Post by Okwes on Dec 21, 2006 12:58:58 GMT -5
A True History of the Hovey Murals By Stephen Farrow | Tuesday, November
28, 2006 <http://www.dartreview.com/archives/2006/11/28/index.php>
www.dartreview.com/archives/2006/11/28/a_true_history_of_the_hove\
y_murals.php
<http://www.dartreview.com/archives/2006/11/28/a_true_history_of_the_hov\
ey_murals.php> In 1894, Richard Hovey, a poet and prodigious writer
of songs for Dartmouth (including the Alma Mater), wrote a comical song
about the founding of the College. The song, "Eleazar Wheelock,"
is a story of Eleazar Wheelock going out to teach the Indians,
eventually founding a college. Hovey was not writing a serious account;
instead he decides to have a bit of fun with everyone involved. Among
Wheelock's resources for educating the Indians are "a Bible and
a drum / And five hundred gallons of New England rum." The song was
a favorite among students for years: Eleazar Wheelock Oh, Eleazar
Wheelock was a very pious man; He went into the wildernes to teach the
Indian, With a Gradus ad Parnassum, a Bible and a drum, And five hundred
gallons of New England rum. Fill the bowl up! Fill the bowl up! Drink to
Eleazar, And his primitive Alcazar, Where he mixed drinks for the
heathen in the goodness of his soul. The big chief that met him was the
sachem of the Wah-hoo-wahs; If he was not a big chief, there was never
one you saw who was; He had tobacco by the cord, ten squaws, and more to
come, But he never yet had tasted of New England rum. Fill the bowl up!
Fill the bowl up! Eleazar and the big chief harangued and gesticulated;
They founded Dartmouth College, and the big chief matriculated. Eleazar
was the faculty, and the whole curriculum Was five hundred gallons of
New England rum. Fill the Bowl up! Fill the bowl up! During the 1937-38
school year, Walter B. Humphries, class of 1914, decided to create a
painting to immortalize the beloved song. He caricatured the song and
painted it for the walls of Hovey's Grill, the establishment on the
first floor of Thayer Dining Hall named for the poet. Humphries'
murals adorned the walls of the Grill until 1979 when, with John Kemeny
as president, the College decided that the paintings were too offensive.
The murals were boarded up, and Hovey's Grill was closed off and
used only for storage. The paintings remain censored today; they are
very rarely uncovered for private viewings. The paintings, like
Hovey's verse, are whimsical and comic. There are Indians, clad in
loincloths, drinking with a fat, oafish Eleazar Wheelock. "There
are two Eleazar Wheelocks in the Dartmouth dramatis personae," wrote
Paul Zeller, the director of Dartmouth's Glee Club, in 1950. There
is the earnest, tenacious divine whose faith carried him over obstacles
which would have turned aside lesser men to found a college that became
a living monument not only to the man himself but to his overriding
strength of purpose. The other Eleazar Wheelock is the slightly comic
opera figure celebrated, if not created, by the verses of Richard Hovey
'85 composed on Easter Day, 1894, and set to music by Hovey's
friend, Miss Marie Wurm, an English composer." Humphries' art
furthered the latter tradition. One of the reasons for the
College's location was that men of "steady habits" would
surround the Native Americans and keep them from falling victim to hard
drinking. How ironic, then, that Eleazar himself should be mixing the
drinks! Of course, Humphries painted a cartoonish portrait of not only
the Reverend, but also of his Indian students; it's understandable
that some would consider the work "offensive." Still, says Art
History Professor Robert McGrath, the paintings "convey a certain
mindset of the times." They are "not treasures but pieces of art
nonetheless. Once you open the Pandora's box of censorship, then
there is no place to stop it." In the past, Dartmouth has had a
proud tradition of defending First Amendment freedoms, including
President Eisenhower's famous "book-burners" speech at the
1953 Commencement and, of course, President Ernest Martin Hopkins'
defense of the Communist Jos� Clemente Orozco, who painted his own
set of murals in Baker's reserve corridor. The Orozco murals, like
Humphries', are gaudy and overdrawn. Beyond that, the murals are
also offensive, being explicitly anti-Protestant. In the last panel,
Christ chops down his own cross and adds it to a trash heap of symbols
of barbarity. The murals attack many traditional ideologies; a New
England town meeting is portrayed as a mindless robotic exercise. Yet,
while the Orozco murals are offensive to many students, the College
doesn't board them up. On the contrary, they're hyped on every
Dartmouth tour, and are, rightfully, preserved for educational and
historical value. Hopkins called them "a lecture in paint."
