Rachel Sauer

From Huffy to high tech, it's been a wild ride

Rachel Sauer — Fri, 05 Sep 2025 19:29:05 +0000

From Huffy to high tech, it's been a wild ride Rachel Sauer Fri, 09/05/2025 - 13:29

Rachel Sauer

For 91ɫ�� alumnus Todd Carver, what he learned in the lab as a student inspired industry-rocking innovation in developing digital bike-fitting technology

For a long time, one of the unspoken truths of cycling was that if you ride hard and long enough, it’s going to hurt: foot or hand numbness, back pain, shoulder pain, the list is extensive.

Every rider feels it differently. For Todd Carver (IntPhys’00, MIntPhys’02), “my lower back is the problem. I struggled with my position but finally got to the point where I could ride pain-free as I understood the human body more and was actually able to make changes to my position on the bike.

“Plus, the bike’s adjustable, right, so you can move the seat, you can adjust your touchpoints to the bike, your hands, butt and feet can all be adjusted. And if you don’t adjust those and just plop yourself on the bike, there’s a chance you’re not going to perform well and you’re going to get injured.”

91ɫ�� alumnus Todd Carver (IntPhys’00, MIntPhys’02) co-founded Retül, a bike fitting and product matching technology now used by professional cycling teams, performance centers, rehabilitation centers and bicycle retailers worldwide.

While working with Bill Byrnes and Rodger Kram, associate professors emeritus in the 91ɫ�� Department of Integrative Physiology, in the Applied Exercise Science Laboratory during his graduate studies, Carver began wondering if competitive cycling—or even long-distance recreational cycling—needed to end in pain.

“The big thing the cycling world was missing was information about the rider—the human aspect,” Carver explains. “How should riders fit on a bike? How do you position a rider to be powerful, efficient and perform well? All the things I was learning in my academic career under Bill Byrnes and Rodger Kram—the focus of my research—was in predicting cycling performance, who’s going to perform well and who’s not.”

The problem was, there just weren’t that many tools to assess a rider’s position on their bike and give them a three-dimensional, dynamic bike fit. So, Carver and two colleagues developed one: Retül, a bike fitting and product matching technology now used by professional cycling teams, performance centers, rehabilitation centers and bicycle retailers worldwide.

Retül wrought such a change in the cycling world that Specialized acquired it in 2012. Now, as head of human performance for Specialized, Carver continues to innovate at the vanguard of cycling fit and performance.

“Riders just want to be pain free,” Carver says. “And even if they don’t care about being fast, they don’t want to push on the pedal and not go or push on the pedal and it hurts.”

Bike = freedom

Carver discovered young that pushing on a bike pedal is bliss and freedom in equal measure. “My first bike was a Huffy, and it was frickin’ rad,” he recalls. “As a kid, I realized that on a bike I can go way farther. So, I had this Huffy that I rode around the neighborhood, and it gave me a lot of freedom as a kid.”

Celebrate cycling (and correctly fitted bikes) Sunday, Sept. 7, at the Buffalo Bicycle Classic!

Learn more

His first “real” bike as a recreational and then competitive cyclist was a mountain bike, which he rode while figuring out what to do during the several years he lived in Breckenridge between high school and college. “I moved to Breckenridge and just got hooked on endurance sports, especially mountain biking, and I said, ‘I need to go study the science of this.’”

He came to 91ɫ�� and joined the cycling team, eventually realizing that he didn’t want to pursue professional cycling and that the science of riding held a lot more fascination for him. Plus, he brought to the performance lab and insiders knowledge of the problems cyclists could have.

“One of the studies that we did with Rodger (Kram) was measuring aerodynamic drag on bikes, and I saw how big of an opportunity fit was,” Carver says. “You can have a really fast bike, and that’s good, but the human body makes up 80 to 90% of drag.

Todd Carver (left) works with a cyclist to gather data for a bike fitting. (Photo: Todd Carver)

“To this day, we still do that analysis with all of our pro riders. We take them to the velodrome, measure aerodynamics and then work with fit to try to improve it. I’d almost say that one of the biggest impacts we’ve had is helping send professional and career cycling more toward science.”

After earning his master’s degree, Carver worked at the 91ɫ�� Center for Sports Medicine, where he and an engineer colleague, Cliff Simms, soon realized that people were flying in from as far as Europe to get fitted for bikes. He wondered why they couldn’t get fitted in their hometowns, “and it really came down to the technology. For a bike shop to get the digital technology was too expensive and it was too hard to run—you basically would need a master’s degree in biomechanics to do it—so this engineer friend and I started to look at how we could break down those barriers.”

They began developing a motion-capture system that measures length and trigonometric relation between small LED markers placed all over the cyclist’s body and synchronized to flash at certain times, a process that happens in milliseconds. 3D cameras positioned around the rider record the data, which is immediately analyzed and used to fit riders to bikes with millimeter precision.

Affordable, portable, easy to use

With partner Franko Vatterott, Carver and Simms founded Retül in 2007 with a goal of making bike fitting more affordable, portable, easy to use and data driven.

“I say I got my MBA starting a company,” Carver says. “I knew nothing, and I learned it starting a company. One big thing we learned is you better have a darn good product, and what we felt we had was a really good product, so that made some things easier. We didn’t need to take investment initially; we were able to just bootstrap it and work off the money we were making (during development).”

They also were building a database containing everything they were learning about different types of bodies and how they fit on bikes—data they knew would be appealing to bike manufacturers. In fact, he adds, the goal was always to sell to Specialized, which had worked with doctors on ergonomic design and lacked only data from digital fitting.

Todd Carver (right) shows a cyclist data from a digital bike fitting. (Photo: Todd Carver)

They initially worked with professional riders, drawing on connections Carver had made with riders in 91ɫ�� performance labs, and marketed Retül to fitting pro teams. “Then bike shops were coming to us saying, ‘We’d like to buy one of your systems.’

“From the rider point of view, what I was hearing was, ‘Wow, that feels way better, and it’s easier for me to pedal’ or ‘That completely got rid of my injury and now I can push harder.’ The problem might not be the bike itself, it just might be the saddle or the shoe or the footbed, or it just might be that the rider needs to reposition themself on the bike. From the rider point of view, that’s powerful because they could see that bike shops weren’t always trying to sell them a new bike, but had the data to say, ‘Let’s try a new saddle.’”

‘More fun with data’

As head of human performance for Specialized, Carver continues to work with riders at all levels and in all areas of cycling.

“We work in optimizing athlete and product performance using science,” Carver says. “In addition to fitting pros and selling fit systems to retailers, we do a lot of research and development—we take that fit knowledge we have and are able to then use that for ergonomic design of saddles, shoes and hand grips.

“How hand grips are shaped, for example, affects how a rider’s hand sits, which can mean the difference between a comfortable hand and one that goes numb. So, what we do is prototype and test and gather data for better design. We do so much work in saddles, which is the hardest thing on a bike to get right, so we’re always testing with pressure mapping.”

The overarching goal, Carver says, is to solve riders’ problems, “and that’s more fun with data.”

Carver often considers whether his life’s work is science or art, and figures it lives somewhere between the two: “We use scientific tools, have all these ranges, but we can’t know everything from that. I think that’s where the art comes in. You need to work with a lot of different riders—some who just want to ride bikes down to the grocery store and don’t want to be aerodynamic or fast—and you have to be able to empathize with that as well as the more competitive side of cycling. You have to have the human side, too, and really read people, have really good interviewing skills and listening skills to know what they want to do on a bike.

"I think I can empathize because I still love to ride, and I still feel that freedom when I get on my bike.”

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about integrative physiology? Show your support.

For 91ɫ�� alumnus Todd Carver, what he learned in the lab as a student inspired industry-rocking innovation in developing digital bike-fitting technology.

Traditional

White

New exhibit celebrates ceramics at 91ɫ��

Rachel Sauer — Wed, 27 Aug 2025 23:09:59 +0000

New exhibit celebrates ceramics at 91ɫ�� Rachel Sauer Wed, 08/27/2025 - 17:09

Rachel Sauer

Opening Sept. 5 at the CU Art Museum, ‘Shaping Time: CU Ceramics Alumni 2000–2020’ focuses on themes including the environment, domesticity and rituals of home and material connections

The joy—and sometimes frustration—of ceramics may be found in its contradictions: its fragile strength, its rough refinement, its elastic rigidity. Drop it and it might shatter, or it might survive millennia.

“It’s a material that’s about so much transformation,” says Jeanne Quinn, a 91ɫ�� professor of art and art history. “It goes from being very plastic and malleable to something that’s more like stone. And embedded in ceramics is all kinds of material meaning. Our students who are trained in ceramics are really trained to dig into technical mastery with the material but also dig into how you find meaning in the material itself, how you’re using the material as metaphor.”

Myers Berg Studios, United States, …in plain sight, 2025, ceramic, maple, "Shaping Time: CU Ceramics Alumni 2000–2020," CU Art Museum, Sept. 5–Dec.19, 2025. (Photo Rachel Sauer; © Myers Berg Studios)

For students in the 91ɫ�� ceramics program, the material also represents connection to an artistic lineage that has grown in breadth and renown through successive cohorts. It is a lineage nurtured by ceramics faculty Quinn, Scott Chamberlin and Kim Dickey, who have been teaching together and broadening the program for 25 years.

It is the length of those associations, in fact, that planted the seed of what has grown into the exhibit “Shaping Time: CU Ceramics Alumni 2000–2020,” kicking off with an opening celebration Sept. 4 at the CU Art Museum and opening to the public Sept. 5.

