FWCD Fifty Years of Art

Fifty Years of Art

The 50th Anniversary Committee and the Visual Arts Department present the

Alumni Art Show September 1 - October 31, 2013

Art Show Committee Curator:

Registrar: Committee:

Rebecca Bell Callie Vincent Dorrine DeChant Caroline Harper ’01 Frasher Hudson Pergande ’81 Cynthia Rimmer Prince ’87

Art Photographer: Kendall Davis

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Catalog Designer:

Kennedy Stovall, Eleventh Grade Design Assistants: Sydney Phillips, Eleventh Grade Jack Sankary, Tenth Grade Katelyn Tierney, Eleventh Grade

Introduction

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or 50 years, the arts have been an integral part of life at Fort Worth Country Day. The arts program has grown richer over the years, providing students with a foundation for the concepts and methods connected to their craft, as well as providing an outlet to express themselves. While the arts have evolved over time, the department remains committed to the development of skills, imagination and the creativity of every student.

When planning for FWCD’s 50th anniversary, we wanted to celebrate every aspect of the campus. With the School’s focus on the “3 A’s,”-academics, arts and athletics, we felt it was important to showcase the visual arts. We invited Alumni artists to send their artwork to the School that represents their artistic process. The Alumni Art Show includes a wide variety of mediums, including framed photographs, drawings, prints, collages, painted canvases, ceramics, sculpture and fine art jewelry. Most of the artists created their pieces within the last decade; however, some made their entries while they were FWCD students.

We have displayed the artwork in four buildings across campus. The flow of the artwork in the catalog mimics the visitor’s path through the exhibition. Visitors begin in the Lou and Nick Martin Campus Center, proceed to the Amon G. Carter Foundation Commons within the Paul W. Mason Middle School, venture through the Peter A. Schwartz Administration Building, and complete the tour through the Sid W. Richardson Visual Arts Center.

This catalog also features two articles written by alumnae: Evelyn Siegel H’99, retired and beloved art teacher, wrote about the founding of the art program in “From My Point fo View”; and Joanne Leonhardt Cassulo ’73, trustee for the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York, wrote about what the FWCD art program meant to her in “The Legacy of Creativity.”

Within the catalog you will find several essays and poems written by current FWCD students. These students won a contest on September 9, 2013, “Looking Back” Day. The daylong event included activities and educational sessions that gave students a sense of what life was like when the School opened its doors 50 years ago. Students in grades 3-12 read “Sit In: How Four Friends Stood Up By Sitting Down” by Andrea Davis Pinkney. Our teachers then asked the students to write an essay or poem “about a time when you or someone you have observed has stood up for what is right.” The teachers from each grade level chose the best entry. Congratulations to our winners!

We hope you enjoy your Alumni Art Show experience and this catalog.

Frasher Hudson Pergande ’81 Cynthia Rimmer Prince ’87 50th Anniversary Co-Chairs

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From My Point of View Evelyn Siegel H’99

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eter Schwartz [Fort Worth Country Day’s founding headmaster] degree in painting, she was willing and excited about the program, and she hired me to help him “build an art department.” It was the summer had the wonderful patience that is required to teach young children. of 1966 when I applied for the position of art teacher for the 1966-67 academic year. The School had been providing Lower School art classes in Soon we outgrew that pre-fab building and moved to the Sid W. Richa pre-fab building since its opening in September 1963, but there had been ardson Gymnasium, inhabiting many different rooms within that gym over no formal curriculum, no Middle School art and a period of time. When the headmaster called no movement toward Upper School art. Students me into his office to tell me that the School was going to build an art building, it was one of the in grades 1-6 simply came to the art room to make art: they drew, they painted, they worked with clay. most exciting days ever. Jack Schutts was the desThere was nothing seriously planned for expandignated architect. Mr. Schutts, Mrs. Koeppe, Mr. ing the visual creativity of FWCD students until my Schwartz and I put our heads together and demeeting with the headmaster, who was ready to get cided that the building would be one large space, divided by tall walls. These walls would serve as serious about a Visual Arts Department. classroom dividers and would have shelves to While it seemed like an overwhelming job, I achouse the supplies, as well as student work. It cepted the challenge. My four children were at the was to be an open classroom. The sinks on the School, and I wanted them to have art as a part of outside walls were spaced so that each bay area their education. I began the school year with a leswhere a teacher worked would give ample counson plan for each grade, first through sixth. Since I ter space for wet supplies, such as paints. Boro was the only teacher, several mothers signed on as Wood Products supplied all of the wall cabinets. aids: Laura McGown, Nancy Schenecker and othThe windows would be large and factory-style, ers worked with me over the next four years. Sylvia giving complete light from the outside, while Weiner, an art major and teacher, also came to work with me. Sylvia and also having openings to allow chemical odors to easily escape. Because of I put on the very first Fine Arts Festival for the consortium of schools to the layout, three classes could be in the area at a time. This building would which Country Day belonged. It was a huge success, and, with about four adjoin the theater, which was on the other side of an open walkway. The other schools participating, it poised CDS for success. When Sylvia left the completed product was a very exciting place to be. We were in business— next year, we hired Lelia Koeppe. While Lelia had never taught, she had a real, serious art business. We could now bring in classes from the Middle School on a regular basis. Upper School was to follow.