Humphries' paintings were an answer to the Orozco murals; ironically
he had been campaigning for their extirpation from Dartmouth. Hopkins
gave him Hovey's Grill and commissioned the Hovey paintings as a
compromise. But now Orozco remains, and Humphries is suppressed by the
heavy hand of Big Green censorship. The non-censorship of the Orozco
murals should be reason enough to take down the boards. Still, the
Humphries murals also have educational value. First, they are important
period pieces; they are painted in the aggressive, overdrawn style found
in many paintings of that era�a style "which can be found in
many cafes and bars across New York," says McGrath. Whether we like
it or not, the paintings are part of our artistic heritage. Second,
the murals reflect the society of the time. "We cannot deny how
Native Americans were viewed in the past at Dartmouth and in this
country, said Colleen Larimore '85, a member of the Comanche tribe.
"Rather than flee from this past, we must face it and learn from
it." Dartmouth isn't interested in learning, though. Dartmouth
has fully bought into a PC ideology that privileges minority demands,
even if they're ridiculous or anti-intellectual. The new attitude
was epitomized in a Daily Dartmouth column last May by Randy Stebbins
'01, who advocated dragging the Humphries murals out to the Green
and burning them. "Don't join the book burners," Eisenhower
told Dartmouth's class of 1953. "Don't think you are going
to conceal faults by concealing evidence that they ever existed.
Don't be afraid to go into your library and read every book."
That's still good advice. In the fall of 2000, Hovey's Grill
reopened its doors to students as "Hovey's Lounge," and it
includes a pool table, foosball, and other games. Yet, instead of the
bright murals, the walls are covered by plain, gray, canvas-covered
boards. Students should tear them down. It should go without saying that
censorship has no place in an academic community, that a liberal
educational institution like Dartmouth College shouldn't be sitting
as the supreme authority over what students see, read, or listen to.
There are many books in the library which are extremely offensive but we
do not respond with a mass book burning session on the Green. The
paintings are serving no purpose whatsoever in their present state. An
easy solution would be for the College to uncover the paintings and
create an exhibit, looked after by the Hood Museum. A plaque could
explain their context. This was the idea in 1993 but somehow Dartmouth
managed to forget about it. No one is forced to look at the Hovey
murals�Collis provides an alternate billiards room. But Dartmouth
College remains terrified that students might�might�look at the
paintings.
28, 2006 <http://www.dartreview.com/archives/2006/11/28/index.php>
www.dartreview.com/archives/2006/11/28/a_true_history_of_the_hove\
y_murals.php
<http://www.dartreview.com/archives/2006/11/28/a_true_history_of_the_hov\
ey_murals.php> In 1894, Richard Hovey, a poet and prodigious writer
of songs for Dartmouth (including the Alma Mater), wrote a comical song
about the founding of the College. The song, "Eleazar Wheelock,"
is a story of Eleazar Wheelock going out to teach the Indians,
eventually founding a college. Hovey was not writing a serious account;
instead he decides to have a bit of fun with everyone involved. Among
Wheelock's resources for educating the Indians are "a Bible and
a drum / And five hundred gallons of New England rum." The song was
a favorite among students for years: Eleazar Wheelock Oh, Eleazar
Wheelock was a very pious man; He went into the wildernes to teach the
Indian, With a Gradus ad Parnassum, a Bible and a drum, And five hundred
gallons of New England rum. Fill the bowl up! Fill the bowl up! Drink to
Eleazar, And his primitive Alcazar, Where he mixed drinks for the
heathen in the goodness of his soul. The big chief that met him was the
sachem of the Wah-hoo-wahs; If he was not a big chief, there was never
one you saw who was; He had tobacco by the cord, ten squaws, and more to
come, But he never yet had tasted of New England rum. Fill the bowl up!
Fill the bowl up! Eleazar and the big chief harangued and gesticulated;
They founded Dartmouth College, and the big chief matriculated. Eleazar
was the faculty, and the whole curriculum Was five hundred gallons of
New England rum. Fill the Bowl up! Fill the bowl up! During the 1937-38
school year, Walter B. Humphries, class of 1914, decided to create a
painting to immortalize the beloved song. He caricatured the song and
painted it for the walls of Hovey's Grill, the establishment on the
first floor of Thayer Dining Hall named for the poet. Humphries'
murals adorned the walls of the Grill until 1979 when, with John Kemeny
as president, the College decided that the paintings were too offensive.
