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<strong>Rochester</strong><br />

Review<br />

<strong>University</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>Rochester</strong><br />

Winter 1980-81<br />

Challenging the Whirling Wheel<br />

<strong>of</strong> Change<br />

An interview with<br />

Provost Richard D. O'Brien<br />

Page 1<br />

Lighting a Sun on Earth<br />

Laboratory for Laser Energetics<br />

Page 8<br />

The Great 'Removal Project'<br />

Conclusion: A Dream Attained<br />

Page 10<br />

Wall Street's 'Riverboat Gambler'<br />

Pr<strong>of</strong>ile <strong>of</strong> Guy Wyser-Pratte '62<br />

Page 16<br />

Aaah, Cheesecake!<br />

Including recipes for same<br />

Page 19<br />

Departments<br />

<strong>Rochester</strong> in Review 21<br />

Alumnotes 27<br />

Travel Corner 38<br />

In Memoriam 39<br />

Photos in this issue illustrating the<br />

<strong>University</strong>'s past were lent by the<br />

<strong>University</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>Rochester</strong> Library and<br />

Northrup, Kaelber and Kopf, architects.<br />

ROCHESTER REVIEW. Winter 1980-81;<br />

Editor: Margaret Bond; Copy Editor: Ceil<br />

Goldman; Staff Photographer: Chris T.<br />

Quillen; Staff Artist: Shirle Zimmer;<br />

Alumnotes Editor: Janet Hodes. Published<br />

quarterly by the <strong>University</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>Rochester</strong> and<br />

mailed to all alumni. Editorial <strong>of</strong>fice, 108<br />

Administration Building, <strong>Rochester</strong>, New<br />

York 14627. Second-class postage paid at<br />

<strong>Rochester</strong>, New York 14692.<br />

USPS 715-360.<br />

Opinions expressed are those <strong>of</strong> the authors,<br />

the editors, or their subjects, and do not<br />

necessarily represent <strong>of</strong>ficial positions <strong>of</strong> the<br />

<strong>University</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>Rochester</strong>.<br />

Letters<br />

Mt. Hope<br />

<strong>Rochester</strong> Review is always worth reading, but<br />

the Fall 1980 issue was <strong>of</strong> special interest to<br />

me because <strong>of</strong> the fascinating article about Mt.<br />

Hope Cemetery.<br />

My father, the late Arthur Cowell '03 Cornell,<br />

head <strong>of</strong> landscape architecture at Penn<br />

State from 1915 to 1926, took his graduating<br />

class each spring to see Highland Park and<br />

Mt. Hope Cemetery. He later designed the<br />

lovely Wintergreen Gorge Cemetery in Erie,<br />

one <strong>of</strong> the early ones that prohibited large<br />

monuments in the belief that cemeteries should<br />

be parks for the living. It was the money<br />

earned from this work that kept me at the<br />

Eastman School during the Depression years.<br />

I am sorry to admit that I have never visited<br />

Mt. Hope but I shall do so when I attend my<br />

fiftieth reunion soon.<br />

Jane Cowell Krumrine '32E<br />

State College, Pennsylvania<br />

I'm bewildered by the rapturous exaltation<br />

<strong>of</strong> Mt. Hope Cemetery in Rowland Collins's<br />

essay "Our Quietest Neighbor" in the Fall '80<br />

issue <strong>of</strong> the Review. Surely there is no political<br />

reward to be harvested from such praise, and,<br />

although he points to some picturesque architectural<br />

delights (pardon my necrophilia),<br />

Mr. Collins must be aware <strong>of</strong> what all my<br />

teachers, friends, and acquaintances at UR<br />

felt about Mt. Hope: It is solely responsible<br />

for causing the necessary but unfortunate cluttering<br />

<strong>of</strong> the campus since the 1960's.<br />

It is too late in this or the next millennium<br />

to change this situation, and it is "nice" that<br />

we have made the best <strong>of</strong> it, but such effusive<br />

praise seems forced to this reader. Come on<br />

now: Wouldn't there have been much happier<br />

ways <strong>of</strong> preserving "the quiet and beauty <strong>of</strong><br />

