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SPELMAN SPOTLIGHT
Friday, February 26, 1965
Woriq
BE ON THE LOOKOUT!
If you enjoy reading or if you
want to become aware of the
joy of reading, be on the look
out for posters looking like the
one above. They will tell you
the book, reviewer, time and
place of books being reviewed
on Spelman’s campus. You are
being invited to read along with
others and discuss your views.
Any suggestions as to titles to
be reviewed will be kindly ap
preciated. Write your suggestion
down on an index card with your
name. Please address the card
to box 268 and place it in cam
pus mail.
—Clara Prioleau
THE SOPHISTICATED PLAYGOER
On December 3, 4 and 5,
1964, in the Fine Arts Theatre,
the Atlanta-Morehouse-Spelman
Players presented Federico-Gar-
cia Lorca’s, “The House of Ber-
nada Alba.” The play was di
rected by Dr. J. Preston Coch
ran, and headed by an “all-star”
cast: Alberta Foster, Shirley
Cox, Anne Harvey, Adrienne
Lanier, Cecelia Perrin, Demar-
is Allen, Berlyn Chatard, Vic
ky Gary, Pamela Brown, and
Charlotte Harris.
In an attempt to evaluate
the Spelman production as be
ing a success or failure, it is
necessary to view it from a
rather obscure perspective. In
most cases the audience is the
judge of the worth of a play or
its production; however, at
Spelman there seemed to have
been an exception to this rule—
the play judged the audience!
To say the least, the production
was a success, but the audience
was a Flop! Judging from the
audience’s reaction, one would
have thought Mack Sennet was
presenting one of his famous
slap stick comedies. The play
was no comedy, nor was it per
formed in a humorous manner.
However, due to the lack of
perception on the part of our
dience, a beautiful tragedy of
the first rank was received as
cheap burlesque. The obvious
paradox which exists remains a
mystery to those of us who try
to evaluate the audience’s re
action. Why - if we are sophis
ticated members of an academic
community - do we react in
such a childish, immature man
ner? Are we afraid to escape
into the realm of reality? Do
such productions threaten to
puncture the dream-like vac
cuum in which we have enclos
ed ourselves? Did some of the
lines or situations strike too
close to home? Or, was it that
some were so embarrassed that
they could no longer hold the
tensions that mounted wiihin?
What is the answer?
The true “sophisticated play
goer” never would have acted
in such a manner, for he is
perceptive, compassionate, able
to release himself, and above
all—intelligent. He (or she)
would have realized that Ber-
nada was a domineering, ty
rannical woman who wears her
mask well, but was not the "Rock
of Gibraltar" she pretended to
be. It would have been obvious
that Maria Josefa was pathe
tic, not comical, but that her
felt needs, longings and frustra
tions of the Bernada household.
Finally, the “sophisticated play
goer” would have known that
the main characters were re
presentative of symbols rather
than individual beings.
The Spelman audience was
not sophisticated, not mature,
and surely not intelligent. Per
haps the next time a play of
this sort is presented, the hand
bill should read, “This Is A
Tragedy — Please Do Not
Laugh.”
The production itself was
one of the finest displays of act
ing, technique, direction, and
interpretation ever seen at Spel
man College.
The forthcoming production
is “South Pacific” by Rogers
and Hammerstein. It is a musi
cal comedy, but it has depth. In
the proper places the audience
is invited to laugh. Yet remem
ber, there is more to it than
meets the eye!
—Alberta Foster
CHRISTMAS
CAROL CONCERT
A SUCCESS
Every year at Christmastime
the Atlanta-Morehouse-Spelman
Chorus, the Morehouse College
Glee Club and the Spelman Col
lege Glee Club present the
Christmas Carol Concert. The
concert has won wide acclaim
and has become a tradition here
at Spelman.
This year’s concert was real
ly superb and was performed
all three nights to a packed au
dience.
The theme of carols from
many lands clearly demonstrat
ed that in Christ, we are all one.
The differing languages, tem
pos, and texts showed the mus-
icality and versatility of the par
ticipating choral groups.
The Spotlight wishes to con
gratulate all the choral groups
on a job well done.
Margaret and her Family
A CHAPTER FROM MY DIARY
Whenever someone asks me
to tell or write about my ex
periences in Europe last year,
I never know what to say or
how to start saying it. Innum
erable incidents, places and peo
ple immediately pop into my
mind. But how do you success
fully and meaningfully relate
to others something that is ac
tually so personal? No one will
ever really know how close I
felt to my Austrian family. No
one will ever really know what
I saw when I looked up at the
stained glass windows of Notre
Dame and Chartres. No one
will ever really know the joy
I felt as I rode through the
Spanish country-side and mir-
standing and accepting things
which are different.
During my fourteen months
of study and travel, I used ev
ery means of transportation
from plane to canoe and my
traveling companions number
ed from 160 to 0. As you can
imagine, some of my fondest
memories are of the times I
spent traveling alone.
Once, four of us, all girls,
took a car and drove through
Spain. I won’t even attempt to
tell you how exciting that was.
We became a very closely knit
family and we all adored the
car. We even gave it a name—
“Hardback", Geschnitz von Zau-
berwinkelweg". Quite a name?
gled with the poor but happy i It was quite a car. There was
people. These memories are
mine to keep, to relive a thou
sand times. At most. I can only
hope to entertain you with some
amusing incidents or try to help
extremely “sophisticated” au- J character expressed the deeply | you see the necessity of under-
never a dull moment. As we
drove back through southern
France, we all felt sad because
we knew we’d soon be parting.
I will never forget the Mon
day morning when we took all
of our junk out of “Hardluck”
for the last time. Nobody said
very much, we just worked.
About noon, Ingrid, Barbara
and I climbed onto the Paris
bound train. We waved good
bye to Ann and “Hardluck”
and wished them a happy trip
back to America. Our little
group was falling apart. The
three of us stood silent all the
way to Paris.
The following Friday meant
more goodbyes. At the very
beginning of our little invasion
of Spain we had adopted “Side
By Side” as our official theme
song and we never missed a day
singing it at least once. So there
we were, the three of us stand
ing in the middle of Paris’ north
station singing our hearts out.
At ten o’clock Barbara’s train
pulled out of the station. In
grid and I waved until her red
kerchief disappeared around
the bend. The group was now
down to half size. Twelve hours
later, we boarded an express
bound for Munich, Germany.
It was a gray, overcast Saturday
when the train arrived at Haupt-
bahnhof in Munich. From the
very beginning, we had planned
to split up and go our separate
ways but none of us had thought
beforehand that it would be so
hard to do. This was the end
of our little group. Ingrid and
I ate our last meal together. We
ordered sausages and bread
from one of the stands in the
station. Ingrid was going on to
Salzburg the same day. I was
going to stay in Munich a few
days and then go on to Berlin.
I left Ingrid in the station and
went in search of a room. I
was hoping to find one quickly
and get back before her train
left. I was lucky. When I got
back to the station we sat on
one of the hard stone benches
and talked about the good times
we’d had together. The train
backed into the station and In
grid boarded it. We talked on
through the window. Then with
out whistle or other warning,
the wheels started to turn slow
ly and the train eased out of
the station. I waved until it
was out of sight. A few seconds
later, I realized that for the
first time during the fourteen
months I had been in Europe
I was completely alone. There
was no more group. It was
quite a strange feeling—one of
loneliness, but yet one of ex
citement and anticipation.
I took the trolley to the
youth hostel. As we rambled
through the streets, I stared
rather blankly out of the win-
(Cont. on page 6)