Alumni College Retrospective

An "inside" view of what it was like in 1982 and is likely to be for those signed up for "War and Peace" this summer

"O brave new world that has such people in't."

The voice is that of the overprotected Miranda in Shakespeare's most mature play, The Tempest. But the enthusiastic speaker could have been any one of the 265 participants in Dartmouth's 19th Alumni College last summer.

Carrying the literary metaphor a bit further, might not Will Shakespeare have entitled this august intellectual extravaganza "A Midsummer (Fort) Night's Mental Machination"? Surely Woody Allen would have dubbed it "Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About the Renaissance But Were Afraid You Had Forgotten."

The layout on the playbill would have read: Produced by Steven L. Calvert; Directed by David S. Kastan. Starring: Joy Kenseth, P. David Lagomarsino, and Nancy Vickers. Also starring, in alphabetical order: Richard Corum, Laurence J. Davies, Bruce Duncan, Mark J. Harmon, Betty-Ann Heistad, Grace Hill, Philip Holland, John McGavin, Donald E. Pease Jr., Stanley D. Rosenberg, Peter Saccio, Priscilla F. Sears, James Shapiro, William E. Slesnick, and George F. Theriault. And a cast of hundreds. With a cameo appearance by David T. McLaughlin, as himself.

The curtain would rise as the entire cast, dressed in summer print dresses and cord suits, mingles joyfully in a flower-decked hall, the Top of the Hop. Enter left, Judy and David McLaughlin, the president and his lady. They wander through the nametagged throng, some of whom they know and many of whom know each other 67 per cent of them have attended previous Alumni Colleges. The scene ends as the crowd follows a tartan-clad bagpiper across the freshly rain-washed Green and into the candlelit Thayer Hall for the evening banquet.

Were a libretto issued on the longest continually running Alumni College in the country, it might summarize the history thusly: In Boston, on a 1913 winter evening, a group of Dartmouth graduates have met for dinner. Following their brandies, a letter is read from President Emeritus William Jewett Tucker. He closes with a toast . . . "The College of today, younger by the years which make us older, rich in the wealth of the new knowledge, may we learn to renew our intellectual life in hers." Steven Calvert '68, director of alumni continuing education and executive director of Alumni College, uses that apt quote on his official stationery!

With the torch of the idea passed on to "Hoppy," the eleventh and well-loved president, action was taken. In his inaugural address, Ernest Martin Hopkins remarked, "Is it [the College] not logically compelled to search for some method of giving access to the (worthwhile) influence to its graduates in their subsequent years? If only it can establish the procedure by which it can periodically throughout their years give them opportunity to replenish their intellectual reserves." As an early way of implementing that idea, a series of lectures began in Manchester, N.H., in the winter of 1918—19- They were open to Dartmouth alumni and others, setting a precedent still carried up to 1982, when Alumni College had a 39 per cent non-Dartmouth enrollment. There was success even at the beginning . . . the ManchesterUnion in an editorial said, "A wonderfully good start has been made on a system of college extension work." Efforts at continuing education took a great step forward in June 1937 with the inauguration of "Hanover Holiday" at Commencement time. That program of lectures for alumni continued for the next 25 years.

The twelfth president of the College, John Sloan Dickey, "that rare combination of the dreamer and practical man of the world," instigated the "modern Dart mouth Alumni College in the summer of 1964. He had encouraged Professor James Cusick and then-associate secretary of the College J. Michael McGean '49 to design a format. It is the morning lectures followed by smaller discussion groups, the quasilazy afternoon, comradely dining preceding some selected evening performance that composes the present format of DAC.

The libretto might continue with biographies of the cast, beginning with the Academic Director, David Kastan, who served in that capacity for the first time last year. The Phi Beta Kappa Princetonian continued his education to the master's and doctorate levels at the University of Chicago. Kastan is an elegantly elongated figure of a man, almost El Grecoesque in his distance-runner physique. His physical wiriness complements the quicksilver mind with which he led the students through that age of bursting genius called the Renaissance. He compared that period of growth to a liberal arts education, "balancing human possibility with human limitations, avoiding both the optimism which cannot be sustained and the cynicism which leads nowhere. What, for me, is the excitement of the Renaissance is the coming to grips with the realistic but rich sense of the human possibility."

