Deb Aronson

Object Lessons

High artistry, masterful teaching form alloy of excellence in metalsmithing class

First appeared in Illinois Alumni in April 2011 under Profiles

When I walk into Billie Jean Theide’s metalsmithing class, I seem to have time-warped to the 1950s.

High, wooden desks reminiscent of architects’ drafting tables fill the second-floor classroom. Gooseneck lamps provide an ambient glow. Radiators clank and hiss. We are warm within the walls of an old brick building, tucked amid greenhouses in a quiet corner of campus.

Then Theide speaks, and I am surprised - a strikingly deep voice for such an average-sized woman. But ultimately her voice, with its cello-like timbre, her squared-off fingers and strong, jewelry-free hands suit this woman who is both stern and warm, demanding and supportive.

Today the 19 University of Illinois students present their final project of the semester: a vessel. Theide pulls a black sheet of paper from an enormous roll to create a runner on a long, low table. The students, a mix of men and women, grads and undergrads, gather around and place their vessels on it.

There follows a short tutorial about the etiquette of handling other people’s projects: Ask first before you handle someone’s piece; take off any jewelry to avoid scratches or other damage; don’t crowd the vessels close together; give them breathing space.

Personally, I’m no artist, and the objects on the table appear unremarkable. My first, philistine thought is that there’s nothing there I’d want to buy. But as the students speak of the work - Theide has them talk about another student’s work rather than their own - I begin to see the skill and the intent behind each piece.

Making objects

“I have always thought of myself not as a teacher but as an artist who is sharing my practice,” says Theide (pronounced “THIGH-dee”).

And Theide is a metals artist of international repute (primarily known for her teapots), though her projects range widely, exploring silversmithing, metals and most recently, porcelain. Her work is owned by more than 20 museums, including the Smithsonian American Art Museum and the Museum of Arts and Design in New York City. She has been featured in more than 400 exhibitions around the world and in countless publications.

Last year, Theide was named the James Avery Endowed Chair in the UI College of Fine and Applied Arts - an especially momentous honor since it is the first-ever endowed chair in the School of Art + Design, with FAA,(confusing part about Art and Design and FAA?) and a recognition of her stature in the art world, as well as her teaching prowess. The metals program ranks among the top handful in the country; since 1988, nearly 40 students have earned their master’s degree in fine arts there and have gone on to teach and practice as artists and designers.

Despite her international reputation and travels, Theide has lived much of her life in the Midwest. She grew up in Des Moines, Iowa, where she had her first experience with metals in junior high school. “I was always drawn toward objects making,” she says. Theide double majored in graphic design (commercial art) and jewelry and silversmithing at Des Moines’ Drake University. After working briefly as a graphic designer, she was ready to learn more about metals and 3-D. She headed to Indiana University Bloomington and its well-respected MFA program in metals, where she looked to find “something to say with that material.”

While Theide hadn’t considered a career in academics, after finishing up at Indiana she taught at San Diego State University for a year. She found she liked the atmosphere. “I liked being around young adults,” Theide says. “I would give them a problem, and it was really interesting to see what their response to that problem was.”

After a brief stint at Drake, she arrived at Illinois in 1985.

Finding their voice

As a teacher, Theide is both organized — her syllabi are legendary — and flexible. If the “class seems sluggish,” she says, “if I can sense they need something else, we’ll take an impromptu field trip” - around the corner to Krannert Art Museum, down the highway to a St. Joseph antique shop to look at the silver plate or off to Chicago galleries to get the students thinking about the broader field of metals.

Theide is deeply admired by her students, who liken her less to a mother hen, clucking over her charges, than to a hawk, watching from a distance and encouraging the “little birdies to fly the nest,” says Allie Cicero, a UI senior from Rockford.

When she was trying to decide on her concentration, Cicero e-mailed Theide - whom she had never met - about why she had chosen metals.

“She wrote me a novel,” says Cicero, in amazement. “I thought, ‘If she’s taking that much time to talk to a potential student, imagine what she’ll be like as a teacher.’” Theide, who has received numerous teaching awards, recalls a student telling her, “‘You gave me the confidence to make me think I could do it myself.’

“That’s probably the nicest compliment anyone ever gave me,” Theide says, “because that’s ultimately what I want them to be able to do - I want them not to need me when they graduate.”

That’s why she is careful not to show her own work to her students. “I don’t want them to think they have to make things that look like mine,” she says.

Theide’s goal is to help students find their own voice, not mimic hers. “The closer they come to finding that voice, the closer their work comes to being a cohesive whole and becoming known,” she says. “They build their own aesthetic.”

In the metalsmithing class I visit, Theide never says anything like, “I love this,” or “This is good.” Her comments are uniformly constructive and nonjudgmental, like “It takes a lot of extra effort to make the material appear soft, like terra cotta”; she asks many “what-do-you-see, what-does-that-make-you-think-of” kinds of questions. Theide models how to talk about a piece, and soon the students do it, too. They speak of how a rim works in conjunction with the interior and the exterior of the vessel. They mull over the choice of patina and the orientation of a given piece.

By the end of the class period, I feel as if my eyes have been opened so that I can see the artistry encompassed in these vessels. I am a newcomer who has learned volumes in one short hour. After a whole semester, I can only imagine the way her students feel.