41 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
(11/07/10 3:31am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Frank Linville met his wife in Ramadi, Iraq, during his first deployment. She is a soldier, too.They dated long-distance before getting married after his second deployment.By his third deployment, Linville was kissing his six-month-old daughter good-bye. “It was crazy. I’m glad she was as young as she was though when I left, because it was very easy for her to adjust to my coming back.”Linville had heard horror stories about readjusting to family life when returning from Iraq.“When I came back from the airport and we finally met, I think for 20 minutes she was pretty shy. She knew who I was, but was kind of nervous. After that she was friendly, laughing, playing, and within a couple weeks, she was treating me like I had never left.”Now, he is a sophomore at IU with life and love experiences that are very different from his 19-year-old classmates.“I believe I am a much better individual on the whole after coming out of it. The opportunities I had to help others, to guide other soldiers particularly as a sergeant, as a leader, was really rewarding, and I really enjoyed it. It’s probably one of the biggest things I’m going to miss in the long run.”After three deployments, Linville has returned to Bloomington as a veteran, a father, a husband and a student.
(11/07/10 3:29am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Chris Hughie always has to smile in pictures, even during tours in Iraq and Afghanistan.“I want my mom to always think I’m happy and having fun,” he said, pointing out a photo of him eating Fun Dip candy in a humvee.“My parents wanted me to go to college. So I joined the reserves and started going to college, got deployed, and now I’m about to graduate. I’m still in the Marine Corps — I basically got to see the best of both worlds.”Hughie now works on reconciling and striking a balance between his military life in Baghdad and his student life in Bloomington.Hughie’s deployment to Iraq was “mellow” while Afghanistan was “miserable.”“You’re over there and you’re stressed out all the time because you’re in a combat zone, you could die. ...Back home it’s like, oh I got bills to pay. I’ve got all this homework. I’ve got to worry about this or that. Over there, all I’m really worried about is dying and if I do, then alright.”Instead, Hughie concentrated on his mission.“You can’t think about that stuff in order to accomplish your mission properly. If you’re always worried about dying, then you’d be too afraid to do whatever it is you’ve got to do.”
(11/07/10 3:27am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Samuel Gras is back.He started studying international security and history at IU in 1997, but joined the Army after seeing Sept. 11.“I didn’t want to watch the war from my couch. I wanted to see it for myself and be a part of it.” However, Gras needed to do more than just fight for freedom. He wanted to bring those experiences back to Bloomington. “If you’re in a social science class and you’re trying to state your opinion, that’s great, but it’s still an opinion. So for someone that’s just read the book versus someone that’s actually done it, I thought that it would give me a little advantage.”Now that he is back in class, Gras said he’s kind of surprised that most students don’t have more questions or aren’t more curious.“It seems like they want out of sight, out of mind about it all, which is OK. It’s a long war. You can’t just think about it every day.”
(11/07/10 3:26am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Eric East was at a bar in Australia on Sept. 11, 2001. He knew then he was going to war. His unit deployed immediately to Afghanistan because they were the closest.“When I was overseas when Sept. 11 happened, it very much seemed like a very important, very necessary war. But then after I got out I started looking into it a lot more in depth because I wanted to know why we’re fighting over there and why my buddies lost limbs and everything. And after what I found I have to say that both are completely unnecessary wars.”East said he began questioning the war in Afghanistan soon after he got there. In one incident, the officers gave the pilot orders to shoot an unknown vehicle. The intelligence officers tried to argue against it because it could have been the allies from the Northern Alliance who had white crosses marked on the top of their convoys and requested that the pilot get a closer look, East said.“The officers in charge said, ‘No, we don’t want to take the risk of putting this pilot in danger’ and wiped out the entire convoy. I still don’t know to this day if they were Taliban or Northern Alliance.”At the time, East was shut off from outside information, including Internet access. He started investigating the incident and the war as soon as he got out of the military.“The entire time between getting out of the military and going here to IU, I spent like seven years just devouring all this information on the Internet. I’ve come to the conclusion that the War on Terror is little more than the holy crusades just in disguise.”
(11/07/10 3:25am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Rudy Eckstein always dreamed of working on a submarine.“Before I went in, I thought it was going to be like [the movie] ‘Hunt for the Red October.’ We were going to go out and find commies and shoot them down with torpedoes and shoot guns and kill people.”Instead, Eckstein was in charge of monitoring the nuclear radiation on the submarine and making sure it stayed at the appropriate level. “It’s extreme boredom most of the time, but then you get two or three days of absolute going crazy. And that’s normally because we’re all about to die.”There were a couple times when the oxygen generator broke down or the submarine sprung a leak and the ocean started seeping in, he said.In the end, when he realized the dangers of his job, Rudy decided to leave. Three of his close friends got cancer in their early twenties. The Navy insisted that it wasn’t from the radiation that they and Eckstein were exposed to every day, but still paid for their medical bills during cancer treatment. Two of the three died before reaching their 27th birthdays.“Just watch your best friend die over the course of three years and you won’t want to do whatever it is. Even if it has nothing to do with it, if you think there could have been something you’ll just walk away. Now I’m going to go be a teacher, which is significantly less radiation, although I think a little scarier.”
(11/07/10 3:22am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Even though women are banned from combat positions, Krista Dora often found herself in the middle of the war from her perch on tower guard. “There are no front lines in Iraq. You’re there.”Dora spent eight hour shifts in the open tower under frequent fire as she watched a notoriously dangerous road, MSR Tampa.“In the Army, we call it IED alley. It’s where all the IEDs and the bombs and explosions go off. You’re watching all the convoys going by and making sure they’re not being blown up. You’re also in charge of watching a huge Iraqi village where there are a lot of people walking around with AK-47s and bombs.”Dora said she expected the war to be what she saw in the news and movies or heard about from other veterans, but as she stood in the guard post she realized it was quite different.“There’s definitely no comparison as far as seeing it and being there 24/7 for X amount of time compared to a video game or a movie,” she said. “I did the real thing.”Dora had dreamed of being a soldier since she was a kid. “I wanted to go because I love our country, and I love the freedoms that we have and I believe in fighting for them.”Now she motions to her black T-shirt that says, “Iraq Veterans Against the War.” After experiencing life as a soldier, she is no longer disillusioned by her childhood dreams.“I support our troops, but I’m against the war.”
