Charles Gabeler

My brother and friend visited 215 Willoughby Avenue around 1974.
They got real excited visiting Pratt and this is one of my favorite memories.

Susan Woodland

I transferred to Pratt to study Fashion Design after 2 years in Pittsburgh.  Early in my first semester at Pratt a wonderful professor whose name is long gone from my memory, someone who had long experience in the garment center but had never taught before, asked me, “what have you done in terms of culture this week?”  I said, “well I’m busy with classes and I’m all the way out here in Brooklyn”.  She said, “You’re in New York!  You have to do something every week - go to a film or a show; go see the new windows in the department stores; go to the ballet on a big opening night and see what people are wearing.  But do something every week.”  I have never stopped remembering why I came to NY in the first place, and I continue to do something cultural every week.  And I still love living in New York.  17 years after my graduation I returned to Pratt for a career change, and celebrated the 20th anniversary of my BFA with a Masters degree from Pratt in Library Science.  I’ve been working as an archivist ever since.

Andrew Allen

I met Dr. Vishniac in 1984 at Pratt Institute in Brooklyn. I was one of his graduate students in photography. His book “A Vanishing World” had just been published after so many years since they were taken. Professor Vishniac, well into his nineties by then was still delightfully energized when it came to learning and discovery. He was then fascinated with his passion for micro photography and photographing the world through a microscope. His colorful images of fungi looked as if they should be in a Carl Sagan book of the Universe. Professor Vishniac gleefully described his approach with doe-eyed students and encouraged them to continually strive for the unexpected. I got the impression from him that he viewed life through a lens, either telescopically or microscopically. He moved freely through both worlds. - A. Allen

Donald Sclare

Sibyl Moholy-Nagy

Sibyl’s slide show lectures made the earliest signs of building as relevant to our design work as her stories of her intimates at the Bauhaus.

Sybil’s shout-out to Reggie (her assistant) “Next” plus the sound of her hand-held clicker, also indicating the next slide.

Her wonderful voice and accent brought all of architectural history into the Pratt Lecture Hall.  I can still hear her voice and see her marching through the PI shop on the way to the staff lunchroom.

Peter Barna

I took two courses with John Pile — Design Concepts, and History of Industrial Design.

What I remember most was his incredibly wry wit. History classes can sometimes be dry, but he delivered the information in a low-key, humorous way.

As students, I remember we would invite Professor Pile to get together with a group of us and talk about current trends and topics and get his perspective on where things in the field were headed. I remember one such session, when Postmodernism was just coming onto the scene and we wanted to talk to him about where he saw it fit in. John Pile’s knowledge of interior design was encyclopedic, but he never tried to be a philosopher. He allowed for different perspectives.

As a designer, the lesson he taught that stays with me is that the objects we design are reflections of our present culture. The things we need reflect a set of values. This is something I remind myself of when I am working on a project for a client.

When John Pile received the Distinguished Teacher award in 1998—in keeping with his dry wit—he simply listed all the presidents and provosts and deans he had worked with at Pratt. On the one hand, it was hilarious: There were so many names. But it also made me realize what a pillar he was of Pratt. He was here through all this change and transformation, and the whole time he was here teaching, doing what he does.

Michael Lopez

The staircase to the 5th floor graduate architecture studio, a flurry of activity.

Arleen Levine

My Pratt memory took place in Jefferson New Hampshire, the site of my Pratt off campus graduate program - a masters degree in Art Therapy.  The campus was
lawns and mountains and the classes were held in a rambling old homestead which housed the students as well.  We were being taught all day and evening, with time out to see the Northern Lights at night, and to watch the small town Fourth of July Parade (there were cows in it).  Art Robbins, the program’s director and creator, was a vigorous and inventive teacher, and I loved the program.

Lucia DeRespinis

Eva Zeisel taught me that how an object feels is as important as how it looks. Industrial design isn’t just what you see: It’s what you feel. She always said: “Take the time to think about how your other senses are involved with your design.” Eva Zeisel’s genius really was that her thoughts and her hands worked so well together.

Eva also taught us to be patient and to understand that industrial design is about making beautiful things that will be duplicated and used.

I remember that she would spend much time touching and looking at each individual student’s work and analyzing it from her point of view, which was that each design should speak to you in a certain way. She was very good at working with students.

I also remember that Eva and another student, Tom Baroth, would speak Hungarian in class and on occasion, laugh. We all wanted to be let in on the joke, but it usually didn’t translate very well.

I still have the teapot that I designed in her class. It was supposed to be for a restaurant, but when I designed it I forgot that one could pour with either hand. So it wasn’t completely successful. I have since gone on to design much restaurant tableware, and have never forgotten that pieces must be designed for use by people who are either right or left handed.