"And so, class, that brings us to what I'm sure you've all been waiting for: midterms!" Professor "call me Curtis" Barnes may have been enjoying himself a bit too much. "To wrap up our unit on oil painting, you'll be painting a 2-by-3 oil on canvas. But I'm sure you all know by now that it's never that simple in my class, so here's the catch: it's a group assignment!"
Um, what? I exchanged bewildered glances with my classmates. Curtis raised a hand to quell the confused murmurs. "Now, now, let me explain. I've assigned you all into groups of three. You'll each be painting your own canvas, but your group's paintings together should form a cohesive collection that tells a story. Which story is entirely up to you, copyright laws notwithstanding; choose your favorite fairy tale, perhaps, or a myth from an ancient culture. Norse, Greek, Egyptian, Native American...whatever inspires you."
Okay, this was sounding more doable. I knew a lot of old Irish folktales from my grandmother's stories, I could make this work. Getting assigned teams was less than ideal, but no one in the class was grossly incompetent, from what I'd seen, so it would probably be fine.
"Oh, one more thing," Curtis said, looking innocent. We all groaned. "The final rule is this: you must portray your groupmates as the characters in your story, so that each artist is represented in at least one of the other artists' work." That...complicated things a bit, but maybe it could still be all right, depending on my group composition.
"Maybe an example will help you all understand this better," Curtis said, and wheeled an easel out of the corner. Draped with a sheet, only the vague outlines of three conspicuously 2x3 canvas-shaped objects could be seen. "I'm sure most of you are familiar with the tragedy of Persephone from Greek mythology." He pulled the sheet back to reveal the first image.
"Hades, god of the underworld, dragged the young goddess Persephone to his dreary realm to be his unwilling bride," Curtis narrated. The painting was gorgeously rendered, of a verdant woodland bursting with life, and a pretty teenage girl dominated the center. Her face was twisted with terror, though, as a dark chasm had opened before her. A man, tall and imposing in black armor, had seized her wrist and was pulling her into the pit with him.
Curtis uncovered the next image, which displayed the same woodland scene, no less skillfully portrayed. Only, now it was wilted and barren, the trees and undergrowth shriveled and lifeless. A woman knelt in the dead grass. She would have been a mature beauty, but her face was wracked with fury and grief, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Persephone's mother, Demeter, goddess of the harvest and all the bounty of the earth, laid a curse upon the land in her rage: nothing would grow, no grain nor fruit would ripen again until her daughter was returned to her."
We watched, spellbound by the tale and the heartbreakingly realized image of a terrified girl and a mother bereft, as Curtis revealed the final scene and continued his narration. "Zeus, the lord of Olympus, feared mass starvation and stepped in to enforce Persephone's release, but too late. Persephone was reunited with her mother, but she had eaten the food of the Underworld while there, and was forever doomed to return for part of every year." The third painting was once again the woodland scene, now budding with new life. In the foreground, the mother and daughter from the first two scenes ran into each other's arms, joy on their faces and the green of fresh growth blooming out around their feet. In the background, though, loomed a dark cave, its depths utterly black, like a hungry maw lurking behind the pair.
The professor let us all bask in the beauty and tragedy on display for a moment before he spoke again. "Needless to say, this group got very good grades on their midterm project. You can see how the three of them were each portrayed as characters in the tale; the student playing Demeter painted this first one with Persephone and Hades, and Hades painted the third scene showing the other two. You get the idea. Of course, they took some liberties with age for Persephone and Demeter, so don't worry about little things like that."
Just when we thought he was finished with us, Curtis dropped one last bomb. "And I should probably mention that your collections will be presented to the class a week from Friday, so get cracking if you don't want your paint dripping onto the floor while you show us what you've created." A week and a half? That was barely enough time for oil paint to dry, much less begin properly curing; and that was on top of the time required for the actual painting process. Suddenly this whole project became a lot more urgent.
As the class was having a collective panic attack, Curtis turned on the classroom's projector and displayed a list of names, grouped by threes. "Here are your group assignments," he announced, then pointed at a stack of blank canvases near the door. "Find your partners and grab a canvas on your way out. Class dismissed."
A few hours later, I found myself seated in a campus coffeeshop across from my new teammates. Troy was tall and well-built, with the square-jawed good looks and chiseled physique of an action hero. All he needed was a few masculine dirt smears--and maybe a handgun--to fit perfectly on a gritty movie poster. Beside him lounged Sebastian, fair where Troy was dark and lithe where Troy was brawny. He had the effortless grace of the dancer he was, all slender limbs and lean muscle.
"So," drawled Sebastian, "anybody have any ideas for what tale we should tell? We need to get started like right now if we're going to have a chance to finish in time."
"My grandmother used to tell stories of old Irish legends and folktales when I was a kid," I offered. "Maybe something from there will work?"
"A possibility for sure, Connor," Sebastian said, though he didn't sound especially convinced. "You have any suggestions, Troy?"
"Not a clue," said the big man. "I don't know anything about mythology."
"Wait, that's it!" exclaimed Sebastian. "Troy!"
Troy looked as confused as I felt. "What?" he asked. "I just said I've got no idea."
"Not you, the other Troy!" Sebastian enthused. "I've got the perfect plan for this project!" He rubbed his hands together in maniacal glee. "This is gonna be AWESOME!"
*
I stood nervously beside Troy and Sebastian as Curtis came up to examine our project. As he had done before, we'd set them out on a broad easel and covered them to facilitate the "dramatic reveal," as Sebastian insisted we call it.
"All right, gentlemen," Curtis said. "What have you got for me?"
