Performer: Tears For
Fears
Songwriters: Roland
Orzabal, Ian Stanley
Original
Release:
Songs from the Big Chair*
Year: 1985
Definitive
Version:
None
*
It was released originally as a single in the U.K. in 1984.
The
soundtrack for the following story really ought to be Head Over Heals by Tears
For Fears, but that song didn’t make this here list. This one did, so I’m
telling it now.
When
it became apparent at Wabash that I wanted to pursue journalism after graduation, my academic adviser, Dr.
Herzog, and I ginned up a minor with that in mind. I can’t remember what we called it—I want to
say pre-journalism—but it involved Economics classes, History, Political
Science, Speech and Art.
One
of my Art classes was Music. I don’t know if I’ll discuss that later, but that
was an important class in my music canon, considering that it introduced me
both to John Coltrane and some guy by the name of Mozart. The other art class was
Photography.
I
struggled with Photography my senior year. It was one of the few classes that I
got a B-, which was my worst grade at Wabash. I was surprised I did that well,
actually. My problem was I was thinking—and shooting—like a journalist and not
an artist. I wasn’t thinking conceptually. Also, my dark-room technique was
mediocre. My pictures always seemed to be grainy to a certain extent, and nothing
messes up your artistic vision like a big batch of mud.
It
wasn’t from a lack of effort. The dark room under Yandes Hall (now renamed the
Detchon Center), where photography students developed their photos, was big
enough for two people, so it was in constant use. The exceptions were weekend
nights, so I scheduled my dark-room time for those hours, when I could be left
alone to work as long as I needed.
The
first time I used the dark room to develop film and not just experiment with
photo paper ended up being an all-nighter. In fact, it was the latest
all-nighter I pulled in that I didn’t make it home till 7 in the morning.
It
was a September weekend in 1985, and the Wabash football team played Albion at
Albion, Mich., which is about a four-hour drive from Crawfordsville. Of course,
I called the game for WNDY, which resulted in a disappointing 28-26 loss (one
that ended up costing Wabash the playoffs that year, a spot that went to Albion
as it turned out).
I
made the long drive home as the day dwindled into night, but my day really just
was getting started, because after I dropped off the radio equipment, changed
and grabbed some dinner, it was off to the dark room under Yandes. Saturday
night was perfect, because who else would be in a classroom at Wabash on a
Saturday night? No one.
Actually
one guy from my class WAS there, but he was just wrapping up when I arrived
about 9. He had a party to attend, after all.
I
took a tape, which had Head Over Heels on it, that I could play as loud as I
wanted, and that became an important thing as the hours piled up. I didn’t
anticipate how long the entire process would take.
The
key to producing decent photos is to develop your negatives properly. If you
under- or overdevelop the film, you’re pretty much screwed. You can do only so
much to the print to improve upon a crappy negative.
And,
man, I tried everything I could think of that night, because my negatives on
that assignment were washed out—underdeveloped. I must have made three dozen
prints, all in painstakingly deliberate fashion, before I thought I had a
half-dozen that were decent enough that I could turn in for the assignment.
The
time rolled on, but, perhaps it was because of being in a room that had only
the dim-orange light typical of dark rooms, my body didn’t seem to notice. The
only indication of the time was a clock on the wall. I remember looking over at
one point, and it was 4. I felt fine, so I kept going.
I
didn’t wind up my work until it was around 7. When I left, it was light
outside, and I hiked through the arboretum to my apartment on Wabash Avenue
feeling, well, not great, because my work seemed substandard, but not terrible
from having been up all night after a very long day.
I
had other late nights that semester in the dark room but no more all-nighters.
I
don’t remember the grade I got on that assignment, but it couldn’t have been
that great given my overall grade. (I got an A- late in the semester, which
saved my grade from falling into the dreaded C category.)
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