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Paul Duning


MAGAZINE C Fall 1978

Features "The M agic M om ents of the A ndy Griffith S h o w " ............................................... 2 Paul D u n in g .......................................................................................................................................................... 9 Robert R e id ........................................................................................................................................................ 13 Brian W e lls ...........................................................................................................................................................16

Fiction Lionel's Dream by Jim Manscill

............................................................................................................. 18

Photography.................................................................... 19 Poetry............................................................................... 23 Art..................................................................................... 2 7



Cover by Carol Haynes

Staff: E D IT O R Janice S. Hoole

M a n a g in g E d ito r

D e s ig n E d ito r

Patricia Coe

Leigh R. Hendry

P ro s e E d ito r E d ito rial A s s is ta n ts

David Duncan

Nancy Head

A s s is ta n t M a n a g in g E d ito r John Rush


A r t E d ito r

Betty Alien Lynne Nennstlel

Carol Haynes

Tom Burke T. Hill Mardi Street Dane Swindell

Copyright 1978, by the University of Tennessee. Rights retained by the individual contributors. Send contributions to Phoenix, 5 Communications Bldg. 1340 Circle Park, Knoxville, TN 37916.




OF "The Andy Griffith Show" b y Dr. Richard Kelly " Ih e movie and people magazines have been kidding us. Their covers show a mustachioed, twenty-four year old

superstar named


Howard, whose creative talents have transformed the ugly fifties into a teenage wonderland in American Grafitti, Happy Days, and his forthcoming Cotton Candy. But we older folk (and younger ones, too, thanks to re-runs) know perfectly well that that handsome,



director-producer-writer is really Opie Taylor.


F r o m le f t C o r n e r , A n d y ,A u n t B e e a n d O p ie .

As Alex Haley has reminded us all, our present identity is inseparably bound up in our past, in our roots. In The Andy Griffith Show can be traced the roots of many of today's top stars: Andy Griffith, of course, Don Knotts, Don Rickies, Jim Nabors, George Kennedy, Michael J. Pollard, Ellen Corby, Gavin MacLeod, Barbara Eden, and even Jack Nicholson, who played two small parts in the show before his career took off. This amazingly successful series nurtured some of the best talent in Hollywood, including noted producers and directors, such as Aaron Ruben [Sanford and Son and CPO Sharkey) and Gene Reynolds (M*A*S*H). Not only do the careers of these notable people have their roots in this series, but we, too, have grown up with them in that show's all-American town called Mayberry. We literally saw Ronnie Howard develop from a cute six-year old kid (his father, Ranee, had to read his lines to him) to a handsome young

teenager by the series' end. We shared the joys and pains of the Taylor family, experienced the warm and goodhumored friendship between Sheriff Andy Taylor (Andy Griffith) and Deputy Barney Fife (Don Knotts), and enjoyed the town characters like Floyd the Barber and Otis the town drunk, not only for their comedy but because they were part of a friendly, comfortable community of caring people that made Mayberry a "real" town, a place we all felt was home, one that did not suffer change. Anyone who has watched the show will remember some of its classic moments: Barney Fife accidentally locking himself in the jail cell; Andy limiting Barney to one bullet that he must carry in his shirt pocket; Aunt Bee churning out pickles for the county fair that taste like kerosene; Floyd dreaming about expanding to a two-chair barbershop; Gomer wondering if his suit is plain enough during one of Barney's "plain-clothes" operations; Otis trying to

jump into the jailhouse bed that has been laid on its side against the wall ("Now I know I must be drunk. I never fell onto the wall before!"); Ernest T. Bass' hurling rocks through the courthouse windows; and Howard Sprague's first-time luck in hooking the legendary bass. Old Sam, from Myers Lake. W h a t made this show a classic was Andy Griffith's keen sense of the past, of a simpler America we all like to think is a part of our lives, even if in reality we cannot, as Thomas Wolfe noted, go home again. In the hands of an artist like Andy Griffith (and now Ron Howard) the nostalgic recreation of first dates, proms, and country picnics can be a good thing. Underpinning their work is a strong moral sense that clearly separates right from wrong. Old fashioned? Perhaps, but in the light of the recent case of Ronnie Zamora, in which it was argued that he murdered his elderly neighbor because his mind was shaped by watching endless hours of violent television

programs—in that light, let's have more of those good old days in Mayberry, where a broken window or an angry frown are the limits of violence. The story behind the Andy Griffith Show offers a needed parable for our times, for here was a series that ranked among the top ten shows in the nation during its entire eight prime-time seasons, from 1960-68, and never once pandered to the murky minority that wanted sex and violence. When Andy left the show in 1968 it was the number one program in the country, and it continued for three more years as Mayberry RFD with Ken Berry. The secret to the sucess of the Andy Griffith Show did not come easily, and it came from Andy Griffith. Before coming to television Andy Griffith had made a name for himself as a stand-up comedian with his down-home (North Carolina) routine of "W hat It Was Was Football." A short time later he was cast in the leading role of Will Stockdale in the Broadway hit No Time For Sergeants. He also appeared in the motion picture and television versions of the play. From there he went on to star in two excellent motion pictures, A Face in The Crowd and Onionhead. His last leading role before venturing into television was in the Broadway musical Destry Rides Again. The move to television was traumatic to Griffith. His producer, Sheldon Leonard, notes that Andy did not easily adapt to "the frantic atmosphere in which television comedy was created in those days. The need for constant readjustment, change, and revision was foreign to Andy's theatrical experience." B u t there was an even more important adjustment that Andy had to make, one that changed his whole career and helped make the series a lasting success. During the early years of the show Andy was still acting in the style of his recorded monologs. He spoke in a frantic, halting manner, with a heavy puton Southern drawl. He was playing the farcical character of Will Stockdale but he was now in a sheriff's uniform. But as the character of Barney Fife developed Andy discovered something surprising. He was playing the straightman to Don Knotts. Although Andy realized this, it took him three years to perfect the relationship, to exorcise Will Stockdale and to become the warm, wise.