(11/07/10 3:18am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Jeremy Degler was once a romantic about war. He’d wanted to be a Marine since he was 8 or 9 years old and then sealed the deal watching Sept. 11 unfold on TV. “Really I had no idea. I had this romanticized idea of going off to war. Nothing you can really expect is exactly how it turns out to be. It’s even stranger once you get over there. We train for all of this war fighting and actual blowing stuff up, but when you’re there, you don’t see who you’re fighting half the time because they’re hiding among civilians.” Degler’s opinion about war and America started changing on the ride over to Iraq with the Navy. As they stopped at different ports, Degler said he was saddened when he saw how people would look at him when they realized he was American. “I was telling people I was in the Canadian Navy just so they would get me a drink. Stink eye is an understatement. Some people would just turn around and walk away.” Despite the public’s negative perception of the war, Degler said he does believe there are positive changes coming to Iraq, and he said he’s proud of it. “When I was over there, I saw a lot of good things we were doing, which most of the time didn’t come back to the media here — watching the news all you ever hear about are soldiers dying and roadside bombs. But I saw a lot of people building schools, going door to door helping families get what they needed to survive.”
(11/01/10 5:39pm)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Content will show on the More about Solider page within the pop-up control.
(10/12/10 5:08am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>The crowd of bodies bumps up and down as the Night Owl A-bus navigates Jordan Avenue at 11:30 p.m. Guys climb onto the side luggage racks while girls sit on top of each other to make more room. The mass of 100 bodies leaves everyone pressed up against each other with no space to do anything but move their mouths to sing. The slightly slurred voices drown out The Beatles’ “Ticket to Ride.” The only one left with enough freedom to turn his head, move his arms and press up and down on the pedals is campus bus driver Dan Goldblatt. He’s not worried about not knowing all of the lyrics or spilling his drink like the crowd around him. The only thing he’s thinking about in the chaos is safety: Get these kids to their next stop. “The bus is twice as heavy so it takes longer to brake. Then you have to make sure people aren’t sticking things out the windows. At this point, there is nothing I can do back there,” Dan says, motioning back to the mass now singing the IU fight song. In the end, the 600 kids that pass through the doors of Dan’s bus are all trusting him to get them from point A to point B. They’ve given up that responsibility and embrace the singing, crowded nature of the bus. Fridays are the longest for him. His day job as a multimedia producer at WFIU begins at 10 a.m. He leaves the bus yard at 3:30 a.m. It’s a hard day’s night on what’s known as the drunk bus. ***Dan steers the crowded bus into the Ballantine and Jordan Hall bus stop. Sweaty fists pound the windows and cheers erupt as more than 50 people leave the bus. The mob of white T-shirts starts in the direction of a highlighter party. The eight people left on board take a deep breath of the lingering vodka and body odor scent and continue their journey down Third Street. “Tonight this bus will not be turning on to Kirkwood because of Lotus Festival. If you want to get off at Kirkwood, get off here. Otherwise, we’re going down to Walnut and turning there,” Dan says into the microphone. He just shrugs after he repeats the announcement of the detour. Dan knows no one is listening. Students will get mad or realize they’ve missed their stop once they sober up a bit. It’s not Dan’s problem. The bus’s signal flashes a left turn north onto Fee Lane. A dozen kids start sprinting toward the Kelley School of Business stop. Dan slides the bus into the bike lane and pushes the door open with a smile and an “Evening folks.” “We love you so much.” “You’re my hero.” “Thanks, man.”Each one thanks him as he or she enters the bus and even when they exit at Memorial Stadium.“I occasionally feel generous,” Dan says with a smile.***Dan is about to start another lap around campus when something, or the lack thereof, catches his eye. “Is that just a bra?” The black bra is actually paired with a short pinstripe vest, an A-line skirt and silver stilettos. The pack of girls stumbles onto the bus in the stadium parking lot. Even though this is only his second weekend driving the Night Owl, he can tell where people are going based on what they’re wearing. White shirts mean highlighter party. Black dresses are for black and white parties. Men in suits or women in provocative office attire are heading to “CEOs and Office Hoes” parties.With a fresh load of students, Dan edges out of the stadium. It’s just past midnight, but the night is just beginning for most. “Want to play the most crunk game at IU?” shouts a buff guy in a white V-neck. He jumps the two steps from the upper level and stands in the middle of the bus. “Night Owl bus surfing!” He tries to stand in a surfboard position as the bus rolls over the bumps on 17th Street. By the time Dan brakes at the stoplight at Fee Lane and 17th Street, a surfing mob of white T-shirts and office hoes are falling all over each other. As long as they’re not damaging anything, they’re allowed to have fun. These moments are why Dan doesn’t mind driving the Night Owl. Campus bus drivers get to bid on the routes they want to drive at the beginning of the semester. Dan is one of three Friday night bus drivers for IU buses. “Believe it or not, I kind of enjoy it,” he says.He keeps himself entertained in the eight hours of driving by listening to the funny phrases he overhears.“I just farted. It must be your fault,” Alex, a freshman, says, accusing his friend across the aisle.Dan just looks up amused before announcing on the intercom, “This is a no-farting bus.” Alex and his friends fall back in laughter before recounting how they got kicked out of a fraternity party. Dan’s heard way too many of these stories before. ***By 1 a.m., the Night Owl surfing boys are back. Having abandoned their surfing game, they started hanging on the bars and loudly jumping on the bus floor. Dan slams on the brakes, jolting everyone suddenly forward. It’s enough to get their attention. “If someone stomps again, I will throw you all off the bus,” Dan angrily shouts to the back. The 40 people on board shout back.“Bull-shit”“Bull-shit”“Bull-shit”The students chant from their seats, and Dan continues to drive past the Indiana Memorial Union.