Forgive me for further dragging on about the fate of Sunset Cottage, but we need to think about the (debatably) ugly pile of dust and destruction awaiting us beneath the snow. Forget whether or not it should have gone down in the first place — it happened and we’re here — and it is now the community’s job to seriously consider this patch of barren ground’s latent potential.
Nostalgia for Sunset Cottage has tended to embody the “old” Kenyon experience, an ode to the place that taught students more than the humanities or social sciences. An alumnus concerned about the space reached out to the Collegian and made it clear to me that beyond fond college memories, Sunset came to represent the nurturing of soul and lifelong studenthood that all those who passed through Gambier experienced. Inspired by the Kenyon that he knew to be full of profoundly thoughtful literary students and scholars, he imagined the community response to Sunset’s absence as rising up and filling the empty space with voice. Where the words have value rather than the apparatus that surrounds them. I love old Kenyon stories, and would love for the meaningful replacement for Sunset to be poetic rather than practical, but I’m afraid that may be unrealistic. I think there is a communal compromise to be made between nostalgic alumni and the needs of today’s students.
As the discussion surrounding Sunset illustrated, and as any observant student could walk around and confirm, Kenyon has changed in more ways than the physical. Kenyon faces existential fiscal challenges, and has to continue marketing itself to prospective students in order to survive. The majority of students are no longer literary critics, poets, philosophers or theologians, and I’m increasingly pessimistic about the possibility of you being one if you watch enough Instagram Reels. As badly as a performative humanities major may want to flip a milk carton upside down and try to bring Sunset back with the power of poetry, their time has passed. That being said, it wouldn’t be prudent to leave the space right outside the doors of our new admissions building awkwardly empty. But that doesn’t mean we can’t honor Sunset.
My proposal: Let’s build an outdoor grass and stone amphitheater on Sunset’s grave.
The uses of an outdoor amphitheater are traditionally Kenyon enough to honor what once stood in its place, and may be just reasonable enough for those in charge to consider it. Sunset’s barren grave could host poetry slams, outdoor classes or any group of friends looking for something fun to do. Think about Battle of the Bands, a moving lecture from your favorite professor or just about any other performance you can imagine. Wouldn’t all of them be better in the Sunset Amphitheater? It perfectly fits the terrain, as the hill sloping down to the spot where center stage would be overlooks the woods toward the Kokosing. It would nicely contrast the surrounding edifices on the West Quad, still look good to prospective students, all without abandoning the basic principles and character of Kenyon. I’m willing to start digging. Are you?
Robbie Lifson ’27 is a political science and psychology major from Sudbury, MA. He can be reached at lifson3@kenyon.edu.