Lincolnesque Sheriff Andy Taylor. Andy was a perfectionist. He wanted every script to ring true for the characters. The emphasis was always upon character rather than upon situations and jokes. Andy would say "If it sounds like a joke, throw it out," and that's what they did. When the dialogue in a script sounded false to him he would call in the writer and say, "I have an uncle in North Carolina who's just like this guy and he wouldn't say that," and then he would provide the right phrase for the character. All of the characters in the series were built around Griffith and as more were added his own character changed and developed to accomodate them. Unlike a comedian like Lucille Ball or Carroll O'Connor, who created their own complications, Andy needed other characters to create problems for him because he was established as a man with rock-like common sense. The character of Barney Fife was obviously the one who caused Andy the most problems. Don Knotts explains the key to the character of Deputy Fife; "I thought of Barney as a child-like man who was funny mainly because he was never able to hide anything in his face. If he was sad, he really looked sad. If he was angry, he acted angry. Children do that—pout, get overjoyed." Behind and supporting the comic relationship between Andy and Barney were genuine affection and mutuai respect. As Andy explains it, "Whenever _ there was any kidding between them it was based on fondness-that was always in the background. Andy was always protective of Barney. He was often hit with things—he had to be for the comedy—but Andy Taylor was always in the wings." The subtle affection between the two characters is well illustrated in one episode where a spot of nostalgia is skillfully underplayed. Andy and Barney are looking for their old high-school annuals at Barney's house and Barney comes up with a rock. He looks at it for a long time in silence and says, "You know what this is?" Andy asks, "What?" "M y Dad's rock." They both look at this ridiculous rock as Barney explains that his Dad used to strike matches on it when he was a little boy and he would watch him.

These two characters were experts at capturing their own rural pasts with a quiet sensitivity. Andy is from Mt. Airy, North Carolina (the prototype for Mayberry) and Don from Morgantown, West Virginia. One of their finest nostalgic moments is when Andy and Barney are sitting on the front porch on a drowsy afternoon. Barney stretches and says, "Know what I'm gonna do?" Andy half acknowledges the question with a grunt. Barney continues: "I'm gonna go home, take a shower, go over to Thelma Lou's, and watch a little t.v." Several seconds of silence and then Barney slaps his stomach with self-satisfaction: "Yep, that s what I'm gonna do. Go home, take a shower, go over to Thelma Lou's, and watch a little t.v." Several seconds of silence and then Barney continues; "That's it —home, shower, over to Thelma Lou's..." and Andy comes in with 'watch a little t.v.?" The nostalgic front porch, the leisure and carefreeness of a simpler world make this scene a hallmark of the show. It was also a daring and innovative use of expensive television time. The story editor, Aaron Ruben, worked closely with Andy to maintain this warm affectionate relationship between the characters. Ruben notes the central issue: "Here was Andy with his wonderful wisdom, a man who could deal with an old-maid aunt and a motherless child. How would he tolerate a guy like Barney Fife? We always had to make sure that Barney presented enough humaneness to make him acceptable to Andy." The fact that Barney was a lawman and carried a gun made him the only comic character in a responsible position. It would have been easy to exploit the nervous character


G om er Pyle

that Don created on the Steve Alien Show but neither Andy, Aaron, nor Don would consent to it, for it would have destroyed the character for the sake of cheap laughs. He had to be kept human, vulnerable, protected, and very funny. It is a credit to Don that he was able to pull that off. Andy Taylor's family was also built upon affection. The real feelings these actors felt for one another in life simply split over into the fictional world. Aunt Bee was like a mother to Opie and made the best food in Mayberry if Andy's "Mmmmmmmmm, that's good" is any indication. And Opie seemed to enjoy himself both on and off camera. The producers allowed him to bring his skates on the set and kept the refrigerator filled with ice cream and other delights for a young boy. Don Knotts remembers him as a "down-toearth boy, not like most of the movie kids I know." Ronnie's father. Ranee Howard, was always there to keep his perspective where it should be, and he never got a swelled head. Even Ron's younger brother Clint got into a few episodes as the speechless boy who would offer his half-eaten sandwich to Barney, and thus the tag, "No thanks, Leon." The strong father-son relationship depicted in the show is a model of tasteful and unobtrusive moralizing. The moral lessons that Andy imparted to Opie were always based upon substantial actions in the story and were never empty platitudes. Sometimes Andy would even get his britches caught on his pitchfork, as he would say, and learn some home truths from Opie. One of the most movingly dramatic moments


between them came in an episode when Opie, after being warned by his father to be careful how he used his new slingshot, carelessly killed a mother bird, leaving her babies helpless. Andy goes up to Opie's room and outside the window can be heard the cries of the little birds. Andy says, "I'm not going to give you a whipping." He turns and opens the window and says, "Do you hear that? That's them young birds chirping for their mama that's never coming back. And you just listen to that for awhile." The camera then closes up on one of the most pitiful young faces imaginable. O p ie not only learns respect for life but he takes on the responsibility of motherhood in raising the fledglings. This is especially poignant since Opie has no mother himself. Also like a mother, he learns that he cannot possess his charges and must finally let them go free. After weeks of patient care he screws up enough courage to return the birds to the wild and remarks how empty their cage now looks. Andy, looking up, simply remarks, "But don't the trees sound nice and full." Always surrounding Andy, Barney, Opie, and Aunt Bee are the town characters and a sense of the town itself: Mayors Stoner and Pike, Floyd the Barber, Clara Edwards (Aunt Bee's friend), a group of typical small-town church women and gossips, itinerant workers and swindlers, visiting state officials from Raleigh, old men sitting outside the courthouse, Otis the town drunk, Gomer and Goober from Wally's filling station, Helen Crump (Andy's girl), Thelma Lou (Barney's girl), a crude