“They can be rowdy, but when they start destroying things, I’m done,” Dan says, his patience wearing thin with two-and-a-half hours left. By 1:30 a.m., the intoxication level of the bus has decreased. Dan announces that it is now the Creedence Clearwater Revival time of the night, so he switches the music on the Zune to match his mood. He spends most of his breaks in between runs rigging a better sound system. He wraps a microphone around the radio and puts it in his backpack, hanging on a hook behind him. He has a break after completing each 40-minute lap around campus. The earlier he finishes the route, the longer the break. The silence of the bus is a nice respite from the normal singing mob. “Hit Me Baby One More Time,” “Sweet Caroline” and the “Hoo-Hoo-Hoo Hoosiers” cheer are crowd favorites, along with the occasional Beatles song. But during these 15 minute breaks, Dan can listen to his own music without the drunk chorus. Dan walks down the aisle picking up the trash: a red solo cup, an abandoned beer can and a couple of Gatorade bottles. “No ones getting on with a beer, but I can’t do too much about a Gatorade or water bottle,” he says.***It’s just after 2:40 a.m. when it finally happens. A guy pushes through the crowd to the front of the bus and grabs the trash bag before disappearing back into the throng. Suddenly, shouts erupt from the middle of the bus, and the crowd squishes to the sides. A victim of the highlighter party pukes red juice into the small white bag. Half of the bus leaves, disgusted at the sight of the small amount of vomit sloshed onto the floor. The smell is absorbed into the vodka and perfume saturated air. “The bus ends up smelling like The Bluebird at 2 a.m., but the bus starts out smelling nice where The Bluebird doesn’t,” Dan says. Someone usually throws up every weekend on a bus. Dan has even found passed out people in the back during his breaks. But this is the last lap, so Dan just glances into the rearview mirror and pulls away. He is almost finished with his eight-hour run and has a pork chop, a glass of boxed wine and a calico cat named June Carter waiting for him at home. That doesn’t mean the craziness has come to an end. Five minutes later, a guy starts throwing himself against the doors. He’s missed his stop and wants to be let off. The doors open slightly under his weight, but he keeps bouncing back into the bus. Although Dan screams at him to get off his doors, the kid still tries to plow through once more before threatening to jump through the window.Two girls pull the cord for the bus to stop in front of the Musical Arts Center, and the guy jumps off.“Have fun walking, sweetheart,” Dan shouts from his open window. His laughter and the Night Owl bus turn right onto Third Street and pull away into the night.
(09/22/10 3:09am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>The pin is jabbed into her scalp as Angela Kloc flinches in pain.It’s the last pin needed to transform her naturally straight brown hair and heavy bangs into a mop of copper hair with a low bun. If she cries it would ruin the make-up applied according to the directions taped on the mirror, and she still needs to get the fake eyelashes glued on. Two tries later the pin is in, and this is only the first wig of four she’ll wear during the show. “It’s really weird to get the wig and look at yourself,” graduate student Kloc said, thirty minutes before her call to stage. “You don’t recognize yourself.”For the next three hours Kloc will be playing Rosina in the Jacobs School of Music’s opera “The Barber of Seville.” The opera will be at 8 p.m. this weekend and next at the Musical Arts Center. Purchase tickets at the Musical Arts Center box office or by phone, 812-855-7433. Tickets can also be ordered through Ticketmaster by phone or online.“Rosina is very sassy, feisty, a smart ass in a way. She’s always ahead of the game,” Kloc said. “You want to be like her.”In the opera, Rosina is under the protection of Doctor Bartolo who wants to marry her for her money. Meanwhile, the Count has fallen in love with Rosina and enlists the help of Figaro, the Barber of Seville, to gain access to her. The love story evolves amidst the comedy and hilarity on stage.“He gets the girl, I get the gold,” said graduate student Scott Hogsed, who plays Figaro. The Italian opera is based off the 1775 musical play “Le Barbier de Seville” by Pierre Beaumarchais.Despite its old and complex past, the show has a modern feel with a well-known love story, similar to the one in “Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.” The stage is built on a rotating platform, which turns among its three sets. The opera has a darker, contemporary feel with a Tim Burton influence, said Nic Muni, stage director. He’s also made innovations and taken liberties with the original opera. Dr. Bartolo’s character is made into a mad scientist with a laboratory on stage, Muni said, which is rare to see in most productions.“It’s a sensory feast,” Muni said.Conductor Arthur Fagen said the music is stylistically very difficult, but also very familiar for the audience. “It’s one of the fastest paced operas that ever existed,” Fagen said. “All of the scenic direction and running around is the challenge. And then when the singers are on stage, the difficulties become much more compounded.”The overture to the show is also used in Looney Tunes for when Elmer Fudd chases Bugs Bunny in the famous episode “Rabbit of Seville.” Most Italian food commercials incorporate the classic “Figaro, Figaro, Figaro” song that Hogsed performs in the first few minutes of the play. “Everybody knows Figaro, Figaro, Figaro, Figaro!” Hogsed softly sings to reserve his voice. “You just really want that to sparkle.”To make Figaro sparkle, the cast practices five hours a day during the week and six hours on Saturdays. To make sure their voices stay healthy, there are two casts who rotate performances. However, each show still takes its toll on the performers. “My shoulders hurt. I bruised my fingernail. I smashed my knee,” Hogsed said. “It’s just one of the most physically demanding shows. I’m just exhausted.”Kloc echoed his sentiments. She tries to rest her voice as much as possible, even if that includes not hanging out with friends or chatting as much. Instead her attention is focused on eating healthy foods and sleeping.Now, three days before opening night as Rosina, Kloc only has to live up to her own expectations. “Personal expectations are the hardest for me,” she said, applying the last of her make-up before heading on stage. “At the end of the day, you’re the one who has to live with your own performance.”
