this site now hosts past posts from the beginning of the blog (c. 2017) to our website move in 2022. feel free to look through archived posts here! our new site can be found at calvin.edu/dialogue or here.
thanks all :)
thanks all :)
this site now hosts past posts from the beginning of the blog (c. 2017) to our website move in 2022. feel free to look through archived posts here! our new site can be found at calvin.edu/dialogue or here.
thanks all :)
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What does it mean to be Black? What sets apart our experiences? These are questions I grapple with as a young Black person growing up in America. I've come to realize that Blackness is bittersweet. A fundamental part of our experience is the pain and suffering that is intertwined in our history but also the joy that comes from that. To begin the conversation on Blackness we must acknowledge the disparities in our experience. But because of this it also adds to the relatability in our community. Being black has always been a polarizing experience for me. No matter where I was I always felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. Especially in Black communities. I used to see it as something that was unique to me. I would blame the fact that I grew up in predominantly white spaces or that I just wasn't the 'right' kind of Black person. The frustration and ultimately humiliation lead to me distancing myself from the community as a whole but as I've grown up and talked to Black people from all walks of life this was a very common thread. Why is that? Could it be as Black Americans it feels like we don't truly have a home? Ripped from our motherland and yet still not accepted in the place we've inhabited for the last 400 years. Whatever the reason, it's important to realize there isn't a singular Black experience but that only adds to the uniqueness of our culture. When first coming into my newfound pride of being Black, I shed my shame and was hit with the pain and realization of our origin. Not that I wasn't aware of it before. But I am here today because my forefathers survived. While that's beautiful, I must sit with the reality of what that means. This leads me to the conclusion that Blackness is like lemonade. Without lemons what are you left with? Simply just sugary water. Looking at what is Blackness sugar water, I see our dance. Creativity expressed through hair and song. I see ornate nails and Grandma's in their Sunday best. The ingenuity found in the smile of a bored Black teen about to make the next viral trend. Blackness is what you bring to it. But with all the sweetness you have to accept and take the bitterness.
A good example of this is Awkwafina in Crazy Rich Asians as well as her stage presence pre-2018 who puts on a Blaccent for comedic effect, but when you look at interviews suddenly it's nowhere to be found. This highlights a problem where non-Black people will wear our culture as a costume, only disrobing when they've reached the right amount of prestige. This ties into the commodification of Black joy. Our affectations and mannerisms are often played out in media only for laughs. To someone that doesn't regularly participate in our community or break bread with my uncles and aunties, they seem absurd. So we have our new phrase or word of the week that then is over and misused until it's served its purpose. Discarded and without purpose, it'll be deemed out of touch to still be using it. But what about those who were using it before and will continue using it after? Instead of AAVE being taken seriously as a dialect it's instead begun to be chalked up to internet-speak. So to answer the question: "what does it mean to be Black?" Blackness is the experiences found in-between the cracks of suffering and joy. The stories not birthed just from our trials but also our tribulations. Reveling in our past to create our future. But also being painfully aware of the marketability of fruits of our labor. To quote Amandla Stenberg, "What would America be like if we loved black people as much as we love black culture?" Anais NoblesStaff Member Under a bridge, into a telephone pole, onto the rings of a tree stump. Last fall, with care and precision, Gabby Eisma took a set of metal die stamps, and pounded poetry into outdoor spaces, letter by letter. Gabby invited local poets into her project, prompting us with the words, “regarding ground”, or “Re: Ground”. When we responded, she painstakingly stamped each poem into a fitting, earthy home. My small poem sits quietly in the frame of a garden bed, speculating about spring. It’s tucked away, faded, and might never be found. Art is often curated for an audience. The “Re: Ground” poetry project suggests that audience engagement doesn’t affirm the art’s worth. In this case, the act of curating itself was the art. Gabby’s choices concerning medium, location, and collaboration, made her project a full masterpiece beyond a collection of poems. It’s hard for me to imagine a more visceral form of listening. She didn’t just read our poems; she made room for our thoughts in a unique, lasting way. Gabby’s actions are a physical example of the meaningful response de-centered voices have been seeking through social justice movements. Don’t just listen. Make room. Clumsy, inauthentic attempts at inclusion have been pounced on and ripped to shreds. How do you have a consistent, genuine response to social justice issues while facing fatigue and rejection? Burnout tempts us to choose apathy. Especially when we want to advocate for people with radically different life experiences. One thing we never burn out on is the gentle and consistent act of curation. We never stop choosing what gets our time and space. Some things are predisposed to intentionality like creative publications, art galleries, or social media feeds. Subtle types of curation exist as well. In personal lives, people curate their own libraries, preferred brands of food, favorite restaurants, wardrobes, hobbies, etc. Organizations and industries curate when they select curriculums, freelance agencies, brands for retail spaces, musical talent, photographers—even the coffee roasters represented in a local coffee shop. Curating is art; an intentional, daily rhythm. Because it is an established practice, it’s a great starting point for experiencing the voices, thoughts, dreams, expertise, & input of the excluded. The action of uplifting voices is a game changer because it clearly communicates to people. If you’re burnt out on social justice, and not sure how sustainable impact is possible, know this. Natural curation of our daily lives can be powerful activism and advocacy. Here are three things your actions tell people when you uplift their voices.
