Newsletter Autumn 2015
“Milestones” are only one letter different from “millstones”, but these terms should not be confused with each other.
For instance, though the processes of ageing may feel like the latter, they deserve to be celebrated as instances of the former. Think of these processes as akin to a harvest, signifying the fruits of growth and maturation. There should be nothing wrong, as such, with getting old.
At the Center for Anthroposophy, we are celebrating several seven-year milestones this year, both in the age of our programs and in the services we offer.
Newsletter Spring 2015
Re-flect: its original meaning is “to bend back” — but also “to curve”, as in falcate, the blade of a scythe. This is the theme for our Spring 2015 issue of Center & Periphery, the online newsletter of the Center for Anthroposophy.
A quintessential aspect of the Consciousness Soul, self-reflection is evident–though perhaps frozen–in the artifacts of modern technology, and rejuvenated through the eternal fonts of renewal and foundation studies that draw from the depths of Waldorf education.
Newsletter Winter 2015
Our focus for this issue of Center & Periphery shifts to the East: first to Forest Row, where Georg Locher — beloved mentor, teacher, artist, and genial uncle to the programs sponsored by the Center for Anthroposophy — passed away on 15 December 2014, just a few months after celebrating his 80th birthday.
Newsletter Autumn 2014
It is estimated that a majority of young children about to enter school these days will graduate a decade or so hence without the ability to decipher cursive script — because they will never have been taught it.
Newsletter Spring 2013
Education entails movement. In kindergarten, the movement is primarily physical. In the lower school movement goes inside and becomes more subtle as psychological movement, so that students are inwardly moved or inspired to learn in a mood of wonder. By the high school years the emphasis has been elevated into more intellectual realms, where flexibility in thinking takes the theme of movement yet one stage higher. In this issue of Center & Periphery, we explore movement in its various guises. Whether through the metaphors of air travel or ripples across a pond or walking a labyrinth, or in movement across international frontiers, the dislodging of intractable issues, or the inner sea changes born of anthroposophical studies –– or even the shifting of fresh supplies from the shelves of our Color Shop & More, the Center for Anthroposophy is on the move this term. Come journey with us through this issue! Douglas Gerwin, Director Center for Anthroposophy In this Issue Dateline Vienna, Austria: Many Rivers, One Ocean From all corners of the world, Waldorf teachers concerned with adult education converged this month on Vienna, home to Rudolf Steiner during his undergraduate years, for a triad of conferences concerning the tasks and travails of Waldorf education. Douglas Gerwin was in attendance. Think of Waldorf schools and institutes around the world as a network of rivers, each originating in some high mountain source and flowing through a host of different landscapes with many levels of intensity and prominence. Some trickle almost unnoticed through a remote forest, others surge through the center of a great metropolis. Some meander, others leap over giant cataracts. Some meet in central points of confluence, others chart a solo course for hundreds of miles. In the end, however, they all flow towards the same goal –– the ocean, where they find their common end as well as the beginning of a shared source of renewal. With this sweeping image, Florian Osswald, Co-Leader with Claus-Peter Roeh of the Pedagogical Section at the Goetheanum in Dornach, Switzerland, painted a grand and living picture of the many institutions around the world involved in Waldorf teacher education. His point was to reconcile a dizzying variety of Waldorf teacher training institutes, on the one hand, with their overarching shared goals and dreams, on the other. During the first week of May, representatives from all manner of Waldorf institutes came together in Vienna, Austria for a series of three conferences, each with its own organizers and specific mission. The first, billed as an “educational congress”, was arranged by the European Network for Academic Steiner Teacher Education (ENASTE), a loose collection of European adult education colleges and institutes devoted to a more academic pursuit of Waldorf education at the level of higher education. The second conference, a more intimate affair spearheaded by representatives of the Pedagogical Section, allowed Waldorf teacher trainers from all six continents to hear from each other their