Arts & Culture
Sci-Fem
WisCon marks thirty years of blending science fiction and feminism.
Drawn back as if by some mysterious, gravitational force, future-minded feminists returned to Madison in May for the thirtieth annual WisCon science-fiction and fantasy convention. But though the gathering now attracts a crowd big enough to fill the convention facilities at the Concourse Hotel, it began its life a long time ago — twenty-nine years, to be exact — at a campus not far away.
WisCon was the creation of Jeanne Gomoll ‘73 and Janice Bogstad ‘72, MA’80, MA’86, PhD’92, who were looking to fuse genre studies with gender studies while they were working at the UW in the mid 1970s. Both were fans of science fiction, but were put off by the male-centered focus of so many authors and readers.
“I read a little science fiction when I was young,” says Gomoll, “but I stopped when I was in high school because so much of it was so sexist. I didn’t really rediscover the genre until I was in college.”
After graduating, she and Bogstad created Janus, a sci-fi magazine with a feminist bent. In 1975 they began attending “cons,” or conventions, but found them frustrating. “At most, they had one panel devoted to women in science fiction,” Gomoll says. “Janice and I figured that there was enough interest in women’s issues to be the focus of a whole convention, but if we wanted to see one, we’d have to run it ourselves.”
Drawn back as if by some mysterious, gravitational force, future-minded feminists returned to Madison in May for the thirtieth annual WisCon science-fiction and fantasy convention. But though the gathering now attracts a crowd big enough to fill the convention facilities at the Concourse Hotel, it began its life a long time ago — twenty-nine years, to be exact — at a campus not far away.
WisCon was the creation of Jeanne Gomoll ‘73 and Janice Bogstad ‘72, MA’80, MA’86, PhD’92, who were looking to fuse genre studies with gender studies while they were working at the UW in the mid 1970s. Both were fans of science fiction, but were put off by the male-centered focus of so many authors and readers.
“I read a little science fiction when I was young,” says Gomoll, “but I stopped when I was in high school because so much of it was so sexist. I didn’t really rediscover the genre until I was in college.”
After graduating, she and Bogstad created Janus, a sci-fi magazine with a feminist bent. In 1975 they began attending “cons,” or conventions, but found them frustrating. “At most, they had one panel devoted to women in science fiction,” Gomoll says. “Janice and I figured that there was enough interest in women’s issues to be the focus of a whole convention, but if we wanted to see one, we’d have to run it ourselves.”
They hosted their first WisCon in the winter of 1977, inviting participants to meet on the UW campus at the Wisconsin Center (now called the Pyle Center). In spite of a blizzard, attendance ran to 250. During the following three decades, the convention attracted best-selling authors, including Ursula K. Le Guin, Charles de Lint, Robin McKinley, and Jane Yolen, and attendance increased so much that it outgrew the Wisconsin Center and outlived Janus, which ceased publication in the 1980s.
According to Scott Custis, who co-chaired the thirtieth WisCon with Gomoll, this year’s convention sold out two months before it opened. “We had to cap attendance,” he says. “Even so, there were quite a few people who showed up who hadn’t bought tickets. There were more than a thousand bodies in the hotel.”
The next WisCon will be held from May 25 to 28, 2007.
— John Allen
According to Scott Custis, who co-chaired the thirtieth WisCon with Gomoll, this year’s convention sold out two months before it opened. “We had to cap attendance,” he says. “Even so, there were quite a few people who showed up who hadn’t bought tickets. There were more than a thousand bodies in the hotel.”
The next WisCon will be held from May 25 to 28, 2007.
— John Allen
COLLECTION: Indian Minis
It’s not surprising that Jane Werner Watson ‘36 became enchanted by the hand-painted miniatures she discovered when she and her husband, Earnest, spent three years in New Delhi, India. The intricate Indian paintings at one time served as illustrations in handmade books, and Watson, a children’s author, had a strong interest in the relation of pictures to text — she wrote and edited several volumes in the Little Golden Book series by Random House.
The Indian books were “spectacularly beautiful,” according to Andrew Stevens, the Chazen Museum of Art’s curator of prints, drawings, and photographs. “They don’t survive, but the paintings do, and I can see how [Watson] might [have been] very intrigued by these.”
During their three-year stay in New Delhi and subsequent trips, the Watsons collected 283 Indian miniatures, which span six centuries and cover regions across India. The couple donated them to the Chazen Museum over several years, and Jane Watson bequeathed the entire collection upon her death in 2004.
Although the paintings may be small, their portrayal of Indian culture and stories is anything but miniature. Their lavish and ornately detailed quality captured the most important parts of many different texts in much the same way that illustrators embellish children’s fairy tales.
It’s “that sort of thing that we all are sort of interested in,” Stevens says. “They’re so beautifully made that you can’t help but be charmed by them.”
