Q&A with the artists of MASKED

An Exhibition by William Doan, Michael Green, and Emily Steinberg

Illustrated headshots of the artists side-by-side with the title MASKED at the top
Artwork above by Emily Steinberg

 

Borland Project Space | 125 Borland Building, Penn State University Park
January 12 – March 2, 2022 | 9 a.m. – 4 p.m. Monday through Friday
Masked Exhibition Artists’ Talk: https://bit.ly/3suSHDK
February 25 from 4 – 5 p.m.

How and when did you conceive of the Masked Exhibition and how did it all come together?

Emily Steinberg: During the Pandemic Year of 2021, Bill, Michael and I were zooming on a regular basis. We did this to stay creatively and socially connected during the time of lockdown and isolation. We spoke about a lot of things during this time, and one of them… was collaborating on an exhibition together around the idea of masking. What is masking? What has our experience been like during the lockdown. What are the issues of identity and presentation around masking. What are the historical and art historical precedents of masking. Picasso’s Demoiselles D’Avignon, 1907, comes to mind.

William Doan: I think it was during a catch-up zoom early in 2021 and we were chatting about possible collaborations. We discovered that we were all interested in masks/masking for a variety of reasons. Emily was already making work about masking, Michael’s take as a physician was interesting and personal, and I have always been fascinated by “masking” writ large as a theatre artist. We started sharing work and Michael investigated the possibility of showing the work at Hershey Medical and we were off and running.

Michael Green: As Emily and Bill said, we had been zooming for a while to stay connected, and during one of our brainstorming sessions, we decided to explore the theme of masking as something that was on everyone’s mind, but that probably meant something different to each person. Since each of us comes from different backgrounds, we thought it would be fruitful to respond to this simple prompt in our own way, and the exhibit evolved from there.

Illustrations of people wearing different types of masks with witty descriptions of appropriate activities when wearing each style
Artwork above by Emily Steinberg

 

What surprised you and/or what did you learn when you were creating the work for this exhibition?

Emily Steinberg: I loved the idea of blowing up drawings and printing them on vinyl.

William Doan: What surprised me was how differently we all thought about masking, yet our mutual interest in graphic medicine, comics, graphic narrative seemed to tie it all together. I learned that I’m really inspired by Emily and Michael’s work and want to keep finding ways to collaborate with them.

Michael Green: I was surprised by how scale changed an image. Most of my original work was done in small and inexpensive composition notebooks, 7.5″x9.75″. Seeing these images enlarged to 4 ft x 5 ft in size changed so much about the images, in terms of impact, meaning, and the feelings they elicited. Also, seeing the various pieces juxtaposed with one another was really interesting, because each of us see differently and express our visions in unique ways.

Illustrations of various kinds of masking on the left with a list of what masks do and don't do on the right
Artwork above by Michael Green

 

How has your perception changed since you first conceived of this exhibition; what does this work mean and represent to you now?

Emily Steinberg: This work represents a specific period in time for me. A time of vast uncertainty, of fear, anxiety, of trying to figure out how to maneuver within new constraints.

William Doan: I’d say my interest and thinking around the complex notion of masking has deepened. Teaching wearing a mask, trying to perform wearing a mask, trying to conceive of mask-wearing and Covid-like pandemics being part of life from now on, weigh heavily on my mind. And those thoughts feed the continued work I’m doing in the mental health space, thoughts about masking anxiety and depression, hiding and protecting the self, and the historical power of masking.

Michael Green: Masks have taken on meaning so much greater than originally intended in the medical context. Medical professionals tended to see them in terms of public health and safety. But for so many people, these are statements about politics, identity, and affiliation. It’s strange and interesting, and also troubling in many ways.

If you were creating work for the exhibition today, what would you do differently?

Emily Steinberg: I would create a full-blown graphic narrative about the experience and present it as life size panels.

William Doan: I would love to scale up the size of the pandemic doctor masks I made and explore different ways of applying text to them.

Michael Green: I think I’d include more self-portraits with masks to see where that takes me.

black plague mask with hands and text drawn on
Artwork above by William Doan

 

What comes to mind around this topic of masking when you think about the future?

Emily Steinberg: I don’t want to think about masks anymore, LOL.

William Doan: I keep thinking about how regular masking in public will exponentially lower the number of people who know what I look like. And how this might feed social media as the location where you try to connect the masked face you encounter out in the world with the whole face of that person …

Michael Green: I look forward to a time when a mask is just a mask and no longer a statement about one’s politics or identity. I don’t know if we’ll ever get there, but I can hope ….

View larger images and the full exhibition at Masked online: https://spark.adobe.com/page/cevVdvRawvSZr/

The COVID-19 Pandemic: Stories from Nurses on the Frontline

By Kiernan Riley, BSN, RN
PhD Student, University Fellow, Penn State College of Nursing
Graduate Research Assistant, Nurses’ Stories of the COVID-19 Pandemic: A Qualitative Study

Black and white drawing of two hands holding another hand between them with title The Art and Science of Nursing

When I first heard of COVID-19, as a nurse working in the field, I felt like I became the go-to person for information and knowledge among family and friends. However, for the first time, I didn’t know the answers OR where to find them. As days became more and more unclear, instructions began to change, and work places became near frantic. The reality of the virus set in, and nursing (like the rest of the world) was changed forever. I was working as a home health and hospice nurse at the turn of COVID-19 in 2020. Leaving the house suddenly felt like a death threat; yet, we were asked to enter the homes of others and provide care for them. How do you provide quality care when you’re scared for your own health? Drives to work became eerily empty, and every day seemed overcast regardless of weather.