If you’re exhausted fighting for positive change in your community, you’re not alone. Start with what comes naturally. What hobbies are you eager to make time for? What interests always energize you? Then ask, how are your passions experienced from different cultural, ethnic, and socio-economic contexts? Let curiosity lead to new, insightful relationships. It’s beautiful to experience outlets for sharing and receiving personal expression. Dialogue is an outlet embedded into the culture of Calvin University. Gabby’s thoughtful mission to mark Grand Rapids with our poetry reminds me that each of us can provide those outlets. Stewardship of each other’s vulnerability is a daunting and humbling task because it takes courage to encounter other ideas. Our stories can affirm, challenge, or convict. But they won’t leave an imprint on individuals or communities until we make space for them. Let's create. Let’s curate. Let’s uplift each other’s voices.
Olivia MasonStaff Member I remember poking around on the computer at my on campus job in March, about two weeks before life as we knew it packed up and went home. Absentmindedly, I looked up “coronavirus updates” because there wasn’t much going on at work. I was shocked by stories of cruise ships in quarantine and Italy on lock down, saying to my co-worker, “They have to stand THREE FEET APART from each other BY LAW!” Then, about four articles in, my stomach started to swirl. Colleges on the east coast were going online. Coronavirus was making its way to Michigan. I was at one time frantic with all the fresh knowledge and delirious with denial, my gut telling me the gap between the news and my life was about to collapse, my mind incapable of imagining it. To point out the painfully obvious, my life did change. And billions of others’ did, too. That moment, and the obstacle course of months that followed, taught me that sometimes the world’s fragility will wallop you upside the head. This reminder simmers on every page of Octavia E. Butler’s seminal dystopian novel Parable of the Sower and its sequel Parable of the Talents. It follows Lauren, a young woman from Southern California who lives in a community walled off from the worst effects of climate change, street violence, and political crises. She has a burning sense that her world is unsustainable and tries to warn her community that it’s about to collapse. When catastrophe does occur and her town is destroyed, Lauren must flee, joining waves of refugees from Southern California headed north for good jobs and access to water. Eventually, she creates a religion based on the inevitability of change. When full-on quarantine began, some friends and I decided to read the Parable books for a Zoom book club. Written in the 90s, they’re frighteningly on the nose with their visions of life in the 2020s, to the point that some parts would feel corny if written today. For example, a far-right president literally vows to “make America great again” and inspires hate crimes across the country. Today, that’s the news. Going into the first book, I wanted Butler’s prophetic voice to help me make sense of 2020. I wanted to point to lines in the book and say, “See! We are living in a dystopia!” But the Parable duology resonates far deeper than spooky connections. It’s a story about drastic change that no one can prepare for, how people handle it or choose not to, how a country becomes a disaster, and how individuals caught in the tide remake their world. At the beginning of each chapter, there is a verse from Lauren’s religion-in-the-making, Earthseed. They’re simple on their own. Taken with the rhythm of the story, they’re a turning gemstone, reflecting different sides of one solid message: God is Change. If God literally being change sounds looney, think of it more abstractly. Lauren names change as God because of how powerful it is in her life. Each time she lays down roots or invests in anything permanent, she knows that her country’s conditions could make it all crumble. Yet she understands that change comes with a threat as well as a promise. I read Lauren’s story while the United States teetered on the edge of transformation. The country bubbled all year, heat from the pandemic pushing issues like health care and wealth inequality to the bursting surface. The Black Lives Matter movement poured into the streets in response to ongoing cruelty against Black people at the hands of police. Political candidates promised a return to normal, but, in my opinion, their visions of the status quo fell flat when our historical moment demanded anything but. All along, Lauren’s voice buzzed in my brain. God/is both creative and destructive/demanding and yielding/sculptor and clay. As we’ve learned from COVID, the stability we cherish is not as permanent as it seems. Yet neither is the current order of things in which police violence is frequent and policing is our response to too many societal ills. If change can destroy