The Memorial Wall

Jean Shepard was a trailblazer for women in country music, who rose to fame in the 1950s with her honky-tonk style and frank lyrics. She was a member of the Grand Ole Opry for 60 years and a Country Music Hall of Fame inductee. But behind her success and popularity, she also faced personal tragedies and health challenges that eventually led to her death in 2016.

Jean Shepard was born Ollie Imogene Shepard on November 21, 1933, in Pauls Valley, Oklahoma. She grew up in a poor sharecropper’s family that moved to California during the Great Depression. She developed a passion for country music at an early age, listening to the Grand Ole Opry on the radio and forming an all-female band called the Melody Ranch Girls. She was discovered by Hank Thompson, who helped her sign with Capitol Records in 1952.

Shepard’s breakthrough came in 1953, when she recorded a duet with Ferlin Husky called “A Dear John Letter”. The song was a half-spoken letter from a woman to her soldier husband, telling him that she had found another love. The song resonated with the audiences during the Korean War and became a huge hit, reaching number one on the country charts and number four on the pop charts. It was also the first post-World War II record by a female country artist to sell more than a million copies.

Shepard followed up with more hits, such as “A Satisfied Mind”, “Beautiful Lies”, and “Second Fiddle (To an Old Guitar)”. She also joined the cast of the Ozark Jubilee television show and the Grand Ole Opry in 1955. She was one of the few female stars on the Opry at the time, along with Kitty Wells and Minnie Pearl.

In 1960, Shepard married fellow Opry star Hawkshaw Hawkins, who was known for his good looks and rich baritone voice. They had a son, Don Robin, in 1961, and were expecting another one in 1963. However, their happiness was cut short when Hawkins died in a plane crash on March 5, 1963, along with Patsy Cline, Cowboy Copas, and Randy Hughes. Shepard was eight months pregnant at the time and gave birth to Harold Franklin Hawkins II on April 1.

Shepard was devastated by the loss of her husband, but she returned to work soon after giving birth. She continued to record and perform, releasing more singles and albums throughout the 1960s and 1970s. She also remarried in 1968, to musician Benny Birchfield, with whom she had two more sons, Corey and Jesse.

In later years, Shepard developed Parkinson’s disease, a degenerative disorder that affects the nervous system and causes tremors, stiffness, and difficulty with movement and balance. According to DrMirkin.com, Parkinson’s disease can also affect the heart and cause irregular heartbeats, low blood pressure, and heart failure.

Shepard struggled with her condition for several years, but she did not let it stop her from performing. She remained active on the Opry stage until 2015, when she announced her retirement after celebrating her 60th anniversary as a member. She was also honored by the Country Music Hall of Fame in 2011, becoming one of only three female solo artists to be inducted at that time.

Shepard died on September 25, 2016, at the age of 82. According to Wikipedia, she died of Parkinson’s disease at her home in Hendersonville, Tennessee. She was survived by her husband Benny Birchfield and her five children.

Jean Shepard was a pioneer for women in country music, who sang about love and life from a woman’s perspective. She influenced many other female artists who followed her footsteps, such as Loretta Lynn, Dolly Parton, Tammy Wynette, Reba McEntire, and Miranda Lambert. She was also admired for her honesty and courage in facing her personal challenges and health issues.

Shepard once said: “I’ve always tried to be honest with my fans. I think they deserve that.” She also said: “I don’t want people feeling sorry for me because I have Parkinson’s disease. I’m not going to let it get me down.”

Beverly Willis, FAIA, an American architect renowned for her commitment to elevating female design professionals, has died at the age of 95 in Branford, Conn., following complications from Parkinson’s disease. Throughout a career spanning 65 years, Willis's achievements included several notable projects and leadership positions, but her labor went beyond shaping America's built environment. Disturbed by female invisibility in architectural history, Willis also helped mold professional architecture practice in the United States by highlighting accomplishments of, and advocating for, women in the building industry.

When asked why we should talk about the role of women in the architecture profession, Willis told ARCHITECT that "cutting-edge form and large projects have a place in architecture, but I believe most women are more concerned about society as a whole. Thousands of small interventions can make our cities a better place to live, while an occasional iconic, monumental structure does not. And then on the business level, there are more women executives today than ever before. These women are in the position to commission large projects, [and] I don't believe a single-sex team will make the grade."

Born on Feb. 17, 1928, in Tulsa, Okla., Willis was one of 200 women attending the University of Southern California in 1945. Shortly after, Willis studied aeronautical engineering at Oregon State University and, in 1955, she earned a B.A. in art from the University of Hawaii. After working as an independent artist for a decade, Willis founded her own San Francisco–based architectural firm in 1966 highlighting the potential of adaptive reuse throughout her practice and completing one of her best-known designs—the San Francisco Ballet Building—in 1983. In 1971, Willis also pioneered computer programming in firms with Computerized Approach to Residential Land Analysis, aka CARLA, a software developed in-house. Today, 13 of Willis's architectural designs are in the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C., and her full archive of drawings resides in the Virginia Tech libraries.