(09/17/10 5:12pm)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>As an undergraduate in the 1950s, Elinor “Lin” Ostrom was told she had two career choices.“There was no encouragement to think about anything other than teaching in high school or being pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen,” said Ostrom, the Arthur F. Bentley Professor of Political Science at IU. “I don’t know how many times I was told about being pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen.”Now, more than half a century later, Ostrom spent a Monday sitting in a TV studio and posing for an Associated Press photo shoot after completing interviews with the Wall Street Journal, BBC and The New York Times.On Oct. 12, 2009, Ostrom became the first female recipient of the Nobel Prize in economics, a career many advised her not to pursue.“So that’s a lesson,” she said.HER STORYAt 6:30 a.m. Oct. 12, 2009, Ostrom received a phone call.At first she thought it was a telemarketer, but once she heard the voice she knew it was from the Nobel committee.Nine hours and countless interviews later, Ostrom was still processing the instant international fame.“When it’s been this hectic, you don’t have much time to think about it,” she said. “It’s been a very exciting day, and I’m very appreciative of being able to talk to people, and I hope I survive it.”In a white house on the west edge of campus, congratulatory flowers stream in. The house is the building for the Workshop in Political Theory and Policy Analysis, which Ostrom and her husband, Vincent, helped found in 1973.The Ostroms founded the workshop in an effort to approach political-economic scholarship in a new, interdisciplinary way.Covering its walls are artifacts and art pieces gathered from around the world.“Look at it around here — this is not the normal academic office,” said the workshop’s co-director Michael McGinnis. “Look at the stuff on the walls — it looks like you’re in an area-studies institute.”The collection extends throughout the building and into Ostrom’s second-floor office, which isn’t the expansive corner office one might expect of a Nobel laureate.Squeezed narrowly into a single-window room are an aged wooden desk and beige metal filing cabinets. Four fluorescent light bulbs cast a dusty yellow glow on the crumbling ceiling.One wall is plastered with a faded National Geographic map and a whale calendar still showing May.The only indications of Ostrom’s award are a single bouquet of flowers sitting on the desk and an envelope addressed to her as the “2009 Nobel winner.”And the two papers in her opened briefcase?The official Nobel certificates.HER CONTRIBUTIONDownstairs at the center, three international students discussed Ostrom’s significance in the economic community.“She’s a political scientist, definitely, but she’s so big that she spills over into being an economist as well,” said Pontus Strimling, a mathematics post-doctoral student from Sweden. Strimling explained Ostrom’s major area of research, common pool resources, as land or property that is not controlled by government nor by private entities, but rather is shared among individuals.“Think of a fish in a lake or an apple tree — it’s hard to keep other people from going there and picking the apples, and the apple that someone picked, no one else can have it,” he said. “Her theory is about what kind of agreements make sure fishing is sustainable, or that the apples are distributed equally.”Biologist Somabha Mohanty, a Ph.D. candidate in the School of Public and Environmental Affairs described how Ostrom transformed traditional thinking about groups dividing resources.“She tried to look at communities that for many years had actually been sustainably managing these common pool resources,” Mohanty said. “These were not privatized resources nor were they owned by the state, but communities and groups had created their own systems and rules for managing these resources.”McGinnis said Ostrom and her team of researchers found many different common property systems around the world.“She has really revolutionized the way in which people understand the commons,” he said. “There are some things you can’t divide up into private property — you can’t put fences in the sea and carve up different fishing areas.”In her ground-breaking 1990 book, “Governing the Commons: the Evolution of Institutions for Collective Action,” Ostrom argued there are other ways to control resources besides complete government regulation, and one solution won’t apply to all problems.“What I’ve learned is the dichotomy of ‘the market’ and ‘the state’ is not a useful dichotomy,” she said in an interview with the BBC on Oct. 12. “There are many more institutional arrangements out there in the world. ... When we try to develop a top-down formula, the same formula for every place in the country, that’s where we seem to run into serious trouble.”IN THE NATIONAL SPOTLIGHTOstrom is a Nobel celebrity now, but those who have known her for decades or even a couple months said they believed the award wouldn’t change her.“She’s probably the most brilliant and energetic person I’ve ever met,” Mohanty said. “She likes to hear what everyone says. It is very important to her that she works with everyone as a team and as colleagues, not as this high professor talking to students.”McGinnis echoed these sentiments, having worked with Ostrom for more than 20 years.“Her and Vincent have a house out in the country. They’re very rustic, very down-home people,” he said, “and yet the smartest people I’ve ever met. The hardest working, and yet just normal folks.”Even after reaching the pinnacle of academia, Ostrom remains grounded, McGinnis said.“A lot of people at her level — and there aren’t many — but a lot of them are kind of full of themselves, and she’s not,” he said.In the middle of the biggest day of her life, Ostrom took a break from the national spotlight to spend 10 minutes with two student reporters.“I’m still interested (in teaching),” she said. “I like your questions. I learn from my students — they give me new ideas and new direction and all the rest. This is a passion for me. I don’t have to do it.”— Originally published in the Indiana Daily Student, Oct. 13, 2009.
(09/15/10 4:03am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>FROM IDS REPORTSJulian Hook has two doctorates: one in music, one in math. However, this unusual combination of interests paid off for the Jacobs School of Music professor, who was awarded a $30,000 Sabbatical Fellowship from the American Philosophical Society in late Spring. Hook submitted a proposal for his research project on transformational music theory, or the application of math in different musical situations. He will use his sabbatical to work on a book, “Musical Spaces and Transformations.”While the circle of fifths or chromatic scales are well-known examples of musical spaces, there are other geometric and mathematical elements in chords, time points or rhythms that have not been explored. This was the 12th and final year for the American Philosophical Society’s Sabbatical Fellowship program. While they have awarded more than 200 fellowships, only a few have been for music-related projects.“There really aren’t very many organizations that I’m aware of that potentially have grant money available for work in music-related scholarship, so when I learned that the APS was a possibility, I decided it was worth a shot to apply,” Hook said in an e-mail. “Unfortunately, the APS has announced that this was the last year of this fellowship program, so I guess I barely got in under the wire.” — Biz Carson
(09/10/10 3:19am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>One minute and 17 seconds into the second movement, Brian Ciach hit the piano too hard. A screw fell out, hitting the inside of the piano with a loud ping and causing a cloud of dust to blow straight into his face.Ciach was shocked, but he had just experienced his first “Lisztian” moment.Three years later, Ciach had his second when that piece, “Piano Sonata 2” tied for first place in the American Liszt Society’s Bicentennial Composition Competition this July.Ciach and his fellow winner, Gilad Cohen of Princeton University, are splitting the $4,000 prize provided by Steinway and Sons.The American Liszt Society is named after Franz Liszt, the famous Hungarian composer and piano virtuoso known for his dramatic flair.“I feel like I’m inspired by his spirit,” said Ciach, a doctoral candidate in the composition department at the Jacobs School of Music. “I like to, in a sense, put on a show. But it’s all in the service of the sound of the music.” However, in the American Liszt Society’s competition, Ciach couldn’t rely on loose screws to create drama and excitement in his music. Composers from 11 countries submitted 32 previously unpublished pieces to the composition, explained Richard Zimdars, artistic director of the American Liszt Society’s bicentennial festival and music professor at the University of Georgia. Zimdars said he was happy that pieces were stylistically all over the map, as they weren’t looking for imitations of Liszt’s works. “I looked at the pieces, and the styles ranged from very conservative to really far and good avant-garde,” he said.Ciach places his piece in the middle, but he does so with the typical Liszt virtuoso flair.“It’s definitely not standard or entirely avant-garde,” he said. “I added some percussive effects where you’re knocking on the key board or slapping your hands. It’s a physically demanding piece.”The full use of the instrument and the resulting music from it are what competition judge Paul Barnes liked about Ciach’s piece. “He had a very effective use of the piano that was innovative,” said Barnes, a Jacobs School of Music alumnus and music professor at the University of Nebraska. “It was also incredibly expressive... it is something that makes you look inward.”It was the internal desire to play piano that made Ciach write the sonata.Ciach’s sonata will be played this February for an international crowd at the American Liszt Society’s Bicentennial Festival at the University of Georgia. “My inspiration was just the internal need to play music,” Ciach said. “When I got the e-mail that I won, I was surprised and beguiled. I wrote it essentially for myself.”
