Gabe got married last weekend, but he’s either too busy or too shy to say so. He made himself an amazing ring that matched the one he made for his new wife, and the two were married in a wonderful ceremony at the Lueders family farm near Osceola, Iowa. Sarah and I considered ourselves lucky to be in attendance at the wonderfully intimate ceremony, which included a special cameo by little Ethan Lueders, aged two months. I’ll let Gabe post photos if he feels like sharing.

While in Iowa, Sarah and I also had the opportunity to see several of Iowa’s art institutions, begining with my old alma mater, the University of Iowa. In September, the art school opened with a new building, not so cleverly titled “Art Building West,” but very cleverly designed by Seattle architect Steven Holl. Situated across the street from the severely aged main buildings, the new building houses a large lecture hall, the art library, and a new, very professional gallery space.

As dramatic as the exterior is, the changes inside are phenomenal. When I was at Iowa, the library was literally stuffed to the ceilings, with books wedged anywhere there was room. In the dark (and damp) basement, many of the books were tatterred and torn by decades of rough treatment, and students routinely slept in the dank and cavernous lecture hall.

In perfect contrast, the interior of the new building is flooded with light, set off with light materials like maple ply wall paneling and cork flooring. A soaring central staircase in lightweight sheet metal sends light ricocheting throughout the space. Attention to detail is evident in the sculptural door handles and careful spacing of the stairs.
I was especially pleased to see that the building houses a newer, more professional gallery space, which my sister tells me is considered by students to be more prestigious than the old building’s Drewlowe Gallery. Judging by the quality of the work being shown by graduate student Terry Rathje in Poetic Structures, I think she’s right.
My favorite piece was this tower composed of found metal parts, which I believe was entitled Fibonacci’s Ziggurat. I enjoyed the simple geometry of its structure, but appreciated the complexity of the various elements used to define those shapes: very interesting and slightly rusty bits of packaging from the midwest’s past. I really want to know where Rathje finds all those pieces!

Nearby, a more functional piece of artwork looked simultaneously comfortable and hostile, a piece Sarah called “the Skeleton Chair.” I confess, I didn’t write its title down.

Discarded license plates form the backbone of Rathje’s wallpieces, an amazingly original technique that seems so obvious once you’ve seen it, but I appreciated the eloquence of the statements as well.


A pretty amazing show by Terry Rathje, I felt, one really worthy of this amazing new space. The building is really a welcome and dramatic change for the department. Now, if they could only address its decrepit cohorts …