Wordless Wednesday: thanks for visiting!

 

Memory Lane has changed

I know it's been a while since my last post, but I think I'm finally getting through some obligations to non-blog-worthy work, and hope to be a little better about this in the rest of 2025.

Like last week, when I spent a delightful few days with some old and new friends from college. This group of women get together every year and I've joined them a few times (once we visited a cave!). This year's outing, back on our old stomping grounds, wasn't one to pass up.

One of the things I was most interested in seeing was the newly designed academic quadrangle. That's a picture of it above. The landscaping is still in the beginning stages, but eventually there will actually be shade there—imagine, wanting shade in Houston! Yes, the iconic hedges of my youth are gone, but the overall design is more flowing and natural-looking, so the hedges' strict perpendicularity would have been out of place.

Here's a shot of one section of the quad where the plantings are really taking off, and you can see the curvature of the path:

The buildings in the background have been changed substantially, too: Anderson Hall on the right, where I had a lot of English classes, is now strictly the Archies' (that's Ar-Kees, or architecture students)

domain; and Fondren Library on the left, where I worked during and after graduation, now has a nice covered area with benches all along its front.

What inspired this transformation of the quad was the question of what to do with the statue of the University's founder, which sat right in the middle of it, in somewhat hagiographic splendor. (Although, some prankster engineering students in the 1980's treated it rather disrespectfully, actually lifting the entire statue around so that it faced the library instead of the administration building. You can see a picture of it flipped here, a shot which incidentally shows you a bit of how the quad looked before the re-design.)

The problem with according William Marsh Rice such elevated status is that he was an enslaver, and therefore some of the wealth used to endow the school—which was originally set up as an institute for whites only—was the result of enslaved people's labor. The University wanted to acknowledge this troublesome past, while at the same time being grateful for the man's vision, which has resulted in this first-class institution.

Not wanting to just jump in and take the statue away somewhere, after much careful thought they came up with the re-design of the quad and a new home for "Willy," as the statue has always been called by students. Here he is in his new digs, and down at eye level, as a human being, not held up as some sort of paragon:

He's still in the quad, just off in this attractive corner between the administration building and Sewell Hall. I feel like my alma mater handled this difficult history about as well as it could be handled. They even researched and published a lengthy report on the institution's history with segregation and injustice. I read the whole thing and it's a fascinating, thoughtful analysis of these issues; you can see it here.

Willy's plinth, or at least the base of it, is still in the center of the quad, just not perpendicular to the buildings any more, but at an angle, befitting the new design aesthetic:

I've read that the designers intend for it to be able to be used as a small performance space...maybe when some of those shade trees have grown a bit. I really like the quotation attached to it. Everyone's heard of Kennedy's speech at Rice Stadium, where he talks about going to the moon, but I've never heard this part of the speech before. The guy (or someone who worked for him) really knew how to write speeches, eh?

After a couple of days of contributing a ton of oral history for the University Historian (which brought back so many memories!) we took a tour of another building that wasn't around when we went to school. Just as I was leaving, the Shepherd School of Music was being born, and their enormous, but lovely, building now takes up part of what used to be the stadium parking lot. (It was opened in 1975.) A bit more of that lot was taken to build the new opera house, which was just dedicated in 2022. The Shepherd School is on the right here, and the Brockman Music and Performing Arts Center (the opera house) is on the left. I made sure some of my friends were in the frame so you could see the scale of these behemoths!

We had an informative talk by the Brockman's director, and then got to sit in on a rehearsal, which was super cool...

the hall's impressive ceiling,
with a bit of some of the seating levels

...and what was even more amazing, was a look backstage, and a talk by the guy who almost single-handedly makes all the sets. Here's a piece left over from a previous show, that will probably get used again:

you can almost smell the fresh-cut wood, can't you?

All this grandeur tends to color my memories of the campus now, although whenever I have one of those "there's an exam and I forgot to study!" nightmares, I'm usually on the "ghost campus" as it  was in 1967-71. So walking around is both familiar and strange...a little unsettling, but still worthwhile. (You can read of previous trips to campus, and see other changes and artistic touches, by following the Rice University label on the right.)

I'll close with a shot of the fabulous opera house, looking worthy of being in London or Milan, don't you think?

Visiting the old homestead...

...well, sort of.

Henry got to attend his 50th Rice reunion last month (I didn't get mine due to *&#%&# covid!) and we had a pleasant day visiting the ol' stomping grounds. Although (as I've told you before) the campus as it exists today is barely recognizable as where got our B.A.'s in the early '70's. The super-cool fine arts building you see above is but one of the snazzy new buildings that have gone up in the last few years.