As a hospice nurse, I saw that every death was impacted by COVID-19, whether the virus was present or not. Funerals stopped. Family couldn’t visit. Often times, it felt like nurses were one of the few with the opportunity to bear witness. To complicate the processing of already difficult emotions, there was the immense guilt. I constantly thought,  “I am a nurse, and yet I am not doing enough.” Watching the suffering of hospital nurses in major cities internationally, and working humbly as a rural hospice nurse, I couldn’t see the work I was doing as important. Through all this, phrases such as “unprecedented times” and “healthcare heroes” were being tossed around. Phrases that made me personally feel deep resentment for the people that created them. What did the “hero” sentiment mean for people who were scared to step out of the front door, into patients’ rooms, and do their jobs?  At the time, I certainly didn’t feel like one.

Now, a year later, I feel braver and more resolute in my abilities as a nurse and as a caregiver. I see myself and my fellow nurses, even in my rural area, as heroes. My guilt has faded, and I feel proud I was able to help where I was at the time. As patients, interactions, and jobs slowly return to normal, and vaccinations are readily available in the United States, I have found myself feeling overwhelming pride for the entire nursing profession.

That’s my story as a nurse in the COVID-19 pandemic. But what about other nurses, those working directly in COVID units and truly on the frontlines, that continue to this day? Who are the people behind the term “heroes”, and how have they been dealing with COVID-19 both professionally and personally?

Using stories as a basis for exploration, a team of researchers from both the College of Nursing and the Arts and Design Research Incubator at Penn State hope to dive into the experiences of nurses working the frontlines during the COVID-19 pandemic. Nurses’ Stories of the COVID-19 Pandemic: A Qualitative Study is a pilot study in which frontline nurses will share their stories of working during the pandemic, and the impact this work has had on their professional and personal well-being. Through this work, a team of researchers will 1) explore the experiences of frontline nursing staff during the COVID-19 pandemic and 2) explore the feasibility, acceptability, and perceived efficacy of storytelling with frontline nurses as both a qualitative methodology and therapeutic group process for nursing staff.

Stories can serve as the medium to further connect to frontline workers as well as to gain an understanding of their experiences, encouraging smart and connected health. Findings will provide foundational data for a larger study that will inform 1) the preliminary development of strategies to support the well-being and effectiveness of nurses during emergency/disaster situations, 2) the effectiveness of storytelling as a therapeutic benefit and as a methodology to collect data, and 3) pedagogical approaches to prepare prelicensure nursing students for these situations.

Preliminary stories gathered during the pilot have revealed moments of despair, trauma, hope, and resilience among nurses. These stories have been compelling, thought-provoking, and awe-inspiring. The team looks forward to sharing the stories of nurses with the public.

Black and white illustration of people sitting in chairs in a circleThis research has been graciously funded by the Arts and Design Research Incubator (ADRI) at The Pennsylvania State University and is a collaborative effort between Dr. Michael Evans, Assistant Dean for Nursing Education at the Commonwealth Campuses, and Dr. Bill Doan, Professor and Director of the ADRI, along with funded graduate research assistants, Kiernan Riley and Kalei Kowalchick, BSN-PhD Students, and funded undergraduate research assistant, Logan Desanto, Junior Honor’s Nursing Student at the Scranton Campus.

 

Self-Care vs. Self-Respect: Insights from an Evening with Kimberly Dark

By Katelyn Quick
Assistant Director, Penn State Student Affairs Health Promotion and Wellness

Headshot of Katelyn Quick in black blazer with gray background

When I planned to have Kimberly Dark perform “You Don’t Owe Anyone Pretty” for Eating Disorders Awareness Week this year, I knew I was in for a great show that would get me thinking about how appearance and identity tie into systems of oppression. She did not disappoint, and I’d like to share the inspiration with you. Let’s begin with you conjuring up a few images in your mind. When you read the following identities, just imagine that person standing in front of you.

  • Yoga instructor
  • Rock climber
  • Dancer

Were any of these people standing in front of you fat or old?

Now, read a quote from Kimberly Dark:
“The fat middle-aged lady is not supposed to be the fitness instructor or the yoga instructor or the rock climber or the disco dancer. The fat middle-aged lady is not supposed to be physical or respectable in any way.” And then she said something profound; “I am respectable.”  Wow. Mic Drop.

So, I found myself thinking about how categorizing others comes all too naturally. Of course, as a professional who works in the eating disorders field, I’d decided to drop my judgments about others’ bodies long ago. I know that appearance has absolutely nothing to do with health or happiness. But what really hit me about that statement was that Kimberly Dark believes, deep in her core, that she is respectable. She doesn’t need me or anyone else to tell her that. Despite the ways she describes not fitting into society’s ideal identity for women, she believes it in her core. And that, in itself, triggered a sense of reverence. “How beautiful,” I thought.