The Chazen Museum received grant money to hire Metropolitan Museum of Art surveyor Yana Van Dyke to assess the collection and outline any necessary repairs in August. The collection is available for viewing by appointment.
— Elli Thompson x’08
The Indian books were “spectacularly beautiful,” according to Andrew Stevens, the Chazen Museum of Art’s curator of prints, drawings, and photographs. “They don’t survive, but the paintings do, and I can see how [Watson] might [have been] very intrigued by these.”
During their three-year stay in New Delhi and subsequent trips, the Watsons collected 283 Indian miniatures, which span six centuries and cover regions across India. The couple donated them to the Chazen Museum over several years, and Jane Watson bequeathed the entire collection upon her death in 2004.
Although the paintings may be small, their portrayal of Indian culture and stories is anything but miniature. Their lavish and ornately detailed quality captured the most important parts of many different texts in much the same way that illustrators embellish children’s fairy tales.
It’s “that sort of thing that we all are sort of interested in,” Stevens says. “They’re so beautifully made that you can’t help but be charmed by them.”
The Chazen Museum received grant money to hire Metropolitan Museum of Art surveyor Yana Van Dyke to assess the collection and outline any necessary repairs in August. The collection is available for viewing by appointment.
— Elli Thompson x’08
Found Art
The Union recovers a mysterious sculpture it didn’t know was missing.
The Memorial Union’s newest art acquisition is a riddle, carved in mahogany, and wrapped up in a UPS box.
The piece, a thirty-inch-tall, wood-and-stone sculpture of five human figures, turned up in the Union’s mail room in June, apparently having been heisted three decades earlier. The package, postmarked from Costa Mesa, California, included a note, which reads: “I am returning a piece of student art that was taken from the 2nd floor gallery in the mid-70s as part of a prank. It was foolish, childish and something I am deeply ashamed of. I have no idea of the name of the artist or the piece. I apologize.”
The note was signed “B. Badger.”
The rest, as they say, is mystery.
There’s no record of the piece having gone missing, and it doesn’t appear to have been part of the Union’s permanent art collection. More likely, it was displayed in a temporary exhibition in one of the Union’s galleries, which host up to two dozen shows a year.
The Memorial Union’s newest art acquisition is a riddle, carved in mahogany, and wrapped up in a UPS box.
The piece, a thirty-inch-tall, wood-and-stone sculpture of five human figures, turned up in the Union’s mail room in June, apparently having been heisted three decades earlier. The package, postmarked from Costa Mesa, California, included a note, which reads: “I am returning a piece of student art that was taken from the 2nd floor gallery in the mid-70s as part of a prank. It was foolish, childish and something I am deeply ashamed of. I have no idea of the name of the artist or the piece. I apologize.”
The note was signed “B. Badger.”
The rest, as they say, is mystery.
There’s no record of the piece having gone missing, and it doesn’t appear to have been part of the Union’s permanent art collection. More likely, it was displayed in a temporary exhibition in one of the Union’s galleries, which host up to two dozen shows a year.
Robin Schmoldt ‘97, who manages the Union’s art collection, is ready to play detective, but she doesn’t have much to go on. She ruled out Bucky Badger as the thief — too clumsy with those over-sized paws, perhaps — and the phone number and return address on the package turned out to be bogus. But she says more important than the identity of the guilt-ridden thief is the puzzle of the sculpture’s creator.
“We’ll let B. Badger live in anonymity,” she says. “The bigger priority is to find out who sculpted it so that we can return it to its rightful owner.”
Paperwork filed at the time of the exhibition may provide some clues, but Schmoldt is looking for additional information to narrow the search. “We’re hoping that someone recognizes the piece and can tell us more about it.”
Although the Union loses several dozen Terrace chairs each year to theft, instances of stolen art are almost unheard of, says Schmoldt. And that’s what makes the thief’s belated regret so intriguing.
“Someone has taken care of it,” she says, noting that the sculpture only needs a few minor repairs to fix a broken base. “They didn’t just dump it in the lake. They held on to it for thirty years. It’s obviously been bugging them.”
— Michael Penn
“We’ll let B. Badger live in anonymity,” she says. “The bigger priority is to find out who sculpted it so that we can return it to its rightful owner.”
Paperwork filed at the time of the exhibition may provide some clues, but Schmoldt is looking for additional information to narrow the search. “We’re hoping that someone recognizes the piece and can tell us more about it.”
Although the Union loses several dozen Terrace chairs each year to theft, instances of stolen art are almost unheard of, says Schmoldt. And that’s what makes the thief’s belated regret so intriguing.
“Someone has taken care of it,” she says, noting that the sculpture only needs a few minor repairs to fix a broken base. “They didn’t just dump it in the lake. They held on to it for thirty years. It’s obviously been bugging them.”