After a nice party for the class of '72, we opted to take a stroll at dusk around the west end of the campus; it was just parking lot and fields when we were in school there. But now there's all kinds of buildings, as well as this wonderful installation:

When we were here before (it's featured at the end of this post, which describes our visit to the campus in its centennial year), it was just called the Skyspace. But now it has a different, longer name.  However, it is just as impressive and we spent a good bit of the magic hour here. The Medical Center skyline even color coordinated itself with the pink part of the pavilion's cycle:

Here's a couple of shots highlighting the structures changing color, as well as it's "skylight" hole in the roof...

that's the Shepherd School of Music in the background,
another post-Henry-and-Kathy addition

...and another view as we departed...

Not far from the pavilion is the home of the Baker Institute, a relative old-timer (1993) at this end of campus. It has a very nice fountain:

Of course, most of the buildings we knew intimately are still there, although occasionally refurbished and added-on-to. One landmark for Henry that doesn't look different (at least from the outside), is the old Hanszen tower, site of many undergrad hijinks:

And another site we were happy to see as unchanged, the Rice Chapel, where Gramma and Grampa got hitched, not quite 50 years ago:

to see what it looked like during our nuptials,
check out this 2011 post, at the end

Of course, there was also a football game this reunion day, although the less said about that the better. However, the Rice MOB entertained as always, especially with alums participating:

I'll close with another piece of campus art. I think you'll agree that, even if you're not an alum, this campus is a spot worth a visit if you're looking for something new to do in Houston.

Wordless Wednesday: just sittin' and thinkin'

Wordless Wednesday: Rice pride

Even more milestones

Sorry I haven't been blogging much lately, but, as you will see, I've been pretty busy.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about something special that happened 100 years ago; specifically, the birth of my father-in-law.

As it turns out, some other pretty important stuff was happening in 1912. In fact, in the same month that Colonel was born, the first class of students started classes at the Rice Institute in Houston. To commemorate this momentous occasion, and to celebrate the even more momentous milestones of the intervening 100 years (like, for example, Henry's and my matriculations and graduations!) what is now Rice University held a incredible centennial birthday bash last weekend.

The highlight of the weekend came Saturday night, and it even overshadowed Henry's 40th reunion (although that is definitely a significant milestone).

The University put on an absolutely unbelievable lightshow in the central quad, using its lovely buildings as the "canvas" for the art. A German outfit called Urban Screen, which has done similar shows at the Sydney Opera House and the Museum Quarter in Vienna, put the 20-minute extravaganza together. 

WOW! What a show! You can see a video of it here, which can give you a small taste of what it was like in person, along with some interesting information about how it was done. Our group of friends all agreed that it was unlike anything we'd ever seen before. 

In addition to being visually amazing, the show highlighted Rice's history very nicely, and I even saw photos of some of my favorite profs in the montages. But earlier in the weekend we were treated to some more detailed remembrances of Rice history, both sublime and ridiculous, through two very interesting videos.

The first one was called "Beyond the Hedges," which refers to the hedge "fencing" around the campus that, at least when I was there, was considered to be a buffer between the idyllic campus and the real world of the rest of Houston. You can see an excerpt from the documentary here. Although I felt that I knew a fair amount about Rice's colorful history, especially since I've been reading the wonderful Rice History Corner blog, I still learned a lot from the video.This documentary focused on the period after the lurid murder case that almost robbed the as-yet-unborn institution of its birthright, which is naturally what most people know about Rice history, if they know anything at all.

So much for the sublime. The next video was all about the famous 1988 prank, when a group of Rice engineering students turned the very large, and very heavy, statue of Rice that sits in the middle of the quad, so that it faced the Library instead of the admin building. There's a picture of it in its temporary new orientation on the left here.

Of course I'd heard of this prank, but wasn't even sure when it happened, much less any other details about it. What a lark the documentary was! I couldn't find a copy of it online, but will continue to look because it was hugely entertaining. However, you can read about it here.

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Of course there was also a football game this weekend, and Rice won. However, the most interesting thing for us was the opponent. It was our own hometown, working-for-tier-one-status UTSA! Judging by the support that the team was given at this road game, I'd say they've made a good start toward the big-time, at least in the category of fan enthusiasm:

Look at all that orange!

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I'll close with some shots of another lightshow venue. We didn't get to see it in action, since it only "turns on" at dawn and dusk, and we were either still in bed or partying at these times of day during our visit. Maybe next time.

It looks pretty awesome even in dormant mode, wouldn't you say? It's called the "Skyspace" and was still under construction during our visit last year for my 40th reunion.

