NEWS
‘Ambassador of Beauty’: Mary Bailey to Discuss Legacy of Great-Grandfather, Arts Educator Henry Turner Bailey
by MADELINE DEABLER on AUGUST 13, 2024
In the first sentence of his book Art Education, Henry Turner Bailey stated that he believed “the purpose of art education is the development of appreciation for the beautiful and of the power to produce beautiful things.”
Bailey, also known as HTB, was hired as director of the School of Arts and Crafts at Chautauqua Institution in 1906 to upgrade and expand its arts and crafts curriculum, and his vision was the driving force behind the design of the Arts Quad.
Over the course of his life, HTB emerged as a prominent national advocate for transforming art education in public schools. “Such taste and skill will not appear when the teacher stamps his foot,” he wrote in Art Education. “They are fruits. They must be grown.”
HTB held the belief that art should not be a privilege for the wealthy, but an essential part of everyday life, aligning perfectly with the vision of the Institution’s founders John Heyl Vincent and Lewis Miller. They championed the idea that education, including art, should be universally accessible, enriching, and integrated into daily activities.
More than 100 years later, his great-granddaughter, artist and lifelong Chautauquan Mary Bailey will present “Henry Turner Bailey: Ambassador of Beauty & Director of the Chautauqua School of Arts and Crafts 1906-1916,” about the life and legacy of her great-grandfather, at Chautauqua's Hall of Philosophy as part of the Oliver Archives Center’s Heritage Lecture Series.
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Mary Bailey and her great-grandfather Henry Turner Bailey
NEWS FLASH – My short story LOST, included in the 2023 Connecticut Literary Anthology published by Woodhall Press, has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize! Go to woodhallpress.com to order copy of the anthology.
Read opening excerpt of my story below....
LOST
A hand, a leg, an eye, a lip, a cock. The parts of man I see at night. I came here to be alone and was alone—then, too alone. They keep coming and coming and I keep coming and it’s too much but it’s not enough and I can’t tell the difference between them anymore. They save me and condemn me to life.
They feed me, wash me, bring me each day. I warm myself in their desire. I move through worlds and worlds– no life has ever been so fully lived as mine. I am lost.
And they are lost too but don’t know it at first. They try to leave, just like I did. They make a big deal out of saying goodbye. They open the door, look back, wave, then disappear into the snowy woods. But sooner or later they return and pretend to be angry. They tell me they’re trapped, that they can’t find their way out. They blame this on me, accuse me of casting some sort of spell over them, but I haven’t.
The woods have closed their doors.