From solo recitals to symphony orchestras, Oberlin concerts range in grandeur. Instrumentation, number of performers, and time to prepare affect some repertoire choices. Practical decisions aside, the more nuanced selections aim to create an enjoyable and fulfilling experience for the audience. Concert designers may pick a theme, blending similar sounds and ideas into a melodic conversation. Alternatively, they may create contrast by showcasing disparate pieces side by side. Every performing artist develops unique tastes, and hopes to share their distinct vision with their audience. The Verona Quartet, a highly acclaimed chamber group in residence at Oberlin, reimagine their set list seasonally. 

Abigail Rojansky, OC ’11, the Verona Quartet’s violist, described their collaborative process of music selection in preparation for a concert cycle. Origin and time period do not constrain the quartet’s repertoire. They compile manifold musical works in a shared document before narrowing down possibilities through open discussion. Above all else, they prioritize beautiful music.

“When something is expertly written for the instruments at hand, then you are speaking the music through your tool,” Rojansky said. “Any physical challenges there might be to playing technically, they’re all for the greater musical purpose, and that’s very gratifying — when you feel challenged technically but can sense an exhilarating and worthwhile end goal that you can apply yourself towards.”

The Verona Quartet’s debut album, Shatter, encompasses their repertoire selection philosophy. Released in June 2023, Shatter features world-premiere recordings of music from current American composers. The title itself invokes a destruction of the glass ceiling and an attempt to overcome invisible barriers that hinder a borderless appreciation of music. Shatter celebrates the creative diversity burgeoning within the American music scene. 

“They were all pieces that we became really passionate about, and all by contemporary American composers,” Rojansky said. “But each with a different perspective and very different voices. We thought that that would be a really exciting snapshot of right now, the current American landscape.”

The first piece on Shatter, a quartet by Indian-American composer Reena Esmail, highlights this all-encompassing, cross-cultural goal. Esmail pulls from Indian and Western classical music to weave a vibrant musical tapestry. From a fundamental standpoint, the differences in the scales used in both traditions present a challenge. However, Esmail’s goal wasn’t to merely combine the two traditions and push musicians toward a foreign style, but rather to create something entirely new.

“It’s not just classical players playing a style outside of our realm or a Hindustani singer singing in the classical style,” Rojansky said. “No, we asked [Esmail] about it, and she said, ‘I’m seeking to create something that is unique on its own; it’s another type of music.’ We asked her what she would tell somebody who says we’re trying to claim a style of music that doesn’t belong to us, that we haven’t grown in. She responded that as an Indian American, she feels honored and happy when classical Western players can partake in what she understands, grew up with, and loves.”

Conservatory students are given a chance to try their hand at setlist construction during their junior and senior recitals. Blake Logan, a Conservatory fourth-year cellist, took the opportunity to branch away from traditional classical pieces. 

“I was trying to challenge the canon of what is usually performed and the idea that there are a couple of composers that are geniuses and that those are the only ones that are worth learning as a classical music student,” Logan said. “I feel like I can learn so much and grow in so many different ways by playing these pieces that are less well known.”

Logan’s finalized setlist included repertoire from a contemporary Finnish composer, an arrangement of Klezmer folk music, and a self-composed piece. They wanted to perform music that matched their own personality, which required reaching outside the box. The Jewish folk songs and modern compositions acted as a refreshing break from Logan’s 16 years of classical music study.

Including a specific piece in a concert informs the audience of that composition’s perceived value. The exploration of new music in addition to paying homage to the established greats is required to prevent staleness and stagnation.

“It’s incredibly fun to discover new things and share them with people, but it’s also a hefty responsibility because we know that we’re helping to forge the future of this field,” Rojansky said. “What people hear is what they’re going to know.”

The Verona Quartet and other modern pioneers of classical music forge a path for the future of the genre. Their mission is to imagine and endeavor to create a future in which all music is appreciated

“We know where tradition has brought us, and we are grateful for it,” Rojansky said. “We also have the honor of being able to imagine where the future will be for classical music and to create that future. But rather than reacting to where we are, our perspective is to put our minds where they should already be and make our choices from there.”

“Instruments, sculpturally constructed from resonant physical materials, are suspended in free space,” Tudor wrote in the original program note. “The sound materials used to program the instruments are collected from natural scientific sources and are specific to each instrument, exciting their unique resonant characteristics.”