This time, though, we got to walk all around and over it. You can go inside and see a small enclosed space, or walk up some stairs and be in the "balcony." on the left is a picture of Henry down inside, taken while I was up top.

Here's a look at the clear blue Houston sky through the hole in the roof:

...and here's a view from just at the bottom of the installation's hill:

I found a little amusing sidelight (so to speak) as we were leaving the Skyspace and heading back to our car. The large open space (one of the few left on what's becoming a very crowded campus) is ringed by some attractive light fixtures. But their normal operation might possibly interfere with the lightshow. And when you spend that much money (and it looks like an awful lot) on an art installation, you don't want anything to interfere with it.

So inventive Rice engineers came up with the high-tech solution that you see in the light fixture on the right. The foil is on the side of the fixture closest to the Skyspace. Clever, eh?

100th anniversary celebrations, 40th reunions...lots of milestones this weekend, along with lots of fun, lots of visiting and lots of history. Whew! It was also a lot of work!

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I took off from Houston Sunday morning for my annual librarians' meeting in Washington, where I was very remiss in taking pictures. But now that I'm back home for a while, after I rest up from all this activity, I will try to get back to more frequent blogging.

Inside & out at Rice

amazing light fixture in Baker Hall

neat tree reflections in the windows of one of the numerous new science buildings
(perhaps Brockman Hall?)

Backdated Wordless Wednesday: I see the light!

Art [at the] Institute*

I don't think I'm just speaking as a proud alum when I assert that the campus of Rice University (*née Institute) showcases some architectural marvels. We're reminded of the loveliness of its buildings, old and new, every time we visit. And last weekend's gorgeous weather certainly helped (perhaps the one fine weather weekend per year that Houston's allotted?).

The architectural tradition began with the very first building on campus, Lovett Hall, the main administration building now. It's the one whose majestic Sallyport opens on to the main quad that you can see above.

Here's another view of the quad, this photo taken from the sixth floor of the Library. (Most of the tall buildings in the background aren't on campus.)

Pretty nice view, eh? The formal hedges were taller in my day, but they still give the area the classical beauty of a European garden. That being the original idea, to go with the Mediterranean-style architecture. The statue in the center of the quad is that of the University's founder, William Marsh Rice. (His story is much more exciting than that of most university founders, I'd be willing to bet. Take a minute and read the last paragraph of the linked article for a quick summary of the important facts.)

The buildings on either side of Lovett Hall fit in with its style perfectly, even though they were built several decades apart. On the left above is the old Physics Building, almost as old as Lovett. While on the right is Sewall Hall, which was just being built my senior year. This end of the quad is particularly noteworthy for its buildings' beautiful arcades. I couldn't help taking lots of pictures looking down them. Here's one of my favorites, the Physics Building's arcade:

The Library building itself, which you can see through the Sallyport in the picture at the top of the post, is the exception that proves the rule. Built in the late 1940's, it's a pretty ugly structure on the outside. Inside, however, it's a much more attractive space, as well as functioning nicely as a library.

Its non-functional aspects include some quirky and some quite lovely art. For an example of the first type, check out the sculpture made with real books "growing" up the wall in the photo on the left.

Just inside the front door, they make the most of building's soaring ceilings with the lovely sculpture you see below. I took the photo during an "art tour" of the campus that we got up early for last Saturday morning. It was really interesting and gave us an even greater appreciation of the great campus. Our guide assured us that the glass "boats" in the Library's sculpture were of identical sizes. It doesn't look like it, though, does it?

Another stop on the art tour was the Engineering Quad, particularly in front of the Mechanical Lab, one of the oldest buildings on campus. The tall tower is the Campanile (another word, like "Sallyport," that I didn't realize had a broader meaning until after my Rice history of art course!) that gives the school's yearbook its name. But the really cool art in the quad is "45-90-180," three huge blocks of granite positioned at those angles. My photo just shows the 90° one but you can see a panoramic shot of all three here. Although our tour guide wouldn't admit it, these blocks just have to invite midnight clambering by adventurous students.

A smaller, but also 90° structure, is on the other side of campus, outside of Baker Hall (where we attended the Jefferson lecture I mentioned in my last post). It technically isn't a work of art but it's certainly of significance....

...being a fragment of the Berlin wall (that's Henry examining it). A very apt piece of "statuary" since the building next to it is home to the rather famous Baker Institute for Public Policy. (An ancestor of the Baker the Institute is named for—whose politics I might disagree with but who has really put Rice on the map with this organization—was instrumental in getting Willie's (William Marsh Rice's) money for the school as the old boy intended. You can read more of the lurid details here.)

