Say Yes with Abstract Artist and CofC alum Brian Rutenberg

In this episode we talk to Brian Rutenberg,  College of Charleston alumnus and one of the great American painters of the past 30 years. 

"My entire experience here at the College of Charleston can be summarized in a single word. The word is yes. For the entire four years I was here 1983 to 1987. I never heard the word no, not even once. The answer to my every question was yes. And that made all the difference."

On this episode of Speaking Of…College of Charleston podcast, we talk to Brian Rutenberg ’87, College of Charleston alumnus and one of the great American painters of the past 30 years. CofC is a home away from home for Rutenberg who is one of 5 family members that attended the College, including his son and daughter who are currently enrolled in the Honors College. He has stayed actively engaged with the College over the years and generously donated his painting “Sandspur” (2017, 62x80 in., oil on linen), which will be hung in the recently renovated Simons Center for the Arts. Rutenberg grew up in Myrtle Beach, SC and lives and works in New York City.

“Myrtle Beach, as you all know, is a resort town full of spastic neon blinking lights and arcades and amusement parks, surrounded by some of the most ravishing landscapes on the East Coast. And I paid attention,” says Rutenberg.  “So, what I saw was miraculous, I saw two landscapes, one artificial and one natural, colliding head on at 200 miles an hour right in front of my eyes, and colliding so violently, that they seem to fuse into a third thing. And that elusive third thing has been the subject matter of my work for four decades. It’s a pulsating energy. It’s a visual propulsion that I couldn't articulate, but even as a kid back then knew that I had to do something with it, so that's what sort of set the tone for me to become a visual artist.”

Rutenberg is nothing if not generous with his time and sharing lessons he’s learned with the next generation of art students. “I feel like if I can do anything, to be of service to younger artists, or less experienced artists, then I feel like it makes me a better painter. (…) Working as an artist can be isolating so the reason I make the videos is to remind artists around the world that they are not alone. (…) By doing this, I hope to bring people into my studio, and not just show them technical stuff, which can be as boring as Novocain in a dental chair, I try to show them what an artist’s life is like. I talk a little philosophy, a little personal anecdote, and then I mix some technical and art historical references in as well.”

Resources from this Episode:

Rutenberg’s first painting class at the College was William Halsey’s last before retiring. He credits Halsey as one of his major influences.
https://vimeo.com/280620313

To learn more about Rutenberg’s time at the College and his artistic process:
https://today.cofc.edu/2016/01/20/southern-landscape-painter-rutenberg/

A Father figure to Rutenberg, professor and artist, Michael Tyzack

MFA at SVA

A few of Rutenberg’s favorite quotes:

“If you can't explain it simply, you don't understand it well enough.” – Albert Einstein 

“Don’t think. Thinking is the enemy of creativity. It’s self-conscious, and anything self-conscious is lousy. You can’t try to do things. You simply must do things.”— Ray Bradbury

“The essence of all beautiful art, all great art, is gratitude. ”― Friedrich Nietzsche

Transcript

Nick: 0:15

Hello, and Welcome to Speaking of College of Charleston. I'm your host, Nick plasmodia, associate director of marketing and academic programs in the Honors College. And I am beyond thrilled to welcome to our studio today, Brian Rutenberg, College of Charleston alumnus and one of the great American painters of the past 30 years. Brian, welcome. Thank you so much for joining us. Now, you have described your four years at the College of Charleston as life changing both as a person and an artist and I suspect a lot of our listeners are going to want to hear why that is. But before we delve into your time, as a student, I think it would be helpful to give a bit of context to your artistic journey. So why don't we briefly go back to the beginning to your time growing up in Myrtle Beach? Where does art first make an appearance in your life? When did it first grab ahold of you?

