WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

Student reactions to Art at Dartmouth continue to vary as interestingly as ever. The most startling, however, is that of complete indifference observed every once in a while: the sight of men, heads down, who enter the Reserve Book Room from the North Main Street side, pick up a book at the desk, and exit from the room without once pausing to note the frescoes at all.

This "what fresco?" attitude is becoming less frequent of late, and a more serious one is taking its place. This, unfortunately, shows only too well the effect of the numerous explanations and critiques issued by the Art Department and the student publications. The beauty or impressiveness or strength as you will of the work is completely forgotten iri the quest for the meaning of each panel or gesture. It seems to be desperately necessary to catalogue and pigeon-hole living art before the work can be enjoyed with an easy conscience.

Yet, most surprising of all, to us, is the complacence with which the recently completed East Wing has been viewed. Representing as it does indictments of the machine system, American imperialism, American collegiate education, modern war, and modern religion, it is absolutely incredible that no protesting voice has publicly been raised to date. If we reject as implausible the theory that all of Dartmouth considers Mr. Orozco's criticisms as perfectly just, we have then apathy with a vengeance, a more formidable obstacle to social change than all the legislation in the world.

Concrete facts like that may give TheJunto, which has set about to interest the undergraduates at large in esthetics and politics, etc., a vague idea of what it has to face in its noble work.