Sister Juliet Namiiro, a tiny, serene, irrepressible Ugandan disciple of St. Francis of Assisi in a tan habit and fleece vest, is explaining to me how I might raise pigs to finance my education.
I disliked Ove even before I met him, the instant a neighbor placed Fredrik Backman’s debut novel, A Man Called Ove, in my hand, gently insisting I should read the book and — even more infuriatingly! — insisting I would like it.
Dan Farrell's Antiques Roadshow has been helping treasure hunters sort the gems from their junk for 22 years — and entertaining the rest of us along the way.
Accompanying God on piano
For Bobby Kloska '90, a simple cell-phone snap of a snowy Grotto became a yearlong flurry of comments, thanks and connections made through the power of grace.
A plate of cookies sat on a table by the door, half-empty by the time I arrived. Coffee in cardboard boxes and a stack of clean paper cups. I didn’t dare pour one for myself because I was late, having walked halfway around McCourtney Hall, angsty and out of breath and unable to find the “auditorium.” Plus which, I’d never been to a doctoral defense before.
Salvaged brick from the university's earliest days helps rebuild the campus.
Experience a touch of the rare tingling elation that composer and pianist J.J. Wright ’14MSM, ’17DMA felt this spring when his Easter Vigil-themed sequence of five jazz oratorios, Drama and Devotion, premiered inside a landmark 16th century church in Rome.
John Kohne dropped out of Notre Dame late in the autumn of 1969, twelve credits shy of his chemical engineering degree. He traveled home to La Porte, Indiana, realizing as he walked in the door that he'd made a life-changing mistake.
Notre Dame’s parting gift to the Class of 2017 was a master class in civil discourse and civil disobedience, and the options available to well-educated men and women in a multicultural democracy.
Maybe boredom explains why we’re not paying attention to what’s happening right now with Social Security and Medicare, the subject of a lunch-hour presentation that accountancy professor Jeff Burks ’97 made on campus a few weeks ago. If so, it appears our indifference will cost us.
Before moving into his rental house in Seattle last year, Ben Wooley felt he needed to give his future housemates a warning. “Just so you know,” he told them, “I have a lot of instruments, and not all of them are going to fit in my room.”
Revolutions begin with the quiet decision and the small act. So picture this scene of would-be rebellion.
In 1720, Johann Sebastian Bach, 35 years old and still making a name for himself, still ascending to the heights of his powers as a composer, paid a visit to one of his heroes.
Try to pin Greg Bahnsen down and you may need to wait a while. When he isn’t casting metal and fashioning it into pipes at Paul Fritts’ organ workshop, he’s often thousands of feet up in the air.
A new organ adds another jewel to the Sacred Music program.
A long time ago in a research and development laboratory far, far away, Raphi Giangiulio made a little piece of cinematic history.
One day about halfway through his work as the main carpenter on the Notre Dame organ, Andreas Schonger wiped out while training for a mountain bike race and broke his collarbone. The accident was bad enough that firefighters had to carry him out of the forest.
Bone up on your organ knowledge; impress your friends.
Joe Green is a boat builder by trade. It’s inherently nomadic work that has taken him far away from home, building everything from historic fishing-boat replicas to rowing shells to the 42-foot motorsailers of the rich and famous — but there was always something missing. So now he builds organs for a living.
He was 20. How was it that no one was looking over his shoulder when he was drilling and burning holes in expensive oak that took hours to mark, for an instrument meant to outlive him by centuries?
When he was ready to start high school in 1993, his family moved across Puget Sound from Tacoma to a tiny logging town called Shelton. It sure didn’t feel like it at the time, but for McLeod, now 37, teenage exile would turn out to be one of the best career moves of his life.
Whether art, artifact or architecture, Jack Simmerling ’57 spent his life creating and capturing the beauty he saw around him.
It’s here. It took ten years of planning, nail-biting and hopeful angst at Notre Dame; three-and-a-half years of designing, pipe casting and precision carpentry at the Paul Fritts workshop in Tacoma, Washington; and a cross-country journey of some 2,100 miles spanning three time zones and the Continental Divide. Now, at last, the Murdy Family Organ has reached its permanent home inside the Basilica of the Sacred Heart.
Sometime earlier this year when we were planning our Fun issue, editor Kerry Temple ’74 smiled and said “Clowns.” But how do you find a real, live clown among the 150,000-plus alumni in the Notre Dame family?
As summer travel plans go, you could hardly beat the itinerary laid out before the Notre Dame Folk Choir this year. Just don’t call them tourists.
A 16th century book — and a tall tale worthy of a Mississippi riverboat — go under the microscope.
Andrew McShane rounded the corner in front of the altar of the Basilica of the Sacred Heart and sized up the cacophony in the choir loft: Drills wheezing. Socket wrenches clicking. Wisecracks flying. Workmen calling down from vanishing tiers of organ pipes that still rose three and four stories above the church floor.
If New England cows can jump start Haiti’s energy future, an enlightening couple will make the connection.
The sendoff was uneventful, with no announcement or fanfare. The music would speak for itself.