the campus"?<br />

Roger Silver, '60<br />

San Francisco<br />

Warfield remembered<br />

The Eastman and Warfield articles (Summer<br />

1980) combine to revive metnories <strong>of</strong> my<br />

pre-UR days. Growing up, I dressed for<br />

school to the stentorian blast <strong>of</strong> the old Kodak<br />

Park whistle, which must have awakened<br />

hibernating animals for miles around. It was<br />

probably inevitable that <strong>Rochester</strong> public<br />

school curricula included music using Eastman<br />

School techniques. William Warfield also grew<br />

up in this atmosphere, although not as close to<br />

that whistle!<br />

<strong>Rochester</strong> Senior Inter-High School Choir<br />

rehearsed Saturday mornings in the basement<br />

tuning room <strong>of</strong> the Eastman School. (I can<br />

still recall the crowd <strong>of</strong> teenagers stoking up on<br />

nickel White Tower hamburgers behind the<br />

school during rehearsal breaks.) The 1937-38<br />

choir chose Warfield as its president. For the<br />

sake <strong>of</strong> younger readers, it should be added<br />

that in those years racial integration was pretty<br />

much in the future. But Warfield's personality<br />

and talent overcame the prevailing attitudes,<br />

and he was by far the most popular person in<br />

the choir.<br />

During the following season, when Bill was<br />

a freshman at the Eastman School, he <strong>of</strong>ten<br />

sat in the back during Inter-High rehearsals<br />

and almost always was asked to sing for the<br />

choir.<br />

When the choir held a twenty-five-year<br />

reunion, Bill Warfield was there, although it<br />

is likely that he had barely known most <strong>of</strong> us<br />

by sight twenty-five years earlier.<br />

Despite the extent to which he has become<br />

known in music circles, there are many <strong>of</strong> us<br />

who feel that his phenomenal talent has not<br />

received the public recognition that it so richly<br />

deserves.<br />

Harry C. Wiersdorfer '43<br />

Hamburg, New York<br />

More theater lore<br />

My husband and I felt a personal identification<br />

with the article "Mr. Eastman's Theatre"<br />

(Summer 1980), especially the paragraph that<br />

began, "The oddest feature <strong>of</strong> the restoration<br />

was probably also the least noticeable," and<br />

went on to tell the story <strong>of</strong> the two metal<br />

washtubs metamorphosed into light fixtures by<br />

"an ingenious artisan." That person was my<br />

father-in-law, Thillman F.J. Fabry. Our family<br />

has always relished the tale <strong>of</strong> the tubs as<br />

he related it to us.<br />

We remember another favorite anecdote<br />

connected with the theater. The statue <strong>of</strong> a<br />

small, naked boy graced one <strong>of</strong> the corridors<br />

near the mezzanine. When a strait-laced but<br />

influential dowager complained about its "indecency,"<br />

Mr. Fabry was consulted. He suggested<br />

a simple solution-the proverbial fig<br />

leaf. After taking a plasticine impression, he<br />

carved and applied the requested cover-up-a<br />

far cry from his carvings in Kilbourn Hall!<br />

Many buildings and private homes here and<br />

in other cities attest to his talents as a wood<br />

carver. He was a truly remarkable man and<br />

we, his family, revere his memory.<br />

Marion Fleck Fabry '25<br />

<strong>Rochester</strong><br />

Unaccountably, in my earlier letter (Fall<br />

1980) about visits to the Eastman Theatre as a<br />

child during the twenties, I forgot to mention<br />

the goldfish! In the main lobby, just <strong>of</strong>f Main<br />

and Gibbs streets, there was a large, centrally<br />

located, built-in table that stood about four<br />

feet <strong>of</strong>f the floor. Marble-topped. Heavy<br />

metal legs, bronze or brass. In the center <strong>of</strong><br />

the marble top stood a giant urn-shaped glass<br />

aquarium. The top <strong>of</strong> the urn, which was<br />

enclosed with the same metal as the table legs,<br />

(continued on p. 40)

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