In 2002, after 36 years of leading her eponymous firm, Willis noticed that architectural historians and textbooks often overlooked trailblazing female practitioners. "I looked back and realized that the arbiters of architecture culture had systemically overlooked some of the great women architects of my mid–20th century era," Willis told ARCHITECT in 2007. Aiming to correct this glaring omission, Willis founded the Beverly Willis Architecture Foundation, initially a database aimed at honoring the contributions of female design professionals.

"Recovering the stories of women architects is a greater gift to future generations than the singular preservation of my own legacy," Willis explained to ARCHITECT. "It's a living legacy, if you will."

Willis hoped that the foundation would emphasize why the building industry needed a multitude of perspectives to build "a better environment for everyone," she said. "If we incorporate the ideas of the many over the visions of the few, we will create, in my opinion, a much more equitable and humanistic environment for everyone. And, really, shouldn't that be the profession's larger ethical goal?"

In the years since its founding, BWAF has expanded its reach, advocating for and fostering female contributions to the built environment.

Willis also advocated for the rights of women in the building industry, penning an opinion piece with Julia Donoho, AIA, for ARCHITECT in 2018 after multiple women accused the Pritzker Prize laureate Richard Meier, FAIA member emeritus, of sexual harassment.

"I became interested in the topic of sexual misconduct when I was trying to understand why many women were dropping out of the design field within their first 10 years of practice," Willis wrote with Donoho. "These were young and talented women who had excelled in architecture school. They were also vulnerable. Recent headlines have made it clear how prevalent sexual misconduct can be when powerful men hold the keys to a person’s career and advancement. There have been too few consequences and too much looking away."

In addition to many professional accolades—Willis was elected the first female president of the California Chapter of The American Institute of Architects in 1979 and received the chapter's Lifetime Achievement Award in 2017—Willis also co-founded the National Building Museum in Washington, D.C., in 1980.

Willis is survived by her spouse, Wanda Bubrisk. Willis's work is also highlighted in Emerging Ecologies: Architecture and the Rise of Environmentalism, an exhibition on view at the Museum of Modern Art in New York.

Yacov Sharir, who blazed trails for Austin modern dance and inspired University of Texas students for decades, died from complications related to Parkinson's disease. He was 83.

“Yacov Sharir has left an indelible mark on the cultural landscape of this country and certainly in Austin," Charles Santos, director of Dallas-based Titas/Dance Unbound, said. "He guided, trained, inspired more than one generation of movement artists studying at UT to go into the world and find their own creative paths.

"He was a mentor, a friend and a guidepost for me throughout my entire career," Santos continued. "His drive, his creativity and his humanity are permanent lessons I was lucky enough to glean from Yacov. He will be missed, but not forgotten.”

Sharir is credited with helping to put the UT dance program on the national map. In 1982, he founded a key Austin troupe in residence at UT, Sharir Dance Company. The troupe was rebranded in 1997 as Sharir + Bustamante Danceworks, when Sharir shared artistic leadership with fellow dancer and dance-maker José Bustamante.

Together, they brought some of the biggest names in modern dance — Bill T. Jones, Arnie Zane, Trisha Brown, Margaret Jenkins, Bella Lewitzky, Rina Schenfeld — to the city to work with local artists before the company shut down in 2007.

Born August 22, 1940, in Casablanca, Morocco, Sharir moved to Israel in 1948 at the nation's birth. He studied sculpture and ceramics at the Bezalel Academy of Arts and Design. Sharir danced with the Batsheva Dance Company School, Stuttgart Ballet and the Ballet Theatre Contemporain in Paris. As a performer, he worked under dance legends such as Martha Graham, Jerome Robbins and José Limón.

Early on, Sharir was asked to lead classes for the Batsheva troupe.

“I don’t know why they turned to me because there were other company members who had teaching experience," Sharir later said. "I started teaching that class and have never stopped.”

Fluent in French, Hebrew and English, Sharir became a dual citizen of Israel and the United States. In 1978, he arrived in Austin to create the American Deaf Dance Company.

One day after he arrived, Sharir was invited to teach at UT. "There is a fortune in being a teacher in terms of what you give and what you get," Sharir once said. "To see the transformation in students’ lives is unbelievable. You’re not only teaching dance. You’re teaching your life experience and you’re sharing with them very precious moments. That’s a treasure.”