— Michael Penn
Lyrical Laughter
Trying to reach the tech-savvy iPod generation with a musical style that’s been essentially dead for centuries may seem like an impossible mission, but it’s one Bruce Gladstone is ready to accept. He intends to resuscitate the Renaissance art of the madrigal. A lecturer in the UW-Madison School of Music, Gladstone recently received a $5,000 grant from the Evjue Foundation, a charitable organization that supports Madison-area arts initiatives, to write a madrigal comedy for kids. Gladstone believes that madrigal comedy’s storytelling structure could appeal to children’s vivid imaginations.
“Madrigal comedy is something that you see with your mind, not with your eye,” he says. By tickling their funny bones with comedic lyrics, Gladstone also hopes to pique kids’ interest in music. “It’s hard to keep barriers up when you’re laughing,” he says.
A popular type of Italian musical entertainment during the late sixteenth century, madrigal comedies were performed by chorale groups and dealt with everyday events, such as women gossiping at the laundry. Gladstone is working with British playwright and children’s book author Timothy Knapman and composer Scott Gendel MMusic’01, DMA’05 to create a work that speaks to today’s youngsters on their level. He plans to hit the road with the UW’s madrigal choir sometime next year to sing the composition at elementary schools statewide.
“Hopefully, we’ll pick schools without a big chorale presence,” says Gladstone. “It could be a shot in the arm in terms of getting kids excited about singing.”
— Erin Hueffner ‘00
“Madrigal comedy is something that you see with your mind, not with your eye,” he says. By tickling their funny bones with comedic lyrics, Gladstone also hopes to pique kids’ interest in music. “It’s hard to keep barriers up when you’re laughing,” he says.
A popular type of Italian musical entertainment during the late sixteenth century, madrigal comedies were performed by chorale groups and dealt with everyday events, such as women gossiping at the laundry. Gladstone is working with British playwright and children’s book author Timothy Knapman and composer Scott Gendel MMusic’01, DMA’05 to create a work that speaks to today’s youngsters on their level. He plans to hit the road with the UW’s madrigal choir sometime next year to sing the composition at elementary schools statewide.
“Hopefully, we’ll pick schools without a big chorale presence,” says Gladstone. “It could be a shot in the arm in terms of getting kids excited about singing.”
— Erin Hueffner ‘00
ARTIFACTS
Former Flak magazine editor J. R. Norton ‘99 takes a hard look at American history and current politics in Saving General Washington, a new book from Tarcher Publishing. In it, he examines the connections that modern-day liberals and conservatives share with the Founding Fathers.
The Chazen Museum of Art will present Wild Edges: Photographic Ink Prints, an exhibition of large-scale, black-and-white pastoral images by photographer Gregory Conniff from September 2 through November 5, 2006.
The UW opened a new Office of Multicultural Arts Initiatives in July. Housed in the School of Education, the office’s primary goal is to help recruit students of color to the UW-Madison campus by serving as a clearing house for multicultural arts programming.
UW Press offers a look inside the debate over physician-assisted suicide with the publication of a biography of Jack Kevorkian. Between the Dying and the Dead: Dr. Jack Kevorkian’s Life and the Battle to Legalize Euthanasia by Neal Nicol and Harry Wylie came out this summer. It offers insight into the life of the man known popularly as “Dr. Death,” who’s been in prison since 1998 and is up for parole in 2007.
The romantic side of tuba music comes out on the CD Reverie, released in April. The recording features the work of tuba professor John Stevens and his daughter Katie ’05 (euphonium), as well as associate professor Martha Fischer on piano. The music is a collection of romantic arrangements and transcriptions.
The Chazen Museum of Art will present Wild Edges: Photographic Ink Prints, an exhibition of large-scale, black-and-white pastoral images by photographer Gregory Conniff from September 2 through November 5, 2006.
The UW opened a new Office of Multicultural Arts Initiatives in July. Housed in the School of Education, the office’s primary goal is to help recruit students of color to the UW-Madison campus by serving as a clearing house for multicultural arts programming.
UW Press offers a look inside the debate over physician-assisted suicide with the publication of a biography of Jack Kevorkian. Between the Dying and the Dead: Dr. Jack Kevorkian’s Life and the Battle to Legalize Euthanasia by Neal Nicol and Harry Wylie came out this summer. It offers insight into the life of the man known popularly as “Dr. Death,” who’s been in prison since 1998 and is up for parole in 2007.
The romantic side of tuba music comes out on the CD Reverie, released in April. The recording features the work of tuba professor John Stevens and his daughter Katie ’05 (euphonium), as well as associate professor Martha Fischer on piano. The music is a collection of romantic arrangements and transcriptions.
