Exaggerated skyscrapers and towering lights have turned into monumental trees and shining stars. As I walk up the hill that is First Ave towards the studio I walk by neighbors that recline on their rocking chairs, set up porch sales, and greet my classmates with hearty smiles and friendly hellos. Being conditioned to the neighborhoods of Brooklyn, I have to do a double take and readjust my social gears. When I go for a walk around Mount Gretna, it feels as though I have returned home after being abroad for years. After living here for only a week, there seems to be an endless amount of sights to discover within the tight knit community. Watching John Goodrich talk in the Hall of Philosophy, I can’t help but be afflicted by the rich history of events and discussions that have taken place. It’s refreshing to be within such a historical place (Mt Gretna), as I am accustomed to constant infrastructure renovation and rebuilding (in NY City) that projects a sterile environment.
Having studied in New York my entire life, I find myself coming across a term that I am unfamiliar with, within painting: rhythm. It seems so fundamental and innate, yet I have not once come across the interpretations of rhythmic forms in art as I have here. I feel so drawn to the intensity of the subjective understanding that classmates and faculty can see through masters, like Titian and Rembrandt all the way to work of my contemporaries. These instinctive abilities that seem overlooked in my experience at New York academy are what I hope to learn through humble and modest eyes.
- Tristen Demmett