dreams and struggles, and to engage in some shared artistic movement as a way of getting to know each other better –– or at least to remembering one another’s names. Finally, these same teacher educators met with members of the Hague Circle (now called the “International Forum for Waldorf/Steiner Schools”) for a series of group discussions on the deeper impulses behind Waldorf education. In between there was time for leisurely lunchtime conversations or the chance to discover the places in Vienna where Rudolf Steiner lived and studied as a young man, including the Café Griensteidl (recently reconstructed) where he penned his first full-scale book. Among some 40 institutes represented at one or more of these conferences, a few were long-established Waldorf colleges or long-standing Waldorf programs embedded in an existing university, such as the Waldorf program in the education department of Antioch University New England in Keene, NH. Others, by contrast, were fledgling in-service programs attached to a young Waldorf school in some far-flung hinterland. Most of them––outside the United States, that is––said they receive state funding, with varying degrees of strings attached to this form of support. Specific presentations were made by representatives of teacher training programs from the U.S., Brazil, and South Africa. In each of these one could hear how local ethnic groups struggled to overcome what one representative called the “Waldorf imperialism” originating in earlier days from Europe. One workshop presenter told the story of two Waldorf early childhood trainers who traveled to Asia from Europe –– one with a suitcase filled with European materials including wool (a material not readily available in that part of the world), the other with little in her luggage but who began her course on making Waldorf dolls by taking her students to the local market to buy indigenous fabrics. Here it became obvious that the Waldorf “rivers” need to be adapted to the cultural terrain through which they flow, even though they carry with them something from a transcendent and spiritually inspired source (called anthroposophy). A complementary topic to this theme of cultural diversity was the subject of inter-relationships or coherence in the learning process. Many of the speakers during the first days of the academic congress stressed this theme as a fruitful subject of research, whether it applied to the learning relationships––both “explicit and implicit”–– between caregiver and young child or to the developing brain and the sensory environment that shapes it. In an evocative closing to the congress, Peter Lutzker, a docent from the Stuttgart teacher training school and research institute, introduced the notion of “attunement” as a way of capturing the subtle relationship between teacher and student. With a wealth of metaphors drawn from the musical arts (how appropriate for a congress in Vienna!), he gently elevated the art of attuned silence––or “Schweigen” in German––to a potent pedagogical practice. His talk reminded me of a bumper sticker: “We teach by listening, we learn by speaking.” During the final two days, the institute representatives were joined by members of the International Forum, swelling the circle to some 70 Waldorf teachers from 35
Newsletter Autumn 2012
Just 100 years ago, Rudolf Steiner and Marie von Sivers, the woman who would become his second wife, stood on a hill overlooking the tiny village of Dornach in the northwest quadrant of Switzerland and contemplated the founding of a new center for the study and practice of anthroposophy. Within a decade Steiner’s first Goetheanum, a unique structure crowned by two interlocking wooden domes, had risen on this hill and, on the last night of 1922, burned to the ground. Undeterred, Steiner immediately began designing new sculptural models for a second and quite different edifice, this one made from what was then a revolutionary building material: molded concrete. Steiner would not live to see this building completed, but today it still stands as a leading example of a new sculptural form of architecture. In this autumn issue of our seasonal newsletter Center & Periphery, Milan Daler retraces the steep winding path to the Goetheanum to report on his first experience of this magnificent structure, as well as on a lecture conference he attended there at Michaelmas. Further afield in this issue, we uncover what Steiner said––or did not say––about education during one of his many lecture trips to England, and we re-examine what he said about the future of technology, especially in the West. We also bring you summaries of our own conferences and courses during this year: past, present, and future. Enjoy