mountain family named Darlings, the town band, and Earnest T. Bass, the scourge of sanity and reason. Mayberry quickly took on a life of its own because its character was fleshed out with so many specific details. Aunt Bee's favorite section of the newspaper, for example, was a gossip column called "Mayberry After Midnight" (Andy and Barney, incidentally, were always in bed before eleven). The perimeters of the Mayberry mind extend to Siler City and Raleigh and seldom further. The fact that Mayberry is the center of the universe is made wonderfully apparent in the title of a movie that Barney mentions, "The Monster From Out of Town." Small, homely activities abound and set the life styles for all of the inhabitants: the annual fair, the Founders' Day Ceremony (for which Floyd writes the fetching song "Hail to Thee, Lady Mayberry"), the annual band contest, the ladies' garden club meetings, the sleepy Sunday morning church services (during which a visiting preacher from New York City once gave a sermon called "What's Your Hurry?"), the choir practices, the picnics with the girls, fishing at Myers' Lake, and the high-school reunions (where Andy and Barney sing in harmony "Mayberry Union High"). But like any friendship, family, and community, these were changed by time, not Mayberry tim e—that never changes much —but by time of the real world. After five extraordinarily successful years on The Andy Griffith Show Don Knotts left to work for the Disney Studios, a move that Barney prophetically announced in an early episode of the series after he got angry thinking his job of deputy was over: "Into the dustbin of history: exit Barney Fifel" Don's leaving the show was not nearly so dramatic. He simply thought that Andy was going to leave after five years and so, to protect himself, he signed a contract to make The Ghost and Mr. Chicken. D o n has been making Disney films ever since he left the Griffith Show, but he still looks back with a strong nostalgic yearning to be Andy's partner again. He made a few guest appearances on the series after he left it and won several Emmies for his performances. But even on the show times had changed. Barney now worked for the police department in Raleigh.

Don and Andy have remained close friends to this day and occasionally they think they might work together again. As Don says, "I think the reason we both feel that way is that those years were probably the best in our professional lives.� Still, Andy and Don cannot return to Mayberry, no matter how attractive the prospect. They have changed and so has television. When Garry Marshall (the producer of LaVerne and Shirley and Happy Days) last summer offered Andy and Don a chance to team up again, Andy's manager, Dick Linke, had this to say to Andy: "D on't forget, you're over fifty years old and so is Don. You can't recapture the past. You had your eight precious seasons and you did them well. It's like breaking up with a girl or a wife. You can date again but it's never going to be the same, and you better realize it." The show has been off the air now for over ten years and its stars still bear its indelible imprint. Jim Nabors continues to exploit the character of Gomer Pyle in nightclub acts and in his television show. Hal Smith, who played Otis, typecast as the town drunk showed up a couple of times on Adam 12 still inebriated. The wonderfully witty Howard McNear, who played Floyd, unfortunately died of a stroke toward the completion of the series. Frances Bavier, who played Aunt Bee, actually turned fiction into reality by retiring to Siler City, North Carolina. For all practical purposes, she has become Aunt Bee. Even the major stars, Griffith, Knotts, and Howard have not entirely freed themselves from the powerful molding force of those many years in Mayberry. For one thing the show has had an impact on the private lives of both Griffith and Knotts; As Don acknowledges, "M y family has changed around a lot. Like Andy, I'm remarried and my children are older. It's a whole different scene now. The fact that I was always away from home so much when we were doing the show bothered my first wife and certainly hurt the children some." Don's twenty-one year old son, who is studying electrical engineering, loves to watch his father on re-runs. Don, himself, enjoys the old shows but, as he says, he can now watch them as an audience: "I don't feel like it's me at all." But it is him and he is still associated in people's minds with the character of

Barney Fife despite all the Disney films and guest appearances on such shows as Sonny and Cher and The Muppet Show. Last summer he spent in Bucks County starring in a play written for him by Jonathan Daley called A Good Look at Boney Kern. It is a sensitive comedy about a shy high school teacher who falls in love with a young blind girl. One of the reasons Don did the play was, he explains, "Because there was nothing in the character of this man that remotely resembled Barney." "I love Barney," he continued, "but I don't want to keep doing him." Ronnie Howard remains today the same clean-cut, all-American boy he was on the Griffith Show. Andy and Don both attest to the fact that that is the way he is in real life. He got married a few years ago and Andy attended the wedding, an event that brought into sharp focus for him the passage of time. The solid, commonsense education that Ronnie received from his parents, like that he acquired as Opie Taylor, coupled with his professional experience on the Griffith Show, have made him and his work in television and the movies wholesome, nostalgic, and amazingly successful—despite the current emphasis upon violent and lurid melodramas. Like Don, he bears the strong imprint of the character he played on the Griffith Show but because of his

youth he has not had to seek a new identity so much as to mature out of the old one. The character of Richie Cunningham on Happy Days is like an older Opie Taylor with a mother and a more permissive, and somewhat foolish, father. Andy Griffith is clearly the most complex person of the entire group. Having been Sheriff Taylor for eight years, Andy, like the other actors in the group, had to be concerned with his previous identity and the professional liabilities it carried for his future. A few years after the series ended, he attempted two new shows in 1970-71, Headmaster and The New Andy Griffith Show. A combination of ratings wars and CBS executive politics soon led to the cancellation of both programs. Years before he went into television, however, Andy had demonstrated in A Face in the Crowd that he possessed a dynamic acting range. In that movie he played a vicious and egotistical guitar player who clawed his way to stardom only to find his achievement a hollow trophy. The character he created was so unsettling and convincing that Andy hesitated to allow his new wife to see the film. After the bad start in the early 70's, Andy undertook a number of challenging new roles in order to free himself of the Andy Taylor image and to demonstrate

