Online workshops aim to make SCAD libraries more accessible

By Anna Geannopoulus

Beginning next week, the Jen Library will offer online workshops on time management, research survival and advanced research techniques through SCAD Connect. The goal is to help students harness the full power of the library’s resources. Because the classes are offered online, they are free to any SCAD student regardless of campus location or e-learning status.

To participate, students just need to navigate to the appropriate hyperlink, provided below, at the proper time.

“We really want to make the library’s resources accessible and easy to use.  We know that they can be confusing at first but we want people to know that we are here to help,” said Jen Library Resource Librarian, Heather Koopmans.

Despite being online, all three classes are set up in an interactive way.  Each class will have a person teaching on the other side of the web at the posted login times.

“There are lots of question and answer sections and some slides but it’s definitely not like an online PowerPoint. It is much more interactive,” explained Koopmans.

Workshop 1: Time Management, slated for 4 p.m. June 27, and 3 p.m. June 28, will help students who want to break out of the vicious cycle of procrastination.

Workshop 2: Research 101 provides an introductory course to the library’s many resources and search engines. Research 101 will be held July 11 at 1 p.m. and July 12 at 8 p.m.

Workshop 3: Advanced Research Techniques expands on Research 101 and helps students who are already familiar with these tools learn even more. The workshop will take place July 18 at 3 p.m., and July 19 at 8 p.m.

If workshop times conflict with a student’s schedule, the library staff is more than eager to help you succeed.  Contact Heather Koopmans for any questions or suggestions you may have.

Contact Anna Geannopoulos.

Rossellini encourages students to try everything

By Anna Geannopoulos

Multi-hyphenated artist Isabella Rossellini encouraged SCAD students to not just be, but also to “do.”

The actress-filmmaker-author-model held an open question-and-answer session May 28 at the Lucas Theatre before her turn as the commencement speaker on Saturday for the graduating seniors at both the Savannah and Atlanta campuses. Because of her varied experiences as a child of cinema as well as her jobs both in front of and behind the camera lens, Rossellini offered advice that bridged multiple disciplines.

Rossellini’s honeydew voice enveloped the ornate theater as she talked about her career and childhood.  The daughter of Hollywood legend Ingrid Bergman (“Casablanca”) and neorealist Italian film director Roberto Rossellini, the talented progeny was introduced first to American audiences as the face of Lancôme—a position she held for 14 years and that paved the way for more mature models in the industry.

Of her father, she said, “There was a very big debate about what was the core of cinema and if there was any responsibility for directors in the way the story was told.  If there was a moral obligation or not, should films be entertaining or should they be used for other purposes. That was the great debate.”

She explored this topic as well as what it was like to grow up around her father and other great directors of his time in a book and the film, “My Dad is 100 Years Old.”

Her American film debut came as Gregory Hines’ Soviet wife in “White Nights” (1985), but it was her turn as the tortured lounge singer in David Lynch’s “Blue Velvet” a year later that made her a household name. In the movie, many scenes depict sexual violence. While intense, she felt that a sense of safety was key to creating the best movie.

“The set was six or seven people, and you felt very protected,” she said of Lynch’s directing, “I think that by making you feel very protected and intimate you are able to free yourself and perform.”

Rossellini went on to establish a long career in film, television and print with the majority of that work blossoming outside of the Hollywood studio framework.

She spoke of experimental director Guy Maddin’s approach to filming. When they do a movie together, he explains it to her through his creative research.

“He shows me all the things that inspired him and I understand what he’s trying to get at,” Rossellini said. “It’s much better than just reading a script. But, you can’t say, ‘come to my house and I’ll show you my magazines’ [in traditional Hollywood] because people say. ‘I have to budget it, how do I budget this?’”

She counseled new directors to keep their budgets small for a larger slice of creative independence. “Try to keep them the cheapest.  More money means less freedom.  Less money means more freedom.”