I teach my clients about body acceptance and self-care every day, which I’m really good at doing! Most females have had to confront body image issues at some point, myself included. I believe these specific challenges taught me to have empathy for my clients. But truthfully, self-care has never been a challenge because it came so intuitively. For me, cooking is easy; yoga is fun; bubble baths feel good. It’s natural for me to encourage my clients to explore what activities work for them.

However, this idea of developing respect at the core had me digging a little deeper. I still have my own struggles with acceptance from others, and frequently find myself considering, “What does this person want from me?” or “How can I make this situation more comfortable for them?” or “What is the right way to show up in that space?” Could the answers to these questions hurt me? Absolutely. The reason Kimberly’s core of respect was striking is because I still need to cultivate that in myself.

Kimberly said, “If we want kids to grow up and take responsibility for their words and actions, then it’s time we adults do more of it ourselves.” Body acceptance and self-care was a good start for me, but I’ll be working on developing respect at my core, both for my clients and for myself.

We each have our own internal power, and we decide how to use it.

 

National Eating Disorders Awareness Week events took place February 22 – 28, 2021. This year’s theme is Every Body Has a Seat at the Table, which was created by the National Eating Disorder Association (NEDA). The theme captures the importance of generating conversations to raise awareness, challenge systemic biases, and share stories from all backgrounds and experiences, especially stories from marginalized communities. The Arts & Design Research Incubator and Student Affairs Health Promotion and Wellness partnered to host guest artist Kimberly Dark. This event was funded by the Laura R. Whitaker Fund.

A Tale of Two Exhibits …

by William Doan
ADRI Director, professor of theatre, 2019-20 Penn State Laureate

When I started The Anxiety Project almost five years ago, it was never my intention to exhibit the drawings in any other way than as part of a performance. In my mind, I wasn’t so much making art, as using drawing to try and express what I seemed to fail to express to others with words alone. (I know that sounds a lot like making art… But for reasons those living with anxiety and depression will understand, the idea of making art is too intimidating to have as an intent). I was coming to grips with the fact that I’ve lived with anxiety and depression most of my life and have, more often than not, let them take the lead in how I moved through the world. Anxiety and depression were essentially in the driver’s seat and I was just along for the ride. The drawings help. Drawing every day helps. Drawing as a regular part of my meditation practice helps. I even integrated drawing into my therapy, often sharing them with my therapist and discovering how much meaning they contained for me.

drawings hanging on a blue wall in exhibition
photo by Ashleigh Longtine

As I started to develop performances and presentations around the drawings, they became integral parts of my story and I loved projecting them as big as possible, depending on the venue. They were/are my scenery, sometimes even my props. So when people talked about the drawings and how the drawings affected them, or how they wanted more time with them than the performance allowed, I was always a little surprised. I didn’t have much confidence in them as stand-alone drawings, or as drawings one might go to experience in an exhibition.

But here we are. Two exhibitions of work from my Anxiety Project happening in 2021:

HUB-Robeson Center, University Park
HUB Gallery & Online
The Anxiety Project
January 16-March 14

Bellefonte Art Museum for Centre County
Paulette Lorraine Berner Community Gallery (Second Floor)
Selections from The Anxiety Project
January 31 – February 28
Friday, Saturday, & Sunday 12-4:30

Both exhibitions include drawings from the project’s performances, as well as pages from the most recent part of the project, a visual narrative, Inside Anxiety and Depression – very much a work in progress. The HUB Gallery exhibition will also include our short animated film, Inhale, Exhale, Draw.

Drawings by Bill Doan Hanging on the walls of HUB Gallery
photo by Ashleigh Longtine

The work in the project is very personal. But it also seeks to make meaning out of the fact that anxiety and depression are pervasive in the archives of human experience. And it seems this is true for biochemical and social reasons. I’m eager to experience the drawings in this context, despite how risky it feels to have them stand on their own outside performance. I hope others will discover something in them that speaks to them and helps shed some light on their own experience or that of someone they love.

The HUB Gallery online exhibition is currently open for viewing.

two walls of Bill Doan's drawings in HUB-Robeson Gallery
View a 360° photo of The Anxiety Project Exhibition at HUB-Robeson Galleries.

PSU Ceramics and Social Action: Inaugural Bowled Over Initiative Launching to Address Food Insecurity

By Kris Grey, Visiting Artist and Assistant Teaching Professor, Penn State School of Visual Arts | with contributions from the Bowled Over student and faculty team

Poster/flyer for Bowled Over project with yellow checkered background featuring a tatooed arm with hand holding white ceramic bowl with blue decals filled with what looks like chocolate ice cream and another hand above holding a white ladle pouring what looks like marshmellow sauce with blue sprinkles onto the ice cream with some splashing out of the bowl. Text says Includes custom wooden box and stickers! Proceeds benefit clay coven at psi and The Lion’s Pantry. Bowls available for purchase online on Friday November 13th 2020 at www.claycoven.com

In January of 2020, the clay c0ven, PSU Ceramics department student club, hosted its second annual Clay Café at the Borland Project Space. Students transformed the gallery space into a meeting place fully stocked with handmade clay objects of every variation and function with a robust calendar of programming to entice participants. Warm and cool beverages were offered to the public for free and visitors were encouraged to use the handmade ceramic objects crafted by PSU undergraduate and graduate students.