“CU has a really long history of investing in ceramics and having a very strong ceramics program,” Quinn explains. “Kim (Dickey) had this idea that it’s our silver anniversary of teaching together, we have this incredible group of alumni, so many amazing artists who have come through, as undergrads, as post-bacs and as grad students, so we should create an exhibit to celebrate that.”

A ceramic tradition

91ɫ�� has long championed the arts and supported artists, including ceramic artists who have created a student-focused program that prioritizes learning, technical mastery and artistic exploration. The ceramic program was significantly bolstered by Betty Woodman, an internationally renowned artist whose 2006 retrospective show at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City was the first such show by a living female ceramicist, and who taught at 91ɫ�� for 30 years.

Shaping Time: CU Ceramics Alumni 2000–2020

What: The 91ɫ�� ceramics program is celebrating its history with faculty Scott Chamberlin, Kim Dickey, and Jeanne Quinn. To honor the achievements of artists who graduated from this program, faculty curators are partnering with the CU Art Museum to present a retrospective exhibition.

When: Opening celebration Sept. 4 from 4–6 p.m.; exhibit opens to the public Sept. 5-Dec. 19. There will be an all-day symposium celebrating the exhibit Sept. 5.

Where: CU Art Museum

Learn more

Chamberlin was a colleague of Woodman, and Quinn was a student of both Woodman and Chamberlin before joining the ceramics faculty in 1997.

“In this program, there is a real commitment to ceramics and its incredibly rich history,” Quinn says. “Every civilization from the beginning of time has had ceramics, so it’s an incredible kind of medium to work with and have the opportunity to reference all that. But I also feel like we have a very non-dogmatic approach to teaching—there’s so much history, but also so much space for experimentation and invention.

“Ceramics is a very demanding material. Anybody who’s ever sat down and tried to throw a pot on the wheel realizes oh, you don’t just toss this off. Every step requires real skill, real technical skill, but we’ve worked to build a program where students receive this amazing education in learning how to learn and learning how to grapple with the material and how the material can offer so many different avenues of expression.”

Erica Green, a post-baccalaureate student in the program between 2011 and 2013 and one of the exhibit’s 30 featured artists, credits the ceramics program’s emphasis on exploration with helping her forge her path as an artist.

“Ceramics is always my first love, but the nice thing about this department is you’re encouraged to follow the idea and not just the material,” Green says. “One of my professors in the program suggested I set clay to the side and focus on fiber and being more in tune with the material.”

Green’s work in the exhibit, “California King,” centers on a bed covered in a blanket of knotted felt and wool-blend fibers. “I work a lot in knots as a metaphor for mending and repair and healing.”

Artist Lucero Aguirre, who earned an MFA in the ceramics program, created the quilted tapestry “Mije” to include thousands of iridescent ceramic sequins—bringing together “the spaces of brownness and queerness in its sequined message,” Aguirre explains. “The term ‘mije’ is a gender-neutral version of the often-used Spanish term of endearment ‘mija,’ or daughter.”

In transforming “mija” into “mije,” Aguirre considers the “affective labor of navigating brownness as a queer subject. The piece responds to the way that intimacy is often gendered in Mexican and Latine spaces, leaving queer Latine bodies at once inside and outside.”

Erica Green assembles her work "California King" (2022, knotted fibers on mattress) for the "Shaping Time: CU Ceramics Alumni 2000–2020" exhibit opening Sept. 5 at the CU Art Museum. (Photo Rachel Sauer; © Erica Green)

‘You can do anything with clay’

Quinn emphasizes that even though the exhibit celebrates the ceramics program, it also includes textiles, video works, photography, live performances and other media. “(The exhibit) runs the gamut of materials, but the unifying piece is that you can see that sense of commitment to the craft, to really handling a material with authority and also expressing something beyond the material.”

The hardest part, she adds, was choosing exhibit participants “because we’re in touch with all of these alumni, we’re following what they’re doing, they’re sending us updates.”

At the same time the exhibit participants were being chosen, Quinn and her colleagues were working with CU Art Museum staff to envision and plan the exhibit—a time-intensive but rewarding process, says Hope Saska, CU Art Museum acting director. Saska also partnered with Quinn, Dickey and Chamberlin to organize an all-day symposium September 5 celebrating the exhibit; it will include performances, conversations and in-gallery artist talks.

“You say ceramics and people have this idea of, ‘Oh, you’re making pots on the wheel,’” Quinn says. “And ceramics certainly fits in this kind of lane, that is absolutely part of what we teach. But you also have an artist like Casey Whittier, who made thousands of ceramic beads and then strung them together into this gorgeous textile piece that hangs on a wall. Casey has taken ceramics, which you might think of as fixed and static, and then created this piece that hangs and moves and is as much a textile as it is ceramics.

“So, we want people to come to the exhibit, and especially we want students to think, ‘Oh, you can do anything with clay.’”

Lucero Aguirre, mije, 2024, handmade and lustered ceramic sequins, thread and batting and fabric, "Shaping Time: CU Ceramics Alumni 2000–2020," CU Art Museum, Sept. 5–Dec. 19, 2025. (Photo: Rachel Sauer; © Lucero Aguirre)

Linda Nguyen Lopez, United States (1981), Gummy Worm, Ombre Dust Furry, 2021, porcelain, "Shaping Time: CU Ceramics Alumni 2000–2020," CU Art Museum, Sept. 5–Dec. 19, 2025. (Photo: Rachel Sauer, © Linda Nguyen Lopez)

Joanna Powell, United States (1981), Flower Vessel no. 1, 2019, earthenware, majolica, gold luster, "Shaping Time: CU Ceramics Alumni 2000–2020," CU Art Museum, Sept. 5–Dec. 19, 2025. (Photo Rachel Sauer; © Joanna Powell)

Sandra Trujillo, United States (1967), Mosaic - Yellow, 2024, Mexican Smalti (glass), Wedi (polystyrene board), wood, steel, "Shaping Time: CU Ceramics Alumni 2000–2020," CU Art Museum, Sept. 5–Dec. 19, 2025. (Photo: Rachel Sauer; © Sandra Trujillo)

Julie Poitras Santos, United States (1967), The Conversation, 2019, single channel video, "Shaping Time: CU Ceramics Alumni 2000–2020," CU Art Museum, Sept. 5–Dec. 19, 2025. (Photo: Rachel Sauer; © Julie Poitras Santos)

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about art and art history? Show your support.

Opening Sept. 5 at the CU Art Museum, ‘Shaping Time: CU Ceramics Alumni 2000–2020’ focuses on themes including the environment, domesticity and rituals of home and material connections.

Traditional

Matthew McConnell, United States (1979), Didn’t Miss a Thing, 2023, dark stoneware, twine and twist ties on steel panels, "Shaping Time: CU Ceramics Alumni 2000–2020," CU Art Museum, Sept. 5–Dec. 19, 2025. (Photo Rachel Sauer; © Matthew McConnell)

White

Top image: Matthew McConnell, "Didn’t Miss a Thing," 2023, dark stoneware, twine and twist ties on steel panels, "Shaping Time: CU Ceramics Alumni 2000–2020," CU Art Museum, Sept. 5–Dec. 19, 2025. (Photo: Rachel Sauer; © Matthew McConnell)

That lightbulb represents more than just a good idea

Rachel Sauer — Tue, 08 Jul 2025 18:39:18 +0000

That lightbulb represents more than just a good idea Rachel Sauer Tue, 07/08/2025 - 12:39

Rachel Sauer

In research recently published in Science, 91ɫ�� scientists detail how light—rather than energy-intensive heat—can efficiently and sustainably catalyze chemical transformations

For many people, the role that manufactured chemicals plays in their lives—whether they’re aware of it or not—may begin first thing in the morning. That paint on the bedroom walls? It contains manufactured chemicals.

From there, manufactured chemicals may show up in prescription medicine, in the bowls containing breakfast, in the key fob that unlocks the car, in the road they take to work. These products are so ubiquitous that it’s hard to envision life without them.

Professor Niels Damrauer and his 91ɫ�� and CSU research colleagues were inspired by photosynthesis in designing a system using LED lights to catalyze transformations commonly used in chemical manufacturing.

The process of transforming base materials into these desired products, however, has long come at significant environmental cost. Historically, catalyzing transformations in industrial processes has frequently used extreme heat to create the necessary energy.

Now, continuing to build on a growing body of research and discovery, 91ɫ�� scientists are many steps closer to using light instead of heat to catalyze transformations in industrial processes.

In a study recently published in Science, Niels Damrauer, a 91ɫ�� professor of chemistry and Renewable and Sustainable Energy Institute fellow, and his research colleagues at 91ɫ�� and Colorado State University found that a system using LED lights can catalyze transformations commonly used in chemical manufacturing. And it’s entirely possible, Damrauer says, that sunlight could ultimately be the light source in this system.

“With many transformations, the economics are, ‘Well, I need this product and I’m going to sell it at this price, so my energy costs can’t be larger than this amount to make a profit’,” Damrauer says. “But when you start to think about climate change and start to think about trying to create more efficient ways to make things, you need different approaches.

“You can do that chemistry with very harsh conditions, but those harsh conditions demand energy use. The particular chemistry we are able to do in this paper suggests we’ve figured out a way to do these transformations under mild conditions.”

