Revives the Dead 3rd Annual

Jordan Nichols of Unacquainted Strangers

Sam Taylor and Jordan Nichols of Unacquainted Strangers
Joel Ansett and Dan DeCristofaro
Stephen Horst and Julie Kucks
Julie Kucks

Tyler Estes and Clint EstesJulie Kucks and Hannah Later
Thanks for taking these photos Allie Baca and Hannah Later!

SCA Revives the Dead

We are holding our 3rd annual SCA Revives the Dead art gallery and concert event tonight in Ketler Rec Oak Room. Please come to see the artwork, hear The Echo poetry readings, and hear great bands. Also, come for food and drinks and buy some shirts and CDs. It starts at 8 and will end at 11pm. Our line up of bands is:

8:30 Unacquainted Strangers (Sam Taylor and Jordan Nichols)

9:00 Joel Ansett

9:30 Tyler Estes

10:00 Julie Kucks

10:30 Stephen Horst

See you there!

SCA's 3rd Annual Revive the Dead Event

We are holding our 3rd annual Revive the Dead event on December 6th from 8-11pm. We are collaborating with the campus group Echo and will hold this gallery and concert event in the Oak Room in Ketler Rec. Musicians and bands that will be performing include Kate Weingartner, Julie Kucks, Stephen Horst, Tyler Estes, and Sam Taylor and his band Unacquainted Strangers. We will also have a gallery set up in the Oak Room featuring a wide range of student artists. If you have art that you are interested in displaying at our event, please email Hannah Williams at williamshe1@gcc.edu.

Layering in Colder Weather

Victoria's outfit is all the more wonderful because she is this graceful and this gorgeous every day. Her outfits consistently reveal her unique personal style. She makes store-bought clothes her very own so that you no longer see the label of the clothes she wears but you just see her and her own style. All her clothes, including shoes, are from J. Crew in this photo and most of her wardrobe is J. Crew. If I organized a fashion show (and maybe SCA will), I would pick Victoria as stylist and feel very confident about the layering, color palette, and accessories of each outfit! Thanks Victoria!

Starting a new semester with style

I'm back from a semester abroad in the Netherlands and have learned a few things. I've learned that Grove City has more sunny days and pleasanter weather than Den Haag in Holland where I lived. And I learned that I missed seeing sun dresses. Living in the city, and a cold city, even through May, most people wore black and neutral colors. The color in my life in Den Haag was almost solely provided by my Spanish roommate Mayte. So it is good to be back and see on campus adorable dresses like this one on Callie. Callie was studying with her roommates, who I really enjoyed meeting and talking to, near the Quad when I asked her if I could take her photo. She got her dress at Target, which makes it that much more awesome. Like all of my favorite well-dressed girls, Callie said she dresses for comfort. But she has a really good eye too- the dress is gorgeous!

Mute

I hear what you're saying
Muffled through cement blocks -
Poetical praying
To the rhythm of clocks.

Beat, beat the words,
But it isn't quite working
There is a ford
But the water is murky.

Language takes its own way down,
Not a goose-stepping tread
Rather, it falls and it drowns
But I can't say it's dead.

Sunshine is more elusive than haze
So we talk and we laugh
Through a chink, in a daze
Pyramis, Thisbe, trapped in a gaff.

And yet there is love
Strained though may be
Cupped hand round a dove
We muse on the free.

Maria Lawson, '13

Through the Dark, Glassy

Creative impulses like a
Clear plastic umbrella -
Pops up to keep the wet out
But I can still see the
Drops fall from God's house
To my head and I
Flinch.

By Maria Lawson, '13

here comes the sun

Elizabeth is wearing a gorgeous dress from Anthropologie. The cut and color and metallic in the dress is absolutely beautiful! I love how she personalized the outfit too. She always looks effortlessly beautiful.