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Because of the way it was situated on the land, the south end of the building was left as an open area where students could sit outside and draw.

The vista was great. However, Mr. Schutts surrounded the space with 18foot walls! Our two kilns were going to be left out. In his wisdom, Mr. Schutts had a plan and divided off the large space so that a portion would be for the electrical—of course for the kilns! When a roof was put on the building, we had an amazing clay department!

By this time, I had spoken to Mr. Schwartz about purchasing some clay equipment to get the Upper School art curriculum going. He agreed, so the School purchased four kick wheels, and I added my own electric wheel as a “teaser” to the older kids. Mrs. Koeppe wanted to do the painting, and I kept the printmaking and the clay. We divided up the Middle School students with Sue Smith, who joined us when we developed the Middle School curriculum. The Upper School students flocked to the building to make art. We now had Upper School painting, drawing, printmaking and clay. What we needed was art history to round out the curriculum, so I asked for that to be added. We started the curriculum with students having to take a class for graduation. It was called The Visual Experience, a course designed to make students more aware of what goes into looking at and seeing a work of art. Later, we added art history from the earliest recorded art until the present day. For several years, I taught all of the art history.

Over time, different art history teachers were hired, including Blaine Smith ’80, who was a former student and a working artist.

Along the way, the Visual Arts Department was called upon to fabricate props for the theater, including Bob Balch’s performances in the early days, and more. Our students were thriving, and recognition was given for exemplary work at graduation. Some of those students went on to make their life’s work in the art world—theater, painting, sculpture and graphics, all part of the inspiration that they received at Fort Worth Country Day as students.

It took many years to create the Visual Arts Department. From my point of view, Peter Schwartz got his art department, and I know for a fact he was proud of it.

Working in clay requires, for Katy Bahan, a little moral as well as physical support from Mrs. Siegel.

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The Legacy of Creativity Joanne Leonhardt Cassullo ’73

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espite my adolescent protests, my family moved from New York to Fort Worth in 1970, just in time for me to enter the 10th grade at Fort Worth Country Day School. Coming from an established Quaker school on the North Shore of Long Island (one that my mother herself had attended), I was not quite sure at first what to make of the new campus of my Texas school, which was only seven years old when I arrived. It seemed to have been plopped down in the middle of a prairie, the architecture of its three permanent buildings both contemporary and stark under the unrelenting and blazing sun. Yet what lay inside these structures took me by complete surprise.

First, my classmates, 37 in total, were incredibly warm and embracing.

They welcomed me into their extended FWCDS family and eased my adjustment into my new surroundings and school. I had not expected such a wonderful introduction to my new high school, and I was deeply moved by the experience. I remain close to many of my classmates even after our graduation, which was 40 years ago. I will always be grateful for this blessing of friendship and for the joyous memories I continue to hold in my heart.

Next, my FWCDS teachers were also supportive and encouraging back then, helping to steer me through the occasionally rough waters of adolescence into young adulthood and college. In particular, I fondly remember Mrs. Evelyn Siegel H’99, who was my art teacher. I was very enthusiastic about art, but was not myself an artist. My complete lack of artistic ability (which I shared with a few other students in class) was of no concern to Mrs. Siegel. Her assignments focused more on creativity than on skill— thankfully! In fact, just a few months ago as I was unpacking boxes from a

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recent move, I came across a scrapbook from that class created sometime between 1972-73, one made in response to an assignment dealing with the Art Deco era of the 1930s, and one that illustrates the lasting impact her art class had on me.

