University of Maryland
Fraternal Bonds are Eternal Bonds
October 10, 2010
by David Krell
david@davidkrell.com
Time is relentless, punishing, and unforgiving.
But this weekend, I had the opportunity to defeat time, albeit just for a few bright, shining moments.
On this date – 10/10/10 – Tau Epsilon Phi celebrates its 100th birthday. As a member of the Tau Beta chapter at the University of Maryland, I am in Las Vegas with 40-plus of my fraternity brothers winding down the fraternity’s centennial with an extended weekend reunion.
I reconnected with fraternity brothers whom I have not seen, by and large, since the Reagan administration. Some of us have kept in touch. Others, not so much.
We have changed. For some of us, for example, the hair is grayer, fading, or non-existent.
Then again, not so much has changed. Within seconds, our familiar rhythms, cadences, and interactions return from a time known as Before.
Before marriages.
Before divorces.
Before children.
Before clients, deadlines, and mortgages.
Before job changes, layoffs, and startups.
Before reality challenged our hopes, dreams, and goals by exclaiming with authority, “College was college. But the real world demands a price. Sometimes that price will be financial. Sometimes it will be emotional. Are you ready to pay the price?”
Through pictures and videotape shot during the Stone Age of home video, we sliced the prism of time by seeing ourselves as we were then. In an omnipresent, digitized slide show running on a flat-screen television in our hospitality suite, we see captured moments that resurrect the ghosts of who we were.
To view the slide show is to walk through a time warp to an era of the late 1980s when Madonna ruled as the “It Girl” of controversial entertainment, FOX was a nascent television network instead of a broadcasting powerhouse, and terrorism on American soil was an “it can’t happen here” topic.
We were, quite simply, boys evolving into men. In the fraternity, we learned how to run for elective office, master responsibility, and become decision makers. We learned how to budget, manage, and distribute tens of thousands of dollars to pay for formal events, house parties, and food. We learned how to debate, discuss, and resolve issues confronting our organization – increasing dues payments, creating rules and consequences regarding living in the fraternity house, selecting potential sorority partners for Fall’s Homecoming Week and Spring’s Greek Week.
For me, I learned tangible lessons about communicating verbally and in writing. Because I liked communications, I won an election for Corresponding Secretary. In that position, I kept the fraternity informed of community affairs that affected our off-campus house. I also filled in for the Scribe on a few occasions. The Scribe took notes furiously during our Monday night meetings to preserve a record of motions, votes, and news.
From brothers who knew how to dominate a room with projection, persuasiveness, and personality, I learned verbal skills that are invaluable when I conduct communications classes, workshops, and seminars.
Different people emerged to take on roles. Those who were good managers became the President and the Kitchen Steward. Those who were good with money became the Treasurer and the Bursar. And those who were good leaders became the Pledge Trainer and the Rush Chairman.
We also made contributions to the fraternity without defined roles. For example, a brother who was good with his hands built lofts for the rooms. I could type fast, so I frequently typed papers for brothers based on their dictation using a now-forgotten technology called the typewriter. No spell check, there. Just Liquid Paper and do-overs.
We were diverse, yet united. Different, yet similar. And through it all, a brotherhood formed that the tentacles of time cannot erase, fade, or even blot.
david@davidkrell.com
Time is relentless, punishing, and unforgiving.
But this weekend, I had the opportunity to defeat time, albeit just for a few bright, shining moments.
On this date – 10/10/10 – Tau Epsilon Phi celebrates its 100th birthday. As a member of the Tau Beta chapter at the University of Maryland, I am in Las Vegas with 40-plus of my fraternity brothers winding down the fraternity’s centennial with an extended weekend reunion.
I reconnected with fraternity brothers whom I have not seen, by and large, since the Reagan administration. Some of us have kept in touch. Others, not so much.
We have changed. For some of us, for example, the hair is grayer, fading, or non-existent.
Then again, not so much has changed. Within seconds, our familiar rhythms, cadences, and interactions return from a time known as Before.
Before marriages.
Before divorces.
Before children.
Before clients, deadlines, and mortgages.
Before job changes, layoffs, and startups.
Before reality challenged our hopes, dreams, and goals by exclaiming with authority, “College was college. But the real world demands a price. Sometimes that price will be financial. Sometimes it will be emotional. Are you ready to pay the price?”