his versatility as an actor. He starred in a made-for-television movie in which he played a savage motor-cycling hunter who for sheer pleasure stalked Timothy Bottoms in the desert. He was so maniacal and cruel in his pursuit of the innocent boy that no one could possibly associate the character with the genial Sheriff of Mayberry. From there he went on to play such roles as an unscrupulous hack writer for westerns in the motion picture Hearts o f the West, the Father in a brilliant television version of Pirandello's Six Characters in Search o f an Author, and the L.B.J. character in the popular television, Washington: Behind Closed Doors. His most recent television appearance was as a lawman in a small California town in The Girt in the Empty Grave. Meant as a pilot for a new series, this episode did not rank very high in the ratings and may not be continued. Right now Andy is considering going on tour with The Music Man. Having made a clean break from the past in the early seventies, Griffith has liberated himself from his roots in Mayberry. He made the transition by the sheer power of his acting ability and his careful selection of scripts. But ironically, Andy's roots are in reality still in Mayberry, or at least in North Carolina. He owns a house in Manteo, where he occasionally goes to fish and relax. To hear him talk about the Griffith Show is to learn where his heart is. "It was the best time I think I will ever have," he says wistfully. It was, after all, Andy's rural past that gave Mayberry its humanity and believability, rendered with a tasteful air of nostalgia. He has since matured under the California sun into a sophisticated and extremely knowledgable actor. He still embodies, however, his down-home virtues of integrity and outspoken honesty that have kept him over the years from selling his soul on the Hollywood stockmarket. The old Andy can be glimpsed now only through the Ritz Cracker commercials where, as "Cousin Andy," he pops a cracker into his mouth and bellows like a bull through his nose that familiar sound heard so often over Aunt Bee's dinners—"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,mmmmmmmmmmm,that's good!"

Deputy Barney Fife b aw ls out Otis th e to w n drunk.

PAUL PUNING by David Mould

Paul Duning spent five quarters in the College of Business Administration before he realized he was in the wrong "business." He first attended Memphis State University where he studied business but left after one year-"lt was like high school all over again," he said. Duning then transferred to UT where he continued to study business. "I took a design course as an elective one quarter and realized that

Duning's work includes sculpture using plastic and light, abstract timeexposure photography, building and designing furniture and mobile and relief-type wood sculpture, and even house design. "When I first started using light for my photography it was by accident. Then I realized it had the potential to be controlled. I began trying different ways to control the light —F/stops, time exposure, different kinds of film, and some images painted directly on the slides I used. "I've scratched the slides, put holes in them, put glue on them, used projections of one image onto another and done re-photographing. "A lot of the ideas just came to m e—looking at what I had done before and thinking of how I could do it cfifferently. Everything is experimental," Duning explained. For those interested in this type of photography, Duning pointed out

Bill Nation

business might be a good thing to know about, but design was really what I should be doing," he said. Duning has been in creative design ever since and will receive a degree from UT in December. He describes his major as an "individualized study program." "It's what you might call 'mixed media'—consisting of wood design, photography, photo silk screening, graphics and plastics. It also takes in architecture," he said.

that all his work has been done on less than $200 worth of equipment. He has one camera, one tripod and one 50 mm lens. He doesn't even own a filter—in fact,he makes his own from theatrical gels. Duning has worked on his independent study at the Knoxville Arts Council, where he taught a workshop, and is presently working at the American Museum of Science and Energy in Oak Ridge. "I'm working on design stuff—a multi-image show, a model design exhibit and video work. I'm able to

use all my design skills on the museum stuff, especially woodworking. Knowing how to work with wood makes it easier to design with wood." "I'm not sure what I want to end up focusing on, but now I'm interested in multi-image audio­ visuals." "Someday I hope to own my own business, but I'll probably leave the business aspect to someone else. Business is a good thing to study, but I didn't enjoy it—it's too objective.







DREAM # 2 5


CCBECT CEIE by David Mould

Robert Reid is another crossover from business to creative arts. "Business was just burning me out—it wasn't what I wanted to do. So I went into the individualized study program," he said. Reid started out doing ceramics and wood sculpture, but decided he wanted to specialize in wood. He entered the study of sculpture, concentrating totally on wood. After completing one degree in 1974, he graduated again in 1976 with a degree in creative arts. "I acquired an old factory in Fort Sanders and set up a studio—Studio 1510. I share the building with other artists—a cooperative arrangement where we share expenses and divide the building into our own areas. It has gallery space in the front and production space in the back," Reid said. Reid's work consists largely of laminating domestic hardwoods indigenous to the East Tennessee area. "The wood's not as important as the form that I'm working with. A lot of the work is inspired by plant-like growth—a lot of images of trees and plants." The 28-year-old Reid says most of his sculpture is done by what he calls "spontaneous visualization." "Basically that means that I just start out without any particular direction or idea in mind. I just trust my intuition and work intuitively. Some pieces take only an hour and some take two to three weeks," he explained.

"I've always had an appreciation for wood in my environment—wooden furniture and being in a wooded area. I like to work with it because it is readily available, has a lot of variety, and with the right material, is easy to manipulate. It's also not overly expensive when compared to other materials."

Reid has had exhibitions in Oak Ridge, Chattanooga, Atlanta and Jacksonville,Fla. He also has some of his work in a traveling exhibit sponsored by the Southeastern Center for Contemporary Art, in WinstonSalem, N.C.



BRIAN WELLS by Carol Haynes

M e e t Orion Wells and you will have the rare privilege of m eeting a true original. He doesn't tune his guitar quite like anyone else. He w ould rather experim ent with the sounds and find something n e w — original— his own. Guitar isn't the only instrument Orion ploys. Although he con't reod music, he ploys virtually any instrument he con g e t his bonds on, ond is no w in the process of moking o harp. If he's not creating with music, he'll b e working w ith o piece of art, either o print or painting. Coming from Memphis Stote with 0 Oochelor of Fine Arts d eg re e and from Indiana University with o Master of Fine Arts deg ree, Orion no w teoches printmoking a t the University of Tennesse in Knoxville. "I m oke pieces for p eo ple to see. 1 like them to go som ew here— be out, not sitting here. Whot's mine comes from o teo m effort, b e it art or music. It's always m e and the m edio, m e and the music, or m e and the w o o d . Everything is o joint effort," Orion exploined. If something unexpected happens during Orion's communion with his m edium , it doesn't m atter to him. He favors— and trusts— improvisation in the creation of o piece of art becouse n e w ond fresh ideas ond techniques ore born through the process. His dreom is to som eday creote o piece of art that combines all of Orion Wells— his music, his ort, his life. "M oybe som eday I'll m oke the 'best' piece and Just stop moking ort, because I w ouldn't w o n t to hove to com pete with it. Everything will hove b ee n said and in that piece. Then I'll just go on to something else. M ike Dubose


