Page Eight THE MICHIGAN DAILY THE MICHIGAN DAiLY Friday, April 11, 197 It's Glaser all the way By ARLENE WANETICK Milton Glaser lit up the world last year. The balding, miiddle-aged bean- pole of an artist has stamped his characteristic graphics works on all facets of the medium - maga- zine designs, the sleeve of a re- cent Bob Dylan album, and big, bright, wall posters. ART STUDENTS and those in- volved in the art world know that lately it's Milton Glaser all the way: Glaser as chairman of the board of New York magazine; Glaser second in command at Vil- lage Voice: Glaser founding the enormously successful Push Pin Studios for artists in the media: Glaser inspiring adoration as an instructor at New York's School of the Visual Arts. I never expected this granhic superstar to accent my invitation to lecture at the School of Art, but on March 16 I was speeding to- wards Metro Airport to meet his flight. I gave him a two day whirl- wind tour of Ann Arbor, and we became good friends in between. dinner at the Old China, a trio to the Arb, and long, conversations about art. Glaser showed off his touch of artistic eccentricity right from the start when he anxiously asked the color of my car, explaining that ever since a Chinese acupuncturist had warned him that green was his "bad" color, he had emptied his closets of green clothing and had scrupulously avoided riding in green automobiles. I put him at ease with the news that my car was a safe shade of blue, laughing eagerly - and somewhat uneasily -to show him that I had enjoyed his offbeat concern for color. BUT, I WAS SOON put at ease by Glaser's eagerness and charm. He plied me with questions about campus and students, aid I soon discovered that students are what matter to this man. He is vitally concerned with the young would- be artists who follow his career with the devotion of disciples. "You know, when you don't have children" he says quietly, "you can channel the nurturing instinct in other directions; you have pets, you have plants - and then you have students." Glaser stresses determination to his young artists. Talent and apti- tude are imnortant but he believes them to he secondary to wilfulness and a dogged determination to keep working. "'THE PATH of your future emerges on his own" he ex- nsidned. "and we really cannot di- rect it. But believe me, the shane of your life will be determined by what your preconcention of it is, by how attimed you are to what- ever is right for you." Talking with Milton; Glaser, it b(carne obvious that he has al- ways been sensitive to the needs and desires that were uniouely his own. A New Yorker from birth, he remembers being beaten un by the Italian children in his neighbor- hood. He became so accustomed to this ritual that when they didn't show up one day he sat down pa- tiently and waited for them. When you laugh, he shrugs his shoulders and in a voice that seems still edged a little with sadness says, "Well, somehow my day just wasn't complete without that." He leaned back and his eyes grew very thoughtful. "Artists are supposed to be isolated, I suppose. It's a stereotyped idea, of course, but personally I have always felt somewhat 'different'. I can't pre- ciselv identify myself as being American, or male, or Jewish -- T've just never felt comfortable within a specific role." BUT HE HAS a very definite niche if he wants one. As a teacher and model, students are enraptured by him. In the lecture hall, talking with other artists, he seemed trulv at home. He snoke about the various channels onen to artistic talent, claiming that concentration in one asnect is not a necessity. Glaser said in his lec- ture that he himself "gets bored" If he stays in one area of art too long. He says he has no narticular favorite type of work and so does anvthing he seems capable of tack- i . And he seems capable of any- thing. Enormously talented, artic- ulatP and intelligent, he is also involved to his fingertips with the business of encouraging new tal- ent. Tnsoiration was what he was s-Hinz and everyone over at the School of Art was buying it. IjA' AARLENE C. WANETICK F, /I r ,VV1 r I '~ - MILTON GLASER sketched a portrait of his new found friend in the front of her book on Glaser's graphics. The hat on her head and the unreadable signature in the lower corner are his, but the figure he drew is definitely her. S}}a" Fi}}:::{.vr::.rr y:{"}:rwf: r.;{:,-::}x np{{{.