Through pictures and videotape shot during the Stone Age of home video, we sliced the prism of time by seeing ourselves as we were then. In an omnipresent, digitized slide show running on a flat-screen television in our hospitality suite, we see captured moments that resurrect the ghosts of who we were.
To view the slide show is to walk through a time warp to an era of the late 1980s when Madonna ruled as the “It Girl” of controversial entertainment, FOX was a nascent television network instead of a broadcasting powerhouse, and terrorism on American soil was an “it can’t happen here” topic.
We were, quite simply, boys evolving into men. In the fraternity, we learned how to run for elective office, master responsibility, and become decision makers. We learned how to budget, manage, and distribute tens of thousands of dollars to pay for formal events, house parties, and food. We learned how to debate, discuss, and resolve issues confronting our organization – increasing dues payments, creating rules and consequences regarding living in the fraternity house, selecting potential sorority partners for Fall’s Homecoming Week and Spring’s Greek Week.
For me, I learned tangible lessons about communicating verbally and in writing. Because I liked communications, I won an election for Corresponding Secretary. In that position, I kept the fraternity informed of community affairs that affected our off-campus house. I also filled in for the Scribe on a few occasions. The Scribe took notes furiously during our Monday night meetings to preserve a record of motions, votes, and news.
From brothers who knew how to dominate a room with projection, persuasiveness, and personality, I learned verbal skills that are invaluable when I conduct communications classes, workshops, and seminars.
Different people emerged to take on roles. Those who were good managers became the President and the Kitchen Steward. Those who were good with money became the Treasurer and the Bursar. And those who were good leaders became the Pledge Trainer and the Rush Chairman.
We also made contributions to the fraternity without defined roles. For example, a brother who was good with his hands built lofts for the rooms. I could type fast, so I frequently typed papers for brothers based on their dictation using a now-forgotten technology called the typewriter. No spell check, there. Just Liquid Paper and do-overs.
We were diverse, yet united. Different, yet similar. And through it all, a brotherhood formed that the tentacles of time cannot erase, fade, or even blot.
What Should I Write About?
September 21, 2010
by David Krell
david@davidkrell.com
Frequently, I meet attorneys at conferences, workshops, and seminars who want to know more about writing. How do I get published? Where should I look to get published? What should I write about?
The first two questions can be answered generally with relationship building, luck, and, oh yeah, knowing how to write effectively. I cover specifics in consulting sessions or speaking appearances.
I can answer the third question with a story. My latest article has just been published in the Summer 2010 issue of the New York State Bar Association’s Entertainment, Arts and Sports Law Journal. The article -- Of Law and Labatut: The Story of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.
I cover the legislation authorizing the memorial and its subsequent enhancements, the history behind the origin of the Vietnam War, and the popular culture responses to America’s involvement in Southeast Asia. My inspiration actually came from a paper I wrote in college for Architecture 170, a class taught by Brian Kelly at the University of Maryland, College Park. We had an assignment to analyze a monument or memorial in the Washington, D.C. area according to the paradigm in Jean Labatut’s article Monuments and Memorials.
When I came across the paper last year, I decided to use it as a basis for an article covering the legal, historical, and artistic angles of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.
So, if you’re looking for a topic, do some Fall Cleaning! That paper you wrote as a sophomore for your Political Science class may just be a topic or springboard for a law review or bar association article.
david@davidkrell.com
Frequently, I meet attorneys at conferences, workshops, and seminars who want to know more about writing. How do I get published? Where should I look to get published? What should I write about?
The first two questions can be answered generally with relationship building, luck, and, oh yeah, knowing how to write effectively. I cover specifics in consulting sessions or speaking appearances.
I can answer the third question with a story. My latest article has just been published in the Summer 2010 issue of the New York State Bar Association’s Entertainment, Arts and Sports Law Journal. The article -- Of Law and Labatut: The Story of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.
I cover the legislation authorizing the memorial and its subsequent enhancements, the history behind the origin of the Vietnam War, and the popular culture responses to America’s involvement in Southeast Asia. My inspiration actually came from a paper I wrote in college for Architecture 170, a class taught by Brian Kelly at the University of Maryland, College Park. We had an assignment to analyze a monument or memorial in the Washington, D.C. area according to the paradigm in Jean Labatut’s article Monuments and Memorials.