what we take for granted, we can use it to create something better, too. I think we can expect more transformation in the near future. We might be cooped up at home, settling into that “new normal,” until a smattering of news articles sends us into nervous sweats. Or we might see goals realized that were once regarded as impossible. Whatever happens, I’m glad I had the Parable novels to keep me company this year. Butler tells a good old-fashioned story with a resonance that’s chilling and hopeful at the same time. It didn’t give me answers, but it lended me clarity, something I know I’ll be looking for next time we get walloped upside the head. Ezra CrakerStaff Member You’ve probably heard the phrase “one man's trash is another man's treasure” thousands of times, to the point where it may not mean anything to you. However, to artists like Jane Perkins, Tom Deininger, and Yuken Teruya, this phrase is more just a boring cliché—it's a motto. These creators are known for collecting garbage, recycled materials, and old oddities, and using them to generate distinctive pieces that captivate audiences all over the world. For artist Jane Perkins, trash is not simply something to be thrown away, but a medium through which one can create beautiful pieces of art. This UK-based artist who refers to herself as a “re-maker” is known for her impressive art pieces, typically portraits or recreations of famous artworks, which are entirely composed of recycled materials. Jane collects small trinkets and trash— jewelry, small toys, and shells for example— and carefully arranges them to create impressive pieces, such as a portrait of Albert Einstein or a unique recreation of Hokusai’s The Great Wave off Kanagawa. After selling her artwork, Jane likes to try and recreate the same pieces using new objects. By using all recycled materials, Jane Perkins is able to give used objects headed for the landfill a new life. Tom Deininger, a German sculptor known for his incredible trash creations, also relies entirely on others’ discarded junk to create his art. Deininger is known for traveling the world to collect unwanted objects and using his artistic eye to recycle dumpster-destined trash into something fresh and original. Starting with an idea, Tom begins his projects with a rough sketch, then meticulously searches for garbage in specific shapes and colors to bring his vision to life. His works, typically 3D sculptures, often function as optical illusions which seem to change depending on where the viewer is standing. Tom seeks to use his art as a way to inform audiences on how much single-use plastic is trashed every day, and inspires others to be mindful of how much they are throwing away, as well as inspire unique uses for what would normally be deemed useless. In New York, visionary artist Yuken Teruya is famous for his stimulating pieces, usually involving recycled paper, that carry powerful messages about the way society uses natural resources. His art installation, Corner Forest, is one of Teruya’s most popular works. Composed primarily of toilet paper rolls, Yuken carves detailed trees into the cardboard to create a lovely forest of paper trees. The trees echo the beauty of what the cardboard rolls used to be and serve as a reminder of the way natural resources are being quickly depleted. Yuken Teruya’s works are not only unique but incredibly thought-provoking, offering insight into relevant and complex problems that the world faces today. These artists manage to not only create interesting art pieces out of others’ trash, but they also use their work to convey important messages about waste, recycling, and sustainability. It’s truly inspiring to see artists using their work as a platform to educate audiences on consequential topics, and create some pretty sick art while doing it. Want to see more recycled pieces? Check out the artists' websites: Jane Perkins Tom Deininger Yuken Teruya Sam FraserStaff Member Though a pandemic may have forced the Dialogue staff out of our cozy office space (no social distancing in the storage closet), we've been hard at work this semester on Issue 53.1! We're excited to share it with you in February. In the meantime, take a second to meet us: Molly Vander Werp is this year's Dialogue editor. She's a senior studying biochemistry + writing, and this is her fourth year on staff. Though covid has forced her to reimagine a lot of Dialogue-doings, she's grateful for a staff of kind, creative individuals to laugh with and at. Outside of Dialogue, she enjoys cooking spicy foods, hanging out with Nubian goats, and cutting her hair a bit shorter each year. She really loves cilantro, her cat, Soup, and the 2002 film Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron. It’s probably her favorite. She bets it’s yours, too. Annake VandeBrake is a senior finishing her studies in film production and graphic design. She has been Dialogue’s layout editor for the past three years, and