News

Distinguished Alumni Award Presented to Emily Scott Brown ’60 April 30, 2010

Emily Scott Brown is one of Philadelphia’s most distinguished painters. She has received numerous grants and awards and her work is in the collections of the Philadelphia Museum of Art and the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts. Associated with Gallery Joe in Philadelphia, she teaches painting and drawing at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts and the University of the Arts.

Mrs. Brown’s work has gone through several transformations over the past forty years. In her landscapes of Pennsylvania and Waldo, Maine, she was particularly interested in the land, the balance between the wild and the cultivated, and the effects of the clear, crisp light of Maine.

Mrs. Brown has also been drawn to still lifes in nature, such as the compost pile in her back yard in Maine, and the concept of constant change and the transitory nature of life. Lately, working in her studio in Philadelphia, she has taken a different approach, executing very large drawings in ink. It’s a courageous form—“fast and chancy,” she says. “There is no turning back.”

Her recent drawings and etchings of water and trees, still based in nature, are yet more abstract. In an artist’s statement, she wrote, “I am intrigued by the challenge of finding and forming a distilled response to experiences outdoors where change is constant, and vulnerable and complex forms abound.

For a distinguished career of distilling and interpreting nature with her unique and ever changing vision, on the occasion of her 50th reunion, we are pleased to give Emily Scott Brown the 2010 Distinguished Alumni Award.

Acceptance Speech

Thank you to the Alumni Association for this wonderful honor! My greetings to everyone present.

It is a joy to be here at the School, and to meet some of you students, faculty, and administrators. I can’t wait to catch up with my old friends in the Class of 1960!

Look at this theater – this was Miss Yarnall’s gym – the rings and trapezes hung from the ceiling; there were horses and mats; the Junior & Senior Proms were right here, so were our Assemblies. I think, too, some SAT’s were taken here in the old gym. (Don’t miss the beautiful new one around the corner.)

There have been quite a few changes since we were here. The Upper School was about half Boarders – exotic girls from other states and other countries. They had a strict curfew. We had no male teachers. No male administrators. Save for the loyal members of the Maintenance Department, there were no men here – except in our thoughts!

Dwight D. Eisenhower was President. It was a time of peace and prosperity. Everyone was white, and nearly all were Protestant. There was a lot of terrific music. Elvis was big. A few other names that come to mind are The Drifters, The Eberle Brothers, and Johnny Mathis. One of my favorites was Ray Charles.

The Civil Rights Movement had just begun. The Pill was brand new and Women’s Lib was to emerge soon. Rowe vs. Wade and Title 9 were yet to come.

We wouldn’t hear of the Beatles for four more years.

But we had our little tricks, like sneaking to a secret place at lunch time to watch “As the World Turns.” I was dazzled by the boarders – they got to have pillow fights and séances at the Ouija Board! I have no idea what other fun they had at night.

I don’t see any green tunics here today. They’re what we all wore daily, unless there was a special reason to wear street clothes. The Dress Code had such rules as – in the unusual event one was allowed to wear street clothes to school – no more than three runs in our stockings. And no makeup. We would say the extra runs happened on the way to school; and we sneaked Tangee lipstick. On a day like today we all sunbathed on the roof outside Miss Ridpath’s little third floor art room.

It seems clear that there are many improvements – and that some of the most important things have not changed.

It is a big surprise for me, being honored in this way. I’ll tell you a little about my own experience as a student here.

I had a shock, coming here in the 9th Grade from Radnor Junior High, not well prepared. I had just turned13 years old. My classmates were impressive girls: facile, strong, smart, playful, and pretty. They all seemed to be very confident. I commuted over three hours each day from Downingtown.

I had not heard of Study Skills – I don’t think I had any; and I have always been a slow reader. I began to wonder if I was in the wrong place.

I did draw, and had since I was a little girl. I drew – and drew a lot – as a way of connecting with the world, and with myself. Both my family and Shipley encouraged the arts, and I will say that this is a wonderful thing – that the arts are vital – whether it is music, visual arts, writing, or performance of some kind – for giving form to experience and connecting one to oneself and to others.

What I saw as the social and intellectual milieu of Shipley was unfamiliar to me, and it was hard. During one low period I confided my loneliness to my father, and his reply was: “Keep your work up and other things will fall into place.”

This was probably pretty good advice. I could not follow it on my own.

A wonderful 9th Grade history teacher, Mrs Masland, took me aside during some free periods, showing me how to scan for essential information and organize and outline notes. The help she gave then tipped the scale for me. Though I was never a star student I enjoyed the course work in various ways.

The courses were fascinating – and challenging. Ideas, information, knowledge of mathematical, linguistic, and biological systems, and of creative work and of wars – of how a culture develops and thrives, influences – and eventually declines.

In doing the course work one must gain great disciplines – of perception, memory, and association, of self-correction and stamina, of patience and courage. These skills are empowering, every day of your life.

Then there are the ways in which the course is taught: who is the person preparing and presenting the material in a personal way.

The English courses always had wonderful literature (in those days mostly British). We’d read & discuss the human story and examine the ways in which our language has been used; to see and appreciate metaphors, style, and beauty. Becoming aware of the art of writing was so important. We had wonderful teachers. I am forever grateful to Mrs Goppelt and Mrs Riely, among others, for their fine standards. And Mrs Etris in Latin.

Another star was Sally Burrowes. A slight woman in a white lab coat, she taught the natural sciences – Biology and Physiology. She loved her subjects. There was a sense of wonder in the connections made in her classes. Each dissection, each lecture, each view beneath the microscope revealed more of the beauty of the order in nature.

Health class – perhaps the school’s first sex ed course – was initiated around 1958. She also taught that. The mother of six, Mrs. Burrowes brought insight and nimble humor to the subject. She had a knack for fielding questions and comments from the class and parlaying them into wonderful discussions about timely issues. She had a progressive attitude in general, encouraging us to examine our assumptions. She seemed to know us. She helped us know ourselves, in fact, through our being actively included in these kinds of talks. Different points of view were aired and accepted. She gave us the courage to think independently and to speak out.

It is a great thing when people love their work. Their work satisfies their expansive longings to be their best, to experience life fully. Their thinking is open, generating outward, resonating with others in creative ways. If such happy people are teachers, their students are most fortunate.

I am grateful for having known such teachers.

It did not dawn on me until recently how much this affected me. In fact, it was central in my eventual decision to trust my own intuitions, to follow my passion and study what I knew I loved.

Being a painter hasn’t been an easy road. I have done a lot of odd things to help pay the bills. But I knew I was lucky to be able to do it, for I love the work.

A common interpretation of the parable of the talents is that you must not hide nor waste what you are given, but put it to good use. I can’t urge you enough to care for and develop your natural gifts, now and through life.

At the same time, if you have a passionate interest, follow it. It may even eventually lead to your main bread and butter – or it may evolve into a treasured avocation. Rally your intelligence and your talents and skills and intuition around it. Stay with it, and it will give you great joy.

Thank you.
Back

News

The Shipley School is a private, coeducational day school for pre-kindergarten through 12th grade students, located in Bryn Mawr, PA. Through our commitment to educational excellence, we develop within each student a love of learning and a desire for compassionate participation in the world.