For that assignment, Mrs. Siegel divided our class into groups. My group consisted of Lydia Cutter ’74; Cheslea Kemble Taylor ’75; Chuck Fugitt ’75; Quentin McGown ’74, and Rodney Freeman ’75, who acted as our official photographer. While I cannot recall the specific details of the assignment, with the help of the photographs and notations in the scrapbook I recall that we went as a group to the Texas State Fair to “observe” the Art Deco architecture of Fair Park between amusement rides and too much fried food.

We considered this field trip our ”visual research” for the assignment on the 1930s and, with all seriousness, made note of this for Mrs. Siegel in the scrapbook. Once we were home, we decided to document a performance in black-and-white photographs inspired by our visit. We scoured local thrift shops for costumes and props finding hats, gloves, ill-fitting vintage suits, shoes and so on. Quentin found a facsimile of a 1930s newspaper—one complete with headlines about Al Capone—that he brought along to use as a prop. Adding a dramatic element to our staged performance, someone brought a machine gun with which to pose (hopefully it was a prop, I can no longer remember), and we enthusiastically included it. We chose an antique car museum located near Fort Worth as the setting for our staged performance and posed for vignettes taken in the antique cars and by the historic advertising signs adjacent to the buildings. After the photos were developed and pasted down into a vintage black scrapbook (another thrift store find), our group embellished them with quotations hinting at current events from the 1930s, and we proudly turned it in.

the freedom to think creatively. At Fort Worth Country Day, our teachers helped to nurture our creativity, and they absolutely encouraged our self-expression. As my own experience taught me, those art classes also helped develop creative problem-solving skills. In later years, perhaps inspired by Mrs. Siegel’s assignment and others, I learned to connect to contemporary art through the written word. I was awarded a fellowship in curatorial studies at the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York City after graduate school. Today, I am an advocate for contemporary art and artists, and I proudly serve as the trustee chair of the Education Committee at the Whitney Museum, which among other worthy programs sponsors insightful programs with established artists for students in grades K-12.

Ask the artists whose work appears in this alumni show if they experienced a similar freedom of self-expression while at Fort Worth Country Day, and I am certain they will agree. The seeds of creativity need to be planted early—and often. The ability to express one’s point of view through art is a powerful gift that our teachers gave to us at an early age, and the affirmation of one’s artistic efforts encouraged some of us to pursue art as a worthy career.

And the world needs great artists—they are the visual historians of our lives and of our culture. They can also help us to see things in Mrs. Siegel loved our scrapbook, writing: “This is a nicely created book– The writing is whimsy & fun. So “art” the pictures–Mrs. Siegel.” Looking a new way and in a new light. back, I now see the value of that particular assignment. It illustrated how I believe that great art can be two things. It can be the type of object that we could think creatively while working together as a group to fulfill an assignment. Instead of turning in a series of drawings or sculptures inspired captures one’s imagination because of its beauty or its content, and/or it can by the 1930s, we approached the assignment from another angle, one that be the type of art that creates an experience that can change how one views in today’s art world might be considered performance art. And most im- the world. At Fort Worth Country Day, my classroom experience helped to portantly, we had a terrific time completing it. At least I did … since I man- awaken my curiosity in the arts, which eventually changed the direction of my life. It helped to ignite in me a lifelong passion that became my career. aged to hold onto the scrapbook all these years.

And judging from the quality of works contained in this alumni exhibition, One of the most valuable things exposure to art can give a student is I was certainly not alone.

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John Holt Smith ’87 Sun Sequence #2

Acrylic enamel on aluminum

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Lou and Nick Martin Campus Center

Avery Kelly ’05

Winnie and Bud Oil on canvas

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James Arno ’00

Stand Up Stand up for a child that is hurt.

Stand up for a child that is alone.

Stand up for a child without freedom.

Stand up for a child with no home.

Fairness is not to judge by someone’s appearance.

Fairness is to stand up for what is right.

Fairness is standing up for everyone friend or not.

Fairness is to rid the world of cruelty.

“Unless someone like you cares a whole lot, nothing is going to get better it’s not.”

