Four student films made it to the finals in the International Youth Silent Film Festival. Three cheers for the filmmakers!

You can see the films at the Hollywood Theatre 

Wednesday, May 22, at 7 pm
Tucker Gordon '13 (Fetch)
Sadie Yudkin '14 (Picnic)
Tapwe Sandaine '14 (Jealousy)

Thursday, May 23, at 7 p.m.
Casey Currey-Wilson '13 & Terrance Sun '13 (Top Secret)

 Students from Catlin Gabel and Wilsonville High School are working together on a groundbreaking program, Word and Hand. Its aim is to build new creative skills in young artists and writers by having them responding to each other’s work. Four student writers and four students who are visual artists from each school are paired with their opposite in the other school. In this pilot program funded by the William T. Colville Foundation, the students learn how artists and writers can derive inspiration from each other, and how that unleashes a new area of creativity that most of them—and most mature artists and writers—have never experienced.

 Click on any photo to enlarge it, download it, or start the slideshow.

From the Autumn 2012 Caller

Dale Rawls, MS art

Bachelor's in art, Portland State University. Master's in education, Lewis & Clark College. At CGS since 1989.

The summer of 1973 I was studio assistant to Ray Grimm, who was head of ceramics at PSU. One of the pieces I was excited to help make was a pot made with 50 pounds of clay. Ray explained to me that we would center and throw this big, low, wide pot together.

That summer I realized I wanted to be like Ray: a teacher who continued to make art, and whose work was a reflection of his life. He has continued to be with me when I enter my studio, get on my bike, or work with students making art. His life, his love of problem solving, and his emphasis on process and creativity is a legacy that I hope my students carry into their lives.   

 From the Autumn 2012 Caller

Nance Leonhardt, US art

Bachelor's in fine arts, radio, TV, and film, Evergreen State College. Master's in teaching, Seattle University. At CGS since 2007.

I became a teacher because of my classmate Steve Parkey. I must have spent more than 75% of my young life with Steve, and the only thing I could say about him was that he wore a lot of brown.

 

Everything changed during my sophomore year when I enrolled in a graphic design class. My teacher was a working artist (known by her last name, Hall), the epitome of cool, who wore chic French clothing and oversized tribal jewelry. One day in class I heard her shriek, “Oh, Mr. Parkey, how MARVELOUS!” She pulled us around to see his illustration—a Boeing commuter heading for work in a series of panels where the vehicle shifted from a pogo stick to a 747. Hall pointed out the clever mutation of lines, the way the drawing seemed to accelerate across the page and come to life. In that moment, she was able to tease out the rare and beautiful in Steve Parkey. He morphed from brown to golden and glittered in our eyes.

 

Under Hall’s tutelage I learned how to silkscreen, solder, and edit video. She fed us a steady diet of new techniques and mind-contorting design prompts. Each person’s solution was cause for celebration in Hall’s studio, and I saw her greatest creative work in those moments.

 

When I reflect on my years in the profession, everything links back to my days with Hall. I teach the same topics, I occasionally wear chic French clothes, etc.—but her imprint is most evident in my relationships with students. I’ve been proud to send students to USC Film School or see them launch creative careers. However, it’s those whose artistic brilliance may be less evident, those who land in careers far afield of what they’ve done in my classes that call me to teach each day. They keep in touch, reminding me that I’ve glimpsed the golden in them, and that is divine.