On the night of Oct. 23, the TIMARA Performance Technology Lab transformed into an audiovisual soundscape. A purple glow illuminated dangling wires and uncanny sculptures, while projectors displayed magnified images of vivid organic materials on the walls. Around fifty students arrived to admire this installation, and the volume impeded the possibility of freely wandering through the environment as Tudor originally intended. Instead, they sat on the floor and meditated.

The theme of the night was biomaterial. Aresty gave her students freedom to explore the sounds of materials created in class and foraged objects, attempting to stay true to Tudor’s Rainforest IV while allowing space for creative reimagining. Attached to everything from bioplastics made of tea grounds to a dried gourd, loudspeakers rattled and whistled. In addition, contact microphones interpreted and combined the sound waves in order to broadcast them throughout the room. 

“[The sound sculptures] are part speaker – if you walk up to them, you can hear the sound directly – but they’re also acting as an acoustic filter,” Aresty said. “So the sound that has been sent to the house is essentially filtered through the materials that people chose.”

Jesse Herdman, a third-year performer whose sound sculpture contributed to the environment through fallen branches and a paper microphone, described how the participants communicate. They followed a semblance of a score in the form of multicolored plastics adhered to a long board.

“These are microphone cameras we’re using as a cueing system,” Herdman said, gesturing to a pair of illuminated boxes wired to the plastic board. “It’s a very loose score. We’re sitting in these textures improvising off of each other and the visuals.”

As someone slowly drags a microscope camera across the bioplastics, different textures and colors appear on the walls for performers to “read.”

“So this piece is essentially a routing diagram,” Aresty said. “And then it’s left up to the composers and artists who are participating to interpret the idea. So it’s very much [David Tudor’s] piece, and yet I think the students also very much made it their own.”

Aresty described the material-driven approach established by Tudor. Rather than seek out a specific sound, she encouraged her students to begin with an object and explore the music it can produce. A metal tube rustled against the plastic tentacles of a jellyfish mobile. A composer tickled the buttons of a deconstructed toy guitar. One student blended synthesized bird sounds with the feedback produced from arduino sensors in an illuminated balloon. Another sound sculpture, coated in thermochromic paint, gradually changed color.

“What can we make these materials do, whether or not it’s what it’s supposed to do?” Aresty said. “It’s a very experimental and material-driven approach to composing with electronics. And that, to me, has been extremely influential.”

Aresty earned degrees in music composition, not electronic music production, but Tudor’s principles encouraged her to pursue diverse interests. Through her explorations, she discovered  a community of people working at the intersection of textiles and sound, which has become her passion.

“I’ve taken broad courses in electronics, but it’s been a sort of self driven experimentation over the years for me and others who have been similarly influenced by David Tudor,” Aresty said. “This hands-on, experimental approach to learning electronics opens up a whole world that would otherwise feel closed off. David Tudor’s Rainforest and its material-driven approach was very much a jumping off point for me to work with electronic textiles.”

Tudor’s approach emphasizes out-of-the-box ideas. Aresty hopes this project will inspire her students to take more risks with their music-making at Oberlin and beyond in their careers.

“One of the students said, ‘Oh, I’m gonna remember this forever,’ and that is the number one thing,” Aresty said. “You graduate from school and unless you’re really active in a particular discipline, you start to lose some of the details of the classes you’ve taken. It’s not constant, not something that you’re always thinking about, but [this installation] is a memory that we’ve created together. It will stand out to them as a moment where they, as a class collectively, took a risk and brought all these people together to experiment.”

In reality, tracing hip-hop’s roots back to a single origin would be impossible. A multitude of global musical elements came together to create hip-hop, spurred by the 1970s fiscal crisis in New York City. During this era, much of the white middle class fled to the suburbs, and many communities — predominantly African-American, Puerto Rican, and Caribbean — had to face the consequences of America’s ruthless capitalism and racism, such as rising unemployment and crime rates.  Hip-hop ignited a light in the darkness. The highly danceable beats and bold lyrics spat in the face of urban despair. Artists built upon each other’s innovations, and the genre exploded across the country. 

“Hip-hop is a culture,” Professor of Africana Studies Candice Raynor said. “It’s a movement, and music is one part of it — music, dance, visual art, politics, even certain spiritual practices. There’s just so much there and it’s always been there.”