-Dr. Seuss

Katherine Martin

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Untitled

Ceramic

Lou and Nick Martin Campus Center

Fourth Grade

Caroline Corpening Lamsens ’99

Birdhouse

Glazed pottery with wire

Teapot

Glazed pottery with bamboo handle

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Leslie Rosen Walstrom ’81

Katie Johnson ’11

Organic Dance 4

Cast glass sculpture on acrylic stand

Bowl of Seasons

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Ceramic

Lou and Nick Martin Campus Center

When A Doll Stops Playing Pretend

Keller Reese ’10

Catherine Cravens Eighth Grade

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doll sat in limbo on a shelf; her thoughts unread and only smiling underneath her skin, She, a marionette, a doll with strings of rubies connecting to her joints and curling around her neck holding her limply, But in the limbo of which she sat, the doll was herself and her thoughts hers without the porcelain mask, Then with pounding above the stage, her master pulled on the threads, her limbs growing taut, Thus the show began with no audience in the seats and other cast behind the curtain; the two person play started in a battle, The crimson threads, strong and powerful, bled into her veins thick and vicious as it climbed down manipulated from above, Her master cooed white words down from above, forgetting things darken and obfuscate overtime, Twisted tales with the key points trite were told, the marionette’s skin breaking as every consonant her master’s tongue enunciated was heard, It terrified her, infuriated her, knees trembling, and voice cracking hysterically, how was she to face her master, someone she was made to love, But the brightest light on the stage showed her a path, but in her haste she didn’t see the burning coals lining the way, The stage became thick and teeming with mendacity forcing her to swim through the murk with only the burning embers of hatred to light her way, Her master screamed and pleaded for her precious doll to succumb and obey, but a fire of resistance bubbled stubbornly, holding tight its

Untitled

Ceramic

fading hue which was then inflamed by the master’s lips lying wine, The doll’s words turned to knives, venomous with the thirst of vengeance, cutting the threads one by one till only the noose remained, Blood ties twisted into a noose clung around her throat tempting her to jump off the stage but forgot that they can be washed away with the tears birthed of betrayal, She broke from her master, her body hitting the stage, and it left spitting words that should mean love but meant nothing, Her eyes formed sapphires which she horded only to wish they were diamonds instead, The doll knew she had stood up and went the right direction but got lost on the way in the labyrinth of her own heart, So she stood there, no strings attached, slowly starting to pick up her broken pieces, putting them back in place without a mirror to see if they were crooked.

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Lisanne Purvis Davidson ’74 Clayton Harlin ’06

Prayer Interrupted Ceramic

Untitled

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High fire clay Lou and Nick Martin Campus Center

Marissa Berenson ’08

Untitled

Semi-precious stones

Merrick Rutledge Bean ’02

Untitled

Gemstones, metals

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Heather Hillard ’05

Untitled

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Ceramic

Lou and Nick Martin Campus Center

Jillian Blackwell ’08

Interiors Amalgamation Vase

Reduction fired porcelain

Kelly Hall

Twelfth Grade

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y grandfather, Harold D. Hargan, was born August 19, 1931, in the rural town of Mounds, Illinois. He served as a United States Air Force pilot in the Korean War, returning home to marry Doris Hargan and have three daughters and a son. Harold Hargan was an eyewitness to severe transgression at the Paducah uranium enrichment plant where he worked for forty years. He became a whistleblower against the misconduct of the plant operators, facing the loss of his job and even threats on his life and the lives of his family in order to bring justice to perpetrators.

At the Paducah plant, Harold Hargan witnessed criminal behavior such as the dumping of toxic waste into the environment. In the 1980s, my grandfather battled with the supervisors of the plant over negligent dumping of deadly trichlor into the ground. Plumes of trichlor spread three miles from the plant into the aquifer, contaminating the groundwater. In addition to the contamination of the water supply, the plant operators were also ordered to dump toxic uranium sludge into the nearby Ohio River. Under the cover of night, plant managers opened the giant hood vents and released tons of lethal gases into the air. My mother recalls that at sunrise, the sky would be painted a dark, unnatural red from the sunlight reflecting off the chemical gasses. The effects on the environment from the toxic dumping were unspeakable, and because of the longevity of radioactive waste, some of the deadly consequences continue to this day in the Paducah area.

Harold Hargan witnessed the crimes committed and the harmful effects on the environment, but perhaps even more shocking were the crimes perpetrated by the plant officers against their own workers. Most of the workers in the plant, including my grandfather, developed cancer from the constant and unprotected radiation exposure. The operators of the plant deliberately hid the deadly effects of the uranium from the workers, telling them that they were perfectly safe and providing them with no protection from the poisonous chemicals. My grandfather recalls cleaning uranium sludge from giant vats wearing only street clothes. Even in 1953, when he began work at the plant, scientists knew about the harmful effects of radiation poisoning. The plant operators intentionally ignored the health codes and refused to provide workers with the masks, gloves, boots, and hazardous material suits necessary to safely handle the radioactive waste. By the time that my grandfather had gathered enough evidence of wrongdoing to approach the FBI, many of the workers had already developed cancer. Eventually, due to the efforts of my grandfather, the FBI did investigate and the plant was shut down. The workers re-