Inspired by plants

Damrauer and his colleagues—including first authors Arindam Sau, a 91ɫ�� PhD candidate in chemistry, and Amreen Bains, a postdoctoral scholar in chemistry at Colorado State University in the group of Professor Garret Miyake—work in a branch of chemistry called photoredox catalysis, “where ‘photo’ means light and ‘redox’ means reduction and oxidation,” Damrauer explains. “This type of chemistry is fundamentally inspired by photosynthesis. A lot of chemistry—not all of chemistry, but a huge fraction of chemistry—involves the movement of electrons out of things and into other things to make transformations. That happens in plants, and it happens in photoredox catalysis as well.

“In photosynthesis, there’s a beautiful control over not only the motion of electrons but the motion of protons. It’s in the coupling of those two motions that a plant derives functions it’s able to achieve in taking electrons out of something like water and storing it in CO2 as something like sugar.”

Further inspired by photosynthesis and a plant’s use of chlorophyl to collect sunlight, the research team used an organic dye molecule as a sort of “pre-catalyst” that absorbs light and transforms into a catalyst molecule, which also absorbs light and accelerates chemical reactions. And because the four LED lights surrounding the reactor are only slightly brighter than a regular home LED lightbulb, the transformation process happens at room temperature rather than extreme heat.

The molecule is also able to “reset” itself afterward and harvest more light, beginning the process anew.

“We set out to understand the behavior of a photocatalyst that was inefficient at this process, and my student Arindam discovered there was this fundamental transformation to the molecule occurring while we did the reaction,” Damrauer says, adding that the team discovered there are key motions not just of electrons, which is essential for photoredox, but also of protons.

“In our mechanism, the motion of the proton occurs in the formation of a water molecule, and that very stable molecule prevents another event that would undermine the storage of energy that we’re trying to achieve,” Damrauer says. “We figured out what the reaction was and, based on that reaction, we started to make simpler molecules.

“This was a really fortuitous discovery process: We were studying something, saw a change, took the knowledge of what that change was and started to design systems that were even better. This is the best advertisement for basic science—sometimes you can’t design it; you’ve got to discover things, you’ve got to have that freedom.”

A sunny future

Damrauer, Sau and their colleagues in the multidisciplinary, multi-institutional Sustainable Photoredox Catalysis Research Center (SuPRCat) are continuing to build on these discoveries, which happen at a small scale now but may have the potential for large-scale commercial use.

In an essay for The Conversation, Sau noted, “Our work points toward a future where chemicals are made using light instead of heat. For example, our catalyst can turn benzene—a simple component of crude oil—into a form called cyclohexadienes. This is a key step in making the building blocks for nylon. Improving this part of the process could reduce the carbon footprint of nylon production.

“Imagine manufacturers using LED reactors or even sunlight to power the production of essential chemicals. LEDs still use electricity, but they need far less energy compared with the traditional heating methods used in chemical manufacturing. As we scale things up, we’re also figuring out ways to harness sunlight directly, making the entire process even more sustainable and energy efficient.”

Damrauer adds that he and his colleagues aren’t trying to change the nature of manufactured chemicals, but the approach to how they’re made. “We’re not looking at making more stable paint, for example, but we’re asking if it costs a certain number of joules to make that gallon of paint, how can we reduce that?”

In addition to Niels Damrauer, Arindam Sau and Amreen Bains, Brandon Portela, Kajal Kajal, Alexander Green, Anna Wolff, Ludovic Patin, Robert Paton and Garret Miyake contributed to this research.

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about chemistry? Show your support.

In research recently published in Science, 91ɫ�� scientists detail how light—rather than energy-intensive heat—can efficiently and sustainably catalyze chemical transformations.

Traditional

White

Top image: dreamstime.com

Artist features the beauty of nature on a 140-foot canvas

Rachel Sauer — Fri, 20 Jun 2025 15:21:21 +0000

Artist features the beauty of nature on a 140-foot canvas Rachel Sauer Fri, 06/20/2025 - 09:21

Rachel Sauer

‘The Tender Hand of the Unseen,’ an immersive video installation by 91ɫ�� artist Molly Valentine Dierks, is featured through June on D&F Tower in downtown Denver

It happens most often in autumn and winter, when large flocks of starlings roost in protected spots like woodlands, marshes and even buildings. Before settling for the night, often in the gloaming twilight, they sometimes paint the sky in formations called murmurations.

Hundreds—sometimes thousands—of starlings dance in undulating, ever-shifting shapes, a spontaneous choreography that fills the sky like the liquid fall of silk.

One day after class while she was earning her MFA at the University of Michigan, Molly Valentine Dierks saw a murmuration of starlings. She pulled out her phone to capture it—footage that wasn’t as good as she’d like it to be but that nevertheless captured a transcendent moment of ephemeral sculpture in the sky.

Molly Valentine Dierks is an assistant teaching professor in the 91ɫ�� Department of Art and Art History.

Memories of that murmuration guided her in creating “The Tender Hand of the Unseen,” an immersive video installation that is a featured work through June on D&F Tower in downtown Denver, part of the Night Lights Denver program.

For Dierks, an assistant teaching professor in the 91ɫ�� Department of Art and Art History, her work represents a confluence of many influences, musing on the nature of time and referencing periods of growth and rebirth.

As a sculptor and interdisciplinary artist, “and also a nature geek—I’m really interested in the idea of this physical sculptural performance in the sky,” Dierks explains. “They’re stunning, the patterns are beautiful, the way that they change is really gorgeous, plus there’s something about the idea of moving intuitively as a group that I think as human beings we don’t have or we’re not comfortable with. This society of beings is so in sync with one another that they can move as a fluid unit, and it’s also performance and also art.

If you go

What: "The Tender Hand of the Unseen" immersive video installation

Where: D&F Tower, 1601 Arapahoe Street, downtown Denver

When: Evenings through June

Learn more

“As an artist and educator, particularly in the classroom I really encourage my students to get in touch with their intuition and develop spiritual understanding of who they are. For me, as an artist, there’s something about looking at big flocks of birds that gets me in that state. We’re all so comfortable looking at screens, for example, but as a society we’re not really encouraged to just look at sky. (This piece) is an excuse to encourage people to look at sky, even though it's a screen that is sneakily subverting that tension.”

A 140-foot canvas

Public, site-specific art and installations are defining aspects of Dierks’ practice for their ability to foster healing, stillness and growth, she explains. So, when a friend told her about the Night Lights Denver program, she contacted the curator, David Moke, with her idea for a large-scale installation focused on starling murmurations.

When her proposal was accepted, the work of art began. The murmuration she recorded in Michigan didn’t work—there were a lot of trees in the way—so she worked with footage shot in the Netherlands that would be crisp and clear when projected onto the side of D&F Tower, a 140-foot canvas.

Molly Valentine Dierks' immersive video installation "The Tender Hand of the Unseen" will show on D&F Tower in downtown Denver through June. (Photos: Molly Valentine Dierks)

She manipulated and sculpted the footage on her computer, then did test projections from the parking garage near the tower that houses the Night Lights Denver projection center.

“I would bring a thumb drive with an hour-and-a-half of tests, and I just sat there and took a bunch of notes to figure out the best settings,” Dierks says. “(The footage) was taken at different times of day and in different weather conditions, so I could start to see that if the background was too dark or too blue or too purple, I couldn’t see the starlings as well as I wanted.

“I played with timing as well, slowing the footage down in spots and thinking about grains of sand or sand in a timer. I was looking for crescendos—not just contrast and brightness, but does it feel like a piece of music?”

The tender hand

The name of the work is a line from the poem “On Pain” by Kahlil Gibran, which also says:

And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;

And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.

“We all go through difficult times: we go through grief, we go through breakups, and I found poetry kind of a resting spot for me,” Dierks explains. “I could read a poem and get outside the nuts and bolts and bureaucracy of everyday life and get to the heart of what I feel, after a while I started naming my pieces after lines in poems that spoke to me about certain stages in my life.”

In describing the work, Dierks wrote, “The work is my way of confronting a socially fractured landscape, where screens more frequently mediate our understanding of self … overshadowing more embodied connections to each other and the natural world.”

The piece is Dierks’ first large-scale projection, and although there’s really nowhere to hide with a 140-foot public canvas, Dierks says she wouldn’t want to. “There’s something really nice when you install in public, outside of the art world, (where) people don’t have to go to a gallery … I prefer it in a lot of ways.

“(D&F Tower) is in this beautiful area on 16th Street and there’s a park so people can walk around and look at it. When I did the first test last August, I could see people stopping and looking at it, looking at these beautiful formations, these birds in flight—just taking that moment to stop and look.”

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about art and art history? Show your support.

‘The Tender Hand of the Unseen,’ an immersive video installation by 91ɫ�� artist Molly Valentine Dierks, is featured through June on D&F Tower in downtown Denver.

Traditional

White

We still need a bigger boat

Rachel Sauer — Tue, 17 Jun 2025 17:02:38 +0000

We still need a bigger boat Rachel Sauer Tue, 06/17/2025 - 11:02

Rachel Sauer

Fifty years after ‘Jaws’ made swimmers flee the ocean, 91ɫ�� cinema scholar Ernesto Acevedo-Muñoz explains how the 1975 summer hit endures as a classic

On June 19, 1975, it wasn’t such a terrible thing to feel something brush your leg while frolicking in the ocean. It was startling, sure—humans’ relationship with the ocean has long harbored a certain element of fear, says 91ɫ�� Professor Andrew Martin—but the rational mind could more quickly acknowledge that it was probably seaweed.

That changed the following day, when a film by a young director named Steven Spielberg opened on screens across the United States. On June 20, 1975, to feel something brush your leg in the ocean was to immediately think, “SHARK!”

Ernesto Acevedo-Muñoz, a 91ɫ�� professor of cinema studies and moving image arts, regularly teaches "Jaws" in Introduction to Cinema Studies.