Sandwich board saying Grab a cup and use a cup with four-shelf ladder style book case in background lined with ceramic objects

This is one in a long line of student-led community engagements projects, addressing issues of sustainability and the role of art in advancing social and ecological justice, that the ceramics department at PSU has initiated. Conversations during that week around food insecurity and sustainability efforts inspired students and faculty to go deeper with their activism.

According to a 2017 Feeding America survey, 13% of Centre County residents experience food insecurity, close to 21,000 people total.

Following the Clay Café, a new collaborative project playfully called Bowled Over started to take shape. Bowled Over is a social engagement project in collaboration with the SoVA ceramics area, the student-run club – the clay c0ven, and the support of Arts & Design Research Incubator at Penn State University. This is in line with Penn State’s broader “tackle hunger” initiative to address food insecurity across the commonwealth campuses.

Students designed and produced a limited edition series of handmade ceramic bowls for this project. Originally, plans were made to sell the bowls at a special event. Due to COVID-19 limitations, the bowls are available for purchase online this fall. Proceeds from Bowled Over will benefit The Lion’s Pantry and the clay c0ven.

Five white ceramic bows with blue decals on a white background with one bowl upside-down in the center Close up of the blue serpant, sun, moon, rain, and umbrella decal on a white ceramic bowl

This presented an actionable way for students to participate in the “tackle hunger” initiative addressing food insecurity among the Penn State commonwealth campuses. The pilot of the program was set to run this fall in conjunction with World Food Day on October 16th. Students and faculty in ceramics set our sights on bowl production for the summer of 2020.

Two months later, our worlds were thrown into chaos by the advent of COVID-19. The University Park campus entered lockdown. Students and faculty were ejected from our research and work spaces on campus and everyone braced for the terrifying unknown. In spite of a global pandemic, our student artists did what artists everywhere tend to do — showcase resilience and rise up to meet the challenges! Undergraduate and graduate students, Anna Graef and Andrew Castañeda, transformed a home garage into an offsite ceramic studio and began production for Bowled Over in the summer of 2020.

Rows of ceramic bowls of different shapes and sizes with two students making final touches during glazing process

This fall, when we were able to safely return to campus, the fragile, unfired bowls were transferred back to the ceramic studio where they could be glazed, fired, and finished.

Four shelves lined with glazed ceramic bowls of different shapes and sizes prior to firing Four shelves lined with white ceramic bowls of different shapes and sizes after firing

Second-year graduate student, Audrey An, designed a series of interchangeable decals based on drawings and images produced by ceramic students. Incoming grad, Harrison Boden, helped glaze and apply decals to the surface of the bowls and second-year grad, Austin Bradshaw, designed and milled custom wood boxes to house each of the unique pieces.

The result is a limited edition run of handmade ceramic bowls available now for purchase on https://clayc0ven.com/ where you can also view images from Clay Café 2020 and the 2016 Hand Candy: A Ceramic Lending Library.

White ceramic bowl with blue lettering Penn State Ceramics Lion Pantry with parts of the wooden container box on a white background

The Bowled Over Experience: Quotes from Students and Faculty

Shannon Goff, Associate Professor of Art
“Penn State Ceramics likes to lead with generosity, and so naturally giving back is forever on my mind. One sunny sabbatical afternoon in late January, a vision of clarity nearly bowled me over. A holistic cross college collaboration where ceramics students would design and fabricate handmade bowls filled with a limited edition flavor from the Creamery using herbs grown at the student farm. Proceeds from the initiative would support both the lion pantry and the ceramics area. This effort seemed in line with the work Kris Grey and I were already doing with the students to support Andy Goldworthy’s Red Flags project in NYC’s Rockefeller Center. Despite our excitement and commitment to what was becoming Bowled Over, we never could have expected a global pandemic. We weren’t willing to give up but scaled back due to Covid-19. Bowled Over is akin to an antidote for the coronavirus. It has been a joy to witness how the process has emboldened and bonded the students. We foresee Bowled Over growing and changing based on student’s interest in cross collaboration across the University and local area. We look forward to in-person events and scaling the project up to create even more community connectivity, engagement, and an even greater contribution to ending food insecurity in the region, all while making art accessible.”

Kris Grey, Visiting Artist and Assistant Teaching Professor
“Bowled Over has been a galvanising force; It’s helped us come together for collaboration and community building during very uncertain times. It’s given us a way to be productive and proactive locally. I feel incredibly lucky to be here with this amazing group of students and faculty who are making change tangible through art.”

Side shot of white ceramic bowl with blue decal of ice cream in a bowl with parts of the wooden container box on a white background

Andrew Castañeda, Instructor of Art; MFA 2020
“When I was approached to help with the Bowled Over project, the corona virus disaster was unfolding everywhere. It seemed like there was no escape from the monotony of quarantine. When Kris and Shannon proposed that Anna and I throw bowls for this community event, it was a way to give back and break the deadly cycle of watching YouTube all day. The process of making bowls is intimate, it is a dance. The clay moves, you react, and at some point you end the dance, stop and start again. The handmade bowls borne of this repetitious and meditative throwing process will go beyond helping my soul heal, and help our entire community.”

three students, two wearing masks and one with back toward camera, lining up newly created ceramic bowls

Anna Graef, BFA
“Working as a part of the Bowled Over team these past few months has been a source of relief and provided a sense of purpose for me. Shannon and Kris’s news of funding for this community engagement project coincided with coronavirus exploding, campus shutting down, our studio access ending, and a lot of uncertainty, specifically uncertainty regarding how to proceed as a ceramics student with no access to the ceramic studio facilities.