"Yacov changed my life," said Andrea Beckham, one of the city's leading dance-makers and teachers. "First as a student — I was a sociology major, pre-law, taking his modern dance class — then as a longtime company member of Sharir Dance Company, and later as a colleague in the department of theater and dance for almost 30 years. He mentored me and informed me of my way to move through the world of dance, of choreography, of academia and of life, as a citizen of the world."

In 1989, Sharir secured backing for a 10-year project shared with the legendary Merce Cunningham Dance Company. UT's College of Fine Arts provided the space for Cunningham’s rehearsals and, in exchange, students worked alongside artists of the first rank. This project led to three world premieres.

"Yacov Sharir was a true dance visionary," said Carol Adams, former executive director of Sharir Dance Company. "He collaborated with composers, musicians and visual artists to develop new work. This unique approach to producing and presenting dance afforded Austin audiences ongoing opportunities to see a wide variety of cutting-edge dance and performance. As a colleague, he was inspirational and nurturing, always striving for excellence on and off the stage. As a friend, he was always there for me, and I will treasure our decades of experiences and friendship."

Late in his career as a dance-maker, Sharir pioneered virtual reality, intelligent fabrics and interactive systems in performance. These experiments earned him fellowships from the Banff Centre for Arts and Creativity and the National Endowment for the Arts.

"Yacov Sharir was one of the most extraordinary faculty members I knew in my four decades at UT," said Charles Roeckle, retired deputy to the university's president. "His acclaimed accomplishments for the art of dance in the classroom, in performance and in research are a testament to his unparalleled knowledge and vision, as well as his indefatigable hard work and dedication.  But beyond what he accomplished were the personal qualities that made Yacov so special — his boundless enthusiasm and his buoyant optimism."

Sharir's wife, Pat Clubb, who retired as UT's vice president of operations in 2016, said plans for a memorial on campus are underway.

"He was very much a fighter," Clubb said. "He never gave up. He just did it. He had an enormous amount of energy. It was hard to keep up with him. In public, he was charismatic but reserved. Very genuine, gracious, very stubborn. He was determined to do the right thing."

Sharir leaves behind a daughter as well as Clubb's two sons. "We have six grandsons between us," Clubb said.

"He had a pair of phrases that came to shape my life," Beckham said, "and the lives of our shared students: 'This too shall pass,' and if that wasn’t happening, 'You will prevail.'" 

Joe Louis Dudley Sr., 86, a pioneer in the haircare industry, died Feb. 8.

As the New York Times reported, Dudley built an empire from his and his wife’s kitchen, eventually founding schools that trained generations of cosmetologists. Dudley’s business began as a family affair, he stirred the formulas in a steel drum with a large spatula while his wife, Eunice, created the labels. Their children screwed the tops on the bottles after the mixtures had cooled and set by the next morning. 

From those humble beginnings, the Dudleys took over S.B. Fuller’s business in Chicago. They had sold the company’s products while attending North Carolina A&T. The coupled moved the business to Greensboro and built a plant, which also sold Fuller products.

Dudley, like Fuller, was described as a sales evangelist and was also a man of deep Christian faith, often employing those who had been incarcerated or experienced drug problems. 

Dudley required his employees to open savings accounts and usually opened his sales meetings with repurposed popular songs or jingles. In 2009, while filming his documentary Good Hair, comedian Chris Rock journeyed to the Kernersville Dudley factory, where he learned about relaxer, a strong hair straightener.

The economics of the chemicals shocked Rock, who learned that a 7,000-pound vat of relaxer was worth around $18,000. Meanwhile, the camera panned to show the Dudley family mansion.

Dudley, named after the Black boxing legend Joe Louis, was born on May 9, 1937, in Aurora, NC, the fifth of 11 children. He stuttered as a child, which led to him being held back in the first grade; teachers called him “mentally retarded.”

His mother, Clara, encouraged her son to “prove them wrong, Joe. Prove them wrong,” a moment that drove Dudley throughout his life.

Lafayette Jones, the chairman emeritus of the American Health and Beauty Aids Institute, an association of Black manufacturers, told the Times that Dudley was “a leader among Black hair care royalty.”

In 1995, Dudley won the Horatio Alger Award, given to “leaders who have triumphed over adversity,” according to the organization. The other honorees that year were two legends in their field: music producer Quincy Jones and football coach Don Shula. 

Ahead of the recession, in 2007, a section of the Dudley haircare factory that manufactured 90% of its products, suffered a fire. Dudley’s daughter, Ursula Dudley Oglesby, a Harvard-educated attorney, helped the family reorganize the company. She became the president and chief executive of what was now called Dudley Beauty Corp. 

