by Miles Rochester
Sculptors, art fans and friends gathered on the first floor of Ebert Art Museum last Friday afternoon to display the many sculptures created by students this semester. Inside the showroom, artists mingled with friends, visitors and critics. Gentle conversation filled the air as guests experienced stories being told through sculpture. All the while artists humbly celebrated themselves and their peers for their accomplishments.
If you are like me, an infrequent visitor to the Ebert Art Center, then the transformation of space would have surprised you. Space that was once open was now occupied with blocky platforms raised at various levels, bringing figurines, pottery and other works closer to eye level. The scattered platforms created a maze that guided the exhibit, ensuring that viewers would lose track of time and explore all the offered art.
“I was told there would be food,” one student joked with a small group of friends while navigating the showroom.The group chuckled at the remark and despite dinner time approaching, the group seemed unbothered by the lack of snacks. They chose instead to take advantage of the tranquility that was curated in the venue; a feeling usually forgotten by students as they face the brunt of a long semester.
It was a liberated environment and refreshing change of scenery.
In touring the exhibit, I was inspired by the diverse range of creations and the freedom that sculptors displayed in sharing personal works. All the sculptures were impressive, and many of them commanded attention, but two pieces resonated with me, highlighting my short stay in Ebert.
In a sculpture titled “21,” artist Laura Sevilla ’24 tells a story with her description label.
“At age eight I would stick my hands inches from my parents’ faces gesturing about how I would become the NYC girl of my dreams in college. I would Wear low-waisted jeans and be a journalism major at NYU, dangerously smoke a cigarette just once. I was a Chicagoan, and a Chicago pizza enthusiast, but I bet I could switch-no problem. I would be best friends with an adorable family that owned a shop boasting ‘the best New York slice’ and read a mysterious hot girl book in the corner.”
Sevilla’s label alongside her sculpture would have pleased Jean-Paul Sarte and Picasso alike, as through her prose, fragments of her philosophy were expressed, while her art allowed for free and open interpretation.
In reflecting on her first art show, Sevilla admitted that she felt the pressure of being judged for her work
“It’s terrifying to be perceived by people in general, so putting out art that’s personal feels like a huge deal. I always worry that someone will find my art ‘fake’ or think I’m trying too hard when it’s actually a massive part of an incredibly vulnerable process.”
This vulnerability was thematic of the exhibit, with students sharing varying levels of identity through their labels and sculptures.
Troy Johnson ’24 exemplified mixing personality, identity and art explaining that “what really speaks to me about this project [her sculpture] is how much subtle personality is in it”.
The personality of Johnson’s own installment was anything but subtle, as it was too large and circular to be displayed on the cubist pedestals that carried the work of her peers. Johnson’s work instead floated on a dimly lit off-white wall, allowing for the depth of the sculpture and colored details to pop.
In her description label, Johnson cites Knives Out as a source of inspiration, writing, “I wanted to create a sculpture that resembled the knife sculpture in the movie. However, instead of using knives, I wanted to use something that held more meaning to me. I decided to go with scissors as I use them frequently throughout my hair journey.”
If you ever have the chance to attend an arts show at the College of Wooster, expect to be welcomed into the Ebert Arts Center and wowed by the loud talents of fellow students and artists.