“Throwing bowls for this community engagement project gave Andrew and me reason to set up our own makeshift garage studio space, and reason to return to clay for a cause. The repetition of throwing so many similar, though not identical, bowls was an interesting parallel to the repetitive general monotony of quarantine life. Knowing that the bowls were destined to help our community, though, helped to make our bowl production feel more meditative and productive than monotonous or taxing.”

Animated gif of student making a bowl on the pottery wheel in her garage studio with car in background

Austin Bradshaw, MFA
“As an artist, we wear many different hats but by far the most important one is how we give back to the communities around us. Working on the Bowled Over project has been a truly humbling experience and I’m truly grateful to be a part of something much larger than myself.”

Overhead shot of white ceramic bowl with smal blue heart decals packed in the custom wooden box Six white ceramic bowls with blue decals on the left and one white creamic bowl with blue decal of ice cream in a bowl sitting on top of the wooden box on the right, white background

Audrey An, MFA
“The Bowled Over project offered another creative outlet for all of us. We all collaborated during each stage of making these bowls and offered individual creative assets we have other than our primary medium, ceramics. We have a wonderful group of artists who are all willing to give and serve one another. I always learn from my cohorts and am grateful for them both inside and outside of our studio time.

“One of my favorite parts during the production was the photo shoot we did together for the Bowled Over poster. We substituted real ice cream and syrup for terra cotta clay and white glaze so the ice cream would not melt but also to shout more of our love for clay. And a little bias involved, but I think the photos came out super fun! I enjoyed getting these photos from our photographer, Andrew, before finalizing the poster.”

Close-up of a persons arms and hands cutting sheets of blue decals with a pair of scissors in a ceramics studio Over the shoulder shot of red haired woman wearing mask and cutting out decals from a sheet in a ceramics studio

Harrison Boden, MFA
“For many of us as ceramics artists, we feel an overwhelming sense of community in how we interact with our peers. This project not only gave us the opportunity to become a stronger cohort, but also allowed us to use our abilities to serve those who are in need. I am so pleased, personally, that I was given the opportunity to help others move forward in their lives and look forward to future opportunities of service.”

Over the shoulder shot of hands placing the blue decal of ice cream in a bowl onto the white ceramic bowl

Images courtesy Andrew Castañeda

 

Being Here and Queer in your 30s – Contributed by J. Austin Eyer

By J. Austin Eyer
Assistant Teaching Professor – School of Theatre

When I moved from New York to State College as a single gay man back in 2014, the first thing most dates would ask me was, “Why would you move here from New York City?”  The answer: A good job, and I wanted to escape the pressures of the city. Happy Valley was a great place for that. I certainly missed my queer community of friends, but I hoped that I would find a new community of queer colleagues. And while I made some lasting friendships here, what I found was that very few queer people stay in State College. Case in point, I am moving later this month to Dallas, Texas.

Simply put, there tend to be four types of people in the queer community here, undergrads, grad students, locals, and Penn State faculty/staff. I made the most friends in the grad student category. This may have been because of my age (I was 32 when I moved here) and the amount of time I spent on campus. But the hard thing about having friends who are students was, each year you lost one or two close friends when they graduated and headed off to their next chapter. When that kept happening, over and over, it made me less willing to build meaningful relationships with people I knew would be leaving soon. I also had a couple of local friends, but they too seemed to be striving to leave or follow a dream to a larger city. I think the most disappointing thing was the lack of queer friendships I had with other Penn State faculty and staff. It wasn’t that we didn’t try, but often academic calendars got in the way (I rarely saw anyone in the months of November or April). And there was always the chance that we simply didn’t click as friends, or maybe they had a partner (or kids) and just didn’t have the time for new friends. It felt that State College was not built for lasting gay friendships. Looking back, I wish I would have advocated for events or programming to bring these four factions of the queer community together.

In most towns gay bars and clubs tend to be a great catalyst for queer mingling. Or an event at a local queer bookstore, or LGBTQA+ community center might give people a place to go where they can feel safe while socializing. I feel like these physical spaces are missing in State College. At the moment, Chumley’s is the only bar or space that is solely dedicated to the queer community (who aren’t PSU students). With that said, I do think it’s important to note the work that Webster’s, AIDS Resource, and the Center for Sexual and Gender diversity do for our community by providing us queer-friendly spaces. My only request is that we keep asking for MORE queer events, and more queer spaces. State College apparently had more than just one queer space in the past. But now Chumley’s is the only place where I know I can hold my boyfriend’s hand or kiss him while having a drink, and still feel safe. The best thing about Chumley’s is, it is rarely crowded. The two main bartenders will learn your face, and they have always been friendly to me. However, questions about this space being friendly to the Trans community surfaced in 2018, which shifted my full support. This space should be more than another State College bar. It has the potential to bring together the LGBTQA+ community socially. Maybe events, programming, or face-to-face dialogue (post Covid) would be a way to revive the trust that Chumley’s (our only queer community space) is welcoming to ALL in the community. I want to make sure that we maintain a space where we can sit with our dates, friends, and partners and not have to worry about stares or slurs.