Erotic P oem Pull d o w n th e skin. T h e m o o n fits in. B y Brian Wells

D H â‚Ź C N I\!

nCTIOM WADING IN THE FICTION POOL The infinitely thick shadow of unread books collects into o pooi at the center of the brain. A n eed for enlightenm ent dispels oil opprehension. Time for o quick tem peroture check to see if the water's fine. Decision...selection...lMMERSION! The initiol plunge becom es o surreal fantasy. Through the waves, the collected thoughts of previous minds transcribe themselves to print. Disjointed ond unidentifiable words mesh into com plete ideas. Spirol whirlpool path leads forever in the search for the Ultim ate Concept. The nature of fiction dem ands thot certain sacrifices be m ode. All established boundries in reality and illusion must be disregarded. O ne must becom e

Above the opposite bank of the Loudon River, a gray slash has been cut in the green hillside; it's a cliff. From below, the cliff's visual supremacy is challenged by a huge, green and white Howard Johnson sign. To the left of the great sign is a small, blue, shotgun house. The house stands about thirty feet from the base, on rocks and rubble that slid away from the cliff's face in what must have been one hell of a landslide. The house has a fenced in porch. On this porch, in a creaking, old rocking chair, rocks Lionel Newton; a creaking old man.

J ust as Lionel hasn't always been old, the sign hasn't always been beside his house. But to Lionel, both possibilities seem quite likely. Every evening, just as the sun has set, Lionel wakes, rolls from his bed, and walks, to his rocking chair.


entang led in o flowing m ood - on inexact cham eleon that orrests human em otion. The realm of history has m ony olternotives to offer w hen placed in the light of fiction. The distillation of the fact from fiction is on unecessory process. Coution m oy be shattered by opening the mind to vicorious projection ond dimension shifting. W hen deoling with on individual's consciousness, fiction provides on outlet for unleoshing o m ental maelstrom. It contains one of the greatest gifts thot man possess: the obility to visuolize w h o t can't be seen. Once the preliminory dip into the fiction pool hos b ee n m ode, delve into reckless abandon. Take the w a te r wings off.

As Lionel rocks, night begins to fall. Above Lionel's roof, directly over his head, on a steel tower, sits the transformer and power supply for the sign's lighting system. When it becomes dark enough, a photo-electric cell triggers a relay and the power is switched on. The transformer begins to hum with power. It snaps and pops and its metal case heats up. The lights begin to glow, and then suddenly become bright. The light is so bright it fills every nook and cranny in Lionel's house. Lionel doesn't mind, he enjoys the loud humming, it seems to fill him with power, makes his skin tingle. S o o n his mind becomes filled with images, scenes that sometime feature him. Children surround him, laughing, shouting, playing games. A woman's face, tears in her eyes, nose bloody, lip split. A wave of men rises from a trench.

charges forward and is met by a creeping, green fog. Wires run from his temples, a band surrounds his head holding metal discs in place. A doctor shines a light into his eyes. "Mrs. Watson, your father has brain damage and is developing cataracts. These symptoms are indicative of longterm exposure to microwave radiation." "Say Whut?" "I'm sorry, but your father is insane and going blind." The dawn builds slowly. You can almost feel the sun sneaking up, right over the horizon. But before it does, just as the last stars are winking out, the photo-electric cell responds triggering the relay and shutting off the power. The humming slowly fades away and is replaced by clicking and thumping from the red hot transformer. Lionel rises from his rocker and creaks into his house.

PHOTOGRAPHY IN THE EYE OF THE CAMERA... Photography seems to hove e m erg e d os the art form of the tw en tieth century. Both in terms of practicality and creativity, it reigns for abo ve journalism, in the docum entation of events, and other populor ort forms, in the ease of leorning and the availability and price of the moteriols. It is an art form for the masses. But not everyone can tak e a great photograph. Yet just about onyone can buy a cam era, film, and afford the developing a t the corner PhotoMat or ShutterBug.

Becouse it is such a popular hobby and profession, the photographer must strive to m oke his picture porticulorly unique. Photogrophy, as o creotive outlet, certoinly offers a greot deol of personal satisfoction ond challenge. But perhaps more importantly, it offers the world the means by which to record virtuolly every m ajor event ond m any minor ones. It's docum entation and it's ort— rarely have the tw o fused so well.

Kerry Bowden





J e ff Jernigan

a rs



Poetry is the plumb, the plumb good, the carpenter's mork and no mimic mark ollowing the building to sit down on itseif. It is w h a t sits in it. Just os you con watch the w illow flexing in the roin and see the leaves lashing each other of the wind seizing the

m otion of the leaves to m oke m ony trees, you con see the corpenter's mark os o flexible guide for driving the noil to moke the building resist roin although its joists m oy Jostle each other now and then. The id ea is in the buiiding, hits itself in the h ead with o ham m er. E dd H u rt

E ggboy

D arting behind yo u r fa c e s T h e b o y shines like broken glass I w a n t to w in your races For you, astrid e an eggshell m ask

A w o rld , self-su fficien t eating its y e lio w life enclo sed in w h ite m ag ic w h ic h g ro w th th re a te n s to crack.

A w o rld , self-su fficien t but ending th ro u g h life its existence. P ro tec te d fro m birth and death by o n e thin w h ite shell.

Nancy W illiard Carlin

T h e G eneral, D ream in g B efo re A tla n ta

I shall m a k e G eorgia h o w i iike a fien d A n d A tla n ta burn red as anger. T h e pyre o f th e C o n fed eracy. I shall m ake th e city a phoenix T h a t w ill not rise fro m its ashes For a h undred years. Let nothing stand! Let nothing escap e m y fire! A n d every C o n fe d e ra te son shall flee m y flam es. Burning brighter th an th e h o tte s t d e p th s o f hell. M y bonfire in th e southern S e p te m b e r night. T h e black horses scream in th e red darkness S ounding like tru m p ets; T h e ir w h ite eyes roll w id e in fear. I h ear th e m burning in th e ir stalls. In th e h arvest sun, th e c o tto n fields picked clean. In th e sm o ke, in th e sickening sm ell o f th e char. T h e fre e d m e n fall upon m y fe e t Singing, saying, believing, " S w e e t Jesu s!" I am Lucifer w ith m y fiery to rch In m y left hand and m y red hair; I am G o d w ith m y silver sabre In m y right, I am th e Saviour.