ceived compensation from the government, but nothing could fix the irreparable damage the plant operators had caused. To this day, the Paducah area has one of the highest rates of cancer in the country, and there is no way of measuring the devastation done to the environment. It took extreme courage for Hargan to stand up to plant managers when he knew the consequences. Throughout the time period of the FBI investigation of the plant, my grandfather developed cancer and even received death threats for blowing the whistle on the wrongdoings. My mother recalls that my grandfather would check for bombs beneath the car every day before leaving for work. Men with the moral character like my grandfather are very rare in this world. He is an inspiration to me because of his courage and persistence in the face of extreme adversity. My grandfather risked his own life in order to do what was right, and ultimately, he succumbed to cancer in 2008. His sacrifice will not be forgotten by me or the people of Paducah.

Emily Samuelson ’10

Untitled

Ceramic

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Alexandra Galloway Seventh Grade

Annie Heinzelmann ’10

Untitled

Ceramic

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Lou and Nick Martin Campus Center

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t was well known around the small town of Texarkana that if one defied the wishes of a particular organization, it never went well for the offender. My great grandfather, Estil Vance, Sr., knew this well, but he paid it no mind because to him right was right and wrong was wrong.

As he sat in his office at the local bank staring out the window looking out onto Main Street with its colorful shops and people, he was startled when he heard the knock on his door. A man entered with his hand extended and a broad grin on his face. Estil reached over the glossy wood desk and shook the man’s hand as the man sat down across from his desk. With a friendly voice, the man chattered, “Estil, I think it is your lucky day. You have come to the attention of our prestigious organization, and we would appreciate it if you joined us.”

Mr. Vance sighed, “Sorry, sir, but I must kindly decline your invitation.”

With a frown the man pestered, “Why not sir? No one has ever declined.”

“I don’t associate with cowards who wear sheets over their heads.”

Appalled, the man abruptly stood from his seat and stormed out of the room, slamming the old door on his way out. Sighing, Estil returned his attention to his log book, which seemed much more pressing to him at the time. Slowly dusk settled on the sleepy town, and Mr. Vance started home. He heard an engine and a rush of footsteps. Suddenly something burly and strong slammed into him from behind. Caught off guard, he stumbled onto the limestone paved ground. Steel-covered boots slammed into his ribs. Feet stomped onto his head. Blows rained down upon the man. After a brutal beating, the men receded, and the car zoomed off into the harsh silence of the night. Firmly, Estil got to his feet, brushed off his trousers, picked up his briefcase, and turned and walked in the opposite direction towards home, content with the fact that he stood up for what he thought was right.

Lauren Grubbs ’10

Untitled

Ceramic

Troy Fore ’10

Study in Azul and Verde Ceramic

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John Stanley ’74

P-51D ‘Detroit Miss

Korean War Marine Corps Corsair

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Amon G. Carter Foundation Commons within the Paul W. Mason Middle School

Giclée prints

Grumman F6F Hellcat

Late Model Spitfire

Rightly Disobedient Casey Hammett Eleventh Grade

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ivil disobedience is the act of peacefully refusing to comply with laws or social norms that are thought to be unjust. Civil disobedience is nonviolent, and in the past has proved effective with the Indian Independence movement in India and the Civil Rights movement in the United States. The problem with civil disobedience, though peaceful, is that it is still a defiance of the law. The philosophical and moral dilemma is justifying defiance of the written law, even if the law is unjust. If people ignore every law because they feel it is unreasonable, then there would be no way to enforce the laws that do exist. The law should not be defied lightly, and a law should only be defied if the law denies people their Natural Rights. Natural Rights, a concept credited to John Locke and one of the key philosophies that influence the United States Constitution, say that people have Natural Rights that cannot be taken away. John Locke defined Natural Rights as life, liberty, and the ownership of property, but the United States Constitution took it a step further and stated that all people have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. If a law defies a person’s or a group of people’s natural rights as defined in the United States Constitution, then those people have a right to deny that law and stand up for what is right.