The murals were boarded up, and Hovey's Grill was closed off and
used only for storage. The paintings remain censored today; they are
very rarely uncovered for private viewings. The paintings, like
Hovey's verse, are whimsical and comic. There are Indians, clad in
loincloths, drinking with a fat, oafish Eleazar Wheelock. "There
are two Eleazar Wheelocks in the Dartmouth dramatis personae," wrote
Paul Zeller, the director of Dartmouth's Glee Club, in 1950. There
is the earnest, tenacious divine whose faith carried him over obstacles
which would have turned aside lesser men to found a college that became
a living monument not only to the man himself but to his overriding
strength of purpose. The other Eleazar Wheelock is the slightly comic
opera figure celebrated, if not created, by the verses of Richard Hovey
'85 composed on Easter Day, 1894, and set to music by Hovey's
friend, Miss Marie Wurm, an English composer." Humphries' art
furthered the latter tradition. One of the reasons for the
College's location was that men of "steady habits" would
surround the Native Americans and keep them from falling victim to hard
drinking. How ironic, then, that Eleazar himself should be mixing the
drinks! Of course, Humphries painted a cartoonish portrait of not only
the Reverend, but also of his Indian students; it's understandable
that some would consider the work "offensive." Still, says Art
History Professor Robert McGrath, the paintings "convey a certain
mindset of the times." They are "not treasures but pieces of art
nonetheless. Once you open the Pandora's box of censorship, then
there is no place to stop it." In the past, Dartmouth has had a
proud tradition of defending First Amendment freedoms, including
President Eisenhower's famous "book-burners" speech at the
1953 Commencement and, of course, President Ernest Martin Hopkins'
defense of the Communist Jos� Clemente Orozco, who painted his own
set of murals in Baker's reserve corridor. The Orozco murals, like
Humphries', are gaudy and overdrawn. Beyond that, the murals are
also offensive, being explicitly anti-Protestant. In the last panel,
Christ chops down his own cross and adds it to a trash heap of symbols
of barbarity. The murals attack many traditional ideologies; a New
England town meeting is portrayed as a mindless robotic exercise. Yet,
while the Orozco murals are offensive to many students, the College
doesn't board them up. On the contrary, they're hyped on every
Dartmouth tour, and are, rightfully, preserved for educational and
historical value. Hopkins called them "a lecture in paint."
Humphries' paintings were an answer to the Orozco murals; ironically
he had been campaigning for their extirpation from Dartmouth. Hopkins
gave him Hovey's Grill and commissioned the Hovey paintings as a
compromise. But now Orozco remains, and Humphries is suppressed by the
heavy hand of Big Green censorship. The non-censorship of the Orozco
murals should be reason enough to take down the boards. Still, the
Humphries murals also have educational value. First, they are important
period pieces; they are painted in the aggressive, overdrawn style found
in many paintings of that era�a style "which can be found in
many cafes and bars across New York," says McGrath. Whether we like
it or not, the paintings are part of our artistic heritage. Second,
the murals reflect the society of the time. "We cannot deny how
Native Americans were viewed in the past at Dartmouth and in this
country, said Colleen Larimore '85, a member of the Comanche tribe.
"Rather than flee from this past, we must face it and learn from
it." Dartmouth isn't interested in learning, though. Dartmouth
has fully bought into a PC ideology that privileges minority demands,
even if they're ridiculous or anti-intellectual. The new attitude
was epitomized in a Daily Dartmouth column last May by Randy Stebbins
'01, who advocated dragging the Humphries murals out to the Green
and burning them. "Don't join the book burners," Eisenhower
told Dartmouth's class of 1953. "Don't think you are going
to conceal faults by concealing evidence that they ever existed.
Don't be afraid to go into your library and read every book."
That's still good advice. In the fall of 2000, Hovey's Grill
reopened its doors to students as "Hovey's Lounge," and it
includes a pool table, foosball, and other games. Yet, instead of the
bright murals, the walls are covered by plain, gray, canvas-covered
boards. Students should tear them down. It should go without saying that
censorship has no place in an academic community, that a liberal
educational institution like Dartmouth College shouldn't be sitting
as the supreme authority over what students see, read, or listen to.
There are many books in the library which are extremely offensive but we
do not respond with a mass book burning session on the Green. The
paintings are serving no purpose whatsoever in their present state. An
easy solution would be for the College to uncover the paintings and
create an exhibit, looked after by the Hood Museum. A plaque could
explain their context. This was the idea in 1993 but somehow Dartmouth
managed to forget about it. No one is forced to look at the Hovey
murals�Collis provides an alternate billiards room. But Dartmouth
College remains terrified that students might�might�look at the
paintings.