}:c; "r,."r.}" "{."s : rv.: ::: r v :v:.:: x:."f>:."::."."." v .v::".v:"."r:.:w"r." ...........:v ".v. s-rf.:"cv> " ""x v." v "f." ""xi " v .. rr, "r.: r:. "}8i : " :: J."". ".f".: v v.::: :w:,." .. {: ir C;:. . ....". v{ ". :"x:: i:: :4: i4"."....."; ." " ;'":"n " C:?},v. }"." ., " " :.?;. :"".;:.} }}:1V.'t:f l. .}......: J......::: }f::. J:.....Y}:::":: }:.11":V ~:'.Y::tii ::'} f: ... M::..w"J:: C.tiS':Jl: v:: A'::.f ... J...... lA.f: . }JJ ... .... .... .......... .ovs::w:{%:as..v:a."."J.".".r:n-m.."."."..v.."."avJ::::."S.r" . Having tea with Martha Cook By SARA RIMER When golden boy John Reuther came to a Martha Cook tea last fall during his ill-fated Congres- sional bid, he lost a handful of Second Ward votes with his open- ing remark. "Isn't this all a little irrelevant?" Reuther asked, with a skeptical glance towards the silver teapot and groups of students small-talking in -the ornate Gold Room. Some people would dismiss the all women's dorm, which still bans the bedrooms to men overnight and pampers its residents with maids and waitresses, as irrelevant. While many of the residents would argue with that judgement, no one has ever cared to make Martha Cook's sedate afternoon version of the TGIF relevant. Militant Mar- tha Cookies, as the women are nicknamed with varying-degrees of affection, leave teas out of their crusades for revolution within the Virgin Vault. THIS YEAR the women corrupted the strictly all-tea affairs with the addition of coffee and Red Zinger tea on Valentine's Day, but no one has yet taken seriously the suggestions of some residents to spike the brownies. Any attempts at that type of radical change would cause "poor Martha to roll over in her grave," one resident. commented. Most women admit frankly to their prime motive in attending teas - food. Martha Cook's home- made drawing cards are the brown- Detroit TWO MEN who succumbed to the Martha Cook spell solicited an invitation to tea last fall, billing themselves on the dorm bulletin board as "attractive senior men interested in meeting traditional women." Resident still laugh about those two "lonely" young men. Visitors dulled by the airport waiting lounge decor of modern dorms are usually stunned by the Gold Room's opulence when they first step inside for tea. They brand the palatial room's gold bro- cade chairs, plush carpet, and or- nately carved piano as "hotel" or "museum" style ,according to how far back in time they place its set- ting. In one corner an imposing grandfather clock booms forth with authority every fifteen min- utes, almost limiting conversation to small talk out of sheer practi- cality. There was a genuine Ming Vase, until someone with a keen eye for value walked off with it during a mixer last year. Martha Cook women have been kicking off their weekends with a delicate tap and tea since 1915 when the dorm first opened its ele- gant chambers. The old rules may crumble, and men may yet make the grade as Friday night room- mates, but the traditional Gold Room teas will continue to set the weekend's revelries a-brewing. Even one resident, who fled the Vault's opulence after a year, con- ceded the social value of regular attendance at teas, "It's easier to small talk with my grandmother's friends now." :z;: {: , :: Jf' iJ ,-,. il" " J " if : j'") l it 'til Dealing: A narc's view By GORDON ATCHESON The 30-ish man with the close- cropped hair sat smugly in the wit- ness chair as he fired off his testi- mony in clipped, one word answers. Dressed in a green double-knit suit, the weak-chinned guy de- scribed his role in a marijuana bust. IN A WORD he worked as a narc --for the state police. As an undercover agent, he un- derwent a full scale transforma- tion from straight man to counter- culture freak. His costume which included patched jeans and flow- ered shirts, a beard and shoulder length hair, was a smashing suc- cess. His job was to pick up tips from an "informant," who in exchange for money and probably other fav- ors which the state police would be unlikely to disclose, lets the agents know what's being sold and by whom. THEN, THIS narc, masquarading as a hippie, moves in and tries to negotiate a buy with the unas- suminz dealer. In this case, the narc's victims were five students attending a col- lege in the Upper Peninsula (UP). They sat stone - faced in the court, as the narc testified in his