At the time of his death from Parkinson’s disease, Dudley was still working. Eunice has no plans to stop working either. Dudley and Eunice divorced in 2000 on amicable terms and remained business partners. 

Fernando Botero, a Colombian artist who developed a signature style painting rotund, inflated yet sensuous figures with a whimsical or satirical edge, and who branched into monumental sculptures that adorned some of the world’s most famous boulevards, died September 15th, 2023 at a hospital in Monaco. He was 91.

Mauricio Vallejo, a co-owner of the Art of the World gallery in Houston and a close friend of Mr. Botero’s, confirmed the death and said the artist had pneumonia and Parkinson’s disease.

Mr. Botero’s aesthetic — often shorthanded as Boterismo — became a major draw at contemporary art museums and decorated the Champs-Élysées in Paris, Park Avenue in New York, Madrid’s Paseo de Recoletos and other renowned thoroughfares, as well as parks and plazas from Buenos Aires to Moscow to Tokyo. His emblematic oversized figures helped turn global attention to Latin American artists in the second half of the 20th century.

With deadpan irreverence, he scoured Colombia’s bourgeois urban scenes for imagery of extravagance, pomposity and greed. Mr. Botero early in his career seized on sharp visual contrasts: Tiny snakes, parrots, flies and bananas adorn his portraits of blimpy bullfighters, bishops, prostitutes, acrobats, ballroom dancers and politicians. Men with rotund faces sport tiny mustaches; hefty ladies smoke miniature cigarettes.

His figures on the canvas and cast in bronze were often voluptuous and slyly fanciful, although he would turn later to darker themes inspired by current events, such as drug violence in Colombia and torture at the U.S.-run Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq.

Mr. Botero’s work was highly popular and could fetch millions of dollars. Critics, however, especially in the 1960s, did not always approve of his work. Some dismissed it as gimmickry or caricature. An ARTnews reviewer once belittled his enlarged figures as “fetuses begotten by Mussolini on an idiot peasant woman.”

Edward J. Sullivan, a New York University professor who specializes in Latin American contemporary art, traced such animosity to the humor and accessibility of Mr. Botero’s public art installations, which challenged an establishment that often embraced inscrutability and jealously guarded its gatekeeper role.

“My popularity has to do with the divorce between modern art, where everything is obscure, and the viewer who often feels he needs a professor to tell them whether it’s good or not,” Mr. Botero told the Los Angeles Times. “I believe a painting has to talk directly to the viewer, with composition, color and design, without a professor to explain it.”

Mr. Botero’s cheekiness showed in his paintings of Marie Antoinette sauntering through the cobble-stoned street of a Colombian town, a humongous ballet dancer en pointe at the barre, and a serious-minded cleric lying in comical repose in a park. In a self-portrait, Mr. Botero depicted himself as a painter dressed in full bullfighting regalia.

He rejected suggestions that he should move beyond the voluminous figures in his paintings and his bulbous sculptures.

Fernando Botero Angulo was born in Medellín on April 19, 1932, the second of three siblings. His father, a salesman who sometimes made his rounds on horseback, died of an apparent heart attack when Mr. Botero was 4. His mother, a seamstress, struggled to maintain the family.

An uncle enrolled Mr. Botero in a bullfighting school, where pupils practiced passes before imaginary bulls. “We were about 20 pupils in the school. After much training, one day, the professor finally said, ‘Now, we’re going to experience with a real bull.’ Nineteen left the school, me included,” Mr. Botero told the South China Morning Post.

He began sketching scenes from the bullring, finding a passion outside his Jesuit school, where priests, scandalized by an admiring essay he wrote on the Spanish artist Pablo Picasso, expelled him in 1949.

Mr. Botero graduated from a public high school, eventually moving to Bogotá, the Colombian capital, a breathtaking experience that thrust the young artist into a creative milieu — artistic and literary — far removed from provincial Medellín. When one of his paintings placed second at a national competition in 1952, he used the prize money to study art in Madrid.

He visited the Louvre in Paris and settled in Florence in 1953, delighting in Renaissance paintings. But upon returning to Colombia in 1955, Mr. Botero bombed in his efforts to sell his work.

Mr. Botero and his first wife, Gloria Zea, moved a year later to Mexico City, where Mr. Botero seized on what would become his signature style. A Botero painting from this era — depicting a mandolin with an improbably tiny sound hole that made the instrument appear out of proportion — signified the artist’s exploration of volume.

He told the South China Morning Post that he resented the tendency among some viewers to dismiss his subjects as fat. “For me, it’s an exaltation of volume and sensuality,” he said. “I’ve done the opposite of what most artists do today — I’ve given importance to volume. I’ve also given importance to subject matter and expression — poetry. I don’t want to shock people. I want to give them pleasure.”