A Fair Celebration for Fair Harvard

Stadium Celebration Directed by Tommy Walker Starring a Cast of Thousands At the Stadium through last night

STRIPPED OF football players and yard markings, the Stadium took on a Colosseum-like atmosphere last night for what was billed as the biggest celebration of Harvard in at least 50 years.

Taken on its own, the stadium celebration could be considered a success. In the wake of all the hype surrounding the finale to Harvard's four-day birthday party, the gala inevitably did not live up to the heightened expectations surrounding it.

Which is not to say that the stadium celebration was a complete letdown. For the most part, the gallery of stars, undergraduates and Cambridge youths, provided as entertaining an evening as could likely be expected from the oldest institution of higher education in this country.

Walter Cronkite told the audience the way it was, from 1636 to 1986; actor John Lithgow '67 recited an address Harvard's own Ralph Waldo Emerson (Class of 1821); George Plimpton '48 told of students, their times at Harvard, and of how they got thrown out of the College; and John Williams and the Boston Pops paid tribute to fellow musician Leonard Bernstein '39.

BUT WHEN Tommy Walker, the man who played central roles at the Los Angeles Olympics Celebration and the Statue of Liberty salute, is billed as the producer, people tend to expect a show that will knock their socks off--or at least send them flying off their commemorative seat cushions.

The fireworks celebration which capped off the evening was a weak sister to the extravaganza Walker put on last July. Though loud, the short and dazzling pyrotechnic display elicited few of the "oohs and aaahs" that customarily accompany such celebrations.

The best fireworks were saved for two special effects. At the end of all the singing and dancing, a scoreboard-sized Harvard 350th shield "blew up" into light, as fireworks exploded off a dark screen illuminating the logo.

Equally, and perhaps more impressive, was the effect during the "Harvard signers of the Declaration of Independence" segment. After actors portrayed seven alum signatories, a lighted hand with a pen "wrote" a huger-than-life John Hancock across center-stage in more fireworks.

PARTS of the show provided Harvard cheesiness to go with the Harvard wine that has been fermented specially for this celebration. But there were also touching performances by undergraduate groups, which were out in full force last night.

Citystep utilized the talents of the Cambridge school children to perform a dance routine that spanned the entire field. Never mind that it looked like a 100-yard long Richard Simmons show. For when the performers all threw off their color-coordinated sweatshirts, they recreated the image of graduates tossing their mortarboards into the air upon Commencement.

The Band, the Hasty Pudding, Collegium, and the Radcliffe Choral Society were all in attendance, and in performance as well. The Band offered one of the more entertaining exhibitions of the evening when it recreated the Boston Tea Party on the field.

According to their rendition, Harvard undergraduates threw all the tea into the harbor when the drinking age was raised to 21. The British responded by building the Red Line, the version claimed. Simultaneously, the band changed formations from a cup of tea to the "T" insignia of the subway system.

THE SHOW also attempted to tell the history of the United States as it related to Harvard (and vice-versa) from the College's inception in 1636. Yet it seems, from the show's chronology, that nothing much happened between 1776 and Harvard's 250th birthday in 1886 except for the one Emerson selection that Lithgow read.

Another sad note on the evening was the entire audience's lack of familiarity with the words to "Fair Harvard." The audience struggled to follow the words, which were conveniently broadcast on the two mammoth video screens at either side of the stage.

During most of the show, these screens were the focus of the crowd's attention, as the performers on stage appeared only slightly larger than ants. But during the "Fair Harvard" broadcast, the words were obscured by fountains, which sprayed water high in the air, blocking the audience's view.

For those who expected a Statue of Liberty redux, the glitz was disappointing. But for those who worried that the show would be too glitzy, the show was perfectly dignified. Dignified even enough for an educational institution more than one-third of a millenium old.