WP3: Final Draft

Author's Note

Early when class started and we found ourselves outside the Sheldon, I remember that the class started talking about this project before our instructor even arrived. Many had already done their research and had some idea of what the project was. There were rumors of writing letters to statues, then embracing them or doing something else equally ridiculous.

We all hoped that was what it would be. And thus it became.

I jumped on the chance to do this second option, because not only was I running a little dry on rhetorical terms, but I really wanted the ability to be creative and to perform. I used to act in my high school for a while, but I've been out of the circuit for about two years, so I decided I could use this as an outlet. Write up a witty and inspiring work of prose, then over-dramatize it for the rest of the class. Perfect.

Now it's done, and I'm quite pleased with it. Many improvements were made from the first draft, its size more than doubled and I really worked to address the points I had failed to bring up about Serenity. I had taken so much time to research and get to know this structure, I really worked to artfully inject as much of that as possible, and I believe it shows through.

The final stage now is the performance. Dressing like a good Proletarian, I will read the letter aloud for the enjoyment of my peers and the improvement of my grade, yes, but more importantly to address my new friend, Saul Baizerman's Serenity.

Man, I hope he enjoys it!

First Draft

Statement of Purpose

Final Draft

To Serenity, my dear friend,

It has been many weeks now that we have spent together, truly working to get to know one another. So I must tell you all of the things I have learned about you, all that you have inspired, in this time.

Serenity, the first days I saw you, I was merely walking past, on my way to do any number of errands about the grounds in which you reside. You caught my eye, then, with your hunched figure holding desperately to that wall. I dared not come closer, lest I disturb you, but I knew somehow we must meet.

Thus, I sprung at the chance to join you, dive into your soul and find what you and Saul had to offer about the world. We have spent many long hours together, talking, listening, watching, just simply being together most of the time, but it has all been truly enjoyable, an insightful experience, to be sure.

Your dark, rough-hewn metal, protective stance, and mangled body told me, first, a tale of woe and sadness. All I could see was a beaten figure, retracting from the world to shelter it's very soul. Your head, now lost from your body, would have driven itself through these stones, if only to escape, if only to find...

Serenity.

As I traced your form, I noticed its rough exterior. Your skin is almost abrasive, and I see the wear of the world in it. All about you, here, is dust and grime. The skin has turned green, here, oxidized by the wind and the rain. Your naturally dull color has only muted further through these layers of dirt. Who's intent was this, dear friend? Were you meant to stand here and weather the elements unattended, or have you simply been forgotten and mistreated? Shall I take something from this seeming lack of care, or shall I walk through those doors and demand that you are tended, cleaned, and respected as you should be?

And what do I find here? Cracks in your tempered copper form! How long have you had these, Serenity? Who put these in your body? Were you made with them, or did they arrive later? Were they intentional, or just a creation from the world? They give you character, no doubt, but still they make me worry about your state even more. Again, am I to learn more from these, or do I curse the very name of Sheldon and each in its dastardly employ?

Yet now I find here another anomaly! With your beaten and mangled form, your dusty visage and your flawed exterior, here these rapscallions hope to contain you even more! "Do not climb on this structure," it says! Am I not to embrace thee as a fellow brother? They seem not to care for you, your creator left you limbless and without brain, yet I am not to climb on you, for fear of causing damage? What game do these devils play at?

These were all my earliest impressions. They drove me to ask more, to know more about you and the house in which you reside, dear Serenity. There must be more to this, I told myself, and so, even ask the hours drew to a close and I felt I had nothing left to learn from you, I pushed more. I sought what I did not find, to take our connection to its fullest.

And yet, through our time, you taught me more. Here now I see not the brown and rough copper, but its hidden red hues, bright as the very summer days you were crafted. Under all the grime and toil of the world, you still have a warmness about you, a passion for all things. Is this dark and hardened exterior merely a guise, dear sculpture? I see that you are not removing yourself from our very Earth, but instead holding something, cradling something: you are a protector, Serenity, I see that now.

But curse these walls! That I may not see what it is you embrace! Your left arm is gone, exposing your back to the world, and this should make the rest all quite clear. Yet still I see not what you hold! All they allow me is a glimpse at your structure. Here is a square plate of metal, with four thin bars to hold you in place. Yet, as your nature, they twist and turn, seeming to defy any purpose. Could there be something more to you, I began to wonder.

And as I thought, as we spent this time together, I found myself asking new questions, finding new enlightenment through your form. Perhaps these dismal readings are not your purpose, though, Serenity. Perhaps, in the spirit of your very creators, you are protecting us all. You cradle nothing of less worth than the very souls and hearts of Men!