She find the Internet an exciting forum for young filmmakers and artists everywhere, but stresses that somehow artist have to find a way to make a living from it.  Without some money coming back for their work, artists would have no way to finance and create new projects.

In her latest venture for the Sundance Channel—“Green Porno”—Rossellini attempts to tap into the Information Age.  In the series, she portrays animals and depicts their mating habits in humorous, but informative, two-minute videos. These shorts are designed for viewing on mobile devices.

“The attempt was to try to make films that were specific for the small screen,” Rossellini said, “So the small screen on the mobile dictated that they had to be very colorful, because when I try to watch something like Lawrence of Arabia, it doesn’t look like anything on my iPod.”

Rossellini strongly feels that the key to her longevity as an artist was that when given an opportunity to do something, she always took it.

“Even if you don’t know what you want to do with your life–just try something.  If it is not for you then maybe you will be exposed to something that is.”

She said that being an artist is not like becoming a doctor where everything is structured for the student.  In art, she said, you have to find your own voice and create your own style. For her, the best way to do this is expose yourself to everything. Any job or internship you get will teach you more about yourself and what you want to become.

“My magic word is ‘do,’” said Rossellini, “Take every opportunity you get. Things will shape up eventually.”

Contact Anna Geannopoulos.

Gullah Man weaves stories with palm leaves

By Anna Geannopoulos

Gullah Man sits on a park bench, about to tell a story.

“You see WHO-NAH-CHA-YOU-FAH running over there?  That’s him running,” he points down the square and continues performing his well-rehearsed parable.

Gullah Man is one of many palm weavers threading dry leaves and stories amid the historic squares, Spanish moss and ghosts of Savannah. You can find weavers sitting in areas of heavy tourist traffic with palm leaves spread out around them. For the most part, they are like any other street vendor—out to make some money.

On the tourist-drenched River Street walkway, a woman in a white shirt and gray baseball cap sits on a cement bench. It’s 2 p.m. on a Friday and she slowly weaves two palm leaves into the shape of a rose as the sun beats down overhead. Most residents try to avoid palm-rose peddlers like her. They have no need or space in their lives to harbor art made out of dead plants. However, she has been doing this most days from 12 to 5 p.m. for the past five years.

“I learned from one of the homeless guys,” she says in raspy voice without stopping her work.  Made out of fresh-cut nimble green palms, the roses are basically two leaves folded over one another and then twisted and wrapped up into a spiral shaped “petal” with one palm acting as stem and the other securing the rose.

“I’ve been sitting out here for three hours today and haven’t made anything.  I sell ‘em three for $10 and five bucks for one,” she said.

With the good amount of tourists walking past, she makes about $200 a day.

“Yeah, I can pay rent,” she said.  After a short pause, she added, “I don’t do drugs—I can’t afford it.”  

She’s legit, with a black and white permit protected in plastic to prove it, but it is easy to tell she doesn’t like talking with no hope of making a sale.

Another weaver sits in Wright Square. He is a heavyset black man in a green and orange tie-dyed shirt. He politely declines a request for an interview unless he’ll be paid. It seems that competition between palm weavers leaves no time for talking free of charge.

Gullah Man, on the other hand, likes to talk. A camouflaged military jacket is draped over the back of the bench and a stack of leaves covers the seat next to him. A little basket with three fresh palm-roses sticking out of it sits on the concrete walkway in front of him. Behind him, a bike amply supplied with palmetto fronds lies in the grass. He wears matching military pants, a dry-fit neon yellow sports tee, and a hat made of sweet grass.

“I am Gullah Man, ambassador of love they call me,” his aged, dark brown face lights up as he begins to introduce himself.  Every time he speaks music comes out, as if each word were a tone or note in an improvised symphony.

He continues his parable about WHO-NAH-CHA-YOU-FAH, a boy that like him wants to become a master.  He completes his story by weaving a palm rose perfectly with his eyes closed and behind his back; an art he has practiced to entertain and impress tourists.