(09/08/10 3:11am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Senior Madalyn Morse used to sit in Woodburn 100 and stare at the murals instead of paying attention to her professor’s lecture. However, this July, Morse found herself once again in Woodburn 100, but this time perched on top of scaffolding, painting and restoring the famous works of art. “Sitting on top of the scaffolding all day was a struggle,” Morse said. “I didn’t expect the physical challenge.”Morse worked alongside Margaret Contompasis, head of the IU painting conservation at the IU Art Museum, and two other students for five weeks to restore the Thomas Hart Benton murals in the Woodburn classroom. Benton originally painted many murals for the Indiana Hall at the 1933 Century of Progress Exposition in Chicago. After the world’s fair closed, the murals were moved to a horse barn before Herman B Wells convinced the state of Indiana to donate 22 of them to IU in 1940. Since their installation, the murals have only been cleaned and restored once in the 1980s. Morse said she was shocked by how dirty the murals were and had to use a vacuum to remove almost 30 years worth of dust. “There was a lot of built up grime,” Contompasis said. “I’ve removed chewing tobacco, soda, you name it. They’ve also had a little bit more mischievous action from students as well.” The two murals, located in Woodburn Hall, have been objects of controversy and vandalism in the past because they contain images of the Ku Klux Klan. However, the damage and dirt weren’t the only challenges in conserving the murals.Benton used an egg tempera mix of paint, and because of the unstable environment, it began shrinking and curling off the back of the mural like a ship’s sail. “This is pretty much the worst environment for a painting,” Contompasis said, gesturing to the empty Woodburn 100 classroom. “It goes from this to being filled with 400 students with their breathing and heat, and the humidity just sky rockets. Then it will go back to being cool and empty.”As a result of these hourly temperature changes, large portions of the mural had to have paint reattached and be “inpainted,” or touched-up using special conservation paints.During the conservation work in the 1980s, the paint was consolidated using wax. But that procedure didn’t withstand the temperature changes in Woodburn, and Contompasis and her team of students used a different method: fish bladders. The dried fish bladders from sturgeons were added to hot water to create a gelatin known as Isinglass. The Isinglass was then spread carefully over sheets of tissue paper to be absorbed by the paint and adhere it to the back of the canvas. Once the paint was reattached, the team started the last step of inpainting, or painting on the original work where paint has flaked off or is missing. Painting conservators use a special brand of paint that is completely removable, but has a special life span of 100 years.“It was nice to know that the paint was removable,” senior Krista Grant said. “Anything we do, if it looks bad, can be removed.” The key to conservation is that all work must be detectable so that people know it is not part of the original, Contompasis said. Scans like UV lights and other methods should be able to easily detect the conservation work. When Morse first started working for the conservation lab, Contompasis took her around the art museum with a UV light to show her where conservation work had been done on the other art pieces. “These murals that are so important to IU and Indiana just had huge layers of dust on them,” Morse said. “The best part is now seeing how beautiful the colors just really are.”Grant echoed Morse’s love for conservation.“I like the idea of fixing what came before and saving it for the future,” Grant said. “You’re around beautiful works of art all the time, so it’s not your average desk job.”
(04/20/10 8:10pm)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>The Little 500 is more than a bike race — it’s a scholarship competition, one that has nothing to do with the results of the race.The IU Student Foundation awards thousands of scholarships and grants each year through its program, and a majority of them are associated with the race. This year, the money given out in scholarships and grants totals $154,770, said Tricia Runkel, assistant director of IUSF.There are four general rider scholarships totaling $3,200. Each scholarship has different qualifications, ranging from financial need to a positive attitude.One of the most important scholarships is the Working Rider Scholarship, junior Chrissie White said. It offers $1,000 to riders who work to support their education. IUSF also sponsors the Michael E. Erickson Memorial Scholarship, which awards $500 to nominated participants who have overcome adversity to race. All of the scholarships will be announced at the Victory Banquet on the Wednesday following the Little 500. Even if they don’t win on the track, riders can still win financially. Chrissie WhiteJunior, majoring in EnglishScholarship: Howdy Wilcox – ATO – Little 500 ScholarshipRole in the Little 500: “Gunner” (Applicants for the steering committee work as gunners their junior year)White won the Howdy Wilcox – ATO – Little 500 scholarship without pedaling a lap around the track. Instead of being a rider, White works as a gunner. She’s painted pit boards and is helping construct the race.White thinks the behind-the-scenes aspects of the race are what make the experience.“Without all of the things beforehand, it would just be a bike race,” she said.White has also worked as a member for the pre-race committee and the scholarship and service committee as well as part of the IU Sing production staff. Now, she is a scholarship winner.“I’m just very grateful. IUSF has given me a lot more than just money,” White said. Kelsie AckmanJunior, majoring in criminal justiceScholarship: Richard Steiner ScholarshipRole in the Little 500: Chairman for the Little 500 Cycling CommitteeAckman didn’t know much about the Little 500 before coming to IU. Now, she and her committee are in charge of organizing the Individual Time Trials and assisting in race day operations. This means everything from getting water and setting up tents to helping with check-in and registration.“Just participating in something bigger than what you could do individually is amazing,” Ackman said.Through her work at IUSF for four semesters, she was encouraged to apply for the Richard Steiner Scholarship, which also gives preference to criminal justice majors. The scholarship, however, isn’t only restricted to IUSF members.“The whole mission of IUSF is to give back,” Ackman said.