Though Penn State continues to receive high rankings for being LGBTQA+ friendly, I have not felt that same sense of safety or belonging here. I have had numerous times that “faggot” has been yelled or casually said to me by undergraduates, while walking downtown. Just last year, for the second time, I had an older man yell “faggot” at me while riding his bike past my house in Houserville. I was just standing there?! I wasn’t waving a big flag or even standing there with my boyfriend.  Football season only exacerbates my anxiety and sense of not feeling welcome. I have actively avoided walking through tailgate locations, and in general, large groups of straight men (no matter how old they are) still terrify me. When you add alcohol and the electricity of game day, it becomes too much for me, I just stay home. I believe this comes from my experiences growing up in the south, where it wasn’t safe to be “out” about your sexuality unless you were in a performing arts space. Retreating and avoidance is how I cope with triggering situations. In Happy Valley, game weekends, drinking holidays, and most Saturday nights downtown are all a perfect storm for feeling unsafe in my own town. This is how I feel, but I know that maybe other people in the queer community might feel perfectly safe and accepted here, especially if they can actively prescribe to presenting as “straight.” But I can’t imagine being a queer or Trans person of color in this town, and feeling any sense of comfort. I know how alone I have felt over the past few years, and I would love to know that others in the State College queer community won’t have to feel that in the years to come. I think active and consistent community building is the answer.

One community that is leading by example is the drag community. Opulence (Penn State’s Drag Ambassadors) holds meetings, parties and PACKED drag shows each year. They have contributed greatly to the drag scene in State College. Local support from places like Chronic Town, Cafe 210, Webster’s, and The Arena show that we do have spaces willing to host our events.

How can State College engage the queer community, and bring unity (or at the very least dialogue) that helps every queer person know they have support here? I think the efforts made by the State College Borough Council (pushed by the incredible Dan Murphy) and Centre LGBTQA (which I am somehow just learning about) are making a visible impact on Happy Valley. It gave me a feeling of pride to see all of the rainbow flags throughout downtown, and last year’s rainbow crosswalks made a huge visual impact. I was beyond excited to hear about State College’s first Pride Parade in 2020 (and then VERY bummed that it had to be cancelled). I also admire the work and support that Brian Patchcoski, Sonya Wilmoth, and Stephanie Whitesell have provided me as a faculty member over the years, funding events and guests I have hosted on campus. I hope that these groups will continue to fight for visibility and meaningful impact on the State College queer community, and this means reaching out to people who aren’t just students at Penn State.

I am leaving Penn State with a lot of good memories, friendships and learning experiences. I hope that this peak inside life as a 30-something queer in State College helps spark the idea that now is a great time to brainstorm ways for queer faculty, graduate students, locals, and undergraduates to come together as a full community. We need to educate ourselves, support ourselves, and protect ourselves. We need constant visual reminders that we are not alone. And even though we may not end up creating lasting friendships, we should know each other’s names, and be fiercely protective of EVERYONE in our community. We must hold ourselves accountable. We should still make time for each other, even though time is limited. I feel this is the best way to make Happy Valley a place where queer people want to come AND STAY.

How COVID-19 opened time and space for interdisciplinary collaboration – Contributed by Charlene Gross

by Charlene Gross
Assistant Professor of Costume Design, Penn State School of Theatre

If this year were like any of my past 20 years, this weekend would mark my third opening night of the summer season. Damn Yankees, which would open this week at the 2020 Ohio Light Opera, is a production that will never be. Theatrical designers, performers, directors, stage managers, technicians work all the time. We work as a team. For most of us, the summer is a busy season when our audiences attend festivals across the country.

Black and white sketch of two men wearing Yankees baseball uniforms
Damn Yankees Costume Sketch for Ohio Light Opera’s cancelled 2020 Season

Perhaps some of you will agree with me regardless your discipline. It is not the social isolation which is so strange; it is the abrupt appearance of weeks without any production demands. And with those lost demands, a gnawing need to work. Stay sharp. Participate in producing something.

What am I to do with all this time? With all my skills? How do I help my community? What do I have to offer?

I’m a costume designer. I design and make real clothing for imaginary people. Before arriving at Penn State, I was known as a go-to person to collaborate on complicated costumes. I have enjoyed building costumes with special effects, and costumes which could survive punishing production demands and dance movements at the extremes of human flexibility, all in the service of a larger team.

Theatre is all about collaboration, but suddenly being forced to pause from constant production, I realized my collaborators reached far beyond the stage. I’ve worked on and designed over 200 shows, but I’ve also collaborated with visual artists on installation pieces. I designed outfits for use in the Joshua Tree National Forest designed to survive rattlesnake bites to shins and arms. I designed light weight clothing with ice packs built in for endurance athletes. I worked with PhD chemists setting up fake crime scenes for CSI students’ final exams (a good workout for special effect makeup skills)! I consulted with a public defender office on clothing choices for clients facing trial, developed comprehensive SfX scars that reproduce the effects on the body of surviving an F3 tornado, and worked with industrial companies on best choices in uniforms for ergonomics and chemical handling safety at EPA Superfund sites. I contemplated how many odd ways I have shared my skills, built over my career in costume design, with the world outside of costume design.