“One day I woke up and I said, ‘I don’t wanna retire and I’m not ready to expire so I’m going to go out and live, laugh, and love every day that God give me.’  I became Gullah Man, the character.  My true name is Jabulani which means ‘be happy’ that’s my name, Jabulani, but I’m known as Gullah Man or Gullah,” he said.

He came to Savannah in 1980 after the U.S. Army discharged him at Fort Stewart. Professionally he’s been a bricklayer, block layer, concrete finisher and dump truck driver. Now he crafts palm leaves and is the self-appointed ambassador to the city. He takes pride in being able to greet tourists in their native tongue.  He also has some tour guide friends that ferry sightseers into his waiting embrace.

His speech flows rhythmically from one topic to the next, telling how his ancestors are from the Lowcountry and Angola. How he went to Talladega College after leaving the military to study business. Any time people walk past he calls out, welcoming them to Savannah. He talks about how he respects the trees unlike some of the other palm weavers.  But, he is not upset at them, saying that they have to eat too.

“I heard one time that money don’t grow on trees. I found that I beg to differ,” he lets out a bellowing laugh. “They said that money don’t grow on trees I said ‘Okay, if you looking down you might not find no money on the ground but I see money in the trees all the time.’”

In the front of his basket of roses is a sticker for “One Human Family,” a religious-based grassroots movement starting in Key West, Fla.  Its website explains the ideology of human collectiveness—“we are all of equal value”—members of one human family.  This ideology permeates every word Gullah Man speaks.

“I’m living a wonderful life on a permanent vacation, isn’t this wonderful? That’s what I learned in college. It wasn’t just about getting the sheepskin, it was about trying to become an American success story and that’s what I do. I run a major business called spreading love, you can’t beat it. Never need a bail out.  Am I right?”

Contact Anna Geannopoulos.

Tonight we dine on flesh: HVZ has its final stand

By Anna Geannopoulos

“What do we want?”

“BRAINS!”

“WHEN DO WE WANT IT?”

“BRAINS!”

The chanting of the flesh feeding horde moments before the final stand between the undead and the remaining human resistance had begun. This battle marked the end of weekend-long elaborate game of tag, Humans vs. Zombies, which was played by over 400 zombie-loving SCAD students.

It was a battle that would determine the result of the entire game. Would the Resistance survive or succumb to the infection carried by the Horde? Around 10:20 March 29, a crowd began forming around Dyson field to find out the answer for themselves.

Onlookers speculated what would happen as the zombies, some fully decked out in costumes and stage make-up, paraded around with their menacing team bandannas across their foreheads. They were ready to kill. The Resistance could see the crowd as they planned their method of attack. Onlookers commented on how last year only one human had survived and as the zombies gathered the Resistance’s fate become cloudy.

Every year, a different scenario is presented for a final stand. This year in order to win, humans had to collect two important items that were scattered across the infected territory. Once each item had been acquired, the Resistance would have to make it to the back corner of the Weston parking lot alive.

This was not an easy task, since the infection had spread across most of the residence halls complexes. Turner, Turner Annex, Oglethorpe House, Boundary Village and the Dyson-Weston area were all zombie dominated.
 The resistance carried their plastic guns and socks in homemade holsters, each wearing their arm bandannas with pride.

“Win or lose, we’ve already won for staying alive this long,” said second time player Buckle Nagle.

“Win or lose, I had a really good excuse to buy a lot of Nerf-guns,” her comrade Mark Kracoff joked.

For those who are unfamiliar with the game, it starts with an original zombie (OZ) who gets to infect 6 people before he has to reveal that he is the leader of the undead.  Game play requires the zombies to wear their bandannas on their head and humans wear them on their arm.

Each human has an identification card that they relinquish when a zombie ‘feeds on’ them, and they turn undead.  Humans can stun zombies with Nerf-guns or socks and zombies die if they don’t feed once every 48 hours.  (To make it even simpler, it is like a game of tag and the zombies are “it.”) A series of missions are held every night to make the game more interesting.

The winning side gains something that will benefit their cause.

