Meeting Lynn
Your Choice: Listen or Read Cranbrook never felt like a school. It felt like a world just slightly tilted from reality—Saarinen’s arches and stone pathways catching the moonlight in a way that made you wonder whether…
Read more →Maker – Writer – Thinker
Your Choice: Listen or Read Cranbrook never felt like a school. It felt like a world just slightly tilted from reality—Saarinen’s arches and stone pathways catching the moonlight in a way that made you wonder whether…
Read more →Your Choice: Listen or Read Art Park in the early 80s was already one of the country’s most revered sculpture parks — a cathedral of air, distance, and monumental ambition. We were there to install Siah…
Read more →Your Choice: Listen or Read I met Shoshana in the fall of my second year at Cranbrook, at a time when my life felt stretched between two cities, two futures, and two versions of myself. Lynn…
Read more →Your Choice: Listen or Read Cranbrook in 1978 didn’t feel like a school. It felt like a world that shouldn’t have existed — part old-world manor, part Saarinen dreamscape, part pressure cooker for people who didn’t…
Read more →Your Choice: Listen or Read When I first crossed the gates of Cranbrook after three days on the road — the Grand Prix sagging under the weight of a canoe strapped to the roof — it…
Read more →Your Choice: Listen or Read Ah, the things we do for art. My first time working with live animals was at my graduate show at Cranbrook, and let’s just say it was a learning experience. The centerpiece…
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Your Choice: Listen or Read Originally written by Remo CampopianoRe-written by Beatrice Lee, then edited into first-person by Molly I packed the car with nearly everything I owned and pointed myself toward Detroit for a three-day,…
Read more →Your Choice: Listen or Read I didn’t know what I was doing in 1981. I was working every day, showing up in that Minneapolis studio, trying to shape something meaningful, but inside I felt like I…
Read more →Your Choice: Listen or Read When I first moved to Minneapolis, I carried a short list of names in my pocket—people I was told I had to meet. Aldo Moroni was at the top of the…
Read more →Your Choice: Listen or Read I think it was 1980. I was still brand-new to Minneapolis, still finding my footing, and still half-convinced I’d landed in the wrong city by mistake. Someone from WARM must have…
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