Education: Wolfe in Waco

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Talking sleepily, the students file in. The room fills; one boy jumps to a stage, calls out, "Let's go." Stiffly at first, the class waggles fingers, wrists, arms and spines in a ragged ballet of calisthenics, then switches to vocal knee-bends: OHO, OHO; AHA, AHA; ZZZZHH, ZZZZHH ; UMPAH, UMPAH; OOOOH, OOOOH. The personage in whose honor the morning rites are performed is abrupt, autocratic, rumpled Professor Paul Baker, 47, head of Baylor University's department of dramatics. In the judgment of Actor Charles Laughton, an old friend, Baker is "crude, arrogant, irritating, nuts and a genius." He is also one of the most effective college teachers in the country.

The course that begins with the arm waving ("It gets the blood circulating; there's no point in my talking to a lot of dead brains") is called Drama 106. But Paul Baker's object is to spade up whatever creative ability a student has. By sweet reasonableness or sour harangue, he prods course-takers to write stories, paint pictures and compose music. False notes and failed paintings are unimportant in this basic course, which is required for Baylor undergraduates; all Baker wants students to do is "get acquainted with their own minds—which, incidentally, very few people do during a lifetime." The drill team quality of the calisthenics is deceptive. Says a colleague: "His respect for the individual mind is infinite. He has the uncanny ability to see some talent in just about every student, and he will do almost anything to develop it."

Anchor Prince. Baylor's furious fountainhead of theater is burningly scornful of academic mediocrity, preaches that "great teaching lies just short of prophecy." His own contribution to anticipating the future has been to establish at the Baptist school in Waco, Texas one of the most fertile experimental theaters in the U.S. In 1953 he startled Shakespeareans with an Othello that split the Moor into three abstractly made-up characters who represented separate aspects of the tormented hero's character. Three years later he persuaded Actor Burgess Meredith to quit his role as Sakini in Teahouse of the August Moon, be anchor prince in a four-hero Hamlet. Last week Baker stood by as 115 student actors presented his headiest experiment: a complex, three-hour dramatization of Thomas Wolfe's sprawling novel. Of Time and the River.

Paul Baker began acting in plays while he was a schoolboy in Waxahachie, Texas, went on to study drama at the town's Trinity University. In 1933 he studied at Yale under the university's late famed Drama Professor George Pierce Baker (no kin). Next year he had set up a shop in a onetime chapel at Baylor, produced an experimental play. All the while he inveighed against the restrictions of conventional theaters—theaters with "one box for the actor and another box for the audience and that's all." The first thing he decided to do, Baker recalled last week, "was to break out of the old box."