the voyages! Douglas Gerwin, Director Center for Anthroposophy In this Issue Dateline Dornach, Switzerland: Distant Dream into Breath-Taking Reality Five perspectives on the Goetheanum, including one after the first wooden version burned to the ground Milan Daler, Administrator of the Center for Anthroposophy, captures in word and image his first impressions of the Goetheanum. Whoever encounters the work of Rudolf Steiner will soon become aware of the Goetheanum –– world-wide center and earthly home of anthroposophy in Dornach, Switzerland. The original building, a mostly wooden structure designed by Rudolf Steiner, arose between 1913 and 1920 at the hand of workers who flocked to Dornach from countries on both sides of World War I. This miracle of a building was completely destroyed by arsonist’s fire during the New Year’s night 1922/23. Deeply wounded but undeterred, Rudolf Steiner set about envisioning and designing a second Goetheanum made of the radically new medium of reinforced concrete. Apart from the issue of fire prevention, he saw the opportunities it offered for unrestricted design. The new building was built between 1925-1928 entirely on the basis of his model, but Rudolf Steiner himself did not live to see it completed, succumbing to illness on March 30, 1925 in his study, which was housed the carpentry shop, or “Schreinerei”, directly adjacent to the construction site of the Goetheanum. Right from my first encounter with anthroposophy (facilitated 14 years ago by my future wife, Jennifer) and subsequent study of Rudolf Steiner’s work, I have nurtured the dream that one day I would visit the Goetheanum, to explore this magnificent building inside and out, to walk the grounds, to breath the surrounding air. Earlier this fall, with support of my colleagues at the Center for Anthroposophy, this dream came true, and I was able to attend the annual Michaelmas conference organized by the Collegium of the School of Spiritual Science. As I walked up the Dornach hill for the first time, the magnificent building¬¬––to say nothing of the steepness of the hill––literally took my breath away. I paused for a moment to take my first picture of this imposing edifice before approaching the giant metal and glass doors facing the rolling hills to the west. To my surprise, these massive doors swung open easily and I could see the hustle and a bustle of pre-conference registrations and, at the center of it all, a beautiful white sculpture of Michael blessing humanity. The walls of the ground floor reception area are covered by a photo exhibition dedicated to a hundred years of eurythmy and featuring the life stories of the founding eurythmists. Two wide and gently curved stairways––one on each side of the foyer––lead the visitor to a second floor and the offices of the Vorstand (the Presidium of the Anthroposophical Society) members and the beautifully lazured back hallway with an exhibition of paintings by anthroposophical painter Ninetta Sombart. From there more stairways lead up to a monumental entryway to the Great Hall where the largest conferences are held, eurythmy is performed, and Rudolf Steiner’s mystery plays and unabridged productions of Goethe’s Faust are regularly staged. The hall itself has an almost overwhelming effect on a receptive visitor. The imposing pillars, the beauty of the ceiling painting, the warm colors gently flooding the space through colorful etched-glass windows, the organ loft, the stage. And not to forget the acoustics! How is it possible that, in a concrete structure, the human voice and sounds of music carry so majestically and without echo? There is a “golden” spot up in the organ loft, from which a speaker’s voice resounds like voice of heaven itself. At the top of another staircase in the south wing of this building can be found another high-ceilinged room close to the sweeping roof of the building. Here is housed Rudolf Steiner’s 30-foot high sculpture The Representative of Humanity. The statue, made of slats of wood glued together, depicts the Christ Being holding the influences of Lucifer and Ahriman, the two forms of evil, in balance and at bay. There are benches in the room where one can just sit and meditate. Meals for the conference I was attending were served in the “Schreinerei”, the famous carpentry shop which survived the fire of 1922 and where the “Christmas Conference”–– the re-founding of the Anthroposophical Society––was held in 1923. When I first entered the Schreinerei and noticed how worn the floorboards were, it dawned on me that these must be the very same boards on which Rudolf Steiner himself had walked so many times –– and with him the founding personalities of the worldwide anthroposophical movement.