Brian Rutenberg: 1:16

Well, thank you, Nick, for having me. It's a pleasure to be here. My entire experience here at the College of Charleston can be summarized in a single word. The word is yes. For the entire four years I was here 1983 to 1987. I never heard the word no, not even once. The answer to my every question was yes. And that made all the difference. I think when you remind a young person that anything is possible on a daily basis, he or she graduates believing that everything is possible. And I've created a for 40 year career on that basic permission slip. But my journey to the College of Charleston, begins 100 miles north of where we're sitting in our nation's 51st state Myrtle Beach, where I grew up with absolutely no exposure to the Fine Arts whatsoever. The first artist I ever met was me. My art education began in shape and memorial public library, where a few times a month my mom would drop me off after school. And I would systematically consume the fairly small art history section, one volume at a time. And I remember it was the seven hundreds in the Dewey Decimal System. And now that I look back four decades later on those library experiences, I realized that the value in reading those books light lied, not in what I understood, but rather in what I misunderstood. And what I mean by that is when the transfer of information from book to brain is not entirely accurate, something really interesting happens. I was 13 years old reading about synthetic cubism, and I didn't have the brain bandwidth to be able to comprehend what I was reading. So I would grow bored. And as I read, my mind would drift off into all these tangents and I would start to fill in the blanks myself, I would start to make up stuff. And, and there's something about when you when you make stuff up for yourself, you begin to think for yourself, you begin to think creatively. And thinking creatively is not advisable if you're if you're an air traffic controller, or a pulmonologist, but for an artist, it is our job description. So by the time I turned 14, I realized that I could do two things. Well, I could pick up a ham radio in my braces, and I could pay attention. And Myrtle Beach, as you all know, is a resort town full of spastic neon blinking lights and arcades and amusement parks, surrounded by some of the most ravishing landscapes on the East Coast. And I paid attention. So what I saw was miraculous, I saw two landscapes, one artificial and one natural, colliding head on at 200 miles an hour right in front of my eyes, and colliding so violently, that they seem to fuse into a third thing. And that elusive third thing has been the subject matter of my work for four decades. It's a it's a pulsating energy. It's a visual propulsion that I couldn't articulate, but even as a kid back then knew that I had to do something with so that's what sort of set the tone for me to become a visual artist. Two of my favorite things in the world besides painting are BBQ and magic, both of which can be found in the carnivals and state fairs of my southern upbringing. And I developed an early interest in and respect for the local artists who painted carnival banners for their design acumen, their clarity of intention, and their purposeful execution. And I found by copying those banners in my bedroom on poster Paper and designing carnival banners of my own, I realized how to compose visual information. And I learned that if you if you want to impinge on the consciousness of the viewer, even for a second, you have to do so with a composition that looks good from 20 feet away. So from those banners, I learned how to place large masses have middle valued colors at the edges of the composition, and then gradually wind my way into more saturated colors and higher contrast toward the focal point of the image. So with the banners, whether it was for the tenant one show, or the pie eating contest, or the human cannonball, each banner was a concise visual description, not of what will happen, but of what could happen. And that is, that's the secret knowledge that I've been waiting for. The idea that an eye not told what to see, sees more. So my beautiful and ever supportive parents got me the name and address of one of the local artists who painted the banners from Conway, which is just outside of Myrtle Beach. And like I always do if I'm interested in someone, I wrote him a fan letter and asked for his autograph. And a few weeks later, the response arrived in the mail. I opened up the letter and it said, Dear Brian, thank you so much for your kind letter. Unfortunately, I never give out my autograph that sincerely and it was signed. So whenever I take myself too seriously, I remember that letter. Excellent.

Nick: 6:28

So it sounds like you are coming to the College of Charleston with this blend of self taught self experimentation. And this deep rooted sense of place coming from growing up in one of the most unique places in America, if not the world. So then what happens when you get here bringing these unique background experiences, coming to another rather unique place and starting to study hard? What clicks.