A week with Elizabeth

My dear friend Elizabeth just spent a wonderful semester in Dunedin, New Zealand. It was fabulous looking at her amazing photos of cheeky kiwi birds and mountains and waterfalls and the beautiful landscape. She is visiting all her friends at Grove City for a week, and I've gotten to steal her away for a few trips and outings.

At the Cathedral of Learning of University of Pittsburgh, the Nationality Rooms, the Armenian Room

In Hannah's room

In Volant, at a gift shop, we met a 7-month old bulldog named Tallulah

At Lulu's Noodles in Oakland, the food was delicious!

The Cathedral of Learning, the Hungarian Room

At Heinz Chapel, in Oakland

Professor Forum

The Professor Forum was held this past November by the SCA and was organized by Lauren Thomas, who is on SCA's Committee for Community and Education. It was a great success. Look for a similar event in the future.

Find us in the Collegian!

The SCA is working with the campus radio WSAJ to produce an album of student-written acoustic songs. We had auditions in October and 10 students' songs were chosen to be recorded and produced on a CD that will come out in February 2010. The CD should be sold in the bookstore by the end of next year and will become an annual project with 10 new student-written songs every year. Sarah Hill, who is one of our publicity chairs in the SCA, spearheaded the project and Brian Vagt and Chris LeSeur of WSAJ have organized all of the auditions and recordings and more in order to get this album off the ground.

Emily Perper, Collegian Entertainment Editor, wrote an article about the WSAJ/SCA Collaborative album EP of 10 student-written acoustic songs. Find it in the paper this week! Thanks Emily- thanks for taking a genuine interest in the club to write your article: you captured the spirit of SCA and its mission!

(click to enlarge)

This Monday, the S.C.A. is hosting a listening party of the audition demos for our upcoming album with WSAJ! At the party, we will also be announcing the album art competition which will culminate in a coffeehouse event to decide the winner. Come out to listen to some great tunes and contribute your vision to the music.

Style in Pairs

I love pairing gray with prints, red scarves, lil black dresses, and floral prints paired with brown accents (boots and belt). I loved how you two were just strolling campus on a Saturday night in these outfits. Thanks for letting me take your photo!
When I ask people to take their photo, I start off asking if they've heard of GC Scene. If not, I explain the blog and what I do, and sometimes I'll ask if they've heard of the Sartorialist (www.thesartorialist.com) who takes photos of stylish people in NYC and other cities and actually now has a book out. Sorry, for being a creeper, Haley and asking to take your photo, but you looked adorable. Hannah, on the other hand, is used to my strange requests and this is her second time on the blog. She got this dress during fall break in Chicago- Urban Outfitters for $10! I love the gorgeous color. And Haley, your outfit is fabulous, I love everything about it.

November style

Thanks Alison for letting me take your photo! You look gorgeous and your outfit is perfect. I love the fitted grey top with the whimsy skirt and the footless leggings are the perfect match. It's American Apparel Grove City style.

colder weather threads

The high waisted skirt looks so great. The black tights and black flats remind me of Audrey Hepburn and her relaxed, comfortable style and love for black and tights. And I love that you were in the library studying in this! It attests to the comfort!

Thanks Emily for letting me take your photo! Her glasses are the best. But her whole outfit is so well put-together. The simple dress, with the fringe-y scarf, and the pop of color with her flats.

Thanks Kate and Emily for letting me take your photos!