Newsletter Summer 2012
With this issue of our quarterly newsletter, we extend our reach around the globe – from consideration of “sacred cows” in India (as well as in Waldorf education) to brief portraits of the new cohorts of elementary and high school teacher trainees, who this year include representatives from all six of the world’s inhabited continents. In addition, we offer some photographic vignettes of other summer-time events and festivities. Bon voyage! Douglas Gerwin, Director Center for Anthroposophy In this Issue Dateline Mumbai, India: Sacred Cows Roaming at Large and in Waldorf Schools On the streets of major Indian cities such as Mumbai, the barriers that would normally segregate animals from humans are dissolved. Cows roam freely in the streets, feeding on hay supplied by the local citizenry, or by visitors from the West such as the three Finsers––Torin, Karine, and their son Ionas––pictured above. When a cow crosses the street, traffic comes to a snarling halt; when one of them takes to the sidewalks, pedestrians yield the right of way. Anyone who harms one of these creatures, even accidentally, can end up in jail. The cow may be sacred to the Hindus––hence protected from harm amidst the bustle of city life––but it is neither worshipped nor especially revered. You may be surprised to see them walking unattended around the city, living on refuse and drinking from the gutters. But by transforming discarded scraps into rich milk and fat, these creatures are a living reminder of the potency of the divine spirit that metamorphoses the lowest and least valuable into the highest and most worthy. Hence bovine creatures are viewed––if not overtly venerated––as the creators of divine substance, and human creatures as their caretakers. Lord Krishna, founder of the Hindu tradition, is described as bala-gopala, “the child who protects the cows”. He is often depicted as a cowherd. Like any mother, the cow is the source of new life and sustaining nourishment. In India cows are sometimes called gau mata, the eternal mother. The milk of a cow is believed to promote Sattvic (purifying) qualities. The ghee (clarified butter) of cow’s milk is used in ceremonies and for the preparation of religious food. Panchagavya, the supreme purificatory material, is a mixture of five products of the cow: milk, curds, ghee, urine, and dung. Though very much a part of daily life, the cow is still a sacred symbol used to adorn the most holy of religious sites. Cows are honored at least once a year at Gopastami. On this “Cow Holiday,” cows are washed and decorated in the temple and given offerings in the hope that their gifts of life will continue. Because of their seeming indifference to their surroundings and their implacable sense of calm, cows remind us that the turbulence of daily life is a form of maya that obscures the greater reality of divine tranquility and lasting order. What makes a cow sacred in India, and what constitutes a sacred cow in Waldorf education? Torin and Karine Munk Finser, founding members of the Center for Anthroposophy, returned from their odyssey to India with some pictures and reflections that, in conversation with their colleague Douglas Gerwin at the Center, inspired this brief captioned photo essay. And what of the “sacred cows” that roam the hallways of Waldorf schools? They too range freely and unchallenged, disrupting the flow of pedagogical traffic and ignoring social agreements and conventions. They bring discussions to a crashing halt because they brook no challenge. And while they may not always be venerated, they are nonetheless protected for life. At the same time, of course, they may remind us of the spiritual origins of our work and bring a certain calm and stability to our day. In this sense they present themselves as creators of rhythm and sustainability, and we are expected to be their stewards. Sacred cows may sometimes be found in statements beginning with the phrase: “In a truly successful Waldorf school . . . [followed by] . . . main lesson is the first class of the day.” . . . class teachers complete a full cycle from grades 1 to 8.” . . . each pupil makes a main lesson book for every main lesson subject.” . . . the teachers run the school.” . . . major decisions are agreed by consensus.” . . . computers are kept out of the classroom.” . . . television is banned outright in the lower grades, restricted in the upper grades.” . . . eurythmy is a required subject in all grades.” . . . the color black is omitted from chalkboard drawings.” . . . each grade has its own class (none are combined).” . . . elementary school children are seated by their temperament.” . . . the main lesson begins with the same verse each morning.” . . . the teacher shakes the hand of each student every morning.” . . .the pentatonic, or mood