Are sharks really as scary as their reputation?

In the 50 years since “Jaws” made people flee the water for fear of sharks, the film has become widely recognized as a cinematic landmark.

“’Jaws’ is a movie I teach regularly in Introduction to Cinema Studies—yes, it’s that important,” says Ernesto Acevedo-Muñoz, a 91ɫ�� professor of cinema studies and moving image arts, adding that “Jaws” also is an important case study for misconceptions, including the evolution and de-evolution, of the term “blockbuster.”

A disaster-horror movie

The cinematic landscape in which “Jaws” arrived was one of greater daring and a transition away from the focus on producers in the classical Hollywood era to a focus on a new cohort of directors—“mostly men, mostly white,” Acevedo-Muñoz acknowledges—who studied cinema in college and were greatly influenced by the French New Wave.

“With the collapse of the Hollywood studio system, suddenly there’s more opportunity for creativity, for edgy content,” he says. “In the late ‘60s, early ‘70s, you have some movies that really were trailblazers in what’s unofficially called the American New Wave. ‘Bonnie and Clyde,’ 1967, comes to mind—nobody had seen that kind of romanticization of violence and graphic violence before.”

Young directors like Spielberg, Francis Ford Coppola and Martin Scorsese were more in touch with the counterculture of the time, and old-guard producers, recognizing these young mavericks might be lucrative, green-lit projects like “The Godfather,” “Mean Streets” and “Jaws,” Acevedo-Muñoz says.

“There’s incentive to be risky in that juncture of the ‘60s to the ‘70s,” he notes. “Then to that context you add the economic crisis of the early 1970s, the recession and unemployment, plus the end of the Vietnam War, heads are getting hot and people are angry.

Creating doom in two simple notes

It’s possible for a universe of dread to exist between two notes: duu-DU … duu-DU

Just two notes, played with increasing urgency and speed, let moviegoers know that a shark is coming, and fast.

An element of the genius of John Williams’ Oscar-winning score for the film “Jaws,” released 50 years ago Friday, is how much it conveys in just those iconic two notes.

“Williams layers melodic tension in these notes with an increasing rhythmic motion—he accelerates the speed in which we hear the notes, and he accelerates their frequency,” says Michael Sy Uy, a 91ɫ�� associate professor of musicology and director of the American Music Research Center. “When you combine that with the emotions attached to the fear, anxiety and dread of being attacked by a shark, then we start to feel how this music is living with and entering our ears, and it makes us feel actual anxiety or dread.”

The two notes of duu-DU are separated by the closest interval in Western musical notation that our ears are trained and socialized to hear, he adds—a half step—that, when played in succession, can help listeners feel a sense of melodic tension.

In the case of the “Jaws” soundtrack, it can help listeners feel a deep dread. In fact, some scholars argue that “Jaws” would not be the cinematic landmark it is without John Williams’ score.

“It’s hard to imagine movies today and over the past five decades without their soundtracks,” Uy says. “We make music a part of the storytelling because music can add an extra layer of meaning. It can contradict what is happening in a scene between actors, or it can validate what they’re saying. Music can tell the story even when words don’t.”

Learn more about 91ɫ��'s film and television soundtrack connections in the American Music Research Center's Dave Grusin collection. Grusin is a Grammy-winning composer, contemporary of John Williams and 91ɫ�� alumnus.

“The crises of the 1970s are one of the reasons why we have the flourishing of the disaster film at that time. I would point first to ‘The Poseidon Adventure,’ which is the best of them all, and ‘The Towering Inferno,’ ‘Earthquake.’ And to a certain extent, ‘Jaws’ is a hybrid of the classic horror monster movie and the 1970s disaster movie.”

The dire economic background of the early 1970s was important to “Jaws” and other disaster films, Acevedo-Muñoz says, because “a disaster movie, like a horror movie, tells us we are going through a really rough time, but if we all work together and we make a few sacrifices, we’re going to get out of this OK. If we follow the lead of Paul Newman or Steve McQueen or Gene Hackman, we’ll eventually get out of this all right.”

Driving the buzz

“Jaws” is often called the original summer blockbuster, but relentless repetition of this idea does not make it true, Acevedo-Muñoz says: “There’s no one movie we can point to as the original summer blockbuster.”

In fact, he adds, the term “blockbuster” really refers to the end of a classic Hollywood distribution and exhibition practice called block booking: If theaters wanted to show big-draw feature films, they also had to book smaller, cheaper, shorter films that came to be known as “B movies," which "were made quickly by 'B units' that often reused sets or even costumes from the big movies to cut costs. But scholarship on B movies has argued that because the studios weren’t paying too much attention to those units, some of the B movies were rather edgy and interesting."

Block booking meant that the producers and distributors controlled a lot of what was in exhibition venues, "but there were occasionally movies that may have broken that pattern, and those were in some ways the original blockbusters—as in busting the block of block booking practice," he says.

While “Jaws” did break box-office records of the time, it’s also noteworthy in cinema history as one of the first miracles of marketing, he says. It was based on a mega-bestselling book by Peter Benchley, one that was optioned for film while still in galleys, and the film marketing piggy-backed on the name recognition of the book.

Further, “Jaws” was one of the first films to intentionally create buzz as part of the overall publicity and marketing plan, including strategically leaked tidbits from the film’s set on Martha’s Vineyard.

On its June 20, 1975, opening day, “Jaws” was one of the most prominent films to benefit from a practice called “front loading,” which meant making more prints of the film and showing it in as many theaters as possible, rather than the previous practice of rolling openings from largest to smallest markets.

“The marketing and distribution team of Universal Pictures also decided to take a front-loading approach with ‘Jaws,’ so that it was playing everywhere,” Acevedo-Muñoz says. “Or almost everywhere. It still took months to get to my hometown, but we knew it was coming, and that anticipation was building.

“So, ‘Jaws’ is important because it was this consolidation of these different practices of marketing, creating buzz, creating anticipation, creating tie-ins—it put all these things in one place that were practices that had been around before the summer of ’75 but afterwards became the model.”

As for the film’s effect on moviegoers and their summer vacation plans? “I know a lot of people,” Acevedo-Muñoz says, “who refused to go swimming after they saw ‘Jaws.’”

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about cinema studies and moving image arts? Show your support.

Fifty years after ‘Jaws’ made swimmers flee the ocean, 91ɫ�� cinema scholar Ernesto Acevedo-Muñoz explains how the 1975 summer hit endures as a classic.

Traditional

White

Protesters taking freedom of assembly to the streets

Rachel Sauer — Thu, 12 Jun 2025 22:15:23 +0000

Protesters taking freedom of assembly to the streets Rachel Sauer Thu, 06/12/2025 - 16:15

Rachel Sauer

91ɫ�� conflict scholar Michael English explains why public protests matter and what they can mean in the current political and social moment

One of the most storied protests in U.S. history happened Dec. 16, 1773, when a group of Massachusetts colonists, angry with British tax policy, dressed in Indigenous garb, boarded British East India Company ships anchored in Boston Harbor and dumped 342 chests of tea into the water—the infamous Boston Tea Party.

In response, however, British authorities did not amend tax policies but instead closed the harbor.

“If you look at the way we talk about the Boston Tea Party, here’s this event that we don’t generally describe as starting a revolution from violence,” says Michael English, director of the 91ɫ�� Peace, Conflict and Security Program. “We start with people dressing up and doing this mass protest where they destroy some business owner’s property, which is something we’ve historically tended not to support.

91ɫ�� scholar Michael English, director of the Peace, Conflict and Security Program, is a specialist in conflict analysis and resolution.

“Then, in the 1780s, we get Shay’s Rebellion, where poor debtor farmers come into Boston to try to preserve what’s left of their farms, and the state raises a militia to put down this protest. Throughout our history, things bubble up and then there’s this backlash. It’s just an interesting quirk of this country that we embrace protest and hate protest.”

That central tension of public protest has been above the fold this week as federal troops have been called in to respond to Los Angeles protests over ICE raids and as No Kings protests are planned in cities across the country Saturday.

What does it mean when people gather to protest—a right enshrined in the First Amendment? English recently considered this and other questions in a conversation with Colorado Arts and Sciences Magazine.

Question: Do public protests matter or make a difference?

English: A protest is something that, at least from a scholarly perspective, is there to send a message to people in power. As someone sympathetic to protest as a great American tradition, I have to say yes, protest matters. What does it do? That’s a more open question. In some sense, it can start us thinking about whether protest itself is the goal, or whether we want it to lead to something more.

Take the No Kings protests—is the goal to get President Trump to change a specific policy? It doesn’t appear to be so, and that’s not how protest organizers are framing it. Instead, it seems to be, ‘We want to bring a whole lot of people out to express that we are very unhappy about the direction of our country and what appears, to people sympathetic to the protests, as this power consolidation within the executive (branch).’ If millions and millions participate Saturday and we have protests on the scale of Black Lives Matter or Occupy Wall Street or protests against the war in Iraq—if they are able to bring those people out—did this protest do what it set out to do?

If that happens, I think we could answer yes. If they bring a lot of people out and the protests stay nonviolent and not a whole lot of negative things are associated with them, then we can begin to explore whether this is part of something larger, or whether it is this just a one-off thing that sent a message?

Question: Has what’s happening in Los Angeles, with federal troops called in to respond to public protest over ICE raids, brought a new layer to current protest?

