Dear Readers,
Remember when Renn Fayre was spelled Renn Faire? Neither do we, so put on your safety goggles and join us as we travel back to 1967. . . groovy man (1). Check out the five thesis shows in the PAB this weekend, but make sure to read the program carefully so you can follow along (5). Desastre meets on the PAB balcony to showcase some eclectic ’70s themed attire (6). Miss Lonely Hearts deals with drifting hearts (7). If skiing is more your speed, check out Erika’s Mount Hood weather forecast (8). Always last, but never least, this week’s Cultural Column delves deep into awards season. Find out what’s on the Oscar short list (9).
Sincerely,
Lauren, Jordan and Vikram
Sure, it makes sense for us to end the year with a brilliant celebration of our hard work and our mutual love that also serves as an ultimate expression of the freedom we have created for ourselves through our diligence and honor. But cataclysmic catharses don’t just happen because they make sense.
Any of you who have put in time working for the student body will recognize the way Reed traditions grow and survive; original flashes of inspiration are brought to reality by collective effort and then passed down to the next generation; who expand upon them and toil to keep them alive in a sort of simultaneous preservation, resuscitation and evolution.
This article, the first in a series, explores the beginning of that process. During its first decade, Linda Howard’s wholesome Renaissance Faire was built upon (and gradually diluted) by more and more of the recognizable components of today’s Renn Fayre. We’ve chosen 1977, the year of the first Renn Fayre Quest and the first softball tournament, as a cutoff for this edition, but that’s somewhat arbitrary. Like everything at Reed, Renn Fayre has been cumulative; each year, everyone builds upon last year’s efforts. That means what you do this year might just shape its next forty-eight iterations.