(03/30/10 11:45pm)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>As an undergraduate in the 1950s, Elinor “Lin” Ostrom was told she had two career choices.“There was no encouragement to think about anything other than teaching in high school or being pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen,” said Ostrom, the Arthur F. Bentley Professor of Political Science at IU. “I don’t know how many times I was told about being pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen.”Now, more than half a century later, Ostrom spent a Monday sitting in a TV studio and posing for an Associated Press photo shoot after completing interviews with the Wall Street Journal, BBC and The New York Times.On Oct. 12, 2009, Ostrom became the first female recipient of the Nobel Prize in economics, a career many advised her not to pursue.“So that’s a lesson,” she said.Her storyAt 6:30 a.m. Oct. 12, 2009, Ostrom received a phone call.At first she thought it was a telemarketer, but once she heard the voice she knew it was from the Nobel committee.Nine hours and countless interviews later, Ostrom was still processing the instant international fame.“When it’s been this hectic, you don’t have much time to think about it,” she said. “It’s been a very exciting day, and I’m very appreciative of being able to talk to people, and I hope I survive it.”In a white house on the west edge of campus, congratulatory flowers stream in. The house is the building for the Workshop in Political Theory and Policy Analysis, which Ostrom and her husband, Vincent, helped found in 1973.The Ostroms founded the workshop in an effort to approach political-economic scholarship in a new, interdisciplinary way.Covering its walls are artifacts and art pieces gathered from around the world.“Look at it around here — this is not the normal academic office,” said the workshop’s co-director Michael McGinnis. “Look at the stuff on the walls — it looks like you’re in an area-studies institute.”The collection extends throughout the building and into Ostrom’s second-floor office, which isn’t the expansive corner office one might expect of a Nobel laureate.Squeezed narrowly into a single-window room are an aged wooden desk and beige metal filing cabinets. Four fluorescent light bulbs cast a dusty yellow glow on the crumbling ceiling.One wall is plastered with a faded National Geographic map and a whale calendar still showing May.The only indications of Ostrom’s award are a single bouquet of flowers sitting on the desk and an envelope addressed to her as the “2009 Nobel winner.”And the two papers in her opened briefcase?The official Nobel certificates.Her contributionDownstairs at the center, three international students discussed Ostrom’s significance in the economic community.“She’s a political scientist, definitely, but she’s so big that she spills over into being an economist as well,” said Pontus Strimling, a mathematics post-doctoral student from Sweden. Strimling explained Ostrom’s major area of research, common pool resources, as land or property that is not controlled by government nor by private entities, but rather is shared among individuals.“Think of a fish in a lake or an apple tree — it’s hard to keep other people from going there and picking the apples, and the apple that someone picked, no one else can have it,” he said. “Her theory is about what kind of agreements make sure fishing is sustainable, or that the apples are distributed equally.”Biologist Somabha Mohanty, a Ph.D. candidate in the School of Public and Environmental Affairs described how Ostrom transformed traditional thinking about groups dividing resources.“She tried to look at communities that for many years had actually been sustainably managing these common pool resources,” Mohanty said. “These were not privatized resources nor were they owned by the state, but communities and groups had created their own systems and rules for managing these resources.”McGinnis said Ostrom and her team of researchers found many different common property systems around the world.“She has really revolutionized the way in which people understand the commons,” he said. “There are some things you can’t divide up into private property — you can’t put fences in the sea and carve up different fishing areas.”In her ground-breaking 1990 book, “Governing the Commons: the Evolution of Institutions for Collective Action,” Ostrom argued there are other ways to control resources besides complete government regulation, and one solution won’t apply to all problems.“What I’ve learned is the dichotomy of ‘the market’ and ‘the state’ is not a useful dichotomy,” she said in an interview with the BBC on Oct. 12. “There are many more institutional arrangements out there in the world. ... When we try to develop a top-down formula, the same formula for every place in the country, that’s where we seem to run into serious trouble.”In the national spotlightOstrom is a Nobel celebrity now, but those who have known her for decades or even a couple months said they believed the award wouldn’t change her.“She likes to hear what everyone says. It is very important to her that she works with everyone as a team and as colleagues, not as this high professor talking to students.” Mohanty said. McGinnis echoed these sentiments, having worked with Ostrom for more than 20 years.“Her and Vincent have a house out in the country. They’re very rustic, very down-home people,” he said, “and yet the smartest people I’ve ever met. The hardest working, and yet just normal folks.”Even after reaching the pinnacle of academia, Ostrom remains grounded, McGinnis said.“A lot of people at her level — and there aren’t many — but a lot of them are kind of full of themselves, and she’s not,” he said.In the middle of the biggest day of her life, Ostrom took a break from the national spotlight to spend 10 minutes with two student reporters.“I’m still interested (in teaching),” she said. “I like your questions. I learn from my students. They give me new ideas and new direction and all the rest. This is a passion for me.”Originally published in the Indiana Daily Student: Oct. 13, 2009
(03/03/10 5:04am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>A woman polishes the silver metal handle of a locked brown padded door. Meanwhile, visitors peer through glass cases, coming closer than they might ever be to the likes of Thomas Jefferson, William Shakespeare, Charles Darwin, Christopher Columbus and Sylvia Plath.That is, until they walk through that door. The Lilly Library is home to more than 400,000 books, 130,000 pieces of sheet music and approximately 7 million manuscripts. From the first printing of the Declaration of Independence to an extensive small book collection, students can access it all for nothing more than a photo ID. “Compared to most rare book libraries we’re extraordinarily open,” said Rebecca Cape, head of reference and public services for the Library. “Absolutely anybody can come in to use the materials, and we think curiosity is a perfectly good reason to do so.” In order to see any piece of the library’s collection, visitors simply must be buzzed through a set of brown doors to the reading room, register with the library and make their request. Currently, the