D avid Van Ingram

O F T H E T H IR D A S C E N T "B les sed are th e m eek, fo r th e y shall inherit th e earth." T h e m illionth repetition o f o n e autum n M a d d e n e d th e m . So th e y left — a s k y w a rd p eop le P ropelled like shell fire, billions pointing p ro w s O n th e last exo d u s...C ram p ed and sm elling peace, U lysses, his old soul unsatisfied. C h a fe d on a charted, ta m e d , fro n tiersless planet. T h e stars sang, a n s w e rin g his singing spirits. Earth w a s a pull, a source o f sleep, n o t hom e. S leek snake's-tail arm s o u ts tre tc h e d , its eyes reflective S aucers o f crystal, w h e e lin g , c o m p reh en d in g , A ro b o t's silvered stare: e m o tio n less starlight Falling and falling, w h ite stars like...m etaphor S u d d en ly failed; th in g s w e re th em selves , no o th er. In a cold w in d th a t b le w ou t across th e n am es A d a m had given and p u t o u t th e m all. U p higher, s w in g in g in a lazy arc, A b ro w n h a w k d ip p ed am o n g th e to w n 's chalk cliffs Trailing an unim aginable cry, a cry U nlike all h a w k cries heard — less solitary. Less s ad d en ed echo o f a heart's rem o ten ess. M o re th ro a t's e fficien t pitch, m o re h u nter's cry. W h a t th o u g h ts to y e d w ith th e m ean in g lessn ess gone. D o w n to w n , im p ro m p tu citizens' c o m m itte e s B arked ord ers on sid ew alks; bristling alleycats S pit back. M a rq u e e s , bars, disco th eq u es, m o tels D ark, still. C ould light die? Barks and ho w ls. N othing D a y b rea k could clarify. Dism al o ran g e sunset S m e a re d on th e panes. N e x t day, w ith g u m m y clothespins. M in u te -q u ic k spiders hung th eir w a s h to dry. Blind vines exp lo red th e feel o f w a lls fresh rains B le w green and sun burned b ro w n , and ingrained ice P artitio n ed T -s q u a re d m otar; asphalt, to u g h For trib es o f s u m m e re d pines, dug g ru b b y s e e d b o w ls — Its brain lifted out, th e fis te d to w n uncurled Its leaves o f childhood, o p en in g its palm s T o eye s th a t s a w th e dinosaurs drop, eye-pairs N a rro w e d in alley w ay s, s e w e rs , no longer a pet's Fed lo o k -s tr e e t-s m a r t; and p a w s in pairs on floors T h e sapiens strolled. T h e y , and o n e high-skulled fighter, A ch an ce birth, given luck w o u ld reason, build. Pack p layg ro u n d s w ith an altered b reed o f laughter. Plant love th a t m ig h t te n million m o th e rs after. Coiling like yarn a spindling seed o f brain. R efashion a m a n g e r and th e child fro m Eve. Carey Jobe

C om in g H o m e in W in te r

T h e y have m a d e m e bald and x-rayed m e. I am h o llo w T h ey send m e w h e re m y ro o ts Will stick m e to th e soil; Th e sap w ill n o t c o m e again. H o w o d d th e h ig h w a y rolls Like so m e g reat g rey s erp e n t S w im m in g th ro u g h a freakish, fa d e d sea— Th e square y e llo w p a tc h w o rk c ountryside. W h ere th e ridges lie h u m p b a c k e d in th e horizon. Hazy fro m th e ir blue vapors. B lack-an d -w h ite w a te r color ca ttle Graze th e w in te r stubble. Th e barbed w ire s buzz Like icy tele g rap h lines. Their p o sts stiff prisoners. Pregnant barns and proud silos lay w a rm A m o n g th e fa llo w , fro ze n fields. I am stricken By th e tra n s p a re n t brains o f bare trees. David Van Ingram

A B O R T IO N W ith th e first o n e There w a s a co n n ectio n . I talked to you A sked you to un d erstan d . To co m e back w h e n I could a c c e p t you. C om e back d o u b ly strong. A nd I fe lt your a g re e m e n t. T h e seco n d o n e w a s strong. W e w e re t w o girls w h o did n 't u n d erstan d . W h o w a n te d out. Y ou w e r e sen t up to w a it fo r a n o th e r turn, I did th e sending. T h e re w a s no priestly acce p tan c e . Just th e d e c e m b e r facts. I w a s a w a k e fo r yo u r return. I th o u g h t I s a w you fro m th e plane A sp eck in th e clouds M o is tu re joining us. Lynne M eschel

Peter Hutson

A D ay at th e O pera (a M e lo d ra m a ) M o rn in g co m es, and th e earth responds In a d ro w s y overture. T h e a w e s o m e m usic o f th e n e w day Is soon Joined by A n inferior (hum an) libretto. S o m e m e m b e rs o f th e audience, d istracted. Fail to ap p reciate th e situation. A n d leave. T h e c o n d u cto r and th e rem aining p atrons W o n d e r if th e re w ill be return E ngagem ents. D. A lan K irby

D tiC E N IX !