Even though the concept of Natural Rights was introduced over 323 years ago, there are still instances today where humans’ natural rights are defied. In October 2012, Malala Yousafzai was shot in the head and neck because she was exercising her right to the pursuit of happiness; she was going to school. Malala, a fourteen- year-old girl in Taliban-controlled Pakistan, did not sit back and watch others control her life and deny her the basic rights that all humans are born with. Malala fought against the Taliban by going to school, and this simple action almost cost her her life. The Taliban attempted to silence Malala, but in doing so only made her voice stronger. After Malala was shot she was moved to a hospital in England. Here she recovered and became one of the largest spokespeople for Pakistani women and their right to pursue happiness through education. Malala stood up for her natural rights by civilly disobeying the law of those opposing her, and although women in Pakistan may not have their freedom yet, they are one step closer to achieving the rights that they should have.

The film “The Great Debaters” is based on a true story about a debate team at Wiley College, an all-black school, in the Jim Crow South during the 1930s. The debate team must overcome prejudice, racial inequality, and segregation that was a part of the Southern culture in that time period. In the movie, the Wiley College debate team becomes so predominate that they are invited to debate against the all-white Harvard debate team, something that is virtually unheard of. The topic for the debate is the morality and justification of civil disobedience. In the closing argument the character James L. Farmer Jr, the youngest debater on the team, gives an account that not only wins the competition, but defines why and when civil disobedience is appropriate. James Farmer Jr. states: “My opponent says nothing that erodes the rule of law can be moral. But there is no rule of law in the Jim Crow South. Not when Negroes are denied housing.

Turned away from schools, hospitals. And not when we are lynched. St. Augustine said, ‘An unjust law is no law at all.’ Which means I have a right, even a duty to resist. With violence or civil disobedience. You should pray I choose the latter.” (“The Great Debaters”) The students on the Wiley Debate team stood up when their own, and their peoples’, Natural Rights were defied, and they were able to go farther than anyone thought they would ever go.

Even when it is for a good cause, defiance of the law should not be taken lightly.

Without laws most of society would be thrown into chaos and anarchy. Though obeying laws is important, not every law should be followed blindly. Just because a law is passed does not mean that it is just or that it does not infringe on the Natural Rights of the human race. There have been cases where laws passed were infringing upon the Natural Rights of the people, and there are sure to be cases in the future where the Natural Rights of a human are denied. It is up to the people to stand up and fix the problem. Just as Malala did when the Taliban took away her right to pursue happiness, and just as the Wiley Debate Team did when they saw the denial of Natural Rights to African Americans in the 1930s, people must stand up for what is naturally theirs when their rights are denied.

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James Acuna ’99 Untitled [cars]

Acrylic on canvas

Edgar “Ted” Sanford H’98 Locomotive #416

Acrylic on canvas

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Peter A. Schwartz Administration Building

Elise Chernosky ’12

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was out at recess. It was kindergarten. I was playing with the other girls when the boys walked up. They called me names and teased me. I didn’t want to fight, but my anger got the best of me. When they teased me, I yelled back.

I asked my mom to help me, and she told me to tell them to stop. She reminded me about what happened in preschool, and when she tried to stop someone from punching me in the stomach. As a result, we got kicked out.

I tried to deal with it, but it happened every day. It went on until one day, in fourth grade, I decided not to yell back. I didn’t lip-talk. I didn’t even groan. I just sat there, peacefully doing my work. I had to do this for weeks, but it was worth it. They eventually got tired and left my worries, looking for other kids to pick on. I was finally rid of them, and I didn’t respond to any of their words.

Kaylie Graves Fifth Grade

Untitled [flag]

Acrylic on canvas

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Annie Samuelson Schorfheide ’07

Lisa Carrington Voight ’92

McNay Art Museum Acrylic on canvas

Untitled

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Acrylic on canvas Peter A. Schwartz Administration Building

John Jiongo ’12

Nancy Bonds ’11

Untitled

Block print

Untitled [skyline]

Photograph

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Rex Holsapple ’70

Moth Orchid

Gelatin silver print

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Melissa Thompson Deufel ’82

Amaryllis

Digitally enhanced photograph Sid W. Richardson Visual Arts Center

Lydia Cutter ’74 June Van Buskirk H’09

Bound by the Beauty I

Archival Ink Jet photo paper

Orchid Trio

Oil on canvas

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Stephen Eisner ’76

The Kimbell Museum Photograph

Sherman TX Firefighter Photograph

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Sid W. Richardson Visual Arts Center

Movement at Rest Photograph

Misty 5th Ave, NY Photograph

Rex Holsapple ’70 Lesley Schutts Moeller ’02

[Cowboy]

Gelatin silver print

Anvil-Bent’s Fort, Colorado

Gelatin silver print

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Matt Kleberg ’04

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Bolt Action 1979 Sid W. Richardson Visual Arts Center