library is celebrating its 50th anniversary with the “Treasures of the Lilly Library,” exhibit that runs through May 8. This exhibit features some of the Lilly’s more noteworthy pieces, but at any given time only “a tiny fraction of a percent of the total holdings is ever on exhibit,” Cape said.While the library is home to several well-known pieces that are often on display, the majority of its holdings are more commonplace than the Gutenburg Bible or Sylvia Plath’s diaries. “We have both a museum and a research function,” Cape said. Graduate student Ashley Nicole Forns, a references services assistant at the library, said there is a mix of graduate and undergraduate students who use the reading room, but the majority of the use is for class. Students in medieval studies courses often look at prayer books, medieval copies of scholarly works such as Aristotle and even 19th- and 20th-century versions of medieval stories, said Rosemarie McGerr, director of the Medieval Studies Institute. “Many students have told me they really enjoyed looking at the works because they had no idea what these works look liked and how hard it was to read them in their original form,” McGerr said.The Medieval Studies Institute works closely with the Lilly in what McGerr said is a partnership.What she said she appreciates most about the library is the rarity of the pieces and the accessibility of the works to the public.“It is a resource for the whole community, not just scholars or in private collections,” she said.James Canary, head of conservation for the library, warns that “conservation and preservation are everybody’s jobs.” When students request materials, they are informed of proper etiquette and handling. Some books require cushions, meant to help the book rest in a comfortable position and minimize damage.The majority of conservation efforts come from maintaining the environment in which the works are stored, as well as “using the building as protection,” Canary said. Modern paper in comic books and newspapers are brittle and kept off-site at the Auxiliary Library, which is kept cooler than the Lilly Library. Manuscripts are stored in acid-free folders and acid-free boxes.The goal of the conservation team, which consists of six students and four professionals, is to keep the works in usable condition.“Very few items cannot be used and require the curator’s permission,” Canary said. “We’re very good about access here. It’s a balance between preservation and access. They go hand in hand.”The library acquires its pieces through a mix of donations from private collections and purchases, and its history reflects this. “It’s one of the top libraries in the nation,” said Gabriel Swift, a reference assistant for the library. In the mid-1950s, J.K. Lilly Jr. gave his collection — one of the nation’s finest at the time — to IU. The school has been cultivating a collection since approximately 1914. Lilly’s gift was so outstanding when combined with what the University already held, so IU decided to build a facility for all the special collections and manuscripts for IU’s Bloomington campus, Cape said.“I say this to the people who work for me: Never say we don’t have something that will interest somebody,” Cape said. “Chances are we can find something. And why not? It’s here. It’s meant to be used.”
(12/09/09 6:36am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Elinor Ostrom hasn’t had a vacation since 1973.Her current trip to Europe is no different as she delivered a lecture Tuesday morning, will receive the Nobel Prize for Economics on Thursday in Stockholm and will meet with global leaders at the 2009 United Nations Climate Change Conference Copenhagen on Sunday.“She doesn’t take time off. She just doesn’t,” said David Price, front office receptionist at the Workshop in Political Theory and Policy Analysis, which Ostrom co-founded with her husband Vincent in 1973. “As much as she travels, it’s never for pleasure ... Mostly she’s working – because that’s what she loves,” Price said. “That’s what makes her happy.” Ostrom and her husband own a cabin in Canada where they used to spend one or two months in the summer, Price said. But this was only what Ostrom called a “writing retreat.”Since winning the Nobel Prize in October, Ostrom has made working and staying involved at the workshop a priority.“She’s very grounded in what has contributed to her success and what is important to her. Teaching is a huge priority. ... She is interacting with her students in both learning from them and teaching them what she knows,” said Jacqui Bauer, assistant director at the workshop.The time Ostrom has put into the workshop shows on the Tuesday morning of her Nobel lecture. A basement classroom in the workshop is filled with people sitting in the old wooden chairs. However, there isn’t the usual scribbling of notes. The blackboard still shows models from Monday’s lectures. Instead, friends and colleagues have gathered to watch Ostrom deliver the 30-minute speech to summarize almost half a century’s worth of work.“I remember that morning waking up and hearing that she’d won. ... They had already been dealing with it for a couple hours,” Bauer said. “While I knew that it was going to be a little hectic and there would be some excitement, I did not at all anticipate that it would change the whole content of my day, and my week, and my next two weeks. I didn’t understand how much that would impact me personally. All of us didn’t anticipate it.”Fourteen colleagues traveled to Sweden with Ostrom. They include IU President Michael McRobbie, co-directors of the workshop political science professor Michael McGinnis and economics professor Jimmy Walker, and long-time co-worker Patty Lezotte.One person noticeably missing from the trip is Vincent Ostrom.Instead, the 90-year-old sat conspicuously in the middle of the crowd of students and colleagues Tuesday wearing a bright red windbreaker and hat. His fingers are curled around the edge of the wooden table, knobbed cane lying across it, as he watched his wife deliver her Nobel Prize lecture via live feed from Stockholm.“I’m used to seeing her on the stage, and she does a marvelous job. She won the Nobel Prize,” Vincent Ostrom said, clapping to demonstrate his support. “She just does better work than I do. She had a book called ‘Governing the Commons.’ She did the book; I suggested the title.”Students laughed at Vincent Ostrom’s quip because he is his own celebrity at the workshop as students ask for photos with him after the lecture. He has served as co-director of the workshop, a professor of political science and founding director.Elinor Ostrom dedicated her most widely recognized scholarly work “Governing of the Commons: The Evolution of Institutions for Collective Action” to her husband. It reads “To Vincent, for his love and contestation.”“We’ve always been colleagues, and we’re still colleagues. She’s not only a wife, she’s a colleague and we work together,” Vincent Ostrom said, raising two fingers to represent their bond. “We work together and I think that her work is going to amount to more in our lifetime than my work.”“But it’s two together,” he said, leaning his knobbed wooden cane against his leg and raising his two fingers again.