S a m m y th e d og w a s all arm s and legs H a d a n o se fo r th e dregs S p o ts w e re b ro w n , n ever w o re a fro w n W a d e d in th e creek until th e sun w e n t d o w n O n e d ay th e dog w e n t to to w n Found him a p ooch to sm o o ch G av e her a d iam o n d brooch B reach o f co n tract, beach to w e l co n tact P ropeller spin, do it again Bein' a dog is a sin A C D C on m y knee Y o u 're th e s w e e te s t gal ever could be I'll play th e banjo till th e c o w s c o m e h o m e M o o in th e m oo n lig h t till th e po licem en strike Loaf on rriy fo d d e r and w ra s s le m y o tte r T a k e yo u r prints on th e old ink b lo tter I'll ta k e your golden slipper, ship 'er o ff to th e w e s t T w o o f m y m en w e a rin ' b u lletp ro o f vests B aby, yo u 're th e best vest Y o u r carress sto p s th e traffic A n d th e bullets to o T o o bad you're a ratch et fo r th e racket B oo hoo Edd H urt

B IL L B O A R D S G ro u n d e d stars im b u ed w ith a fo g g y night. S u n tan n ed pieces o f w in d tilted tech n o lo g y. Saluting souvenirs o f transcience: Billboards. A to o th p ic k b eard ed hitch-hiker saunters fro m a D etro it styled d ig estive supplier. S trad d le s th e roadside. A n d ejacu lates a p lum p th u m b to th e p o m m elin g traffic. T h e sm o k e curls and co co o n s in th e corners o f his w e ll-tra v e le d eyes. His past: G ro u n d e d stars im b u ed in a fo g g y night. His future: S u n ta n n e d pieces o f w in d tilted tech n o lo g y. Saluting souvenirs o f transcience: Billboards.

D avid Booker


ART ART TECHNIQUES thot the Oftist doesn't w o n t to print, then put in acid. The longer the plate sits in odd, the darker thot oreo will print. The ocid hos octuolly burned o w o y the metol in which the artist will fill w ith ink. Then the p late is run through o press ond printed.

Aft deals with m any facets of life— all interpreted differently in the eyes of every artist. About the only thing thot can be soid for certain obout a piece of ort is that it is ochieved through some m ethod or technique. A fe w of these m ethods include... OIL— Oil is o form of point which has it’s ow n special qualities, it dries very slowly and con be m anipulated many ways. Oil, once dried, con be painted


and is o very perm onent m edium . INTAGLIO-Intoglio is done on o m etal plote over o hot stove top. The im ag e is engraved into the m etol and then etched w ith acid. The p late is gum m ed in ports

LITHOGRAPHY— The idea is grease and w a te r w on't mix— the im ag e is drown on o limestone with grease; the stone is etched w ith ocid, chemicolly em bedding the im a g e into the stone and making non-im age areas w a te r receptive; the stone is rolled up with greosy ink ond w oter; severol prints con now be printed with o printing press.

O r ig in S till U n k n o w n

C a ro l J o h n s to n

Glory to God


Harry Housley

The Skate


Paul Schoonover







Terry Thacker

H a im K a n o


A pplause

The Phoenix takes great delight in presenting to you o listing of oil the mojor culturol activities in, on, and around the university community for the following school year. This year will be on exciting one. The following

presentation by m edieval troubodors os well os


roster lists events os diversified os o song and donee performance by

troupe. Let your spirit travel a century, or ocross o border and informotive ond entertoining.

A N N U A L S P R IN G A R T C O M P E T IT IO N - F ra n k H. McClung Museum/May 1-18.

A M E E T IN G B Y T H E R IV E R — Clarence Brown Company/Clarence Brown Theatre/Feb. 9-17 at 2:00 and 8:15/Admission: $8.00 general, $1.50 for students with activities cards. h o t L B A L T IM O R E — University Company/Carousel Theatre/Feb. 16-March 3 at 2:00 and 8:15.

H A Y F E V E R — Barter Theatre/Feb. 23 at 8:15 Admission; $6.00 and $7.X. A S Y O U L IK E IT — Clarence Brown Company/Clarence Brown Theatre/March 30-April 21 at 2:00 and 8:15. B O R N Y E S T E R D A Y — University Company/Carousel Theatre/May 18 - June 2 at 2:00 and 8:15. A H O R S E O F A D IF F E R E N T C O L O R - Clarence Brown Company/Clarence Brown Theatre/June 29-July 21 at 2:00 and 8:15. Admission for all University Company productions are as follows: General: $3.50 Mon.-Thur./$4.50 weekends/$3.50 matinees. Students with activities cards: $1.50 Mon.Thurs./$2.50 weekends/.50 matinees. All Clarence Brown Company Productions are priced as follows unless other specified: General: $6.00 Mon. - Thurs./$5.00 Matinees and $7.00 weekends. Students with activities cards: $1.50 Mon. - Thurs. $2.50 weekends/$1.00 for matinees.

ROGER W ILLIA M S -P hotographs/G allery Lounge/May 13-June 2.


2nd ANNUAL PHOTOGRAPHY C O M P E T IT IO N — Contact the Central Program Office 1974-54551 Gallery Concourse/May 13-June 2. A R T D E P A R T M E N T G R A D U A T E E X H IB IT S — Frank H. McClung Museum/May 21-June 7. C E R E M O N IA L O B J E C T S -F ra n k Museum Permanent Exhibit.




Mexican ballet

ART W O R K S BY ...-W orks by a qualified student from the U.T. Fine Arts Department/Gallery ll/Music Lounge/Jan. 14-Feb. 3. C A R O L B A K E R — Wax resist and airbrush on cloth/Gallery Concourse/Jan. 14 - Feb. 3. ROGER W IL S O N — Watercolors, oils and acrylics/Gallery ll/Music Lounge/Feb. 4-24. T O M D IM O N D — Acrylics/Gallery Concourse/Feb. 4-25, T O M R IE S IN G — Drawings and paintings/Frank H. McClung Museum/Feb. 11-March 5. C R A F T D E P A R T M E N T G R O U P S H O W -W o rk s by students from UT Craft Department/Gallery ll/Music Lounge/Feb. 25-March 11. SECOND ANNUAL TENNESSEE H IG H S C H O O L T A L E N T S E A R C H - F r a n k H. McClung Museum/March 11-April 3. FROM THESE R O O T S /M E C H A N IC S V IL L E — Forty photographs taken in the 40's by the Mechanicsville neighborhood in Knoxville/Gallery ll/Music Lounge/April 8-28. F IR S T ANNUAL SM ALL P R IN T AND D R A W IN G C O M P E T IT IO N — Call the Central Program Office for information (974-54551/Gallery Concourse/April 828. S C IE N T IF IC P H O T O G R A P H Y -G o e th e Institute/Frank H. McClung Museum/April 9-26. A R T H U R S K IN N E R — Etchings/Gallery ll/M usic Lounge April 29-May12. A R C H IT E C T U R E STUDENT C O N S T R U C T IO N S — Work of an individual student from UT School of Architecture/Gallery Concourse/April 29May 12.