English: These are new times, yes, but in some ways, there are parallels in the past. The National Guard has been called out at different points—in fact, Gavin Newsom did invoke the National Guard during Black Lives Matter protests, which is not even that far in the past. What’s happening now in Los Angeles does raise really interesting questions. When you look at movements in the past and look at the military being deployed, it’s usually been in service of the movement—school desegregation or Johnson enforcing the Voting Rights Act. These were actions in favor of the movement. Then there’s everything after, which has been the National Guard being sent out to quell unrest.

California National Guard members and protesters in Los Angeles in June 2025. (Photo: U.S. Northern Command)

In Los Angeles, there wasn’t actually a lot of unrest until you started bringing more and more force in, whether that’s more police, then the National Guard, then threat of the Marines. That’s a real thing we should worry about, because it does create a mirroring tension where people may escalate because they feel that those on the other side of them are prepared for confrontation.

Question: Is nonviolence still central to public protest in the United States?

English: I would say yes, there still seems to be a fairly significant commitment to nonviolence. But the further we get away from the civil rights framing of nonviolent protest, the harder it is for people to understand what that means and what goes into it. We’ve seen that the discipline between people participating in these events now seems to break down a little quicker, and there isn’t the same build-up over time of participants receiving training to participate (in nonviolent protest). There are some really interesting videos of James Lawson getting civil rights protestors ready for the freedom rides, and the training was they basically beat you up to make sure you wouldn’t respond. If you couldn’t do that, you weren’t going to get sent into that situation.

I think for the most part people are still committed to nonviolence as a strategy to bring social change, but in the same breath I can say that there’s always been a kind of violent contingent associated with protests in the past.

It’s easy to assume, when we look backwards, that we can tell a rosy story of civil rights movement, but we would be missing episodes that weren’t so friendly. If you look at Black Lives Matter protests, 95% of those protests were nonviolent, but the ones that get our attention are always the ones where violence occurs, and that’s just how movements work. Organizers of movements can certainly intervene, and you see that in the No Kings messaging, this attempt to say, ‘We need to police this; these are strategies for helping people who seem disruptive or are not at the same level of discipline.’ It gets back to the question of whether everyone who’s participating in a protest is on the same page and, if not, is public protest the best strategic choice for the movement?

Question: How have social media affected or changed how public protest happens?

English: It’s a real mixed bag at the moment. On the one hand, I watched the Arab Spring protests on my computer at work—I watched the protests in Tahrir Square and watched these folks engage across Facebook at the time—and that was super powerful, I’ll never forget that. And social media played an important role in the movement because young people knew how to use it and it gave them an advantage against regimes that, at the time, did not understand and just wanted to dismiss it outright. I would say the same thing about Occupy Wall Street and the first generation of Black Lives Matter when we were protesting the deaths of Trayvon Martin and Mike Brown. Social media was really powerful there.

"A protest is something that, at least from a scholarly perspective, is there to send a message to people in power," says 91ɫ�� conflict researcher Michael English. (Photo: Pexels)

But then we see this shift past 2016, where social media starts to feel super performative to people. I have students tell me that in one sense it’s great because they learn about things they didn’t know were going on, but on the other hand, yeah, you could post a picture or a video but didn’t really have to do anything about it. So that’s one critique, that it makes movements seem performative and like something people are just doing for an afternoon for social clout.

Now that we know so much of social media is being scraped by authorities to identify who people are and all of this kind of network tracing, it puts people who participate in movements in real danger if they’re careless with their social media. You’re making a record of something that who knows how it’s going to be used in future. It's certainly going to change how movements go forward, so it’s good that we’re having these conversations now when there’s real concern among people over whether they can participate—whether they feel they can participate—knowing somebody could scan your movements and identify you as having been there.

Question: How do you respond to the argument that protest doesn’t accomplish anything and change only happens by running for public office and creating policy?

English: I would say it depends on what the point of the movement is. With some movements or protests, depending on how the message is being put out there, the end goal may be that we’re showing our discontent now, with the idea that we’re going to support certain people running for political office or pressure legislators on a particular policy. But this can get complicated when the routine methods of forcing political change don’t seem like they’re working or seem really far off. I mean, the mid-terms are more than a year and a half away; how much impact does protest this weekend have for political office in a year and a half?

So, I come back to the idea of protest as building that collective solidarity, letting people know there are others who are upset and there is strength in numbers. Then I wonder what happens when we do find that redline issue that really upsets people. I think right now we’re still waiting for a redline issue—the thing this or any president wants to do that a majority of American people don’t support and don’t want.

The amazing thing about studying social movements is the speed at which they can escalate is really unpredictable and can be really intense. If you look at Black Lives Matter, for instance, that pushed a ton of young people to become interested and run for office. So, it could be the case that people leave this protest (Saturday) and they’re like, ‘I really want to make a difference and really want to ensure there’s a different kind of political majority in office come the next election cycle.’

Where it gets tricky is if nobody is pushing that message, or if the message is that there’s no way change can happen through the existing political system, then people might dig into cynicism and say it all just needs to collapse. We do need that central conflict because conflict is good, conflict is normal; we just don’t want the violence. Violence is where we have something that’s clearly gone wrong. But people coming out and expressing that they’re angry and upset? That’s what we want in a democratic society.

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about peace, conflict and security studies? Show your support.

91ɫ�� conflict scholar Michael English explains why public protests matter and what they can mean in the current political and social moment.

Traditional

White

But how’s the atmosphere there?

Rachel Sauer — Wed, 04 Jun 2025 18:10:46 +0000

But how’s the atmosphere there? Rachel Sauer Wed, 06/04/2025 - 12:10

Rachel Sauer

In newly published research, 91ɫ�� scientists study a rocky exoplanet outside our solar system, learning more about whether and how planets maintain atmospheres

In June 2019, Harvard astrophysicists discovered a rocky exoplanet 22 light years from Earth. Analyzing data from the Transiting Exoplanets Survey Satellite (TESS), they and other scientists around the world learned key details about the rocky exoplanet named LTT 1445 A b: It is almost 1.3 times the radius of Earth and 2.7 times Earth’s mass and orbits its M-dwarf star every 5.4 days.

What they couldn’t ascertain from those data, however, was whether LTT 1445 A b has an atmosphere, “and that’s a big general question even in our own solar system: What sets how much atmosphere a planet has?” says Zach Berta-Thompson, a 91ɫ�� assistant professor of astrophysical and planetary sciences. “Atmospheres matter for life, so before we go searching for life on other planets, we need to understand a very basic question—why does a planet have atmosphere or not have atmosphere?”

Pat Wachiraphan (left), a PhD student in the 91ɫ�� Department of Astrophysical and Planetary Sciences, and Zach Berta-Thompson (right), an assistant professor in the department, collaborated with colleagues around the country to study JWST data about rocky exoplanet LTT 1445 A b.

Now, after detailed analysis of data from the James Webb Space Telescope (JWST), a lot more is known—and was recently published—about LTT 1445 A b, whether it has an atmosphere and what its atmosphere might be if it has one. 91ɫ�� researchers partnered with astrophysicists around the country to build on previous research that ruled out a light hydrogen/helium-dominated atmosphere but could not distinguish between a cloudy atmosphere, an atmosphere composed of heavier molecules like carbon dioxide or a bare rock.

The paper’s first author, Pat Wachiraphan, a PhD student studying astrophysical and planetary sciences, Berta-Thompson and their colleagues analyzed three eclipses of LTT 1445 A b from the JWST, watching the planet disappear behind its star and measuring how much infrared light the planet emits. From this, they were able to rule out the presence of a thick carbon dioxide atmosphere like the one on Venus, which has about 100 times more atmosphere than Earth. This highlights an important aspect of science: Sometimes just as much is learned from understanding what something isn’t as from defining what it is.

“What I think should be the next step, naturally, is to ask whether we might detect an Earth-like atmosphere?” Wachiraphan says.

Not like Venus

LTT 1445 A b is one of the closest-to-Earth rocky exoplanets transiting a small star, Wachiraphan notes, and thus one of the easiest to target when studying whether and how it and similar rocky exoplanets hold atmospheres.

The JWST is more sensitive to atmospheres of transiting exoplanets around smaller stars, and LTT 1445 A b transits one of the smallest known type stars—about 20 to 30% the radius of Earth’s sun.

In November 2020, Berta-Thompson and several colleagues submitted a proposal to the Space Telescope Science Institute, the international consortium that decides where JWST is pointed and for how long, “before the telescope had even launched,” he says. “Scientists from all over the world send in anonymized proposals where we make our case for why (JWST) should spend hours looking at this particular patch of the sky and what we would be able to learn from that.

“A panel reads through the proposals, ranks them, from which a lucky 5% to 10% will be selected as the best possible scientific use of the telescope. It is such a precious resource that we care really deeply that the choices about who gets to use the telescope are made fairly; every minute of its time is accounted for.”

Rocky exoplanet LTT 1445 A b is in a three-star system; the star it orbits is an M-type star, also known as a red dwarf. (Artists' illustration: Luis L. Calçada and Martin Kornmesser/European Southern Observatory)

Studying data from three eclipses sent back by JWST, Wachiraphan, Berta-Thompson and their colleagues were able to chart thermal emission consistent with instant reradiation of incoming stellar energy from a hot planet dayside. “This bright dayside emission is consistent with emission from a dark rocky surface, and it disfavors a thick, 100-bar, Venus-like CO2 atmosphere,” the researchers noted.

“So, you can imagine that if you have a planet that is just a rock, with no atmosphere, it would be hot on day side and cold on the night side, but if it has atmosphere, then the atmosphere could redistribute heat from day to night,” Wachiraphan says.