is so glad she chose to apply her freshman year. In her final year on staff, she hopes to curate an online archival database of past Dialogue issues that range over 50 years. She enjoys drinking weekly chai lattes, hanging out with any and every dog, and critiquing the latest films. Lucia Skuldt is a sophomore at Calvin, and it’s her sophomore year on Dialogue too! Her major? Still undecided. But she is in the BFA program at Calvin, which has been really cool for her. Most recently, she’s been procrastinating by learning about different writing systems and languages (thanks, Wikipedia). She should be wearing her glasses but probably isn’t, so make sure to wear something super identifiable—she’d love to say hi. Avery Gill is a senior majoring in psychology and writing. On staff, she helps out where she can, designing posters and working on layout. She is passionate about all forms of art, especially black and white ink drawings and Edward Hopper paintings. In her free time, she simultaneously watches and roasts Riverdale and dreams about having time to read for pleasure. We are all creative beings and thus creating is essential to our being. Dialogue showcases these creations, and she is so grateful to be part of that. Olivia Mason is a double major in graphic design and writing. She can be found geeking out over typography, urban sketching in coffee shops, learning new songs on the violin, soaking up sunlight, or watering her uncooperative plants. She rarely functions without music--indie, alternative R&B, 80’s jams, disco tunes, and old school lounge jazz are a backdrop to her life. To Olivia, experiencing & sharing creativity is a blessing. Phil Rienstra is a fourth-year student, majoring in music and writing, and hoping to find a career somewhere in editing and publishing. He is a washed-up saxophonist, a wannabe intellectual, a fruit juice enthusiast, and a notorious bandana-wearer. He is also engaged to be married next summer, which is pretty cool. If you have an hour or five to kill, you can ask him about the enneagram. Clara Visser is a junior from New Jersey studying writing and graphic design. She spends her free time making art, playing guitar (well, more like learning guitar), rock climbing, and doing yoga. She’s never too busy or too tired to bake, and it's not uncommon to find her kneading bread dough in the kitchen at 1 a.m. She loves to be outside and will never turn down a hike, camping trip, or venturing outside in a thunderstorm. She enjoys reading, writing, and listening to music, and is unashamedly slightly addicted to Agents of Shield. After college she hopes to become a graphic designer, or, on the off-chance that those plans fall through, she might just abandon her degrees and open a bakery. Izzy Nunez is a junior studying graphic design and sociology; what she’s going to do with that after graduation is something she’d like to know as well. The keys to making her smile are fresh pots of coffee, mispronouncing words, the smell of books, and warm hugs. Aside from art, Izzy likes making situation-specific Spotify playlists, watching cartoons, and baking bread. She identifies as an earth bender and has been known to be a major simp—I mean Hufflepuff. She’s been on Dialogue staff since her freshman year and has loved every minute of it. Jacob Aupperlee is a junior studying literature with minors in writing and philosophy. He’s enjoying his first year on Dialogue staff, though he regrets waiting this long to join. He loves biking, writing/reading poetry, East of Eden, and peanut butter pie. He feels strongly that Times New Roman should be the default font on all word processors and that more graphic novels deserve a place in the literary canon. Ezra Craker is a sophomore studying political science, writing, and Spanish. He was born and raised in Grand Rapids and at this rate he will probably die here, too. Coincidentally, the hospital he was born in is now a nursing home! He has no knowledge whatsoever of business or cooking, but he dreams of opening a small coffee and sandwich place where people can bum around and argue. He guesses his Dialogue staff bio is the right place to manifest this Sam Fraser is a sophomore studying secondary English education and studio art. She loves art in all its forms, especially drawing and painting, creative writing, and music. When she gets a rare break from homework, Sam enjoys exploring local coffee shops, listening to the same Spotify playlists on repeat, and browsing Goodwill for comfy sweaters to add to her ever-expanding collection. Sydney Klimek is a sophomore studying film (even though the studying part is somewhat rare). She likes to spend her time indoors, watching movies or stalking other people’s Spotify playlists, and going through different phases of art (right now her thing is making earrings, but who knows what it’ll be in a month). She loves talking about herself yet somehow hates writing this introduction, so