Oil on canvas

Sarah Jane McDonald Ninth Grade

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ometimes we experience events that change our views of controversial topics. Illegal immigration is a topic that many are quick to shy away from, but for me, it is not a problem. Recently, I took a mission pilgrimage to El Paso to help persons in poverty close to the border. One day, we shared a meal with some people who wanted to tell us their stories. They had a lot of trouble sharing because it was such a risk to tell about their illegal status, but they wanted us to be informed. One of the speakers, Carmen, stood up to tell us her story. She did not speak English, but we could see the pain and perseverance displayed in her eyes. A translator next to us replayed her every word as we journeyed through her battle with her. She told us that she was, in fact, an illegal immigrant. She told of how she came to the United States to save a child. She learned from her church in Mexico that there was a baby who was going to be tossed out on the streets to die because of her debilitating medical condition. Carmen said that even though

she barely had enough for herself and her children, she could not stand by and let this child, a beautiful six-yearold girl named Marisol, die. So she took Marisol in and raised her as one of her own. Carmen quickly realized that the resources needed to help Marisol were not available in Mexico, and she needed a solution fast.

Carmen, a woman who had strong morals, did not lightly come to the decision to enter the United States illegally. She agonized over it for days. She applied for rushed temporary visas. But as Marisol’s condition worsened, she finally decided illegally coming over was worth the risk.

She did not tell us how she made it across, but she said that her trip to the United States saved Marisol’s life. Carmen stood up for a child that no one else wanted to take care of. This was a child who needed someone to protect her, so Carmen stepped in, even though she already had three other children to feed. As a result of Carmen’s standing up, Marisol was granted ten more lovely years of life. Marisol

inspired so many people with her happy personality, and she will always remain one of my lifetime heroes. When I first met her, the only telltale sign that she was fighting for her life was her wheelchair. Other than that, she looked like a normal fourteen-year-old. I came to realize that this young child had the wisdom of an adult, and in our short time together, she taught me many life lessons. She taught that even though life may be short, the best option was to live it to the fullest. She taught that no matter how bad your financial situation might be, you can still give to others in different ways. And finally, she taught that if you judge someone before you know them, you might miss out on some amazing things. I want everyone to experience the love and wisdom I experienced because of Carmen’s strength and daring, and that is why I am standing up for her story.

Lisa Miller Mills ’84

Reflections on Heavy Metal

Colored pencil on art spectrum suede paper

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Mary Rabalais Collins ’83

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No Place to Rest Your Hat Digital photograph on metallic paper Sid W. Richardson Visual Arts Center

Melissa Thompson Deufel ’82

Tree

Digitally enhanced photograph

Horse

Digitally enhanced photograph

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Stephanie Steves Burk ’77

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Untitled (Swimmer) Oil on canvas

Sid W. Richardson Visual Arts Center

Reid Rothenberg ’06

Wimbledon Crowd 1

Oil on canvas

Wimbledon Crowd 2

Oil on canvas

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John Holt Smith ’87

Wildflower Oculus #7

Acrylic enamel on aluminum

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Sid W. Richardson Visual Arts Center

Infinite Bloom #11

Unique print face-mounted to acrylic

What If We Had a Perfect World?

Lauren Pinto ’13

What if peace existed?

We might achieve it if we try.

What if we lived without struggle?

We could build a nation around success.

What if we worked together?

We would live the ultimate dream.

But if we live our lives without integrity, is any of this possible?

Claire Guthrie Sixth Grade

Mariposa

Digital photo collage

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Rex Holsapple ’70 Robin Laughlin ’72

Dyspteris Abortivaria (Moth)

Digital scan of a 35mm slide, giclée print

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Beech Leaf, White Pine Needles, and Snow Sid W. Richardson Visual Arts Center

Gelatin silver print

Sommer Swindle Carlin ’97

Blaine Smith ’80

Artichoke

Giclée on canvas

Pomegranates Oil on canvas

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Erin Parker ’12 Ginger Epstein ’10

Restful Prayer Old Soul

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Graphite on paper Sid W. Richardson Visual Arts Center

Photograph

Gay-Straight Alliance Tekleab Beyene, Tenth Grade

M

iddle school can be an awkward time for many teenagers.

For some it is a time to learn about themselves socially and personally. Some treat middle school as a blow-off period before high school. But for others it can be a period of confusion and curiosity. This became apparent to Katrina Terry in the eighth grade. Loved by all the teachers, star of the soccer team, and involved with countless extracurricular activities, Katrina seemed to have everything figured out. Nothing seemed to bother her, not school, not boys, not even friend drama. To her peers, she seemed happy and confident, but inside she couldn’t have felt more horrible.