So as Covid-19 hit, and every one of my upcoming theatre, dance and opera shows were cancelled, I looked around to see how my skills could help.

Of course I can sew. That’s easy for me. And cloth masks? Well, there was debate of their usefulness for the first 2+ weeks but I knew something was better than nothing, so I began to sew. Requests first came from friends and family. Then members of my own department at Penn State. Then multiple departments. Eventually from across the entire University.

I like to organize people. We had a lot of scrap material in the PSU costume stock. I organized our graduate costume students and costume staff into mask making teams. We have now produced over 3000 masks and organized distribution to dozens of business units at Penn State, and dozens of community organizations across the state and region.

I did what any good theatre person does—I figured out how to solve a series of problems. I budgeted time and money. I used my limited resources. I phoned friends. I got great advice.

A young boy in a red sweatshirt and a woman with glasses and brown hair in workshop counting cloth protective face masks. Boy is looking ito camera.
My son and I count masks into piles of 10s, and then count by 10s to make bags of 100 masks for distribution. Remote learning at its best!
A young boy in a red sweatshirt and a woman with glasses and brown hair in workshop counting cloth protective face masks.
(They were sterilized before they went out to the campuses by EHS. I swear!)

As I reached out, expanding the network of who we helped, and who helped us, I met the amazing group at the Manufacturing and Sterilization for COVID-19 (or MASC). They were taking on problems as they arose across the state and region. I offered my expertise.

I was asked if it was possible to use construction Tyvek to make respirator hoods. They had one example of a commercial hood. They potentially needed hundreds of them. I told them I had a friend and former student who had built the costumes out of Tyvek at Santa Fe Opera. So, I did what I do with a tricky costume problem; I called a friend (Ashley Bellet) to get her insight on best practices for sewing Tyvek.

Four images: On left is man wearing Tyvek hood with face shield, demonstrating fit by facing camera and in left and right profile view; Right side shows parts of Tyvek hood and face shield on a white table with a ruler
My husband (Stephen Spoonamore) modeling the Tyvek hood for fit. The hood disassembled.

I was asked to figure out how to help a headband to stay on the head properly, and provided headband input for a 3D printed face shield.

I was then tasked to develop a flat pattern, both digital and paper, for a Level III surgical gown for Susan Purdum. I did it with my graduate student, Alyssa Ridder over Zoom, working methodically through the measurements of a gown that took up half of my living room floor.

Charlene Gross sitting on floor smiling into camera holding a legal pad and working with Alyssa Ridder who appears on screen of the laptop on step stool beside her
Alyssa Ridder MFA Candidate ’21 on screen and Charlene on the floor patterning the surgical gown in paper and digitally

Then an email popped up asking if I knew of someone in theatre who works with makeup. I’d be the person. I teach stage makeup for School of Theatre every semester. The question of how to remove makeup from the now highly valued N95 masks they were sterilizing for reuse came up. Well, I can remove makeup from most fabrics, but the N95 mask is a highly oleophilic fiber which binds the oils from the skin and makeup doesn’t release oils. I offered to try if they sent me a few masks, suggested possibly an industrial surfactant would work, but the easiest solution in my mind? Ask the wearers to not wear makeup. Touchy, I know (I work with performers!) but it may be worth asking to see if that helps with some of the issues. Guess what the solution was?

Let me pause here and say, for my first two and half years at PSU, I’ve worked with amazing colleagues. Best in the field of theatre. But to do things which are truly interdisciplinary, while theoretically encouraged, is really hard given the demand on all of our time. Between course loads, production loads, mentoring student designers, designing shows myself, outside creative research, recruiting… there is little time to work on other things. Let alone find others in the University who want to do the same. The first three years have been about navigating Penn State and demands of my day-to-day academic job.

Suddenly, with performance production stopped, and having fortuitously found the MASC team I was working among 300+ engineers, surgeons, epidemiologists, materials scientists, airflow engineers, proto-typers, business procurement experts and 3D printing technicians with amazing skills, many of which were completely outside of my prior experience.

But my skills were completely outside of theirs, and much needed to meet several of their goals.

Now I have become part of this astounding group of problem solvers. I read our daily MASC reports on innovations in testing, containment, process and treatment, and marvel at how many people with novel skills have contributed.

I hope someday soon to once again be designing real clothes to put on imaginary people in the theatre, but in the meantime I am continuing to expand my skills, and, I believe, expand to many other people how valuable the thinking and process of theatrical design can be, when applied to many other demanding tasks. I have met some amazing people during this process, and was deeply honored, even embarrassed, when my colleagues awarded me one of the MASCed Marvel Awards for our COVID response. They cited my unique contributions to developing protective clothing and organizing cloth masks when supplies were extremely difficult to find. I am personally humbled, but extremely proud I was able to represent our Theatre and Performance community to the larger world in this way.

We are Theatre people. This is what we do.

Stay Safe.  Wear a Mask*.  We will get through this.