if you actually want to get to know her, just say hi. :) Irene Kontomah is a sophomore who has a multidisciplinary major in arts, engineering and French. This is her first year on Dialogue. She has loved her time on staff so far, despite the social distancing, and is helping out with event planning. She loves photography, interior design, architecture, and plants. She also can’t stop fantasizing about traveling to Singapore after watching Crazy Rich Asians. If you ever find her scrolling through her phone, she is probably looking through interior design boards on Pinterest. Also, she needs all the advice she can get on how to take better care of plants! Jocelyn Nunez-Colon is a second-year student studying strategic communications and writing. She is honored to join the Dialogue staff this year, where she enjoys partaking in social media strategy and digital engagement while helping where she can. Her heart has many homes, but she is currently based in a small town in Northeast Ohio. When she isn’t searching for the greatest thrift shop pieces, obsessing over astrology, or endlessly scrolling through Tik Tok, you can find her appreciating and creating a variety of art in different mediums. She’s not sure if she’s ready to call herself an artist yet, but she’s getting there. She credits classic novels, Chipotle burrito bowls, and Disney Pixar’s Ratatouille for shaping her into the person she is today. Timothy Stephens is a sophomore at Calvin, studying music composition as their major and German as the attached minor. An avid fan of the humanities and the arts, being a staff member of Dialogue was a perfect fit for them. They also enjoy making fun of science deniers, as making fun of flat earth conspiracies are always fun. They may be anxious and afraid all the time, but don't let that stop them--they will be more than likely to make some bad joke that only one (two, if we're lucky) people will laugh at (given a sample size of around 50 people). Sarah Jaley is a freshman from the suburbs of Chicago double majoring in Global Development and International Relations. She was immersed in the arts as a child but didn't consider herself an artist until she found theatre and film. She's terrible with proportions and finds herself in moody abstract paintings when she's sad, or collage-making when she's happy. When she isn't rolling around in the grass, baking a pie, or dreaming about her favorite French patisserie, she is desperately searching for a way to befriend Ewoks and empower crowds of rebels like Princess Leia. She is Indian, Ecuadorian, and taking her pent-up rage over injustices and transforming it into social action. Photos by Adrian Van Stee. Q. What draws you to photography and film? Do the two mediums complement one another? A. "It’s hard for me to give a specific reason as to why I’m so drawn to photo and film because it’s always been an obsession of mine. I can remember being seven years old and watching hours and hours of behind the scenes footage on Star Wars DVDs and then trying to re-create the special effects they were doing. It’s just always been something I’ve wanted to do so I’ve always said yes to any chance I can to use a camera. I think that every filmmaker should be required to take a photo class. Film is just a bunch of pictures put together at 24 frames per second, so understanding photography has helped me as a filmmaker immensely. On the other hand, doing film has made me a better photographer. They’re far from the same thing but a lot of the artistic aspects transfer from one medium to the other." Q. Is there a story behind your published photo, "Waves?" A. "I was on vacation in Portugal with my family and, as I was a high-schooler, I was being very moody and wanted absolutely nothing less than to go on yet another walk (one of my family’s favorite vacation pastimes). We got to this beach to go for a walk and I begrudgingly brought my camera along. I was walking down the beach and I saw this guy a few hundred yards in front of me so I took a picture without really thinking. Later, I was going through the photos and I realized how perfect that moment had been: the person, the waves, the cliffs, all lined up better than if I had set it all up." Q. What are your general impressions of the arts community at Calvin? What are you excited or frustrated by? A. "I think the arts community at Calvin is great. There’s an emphasis on the arts that seems genuine. For me, I think the most frustrating part of the arts at Calvin is being a commercial artist. Since a lot of what I do is for clients, my work isn’t necessarily always super groundbreaking or edgy so I think it can be harder for artists like me to be taken seriously since commercial art is often looked down upon when compared to fine art." Q. What advice would you give a new or prospective student looking to get involved in the arts? A. "Find opportunities and show up. If you see a poster for something that looks