self- righteous, gloating manner. IN THE typically slow, involved mating-dance between buyer and seller of illegal substances, the quintet had agreed to furnish the agents with 100 pounds of mara- juana, after a series of meetings in hotel rooms, restaurants, and finally a desolate parking lot on North Campus. The agent described how he and his associates had tried to pur- chase hard drugs from the stu- dents, but settled for the dope when they refused the initial re- quest. THUS BEGAN a string of events the students had experienced time after time with buyer after buyer - but on this occasion it was to end in a rude shock. After a meeting in a UP motel, both groups - the narcs and the students - arrived separately in Ann Arbor. A second get together was held in a hotel here. At that session, the nares flash- ed a suitcase filled with $10,000 in cash - payment in full for the grass. The participants agreed on a site for the transfer of goods. In each case the talks had been bug- ged and recorded by the state po- lice in order to build a case against the five. Finally, it was time for the ex- change. The parking lot was dark and lonesome. The nares arrived in a van and the students in a late model four-door hard top. From the trunk, the kids remov- ed six large brown bags containing the marijuana. Two at a time, the bags were carried to the van. Once that was completed, the narcs ap- proached the students, but instead of handing over the suitcase full of money, they flashed their badges and drew their guns. The five had lived it and now, sitting in the court room, they were again feeling those same pangs of fear, anxiety, and shock. ................................... ........... Daly Photo by PAULINE LUBINS ies that disappear at alarming speed to make room for the stand- in Chips Ahoy and Lorna Doone's. One woman said between bites, "I like the food and the conversation on occasion." Another agreed, "I like teas because of the food, but they do seem kind of provincial." She suggested, "We could have a Friday beer bash." One male guest who refused to be named joked at what he considered the affair's pretention, "I just like to come and chat." Some people back off from in- vitations to tea, fearing a swarm of be-ribboned and organdy-dress- ed women. While one woman has been known to hold court in a strapless, full length leopard gown, most sprawl on the floor or sofas in jeans. But the luxury that repels some draws others like a gilded magnet. a r.":"'r: i:Ci }p}%.:v.".":: {-v.v; ::or:::. : e: nv.1 : :-".. : vo.".u..., . .".Y: "": :5:: " :".41".1:":." 1"Y 1:": N.. "1111YJ... ,'. ..7.. . .............. :. ............ 1..... .... ..J : Demolition Derby: Vrrooom-crunch! By JO MARCOTTY The audience at the Detroit Spring Championship Indoor De- molition Derby was a family crowd that screamed bloody murder. Mothers and fathers with children in tow glued their eyes to the ring as the demolition cars tore madly around the Michigan State Fair Coliseum - each driver intent on demolishing the other vehicles. The crowd could have been attending ancient Romes gladiator games, only in this case the warriors wore loose fitting armor - the steel bodies of battered Pontiacs, Olds- mobiles, Fords and Chevrolets. But the basic premise of destroy, mu- commented, "Whew, it's a blood thirsty crowd tonight!" But the objectives of the partici- pants was more difficult to deter- mine. When asked why he like to drive in demolition derbys, Mike Montgomery replied, "I don't know why I drive in them I honestly don't know. I've always worked with cars, I like fixin' 'em, but I don't know why I drive in the der- bys." Ed Jones, the announcer of the event, compared driving in the derby to climbing a mountain. "Ev- eryone has their own thing. Some men climb mountains, some men drive in demolition derbys." The battle was on when thi starter dropped the green flag and the drivers gunned their vi cious sounding engines and roarei into the center of the ring - back wards. They continued to tear fur iously around the arena seeking t' smash the front end of an oppon ent with the tail end of their owi vehicles. After the final heat, when th thick, choking, dust and exhaus filled air had cleared away, thi drivers left their war torn steed on the battlefield and disappeare into the pit. The twisted, smokinl wrecks lay dead and dying in th arena. The crowd. their lust for de