Tagged: joseph wakelee-lynch

UMag inbox: Lots of pictures

swatcoverA couple of terrific covers in my inbox. The first is from Swarthmore, a photo of Jackie Morgen, founder of the Swat Circus at the college, by Laurence Kesterson. The “cover story” is about seven inches in the front of the book, which strikes me as odd. I’m still not quite on board with the thinking that the cover story need not be a feature. But the counter-argument is that your cover works if it gets people to pick up and open the magazine, and this one works in that regard. (Sherri Kimmel edits the magazine.)

tuftscoverThe second cover, which I really love, comes courtesy of Tufts. For those of you who can’t place the school, Tufts is in Boston. In the wake of the bombing of this year’s Boston Marathon, editor David Brittan ran a tribute to Tufts marathoners, including former student Bobbi Gibb, who in 1966 defied a ban on female runners in the marathon, snuck into the field disguised as a man, and as far as anyone knows became the first woman to complete the race, running the 26.2 miles in 3:21. Photographer Kathleen Dooher was assigned the job of creating a striking cover image of a Gibb, and man oh man did she succeed.

Dartmouth Medicine has updated its design package. Editor is Amos Esty; design by Bates Creative. Below are covers from before and after. (Click on all of these if you want to see them honkin’ big.)

dmcover1   dmcover2

 

ricecoverWhile we’re asking various magazines “have you done something different with your hair?” I have to note a redesign I love, at Rice. It was executed by the magazine’s newish (as of November 2012) art director Erick Delgado. I’d point you to an electronic version or PDF edition so you could admire more of it, but the magazine does not seem to be online. Lynn Gosnell edits.

vettatsFinally, LMU out of Loyola Marymount has a great six-page spread on memorial tattoos. Written by editor Joseph Wakelee-Lynch, “Ink Tank” describes and samples the Memorial Ink project by Andrew Ranson. Ranson finds veterans who bear tattoos that memorialize comrades who were killed in action, then interviews them and photographs their memorials. The magazine’s website has created a gallery of the Jon Rou photos that accompanied the story.

Eight questions for Joseph Wakelee-Lynch

Joseph Wakelee-Lynch edits LMU, the graphically striking magazine at Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles. And if you ask him politely, he’ll answer as many as eight questions.

How long have you been in your job?

I began working as editor at LMU in January 2006.

What has proven to be the most significant thing you had to learn to do that job?

My sister is a nun, and two of my aunts made the same choice with their lives. (In fact, a friend once introduced me this way: “This is my friend, Joe. He comes from a long line of nuns.”) So I can’t help caring about the religious ground on which LMU stands. Understanding how LMU is shaped by the mission of academic rigor and service to others of the three sponsoring religious orders of the university—the Jesuits, the nuns of the Religious of the Sacred Heart of Mary, and the Sisters of St. Joseph of Orange—really has been the most significant thing I’ve had to learn.

What has been your best experience at the magazine?

I was once a drummer in a rock band. The best part was not performing but the experience of playing with the other musicians. At LMU Magazine, the creative process involving Maureen Pacino, creative director, Jon Rou, photographer, and Kelly Fite, graphic designer, energizes me and sparks my most creative ideas. (I’m not their supervisor; we’re peers.) Working in that creative cauldron is the most satisfying part of my job.

What has proven to be your biggest frustration?

I’m not satisfied with the editorial strength of the magazine, in print and online. One big reason is the difficulty in giving the conceptualization stage the attention it deserves. Conceptualization is a process, but it’s intangible. The tangible things that must be done, however, resemble your dog that won’t stop barking till he’s fed. So your dog—which you love and, after all, are responsible for—gets fed. But to do it you spend conceptualization time, which, like money, is a limited resource. I suppose it all comes down to the many limits that restrict conceptualization.

What part of your magazine never quite satisfies you, despite everybody’s best effort?

The front of the magazine, which includes news stories. Those stories need to be framed creatively, just as features do. But because they are event-driven, they come into the process in later editorial stages, when many pressures seem to constrict the attention that we can give them.

What story are you proudest to have published?

In July 2010, we published a feature called “No One Left Behind,” about the university president’s decision in 1950 to refuse to play an away football game because the host university required Loyola to keep its African American players off the field. Most of the team’s players had passed away [by 2010], but with a lot of digging and the help of LMU’s database manager, we found enough alumni who could share their memories. The story appeared in our redesign’s launch issue and illustrated why a commitment to justice is important in education institutions as well as in individuals.

If you could commission a story from any writer in the world, who would it be?

Because I haven’t figured out how to reach Flannery O’Connor, Shusaku Endo, and Heinrich Böll, I’d invite Dennis Covington. A former New York Times reporter, he wrote “Salvation on Sand Mountain: Snake-Handling and Redemption in Southern Appalachia” in 1995. Covington sojourned into the religious backwoods of snake-handling Christians, who believe, based on Mark 16:18, that handling venomous serpents is proof of their faith. The book also becomes a diary of Covington’s journey into his own family history in Appalachia. I’d ask him to take a pilgrimage through Southern Catholicism and send me his journal.

If you weren’t an editor, what would your dream job be?

I’d be interviewing writers as host of a radio interview show. I did that for four years in the ’90s as a volunteer for a college radio station. One of the most satisfying compliments ever paid to me was from a guest who, near the end of our interview, said, “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”