PrintAh, Butler, the place most of us have come to know as a second home—that is, if your home is a self-imposed dungeon of constant reading, typing, caffeinating, and procrastinating. Butler Library, like so much at Columbia, is both a dream and a nightmare. On one hand, it has over two million books and beautiful rooms to study in. On the other, it has grumpy guards, odd smells, and limited seating that makes finding an empty chair a process that’s a bit like natural selection—only the early studiers survive. But “The But” has a lot more to offer than just a place where you can stay on Facebook until 3 am and not feel completely guilty (hey, at least you made it to the library!). Butler is also home to an extensive collection of art that allows students to study in style.
Immediately upon entering Butler, library-goers are confronted by Eugene Savage’s otherworldly mural of Athena. Students have a range of reactions to the piece: as Dina Georgas, a Barnard junior, comments, “The Athena mural is an amazing example of classical grandeur. It makes me proud to go to this school.” Others have more negative observations. “The appliqué on Athena’s toga looks like fifty year old gum!” said Alisha Kaplan, a Barnard junior. This famous Butler mural is a mix of kitsch and class. The regal portrait of Athena, goddess of wisdom and knowledge and our most beloved Alma Mater, stands in front of a déclassé background image of the Empire State building, imitating an art deco style. Gruesome hulk-like beings that glow an effervescent green crouch menacingly below the unperturbed Athena. The goddess herself, though beautiful, bears an uncanny resemblance to Barbra Streisand.
Elizabeth Hutchinson, professor of American art at Barnard, gives some background on the mural: “Savage was a successful painter whose career began in the heyday of American mural painters in the interwar years. The Athena is typical of his work in the 1930s, offering a composition that combines images of ‘everyday folk’ as were popular in the ’30s with allegorical representations that allowed him to demonstrate his mastery of the figure,” she says. Eugene Savage’s mural is indicative of Butler’s overall design: an amalgamation of American and Classical artistic principles. The prominent location of this important piece inspires students to take on Athena’s strength and stare calmly at the hideous green beast of studying as they walk into Butler.
Savage’s work has also been described as a “decadent manifestation of Classicism,” a description that applies to Butler as a whole. As Tamar Newman, a GS sophomore, comments, “Butler was designed with the intention to inspire intellectuality. The art’s emphasis is on aesthetics rather than functionality. The whole place feels like a stuffy men’s club, but in the best sense.”
Butler is certainly not short on portraits of dignified, aged men. Hutchinson explains that libraries “have been an important space for the display of portraits for centuries. Gazing at the heads of notable figures was thought to offer important lessons in history and character akin to those offered by reading.” Under the stern gazes of these high rollers from the past, one has the urge to don tweed, light a Cuban, and chat with chaps about the races.
The portrait of Queen Elizabeth and King Charles VI’s visit to Columbia on the third floor is especially evocative. It portrays a staid, English way of life that contrasts nicely with the framed “Brokeback Mountain” movie poster on the opposite wall—part of an ongoing exhibit. Oh, the dichotomy!
Across from the circulation desk stands another of Butler’s esteemed donors: Lawrence A. Wien, Doctor of Law and recipient of honoris causa in 1974. Wien is commemorated by a Rodin-esque bust with deep craters that look like an artistic rendering of acne scars. Walk into the main reading room, and you will find a vast collection of Wien memorabilia including everything from his diplomas to his soccer ball and fencing sword. En garde! The achievements of this great Columbian remind us of the sweet victories that await at the end of four years—provided that we finish that 30-page paper by sunrise. Save your Frisbees just in case.
Also worthy of a visit is the stained glass mural of a peg-legged Peter Stuyvesant on the main floor near the video reserves. The engraving reads, “Stained glass window given by the people of the Netherlands and Antilles to New York on the 300th Anniversary of New Amsterdam.” This room also boasts a gilded map of Manhattan behind the clock, in case you should forget where you are in the midst of translating “The Iliad” into Ancient Greek or hyperventilating over a chemistry problem set.
Unfortunately, most students say they’ve never noticed Butler’s extensive art collection. Josh Faber, a GS junior, argues that this is a good thing: “The best décor art is the sort that you can ignore. The art should blend into its environment.” Butler is indeed like an old New York broad—classic, elegant, sturdy, yet understated. Her accessories add flare without detracting from the overall experience of the library, which provides an atmosphere that is conducive to learning. The art in Butler can be stuffy, silly, and even pretentious, but it lends a sense of glorified seriousness to the appropriation of knowledge. Even if you dread going to Butler, you can’t help falling under its spell.