In observation of hip-hop’s 50th anniversary, Assistant Professor of African American and African Diasporic Musics Courtney-Savali Andrews, OC ’06, hosted a listening party alongside Raynor and Information Literacy and Student Success Librarian Alonso Avila. Students and faculty gathered in the Birenbaum Innovation and Performance Space to hear hip-hop classics from the likes of 2Pac and the Notorious B.I.G. The hosts reflected on their profound connections to the genre and the importance of hip-hop’s underrepresented voices. 

“This culture has something to give to us, and it is worthy of passing down,” Andrews said, after pausing “Main Attraction” by Phat Mob.

Students seem to have a knack for identifying rising hip-hop artists before they become famous. Smino, a rapper from St. Louis, performed at Oberlin before the release of his first album, blkswn. Since then, his fusion of soul, blues, and R&B music has gained massive popularity, but he returned to play another concert at Oberlin in 2022. The following year, rapper TiaCorine performed at Oberlin’s Solarity concert, coinciding with her induction into hip-hop magazine XXL’s Freshman Class of rising artists. In the early 2000s, Oberlin hosted an annual hip-hop conference with the goal of showcasing independent and outspoken artists. Even Kendrick Lamar made an appearance at the ’Sco following the release of Section.80.

The history of hip-hop can be read as a record of racial injustices, from Grandmaster Flash’s 1982 song “The Message” to Kendrick Lamar’s 2015 song “Alright.” However, popular associations with hip-hop have often been negative. 

“People made a lot of assumptions about hip-hop based on who’s performing the music, or based on the use of profanity,” Raynor said, describing how rap is trivialized. 

Unfortunately, the images associated with rap are often violent and misogynistic, largely due to the corporate United States’ exploitation of the genre. Many major record labels encourage these negative stereotypes as a marketing tool, forcing artists into a rigid box. Education surrounding the history of hip-hop and the social commentary behind impassioned lyrics helps counteract these harmful assumptions. 

In recent years, hip-hop has gained more of the scholarly attention it deserves. It has entered classrooms and influenced many genres of music. It has shed light on police brutality and the nationwide housing crisis. Hip-hop embodies the spirit of innovation and radical expression, while paying homage to its origins through samples and remixes. 

“[The 50th Anniversary] lets us hear firsthand from artists of previous generations in hip-hop to keep that history alive,” Raynor said. “That’s what I think is always important for the future, and just in general in society. It’s part of why the study of history is so important. And to see that happening in hip-hop, to see museums being created, and schools having scholars that focus on hip-hop, makes me feel good about the future.” 

Originally from Brazil, Maíra Vianna studied at Berklee College of Music. The multi-talented singer and instrumentalist works as an audio engineer for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Prior to their Wednesday “Engineering Techniques and Career Chat,”  they spoke to the Review about their musical journeys.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

What initially sparked your interest in sound engineering, and how did you take your first steps in this field?

MV: I came to the United States to be a musician. While I was in Brazil, I tried to record my own songs and my friends’ songs. I didn’t know much about it, but I did it anyway. When I got to Berklee for the Jazz program, I started talking with producers, and my interest in being on the other side of the window started to grow. I got an internship at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as an audio visual technician, and that was it. I’m living the dream right now because I get to do my own music, and I get to do music for my friends. I do live music for a bunch of bands that I would never get to know if I wasn’t working at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

DA: I started out as a kid in a band with my three sisters. We wrote our own music when we were 8, 10, 12, and 14. It sounds funny, but we got a record deal in Nashville 15 years later, already experienced with making our own music. I observed so many different producers and studio situations. I was always soaking it up, but didn’t ever expect to be the one eventually working with Pro Tools. After my band left Sony in 2012, I had all this time to work on my own solo stuff, and that’s just what happens. I learned on my own, taught myself Pro Tools and Logic, and then I got deeper into the engineering side of frequencies and plugins. My music is pretty acoustic, so I always experiment with how both electronic sounds and real instruments can play together.

Is staying up-to-date with recent technology and software an important aspect of sound engineering?

DA: I have a friend who is an amazing multi-instrumentalist, musician, songwriter, and producer. He works with big acts, and his home studio only has tape. He records to cassette tapes and sends them off — very analog and pretty cool. He’s not resistant to working with the latest, newest technology in a studio setting, but at home, it’s fun for him. Sound engineering can look so different.