In the case of LTT 1445 A b, “we were basically putting an infrared thermometer up to the planet’s forehead and learned its average temperature is around 500 Kelvin,” Berta-Thompson says. “The whole planet is like the inside of a hot oven, basically.

Based on the data sent back by JWST, there could be several ways to detect atmosphere on LTT 1445 A b. “We came up with an observation with this planet passing behind its star. When the planet is behind its star, we’d just get light from the star itself, but before and after the eclipse we’d get a little contribution from the planet itself, too.” Wachiraphan explains. “But you can also detect an atmosphere when a planet passes in front of its star. “The starlight coming out could pass through the atmosphere of the planet and get absorbed, and we could observe that absorption.”

More observations are currently planned for LTT 1445 A b, led by other scientists and using this complementary method of observation, Berta-Thompson says—of collecting data as the planet transits in front of its star. “There’s a lot more we can learn using different wavelengths of light and different methods that allow us to more sensitively probe these thinner atmospheres.”

Like the inside of a hot oven

One of the most fascinating questions for researchers studying exoplanets, Berta-Thopson says, is “what does it take for a planet to retain or maintain atmosphere? Learning more about that is an important step in the process toward finding a planet maybe like this one—that has a surface, has an atmosphere, is a little farther away from its star, where you can imagine it has liquid water at the surface. Then you’re asking, ‘Is this a place where life could potentially thrive? Is there a place where life is thriving?”

These questions are so interesting, in fact, that they’ve prompted the formation of the Rocky Worlds Program, with which Wachiraphan and Berta-Thompson will work closely, to support international collaboration on the next phases of exploration of rocky exoplanets using satellite data.

“Using this really magnificent telescope that is the collective effort of thousands of people over decades, let alone the broader community that found this planet, is the kind of thing that is under threat right now,” Berta-Thompson says. “All of this science and this discovery requires a really long, big, sustained investment in telescopes, in scientists, in education.”

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about astrophysical and planetary sciences? Show your support.

In newly published research, 91ɫ�� scientists study a rocky exoplanet outside our solar system, learning more about whether and how planets maintain atmospheres.

Traditional

Rocky exoplanet LTT 1445 A b tightly orbits its parent star, which in turn orbits two other stars in a three-star system. (Artist's rendering of LTT 1445 A b: Martin Kornmesser/European Southern Observatory)

White

India and Pakistan once again step back from the brink

Rachel Sauer — Fri, 16 May 2025 16:44:25 +0000

India and Pakistan once again step back from the brink Rachel Sauer Fri, 05/16/2025 - 10:44

Rachel Sauer

91ɫ�� historian Lucy Chester notes that the recent tensions between the two nations, incited by the April 22 terrorist attack in Kashmir, are the latest in an ongoing cycle

When a gunman opened fire April 22 on domestic tourists in Pahalgam, a scenic Himalayan hill station in Indian-administered Kashmir, killing 26 people, the attack ignited days of deadly drone attacks, airstrikes and shelling between India and Pakistan that escalated to a perilous brink last weekend.

A U.S.-brokered ceasefire Saturday evening diffused the mounting violence between the two nuclear-armed nations that increasingly seemed on a trajectory toward war. It was the latest in a string of escalations spanning many decades between India and Pakistan, which invariably led to the question: Why does this keep happening?

91ɫ�� historian Lucy Chester notes that the recent conflict between India and Pakistan is part of a broader history that includes not only religion, but water, maps and territorial integrity.

Lucy Chester, an associate professor in the 91ɫ�� Department of History and the International Affairs Program, has studied the region and relations between the two nations for many years; her first book, Borders and Conflict in South Asia, explores the drawing of the boundary between India and Pakistan in 1947.

Despite President Donald Trump’s assertion that the origins of the conflict date back a thousand years, “that’s not the case,” Chester says. “I would say it’s mainly about Kashmir, with some additional issues at play this time around that changed the dynamics a bit.”

When more than a century of British colonial rule of India ended in August 1947, the Indian subcontinent was divided into Hindu-majority India and Muslim-majority Pakistan—a bloody, devastating event known as Partition. An estimated 15 million people were displaced and an estimated 1 to 2 million died as a result of violence, hunger, suicide or disease.

The first Indo-Pakistani war ignited two months after Partition, in October 1947, over the newly formed Pakistan’s fear that the Hindu maharaja of the princely state of Kashmir and Jammu would align with India. The Indo-Pakistani wars of 1965 and 1971 and the the Kargil War of 1999 followed, as well as other conflicts, standoffs and skirmishes.

Chester addressed these and other issues in a recent conversation with Colorado Arts and Sciences Magazine.

Question: These decades of conflict are often framed as Hindu-Muslim conflict; is that not the case?

Chester: There’s an older dynamic of Hindu-Muslim tension that definitely plays a role in this, but a significant aspect of the conflict over Kashmir is a conflict over water, which is really important. It has to do specifically with Kashmir’s geopolitical position and how a lot of the water that is important to India, that flows through India into Pakistan, originates in Kashmir.

It was a lot about popular pressure this time—Hindu nationalist pressure—on (Indian Prime Minister Narendra) Modi, which is a dynamic that he has very much contributed to. So, in that sense, it could be framed as Hindu-Muslim tension.

But it’s also about territorial integrity—that’s a phrase that kept coming up—and it’s a very loaded phrase that does go back to 1947 and the kinds of nations that India and Pakistan were conceived of in the 1940s and the kinds of national concerns they’ve developed in the years since.

Question: What role did Hindu nationalism, which has been very much in the news since Modi’s re-election last year, play in this recent conflict?

Chester: Hindu nationalism has been important in South Asia since the late 19th century, certainly, and it’s become more important since the 1930s. It’s one strand of the larger Indian nationalist movement—Indian nationalism was behind the assassination of Mahatma Gandhi in 1948. So, it’s always been there, but Modi, of course, has really ramped it up. For a while he distanced himself from the BJP (the Bharatiya Janata Party political party associated with Hindu nationalism), but he’s since made it very clear that he is very much in line with Hindu nationalist ideals and played on those symbols and those dynamics centered to what Hindu nationalist voters wanted.

Colonel Sofiya Qureshi addresses the media about Operation Sindoor at the National Media Centre in New Delhi May 7, 2025. (Photo: Government of India Ministry of Defence)

This whole idea of Hinduness gets back to the various ways both India and Pakistan are conceived of as nations. Hindutva (a political ideology justifying a Hindu hegemony in India) conceives India as a fundamentally Hindu nation, and that idea has gotten so much more reinforcement from Modi and the national government over last 10 years. So, part of what happened with this awful terrorist massacre two weeks ago is that it created a lot of pressure on Modi to respond in a way that previous Indian administrations haven’t felt they had to respond.

Question: In the recent conflict, India accused Pakistan of perpetrating the attack, which Pakistan denied, and framed the response as a defense of ‘Mother India.’ What does that mean?

Chester: Sumathi Ramaswamy explained it best in her book (The Goddess and the Nation: Mapping Mother India), where she talks about Mother India as this cartographed divine female figure who’s very much identified with the cartographic body of the nation. So, any attack on the territorial integrity (of India) is an attack on this woman, this mother figure.

The (recent) Indian Operation was called Operation Sindoor—sindoor is the red coloring that married Hindu woman put in the part of their hair—a call-out to this idea of Mother India and a call to the nation’s sons to be willing to die for her or to kill for her in this case.

In 1947, with the Partition of British India into India and Pakistan, the conception for many in India was a really tragic carving up of the body of the nation, and for a number of Hindu nationalists, that was a specifically female body. For a lot of people in India to this day, the 1947 Partition is this massive failure and an amputation of key elements of the national body. On the other side in Pakistan, for many it’s this great narrative of victory, but on the Indian side there’s this recurring existential fear that further parts of the country could be carved off this way. I think a big part of why conflict keeps happening is that both sides feel very strongly about defending the national territory because it was torn apart in such a violent way, and I think that fear is just most vividly present in Kashmir.

Question: How does the history of Kashmir in terms of British rule and Partition come into play?

Chester: In terms of British India, there were areas that were directly ruled and areas that were indirectly ruled. The indirectly ruled areas were princely ruled, and this is important because Kashmir was a princely state with a Hindu maharaja and a majority-Muslim population. With princely states, in theory they could decide for themselves whether to accede to India or Pakistan, and the maharaja of Kashmir, most would say he was angling for some kind of autonomy or independence and delayed the decision on whether to accede to India or Pakistan.

In October of 1947, militia groups—almost certainly supported by Pakistan—invaded Kashmir and the maharaja appealed to India for help. India airlifted troops in, because there was no all-weather road efficient for deploying troops, which gives you a sense for both how remote Kashmir was and parts of it still are, and also that there weren’t a lot of infrastructure connections.

So, the first Indo-Pakistan war was in 1947 to 1948, then a second war in 1965 and a third in 1971. This reinforces that fear of the country fragmenting and losing parts of the national body, because it was after the 1971 war that Bangladesh became independent (from Pakistan).

In 1949, India and Pakistan established a Ceasefire Line that became the Line of Control in 1972 with the Simla Agreement. The Line of Control is significant because it’s treated as an international boundary—not de jure (existing by law or officially recognized), but de facto. In 1972, officials came up with a textual description for the Line of Control and they define it up to NJ9842, which is the northernmost point on the map where it ends. The text of treaty says something like, “Proceed thence north to the glaciers.” This territory is so remote, so geopolitically useless, that no one at the time thought spending time to define where boundary line ran was important.