of the 5th, is the only appropriate musical scales for younger children.” . . . early childhood classes start a week or more later and end the year earlier in order to preserve the etheric of the children.” . . . a Waldorf high school education is always the best alternative for an 8th grader.” . . . early childhood teachers and eurythmists need to work fewer hours per week than other teachers.” . . . grades school teachers do not teach reading until second grade.” . . . board members who have not studied Anthroposophy are expected to take a back seat in decision making.” . . . parents, though they pay tuition, are not ‘purchasing’ an education.” As their name suggests, there may be some divine wisdom hidden in these “sacred cow” statements, and yet they need to be discovered anew, not simply tolerated or assumed. Why do we do the things we do? By asking this question over and again, these statements come to life because they come to consciousness. Only then can they serve
Newsletter Spring 2012
The term “media” has an interesting and surprisingly short biography. As recently as the 1970s the Oxford English Dictionary listed only three meanings for this term––the oldest going back no further than the 1840s––and none of them had anything to do with newspapers, magazines, radio, film, or television, though the phrase “mass media” has circulated in popular American parlance since the 1920s. Instead, “media” is listed in the OED as a biological term denoting the middle membrane of an artery, while in phonetics it refers to a soft mute sound, such as in the consonants “b”, “g”, or “d”. The third definition is simply as the plural of the noun “medium”. On this view, iron bars or pools of water or even table tappers could be described as being “media” for sounds, waves, or disembodied spirits. Today “media” is such common (and sometimes abused) currency that we all know––or think we know––what we mean by it. In this issue of Center & Periphery (the quarterly “electronic media” newsletter published by the Center for Anthroposophy), we explore different aspects of what by now we call “the media”, especially in their relationship to technology as vehicles or platforms for education. Other topics in this issue embrace the multi-layered meanings of “media” as they relate to transitions, transformations, developmental stages, financial assistance, or simply the experience––so common among Waldorf teachers––of getting ready to jump into a new course or an unexpected task in medias res. Douglas Gerwin, Director Center for Anthroposophy In this Issue Dateline Amherst, MA: When Is Technology a Tool? When a Crutch? In the context of this year’s national “Screen-Free Week”[30 April – 6 May], Douglas Gerwin, Director of the Center for Anthroposophy, offers some reflections––and a question addressed to the reader––on the role of technology in education. During the course of history, advances in technology have typically been accompanied by stern warnings about their false promises and dangers to our physical or mental health. Listen only to the words of Thamus, legendary king of Thebes, who according to Socrates had this to say to the divine Theuth when the Egyptian god presented the king with a new technology for recording events and memories called “writing”: “If men learn this,” exclaimed the king, “it will impart forgetfulness in their souls; they will cease to exercise memory because they rely on that which is written, calling things to remembrance no longer from within themselves, but by means of external marks. What you have discovered is a recipe not for memory, but for reminder.” “And it is no true wisdom that you offer your disciples,” he went on, “but only its semblance, for by telling them of many things without teaching them you will make them seem to know much, while for the most part they know nothing, and as men filled, not with wisdom, but with the conceit of wisdom, they will be a burden to their fellows.” [Plato, Phaedrus, 275a-b] Similar outcries during the Renaissance were launched against the printing press, and in more recent times we have heard laments about the corrosive effects on our language of the tape recorder, the typewriter, the word processor, spell check, and now e-mail and Twitter and AAA –– the Age of Acronyms and Abbreviations. A modern-day Cassandra might well tweet, “OMG. How un42n8!” Thamus’ words of caution did not prevent writing from becoming an increasingly widespread tool, first among priests and scholars and by now in the pudgy hands of every eager first grader. No elementary school teacher would wish it otherwise. And yet there is prescience in Thamus’ warning. Our powers of memory today, it would seem, are no match for those of the Ancient Greek bards, who we are told could recite Homer’s epic poems by heart, hours at