interesting, go to it. Ask questions, talk to people, and speak up even if it’s scary. If you want to be involved in something do it even if you don’t know anything about it. If you admire an artist on campus, walk up to them or email, introduce yourself and start a conversation. Most importantly, keep making stuff and putting it out there." Q. How has your creative process changed since coming to college? A. "I’m not gonna lie, college has been a little frustrating when it comes to creating. During high school, I had a steady photo job and was shooting all the time (usually 1000+ images a week), plus I would do shoots just for fun at least once a week and try to challenge myself creatively. With the college workload, being on campus 99% of the time, and most of my clients being back home in Chicago, it’s a lot harder for me to get out and shoot which is discouraging. I also don’t know the area as well so it’s harder for me to find places to shoot or find models to shoot with. But if anyone has good spots to shoot or likes modeling please DM me on Instagram @adrianvanstee!" Q. Do you use social media to promote your own work, or to engage with other artists? A. "I do. I follow a ton of photographers on Instagram and I’m constantly saving stuff as inspiration for shoots later. I also post my work on there pretty regularly. I’m not super concerned with building a huge following on insta, but it’s a great way to introduce people to my brand and show them highlights of my work." Check out more of Adrian's work on social media, or visit his website. Sydney KlimekStaff Member
I thought of my aunt, a phenomenal artist herself. She went to a school that offered art and she did so well. My family couldn’t afford to send us both there, so I admired my aunt’s paintings and drawings and tried to follow in her footsteps. My grandparents never invested much time into my art—and I don’t blame them, there was always something to do—but my aunt’s work inspired me to keep creating. When my aunt finished high school and moved to the city, I realized I’d need to carve out my own space in the art world. Up until that point, I never bothered to show my work to anyone. Art was a sacred space for me, providing respite from the busyness of our life. The house on top of the hill taught me how to be disciplined—I kept creating even when it felt like there was no time for it—and resourceful: I didn’t have fancy sketch pads or paints, but I drew and I painted anyway, and I got better every day. So by the time I got out of bed this morning, I thought back to where I started, inspired by my aunt and the sacred space of creating things. I knew that I had no excuse not to create something, now—something even better. I pulled out a fancy sketch pad, and shared my drawing on Instagram. My upbringing has led me to become the artist I am today. It took me years to even call myself an “artist” (nine to be exact), and I still have so far to go. I’m working on my brand, ‘Vavart 25,’ sharing my work more often and more broadly than ever before, and getting better every day. I will forever be grateful for the family I have, the home I grew up in, and the hard places that challenged my creativity. I know nothing is impossible, because I grew up in the house on top of the hill. Mayva Elizabeth Anyango Staff Member
With submissions in and juries poring over pieces, the Dialogue staff would like to take a minute to introduce ourselves. Ever wondered what goes on behind the scenes of Dialogue? Ask us! In the meantime, check out these snapshots of our lives outside the storage closet. Molly Vander Werp is this year's Dialogue editor. She's a junior studying biochemistry + writing, and this is her third year on staff. Outside of Dialogue, she’s a member of the Artist Collaborative and the Student Activities Board. She loves poetry + music, especially, and is currently obsessing over the sestina and Clairo's latest album. She really loves cilantro, her dog, Willis, and the 2002 film Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron. It’s probably her favorite. She bets it’s yours, too. Avery Gill is a junior majoring in psychology and writing. On staff, she helps out where she can, designing posters and working on layout. She is passionate about all forms of art, especially black and white ink drawings and Edward Hopper paintings. In her free time, she simultaneously watches and roasts Riverdale and dreams about having time to read for pleasure. We are all creative beings and thus creating is essential to our being. Dialogue showcases these creations, and she is so grateful to be part of that. Avery is spending fall semester in Budapest, Hungary, but will return to staff in January. Annake VandeBrake is a junior film and graphic design double major, as well as layout editor this year. She enjoys eating tacos and mourns daily for the loss of vine. Some say she talks a lot. She enjoys art in all forms, but really, Bob Ross is the