Brian Rutenberg: 7:01

I, as far back as I can remember, my family's had a love affair with Charleston. And a few times a year, my parents would drive my two younger brothers John and Michael, who are both CFC graduates, and me down to Charleston for an overnight and you'll know the feeling as soon as you cross the Cooper River Bridge and you make that left turn on meeting Street. It's something takes hold. There was that innate sense of history, a very complex history, there was aesthetic architectural beauty. And there was a sense of urbanism that we did not find in Myrtle Beach, it felt like a real city to us. And it was not nearly as Tony as it is. Now I can remember when Charleston place was an empty lot full of abandoned cars surrounded by razor wire. But, but when it came time to apply for college, I applied to several universities around the country, but I only wanted one and it was the College of Charleston. I got in and Charleston is an art city and the school of the arts on campus here is a jewel in this art city. And my first painting class ever was William Halsey is last. William Halsey along with Corey McCallum, his wife is they are considered the deans of abstraction in South Carolina. And Halsey as as you may or may not know, studied under Elizabeth O'Neil Verner, one of the leading figures in the Charleston renaissance in the 1920s and 30s. And it was Werner along with Alfred Huddy and Alice Ravenel, ug Smith, and others who became known for their depictions of daily life on the peninsula and the romanticized images of the surrounding landscape. And it was Halsey if he told me that a painting is like a circus tent. It's a couple of wooden sticks supporting a flimsy piece of canvas. So there's always the feeling of it's inevitable dismantlement. And I feel like in that lies, the central tension and all art that the job of an artist is to manufacture a state of lucidity, try to keep it around as long as possible, but always with the notion of its if loss. So Halsey if he was interested, not in the, the visual splendor of Charleston, he was interested in the idealized side of Charleston, so the crumbling stucco, the abandoned buildings, the mossy walkways to cemeteries in the back of houses. And all that informed his sort of unorthodox use of materials, he would mix marble dust with paint, he would scrape the surface with metal and they would tear the canvas up and reassemble it. And all of that, I think, underscored his commitment to process as a vehicle for intellectual discovery. So I learned a great deal from that, that very tactile approach to making a painting and then he retires in 1984. I was 18 my freshman year, and in walked a man who would change my life forever. More than an instructor more than a mentor. You He became a father figure to me all the way up till he died in 2007. And I'm talking about the British painter, Michael Ty's, AK. He recognized my atomic work ethic very early. And he printed me a master key to the entire school of the arts. So I could come and go 24 hours a day, which I did. And one of the great advantages of the faculty at the School of the Arts was that they encouraged me to cross pollinate among the multiple departments under the banner of the arts. So I designed and built a stage set for the Robert IV ballet, I played percussion in an early music concert, I glued plastic jewelry to costumes in the theater department, I worked in the Halsey gallery hanging shows, which is the first iteration of the Halsey Institute of Contemporary Art. And I painted in my studio. Some of those things I was good at, and others pure suck. But it didn't matter. Because a great faculty like the one I had here at the College of Charleston, knows when to instruct, but they also know when not to, which allows a student to take risks. And in that is where I learned how to be the most like myself. So I always felt like they had my back so that I could fail, but fail spectacularly. And I think I think success is too often confused with popularity, we can never be popular enough. true success is curiosity and effort. So the question to ask yourself as a young artist, or a young student in any discipline on campus, is not Am I good? But rather will I continue, you must continue day after day after day. Because I've learned that time, not the marketplace determines quality.

Nick: 11:43

So it sounds like very clearly the people that you met, that you worked with that mentored you, in your time here at the college played an incredibly formative part in your artistic development. I'm curious if that is also true of place, we've talked a little bit about place, you have mentioned that it is integral to your work. Are there certain places on campus that are anchored in your memory as your place or your places in your time at the college, I would say

Brian Rutenberg: 12:19

the way that I identify or describe myself and have for 45 years is a southern painter who lives and works in New York City. So the notion of place is forms my entire identity. And as a southern born painter, the notion of place is nothing new. It's that because it remains somewhat separate from the western expansion of the United States in the 19th century, the South was perceived as exotic and isolated and complex. And I think there's that notion of otherness about it. That I believe is a promulgates so many songwriters and authors and poets and painters, because of that sense of, of, not outsider, but otherness. So, what I love about here on campus, but also the surrounding areas like Palmetto State Park is a big place for was a big end is a big place for me, I still draw trees there to this day. And there's something about in that wild setting, the feeling that everything there is designed to kill me, the savage heat, the humidity, the fire ants, the sand spurs, the snakes all of it. So there's something about the notion of opposition, that makes one want to feel as if you're just going to fall to your knees and, and give up. And I've always said that an artist is born the moment that he or she gives up. Because if you're trying to make art with a capital A, it will always end up looking like someone else's. So it's very important to to find some conduit or some tether to a place in my case. And I draw from that well, over and over again. And it's funny because I live 666 miles north of here in Manhattan. And I find that I can access the sensory power, the propulsion of this place by not seeing it. So it's not about representation. It's about possessing something and I find that I can do it better if I turn my back to it in a way.