a time. And I hear high school teachers say they can tell by its tone and fluency whether a student’s essay was hand-written or composed on a keyboard. Do I wish to imply that we should roll back the teaching of writing or extend this month’s “Screen-Free Week” to all electronic communication? No. (How, after all, could I expect you to be reading this article, if I did?) Rather, my point is to suggest that Socrates’ cautionary tale hints at an aspect of technology we may be prone to overlook. As the root meanings of the word suggest, technology [Gr. techne, “tool” and “way, means”] implies something about instruments, on the one hand, and something about ways to use them, on the other. Now, before you can make use of a tool, you need first to develop a measure of skill to carry out on your own the physical or mental deed that the tool is intended to make easier. Don’t give toddlers a hammer, for example, until they have mastered some level of skill at hitting things accurately. Keep calculators away from children until they have acquired some proficiency in arithmetic operations. In the first case, youngsters need to build up physical muscle before a hammer can serve as a useful (rather than as a recklessly destructive) tool; in the second case, children need to build up “spiritual muscle”––say, through mental math––before a calculator can function as a useful aid to intellectual operations rather than as a substitute for them. Herein lies the key: give a child a tool early on in life, and it will supplant the very skill it was intended to supplement. In other words, tools become prosthetics, or crutches, if introduced too soon. Their use also tends to become addictive. The same case can be made about any piece of technology, to the degree that it enhances a human skill or way of doing something. Electronic media are no exception. The fundamental questions remain the same: Which human skill are these electronic “tools” designed to assist or even mimic? At which age will children have developed these skills sufficiently so that these “tools” can serve rather than subvert them? Let’s take television, perhaps one of the
Newsletter Winter 2012
Though the shift from lengthening darkness of night to gradual lengthening of daytime happened more than 40 days and nights ago, it may be taking this long truly to feel the effect of burgeoning sunlight. As the groundhog famously heralds, this is the time of year to feel the stirrings of nature both outer and inner. In this issue we focus on new stirrings: of light but also of initiatives, of travels to new continents, of new programs and courses for the coming summer months, of sales and new philanthropic targets. “Lights . . . camera . . . .” Douglas Gerwin, Director Center for Anthroposophy In this Issue Dateline Punxsutawney, PA: The Significance of Groundhog Day for High Schools For some, this day offers a clue each year as to the length of winter. But for applicants to the Waldorf High School Teacher Education Program, this date has quite other significance. Douglas Gerwin, as chair of this program, explains. According to a medieval legend imported by German settlers to this town in Western Pennsylvania, the presence or absence of sunshine on February 2nd foretells the length of winter remaining. In the American version of this ritual, if the groundhog pops out of its hole and sees its shadow on this day, the remainder of winter will be long and cold; if it does not, winter is on its way out. Though it may sound counter-intuitive, a sunny day on February 2nd means lingering cold, according to this tradition; a cloudy day presages an early spring. In the Christian calendar, this date is known as Candlemas, a lesser-known holiday celebrated 40 days after Christmas that marks the exact mid-point between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. For high school teachers aspiring to work––or perhaps already working––in a Waldorf school, this date falls exactly one day after the formal deadline for applying to the Waldorf High School Teacher Education Program (WHiSTEP) sponsored each July by the Center for Anthroposophy. This year will mark the 17th cycle of this three-summers program, which offers specialized courses for teachers in Arts and Art History, English Language and Literature, History and Social Science, Life Sciences and Earth Sciences, Mathematics and Computer Studies, Physics and Chemistry, and Pedagogical Eurythmy. Candidates for this program––which this year starts on Sunday 1 July and runs through Saturday 28 July––can apply online at www.centerforanthroposophy.org or by contacting the Center at (603) 654-2566. Detailed syllabi of these specialized courses for high school teachers are also available at this site. Applications are processed during the months of February and