Hannah Jenkins, an infected zombie since the “Turner Massacre,” explained, in between taunts to “human” players on the bus, that game play is based on the honor code. There are certain “safe zones” such as buses or dorm rooms where play halts. Last year there was some conflict between non-players and those participating in the game.

“Most of our problems came from non-players interacting with the game in a negative fashion,” game organizer Josh Evans said.

“Everything from throwing water balloons to screaming insults, we take a lot of crap from students who don’t play,” Evans said.

Some of this strife came because last year the game was a week-long event which took place while students were trying to study or sleep to prepare for their classes the next day. This year the game was played entirely on the weekend with the exception of Monday’s final stand.

For everyone who felt players interfered too much with their lifestyle, try this number on for size: over 1,600.  That’s the amount, in dollars, raised for Invisible Children, an organization that helps children in war-torn Uganda.

The HVZ game’s entrance fee of $5 went entirely to this cause, and at this point they are still bringing in donations. Not bad for a bunch of college kids pretending to be zombies.

Speaking of zombies, the final battle went a little something like this: 
as soon as the “GO” signal was shouted the entire horde of zombies ran through the Dyson parking lot and swarmed the field as the humans tried to race out. The game seemed like chaos, but zombie leaders with walkie-talkies seemed to be organizing a strategy as they went. Students clad in Spanish moss covered jumps suits and army camouflage ran in every direction.

Three Dyson residents, spurred out of their dorms by the commotion were walking in a confused clump each on their respective cell phones.

“Oh my God, that was, like, the scariest thing that has ever happened to me,” one reported to whomever was on the other line.

Other spectators were confused on where to look, with so much action happening.  Gung-ho photographers ran toward sounds to take quick snapshots and reported back to their friends. For 20 minutes, the undead valiantly tried to stop the resistance and at one point it seemed they had.

Screams were bellowing out of the back parking lot of Weston, then, suddenly, the game was over.

Zombies and humans alike walked together, some saying the humans had won, some giving each other high fives for another zombie victory. As everyone gathered in the Dyson field one last time it became official: the humans had won. The sole survivor from last year’s game was Michael Cook Jr. This year’s two survivors were Andy Schott and Zane Friday.

While walking back towards the field he shared the secret of his success: less guns.  You don’t look like a target without the giant Nerf. A final message from the game’s computer program, ANMRI, was read aloud for all:
“…I now am fully committed to guiding and controlling your species.”

The crowd of more than 400 roared with laughter, and someone called out “What a b****,” which received even more laughter.

The message continued: “… rather than reset your memory card I have allowed you to keep these experiences within you for added emotional weight to your being. However, you will only ever remember this as a clever game of tag that you played during college.”

The game was officially over, but the fun was not. Someone asked if the OZ was going to shave a giant Z in his chest hair as promised, and others asked, “Who wants to give me a ride to IHOP?”

Everyone dispersed knowing that the infection would be back next year, and by then the game would be bigger and better than ever.

By Anna Geannopoulos
Illustration by Tom Rogers

Editor’s note:

This article has been revised April 2, 2010 to reflect the following changes:

Zombies die if they don’t feed once every 48 hours.

Michael Cook Jr. did not survive this year. The only survivors were Andy Schott and Zane Friday.

Anne Marie was incorrectly identified. The  final message was read by the game’s computer program ANMRI.

Was that a recycling bin?

By Anna Geannopoulos

“Magazine paper is too shiny to be recycled, right?” my roommate last year asked me after I set up a little cardboard box in our Dyson room.

This, and many other questions came up while she tried to actively recycle things and accept my fruitless attempt to reduce waste. At the time there were two different colored bins that were vaguely marked with the three-arrowed symbol around the dorm complex.

I assumed one was for paper and the other for everything else; most people just used them for trash. For the record, you can recycle magazine paper, and also for the record, I once walked by the maintenance staff throwing an old air conditioning unit into one of the dorm recycling bins.