Nick: 14:32

While we're talking about place, I want to bring up a specific place on campus and that is the Simmons Center for the Arts. And the reason I bring that up is that it's actually being renovated it's going to reopen next year, it's going to be a state of the art artistic space, very top notch, but I bring it up because you are graciously donating a 2017 piece called sand spur that will be featured in the new building. And so I wonder what is it like or what will it Be like seeing your artwork featured in one of your old haunts, what would the freshman version of Brian Rutenberg think, seeing that,

Brian Rutenberg: 15:10

in a million years, I could have never anticipated or predicted or feel like this was possible. But I am living proof that is possible. It's a deep honor for me to, to have to be able to provide some sort of tangible proof that that when a kid now a student stands in front of an hour in the future, that they can say, I can do this, because I did it. So that that's meaningful to me.

Nick: 15:41

Just speaking of freshman year, Brian, if you could send a bottled message back to that version of yourself, who's first starting out at the college? What are you writing? What advice are you giving to freshman year, Brian Rutenberg,

Brian Rutenberg: 15:55

I would say, in my 20s, I worried all the time about what people thought about me, and my 30s and 40s, I decided I don't care what people think about me. And now I'm in my 50s. And I realized that no one thought about me. So I would learn to not take myself too seriously early on. And I will learn how to become my own best friend and how to trust my instinct. And that that I would hope to pass on.

Nick: 16:22

Is that more or less the same advice you would share with the college students of today? I know both of your children come are currently at the college, what general advice do you give to them or just to college students who may want to pick your brain,

Brian Rutenberg: 16:35

I would say in this applies to any student in any discipline, but especially those in the arts, I would say learn how to write about your work early, and write about your work in simple concise language. I think young artists are under a lot of pressure to try to sound intellectual and erudite and use that opaque art speak language in order to not sound mediocre, to try to impress dealers and critics. And I can tell you that the opposite is true. That learning how to describe your work simply speaks to a mind that has the the patience to organize one's thoughts and put them down simply Albert Einstein said if you can't explain it simply, you don't understand it well enough. So I have served on dozens and dozens of juries and committees, and I've read every possible kind of art statement. And I can tell you that when I read something like my practice, interrogates the theoretical limitations of the body is liminal space. That just tells me that he or she wasn't hug as a child.

Nick: 17:39

There you go. Good advice I think for for all of us artists, or otherwise, I want to transition a little bit and hear about life after the college what the college set you up for. So you graduate from the College of Charleston in 1987, you move to New York, where you enroll in the MFA program at the school for visual arts. Now, this is most artists dream, right, moved to New York and make something of yourself What was that initial transition, like for you, as someone who grew up in Myrtle Beach College of Charleston, and then all of a sudden, you are in what many consider to be the epicenter of the art world as an aspiring artist. Um,

Brian Rutenberg: 18:21

so I graduated may 11 1987, and may 12, moved to New York City to attend the MFA at at SVA. And it was exhilarating and terrifying. And, but the advantage of a two year program graduate school is that you get a soft landing into whatever city that happens to be in. I knew that I wanted to be near the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which is which is still of great, great value to me. One of the things that keeps me living there, and, and I had incredible mentors and role models, which were of the caliber that I hit here at College of Charleston. I try to be kind to everybody and I find that often that elicits or, or brings me into contact with other people who are generous of spirit, a painter named Gregory Amman off a sculptor named John Romandie. All of these people were kind to me with their time and their expertise. And it allowed me to sort of have a soft landing into into that that that great, great well, the greatest city Charlson being the second and and allowed me to start, you know, a career I had multiple odd jobs. Oscar Wilde said better to have a steady income than be fascinating. And I worked you know, I painted walls and galleries I hung exhibitions, I slung ice at art world parties, and I kept my ex my expenses at a minimum, so that I would have the most time during the day to pay and you know, it took a long time. And I began showing in smaller cities, mostly down here in the south, group shows and then occasionally collector would jump on board acquire work, and then it starts to spread the reputation. And then eventually I got my, my first exhibition in New York City, which happened in 1992, in Soho at gallery called Kevin Morris. And, and that's, that's again, one of those sort of seminal moments along the way. It's a glacially slow process. But if you're, if you're, you know, nice to everybody, and you write handwritten, thank you notes to people, which I always advise. You know, it just puts you in a good mindset, to where things I think, come back to you.

Nick: 20:37

So is that shows for the moment where all of a sudden, it feels like you've made it all that work that you have put in behind the scenes trial and error? A fair amount of failure is that that moment where all of a sudden, Whoa, yeah.

