The Portrait of Hanna Gray-Peep and the Infamous Prank of the Century

Yesterday I decided to check out this year’s submissions to the U of C’s peeps diorama contest. When I tried to find them, I could only find the original call for entries, which stated that the deadline had been extended to April 10. I’d noted (with interest) the contest a few months ago, but was refusing to participate again due to the sting of failure from 2009. Back then, I spent an inordinate amount of time thinking and planning for the contest (which I then lost). It consumed me for weeks—my mood and approach to my 2009 dioramas could best be described as “nostalgic and warm-hearted”. When I saw that the deadline had been extended and that I had a full 24 hours to make it, I decided to brush off my pride and embrace the excitement of a new diorama! (Apparently, what I really want to be when I grow up is a peeps diorama maker)

I brainstormed “nostalgic and warm-hearted” ideas for a while, but then my mood became “irreverent” and I thought of the perfect diorama scene. It’s a bit meaningless for people who aren’t alums, but the story is thus: There’s a huge eating hall on campus. In this hall hang the portraits of all of the past university presidents. There are only two women. One of the women, Dr. Hanna Gray, has a portrait that is lighter in color and not as solemn as the others. It also depicts her with disproportionately large hands. This portrait is hated by many because it sort of sticks out among the darker tones of the hall. It is also considered the ultimate prank to steal the portrait (and return it, of course). Check out Gray’s Wikipedia page and its mention of the prank.

And that is what I show in my 2011 diorama: The Portrait of Hanna Gray-Peep and the Infamous Prank of the Century.