We ended up our art tour in an actual art gallery. It's in Sewall Hall on the main quad and always sports interesting exhibits. The current one is a delightful recreation of a Los Angeles neighborhood. You can read more about it here. This is one of the many photos I took of its quirky, colorful "buildings."

I'll close with a view of the newest sculpture on campus, the sleek, stylistic owl inhabiting a new little garden between the Library and the Chapel. (There's another picture of the owl, with me in it, in my last post.) I was pleased this photo came out so well, highlighting the clever and attractive details of the Chapel's architecture, a good example of the lovely old trees that give so much more shade now than they did 40 years ago, and, of course, the smooth bronze of this newest incarnation of Sammy the Owl.

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I have a lot more pictures that show off various interesting/beautiful/sentimental aspects of the campus. Since I'll be on the road again over Thanksgiving week (it's our first time to be in Colorado in the month of November—we're hoping for enough snow to do some skiing around working on our house up there) I won't have time to do much full-fledged blogging for a while. But I'll pick out some favorite pictures and do a Wordless Wednesday (and possibly some other days, too) post or two when I get a chance.

À la recherche du temps perdu, y'all

Last weekend we attended a college reunion, the number of which I find astonishingly large. How has that much time passed so quickly?!

Old buddies, and even an old favorite professor [we were all somewhat flabbergasted to realize how close to us in age many of these revered figures are], made the visit worthwhile. Plus we spent enough time on the campus that its current incarnation, considerably different from its appearance when we were there, now seems a bit more familiar and less disorienting to us. 

Graduating in 1971 and 1972.5, we left Rice just as it was beginning a phase of amazing expansion and building frenzy. Not to mention the city as a whole, which has also grown and prospered hugely in the years since our graduations. The medical center in particular, whose buildings now somewhat overshadow that side of campus. In our day, only by walking along the southern edge of Rice could you see the buildings beyond. Now architecturally interesting—and gigantic—structures like the Methodist hospital ship on the right, are visible from anywhere.

So the rather sleepy and spacious campus environment that we remember is no more. But the campus that's home to the new generation is in many ways both more lovely and more stimulating. In my next post I'll show you some of the great art and architecture we noticed on our various walks around the area.

But back to homecoming activities. We spent an extra day in Houston this time, in order to take advantage of what continues to make Rice a wonderful place, no matter what the buildings look like. I'm referring to the great faculty and the atmosphere of intellectual challenge that permeates the place. We took in some of the homecoming lectures and enjoyed them thoroughly. From getting a new perspective on the intellectual life of Thomas Jefferson, to learning about how bacteria develop resistance to antibiotics, we almost felt like undergraduates again—with the added benefit of not having to take any tests!

There was also a class of 1971 dinner that was most enjoyable, a general alumni barbque, and, of course, a football game. The game was actually pretty exciting (we even won) but the highlight of Rice football games is always the MOB (Marching Owl Band, the first word of which is rather misleading since they don't do any actual marching).

How many marching bands feature a strings section?

As irreverent as their style is, they still perform the required functions, such as playing the fight song at appropriate moments, the alma mater after the game, and the national anthem before it. Below is a picture during the latter activity, with the flag actually being made to wave when the words refer to that motion:

We finished up the homecoming activities with a look in at a volleyball game. The gym has been refurbished and expanded, of course, since our days on campus, and we wanted to see the changes. Plus that game was also fun and had a good result, a Rice win. (I took the picture at the top of the post in the newly spiffy gym.)

Next up, I'll treat you to some photos of nifty scenes around campus. Including the newest piece of sculpture, the stylistic owl you see below. A friend took this picture after giving me a tour of the—naturally—renovated and expanded library.

But the curving wall behind me in the photo is the outside of the Rice Chapel, which some readers might remember is where Henry and I got married (also a very long time ago). And as I mentioned in the earlier blog post, it is among the few spaces on campus that looks just like it did then. Rather comforting amid all the other ch-ch-changes.

Two-sport weekend...2.0

Heading to Houston for a two-sport mother-daughter weekend is beginning to look like a summer tradition. Readers with long memories might remember our trip last June. Well, schedules aligned favorably again this year and last weekend we were able to save ourselves from the agony of watching the Astros lose two baseball games, which was our original plan. Instead, we got to watch the Dynamo win one!

