The Whitworthian

Issue date: 11/13/07 Last Updated: 11/17/07

The pipes tremble in a low symphony as they pump out warm, milky air.

I walk into a dark room dimly lit with a sepia glow emanating from fog shrouded streetlights outside. I’ll sit for awhile in this sanctuary and let the warmth of my surroundings thaw my frozen skin. If I close my eyes I can hear the building breathe.

These moments draw to a close, however, and earlier than anticipated. There are too many late nights spent with charcoal covered hands, hunched over half-finished drawings for this building to not be in my blood. Too many paint soaked fingers. Too many all-nighters in the printmaking studio cursing inky fingerprints and guish marks. 

She’s an old girl, though, well lived and loved. Her time must come, and it is our time to say goodbye. She’s not completely gone yet, but with the new access policy in place locking the building down during the night, it just won't be the same. With the building locked between midnight and 8 a.m. part of her is lost. Part of the experience is lost. (See "Vandalism prompts change in hours for art students")

There's something about being in that building at night, a solace. There is an honesty in the dark, it becomes a sanctuary where the artist can be alone with the art. Perhaps it’s for the best, though. Perhaps we need a transition between having this building and not having it. Not to say that we don’t need a new art building; we sure do -- no doubt about it. But the character and history this one has is irreplaceable.

I fell in love in the drawing studio, practiced ballet in the painting studio, stayed up till 7 a.m. in the printmaking studio, smoked cheap cigars to keep me awake on the stairs out front. My mom developed photos in the darkroom when she went to Whitworth; so have I. I feel like part of me is connected to this building from even before I was born.  I'm sure I'm not the only one with sentimental memories in these halls.

Next year, my fellow art students and I will move to a brand new, state of the art space. We’ll have big studios outfitted with new equipment, a gallery that isn’t just an old converted classroom, computer labs that work, and no squirrels gallivanting through the halls. But the walls will be clean, stark, and unfamiliar; free from decade old graffiti.

So, farewell old girl, you’ve had a good run. We hope you don’t mind our scribbles on your walls and dropped brushes on your floors.

Some say the art building is haunted; I hope I’m one of the ghosts.

Elizabeth Johnson is an opinions columnist and a junior majoring in art. Contact her at elizabeth.johnson@whitworthian.com.

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