SCAD prides itself on being on the cutting edge of innovation, yet it took them almost a year after the city of Savannah started using single-stream recycling to implement the use of it in their residence hall complexes. Inconvenience is the main reason why people opt out of recycling. Living in a place where you know everyone else is using the recycling bin for throwing out trash is disheartening. Even after my current residence, Barnard Village, got the mysterious blue recycling bins at the end of last quarter, there was no information given on what should go in them.

For people to use the bins you must tell them what they are for. Different people view recycling with varying levels of concern and knowledge. Some people genuinely don’t care, but for the most part people who abuse the recycling bins just don’t know what they are supposed to do. The idea of sorting trash automatically turns people off from recycling but really all you need to do is put some items in one receptacle and others in the bin right next to it. If you do this as you go, there is no need to sort through it later.

The single stream bin makes this even easier – your paper, cardboard, plastics, glass, aluminum and metal cans can have one big party together as they wait to go to a plant which will sort them, melt them down and create new items. If a list of things that can go in were listed on the lid of the can I’m sure more people would use the service.

People shouldn’t feel that they have to recycle, they should adamantly want to.

SCAD, of all places, should take conserving the environment very seriously. Courses in sustainability should be a requirement for every area of design, not just an elective. They should be giving out free reusable shopping bags at orientation, not satchels that most people will never use. The blue bin doesn’t reduce waste; motivating people to use it does.

Contact Anna Geannopoulos.

Gallery Hop breakdown

By Anna Geannopoulos

The multicultural mix of artists exhibiting at Gutstein Gallery (next to the Jen Library) is quite a treat. Each artist has his or her own distinct style and technique so that each area holds a new experience. Penny Siopis’ mixture of glue, ink and paint create stunning and haunting images on canvas.

Ghada Amer’s work should be viewed up close. Her mixture of embroidery and acrylic has a lot of subtle depth. Overall, this “Wild as Wind” exhibit is one you want to see regardless if you partake in the Hop or not.

Wild as the Wind
Gutstein Gallery
201 E. Broughton St.

Lara Baladi continues the “Wild as the Wind” at the Pei Ling Chan Gallery. “Shish Kebab” is her mixture of video, computer manipulation, photo and music. Grid-like backlit images resembling photo negatives grace the walls as a multimedia box plays music and video in the center. All of this combines for a great experience and definitely compliments the artwork at the Gutstein.

Wild as the Wind
Pei Ling Chan Gallery
322 Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd.

The Pinnacle Gallery, a small exhibition space highlights four pieces of artwork that are interesting, yet not something to stare at for more than 3 minutes. The artwork of Rocio Rodriques and Martha Whittington, foundation studies teachers at the SCAD-Atlanta campus go together nicely. If you find yourself in the neighborhood it might be nice to stop in, but overall it’s not worth going out of your way to see.

Doublethink
The Pinnacle Gallery
320 E. Liberty St.

It appears to be a very small exhibit explaining the D3 Natural Systems competition and what it entails. If you are interested in architecture based upon nature’s microorganisms it might be more useful to Google it, since there really isn’t much in this exhibit. If you’re an architecture student, maybe check it out during a break from class but there really isn’t much to see.

D3 Natural Systems
Eichberg Hall
229 Martin Luther King Jr Blvd.

This exhibit of the SCADDY award entries promises some entertaining print ads and campaigns as well as bodies of film. If you are an advertising student or just interested in your fellow students’ work, this is a great place to check it out. There is a large variety of works and each is an excellently crafted yet simple ad that will entertain the viewer.

SCADDY Awards
Alexander Hall
668 India St.

A mixture of paintings, sculpture and film comprise Christopher Priore’s MFA thesis exhibition located in the front area of Montgomery Hall. The artwork is intriguing and engaging with enough variety to keep the viewer interested. The building is a little far out of the Historic District, but if you’re in the area it would be a cool one to check out.

Amore Priore
La Galerie Bleue
3515 Montgomery St.

Contact Anna Geannopoulos.