Damascus

“Jenny, stay in the truck. It’s naked.” Jenny got out of the truck.
Bill had one hand on his hip, and the other had unearthed his head from beneath his baseball cap. He scratched his head.
Jenny took a quick look then discreetly began calling into the labyrinthine corn fields for some sort of help.
“Where did he come from?” Bill said aloud, pacing around like there was engine trouble. “He isn’t dead, at least. Well, not dead. But I really don’t know what we can do.”
There was a baseball field nearby, and the lights created a thick carpeted bask across the fields, spilling onto the road so that when Bill finally made a decision, though it was only to turn off the car, the shaft of light wetted the limp figure on the ground with its glow.
“Let’s see if there’s someone there who can help us,” she said, unnerved.
Bill twiddled with his dead cell phone a bit more, and scornful of his lack of strength and unwillingness to part from any buoy in this new bizarre ocean, he tossed it onto the driver’s seat.
First, they had to decide what to do with the unconscious man. For safety’s sake, Bill decided Jenny would stay with the truck. He was reaching down to sling the anatomical specimen over his shoulder when Jenny shuddered and pleaded that if he had a concussion they shouldn’t move him. Bill gave up his jacket for proprieties sake, and went towards the light.
The field was deserted except for a gaggle of old men – professors at the university thirty miles away. They ate popcorn and laughed in their slacks and coat jackets like boys, and wholly lacked resonance with their location. The crickets and the breeze and the sky melted into the grim aspect of desperate, echoless, gossiping chalk.
In the darkness, they squinted against the lights, and its glaring reception in their glasses.
Bill slowed as he reached the congregation and pointed back towards the road with a guilty stride. One of the gentlemen addressed him as “son,” as in: “what can I do for you, son?”
Jenny was sitting in the passenger seat when the tribe arrived, she sat still, watching the naked being which had begun to stir, to rub his rusted palms gingerly, to inch his back up from the ground with groaning hesitancy.
The men laughed and slapped Bill on the back and said things like “you sure were telling the truth!”
Then the debate began. Do we take him to the hospital? One hand on the ground. Consider this might be a mental case. Head supported by neck, staring up at the windowless sky. Well, what’s our first priority here? Knees raised, shoulders slumped. I’ve got a nephew in Kansas who can give us some advice, works as a psychiatrist. Bill gave Jenny a hand out of the truck. Don’t forget, there’s no service in these doldrums. They lifted his elbows. Is our duty ethical, or medical?
Bill and Jenny and the man sat together on the side of the dusty road, under the hum of the artificial light, watching the professors talk into the night.

By Maria Lawson, '13

Wild: A Declaration of the Soul

Wild is tomorrow! We are all very excited for this gallery and concert event. On the menu: candy, cake, pbj, and juice boxes. Original tunes by Society members and plenty of original artwork exploring childhood and untamed soul. The event shirts just came in and they are of baller status. Buy one today!

Playing with Fire

Mary – a parishioner – carried a Zippo lighter in her pocketbook. She didn’t smoke, and in fact had a moral aversion to it, like the inhalation was a communion between man and the temporal world. Oxygen was thin and hardly satisfactory, but her own personal subjugation was to subsist on the sub-par.
In August, the Catholic congregation finalized their lease on a new building with a contemporary youth room, so the Protestants snatched up the old venue and pocketed the history. In September, the church sheathed its new congregation officially, and by October, the renovations were complete.
Mary helped with the denominational overhaul and in particular directed the removal of the stained glass that was “contrary to doctrine”.
The church converted; it denounced the virgin mother and they physically expelled her. The saints wept, then packed their carpet bags and left with her, trailing behind like a tail, inching back towards the heavenly father and His new youth room.
She stood inside while they removed the glass, shouting superfluous instructions, and watched the light change. The dust lifted and as the colors brightened, so the capacity for noise seemed to grow. The slab of Virgin Mother bobbed away on the shoulders of her pallbearers.
Mary drew out her lighter. It had the Virgin Mary on it. She flipped the lid, severing Mary’s head so the fire could sprout.
Prometheus strove to bring man the gift of the gods, and there it was, burning in her palm, a testament to the pattern of technological modernity. This lighter that Jonah had given her as a parting blow – to ease the sting of separation – and what he hoped would bring her to smoking or vandalism or some manifestation of daring rebellion instead of the cold, fishy pacification she clung to.
“Be in heaven when you belong to it and be human while you are human!” he said, bending his knees in rhythm with his exclamation mark. And she laughed and went on living, until she watched Mary slip from the fingers of the workmen and shatter into rainbows on the concrete.
While a few minutes earlier, she had been looking through the medium of art, through the painted air of the stained glass, she then saw into the undiluted light of day, and watched the fire of Mary burn in the palm of her hand.
The gap between sanctity and desecration shrunk, eating away at its wafer lining, until all that remained was perception. At the fork, which road? Because there stood Mary, and the pastor speaking to her with his thumbs in his belt loops, proclaiming success, and she couldn’t answer him.
Wind, breathing through the whole in the stained glass, snuffed the flame of the Zippo, and Mary looked at the pastor of her church, searching his face for something unexpected, and met a confused vacancy.
It all felt predestined.
She had the idea that Jonah was wrong about what he said, but she knew she hadn’t grasped any sort of truth yet. It was as though her limbs and organs had come unattached.
So she pulled together what bodily organization she could, and left the church through the hole in the stained glass.