Brian Rutenberg: 20:51

So that, I think the moment I felt like I made it, if one can choose such a moment, was after that 9090 Show 92 Show. And so I started to get some traction, and I started to get invited to art departments around the country. And one of one prominent institution in the northeast, I won't say which one, invited me up and the dean sat me down, and she said, Okay, Brian, would we want to have you do a slide lecture for our students, and then stick around and do some critiques for some of our advanced painting students? And we've come up with a number, it's $1,000. What do you think? And I said, I, I said, with all due respect, I can't afford that right now. And she said, No, we pay you. So I think that that was the moment I think I realized something was different.

Nick: 21:40

Would you say the path to success for a visual artist is different now? Has the internet changed the way we as a culture interact with art? Has that relationship between audience and audience changed? Or is it more or less the same trajectory that you are on,

Brian Rutenberg: 21:57

I think it's more or less the same trajectory, I would say there are more, there are a lot of advantages. Now for an artist to disseminate his or her work through social media, you can put your image up and get it around the world in seconds. Whereas in the when I was coming up, we had to do 35 millimeter slides, and, you know, typed press releases and all that stuff. So it's much more streamlined. Now, I don't know if that's necessarily better. But it's certainly more efficient and faster, you can design and build a website for very little coin nowadays. And that's a good way to get the word out about what you're doing as well. And just make sure when you write about it, do it simply.

Nick: 22:38

We offered up some advice for current students, I'm also thinking about those students who are seniors and are getting ready to graduate and they're starting to think about the next step. And so that transition from art student to full fledged artists, what are some of the challenges? And what advice might you offer up to some students who are thinking about that as their potential trajectory,

Brian Rutenberg: 23:01

I would say, keep your expectations low, and keep your expenses low enough to where you can afford to have the most time making the work. The most important thing is, is flight hours, like for a pilot, a pilot is not judged on how many exotic destinations he or she flies do. They're qualified based on how many flight hours they put in. So the important thing is to show up and do work every single day, and then destroy 98% of that work. Because when you destroy work, you you give up being precious, and the worst thing to do is to be precious, because that makes you self conscious. And as Ray Bradbury said anything self conscious is usually lousy. So it's very important to trust yourself, not take yourself too seriously. And to simply show up, and if you know if graduate school is something you're interested in, certainly having a master's degree is valuable. If you want to teach later on, I thought maybe I'd want to do that. So it made sense for me to do that. And I was fortunate enough to be able to, you know, have enough jobs and enough stability in New York City to make that work. But it's certainly not imperative. It is it is. I think every young artists should spend time there if possible. It's very expensive. And I found that even today, my studio is in a hole floor, but it's always shared with with three other painters and we've been in debt, we've been together 35 years, if that's the only way to sort of make it work fiscally is to share space, we have a separate studio with a locked door, but we split the expenses together. So team up with people who are like minded, and then try to, you know, try to navigate it, you're together. It's important.

Nick: 24:48

So not only are you engaging in collaborating with other artists, you also do a fair amount to engage with the art in the art worlds or beyond your own work. I'm thinking specifically of the wonderfully creative video A series that you put out studio visits, where you take us inside your studio, your experiences your thought process, and I would highly recommend it to our listeners, if you have not checked it out. You also have published books, you're very active on social media. So how does that type of I guess we'll call it extracurricular activity, for lack of a better term, how does that benefit you as an artist,

Brian Rutenberg: 25:22

it I, I simply do what I was taught by my teachers here called Charleston. And after that, Frederick Nietzsche said that the essence of all art is gratitude. And I feel like if I can do anything, to be of service to younger artists, or less experienced artists, then I feel like it makes me a better painter. I, the the art world, especially in a city, like New York is very, it seems like there's a lot of people and you know, pubs, and you talk about painting, it's not true, it's very isolating. And it's, you know, artists are often alone in their studios. So the reason that I make the videos is to remind artists around the world, that they are not alone. And when the payment, they're free, they're totally free of charge. The payment I get back is emails from people all over the world, reminding me that I'm not alone. So it's in a way, using technology to solve the very problem that technology creates, which is to separate us. So by doing this, I hope to bring people into my studio, and not just show them technical stuff, which is can be as boring is like Novocaine in a dental chair. I tried to show them what an artist's life is like. So I talk a little philosophy, a little personal anecdote. And then I mix some technical and art historical references in as well. The same thing for the books. They're just sort of verbal essays in a sense describing how I do what I do, and why I do what I do. And hopefully, if I can reach even one person, I feel like I've helped in some way, you

