Aperture
Like Freud discovered in his office, reflection can be powerful. The reflection of famous (framed) alumni through this window on the Clarence Brown Theater onto Hess Hall remind us of our roots; we all began our UT journeys as first-year, dorm-living students. And by giving us this view, this albeit dirty window provides us with a fresh, opaque connection to the Volunteer Family, past and present, and a bright shining light cast over our futures.
We often forget about the window—we press our faces up against the glass and gaze at the sights on the other side. But every so often, we are given a little reminder--a misplaced mustache, a faded sticker, that will appear day and night, just as the window does—that shows us the window deserves as much (if not more) attention than the sight on the other side. Without the window, there would be no “other side” to see, and for this we should be humbled.
The beauty of the window is its ability to convey information to both sides of its viewers—but what happens when one of these sides is taken away? To those who only use windows as frames, like a camera, to see through, it becomes null, nothing. But to the curious onlooker who sees the window in its ability as a reflector of light during daytime, it becomes a special opportunity to harness this ability and connect the window to its environment not by looking through but by looking at.
As a species, we cling to things we love—people, clothes, food dishes, etc.—and views are no exception. This window is reminiscent of one I photographed through two years ago of the Statue of Liberty from the Staten Island Ferry in New York City. The dirt on these windows was not from neglect but from love—because of how much people loved the views of Lady Liberty and of the outdoors (from the dark, artificially lit halls of McClung Tower and the HSS building).
The sadness of neglect, the loss of a connection to the outside because of a detrimental (and wet) connection. But in this loss, the window still holds strong in one of its other purposes—the bird’s eye view, and now, it is even stronger. Peering through the glass, you are suddenly flying, surveying the ground and, through the luck of your timing, discovering patterns and beauty in the mundane mowing of the lawn, mimicking the rounded green letters of the note.