MV: I agree. That’s the cool thing about music and producing and being an audio engineer, because you can make good things with just your phone nowadays. If it’s a grungy project, you can go to your basement and do this really dirty song, and there will be an audience that finds that awesome. Technology does not necessarily dictate whether your product will be good or not. 

What are your favorite projects you’ve worked on?

MV: One that came to mind was my first physical CD. I didn’t mix or master it, but I recorded, composed, and played some of the instruments. It’s called The Fool because I felt like a fool for pursuing my dream and coming to this different country where I didn’t have any money or connections. But it paid off. I’m very proud of that project.

DA: I don’t really have a favorite project per se, but you have to be proud of that first time that you go out and make your own self-composed and self-produced project. That takes some guts. I have a soft spot for my first EP release, which was a collaboration with my husband. We were just friends then, so it was a really fun time getting to know each other in the studio. 

What is one piece of advice you would give your younger selves as you were starting out on this career path?

DA: The word ‘play’ comes to mind — just having fun with it. When you start out in the business so young, it can be difficult. And it is a job — I was working at 12, 13 years old. It was just what I did, and I didn’t have lots of years of experimentation. Everything we made was being assessed. I was trying to get to the next step, get those relationships going. Now I’m in the phase of my life where I’m able to just play and enjoy music for the fun of it. And I wish I had done that more in my younger years, but hindsight is 20/20. 

MV: Music is worth it if you’re doing it just because you love it. Somehow you’re gonna end up in a good place. Doing it just for fun takes Wthe pressure away, and you might be more creative or explore more things. Another thing that I would say to my younger self is don’t compare yourself; everyone is on their own journey. There’s so many ears on this planet; there will be someone who wants to hear what you have to say. Just go — keep swimming. 

Almost every Oberlin student practices a form of music-making in some capacity. Whether it’s a student band performing an impromptu porch set or the Oberlin Orchestra filling Finney Chapel with dense harmonies, music takes the centerpiece of every celebration on campus. No Oberlin house party is complete without a jazz band or an aspiring DJ. This omnipresence of music is precisely the reason many students choose to study at Oberlin, even without plans to pursue music as a career. For College fourth-year Allison Lupatkin, the presence of a conservatory attracted her, but she didn’t realize the opportunities it afforded until arriving on campus.

“Having the Conservatory as a musical force on campus definitely played a role in my decision,” Lupatkin said. “But I don’t think I really saw myself playing music. I just liked the idea of being in a musical space and was pleasantly surprised when the opportunity to play came along.”

Lupatkin enrolled in the Arts & Sciences Orchestra and began taking secondary lessons in cello during her first year.

“It’s a great thing that we have to offer,” Administrative Assistant of Conservatory Audio Services Kaylee Mayer said. “Whether it’s a student in the College who wants to branch off and learn an instrument or a Conservatory student who wants to learn a new instrument. We have options.”

Mayer, who acquired her position in the past year, oversees the instrument depot. Oberlin offers this stockpile of musical instruments to any student enrolled in secondary lessons, completely free of charge. Three years prior, when Lupatkin began her cello lessons, she was only presented with one instrument option. Thanks to Mayer’s efforts over the summer, the instrument depot now displays multiple choices of brass, woodwind, and string instruments. The cello section alone contains a dozen instruments, located in the basement of the Kohl Building.

While some higher level instruments are reserved for specific studios in the Conservatory or winners of concerto competitions, the majority are available based on need. Luka Stefanović, OC ’23, utilized this system for personal use and to furnish his secondary lesson students with cellos and viola da gambas. His viola da gamba students, usually Conservatory musicians, had never played the instrument before. Oberlin provided them with enough quality instruments to share. Some of Stefanović’s students weren’t even string players, but were seeking versatility and a deeper understanding of music theory. Exploring new instruments keeps the learning process exciting and the fresh perspective helps develop a new appreciation for one’s main instrument.

Stefanović also described his experience during cello lessons with College students.

“It was something to delve into that was unlike anything else they were doing in their daily experiences,” Stefanović said. “In the same way that those of us in the Conservatory really appreciate having a College where we can, for a couple hours out of the day, go and do something that stimulates completely different parts of our brain or heart.”