March, regardless of the weather. Dateline Wilton, NH: Lighten Up! The Cadmus Lending Library, now housed in the basement of the Center for Anthroposophy, has gained a new perspective on the world. Milan Daler, the Center’s administrator who spearheaded this move, reports. Basements, often dark and damp, are generally not the best place to store books and journals, especially if the space is old. As it happens, the building owned by the Center for Anthroposophy is the oldest structure on Main Street, Wilton, having survived two rapacious fires that swept through the town during the 1800s. In fact, during the early days of the town, this four-story brick building served as the town hall; to this day the basement boasts two tiny jail cells. In more recent years, the building has housed an arts supply store, which the Center acquired and completely renovated when it bought the building in 2008. Since the basement is a walk-out structure, with three walls above ground, it has turned out––contrary to expectations––to be an ideal home for the Cadmus Library, a collection of rare anthroposophical books and magazines. To prepare this home, the Center, with help from the Cadmus Corporation, renovated a large portion of the basement as a reading room and library, putting in new wooden flooring, heating, and lighting, along with new shelves and furniture. The reading room not only houses the collection but also serves as meeting place and studio for artistic workshops for local children and seminars for students in the Waldorf program at Antioch University New England. In addition, thanks to a grant from the Cadmus Corporation, the Library recently acquired a new laptop computer, which can be linked for research to the Internet through the building’s Wi-Fi signal. Although the basement was designed with a single window overlooking the Souhegan River at the back of the building, the fact remained that the space felt a little dark. This has now been remedied by the installation of a new window cut into a side wall facing the neighbors. To be sure, the new window does not offer any scenic vistas, but the play of light coming in from a second outside source has made the room feel much brighter and more connected to the outside world. It has become all the more inviting as a place for meeting, studying, and conducting workshops. The lesson to this story? What a difference an extra source of light can make! Dateline Wilton, NH: Artists Young and Younger Peak into some lively workshops for budding young artists led by the artist, author, and Waldorf teacher Elizabeth Auer. In recent months, Elizabeth Auer, a veteran arts and class teacher at Pine Hill Waldorf School, has been offering an after-school arts and crafts program three times a week for children aged 8-13 in the Cadmus Library Room below the Color Shop & More. Activities have included embroidery, needle felting, mosaics, book binding, and basketry. Under Elizabeth’s expert eye, children from five local schools have been free to work on projects of their own choosing, sharing with each other in a relaxed, informal atmosphere of friendship and camaraderie. Occasionally parents have also joined in with a project of their own. Elizabeth, who recently earned her M.Ed. from the Waldorf program at Antioch University New England, is currently on sabbatical after completing an eight-year journey with her class at the Pine Hill, where she also led Extra Lesson classes as well as
Newsletter Autumn 2011
For some, the trick was a treat, for others a major disruption of their lives. A surprise early snowstorm on the weekend of Hallowe’en dumped a soggy white blanket of two feet and more on much of New England, bringing down leafy trees, knocking out power lines, and interrupting services for millions of households. Many towns sent out urgent robo-call messages to their residents, canceling Hallowe’en trick or treating because roads were impassable and mighty tree limbs were trapped overhead in sagging power lines. Schools in the region were closed for several days––for some this was a treat, of sorts––while crews worked night and day to clear roads and restore electricity. Fortunately, light and heat were restored at the central offices of the Center for Anthroposophy after only one business day, which means we can bring you the Autumn 2011 issue of our online newsletter Center & Periphery on schedule (though some of our colleagues in the surrounding periphery are still lacking basic services). Catch up on news of our venerable Georg Locher, listen in on the start-up of new Foundation Studies clusters stretching from Maine to Georgia, find out where our most recent high school graduates are working, and get a sneak preview of next summer’s Renewal Courses. Scroll down the page (or click on the items listed in the table of