A selection of protective cloth face masks hanging from a horizontal wooden beam, a saw horse, and a poster board in Charlene's driveway
Mask contactless pick up/ drop off point at my house on a particular busy day.

*If you don’t have one, send me an email and I’ll make sure you have one or 25 within 24 hours.

 

Statement from Cheryl McLean as ADRI Advisory Committee Member

By Cheryl McLean
Independent Scholar, Writer, Ethnodramatist

Today all of us are experiencing the once in a century impacts of a world-wide pandemic, Black Lives Matter and national and international protests are beginning to lead the way toward real systemic change. Elder Lives Matter has yet to find its momentum or its movement but desperately needs new voices and visibility considering the isolation and marginalization of the aged, discrimination, the desperate state of elder care issues around quality of life/human rights and dignity, unresolved family grief and loss. And today the effects of stress, fear, illness, chaos and societal instability on mental health have been overwhelming and there are critical needs for education and programming as well as greater understanding about the importance of mental health today and on into the future.

I believe in the talent you have brought together at ADRI and it’s inspiring for me to know everyone I met at that first [advisory committee] meeting brings something vital and important to the table at this historic time when the needs are so great. What incredible collaborative creative potential there is in this group for the arts in action, for education and for profiling new research as well as for awareness raising and fostering hope through arts in many forms leading to social change.

Read more from Cheryl at her Art in Pandemic blog:
http://www.artinpandemic.com/blog

Mind Your Mask – Contributed by Ryan Russell

by Ryan Russell
associate professor of graphic design at Penn State

Mind Your Mask

The design community at PSU never ceases to amaze me. Once again, it is outdoing itself. Colleagues from across the University leapt into action on day 1. My inbox was flooded with proposals, questions, all trying to figure out how to make use of resources and talents to solve the incredibly complex problems from the pandemic. Many were specific to the materials and production methods necessary to create masks.

How could I help? As a graphic designer what could I offer? Could I create something that could communicate and help drive healthier behavior?

My Solution

These masks use typography and scale to encourage social distance (6′ has been the recommended distance by the CDC)1. The large text is legible at greater distances and communicate a hopeful feeling and outlook on the current pandemic. However, when a viewer breaks the social distance barrier (within 6′) the smaller text becomes legible (high contrast sans-serif text that is smaller than .24″ is generally illegible beyond 6′)2. The smaller text is less optimistic and more direct in its message to encourage a viewer to back up and adhere to the rules outlined above. In addition, The background graphics, while appearing as a simple texture are created from relevant icons that are legible within the danger zone.

These textiles will soon be available via spoonflower.com to those who also want to purchase fabrics to make and donate masks.

Protective face mask with large font saying We’re in this together and small font saying Not too close together otherwise more of us will die - printed on green fabric with a pattern of small white tombstonesgreen fabric with a pattern of small white tombstones

Protective face mask with large font saying Oh no, not I, I will survive, and small font saying You won’t. You definitely won’t. Printed on pink fabric with a pattern of white human skullspink fabric with a pattern of white human skulls

Protective face mask with large font saying Live long and prosper, and small font saying Get close and die. Printed on blue/purple fabric with a pattern of alternating hand gesturesblue/purple fabric with a pattern of alternating hand gestures

1 https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/prevent-getting-sick/social-distancing.html
2 https://www.thesignchef.com/letter-sizing-calculator

Draw It Out

I’ve been drawing as a form of meditation for quite some time. Actually, I’ve been drawing most of my life. But it was in the last couple of years that I became intentional about drawing as a tool for helping to manage my anxiety and depression. Like a number of art practices, drawing can have a calming and positive effect on the mind and body. There’s a significant body of research to support this claim. For some time, the most well known research centered on music’s ability to positively effect the brain, the breath, and one’s mental state. Now studies on dance, movement, drawing, creative writing, and other artistic practices show similar results. The arts are good for us. And though artists have known this forever, it regularly bears repeating in a world that tends to think more about the relationship between medicine and health than the relationship between art and health.

Quarantining during the Covid-19 pandemic has reinforced this idea in countless ways. It seems that each day begins with a series of questions that primarily produce anxiety – What am I going to do today? What should I do today? Will doing that make any difference? How do I face another zoom session? How can I help? Can I get 10,000 steps in by just walking around my house? What will I do if this is it? On and on and on and on …. until I have myself worked up and convinced that I simply can’t find a way to fit into this new world. I mean, it took decades for me to figure out how to fit into the old world! (All this happens between waking up, showering, and making the first cup of coffee). And then I head to my little home studio. And I draw. I sit, breathe, choose from among my various tools – pencils, pens, brushes, pastel sticks, watercolor crayons, and draw. Maybe it’s a “selfie” drawing, a farmscape, the idea for a comic, a new piece for the Anxiety Project, a leaf, a bird, a tree, or just a series of marks on the paper that are a record of the impulses moving through my hand. And I do this for at least 15 to 20 minutes.

And I’m better afterwards. Some days better than others. My heart rate is slower, my mind is calmer, I can remember to be grateful. Drawing brings me into the present, it draws me out of the trap of regretting the past or worrying too much about the future. Drawing is medicine for my mind and soul.

Hand made self-portrait drawing using pencil and ink wash. Example of meditation drawings.