fandomhigh | Art 101, Period 4, Class 13 (Monday 12-17)

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Art 101, Period 4, Class 13 (Monday 12-17)

"I'm afraid today is the end of our time together," Steve said ruefully. "Today is your final. It's also an art show. I was going to give you a test, but then I remembered art isn't about tests. So, you'll have ten minutes to complete any last-minute setup on your mixed media projects, then, you may circulate, look at one another's projects, chat, and enjoy grape juice and cheese. Your ten minutes begin...now."

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Last time!

James Sullivan

Jamie Madrox

John Sheppard

Savannah Levine

Pam Beesly. Don't ask how the puppy signed in. It probably doesn't look so much like her name as 'P[squigglesquigglelinesquiggledot]'

A.J.

Naminé

Sora

Tell me what your character did and what grade you think they deserve for the project/for the class.

John created a construction paper and Play-Doh mobile, mixing randomly abstract designs with mini Play-Doh sculptures of droid babies. The title card read: Ethics Trauma.

[The sculpture (http://community.livejournal.com/fandomhighdorms/1275961.html?thread=105700921#t105700921) and John probably deserve a passing grade]

Savannah had used clay and metal to make a twisted cage-like design that had fire and abstract shapes in the middle of it. The title card said Caged Spirit

[[B?]]

Pam, puppy though she was, managed to drag her project (with her name on it, conveniently) to class: an elaborate collage, using a variety of materials ranging from paper to wire to felt. ~~Oddly, it was somewhat similar to her player's own final project in her mixed media/creative writing class.~~

[probably A/A-]

Jamie's final project was entitled "Afternoon T"

Which featured Mr. T.

Drinking Coffee.

With Juan Valdez.

And it was an image repeated in Oils, Water color, Playdough and popsicle sticks.

"Mr. Madrox," Steve said to Jamie, his tone completely affectless.

"Hi, Mr. Rogers!" Jamie said gleefully. "Isn't it beautiful and yet relevant?"

"It's very fine, Mr. Madrox," Steve said, and, "catch." With the last, he tossed Jamie an action figure. A Captain America action figure, to be specific.

Jamie looked at the action figure.

And then at Steve.

And then back at the action figure.

And then back at Steve.

This went on for quite a bit.

"Aren't you dead?"

"Officially, but since when did that stop anyone?" Steve asked, semi-rhetorically.

"You don't have a phoenix force thing inside you or anything do you?" Jamie asked. "Because that would mean that Scott Summer would have to visit and I really can't stand him."

"No, son, I don't have the phoenix force." Steve thought that might be a women's thing, anyway. "And Scott Summers is a nice guy."

Somehow, A.J. had managed to be carrying that large piece of canvas around to his various work stations (because it wasn't just mixed media; he felt he should also explore mixed spaces of creativity) and now, into the class. Below, on the canvas, was an elaborate series of slashes and swirls in wide, broad strokes, various different colors but mostly red and black. Cleverly placed, glued, and sometimes embedded into the canvas itself, were metal parts, some of them in their natural found forms, like the rusty Chevy steering wheel, some melded into shapes and curves to correspond with the paint behind it as they moved out of the canvas. Loops of piping, carefully decorated with lines of colorful wire in the grooves, made brief appearances, surfacing and disappearing against through the canvas around strokes of blue.

The title card proclaimed: Surfacing

Naminé's finished project is a stretch of canvas with a half-finished crayon sketch of daisies in a field, with a broken crayon glued in place near where the lines finished. There are clouds painted in a sky above the crayon-marks, with two paintbrushes standing upright and twined around each other with wire. Both paintbrushes still have blobs of paint on the brushes.

Near the bottom is a pipe-cleaner figure having a conversation with another pipe-cleaner figure; a third is half-finished, and his lower body leads back to a row of pipe-cleaners, waiting to be used. Next to that are a few scratches in ink, possibly the text of that pipe-cleaner conversation. It's hard to say, as the ink-bottle is glued in place sideways and ink has spilled out over this area.

The bottom right has a single oragami crane lifting off over a launchpad of a single piece of the same color construction paper.

Taken all together, it's conceivably a 3d scene of a park, with all of the tools frozen in place mid-creation. A little disjointed, but that's deliberate.

The text card next to it simply reads: Fly.

[[Edited because I forgot to add this: If he really is grading on effort and enthusiasm and so on, then she's got an A for both, I think.]]

Edited 2007-12-18 00:10 (UTC)

Abigail's project was a combination of paints and collaging, depicting a cityscape at night.

[B?]

You know when you have an open bottle of glue that tips over on your desk and spills on a bunch of stuff? That might have been what Sora's project looked like.

Not that that's what happened.... at least not at first.

But the piece seemed to have started out as a lot of pictures of his friends and enemies too (http://i13.photobucket.com/albums/a273/Gryffie/KH2/kh2fm_wp_01_1024x768.jpg), polaroids of his keyblade and different clay versions of the keychains plastered about along with some tropical leaves,chinese coins, candy wrappers, tissues, a paint brush, small paint bottle along with a glue bottle... all creatively painted.

It was modern. Yeah...

Mingle, admire the art, and enjoy a lovely cheese platter and Welch's grape juice.

Naminé grinned, wandering around to the other exhibits with a glass of grape juice. Art was so fascinating.

Tell her what a lovely TA she's been! After she signs in.

She is here. She will miss this class.

Steve stood at the front of the room, studying the completed projects and silently marveling that he'd survived his first semester of real teaching. Somehow.

Naminé approached her teacher with a smile. "Thank you for this class," she said.

"Thank you for being my TA," Steve told her with a smile. "I really appreciate it, and I hope you've had a good time."

"I had a wonderful time," she said, nodding. "I loved this class. And the field trip was especially nice, although I wanted to spend far more money than I had at that gift shop. I shall miss it. I wonder that we don't have an art club around here?"

"I don't know why," Steve said, "but you could always start one."

"Well, I ..." Naminé stopped short, considering it for a moment, and all of the many reasons she would usually have for saying no.

"I ... suppose I could," she smiled. "For next semester. Would you be willing to advise us?"

"I'd be glad to," Steve said. "As long as it doesn't meet at the same time as the newspaper. I'm already committed to the newsies, you see." Did they still say newsies?

"Are you?" she laughed. "I shall make sure it doesn't meet at that time, then. I don't know what one does with an Art Club. Hang out and make art, presumably?"

"And talk about art, I would guess," Steve said, "and maybe look at other people's art. I imagine it's up to the members of the art club."

"I suppose it would," she nodded. "The members. I would hope there would be a few. People who could get together and discuss art and ... we could make it up as we went along, couldn't we?"

"You certainly could!" Steve said enthusiastically.

Naminé laughed. "This ... might be fun," she admitted. She lowered her voice a bit conspiratorially. "You don't suppose they'd make me do all of the talking, do you? At meetings?"

"I'm sure they wouldn't," Steve assured her in the same conspiratorial tone. "Unless you wanted to, of course." If they did otherwise Steve would glare at them.

Naminé flushed, relieved. "I'm not as good with talking," she said. "I'll let someone else talk. Or maybe we'll say that Art speaks for itself."

"That works," Steve decided. "Go with that."

Wow, this semester just flew by.

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Art 101, Period 4, Class 13 (Monday 12-17)

Sign In

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Finish Your Project

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Art Show!

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Talk to the TA

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OOC