You nurture like a goodly mother and you are protective like a benevolent father. You allude nothing to your sex, and through this quandary you claim power. You are lifted above us, Serenity, yet, like the good Communist your creator had hoped to be, you set yourself below your fellows, shielding them from the harms of the world. You ask nothing of us, yet you give us everything. Is it through this selfless sacrifice, through this uninhibited and unbidden love that you may truly find...

Serenity?

That is why, dear sculpture, I must tell you today the very wonders I behold! You and I are of the same kind, though I be flesh and you are stone. We are brothers, Serenity, children, creations, comrades! Ours are not the toils of ourselves alone, but, rather, the work of all men! Can we not find solace in that? You show me now how very much we need each other in this world, how the struggles of one man should be helped by his fellows. And thus I join you now, to offer myself, as well, to be the bearer of my brethren's fate.

WP3: First Draft

To Serenity, my dear friend,

It's been many weeks now that we've spent together, truly working to get to know one another. So I must tell you all of the things I have learned about you, all that you have inspired, in this time.

Serenity, the first days I saw you, I was merely walking past, on my way to do any number of errands about the grounds in which you reside. You caught my eye, then, with your hunched figure holding desperately to that wall. I dared not come closer, lest I disturb you, but I knew somehow we must meet.

Thus, I sprung at the chance to join you, dive into your soul and find what you and Saul had to offer about the world. Your dark, rough-hewn metal, protective stance, and mangled body told me, first, a tale of woe and sadness. All I could see was a beaten figure, retracting from the world to shelter it's very soul. Your head, now lost from your body, would have driven itself through these stones, if only to escape, if only to find...

Serenity.

As I traced your form, I noticed its rough exterior. Your skin is almost abrasive, and I see the wear of the world in it. All about you, here, is dust and grime. The skin has turned green, here, oxidized by the wind and the rain. Your naturally dull color has only muted further through these layers of dirt.

And what do I find here? Cracks in your tempered copper form! How long have you had these, Serenity? Who put these in your body? Were you made with them, or did they arrive later? Were they intentional, or just a creation from the world? They give you character, no doubt, but still they make me worry about your state even more.

And yet, through our time, you taught me more. Here now I see not the brown and rough copper, but its hidden red hues, bright as the very summer days you were crafted. I see that you are not removing yourself from our very Earth, but instead holding something, cradling something: you are a protector, Serenity, I see that now.

But curse these walls! That I may not see what it is you embrace! Your left arm is gone, exposing your back to the world, and this should make the rest all quite clear. Yet still I see not what you hold!

Perhaps that is not your purpose, though, Serenity. Perhaps, in the spirit of your very creators, you are protecting us all. You cradle nothing of less worth than the very souls and hearts of Men!

That is why, dear sculpture, I must tell you today the very wonders I behold! You and I are of the same kind, though I be flesh and you are stone. We are brothers, Serenity, children, creations, comrades! And thus I join you now, to offer myself, as well, to be the bearer of my brethren's fate.

WP3: Statement of Purpose

For my third and final writing project, I will be crafting a letter directed to the sculpture, Serenity, while discussing its rhetorical appeals as focused through the parallels of its imagery of protection and mutilation. This letter will then be posted on my blog, as well as read and dramatically performed for the structure in front of the class and any other passer-by. All of these aspects present an interesting and new dilemma for the final work.
First and foremost, this project is not the rhetorical analysis of WP1, nor is it truly the creative piece that WP2 became. This will fall somewhere in the center. While there will be scholarly aspects to the letter, from the rhetorical appeals, understanding of the art form, and knowledge of the historical significance of the structure and its artist, the fact that it will be aimed at an inanimate object asks for some level of creativity. The very essence of a letter demands that it has some reader to whom it is directed and who will (hopefully) read it; but these are things a sculpture cannot do. A sculpture has no direct personality or thought process, so this makes empathizing with it by means of written communication more complex than other subjects to which said letter could be directed. Therefore, it is my job to give Serenity a life of its own, in a sense, so that I may better address it.
The next step in the process is to read the paper aloud, directly speaking to the sculpture while indirectly entertaining my instructor and classmates. This asks much the same as the writing of the letter, as, again, Serenity will not truly be listening to my words. Instead, this reading will be more for those around me, including my peers both within the class and without, i.e. any other student or faculty member who may happen to wander through Sheldon's Sculpture Garden at said time. My letter will still be focused upon the sculpture as if it were listening and if it were a real person, but the phrasing may be chosen to be more entertaining to those listening, in order to keep them involved with the presentation of my work.
In this letter, I will address Serenity as a fellow human being, addressing it and commenting upon its structure, mainly about the ideas of its protective stance and mutilated form. Seeing both its pose, by how its back is turned, the position of the legs, and the grasping motion the right arm seems to make, and its disfigurement, meaning the sculpture's lack of head or full limbs, the structure asks much of its viewers, as analyzed earlier, while also taking its title into account. These will be applied throughout the letter, but not for the purpose of full analyzation, but merely as a means for "conversation" with Serenity. These topics will be used to further the discussion about the piece, giving my secondary audience some insight and background while I address the sculpture directly, and work to explore these themes "with it."