In the mid-1980s, both India and Pakistan sent troops to the Siachen Glacier, creating one of the highest more-or-less permanent military bases at about 22,000 feet. (Photo: Wikimedia Commons)

So, north of NJ9842 is this really undefined area—you’ve got Pakistan-controlled territory, India-controlled territory, China is right there, the Karakoram Pass is right there. What happened in the late 1970s, and possibly earlier even into the late 1960s, was Pakistan began issuing permits to international climbing expeditions, and in the early 1980s Indian troops discovered evidence of these international climbing expeditions. India realized that Pakistan had been exercising a certain form of administrative control over this undefined territory, and that’s what triggered the mid-1980s sending of troops from India and Pakistan to the Siachen Glacier. It includes what I think is the highest more-or-less permanent military base at something like 22,000 feet.

As a map geek, I find it really interesting that maps have contributed in pretty direct ways to these conflicts. One of the really tragic elements is that we know that on the Indian side, 97% of conflict casualties in that area are due to terrain and weather, and we can assume similar numbers on the Pakistani side. You’ve got these two countries fighting this battle, but they’re also fighting Mother Nature. In fact, the 1999 Kargil War happened because Pakistan tried to move some of its troops to a higher altitude where they could overlook an Indian road that supplied these high-altitude posts.

Question: What role did water play in the recent conflict?

Chester: All of the water that feeds the rivers that run downstream into western India and Pakistan originates in that region, which gives it real geopolitical value. One of the things that had me particularly concerned this time was India suspended the Indus Waters Treaty from 1960, which was a really landmark agreement governing the sharing of these waters. Some of these rivers flow through India before they get to Pakistan, and at this point India doesn’t have the infrastructure to turn off the water. But Pakistan has said if India starts building that infrastructure, they will consider it an act of war.

Question: Is there anything that makes you feel even slightly hopeful amid these ongoing tensions?

Chester: Over the last two weeks, both sides have been very carefully walking this fine line between being very visibly seen to acknowledge popular pressure on them to stand up strongly to their adversary, but also making very carefully planned choices that as far as possible avoided uncontrollable escalation. Everyone is keenly aware these are both nuclear-armed powers. I was very concerned that it escalated as much as it did on both sides, particularly in the use of airstrikes, but I think both sides were doing their best to leave themselves and their adversaries an off-ramp.

Part of the significance of (the Kargil War in) 1999 was both sides had just come out of the nuclear closet, so everyone was watching that conflict very closely, but both sides were able to walk back from edge. That gives us a lot of reason to hope and to believe that there are very professional people on both sides—in addition to people who are whipping up popular frenzy—who have a good sense for what the limits are, what signals they can send, and who are saying to the population, “We listen to you, we respect your grievances,” but they also know where the edge is and aren’t crossing it.

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about history? Show your support.

91ɫ�� historian Lucy Chester notes that the recent tensions between the two nations, incited by the April 22 terrorist attack in Kashmir, are the latest in an ongoing cycle.

Traditional

White

An apple a day? It’s the 91ɫ�� way

Rachel Sauer — Thu, 08 May 2025 17:18:27 +0000

An apple a day? It’s the 91ɫ�� way Rachel Sauer Thu, 05/08/2025 - 11:18

Rachel Sauer

Newly planted apple orchard on 91ɫ�� campus is a nexus of university and community partnerships and will be a living classroom for students and educators

For now, they are twiggy little things, all spindly adolescent limbs that nevertheless hint at future harvests. Saturday morning, one even wore a scattering of creamy white blossoms—flowers that, in years to come, once roots have gained hold and branches have stretched up and out, will grow into apples.

Is there anything more hopeful than planting a tree? Yes, planting a whole orchard of them.

On Saturday, years of planning, research and partnership-building bore fruit on an L-shaped plot in front of the 91ɫ�� 30th Street greenhouse, where more than two-dozen volunteers planted 30 apple trees in what had previously been a scrubby patch of turf.

Funded by a $90,000 Sustainable CU grant, the apple orchard will not only be a classroom and a living lab, but a nexus for community, a carbon sink and a vibrant example that sustainability can be delicious.

“It’s so exciting to see this happening,” says Amy Dunbar-Wallis, who this semester completed her PhD in the Department of Ecology and Evolutionary Biology and collaborated with 91ɫ�� faculty and students and community partners to bring the idea of the first orchard on 91ɫ�� campus to fruition.

“It represents how so many people on campus, so many people in the community, have come together to plant this orchard that will be a place to learn and a place to preserve a really neat part of 91ɫ��’s history.”

In search of old apple trees

The new apple orchard grew from the 91ɫ�� Apple Tree Project, an initiative that began almost 15 years ago with a simple observation: There seemed to be a lot of old apple trees in 91ɫ��.

Katharine Suding, a professor of distinction in the Department of Ecology and Evolutionary Biology, had recently moved to the area, “and I was really surprised to see so many old apple trees everywhere,” she recalled during the 2022 Apple Symposium. “I realized I had no idea about the histories and particularly the history of apples, so looking into it a little more, it was clear there are trees here that are remnants of past histories starting in the turn of (20th) century.

Amy Dunbar-Wallis (left) and Tiffany Willis (right, EBio'22) consult a chart designating where each tree would be planted in the new apple orchard in front of the 30th Street greenhouse Saturday morning. Willis, who lives in 91ɫ��, took EBIO 1250 online during Covid lockdowns and was a lab assistant for the class in 2021.

“There are apple trees in Colorado and in 91ɫ�� that are remnants from old orchards that still exist. There are also remnants of trees that were planted when people came and built ranches or had farms here, and often they were bringing along apple trees from where they came from, whether it was Germany, whether it was the Midwest, whether it was Scandinavia.”

In fall 2017, the 91ɫ�� Apple Tree Project (BATP) sprouted, combining historical sleuthing with cutting-edge genetic testing and grafting to not only locate and catalog 91ɫ��’s historic apple trees, but also to revive its legacy of apple growing. In the ongoing project, researchers gather data on the age and health of the trees, as well as the type and flavor of the apples, and the genetic diversity that the trees offer to future populations.

Suding and BATP co-principal investigator Lisa Corwin, an associate professor of ecology and evolutionary biology, have worked with undergraduate and graduate students not only to gather data, but also to develop the EBIO 1250 course, during which students conduct research on 91ɫ��’s apple trees; curricula and materials in partnership with the CU Museum of Natural History; a database and app in collaboration with computer science students; an interactive map of apple trees that have been tagged and studied; and the A Power of Place Learning Experience and Research Network (APPLE R Net), a multi-institution research network directed by Corwin that introduces students to field research by involving them in a project examining apple trees across the Rocky Mountain region.

BATP also is part of the Historic Fruit Tree Working Group, which connects Colorado researchers with other apple-exploring groups and researchers across North America.

Mia Williams (left) waters a newly planted apple tree Saturday morning. Williams, who will graduate this summer, is double majoring in ecology and evolutionary biology and environmental studies.

“This project has grown so much since our initial community engaged Apple Blitz in 2018,” says Dunbar-Wallis. “We've tagged over 1,000 trees and created a database, taught multiple course-based undergraduate research experiences at CU and at colleges across Colorado and northern New Mexico, started a data-collection app and interactive map in collaboration with CU computer science capstone students and installed a demonstration orchard in collaboration with 91ɫ�� Open Space and Mountain Parks.”

The demonstration orchard, planted two years ago, functions as a teaching and research laboratory to explore how biodiversity affects the functioning of apple orchards and their services to human well-being, including efficient water use, pollinator habitat and structural complexity supporting natural pest control.

A part of the narrative

The idea for the 30th Street orchard was revived by a group of six undergraduate and two graduate students almost two years ago, who proposed resubmitting a grant application that hadn’t been accepted in 2019.

“We’re a group who really love what we do and love apple trees and working with the soil,” says Katie Mikell, an ecology and evolutionary biology student who is graduating today and who was a member of the team that crafted and submitted the grant proposal.

“Before, (the orchard plot) was a lawn full of monoculture turf grass, so part of our argument was that if we put in an apple orchard, it would create a carbon sink (a system that absorbs more carbon than it releases), it would save the school money and anyone walking by could pick an apple. Plus, once the trees are producing, we can donate apples to the food pantry. Everyone can benefit from an apple orchard.”

Deidre Jaeger (right, PhDEBio'22) and her sons Sage, 4 (left), and Cedar, 1 (center), plant apple trees at the 30th Street orchard Saturday morning. Jaeger was a postdoctoral researcher in the Department of Ecology and Evolutionary Biology and an advisor for the Center for Sustainable Landscapes and Communities and is a researcher with the 91ɫ�� Apple Tree Project.

Students prepared the 30th Street site during fall semester, working with departments and organizations across the university, as well as many community partners. The trees planted Saturday are about three years old and were obtained from Widespread Malus and Benevolence Orchard in 91ɫ��.

“Our students are at the core of the university, and their passion and ingenuity are critical to our values around infusing sustainability throughout 91ɫ��. This orchard exemplifies that pursuit in so many ways,” says Vice Chancellor for Sustainability Andrew Mayock.

“It is not only helping to protect biodiversity in our community. It will help feed those in need on our campus and create a living-learning laboratory space where sustainability leaders of the future will learn and develop strategies for urban agriculture planning.”

Fifteen varieties of apples are represented in the orchard, including locally grown historic cultivars like Wolf River and Colorado Orange. A beloved apple tree on the Bobolink Trail is even represented in a newly planted graft.

“There’s so much learning that can happen in an orchard,” says Manuela Mejia, an ecology and evolutionary biology PhD student who will conduct her doctoral research, which will include studying insect diversity, at the orchard. “So many facets of science are represented here.”