Student teachers like Stefanović provide a degree of comfort to secondary lessons. Musical professors can be intimidating for the uninitiated. Between students, the level of commitment can be as high or low as one wishes. Lanie Cheatham, College fourth-year, is taking her third semester of harp secondary lessons with a student instructor. 

“She [the instructor] really understands what it’s like to be a student and have a large course load,” Cheatham said. “So, if there are some weeks I wasn’t able to practice as much, she’s like, ‘Yeah, I totally get that.’” 

Another upside of secondary lessons is their role in connecting the Conservatory and College. Cheatham felt the lack of contact between the divisions when she arrived, and her harp lessons began to bridge this gap.

“I never really went to the Conservatory before I started taking lessons,” Cheatham said. “Since I started taking lessons I’ve been getting to know my instructor more and also the other students.” 

Not only do secondary lessons familiarize students with Conservatory resources, they help solidify music as a lasting element of their lives. A common thread between students enrolled in secondary lessons were their extracurricular musical activities. Lupatkin formed a duet with her friend while Cheatham performed in a co-op talent show. Other students mentioned joining open ensembles, such as the Musikos Collective or the Creative Music Lab. 

Through secondary lessons and the instrument depot, Oberlin offers anyone the opportunity to pursue a musical career, and these musical options are becoming increasingly accessible. These resources can and should be equally available to the greater student population.

Many musicians begin their journey in a band, finding that the first step to unlocking the magic of music is playing with others. It is a form of connection that transcends words and creates a whole much greater than the sum of its parts. A good band creates beautiful music, not due to feverish practicing and endless rehearsals, but as a product of their personal enjoyment and camaraderie. Jaeckin hopes to cultivate this environment in the Oberlin Civic Winds. 

“I think that if we can share our music in an informal way, it can change one’s life,” Jaeckin said. “And that’s what’s important, you know. To connect as humans and create beautiful music is the most important thing to me as a person.”

Jaeckin conducts a multitude of bands at Langston Middle School and Oberlin High School, yet he still found time to begin the Oberlin Civic Winds. This is Jaeckin’s second year as director of bands. He was disappointed to learn that Oberlin College no longer has a band for non-Conservatory students and that the nearest community ensemble meets in Elyria. The College Band dissolved in 2013 when its conductor, Professor Emeritus of Conducting and Ensembles and Music Education John Knight, went into retirement. Regardless of his limited free time, Jaeckin recognized the need for a community band. Community members, colleagues, and College students all expressed interest in revitalizing the spirit of the College Band. The Oberlin Civic Winds band fills a void in Oberlin’s musical opportunities long missed by the greater community. 

“I mean, there’s a lot that happens at the College and Conservatory, and in Cleveland,” Jaeckin said. “But there’s nothing in Oberlin like what we do.”

The first Oberlin Civic Winds meeting attracted an eclectic group. Age demographics ranged from teenagers to retirees. Current teachers of Oberlin Schools and high school students alike packed into the band room, toting woodwinds and trombones. Jaeckin highlighted one woman’s excitement at playing music again, as she hadn’t touched her French horn in 20 years. She had played in her high school and college bands but had no reason to pick up her instrument again until now.

“That’s actually the whole reason I did this,” Jaeckin explained. “So that people would dust off their horns and be like, ‘Oh, I can actually do this.’”

College second-year Eli Ramer saw a flier for the Oberlin Civic Winds in Robertson Hall on his way to practice the euphonium. Many students choose Oberlin as a way to continue their musical education while focusing on academics. Ramer’s musical education needs were met through secondary lessons; however, as a euphonium player, his options for an ensemble were limited to the Oberlin Brass Ensemble, which predominantly accepts Conservatory students. Ramer jumped at the chance to play in a community concert band. 

“That outlet was something I’ve been looking for for a while,” Ramer said. “I was really happy to see it finally come into existence.”

Ramer had never played in a community band before, but the idea of people with diverse backgrounds joining together to make music intrigued him. 

“It’s a lot of people who are very passionate about music, and really excited to be making music together,” Ramer said. “So it’s just fun to be around it in general. Regardless of skill or age, everyone has an appreciation for and a love of all the music that we’re making.”