(12/03/09 5:37am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>In 24 hours, Elinor “Lin” Ostrom has gone from shaking the hands of President Barack Obama to those of IU President Michael McRobbie. Sitting on the stage at the IU Auditorium on Wednesday, Ostrom held hands with her husband, Vincent, as she listened to fellow faculty and colleagues celebrate her achievements.Ostrom, Nobel Prize Laureate and IU Arthur F. Bentley Professor of Political Science, is IU’s eighth Nobel Prize winner and the world’s first woman to win it in economics. Friends and colleagues gathered in the auditorium Wednesday for a brief reception followed by remarks from Mayor Mark Kruzan, Provost Karen Hanson, and co-directors of the Workshop in Political Theory and Policy Analysis Michael McGinnis and James Walker, among others.After meeting fellow 2009 Nobel Laureates on Tuesday in Washington and attending the reception at IU on Wednesday, Ostrom will leave for Stockholm on Friday to accept the Nobel Prize in Economics, formally titled the Sveriges Riksbank Prize in Economic Sciences in Memory of Alfred Nobel.“This is Lin’s day, Tuesday was Lin’s day, next week is Lin’s week, too, in Stockholm,” said McRobbie during his speech Wednesday at the reception. McRobbie highlighted the many contributions Ostrom has made both to economic scholarship and to the University.The Nobel Committee, in their announcement of her award on Oct. 12, cited Ostrom’s large body of research on the economic governance of common resources, like fish in the ocean and trees in the forest, where no one entity has authoritative control.“Her book ‘Governing the Commons’ dispelled the conventional wisdom that the best arrangement for managing common property was either privatization or government control,” Hanson said in the ceremony’s opening remarks.Beyond her contributions to analysis of the commons, Ostrom and husband Vincent have contributed fiscally to the institution where they have both worked for more than four and half decades.“Lin and Vincent have given personally to the Foundation – to an endowment to support the Workshop – over $2 million over their careers at IU,” McRobbie said. “They’ve made a further estate gift of $1.5 million, and Lin has said her half of the Nobel Prize, $700,000, will also be a part of that endowment.”Furthermore, Ostrom and husband Vincent founded the Workshop in 1973 to foster an interdisciplinary approach to political-economic scholarship.“Vincent and Lin together have been the driving force, jointly, behind the Workshop ... which I think has been one of the most vigorous, most dynamic, most highly regarded academic centers in the University,” McRobbie said.Even with all of Ostrom’s travel obligations, the Workshop still remains one of her top priorities.“I’m at the Workshop all the time ... we had a colloquium today,” Ostrom said. “The Workshop doesn’t change.”Following her lecture Dec. 8 at Stockholm University and award ceremony Dec. 10 at Stockholm Concert Hall, Ostrom will attend the U.N. Climate Change Conference in Copenhagen on Dec. 13. She plans to help with international negotiations on climate change by representing the Workshop and its hundreds of contributing scholars. “Lin is nothing if not gracious to her colleagues,” McRobbie said. “She has said over and over again that her achievement reflects all the wonderful students the Workshop has had, the wonderful faculty who have been part of the Workshop and the extraordinary staff. ... The glory that is now Lin’s also reflects on all of them.”
(11/05/09 5:36am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Panda Express, Chipotle, Noodles & Company and other downtown restaurant chains are safe – for now. The Greater Bloomington Chamber of Commerce said Tuesday they would not restrict the number of chains or formula-based restaurants allowed on Kirkwood Avenue and the Courthouse Square.This statement comes in response from a soon-to-be-proposed ordinance that Mayor Mark Kruzan formulated.In Kruzan’s April 29 State of the City address, he discussed how protecting locally owned and operated businesses is at the top of his list.“Local enterprises are what will get this country through the recession,” Kruzan said. “They are the cradle of entrepreneurial spirit. ... Our message is not that chain business are not welcome – they, after all, employ people and satisfy demand – but we want to encourage a climate that fosters local first.”Following his address, Kruzan put together a group to work toward drafting an ordinance to limit the number of chains and formula-based restaurants in the downtown area, which could also be expanded to Fourth Street, said Morgan Hutton, director of advocacy for the Chamber of Commerce.On Tuesday, however, the Chamber of Commerce stated that it does not support the possibility of the proposed ordinance. “It is in the process of being brought forward,” Hutton said. “It probably won’t be (presented) until after the first of the year. The group will meet for the second time on Dec. 8.The Chamber of Commerce found several points of concern including proven history that chains do not compete against local business, according to a press release. The Chamber does not see a future threat to the look of the downtown area nor a reason that would justify new legislation.Larry Webb, Cafe Pizzaria co-owner and co-manager, has watched businesses move in and out of Kirkwood Avenue since he started managing in 1972.“They haven’t affected anything as far as I know,” he said. “A hundred of them might. The more that come has to affect someone, but one restaurant probably wouldn’t hurt us. They’ve come and gone over the years.”The biggest effect chains have caused is parking issues downtown, Webb said.“The whole problem down here is that we don’t have parking,” he said. “I worry about losing more parking than I do about chains.” Likewise, Matt Beall, manager of the Laughing Planet Cafe, hasn’t felt the effect of chain restaurants on local business. Chipotle and Laughing Planet Cafe serve similar food but attract different audiences.“Generally, I don’t think (chains) affect us all that much. We haven’t even noticed Chipotle,” Beall said. “We’re more local and in the community, more than just a name.”However, fellow restaurateur David Webb, co-owner and co-manager of Cafe Pizzaria with his father Larry Webb, said that students go to chains more often.“People only eat at chains because they are the ones who can advertise daily and offer deals,” he said. The Chamber also found fault with the vague definition of the word “chain” or “formula-based” restaurant. Without a clear definition, chains like Noodles & Company or BuffaLouie’s could fall under the axe of the ordinance, too. “We have a lot of local businesses that started here and that have expanded,” Hutton said. “If they have one location in Indianapolis, does that consider them a chain?”