These fine fireworks were at the baseball game Friday night, and they were certainly the highpoint of the evening. As Chronicle beat writer Zach Levine (a much better writer than the Astros are a baseball team) penned in Saturday's paper:

It's a good thing it was fireworks night. That’s probably the only thing that stood between the gathering of 29,252 and the Minute Maid Park exits as the captive audience was treated to nine of the worst innings of baseball by the home team all year as the Astros lost 11-4 to the Atlanta Braves.

But the fireworks, though spectacular, weren't the only interesting thing about the game. For folks who were seeing their first game of the season, the new incredibly hi-def scoreboard cum video screen was pretty impressive. On the right is the pre-game animation it showed.

And, of course, just being at the ball park is fun. Especially when it's really hot outside and they have the roof closed and the a/c contained. It really is a lovely stadium. Here's our view as the roof was opening after the game for the pyrotechnic display:

But as we headed back to our wonderful lodgings (many thanks to Barbs and Paul for being such great hosts) we knew that our weekend had really only begun.

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After sleeping until an ungodly 10 a.m. the next morning (driving 3½ hours to watch your favorite team get mauled is exhausting work!) we headed out for a full schedule of activities.

First on the agenda was the quirky Orange Show, which I've wanted to visit for years and just never had gotten around to. Reminding us somewhat of the Bishop Castle that we stumbled upon in Colorado several months ago, although on a much smaller scale, it's an eccentric Houstonian's monument to things orange. And things mechanical (-looking). And things musical (it's a concert venue where the setting must upstage a lot of the acts). And just things odd.

Apart from size and setting, another difference between it and the Castle is that the Show is a finished product. Recently re-opened after refurbishment, it has become something of an institution in the middle of the nation's 4th largest city. Rather than a continuing project somewhat isolated in the Rockies.

It's also affiliated with Houston's most concerted effort to out-weird Austin, the famous Art Car Parade of song and story. [We saw it once in pre-blog days; my brother takes it in every year and it would be fun to go again. We'll have to put that on a future Houston calendar.] The art-car sculpture on the right is in the front yard of the house across from the Show.

Here are some more Orange Show photos:

a panorama
Sally taking a sight-seeing break on one of the remarkably comfortable
tractor seats available for viewing shows at the Show

the entrance booth (where they collect the $1 admission) and gift shop

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And now for something completely different, as Monty Python used to say.

Not far from the Orange Show (especially not far in Houston terms) is the Forest Park cemetery, where I learned to drive and where most of my forebears are buried. [When we first moved back to Houston after my father died in 1960, Mom took us out here very frequently. And when I was old enough, but before I got my learner's permit, it was a good place to practice driving and get ready for the more daunting experience of Houston traffic.]

I had felt rather bad about not visiting the site in such a long time, so this was a perfect opportunity. We stopped at a little florist shop across the street and took flowers to the sites of my parents', grandparents', and several aunts' and uncles', graves.

The environment is just as peaceful and nice as I had remembered, although Houston is almost as dry as we are and the vegetation looked a little brown. I'm sure our flowers won't survive long in the heat, but it felt good to make the gestures.

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Since it took us surprisingly less time to get around than we had planned (this hardly ever happens in Houston) and since the Orange Show didn't take nearly as long to see as we thought, we had some extra time on our hands before the weekend's second sporting event was to get underway.

So we decided to head over to my old stomping grounds, the Rice campus, and walk off our large Tex-Mex lunch (a highlight of the trip which I neglected to mention) taking in the sights there. As it turned out, we did some walking, but also spent a refreshing hour recharging our batteries in the pleasant (air conditioned) atmosphere of the new campus pub that you might have seen in my last post.

One of the highlights of the campus ramble was getting to go into the (relatively) new Rice baseball stadium, which I had only seen from afar. [Note to selves: we must come to a college game here next year!]

Reckling Park with the Houston Medical Center beyond the outfield—what a great view!

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Now for the sport number two. A short jaunt to the UH campus and we were surrounded by the sea of orange that is Houston Dynamo soccer. The fans were just as enthusiastic as last year and I was so glad to have found bright orange Dynamo gear for us to wear. [See photo at the top of the post. Thanks to our friend Amy (who met us there with her mom for the game) for taking the picture with Sally's camera.]

Here's a shot of the crowd, celebrating the team's first goal (they ended up winning a very exciting match, 2-1):

The win was a perfect end to a perfectly orange day. Historically, before the Astros were the Astros they were the Colt .45s, and their colors were orange back then, too. So it was really an almost totally orange weekend.

A most cheerful color for a very satisfying and fun trip, in spite of the dismal baseball. Here's hoping the Astros will be in a bit better shape in time for our two-sport excursion next year. Maybe they should bring back the rainbow jerseys, with all that orange?!