When I came across the paper last year, I decided to use it as a basis for an article covering the legal, historical, and artistic angles of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.
So, if you’re looking for a topic, do some Fall Cleaning! That paper you wrote as a sophomore for your Political Science class may just be a topic or springboard for a law review or bar association article.
Monuments and Memorials
May 25, 2009
by David Krell
david@davidkrell.com
The following is an edited version of a paper I wrote for Architecture 170, a class I took in the Fall of 1987 at the University of Maryland. Brian Kelly taught the class.
The paper analyzes the Vietnam Veterans Memorial within the paradigm dictated by Jean Labatut in the article Monuments and Memorials.
My edits cleaned up the grammar, clarified thoughts, and streamlined the presentation by breaking up longer paragraphs into numerous shorter ones.
The basic construct, theme, and content remains the same.
Because today is Memorial Day, posting the paper seems appropriate.
In his article Monuments and Memorials, Jean Labatut expresses many theories on the subject of monuments and memorials.
The function of monuments and memorials concerning human needs.
Universality of art.
Scale of monuments and memorials.
Quality of the structure from an architectural standpoint.
Feelings, emotions, and thoughts of the observer.
The Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C. supports the theories presented in Monuments and Memorials.
Located in Constitution Gardens, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial consists of two parts.
The first part is the polished black granite wall designed by Maya Ying Lin. The wall is V-shaped with one arm pointing to the Lincoln Memorial and the other arm pointing to the Washington Monument.
The names of soldiers dead or Missing In Action are inscribed on the wall.
The second part is Frederick Hart's sculpture of three soldiers. Seemingly, the soldiers are searching the wall for their names or the names of comrades.
The wall was dedicated in the Fall of 1982. The sculpture, two years later.
Labatut states, As landmarks and signposts, memorials and monuments answer a specific human need and demand.
To research Labatut's theory, I asked a Vietnam War veteran what the wall represents to him. He said that America finally understood and appreciated the veterans. Specifically, the men whose names were on the wall got their just recognition. The veteran felt that the Vietnam Veterans Memorial satisfies a need to recognize the people who gave their time and sometimes their lives for their country.
The memorial also fulfills the need to know that the soldiers who died did not do so in vain.
The Washington Monument and Lincoln Memorial are two structures signifying our rights, liberties, and freedoms as Americans. Their reflections trigger a thoughtful pause so we can think about the fragility of those rights, liberties, and freedoms along with the their collective consequent cost in blood, treasure, and emotion.
Labatut also emphasizes the universality of art. [M]emorials and monuments of the past illustrate the fact that art is a universal language. Words, customs, methods of reasoning, and techniques may vary, but art is the easiest channel for common understanding; through the arts we can become easily acquainted with other times and other peoples and with other people in our own time.
Monuments and memorials help the observer gain a perspective that can not be found in books. The appreciation of Thomas Jefferson's brilliance is enhanced by a visit to the Jefferson Memorial where one can read his words in the memorial's majestic setting.
Similarly, one can not help but be moved when reading the names and touching their engravings on the wall at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. More than 55,000 names adorn the wall. The impact is massive. An explanation in words does not do it justice. Art is the conduit for that impact.
Scale plays a two-fold role in the design of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.
First, the scale helps convey the message of the monument or memorial while making the observer feel as though he or she is in the center of it. According to Labatut, The small visible world at the scale of man's range of visibility must be complemented by psychological qualities in order to reach the size of a universe of which every observer will be the center. This is true of any architectural air space, but it is especially true of architectural air spaces destined to form memorials and monuments. In art in general, and particularly in the composition of memorials and monuments, the exactitude of the visual message depends on the correction or creation of optical illusions.
The Vietnam Veterans Memorial supports Labatut's thesis concerning a small visible world in two ways.
First, the wall creates an optical illusion that the names are seemingly infinite no matter where you stand at the wall.
Second, the wall is massive. An observer feels as though he or she is alone, though always connected with the names on the wall.
Labatut also mentions Greatness vs. Size. He believes that the former is not dependent on the latter.
