Cap and Clown : CalArts Graduation Features Trademark Sartorial Satire

The proud parents of the CalArts Class of 1996 leaned back in their folding chairs, squinted through the desert sun and began their fashion critique.

“Look, there’s another one dressed like a dog,” said an elderly woman, pointing to a young woman strutting across the balcony overlooking the school’s music courtyard.

The eclectic Class of 1996, the largest in the Valencia art institute’s 26-year history, mostly shunned caps and gowns at its graduation Friday. It was a ceremony that conformed with the school’s nonconformist image: Honorary degree recipient Laurie Anderson performed with a microphone stuffed in her mouth, the president’s address was interrupted by a hail of beach balls and one cross-dressed grad rode to the platform astride a golden palomino.

“Everybody wants to be as creative as possible,” said Assistant Registrar Sharon Yeates, summing up the CalArts ethos as graduates decked out in bridal gowns and Civil War uniforms milled about. “Anything goes.”

Founded by the Disney family, in part to help stock its studios with creative minds, the California Institute of the Arts has been a steady producer of offbeat talent for nearly three decades. On Friday, it was evident that this year’s crop of 291 graduates are upholding the tradition.

The melange of the grads’ sartorial displays--from cap, gown and bikini ensembles to the full Scottish regalia on 21-year-old Caleb Terray--actually underwhelmed many blase participants.

“That’s the second kilt I’ve seen today,” remarked one student as Terray exchanged farewells with classmates.

“I’m ready to go. Four years is enough,” Terray said. His immediate future holds “waiting tables and acting--but that’s the norm,” he said, conceding some deficit of uniqueness. One talent agency is interested, he said, and he’ll be appearing in the Santa Clarita Repertory Company’s summer production of Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night.”

Derek Syverud, a 25-year-old drummer from Santa Rosa, and Bobby Brennan, a 21-year-old bassist from Queens, N.Y., stood side by side Friday, decked out in the dark suits and midnight shades of the Blues Brothers.

“We rob banks also,” Syverud quipped.

But the Blues Brothers were outdone by Scooter Chamness, Johannes Gamble, Cosmo Segurson and Clay Morrow. The graduates--who roomed together each of their four years at CalArts--crammed into one homemade, oversize suit for the ceremony. As each friend was called to the podium to receive his diploma, the other three had no choice but to tag along.

“We thought if we did this today, we’d never have to see each other again,” deadpanned Morrow.

Actually, the foursome will continue to be joined at the hip, sharing a house in Glendale.

Among such a crowd, Kurando Mitsutake, 27, felt positively underdressed with but one earring, orange highlights in his black hair, dark green suit and black Nehru shirt. “I’m coming back here for my M.A.,” the Japanese native explained. “I’m saving my crazy act.”

The class marched to their seats to the rhythms of an African music ensemble as the audience of parents and friends hooted and howled at the more outrageous attire. The loudest cheers were reserved for Dennis James Willis’ entrance on horseback. (“Let’s make this as ostentatious and gaudy as possible,” was how Willis, wearing a billowy dress and straw hat, explained his motivation.)

The ceremony’s theme was Dr. Seuss, and dance students planted a floppy Cat-in-the-Hat hat on CalArts President Steven D. Lavine. As Lavine and others spoke about the promise of young artists, the graduates bounced mammoth beach balls into the air.

Anderson, the avant-garde violinist and performance artist, and jazz drummer Elvin Jones received honorary degrees and brought the crowd to its feet with their performances.

Anderson warned the graduates against letting their art become tainted by what she called the American obsession with work. “It comes out better if you think of it as having a real good time--and I see you have no problem with that at all.”

Then she popped a small microphone into her mouth, transforming her voice into something sounding like a violin, and warbled a brief “song.”

She was followed by Jones, who has played with jazz immortals John Coltrane, Charlie Parker and Miles Davis. He electrified the crowd with a series of drum riffs.

Even while walking onstage to receive its diplomas, the Class of 1996 remained unorthodox. One graduate rappelled onstage from a balcony above. The dance department rode to the platform crammed in an ambulance, emerging with champagne bottles.

Cheers rang out for animation student Melanie Allyson Cordan, who wore the day’s most discussed outfit--gaudy plastic butterfly wings dangling off a custom-made bodysuit, insectile antennae and little else.

“I am metamorphosing into my new life,” Cordan, 23, explained before hitting the stage. Though she told her uncle and grandmother about her costume, she didn’t warn her mother.

After bounding off the stage with her diploma, Cordan hitched up her wings and ran to her dear mom, who stood staring, her mouth hanging open.