By Maria Lawson, '13

Your kicks caught my eye

What I noticed first about Jenn were her Vans. I'm a fool for Chuck Taylors and Vans. I also loved the way she cuffed her jeans- since they were too long, she cut the sides and rolled it. Plus, she's absolutely rocking a Grove City College sweatshirt which is kinda tough to do because a lot of our apparel really isn't that big of a deal. Thanks Jenn, you're a sweetheart!

Hello Zooey

This is lovely Hannah on Sunday. I can picture adorable Zooey Deschanel wearing this skirt and ruffled shirt ensemble.

a chilly october

Thanks, Emily, for letting me take your photo! I love the red with the black and grey, and most importantly, it's comfortable and cozy for a chilly day.

Java Jam Homecoming '09

SCA President Sam Perry, MC for Java Jam, sings "Heartless" by Kanye West.

Sam, Brittany, and Dominic performing "Falling Slowly" by Glen Hasard.

Brothers Bits & Pieces, includes Josh, Lucas, and Kevin, who performed their own songs, including the song "Sweet Sound".

We are Merely the Artists

‘I’m very good, ‘ Jonathan went on, but so simply that there was no egotism in the remark, ‘but I’m nothing like as good as this. I simply am not. I could never, never paint this.’
--C. Williams, All Hallows’ Eve

As an artist, have you ever had the experience of looking at your finished work and thinking: “this isn’t mine! This can’t be that awkward block I was scratching away at or that strange fabric I was mixing runny colors on?” At the end of a work, if it is successful, everything comes together suddenly and the picture is clear. Of course we don’t always “get it right”, but when we do, it’s a most uncanny feeling. There’s a disconnect for the artist between the making and the viewing.
We talk of art as having a life of its own, and that seems true in one sense. Of course we literally are the ones chiseling away at something or adding dabs of shadow here and there, but the completed work is its own entity. The artist Jonathan in All Hallows’ Eve feels this when he leaves his painting for a few hours and comes back to find it “more real” and “better” than he had left it. It’s as though the piece has come alive once he has ceased his labor.
I don’t want to suggest anything too mystic, but perhaps it is well to note that we are not the only authors of our own work. The wood, clay, and paint themselves shape the work and determine its character. As artists we must be aware of our mediums and ensure that we are using them properly and according to their nature. The artist may be the main creative force, but if he works against his medium, he will fail. Perhaps in the end all I’m getting at in this post is a reminder of humility. We are hardly the “masters” of our own work, we are merely the artists.

-Heather VanderWall

The Society of Communication & Aesthetics in 09

This past year, The Society of Communication & Aesthetics was started up to bring about an artistic community in a college lacking an art program. We started up the blog as a simple way to get started. This is what we wrote about:

This year, we have plenty of new members with new ideas. Like these:

And so, as we continue to define ourselves as a group, you can see it all unfold here on the internet or come to one of our many events that we have planned.

Stay tuned and stay classy,

Sam

President of the Society of Communication & Aesthetics