C H A M B E R M U S IC S E R IE S — Music Hall/April 8 at 4:00/Admission. H O NO RS O RCHESTRA Hall/April 17 at 8:15.


• N E W Y O R K W O O D W IN D Hall/April 18 at 8; 15.






— Bijou

S .A .I M U S IC A L E — Music Hall/May 14 at 8:15. C H A M B E R S IN G E R S - Music Hall/May 15 at 8:15. C H A M B E R M U S IC S E R IE S — Music Hall/May 20 at 4:00/Admission.

M U S IC F A C U L T Y R E C I T A L - Keith McClelland/Bassoon/Music Hall /Jan. 5 at 8:15.

P E R C U S S IO N E N S E M B L E - Music Hall/May 21 at 8:15.

F A C U L T Y R E C IT A L — Gary Sped - Clarinet/Peter Horodysky - violin/Jan. 14 at 4:00.

B A N D C O N C E R T — Music Hall/May 22 at 8:15. C H O R A L P R O G R A M — Music Hall/May 27-28 at 3:00 and 8:15.

*Zuckerman/Bonell Classical flutist/Music Hall/Jan. 15at 8:15.



F O D O R — Violinist/Knoxville Symphony/Civic Auditorium/Jan. 18 at 8:15/Call Civic Auditorium box office for admission prices.

• J U L L I A D S T R IN G Q U A R T E T at 8:15. H.

G A IL R O B IN S O N -S oprano/K noxville Symphony Orchestra/Civic Auditorium/April 5 at 8:15/Check Civic Auditorium for admission.

P R E S E R V A T IO N H A L L J A Z Z B A N D Theatre/April 20 at 8:15/$6.00 and $7.00.

-All of the above exhibits are free of charge-

F A C U L T Y C H A M B E R M U S IC S E R IE S Hall/Jan. 21 at 4:00/Admission.



Let go ond extend beyond the confines of a limited perspective.


HARVEY LI I iL E T O N -G la s s McClung Museum Jan. 7 - Feb. 8.


into events ond experiences thot ore both

F A C U L T Y R E C IT A L — Mary Fraley - cello/Jan. 28 at 4 :0 0 » C O N C O R D S Y M P H O N Y C O N C E R T - Music Hall/Feb. 4 at 4:00. Music Hall/Feb.

U N IV E R S IT Y S Y M P H O N Y C O N C E R T Hall/Feb. 4 at 4:00. FACULTY CONCERT percussion/Feb. 5/Time uncertain. •W A V E R L Y C O N S O R T — music/Music Hall/Feb. 10 at 8:15. C O N T E M P O R A R Y M U S IC Hall/Feb. 14-17/time uncertain.

Mike Medieval




drama and

F E S T IV A L -


T H E R O M E R O S — Guitarists/Knoxville Symphony/Civic Auditorium Feb./15at 8:15/Check Civic Auditorium box office for admission. • C O N C O R D S T R IN G Q U A R T E T — Clarence Brown Theatre/Feb. 22-24 at 8:15. S C H O L A R S H IP B E N E F IT Hall/March 3-4 at 4:00 and 8:15.




P E R C U S S IO N E N S E M B L E — Music Hall/March 5 at 8:15. UT S Y M P H O N Y O RCHESTRA 11 at 4:00

•Students: $1.00, Faculty and Staff: $3.00, General: $4.00


Music Hall/Jan. 26

• C O N C O R D S T R IN G Q U A R T E T 2 at 8:15.

All concerts/recitals are free at 4:00 and 8:15 p.m. in the Music Hall unless otherwise noted. Contact UT Music Depaament for information.

Music Hall/March

C H A M B E R S IN G E R S — Music Hall/March 13 at 8:15. ARPAD JO O — Pianist conductor/Knoxville Symphony/Civic Auditorium/March 15at8:15. E M O R Y A N D H E N R Y CO LLEG E C O N C E R T C H O IR — Bijou Theatre/March 23 at 8:15/Admission: $3.00 and $4.00. C O N C E R T C H O IR - Music Hall/March 29 at 8:15. • C O N C O R D S T R IN G Q U A R T E T - Music Hall/April 4at8:15.

DANCE O N M O V IN G — New Repertory Dance Company/Jan. 12-14. Call 974-2169 for more information. M IL W A U K E E B A L L E T — Clarence Brown Theatre / Jan. 20 at 8:15. ATLAN TA BALLET COM PANY Theatre/Jan. 26at 8:15/$6.00 and $7.00.



p alle t F O L K L O R IC O — Mexican ballet troupe/Clarence Brown Theatre/Feb. 27 at 8:15. N E W R E P E R T O R Y D A N C E C O N C E R T - Clarence Brown Theatre/April 27-29 at 8:15/Call 974-2169 for more information.

B IL L E V A N S D A N C E C O M P A N Y Brown Theatre/ May 3-5 at 8:15.



Unless otherwise specified Admission is as follows: Students: $1.00/Faculty &■ Staff: $3.00/General: $4.00

S P E C IA L EVENTS " S Y M P H O N Y P R E C L U D E S " - The Dulin Art Gallery will present a series of lectures previewing upcoming symphony concerts and instrumentalists. Norris Dyer, Program Director of WUOT, will conduct and lead the lectures. They will be held on the Sunday previous to the Thursday concerts, at the Dulin Art Gallery and they will be free to the first 125 people. As of yet the symphonies are unannounced, however the exact dates of the lectures are listed below. Jan, 14 at 3:00; Feb. 11 at 3:00; March 11 at 2:00; April 1 at 3:00. For more information call 523-1178.

Larry Bryant

Phoenix - Fall 1978  
Phoenix - Fall 1978