Their greatness is measurable not in inches, feet, or miles but by their radiating effect...Man's needs and demands do not include dimensions but they do include the effect produced by dimensions.
If one compares the Vietnam Veterans Memorial to the other monuments and memorials in Washington, D.C., a definite contrast emerges.
The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is not towering like the Washington Monument nor is it larger-than-life like the Lincoln Memorial. The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is effective because it is not overpowering. Rather, the memorial has a lifelike quality that creates a connection between it and the observer.
Greatness vs. Heaviness parallels Greatness vs. Size in Labatut's paradigm.
The greatness of memorials and monuments does not depend on the expression of heaviness, as has been and still is too often the case. Like other architectural compositions, the memorials and monuments of today and tomorrow should give the observer an impression of strength without heaviness. For memorials and monuments do not need the exaggerated size and heaviness of those of the past.
Again, although the Vietnam Veterans Memorial is not overpowering, it is still effective. It does not have what Labatut calls a false heaviness; yet, the life size and lightness make the memorial easier to appreciate. Indeed, it may be overwhelming at first sight without being overpowering.
Labatut also mentions two minor points -- illumination and durability of a monument or memorial.
The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is illuminated. However, the memorial has a graveyard-like quality at night. With more than 55,000 names staring back, I felt an immediate chill. There is no need for illumination during the day because the memorial is in an open space.
Concerning durability, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial was the most visited monument or memorial in its first five years of existence. The legacy of popularity, curiosity, and urgency continues today.
The message of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial is to honor the sacrifice of the Vietnam veterans without fanfare and without overwhelming the public.
Granted, it is not like other memorials or monuments.
It is not tall, white, towering, or larger-than-life.
It is life-size, made of black granite, and subterranean.
Because one arm points to the Washington Monument and the other arm points to the Lincoln Memorial, and because these structures are reflected in the wall's surface, the message is reinforced. The veterans of the Vietnam War were not larger-than-life. They were the boys-next-door. But they fought for the ideals planted by Lincoln, Jefferson, Washington, and other great American leaders -- freedom and liberty.
(In 1993, the Vietnam Women's Memorial was dedicated. It depicts three women -- Hope, Faith, Charity -- tending to a wounded solider. Most women who served in the Vietnam War were nurses. In 2004, a plaque was dedicated by the statue of the three soldiers to honor soldiers who died after the Vietnam War because of injuries sustained during their wartime service.)
david@davidkrell.com
The following is an edited version of a paper I wrote for Architecture 170, a class I took in the Fall of 1987 at the University of Maryland. Brian Kelly taught the class.
The paper analyzes the Vietnam Veterans Memorial within the paradigm dictated by Jean Labatut in the article Monuments and Memorials.
My edits cleaned up the grammar, clarified thoughts, and streamlined the presentation by breaking up longer paragraphs into numerous shorter ones.
The basic construct, theme, and content remains the same.
Because today is Memorial Day, posting the paper seems appropriate.
In his article Monuments and Memorials, Jean Labatut expresses many theories on the subject of monuments and memorials.
The function of monuments and memorials concerning human needs.
Universality of art.
Scale of monuments and memorials.
Quality of the structure from an architectural standpoint.
Feelings, emotions, and thoughts of the observer.
The Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C. supports the theories presented in Monuments and Memorials.
Located in Constitution Gardens, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial consists of two parts.
The first part is the polished black granite wall designed by Maya Ying Lin. The wall is V-shaped with one arm pointing to the Lincoln Memorial and the other arm pointing to the Washington Monument.
The names of soldiers dead or Missing In Action are inscribed on the wall.
The second part is Frederick Hart's sculpture of three soldiers. Seemingly, the soldiers are searching the wall for their names or the names of comrades.
The wall was dedicated in the Fall of 1982. The sculpture, two years later.
Labatut states, As landmarks and signposts, memorials and monuments answer a specific human need and demand.
To research Labatut's theory, I asked a Vietnam War veteran what the wall represents to him. He said that America finally understood and appreciated the veterans. Specifically, the men whose names were on the wall got their just recognition. The veteran felt that the Vietnam Veterans Memorial satisfies a need to recognize the people who gave their time and sometimes their lives for their country.
The memorial also fulfills the need to know that the soldiers who died did not do so in vain.