Nick: 26:55

mentioned technology. And I would be remiss if I did not get your take on what is a relatively hot topic these days, the rapid advancement in artificial intelligence. Now the art world has not been immune to the encroachment of AI. Specifically, I'm thinking of some of these AI driven image generators where you can enter a prompt and say, I can enter create a landscape of the Amalfi coast in the style of Brian Rutenberg. And this AI is going to analyze images of the Amalfi Coast, it's going to analyze images of your own work, and it's going to generate something that is seemingly an original image. But there is a whole lot of concern about originality copyright infringement, pushing creatives out of a job. But on the flip side, there's some potential for it to serve as a collaborative tool. So I have to ask, what is your overall take on AI as an artistic tool on the impact it's having on the art world in general,

Brian Rutenberg: 27:54

I would say as, as a visual artist, and I am guessing that I would speak for a lot of artists is that we fully embrace any development and technology and, and have another tool in our tackle box that we can use to expose our hearts, which essentially, the whole job is to have someone peer into your heart. It's a very personal, very intimate thing, all the arts I'm talking about. But I mean, we're early adopters, throughout history, the creative people. When the Egyptians invented paper, we made drawings when the photography was invented in Paris, I think, in the 1820s, we made images on photography, when the computer was invented, we made digital art. So artists will always be at the forefront of early adoption, and of using technology to help us express ourselves which essentially is what it is. Now the problem I have with it, is the notion that newer is better. Newer is not necessarily better, newer is just less old. I think the inventor of the 737, should not look down on the inventor of the stagecoach, they both do the same job, just in different ways. I believe as a painter, that there's a primacy of touch of the brush, laying down thin skins of pigment, to create space where there's flatness and light where there is darkness can never be replicated, that when you stand in front of a canvas, you stand about 24 inches away from the actual paint in the same spot that the painter did as he or she applied each skin of that color. So there's a real sense of there's an electric very personal, very deep, momentary empathy, that you're sharing the consciousness of someone else through the marks of the pain and AI can't touch that. So yes, I will embrace it. I won't use it. I still believe in that primacy of touch. But there's a marriage of sense and sight that happens with handmade things. And that a painting is simply the consequence of one person's activity and that's that My job.

Nick: 30:02

Final question, what is it about artistic expression that keeps you moving forward as a creative? You've been doing this for some time now? Why is art still relevant to you? Why is it still such an essential part of who you are and what you do and how you express yourself?

Brian Rutenberg: 30:22

The I think the energy source of any world class city like Charleston, or any world class institution for higher learning, like the College of Charleston, is the arts. And the reopening and renovation of the Simmons center, the School of the Arts affirms the commitment to that responsibility. The School of the Arts is not only for violinists and sculptors. It's for every single discipline on this campus. All are welcome in those doors because every major is represented. If you think of art history, Western art history, from Johto to Jesse Norman, you'll find that every single subject in the humanities at some point is referenced under the banner of art history, economics, architecture, sociology, medicine, law, athletics, astronomy, every single topic at some point, is included in the history of art. In fact, I would argue that Rembrandt's 1665 Self Portrait contains every subject on campus compressed into one image. He was the original Facebook in those self portraits. But, but that, I think that the the only the purpose of art is to remind us that life is worth living. I think that's what it boils down to. And I think when people walk in the front doors of the newly renovated School of the Arts, I think the answer will be yes, when they walk in.

Nick: 31:53

Well, Brian Rutenberg, we appreciate you saying yes to our invitation to join us today for this interview. fascinating to hear your thought a little bit about your thought process, and your just general take on the value and the importance of art. Thank you so much for sitting down today.

Unknown: 32:12

Thanks for having me. It's a pleasure.

Nick: 32:17

We thank you for listening to this episode of speaking of College of Charleston with today's guest, Brian rootin. For show notes and more episodes, visit the College of Charleston official news website, the college today at today dot c o f c.edu. You can also find episodes on all major podcast platforms. This episode was produced by Amy Stockwell from the Office of marketing and communications with recording and sound engineering by Jessie cuts from the Division of Information Technology. Thanks again for listening. Until next time,