In addition to trees, the orchard will include an understory of native, drought-tolerant grasses and pollinator-friendly wildflowers, notes Mia Williams, who is majoring in environmental studies and ecology and evolutionary biology and will graduate this summer.

“It’s really exciting that this orchard will become a part of the story of agriculture in this area,” Dunbar-Wallis says. “We’ve tagged more than 1,000 trees (through BATP) and some of them are a hundred years old, so you think about everything they’ve seen and been through, the history that they hold, their stories, and now these trees—which are little now and probably won’t produce fruit for two or three years—are part of that narrative.”

Sophie Small (left) and Amy Dunbar-Wallis (right) fill a wheelbarrow with compost Saturday morning to prepare for planting an apple orchard in front of the 30th Street greenhouse. Small, a freshman who is studying biomedical engineering, learned about the project through the CU Farm and Garden Club.

Sophie Small (left), Isaac Kou (center) and Kyrie MacArthur dig a hole Saturday morning before planting an apple tree in it. Small is studying biomedical engineering, Kou just graduated with a major in computer science and a minor in ecology and evolutionary biology and MacArthur is studying history and education.

Amy Dunbar-Wallis (PhDEBio'25) digs a hole for a young apple tree Saturday morning.

Amy Dunbar Wallis (left, black vest) educates student and community volunteers Saturday morning before they plant 30 apple trees in front of the 30th Street greenhouse.

The apple trees planted in the 30th Street orchard Saturday morning, one of which even bloomed, are three years old and should begin producing fruit in two or three years.

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about ecology and evolutionary biology? Show your support.

Newly planted apple orchard on 91ɫ�� campus is a nexus of university and community partnerships and will be a living classroom for students and educators.

Traditional

White

Honoring the traditions of people and place

Rachel Sauer — Mon, 05 May 2025 15:59:33 +0000

Honoring the traditions of people and place Rachel Sauer Mon, 05/05/2025 - 09:59

Rachel Sauer

Newly opened exhibit at the University of Colorado Museum celebrates ceramic artist’s donation and the legacy of her family and community

A new piece of Acoma Pueblo pottery begins, in a way, with all the pottery that came before it.

Artisans finely grind shards of old pottery and mix it into clay gathered from Acoma Pueblo land, hand-forming the light yet strong vessels for which they are renowned. There are no precise measurements, no written recipes, for the clay or slip or mineral paints that come together in Acoma Pueblo pottery; “you just know when it’s right,” says artist Dolores Lewis Garcia.

Noted Acoma Pueblo ceramics artist Carmel Lewis Haskaya, a proud 91ɫ�� alumnus, ensured that her love for her community and its traditions would unite with her love for 91ɫ�� by donating one of her pieces to the University of Colorado Museum.

Lewis Garcia learned the art from her mother, Lucy M. Lewis, the famed New Mexico ceramics artist known for reviving traditional pottery techniques whose work is displayed in the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian. Most of Lewis’ nine children learned by watching her and also became ceramic artists, including her youngest, Carmel Lewis Haskaya.

Lewis Haskaya was not only a respected ceramic artist, but a proud 91ɫ�� alumnus. Before her death in 2019, she ensured that her love for her community and its traditions would unite with her love for 91ɫ�� by donating one of her pieces to the University of Colorado Museum.

The vibrant cylindrical pot is a centerpiece of the new exhibit “A Family Tradition: Acoma pottery, CU and the Lewis family,” which opened with a reception and ribbon cutting Tuesday evening.

“We are delighted to highlight and honor the important artworks that this family has shared with us,” says Nancy J. Stevens, 91ɫ�� professor of anthropology and director of the Museum Institute. “It represents a pivotal point for connecting communities and growing meaningful collaborations into the future.”

The exhibit features pieces by Lucy Lewis and many of her children, including Forever Buff Carmel Lewis Haskaya.

“(Lewis Haskaya’s cylinder jar) is not just an object or a gift,” explains William Taylor, a 91ɫ�� assistant professor of anthropology and CU Museum curator of archaeology who partnered with the Lewis family to create the exhibit.

“For many folks, creating pottery is a way to impart something of yourself in a permanent and lasting way. Having this pottery at CU means that a part of Carmel and her family will always be here in 91ɫ��.”

Learn by watching

Lewis Haskaya belonged to an artistic lineage that can be traced in centuries. For hundreds of years, Acoma Pueblo artists have gone to certain spots on their land to collect the clay, white slip, wild spinach and oxides that are the raw materials for their pottery.

“Being an Acoma potter, there’s a lot of work that goes into it,” Lewis Garcia says.

“Everything is gathered from the land and hand-processed,” adds Claudia Mitchell, also a famed Acoma Pueblo artist and Lewis’ granddaughter. “It teaches you to take your time and be present; you’re putting yourself into the work.”

As a child, Lewis Haskaya learned these traditions and techniques watching her mother. When she came to 91ɫ�� through the American Indian Educational Opportunity Program and built a career with the Native American Rights Fund, she never forgot or outgrew her community, Mitchell says. Eventually, Lewis Haskaya returned to her community at Acoma, west of Albuquerque, New Mexico, and became an accomplished artist.

Lewis Haskaya was a student of history and art traditions from around the world and was known for creating cylinder vessels in the style of ones found at Chaco Canyon, Mesa Verde and other ancient sites, adding her own touch to traditional designs.

The cylindrical vessel made by noted Acoma Pueblo artist Carmel Lewis Haskaya, which she donated to the University of Colorado Museum before her death in 2019.

“She had the hardest time grinding mineral paints,” Lewis Garcia recalls with a laugh, adding that her sister eventually conquered the hurdle that many artisans using traditional techniques encounter.

Like her mother and siblings, and now her nieces and nephews, Lewis Haskaya walked Acoma land to specific spots for the gray and yellow clays, the minerals and the plants that are the foundation of traditional techniques. “To get the white slip, it’s not in an easy place,” Lewis Garcia says. “It’s underground and there’s a big boulder on it. You have to use it sparingly.”

Though it’s more common now to use kilns rather than dung fires, the process of thinning vessel walls, of burnishing with a stone, of applying the geometric patterns associated with Acoma Pueblo pottery hasn’t changed for centuries.

‘The ties that bind us together’

While pottery is revered as art, “in our traditional ways, it’s a utility, it’s an item that we use,” says Benny Shendo Jr., 91ɫ�� associate vice chancellor for Native American affairs and a member of the Jemez Pueblo Tribe. “And it plays a big role in our ceremonial life.”

Mitchell notes that traditional pottery helps not only those who make it, but those who use it to “ground ourselves to the place that we’re from; it’s that connection that we have to our land and to our people—not only just for personal use, but for community use. It gives us that tie to one another. We’re keeping those traditions alive not only through our dance and song but through our pottery.

“Those are the ties that bind us together, that make us a people. It’s important to keep those ties, to make sure that those things—the pottery making, the dancing, the singing—all of those are taught to our younger generations, because that helps them identify who they are and where they are. It helps give them a sense of place and sense of purpose.”

“It’s part of life,” says Diana Lim Garry (Anth'71), Lucy Lewis’ granddaughter who lives in 91ɫ�� and helped bring the exhibit to life, loaning pieces from her own collection. “Everywhere we go—you’re walking on a hike and you’re walking along the streambed, and you’re saying, ‘Would that make a good polishing stone?’ You go along, even (in) roadcuts there’s all these pretty colors of the minerals in the rocks: ‘Would that make good paint?’ It’s always on your mind that this is something that’s been done for a long time and will continue to be done thanks to my aunts and my cousins.”

Mitchell adds that a pottery vessel made in traditional ways allows the Acoma Pueblo people to say “I have my piece of the rock. That’s how we identify ourselves, by place and name, that’s our place in this world, and no matter where we go in this world, we can always go back to that one place, and that’s where we belong. For our people, that’s who we are, that’s where we’re from.”

"A Family Tradition: Acoma pottery, CU and the Lewis family” is open to the public during regular museum hours, which are 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Tuesday through Friday and 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday and Sunday.

Claudia Mitchell (left), Dolores Lewis Garcia (center) and Diana Lim Garry (right) with the vessel made by Carmel Lewis Haskaya, Lewis Garcia's sister and Mitchell's and Lim Garry's aunt; Lewis Haskaya donated the vessel to the University of Colorado Museum.

Pieces made by famed Acoma Pueblo artist Lucy M. Lewis are part of the new University of Colorado Museum exhibit "A Family Tradition: Acoma pottery, CU and the Lewis family."

Following in the footsteps of her grandmother, Lucy M. Lewis, Acoma Pueblo artist Claudia Mitchell made these pieces using traditional techniques and designs.

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about the University of Colorado Museum? Show your support.

Newly opened exhibit at the University of Colorado Museum celebrates ceramic artist’s donation and the legacy of her family and community.

Traditional

White

Top image: Carmel Lewis Haskaya enjoying the Colorado outdoors while she was a 91ɫ�� student (Photo: Lewis family)

Rachel Sauer

From Huffy to high tech, it's been a wild ride

Related Articles

New exhibit celebrates ceramics at 91ɫ��

Related Articles

That lightbulb represents more than just a good idea

Related Articles

Artist features the beauty of nature on a 140-foot canvas

Related Articles

We still need a bigger boat

Are sharks really as scary as their reputation?

Related Articles

Protesters taking freedom of assembly to the streets

Related Articles

But how’s the atmosphere there?

Related Articles

India and Pakistan once again step back from the brink

Related Articles

An apple a day? It’s the 91ɫ�� way

Related Articles

Honoring the traditions of people and place

Related Articles