Jaeckin’s chosen repertoire underlines his hopes for inclusivity. He wants to respect the American tradition of symphonic band repertoire while introducing more diversity. In a concert planned for this fall, the tentative setlist flows around a myriad of genres and cultures. Jaeckin’s goal is for everyone to find a piece they can connect with. The pieces range from concert band repertoire such as Chorale and Shaker Dance by John Zdechlik, jazz standards like “Autumn Leaves,” and contemporary pieces by Charles Carter. 

The Oberlin Civic Winds represent Jaeckin’s attempt to bring music back to what is most important. He worries that live music has become prohibitive, an opportunity only afforded to the gifted few who devote a lifetime to polishing their musicianship. His group offers an alternative: a space to communally enjoy music as a participant. He emphasizes joy over commitment and knows that beautiful music will result regardless.

“I’m very fortunate I got such a diverse amount of people that first meeting,” Jaeckin said. “They’re all musicians, but they also do every sort of thing that is not music.”

The Oberlin Conservatory has always been an ongoing project. Minoru Yamasaki designed Bibbins Hall in 1963 and one year later oversaw the additions of Robertson Hall and the Central Unit. The Conservatory’s new-age Kohl Building, a modern example of environmentally sustainable design, wasn’t added until 2010. Renovations in Bibbins Hall ended about six years ago, leaving the Central Unit as the next item on the to-do list. 

“We’re always refreshing our spaces,” Dean of the Conservatory William Quillen said. “Renovating spaces is constant; not just in the Conservatory, but campus-wide. … We knew for a while we wanted to update and refresh Central.”

Construction in the Conservatory is difficult to execute quickly. Not only did supply chain issues halt the delivery of new flooring, but summer programs and students’ practice schedules create a very small window in which renovations can take place. The musical commotion of the Conservatory necessitates a glacial pace on even the smallest remodeling projects. At first glance, the flooring and wall paneling may seem like random adjustments, but Quillen argues that these changes will promote student unity, an ideal he values above all else.

“The goal … is to get spaces that are functional for our students, but also that are aesthetically pleasing,” Quillen said. “The vision with Central right now is to aesthetically connect Bibbins and Kohl [Building].”

However, student reactions to the new lockers remain mixed. Brighter lights have replaced the previous harsh yellow ones, and the wooden lockers offer protection from rust and jammed doors, which was a common occurrence in the old design. For Conservatory fourth-year Ethan Pound, the size upgrade to his locker was negligible. He also confirmed that the construction, which occurs at night, has not disturbed his day-to-day life in the Conservatory. 

“People who practice at night would [probably] feel differently,” Pound said. 

Third-year double-degree student Sophie Griffith Oh offered a more skeptical perspective on the ongoing renovations. 

“I chose Oberlin and I liked the [Conservatory] building because it was kind of homey,” Oh said. “It wasn’t too glitzy and new. … I kind of liked the old lockers more than the new, which are a bit of an adjustment.” 

Oh worries that the Conservatory is sacrificing its communal aspects in favor of contemporary amenities. Wooden signs that remain outside of Conservatory concert halls act as evidence that Oberlin wants to stay connected to its history, but this continues to pose a challenge. The designers must balance refurbishment with respect for the past. 

In order to carry out this balancing act, the Conservatory administration consulted with students, faculty, and the original designer of the Kohl Building, Jonathan Kurtz, before renovation in Central began. Associate Dean for Artistic Administration and Operations Michael Straus described how Yamasaki’s original design allowed for students to pass freely throughout the Conservatory Complex.

“Starting with the locker area, [Central] is the hub of a wheel, in a way,” Straus said. “A lot of it’s just logistical. Our students have a lot of instruments and if our buildings were separated, and sort of disjointed, they would have to go out in the wintertime with big, heavy instruments.” 

Beyond the practical advantages of an interconnected complex, the renovations foster a sense of unity by attempting to replicate this togetherness aesthetically. Kurtz aided in designing a color scheme and visual language that combined both sides of the Conservatory, such as utilizing the same flooring throughout.

“The idea there is to have Central really connect the sort of visual references and visual worlds of Kohl and Bibbins,” Quillen said. 

He sees the renovation as a symbolic way to unite the jazz and classical sides of the Conservatory — in fact, the future of the Conservatory complex was planned around this principle. From tiny visual details to the larger roof and floor remodeling, construction efforts prioritize oneness. 

“Above all else, we want to preserve a sense of community, a concentrated space where we all live and work and study together,” Quillen said.