The truth is Katrina wasn’t like most of the kids at her school; she was different. In a way that kept her from being comfortable and telling the truth. The thing that made her so different was the fact that she was gay. She wasn’t ashamed of herself. She was just afraid of what people might think of her and, most importantly, that it might change how her parents felt about her. Katrina didn’t know how to tell everybody. Nevertheless, she couldn’t spend another moment in hiding.

So she decided to do something about it. With that choice Katrina decided to come out two years ago in her last year of middle school.

Katrina “came out” to the school bit by bit. First she started with her closest friends, then her soccer team, then her classmates and so on.

It was the specific way she came out that surprised me. Instead of just saying it, she decided to write a paper concerning bullying, because she was frustrated whenever she overheard homophobic remarks like “faggot” and “that’s so gay,” around school. She wrote, that “we don’t judge the straight, or call them stupid or breeders, so why should you mock us.” She decided to focus on the vulnerability of homosexuals to bullying. She didn’t understand why people couldn’t just accept

them and had to treat them like they were contagious or dangerous.

Her paper more deeply explained the stupidity behind bullying.

Even though I didn’t completely agree with her views, I understood where she was coming from, and the more I read, the further I got hooked, so hooked that I almost didn’t notice where she mentioned she was a lesbian.

As I started to comprehend what I just read I couldn’t help but stop and think for a moment and ask myself how I could have not known. As I continued to read she began to explain how she had been this way all her life but couldn’t tell anyone because she thought it would change how she would be perceived by her peers and loved ones. However, she wasn’t going to let that keep her from living the rest of her life freely. She ended her paper by asking everyone to put an effort into restraining themselves from bullying and to try to embrace their peers instead of bringing them down.

As days, weeks, and even months went by, the things Katrina was most afraid of didn’t seem apparent. No one talked about her or called her names behind her back. Sure people talked about the shock of the situation. But no one’s perception of her really changed that much. It might even be safe to say that people thought even more highly of her because of her courage to stand up and out from the norm and face her fears. Just last year Katrina started a campus Gay-Straight Alliance in which students meet weekly to address bullying and to encourage other students not to be afraid of coming out and to live their lives freely. Katrina has made an impact on me because of the risk she took so she and others like her can live in comfort without being judged.

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Mary Caroline Warrick Third Grade

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Contributing Artists James Acuna ’99 James Arno ’00 Merrick Rutledge Bean ’02 Marissa Berenson ’08 Jillian Blackwell ’08 Nancy Bonds ’11 Stephanie Steves Burk ’77 Sommer Swindle Carlin ’97 Elise Chernosky ’12 Mary Rabalais Collins ’83 Lydia Cutter ’74 Lisanne Purvis Davidson ’74 Melissa Thompson Deufel ’82 Stephen Eisner ’76 Ginger Epstein ’10 Troy Fore ’10 Lauren Grubbs ’10 Clayton Harlin ’06 Annie Heinzelmann ’10 Heather Hillard ’05 Rex Holsapple ’70

John Jiongo ’12 Katie Johnson ’11 Avery Kelly ’05 Matt Kleberg ’04 Caroline Corpening Lamsens ’99 Robin Laughlin ’72 Lisa Miller Mills ’84 Lesley Schutts Moeller ’02 Erin Parker ’12 Lauren Pinto ’13 Keller Reese ’10 Reid Rothenberg ’06 Emily Samuelson ’10 Edgar “Ted” Sanford H’98 Annie Samuelson Schorfheide ’07 Blaine Smith ’80 John Holt Smith ’87 John Stanley ’74 June Van Buskirk H’09 Lisa Carrington Voight ’92 Leslie Rosen Walstrom ’81

The “H” prior to a class year indicates that a person is an honorary alumnus/a of Fort Worth Country Day. As a result of the person’s outstanding commitments to the School, he/she was given this highest of honors by the Alumni Association.

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COLOPHON

All artwork was submitted by FWCD alumni. The catalog was printed by Foxy Propaganda in Kennedale, Texas. Cover is 80# Sterling Premium Gloss Cover and interior pages are 80# Sterling Premium Gloss Text. The font is Minion Pro.

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Fort Worth Country Day • 4200 Country Day Lane • Fort Worth, TX 76109 • 817.732.7718 • fwcd.org