WP3: Pre-Write 4

How do I know when a piece is finished? When it has taken away from me everything I have to give. When it has become stronger than myself. I become the empty one, and it becomes the full one. When I am weak and it is strong, the work is finished. -Saul Baizerman

This quote from the Serenity sculptor speaks not only of his own creative process, but also lends itself to the world in which Baizerman lived. As a Russian emigrant in the early 1900s, Saul had been part of the Bolshevik Revolution, dethroning the Czar and working to instill true Communism in his home country. Only a few years later, he would leave their country for America, after serving jail time for robbing a bank to bolster Communist funds.
This life of personal struggle and selfless dedication lends itself to his work. After spending more time with the piece, it became more obvious that Serenity may be cradling something, whether it is just itself or perhaps some other body. This supportive and shielding aspect hearkens back to the ideals of Socialism, each man serving the rest for the greater gain. The fact that he works by hammering copper also reflects the work and struggles of the common man, as metallurgy, especially with elements such as copper, are an ancient and expansive art. The body's mutilation in Serenity, though, suggests that perhaps after all these years (Baizerman fled around 1907, the sculpture began in 1932) the artist had begun to feel let down by his former countrymen, perhaps even harmed by them.

On a larger world scale, it was at this time that several large movements began. Hitler was taking power in Germany, famine swept the USSR, and Roosevelt was enacting the second phase of his New Deal to the American people. By the time the sculpture would be complete, World War 2 would be just on the horizon, with Germany and the USSR joining into their Non-Aggression Pact.

This greater turmoil lends itself to ideas held earlier. Serenity holds itself in a way that evokes some sense of fear about the viewer, but also seems to have a calming undertone, as we notice the protective pose. Each of these nations acted much in the same way, at once protecting their own, while often acting out of fear of other outside powers. America was struggling to escape depression, the USSR wanted stability and did not want to fear the growing German forces, whilst Hitler's Third Reich threw its weight around, hiding the fears that Germany may never regain power and status without this warlord.

WP3: Pre-Write 3

In my last post, I took some quick stabs at the different aspects of Saul Baizerman's Serenity, leaving many questions to the reader and not exploring in too much detail. This post will refocus some of those ideas and give them more concrete basis in their respective rhetorical appeals.
The properties of the copper were brought up last time, but let us explore them further, starting with it's darkened color. From a distance, the statue's metal skin is a dark, almost brown hue. It is not very bright or saturated. This evokes a sense of pathos within its audience, suggesting some dark thought or gloomy air about the piece. It is by this appeal that I noted some sense of sadness about the piece; browns and other dark tones often evoke such moods.
This makes the piece even more interesting, though, when one takes the time to view the structure closer. In this closer view, the copper has a brighter red hue, whose pathos suggests a more hopeful air. Red is a color of passion and life, which, compared to the drab brown seen from a distance, makes an interesting and ironic juxtaposition. Serenity suggests that even as it appears depressed and hopeless to the casual on-looker, there is still a sense that things will be better. It is almost a hearkening to the old saying, "Every cloud has a silver lining."
Pathos can also be drawn from the amount of "person" apparent in the sculpture. When one looks upon the structure, they immediately believe it to be a human body. But why? It is missing it's arms, legs, and even its head, things we normally deem necessary for something to be human. Instead, the viewer's brain fills in the rest of the person. And each person will likely see something different about the missing pieces of the statue that they fill in. Here, too, is a scintillating analyzation on the name, Serenity. The fact that no person can be entirely sure of the structure's facial expression, and therefore mood, makes it so that each viewer sees something different within the piece. The idea of "serenity" is much the same. Each individual has a different idea of what is serene, what brings them peace. Every person will have a separate idea of what "serenity" entails.
Being that the structure is one body, it does not seem that there would be any visual hierarchy about it. But when one slows down their thought and their viewing, they will notice that their eye is drawn about the structure in a particular way. The right shoulder and arm are a standard place to start. Not only is it one of the most reflective sections of Serenity, but it is also one of the most complete limbs. The way in which it curves about the body makes it appear to be whole at first glance, so we begin by expecting that the rest of the missing parts are hidden somewhere, as well. Lighting then takes the viewer across the shoulders, down the back, and across the legs. This is why the audience takes special note of the lack of body parts: both arms could arguably be lost somewhere within the wall, but the rest of the legs seem to miraculously disappear.