contents to the right) and you will find some extra treats, too. Douglas Gerwin, Director Center for Anthroposophy In this Issue Dateline Forest Row, GB: Update on Georg Locher During her recent trip to Europe, Karine Munk Finser and her family paid a visit to Georg Locher at his home in Forest Row, England. She reports here on her conversations with Georg and his remarkable recovery. In the last issue of our newsletter, we reported on “Life without Georg” during our summer Renewal Courses and Waldorf teacher training programs in Wilton, New Hampshire. Georg was unable to teach in these programs because he was recovering from a stroke suffered last May. Torin and I had the privilege of visiting Georg and his wife Angela in August at their beautiful home in Forest Row where they have lived for several decades. We arrived in the evening and great was the relief to see our dear friend and colleague looking very much himself––albeit slightly slimmer––with the same warm voice, the same bright eyes, and of course the same largeness of soul. We spent several days with the Lochers, enjoying moments of far-reaching conversation and memorable stories. Several hours of our visit were spent around a bountiful kitchen table, others on the stone porch surrounded by flowers and a view over Angela’s lovingly tended garden. Georg offered a guided tour of paintings displayed throughout the house –– each with its own story. One could feel: “Here is Beauty everywhere present, the artistic is the transformative element!” As he is known to do in his seminars and workshops, Georg enriched our conversations with words of wisdom and gentle wit. He described, for instance, the balance between “coming forth” and “holding back” needed in the practice of teaching or leadership. The former may have the gesture of “avalanche”, especially in moments when silence and quiet watchfulness are required. We spoke about the extremes that face us in life and of the divine mercy that softens the edges; how human beings can help one another finish the stories that we may begin but not manage to end properly. Through loving deeds of responsibility towards one another, we can help carry one another’s impulses even beyond the limits of time and space. More than ever, the broad gesture of Georg’s being stood before me. He points to the wide peaceful middle place in the soul where extremes find their balance. Whenever we live too much in the polarities––swinging from active to passive, from over-active to exhausted––Georg restores the middle by his sheer presence, by his great strength of soul and gentle regard. We remain hopeful that Georg will be able to rejoin us soon in some capacity, at least during the Center’s annual Renewal Courses he helped to found over a decade ago. Dateline Wilton, NH: New Line-up for Renewal Courses in 2012 Several new presenters will be joining the roster of faculty during the next round of week-long Renewal Courses. Karine Munk Finser, Coordinator of Renewal Courses, outlines prospects for a busy and stellar Summer 2012. Preparations for our 13th year of Renewal Courses in Wilton, New Hampshire are well underway. Here is a sneak preview of the line-up for June and July 2012. More courses will be announced soon, so please check in with us often on our website! Preliminary listings: Week I: June 24th – June 29th Hans-Broder von Laue, MD – “Cancer: The Living Forces and the Soul Experiences near the Threshhold” Christof Wiechert – The Art of Child Study Christopher Bamford – The Sacred Heart of Abraham Craig Giddens and Debbie Spitulnik – Pedagogical Speech Eleanor Winship – Experiencing Music as a Path to the Spirit through Singing and Eurythmy Torin Finser – In-Between: Building Relationships for a Healthy Waldorf School Administration Leonore Russell and Carla Comey – Eurythmy AWSNA Mentoring Course Lorey Johnson and Kati Manning – World Languages Iris Sullivan – Pure Colors Week II: July 1st- July 6th Dennis Klocek – Body, Soul, and Spirit: Dialogues with the Divine Gunther Hauk – Honeybees in Crisis: Our Evolving Relationship with the Animal Kingdom Regine Kurek and Linda Larson – Picture Your Life: Exploring Biography through Eurythmy and the Arts Laurie Clark and Rena Osmer – Healing Gestures: Renewing Forces for the Early Childhood Teacher, Health-Giving Opportunities for the Young Child Aonghus Gordon and his Master Craftsmen – from Ruskin Mill Jamie York – Projective Geometry Beyond this array of courses, there will be evenings of lectures and music, as well as our usual artistic soirees. Consult the Center’s website (www.centerforanthroposophy.org) for updates on these lists and full course descriptions. Early registration is strongly recommended since our beautiful site on the campus of High Mowing School in Southeastern New Hampshire has a limited