Joy Kenseth, who has taught art history at Dartmouth for seven years, is a renaissance woman . . . photographer, artist, author, traveler. In ruffled blouse and sling-backed pumps, she projects a delicate femininity which contrasts with her earthy laugh and robust sense of humor. Equipped with a precise and prodigious artistic vocabulary, she has earned a Ph.D. from Harvard. Her teaching philosophy: "I object to taking works of art and making them illustrate an idea, forcing them into a role of illustration. I would much prefer to begin with the works of art and show how ideas evolve out of them."

For all the Americanism of his dress, verging on the "preppy," David Lagomarsino emits the courtliness of a Latin man. Even his office is sleekly Spanish in ambience black file cabinets, ebony-framed French sonnets. His jaw is square, his chest is square, his haircut is "square"; there are kindly, perceptive eyes behind heavy, tortoise-shell eyeglasses. Neatly packaged in academic tweed, buttondowns, and even bucks on occasion, he had the chore of opening the morning lectures "a time," he confesses, "when my biorhythms rhythms are all askew." One would never guess that, however, for once he stood at the podium, his full-throated voice propelled clarion explanations of complicated historical facts. He was methodical in his presentations, but never dull clear and concise with touches of hilarity.

To Nancy Vickers, fourth starring member of the cast, fell the awesome task of explaining the rascally Rabelais and other literary works of the time. An assistant professor of French and Italian, as well as Comparative Literature, she took her Ph.D. at Yale following undergraduate years at Mt. Holyoke. Vickers has a mind that speeds as effortlessly as the French Metro system! With a penchant for caftan dressing, she would stride to the lectern with a competent, "take-charge" air. She softens the competence and makes accessible her brilliance with her comfortableness and hearty laughter. Her mien is cheerful, and there is an almost child-like evenness in her gaze. Soundly prepared, she delivers vast stores of knowledge in round, precise diction. She admittedly revels "in a severely academic atmosphere such as the Renaissance." She muses, "Perhaps because I am severely academic," with a grin.

While each of the stars gave impressive performances, the real strength of the production lay in their interaction. Lagomarsino commented, "When Kastan approached me about this over a year ago, I just blanched! The thought of the four of us taking four completely different approaches to the Renaissance and cramming them into two weeks ... I thought it was a crazy thing to do! As far as I was concerned, the Renaissance, with a capital "R," didn't even exist! I knew it was going to be extremely hard work, and I was right. But it turned out that even the planning of it proved to be fun we fed off each other's enthusiasms and ideas, and we got something going." He played the "straight man," setting up lectures to outline political, economic, and social occurrences, thereby permitting the literary and artistic threads to be woven. Nancy Vickers described the early winter meeting of the four principals . . . that first act of putting together ideas and selecting a concrete reading list: "Each of us narrowed it down to two books per discipline and then we just kicked around why those books should be the texts. It wasn't long before we were truly excited about the subject. After all, it is that period, which David insists on calling Early Modern rather than Renaissance, that forms the foundations of certain economic and political realities we are still living with today."

The supporting cast was equally impressive. In that meticulous planning which marks the annual Alumni College, each student is assigned to a group and each group is assigned to one of the 16 discussion leaders. Every two days the leaders rotate, and after four days the group disbands and students form new groups. This assures maximum interplay with maximum minds. And, in a stroke of pedagogical genius, it has been decreed, since the earliest days, that husbands and wives attend different groups.

As discussion leaders, the professors must shift gears. Accustomed to a youthful student audience, they must, during DAC days, become first a part of the company who listen to the lectures and then play the role of prompters, pulling ideas from their discussion groups. And their groups are composed of educated, worldly, inquisitive peers. George Theriault '33 summarized it this way: "Before class one morning I began thinking, 'What does the experience of the people meeting with me represent?' And figuring the average age in that particular assembly to be 55 with 16 participants, that equalled two and a quarter million hours of experience! That's a lot of living! From different walks of life, different careers, different parts of the country; it was fascinating to see where they were coming from, as the kids say."

