All entering students at Princeton Seminary are required to take a year of speech as part of our program. I was somehow lucky enough to land in a section with Professor Brower, who is a wonderful and dear and spunky older man that spent his days on the stages of New York City. He was a professional actor all his life, working in live theater, teaching drama, was featured in a few television shows, and even did a live performance with Frank Sinatra. Professor Brower very quickly won the hearts of my classmates with his 1950's class and charisma, witty banter, diatribes against modern art, and stories of a bygone era.
While other speech classes spent time on newfangled speech techniques, assessed video recordings of their speeches, practiced rolling Rrrr's and whatever else (this was the unfortunate lot of James), my class spent time reading Shakespeare and Auden and Blake and other classic pieces of beautiful prose. And we got to listen to Professor Brower's commentary on all these pieces of art, commentary that brought to life snippets of imagery and emotions and sensations I never would have elicited on my own. His commentary had such a unique humor to it as well - here's a typical Brower line: "Oh, Brower, you say, that's enough rambling about Auden. Well, so what! I'm the teacher, and I know about Auden, so you're going to hear about Auden for a few more minutes. Just relax!"
I stumbled upon a letter Professor Brower sent to everyone in our class towards the end of last year, and it was very inspiring to me in this moment as I seek to begin a new school year filled with vigor and energy and praise. As today was my first day of classes, I realize that I'll miss having Professor Brower once a week. But perhaps if I e-mail him he'll invite me over for tea and to view his art collection. Here is the poem he put in his letter:
In Memory of W. B. Yeats by W. H. Auden
"Follow, poet, Follow Right
To the bottom of the night,
With your unconstraining voice
Still persuade us to rejoice;
With the farming of a verse
Make a vineyard of the curse,
Sing of human unsuccess
In a rapture of distress;
In the deserts of the heart
Let the healing fountain start,
In the prison of his days
Teach the free man how to praise."
While other speech classes spent time on newfangled speech techniques, assessed video recordings of their speeches, practiced rolling Rrrr's and whatever else (this was the unfortunate lot of James), my class spent time reading Shakespeare and Auden and Blake and other classic pieces of beautiful prose. And we got to listen to Professor Brower's commentary on all these pieces of art, commentary that brought to life snippets of imagery and emotions and sensations I never would have elicited on my own. His commentary had such a unique humor to it as well - here's a typical Brower line: "Oh, Brower, you say, that's enough rambling about Auden. Well, so what! I'm the teacher, and I know about Auden, so you're going to hear about Auden for a few more minutes. Just relax!"
I stumbled upon a letter Professor Brower sent to everyone in our class towards the end of last year, and it was very inspiring to me in this moment as I seek to begin a new school year filled with vigor and energy and praise. As today was my first day of classes, I realize that I'll miss having Professor Brower once a week. But perhaps if I e-mail him he'll invite me over for tea and to view his art collection. Here is the poem he put in his letter:
In Memory of W. B. Yeats by W. H. Auden
"Follow, poet, Follow Right
To the bottom of the night,
With your unconstraining voice
Still persuade us to rejoice;
With the farming of a verse
Make a vineyard of the curse,
Sing of human unsuccess
In a rapture of distress;
In the deserts of the heart
Let the healing fountain start,
In the prison of his days
Teach the free man how to praise."
No comments:
Post a Comment