The Giant Pencil

by Jeff Shelton

Photos by Pete Grigorov

I suppose I've had an obsession with the pencil my whole life. As far as I'm concerned, all ideas seep from the tip of a pencil. In 1983, my pencil fever spiked, and a voice inside me said I HAD TO BUILD a GIANT PENCIL. Perhaps an appreciation for Claus Oldenburg contributed, but I realized that as this was my last year in Architecture School, and a Giant Pencil NEEDED to be built and then suspended from the rafters of the Centrum (the large indoor courtyard) of the School of Architecture at the University of Arizona in Tucson.

So I asked the Dean if I could build a 72 foot pencil in the Centrum. I didn't bring up the idea of hanging it, as that would have been too much to ask for at the time. He said, “Jeff, if I say 'No' will it matter at all?” That was a complex question. I was looking for a 'Yes or No' answer. I just looked at him and said, “Thanks."

We started ordering materials, but having little money, the funds dried up when we bought a bottle of glue. So I went to the Library and found the address of the company that makes Ticonderoga pencils. I wrote Mr. Wallace of the Wallace Pencil Company in St. Louis and he kindly sent me a check for the $350 that I had asked for, with the condition that we make the yellow Ticonderoga No. 2 pencil, and “match every detail as closely as possible.” We ordered the materials, and my wife Karin, my friend Pete Grigorov, and I started putting the pencil together in 8-foot-long segments. We borrowed the wood shop and made wooden hexagonal frames that we bolted together.

We then stretched and sewed a 72 foot long canvas over the frame and gessoed it to tighten. We took a traffic cone from Speedway Boulevard and painted it black to use for the pencil lead. The end of the school year was near, and we would be leaving town soon, so we used the foam mattress we were sleeping on for the eraser. We painted the canvas yellow and added the words Ticonderoga #2 in green. The pencil was done.

We were a couple of weeks away from graduation, which would take place in the Centrum. By this time, it was known (but not announced) that we wanted to suspend the Pencil from the trusses 45 feet above where the ceremony would be. A professor called me into his office and said, “Jeff, I hear you want to hang the pencil in the Centrum?” He looked out of his window and pointed to a large Woolworth's sign Pete and I had salvaged and hung from the second floor stair railing the year before. He continued, “I won't say anything under the condition that you remove your 80 foot Woolworth's sign.” We were about to remove it anyway, so that was a great deal.

The following Friday, the Dean called me back to his office. He was unusually personable and offered me some cookies. We talked about future plans and ambitions, sort of a fond farewell and then he turned toward his window facing the Centrum and the 72 foot pencil lying on the ground and said, “That's an impressive pencil.” I said, “Thank you” He was silent for about 30 seconds, then said, “By the way, I'm heading up to Phoenix after work, and won't be back until Monday.”

I got the word out that the pencil needed to be hung Saturday while the Dean was hiding in Phoenix, and rock climbers appeared from every direction. I didn't have to lift a finger. People were dangling from the trusses like it was a circus, and the Pencil was hoisted into place. The Dean came back on Monday, smiled, shook his head, and disappeared into his office. We had our graduation under the pencil, and then said goodbye.