Charles Wood, who first became associated ated with Alumni College in 1967 and in ten years of association has served as both lecturer and discussion leader, remarked, "I enjoyed both. Some professors might find constraints being a lecturer without being a discussion leader, or vice versa. To reflect aloud on someone else's lecture in, perhaps, a totally foreign field . . . that's a bit scary. But it is also exhilarating."

In polling the professors as to the differences between teaching a mature vs. an undergraduate assembly, there was a consensus about the seriousness of purpose in the DAC. "Intellectual curiosity" was the most-mentioned characteristic, "enthusiasm" was another. Kenseth commented that while Alumni College participants were challenging, and even persistent in their questions, they were "a grateful audience, full of good will . . . you could just feel it each time you stood before them." David Kastan, who is a specialist on Renaissance England and on Shakespeare, served as chairman of the Committee on Undergraduate Life. "The student audience of, say, 18 to 21 is very bright, very exciting," he commented, "but they do not know enough about themselves or the world to appreciate its richness. The Alumni College audience is one of people who have lived who have experienced emotions and situations which for the undergraduate are intellectual, abstract. For example, when I discuss, in The Tempest, Prospero's uneasiness in confessing to his daughter Miranda how, in a sense, he is standing before her in judgment. . . well, the Dartmouth undergrad has no trouble in grasping this dramatically, but none of them has ever had to stand as a parent before a child. This audience knew how brutally painful that can be." He continued with his thought; "Keats talked about the actions of the mind having to beat from the pulse, and this audience, its actions must beat from the pulse! Undergraduates, they're still in the head."

Dr. John McGavin of Edinburgh, Scotland, commented on the sense of commitment which he always finds in adult education. "More intense than that of the undergraduate. I wouldn't want to make a straight distinction between the university and the adult mind. Where I find the difference is in the sense of seriousness, the dedication with which the older student approaches his work." Laurence Davies, another visiting professor from the United Kingdom, remarked about teaching at Alumni College." I find it a delight! In keeping the interest of the more mature mind, one can appeal to their wider range of experience. One of the great attractions, for me, is dealing with such a heterogeneous group. I was going to say that the one thing everyone has in common is a connection to Dartmouth, and for the most part that is true. But I have talked with some folks who have come here simply on the strength of the reputation this program has, the fact that it is enterprising and intellectually energetic."

Leaping to the other side of the footlights lights in this midsummer production entitled Alumni College, one hears releases such as these . . . "It's a hell of a lot more fun to go to school as a grownup!" "We're here to learn, to share, and the delightful informality we find in the professors: it's a delight!" "Ah, it's great to be back home in Hanover again!" "Being on campus with the young people makes it a real college experience. When we started coming here years ago, the students were on vacation. Now we can talk with them in the library or standing in line at Thayer, and that's great!" "Ooh, and the food! Man is prone to sin and somehow or other, the more there is (food, not sin) spread out before us, the more we sample. I fear that one unhappy result of DAC will be that not only have our minds expanded, but our waistlines as well."

Queried specifically about 1982's academic theme, here is a sampling of the reviews! Professor Howard Scarrow, a parent of two Dartmouth students, who has attended five DAC's: "My wife and I got more from this academic subject than from the more reflective themes we've had in the past. I'm smiling to myself recalling the first year Bob McGrath took over as academic director. In a question and answer period, someone bemoaned the fact that the program (The Napoleonic Era: Emergence of the Modern World) was so severely academic. McGrath's quasi-facetious reply was something like this: 'I know some of you simply want to sit around and ask, "Now that I'm so rich, why am I so unhappy?" but we really don't want to discuss that. My perception of Alumni College is a time to do some intellectual, substantive digging.' And that's what he has made it. I think we now have a group who are really into scholarly subjects." Scarrow added, "I teach political science at the State University, Stony Brook, New York, and I must say, as a fellow professor I was delighted with the gorgeous lecturers this time. I recognize the professorial techniques they are using . . . parenthetical remarks, visual displays . . . their methodology is flawless." Jean Deevy, whose husband and three sons graduated from Dartmouth and who has attended DAC for eight years, made particular mention of the "equal division between male and female lecturers this year. Both hold tneir own in terms of talent and expertise, and they certainly interact dynamically. They are particularly cohesive; they share an interest in this time in history, and it comes across.''