only artist who earns her respect. Elyse Rhoades is a senior studying strategic communications, marketing, and art. This is her third year being on staff for Dialogue, and she helps with graphics and communication for the journal. She's from the Indianapolis area but hopes to never have to move back to Indiana. Being an artist has always been her favorite thing about herself, and she is passionate about creating. Aside from art, she loves make-up, running, and could eat Noodles & Co for every meal. Hajin Yoo is a senior studying strategic communications and French. She's always had a passion for art but did not join Dialogue until her Junior year because she thought it was elitist. Turns out it wasn't! That's growth. Aside from art, Hajin likes to watch Vox videos and keep disco alive. Emma Crevier is a senior studying graphic design and German at Calvin. On staff, she helps with layout and design, making a few posters here and there. Collaging and letter-pressing are her current favorite outlets for creative expression. In her free time, you can probably find her baking banana bread, listening to a podcast, or making bad jokes on the improv team. Izzy Nunez is a big classic car fan and sophomore at Calvin studying graphic design with a double minor in journalism and sociology. She loves good soup and is kinda gluten free. She is from Chicago (like downtown, not a suburb), but now lives in Ann Arbor when not at Calvin. There are times when she is not studying or working...then, you can find her in oversized sweaters on the hunt for the world’s best cup of coffee. She believes the best way to listen to music is either live or at an ear-shattering volume. She collects rocks, patches, and bumper-stickers. On staff she likes to be a part of everything if she can: Dialogue is a part of the reason she came to Calvin and she loves being a part of the process. Clara Visser is a sophomore majoring in graphic design and writing who’s excited to be back on staff for Dialogue another year. She loves spending time outside, and is still trying to adjust to Michigan’s lack of sunlight and mountains. She won’t complain about the extra snow, though. She enjoys art in many forms including drawing, calligraphy, creative writing, and music. When she’s not on campus, she’s probably at a concert. If anyone would like to give her advice about how to stop spending money on concert tickets, she would greatly appreciate it. Mayva Elizabeth Anyango and is a sophomore from Nairobi, Kenya pursuing a major in International Development Studies with minors in Public Health and French. She enjoys painting, drawing and making all sorts of crafts. She just recently started calling herself an artist. She enjoys traveling, videography, public speaking and meeting people from different countries. Currently, her favorite thing is listening to world news, especially from the BBC World Service. She hopes to become a world traveler and development worker someday. Also, she says, nothing beats Kenyan food. Ezra Craker is your average Dialogue staff member (you know, super down to earth). He is a freshman studying political science and film & media, which means he doesn’t know what he wants. He loves all kinds of movies, but if confessing to a priest, he would say Sky High (about the high school for superheroes) is his absolute favorite. Sam Fraser is a first-year student at Calvin and is incredibly excited to be a part of Dialogue. She is a secondary English education major and a studio art minor. Sam loves all forms of art, especially visual art and music, and spends her free time drawing people and plants, listening to the same Spotify playlists on repeat, and playing her cello in the basement of the CFAC. She's also a huge fan of Marvel movies and will do just about anything for a matcha latte. Sydney Klimek is a freshman from Iowa, though it makes her cringe to say that and she's super excited to call Michigan her new home. She's a film major, but loves and appreciates all forms of art—"I just wasn’t gifted in any of the other ones," she says. She says it's ironic how hard it is for her to write an introduction like this considering how much she talks, though she loves listening even more. If you ever want to talk about anything (specifically animal related) she's your girl. Say hi! Nuri Lee is a freshman majoring in digital communications and this is his first year on Dialogue. Although he is Korean, he's an MK from Chad/Kenya (RVA class of 2019). He might seem like a cheeky guy but he enjoys a random deep conversation with random folks. You will probably find him in the library talking with people or around campus riding his longboard, drinking a latte. Lucia Skuldt is in her first year at Calvin. She really would like someone to tell her what to study because she’s interested in a lot of things and is the most indecisive person on the face of the planet. She’s always been interested in art, especially 2-dimensional and