1970

The general theme for a panel wasnʼt hard to come by, I simply had to do something reflective of my Greek heritage, which I have come to think may involve not only a cultural inheritance but a genetic one as well. Thinking “Greek” is virtually a default setting for me, indeed some 25 years or so after graduation from Belmont Hill, and 15 years after graduate school, my advisor from those days- who put up with my insufferability back then and for many years afterwards- inscribed a book of his to me with “To Harris Contos- The Original Greek.”   
 

But what particular subject to choose?  The Parthenon? Perhaps too familiar, and I think too much to undertake given my woodworking skills and time available to work on the panel. Poseidon about to launch his trident? Too ambitious an undertaking as well. I then went looking for a depiction of a Greek warrior that I could undertake, and chanced upon a silver-dollar sized Greek coin (drachma denomination I donʼt recall) my family had brought back from a trip “back home” several years earlier, which had the profile of the head with helmet of the warrior I was looking for.  Somewhat to my surprise, it turned out to be the goddess Athena on the coin, who aside from being the goddess of wisdom, also had her warlike qualities (some years later I found out she chose sides in The Iliad).
 

How to transcribe the engraving on the coin to an outline on the blank panel was the next challenge, my drawing skills not being up to that task.  Fortunately Mr. Tognieri was there who not only came to the rescue, but was very supportive and encouraging in my selection. I gave him the coin from which to work, and maybe a day or two later he had the image laid out for me on the wooden square, beautifully rendered and capturing subtleties I wouldnʼt have been able to do.  It then became a matter of getting to work, and here I can say I could draw upon a degree of manual skill and dexterity. I do wish I had been less timid to give the carving more depth, more dimensionality, as opposed to being more bas relief in execution, but perhaps there is a subtle lesson in that too more widely applicable to my undertakings, i.e. donʼt be hesitant, strive for the full understanding, the full expression, the full nature of what you are trying to accomplish.  Hmmm, that “Greek” theme again…  

The image I chose was, I think, borrowed from a Hindu counterpart (maybe Vishnu) of the ancient Egyptian symbol of the snake eating its tail and viewed by Carl Jung in this way: "The ouroboros is a dramatic symbol for the integration and assimilation of the opposite, i.e., of the shadow. This 'feedback' process is at the same time a symbol of immortality, since it is said of the ouroboros that he slays himself and brings himself to life, fertilizes himself and gives birth to himself. He symbolizes the One, who proceeds from the clash of opposites, and he therefore constitutes the secret of the prima materia, which as a projection, unquestionably stems from man's unconscious.” I have often tried to figure out what was going on with me at the time but practically speaking I confess to numerous “rebirths" throughout my lifetime. Maybe transformations is a better description.

My Belmont Hill panel image, carved in 1970, was of the back of my 1948 Cadillac convertible driving away. 

I got a work permit and then a full-time summer job my first year at  B.H.S. I worked in a lab at The Mass Eye & Ear Infirmary mounting stereoscopic slides of eyes and eye diseases. I wanted to work w real people in a workaday world during summers, quite a contrast to time spent at BHS.  I bought that '48 Cadillac w my summer's earnings just before my sophomore year. I have always loved vintage automobiles of the '40s and '50s. 

I got a good education at BHS, but have few fond memories of my six years there. A handful of friends, and my time making art in The  Hobby Shop w Mr. Togneri, made it all bearable.  I've been a painter ever since. Mr. T. was most helpful w his unusual guidance. He is certainly someone I have fond memories of from that time. 

That car, the '48 Cadillac, gave me the freedom to come and go as I pleased. My senior year I left school each day as early as possible. My panel image represented my eagerness to be gone from those years, that place, and onto something I was pretty sure would feel better. 

That was a long time go, 50 years. I don't think back on those years often. Since I was asked to participate here, I wanted to be direct and honest. My life at 67 is quite good indeed. I often tell people that I am the happiest I've ever been at this juncture in time. I suppose everything we experience helps to add up to who we are. I got a kick out of carving that panel. I thought it symbolized the freedom of what was yet to come. 

Jack Millette Mosher

For my panel, I wanted to do something based on Roman or Greek mythology. In the lower forms, we took several courses in ancient history that included sections on Greek mythology. Somewhere along the way I read Homer’s The Iliad and The Odyssey too. Given that two years of Latin was required at Belmont Hill for students entering Form 1, we were well indoctrinated into the history and culture of the ancient world. As such, I became quite enthralled with everything mythological, both Greek and Roman.

In one of Charles Jenney’s Latin text books, there is an illustration of Mercury with his winged heels skimming across a choppy sea with an ancient city on the distant shore. I remember seeing that image for the first time and becoming captivated with everything about it. Most know Mercury as the messenger of the gods, but he is the god of financial gain, commerce, eloquence, travelers, boundaries, luck, trickery and thieves. He also serves as the guide of souls to the underworld. Everything about Mercury was way cool. So I chose that image for my panel. I was pretty happy with it how it turned out.

-Jim Parker

April 28, 2020

My panel was a carving of the White Rabbit from Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. I kind of stumbled on this choice, but it proved apt for a few reasons. At an early age, I was taken with the Wonderland story by way of the Walt Disney cartoon golden book. Naturally, I loved the fantasy, the wordplay, and the nonsense. My panel picture of the rabbit in a coat of arms and blowing a bugle comes from the golden book, or so I remember. The math puzzles embedded in lots of Carroll’s writings were an added attraction for my problem-solving mind.

Also, choosing the white rabbit was my small, subliminal way of alluding to drugs and hallucinogens. Any Jefferson Airplane fan like me would get the reference to their song, White Rabbit – typical lyrics, “One pill makes you larger, one pill makes you small …” and “Remember what the Dormouse said, Feed your head, feed your head.” The rock music of the time, especially the west coast   groups and performers – The Byrds, the Airplane, Big Brother, Janice Joplin, the Mamas and the Papas, the Doors, CSN&Y (but not so much the Beach Boys), was full emersion for me. When I visited my sister at Stanford in 1968 or 1969, I saw Janice Joplin and Big Brother perform at the Fillmore West and was blown away.

I was thrilled at how my Panel turned out. I’m a person with nonexistent wood working skills and/or creativity, so I was sure to botch any complicated carving. But, I’m pretty good at methodically following directions. Mr. T gave me simple step-by-step orders and darned if the White Rabbit didn’t somehow emerge from the wood. Every ten years or so, I made sure to find it somewhere in vicinity of the Belmont Hill dining room and appreciate it anew. I look forward to doing so again, but I’ll need to track down where it is.