Two participants compared the Dartmouth experiment in adult learning to others. Jerome Siegel Jr. of Selma, Alabama, came at the invitation of his brother-in-law, Alvin Gutman '40. "Mary Bert's and Vin's continuing enthusiasm over the past seven years intrigued me. When I attended a similar course at my alma mater (Harvard), I found it excellent, great talents as lecturers. But the spirit of cooperation between faculty and participants was missing. Here at Dartmouth, the interest on the part of the professors seems to carry over from the lecture hall and the classroom, into the dining room." Dr. George Sackett '22 earlier this summer attended Johns Hopkins eighth alumni college, held each year on St. Mary's campus. The subject was the Chesapeake Bay, and "comparing the two programs is an 'apple and an orange' exercise. Johns Hopkins was a much smaller group, and more of a nature experience. Now, returning to Dartmouth, I feel I've returned to scholarship. The birding and nature walks and canoeing were very enjoyable, but I find that it's more exhilarating to listen to these fine voices challenging us each morning. And, of course, there's that spinoff pleasure of being back on campus meeting so many interesting people."

Not everyone was comfortable with the narrow subject of the Renaissance. Some missed the free-wheeling discussions and the exchange of personal experiences which came out of previous conceptual topics such as "Man and Woman" in 1977. It seemed, to some, to require more effort to link the academic with the social components of DAC. The opportunities were just as numerous as in other years. There were lunch hours where professors happily joined the cafeteria line a-buzz with questions. Before dinner each evening, in the rear of Thayer, a B.Y.O.B. informal hour meant fraternizing with a cocktail and some nibbles. Undergraduates who manned that operation were intrigued with the polite and interested folks who met each evening. There was the annual Bema barbecue followed by a lively Softball game involving juniors and undergrads. The Alumni Room in Blunt was converted to "a comforable living room" where the group could retire after evening movies for a cup of coffee and further discussion. Emily Bakemeier '82, a jolly, well-informed, solicitous young lady was the hostess. Planning a career in higher education administration, she "sees Alumni College as proof of the value of the interdiscipline of liberal arts education."

On the whole, the peoples of the 1982 DAC seemed in agreement with Director Kastan, who contended that "the Renaissance is very much the beginning of who we are today, and therefore a subject worthy of our study." One of the professors went so far as to suggest that we, the participants, in our retreats from jobs, homes, and nightly TV news, resembled Montaigne in his tower retreat from the world of bureaucratic pressures. Comparisons were made between the liberation and freedom dom of the Renaissance and the modern problems of civil rights, particularly of women and minorities. Fourteenth and fifteenth century expansionism was compared to the volatile territorial claims being made today in the Middle East. The validity of nationalism as it grew out of nation states was heatedly debated in and out of class.

In 1982, there were some unusual family representations other than the parent/ child combination. One was that of a 24-year-old craftsperson who "had chosen the world as my university." In accompanying her grandfather to DAC, she found herself pleased "to be in such an academic situation, surrounded by people who revere learning for learning's sake." A 30th wedding anniversary gift from their children brought Ann and John Witte '47 to Alumni College. Father and son Bruce Eaken Sr. and Jr., classes of '26 and '60, brought their wives for a combination visit cum vacation/study. The senior Mrs. Eaken, who describes herself as having first come to Alumni College in 1968 commented, "I've come five times now, and have never been disappointed in my quest for a mindstretching experience." Her daughter, Wilheimina, from New York City, was a newcomer who "approached the whole idea with some trepidation." She found it "a delight to continue scholastic discussions within the family and with people we meet socially. Since the Renaissance relates so easily to our own times, we just keep bouncing our ideas off each other."