The Washington Monument and Lincoln Memorial are two structures signifying our rights, liberties, and freedoms as Americans. Their reflections trigger a thoughtful pause so we can think about the fragility of those rights, liberties, and freedoms along with the their collective consequent cost in blood, treasure, and emotion.
Labatut also emphasizes the universality of art. [M]emorials and monuments of the past illustrate the fact that art is a universal language. Words, customs, methods of reasoning, and techniques may vary, but art is the easiest channel for common understanding; through the arts we can become easily acquainted with other times and other peoples and with other people in our own time.
Monuments and memorials help the observer gain a perspective that can not be found in books. The appreciation of Thomas Jefferson's brilliance is enhanced by a visit to the Jefferson Memorial where one can read his words in the memorial's majestic setting.
Similarly, one can not help but be moved when reading the names and touching their engravings on the wall at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. More than 55,000 names adorn the wall. The impact is massive. An explanation in words does not do it justice. Art is the conduit for that impact.
Scale plays a two-fold role in the design of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.
First, the scale helps convey the message of the monument or memorial while making the observer feel as though he or she is in the center of it. According to Labatut, The small visible world at the scale of man's range of visibility must be complemented by psychological qualities in order to reach the size of a universe of which every observer will be the center. This is true of any architectural air space, but it is especially true of architectural air spaces destined to form memorials and monuments. In art in general, and particularly in the composition of memorials and monuments, the exactitude of the visual message depends on the correction or creation of optical illusions.
The Vietnam Veterans Memorial supports Labatut's thesis concerning a small visible world in two ways.
First, the wall creates an optical illusion that the names are seemingly infinite no matter where you stand at the wall.
Second, the wall is massive. An observer feels as though he or she is alone, though always connected with the names on the wall.
Labatut also mentions Greatness vs. Size. He believes that the former is not dependent on the latter.
Their greatness is measurable not in inches, feet, or miles but by their radiating effect...Man's needs and demands do not include dimensions but they do include the effect produced by dimensions.
If one compares the Vietnam Veterans Memorial to the other monuments and memorials in Washington, D.C., a definite contrast emerges.
The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is not towering like the Washington Monument nor is it larger-than-life like the Lincoln Memorial. The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is effective because it is not overpowering. Rather, the memorial has a lifelike quality that creates a connection between it and the observer.
Greatness vs. Heaviness parallels Greatness vs. Size in Labatut's paradigm.
The greatness of memorials and monuments does not depend on the expression of heaviness, as has been and still is too often the case. Like other architectural compositions, the memorials and monuments of today and tomorrow should give the observer an impression of strength without heaviness. For memorials and monuments do not need the exaggerated size and heaviness of those of the past.
Again, although the Vietnam Veterans Memorial is not overpowering, it is still effective. It does not have what Labatut calls a false heaviness; yet, the life size and lightness make the memorial easier to appreciate. Indeed, it may be overwhelming at first sight without being overpowering.
Labatut also mentions two minor points -- illumination and durability of a monument or memorial.
The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is illuminated. However, the memorial has a graveyard-like quality at night. With more than 55,000 names staring back, I felt an immediate chill. There is no need for illumination during the day because the memorial is in an open space.
Concerning durability, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial was the most visited monument or memorial in its first five years of existence. The legacy of popularity, curiosity, and urgency continues today.
The message of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial is to honor the sacrifice of the Vietnam veterans without fanfare and without overwhelming the public.
Granted, it is not like other memorials or monuments.
It is not tall, white, towering, or larger-than-life.
It is life-size, made of black granite, and subterranean.
Because one arm points to the Washington Monument and the other arm points to the Lincoln Memorial, and because these structures are reflected in the wall's surface, the message is reinforced. The veterans of the Vietnam War were not larger-than-life. They were the boys-next-door. But they fought for the ideals planted by Lincoln, Jefferson, Washington, and other great American leaders -- freedom and liberty.
(In 1993, the Vietnam Women's Memorial was dedicated. It depicts three women -- Hope, Faith, Charity -- tending to a wounded solider. Most women who served in the Vietnam War were nurses. In 2004, a plaque was dedicated by the statue of the three soldiers to honor soldiers who died after the Vietnam War because of injuries sustained during their wartime service.)