From the Issue: Mythic Tradtion
We continue to respect our heritage/amorous affair with our mother-magazine, The Blue & White by posting each issue of the magazine online. The latest issue, available this week around campus, is a cornucopia of delights: a harrowing (and fictional) account of the muscles that guard the cheeses at Westside , a strikingly beautiful account of a trek into Pennsylvania coal country. This month staff writer Claire Heyison recounts the history of an age when Barnard’s Greek Games were sincere.
A group of women, barefoot and draped in cheesecloth togas, enters LeFrak Gymnasium wielding torches. Two priestesses, one first-year and one sophomore, light a fire atop an altar honoring the patron deity, and the sophomore priestess recites a Greek invocation, blessing and celebrating the day. Suddenly, one of the sophomores springs up, issuing a challenge of skills in Greek to the first-year class, who answer. The first-year and sophomore classes then compete in a series of athletic and artistic competitions, presided over by a high priestess from the senior class, a panel of judges, and thousands of spectators. The winning athletes and aesthetes are crowned with laurel wreaths as their classmates celebrate their victory with cries of “Nike! Nike!”
This elaborate ceremony used to take place at Barnard every spring. The Greek Games began in 1903, when the class of 1906 challenged the first-year class to feats of strength loosely based on ancient Greek competitions. The earlier games were informal, and the audience was restricted to students and faculty. Men were forbidden from watching, lending the Games a mysterious, Eleusinian intrigue and thereby instituting the grand Columbia tradition of sneaking into LeFrak to watch the proceedings from the balcony.
Slowly, the Games evolved. In 1908 the categories of song and dance were introduced, by 1909 the students began dedicating each Game to a specific patron deity, and in 1913 men and members of the outside community were invited to watch and judge. As the Games grew in popularity, they attracted guests ranging from Christopher Morley to W. H. Auden (who judged the lyric poetry competition in 1947), and even piqued the curiosity of the Columbia community. As the Spectator put it in 1959: “We came to mock; we stayed to cheer.”
Tags: bacchanalia, Barnard Spirit, from the issue, Greek Games, May 2011, the blue and white, this was actually legit, yay pagan rites!
16 May 2011 @ 12:00 PM · Post a comment






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