ceramics, but still isn’t entirely sure what art itself is (and is working on exploring that further!). Nevertheless, she’s really excited to be a part of Dialogue. She has a lot of emotions about Laika, the Soviet space dog, that should probably be unpacked at some point, but in the meantime, she likes to dye her hair pink occasionally, make too much origami, and look at the sky. You may not know it, but West Michigan has been home to some of the most innovative furniture designers in the world from the mid-20th century to today. Herman Miller, a furniture company founded and based in Zeeland, MI, is a leading high-end home and office furniture company. They first started gaining attention when architect George Nelson joined as director of design in 1945. From there, Herman Miller started designing some of the most recognizable furniture from the 1950s and 1960s. Through that era, Nelson hired some of the world’s leading designers to helm the innovation that the company would be known for. These designers include Charles and Ray Eames, Isamu Noguchi, Robert Propst, and Alexander Girard. Much of their work can be fit under the umbrella term, “Mid-Century Modern Design,” something you might have seen but have never had a word for. Today, Herman Miller maintains its legendary status by continuing to produce their classic furniture designs from the 20th century, and designing new modern furniture that pushes their mission into new, unexpected places. In this post, we’ll take a look at Herman Miller’s innovations in home and office furniture through the 50s and 60s. All of the following was designed and manufactured in Zeeland, MI. Eames Fiberglass Armchair and Side Chair The Eames Fiberglass Armchair was first designed by Charles and Ray Eames for the Museum of Modern Arts’ International Competition for Low-Cost Furniture Design in 1948. After WWII there was a nationwide call for simple, low-cost housing and furniture. This call motivated the modern design movement in the mid-20th century. Herman Miller led this movement to design furniture that thrives in its functionality, which explains why it is still so popular and stylish. How could something purely functional ever go out of style? The Eames responded to the call by designing Herman Miller’s most cost-efficient chair, pictured above. It was notable for its form: one piece of unupholstered fiberglass or plastic mounted on the “Eiffel Tower” leg design. Herman Miller started manufacturing them in 1950 in dozens of colors, and it is still manufactured today as one of their most popular products. The Cubicle Before the cubicle, offices in the first half of the 20th century were designed as a large room full of desks. All desks faced the same way, neatly lined in rows to maximize space. Nothing separated fellow employees, or gave them their own space until Robert Propst designed the cubicle for Herman Miller in 1958. Propst named his cubicle design “Action Office.” It was widely released in 1967, but its first use was in the Federal Reserve Bank of New York in 1963 to increase efficiency in a small work space. The functional design allowed the individual employee to design their own workspace, have privacy, and concentrate on their task. By 2005 the “Action Office” had gained $5 billion in sales for Herman Miller. Eames Lounge Chair After the success of their fiberglass chair design, the Eames’ designed dozens of other pieces of furniture for Herman Miller, most notably the Eames Lounge Chair. After the wood-molding process was perfected shortly after WWII, Charles and Ray Eames designed their first chair and ottoman for a high-end market. The Lounge Chair was their first design that was not affordable or easy to mass-produce. They combined the molded wood with high quality leather to make this approachable piece. The chair is luxurious, made for life, and possibly Herman Miller’s most iconic design from their most prolific years. Ray Eames called the chair “comfortable and un-designy.” The gold standard for modern design. George Nelson Bubble Lamps In 1952, Director of Design, George Nelson, was inspired by silk-cover Swedish lamps that were very expensive and difficult to make. In classic Herman Miller fashion, Nelson redesigned them to include an easily mass-produced wire cage and a thin plastic cover to produce a simple lamp with a soft glow. The simple design is not distracted by unnecessary flair or print. Functionality is its design. Noguchi Table Isamu Noguchi’s iconic coffee table was originally commissioned by A. Conger Goodyear, president of the Museum of Modern Art, in 1938 for his home. It includes two identical sculpted pieces of walnut supporting a large sheet of glass. Herman Miller saw the table and hired Noguchi as a designer on the merit of his table alone. They mass-produced the table for use in either a home or workspace. Herman Miller calls the table “a perfect balance of art and design.” Ethan HohnStaff Member |