There is universal pleasure in the friendships formed at DAC. Some compared it to "being aboard a ship, that kind of intensity of sharing and enjoying an experience." Sandra Landau, wife of Edward '51, put it this way: "We look forward to seeing certain people whom we've met here before. We pick up the tennis match and the family discussions exactly where we left off." Rita Eadie, who with or without her husband, class of '46, has come every year since 1966, has become unofficial Perle Mesta. She hosts an open house for faculty and some friends every year. Peter Montgomery '84, a drama major, filmed the festivities in mid-Mass as a project for Creative Process Videotape class. Footage will be culled into a five-minute documentary which will be shown throughout the country to various alumni groups. His overall impression? '"Wow, what an upbeat group!" Roy McCandless '84, serving as summer editor of The Dartmouth, echoed this sentiment after he interviewed 26 people for his lead story in the August 27 issue. He said he hoped "students would take the time to talk with some of these really bright people. Y'know, a serious discussion with one of them could really blow away our stereotype of the Dartmouth alumnus. You know the one . . . weird plaid trousers."

Steven Calvert '68 and his staff of Patricia Downing and Lorraine Marcotte are the stage directors of DAC. Their behind-the-scenes scenes attention to detail makes for the smoothness of the production. From selecting the menu for the closing banquet to the daily mail delivery, distribution of parking permits, supplies for the all-important coffee break . . . the unobtrusive but necessary requirements! (An amusing professorial comment: "M'gosh, no wonder these people never doze in class. They drink every drop of the ten gallons of coffee we provide each morning!")

Calvert, another handsomely hirsute Renaissance type, describes himself as a generalist, but a "specificist" might be more apt. He modestly comments that the program was well-established when he assumed the executive director role. He has an unflagging commitment to prodding alumni to look to their alma mater as a continuing source of education. He describes his job as "one requiring a brain that is involved in the academic, which reveres learning, but has another, pragmatic, compulsive side, also. "The other side of my brain is really happy organizing the minutiae of DAC." Where he has made an important contribution, he admits, is in the reassessing of discussion groups. "When I took over, that area was a weak link, and maybe it will always be. After all, what we are expecting is that adults, long out of academia, will open up to professors who, for the most part, are researchers and classroom teachers. The seminar setting is strange to them. So, with both participants and instructors out of their usual environment . . . there is work to be done."

In the final scene of the final act of Dartmouth Alumni College 1982, Thomas Duffy delivered the soliloquy. Duffy, a Yale professor of medicine, had first come to Dartmouth Medical School in 1978 as a visiting lecturer. Returning this summer as a student, he was unanimously selected to be valedictorian. Using a tennis metaphor, he cleverly extolled the strengths of the program . . . "A game of ideas played on the center and side courts." After he finished his speech, President McLaughlin took center stage and to a cheering audience, he issued the invitation "to return next year and celebrate our twentieth!

Curtain

EPILOGUE: Miranda and/or participants IN DAC: "How many goodly creatures arc there here."

THE AUTHOR: Jean Dalury of Grantham, N.H., mother of David Dalury '78, attended her second Dartmouth Alumni College in 1982. A graduate of Trinity College in Washington, D.C., she has done a great deal of newspaper and magazine writing, and is a free-lance photographer as well. She has lived in five different countries and has written for English-language publications in Beirut, Buenos Aires, Montevideo, and Caracus. The American Association of University Women has been one of her most active interests.

Discussion groups take to the outdoors when the weather behaves.

Coffee break after the two morning lectures is an enjoyable event for all hands

William Cook (left), professor of English, who is academic director of the upcoming 1983 AlumniCollege, with Steven Calvert '68, who runs the annual summer program.

Class is out for (L tor) John Wheatley '24, Ed Felt '18. Prof. Mark Harman, discussion leader,and Joe Burnett '40. who took some of the photographs illustrating this article.

A trip to Moosilauke Ravine Lodge was part of the special program for youngsters.