In 1927, Jay Norwood “Ding” Darling published a cartoon in The Des Moines Register titled “What does mere man know about the perils of nonstop flight?” The panel features a wildlife landscape on two planes: crowds of hunters on the ground seemingly taking up every inch of land with massive shotguns, and a flight of mallards in the sky, shot down as they attempt to pass over the land.
Darling, Jay N. “What does mere man know about the perils of nonstop flight?” Editorial Cartoons of Jay N. “Ding” Darling [MsC0170], Special Collections and Archives, University of Iowa Libraries. Copyright: J.N. “Ding” Darling Foundation.
In 1928, Darling published “Wanted – more and better game refuges.” The singular panel features a landscape of chaos—various species of migratory birds fly between two landmasses, away from an army of automobiles filled with gun-wielding hunters and toward lines of shotguns across the water. As birds are shot down in the background, a terrified mallard exclaims, “If we only had a place to stop and catch our breath!”
Darling, Jay N. “Wanted – more and better game refuges.” Editorial Cartoons of Jay N. “Ding” Darling [MsC0170], Special Collections and Archives, University of Iowa Libraries. Copyright: J.N. “Ding” Darling Foundation.
Often, the most impactful conservationist mindsets come from deep meditation on the experiences of other species in our ecological sphere, outside of their immediate utility to human recreation. A species can be protected on paper, defended by legislation, celebrated by conservationists, and still have nowhere to land. For Darling, protecting wildlife meant protecting the places wildlife depended on, particularly during long migratory trips. Through both his editorial work and political activism, Darling asks us to consider: if migratory birds depend on a chain of habitats spanning thousands of miles, what does it mean to protect them if we safeguard only one link? How do we work toward protecting the paths they’ve followed for millennia?
Not satisfied with merely raising awareness through his cartoons, Darling transitioned from cartoonist to conservationist in the early 1930s. After becoming active in the State of Iowa Fish and Game Commission and personally funding the Cooperative Wildlife Research Unit at Iowa State University, Darling became chief of the U.S. Biological Survey, setting the foundation for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. His activism established some of the most important and successful conservation projects in the U.S., such as the first Federal Duck Stamp which began the primary funding program for waterfowl management. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Services reports that, today, 98% of money raised from duck stamps (over $1.3 billion) are directly used to acquire wetlands and conservation easements for the National Wildlife Refuge System.
Darling’s conservation success seems to be due in a large part to his innate understanding of the concept of ecology – not only considering the roles of various species together in a landscape, but the roles of various humans with differing experiences in the project of wildlife conservation. Alongside President Franklin D. Roosevelt, Darling held the first North American Wildlife Conference in 1936, inviting thousands of hunters, anglers, and conservationists to share perspectives on land stewardship. This meeting led to the establishment of wildlife refuges and federations in individual states, often with Darling as a trusted advisor, and the eventual establishment of the National Wildlife Federation. It was this unique mixing of perspectives and priorities that made the expansion of refuges so successful—again, best described by Darling himself in a later cartoon.
A 1945 piece features two panels: the first, titled “It is hard to start a fire with one stick of wood” depicts various men attempting to cook over logs labeled with various individual conservation projects; matches are littered on the ground, and the men are unable to start fires to heat their small, solitary pots. The second panel, titled “But if you would ever get the fire wood together in one pile -” features the same group, now gathered around a large fire made up of all their projects together, heating a massive pot labeled, “Conservation clearing house.” The crowd, now united in their unique perspectives toward a common goal, exclaims, “Boy! She’s a cookin’ now!”
Darling, Jay N. “Boy! She’s a cookin’ now!” Editorial Cartoons of Jay N. “Ding” Darling [MsC0170], Special Collections and Archives, University of Iowa Libraries. Copyright: J.N. “Ding” Darling Foundation.
This idea of participation is still incredibly important today. The U.S. Environmental Protection Agency reports over 1,300 endangered or threatened species in North America under the U.S. Endangered Species Act, which has faced massive retractions and revisions that narrow the definition of “harm,” limit habitat protections, and require intentional targeting of species for violations. Conservationists worry that these actions will put species in more significant danger and undermine nearly a century of work toward widely successful land conservation through governmental programs. However, there is a great deal of inspiration we can take from Darling to continue protecting the land for future generations. Thanks to the foundation that Darling and early conservationists worked tirelessly to establish, there are wildlife refuges in every state, with a network of over 570 spanning the country. We can continue Darling’s work by protecting these areas, teaching our children about ecological citizenship, and even just learning the names of the waterfowl that still pass over us in the millions, who finally find a place to catch their breath in protected lands.
This article is part of “Students Investigate,” a series featuring the work and research of UI students. The following was written by Cecil Campbell, exhibition and engagement student lead for the Main Library Gallery.
Jay N. “Ding” Darling was a conservationist, an environmental activist, and most famously, a two-time Pulitzer Prize winning political cartoonist. The role that the political cartoonist has played throughout history is an important one, characterized in equal parts by political landscape, audience, and the actions (and reactions) of the politicians that feature in these cartoons. To understand what made Ding’s cartoons so impactful, we must first understand three concepts: humor, audience, and message.
On the role of humor in political cartoons, scholar Abu Abraham writes, “Unlike the written or the spoken word, the effectiveness of the cartoon depends chiefly on the element of humour it contains.” It is important to remember that the political cartoon is just that: political. The partisan nature of politics, along with the editorial nature of the cartoon, means that when a cartoonist takes a stance on an issue (in politics, there’s always an “issue”), there’s also a group they take a stance against. The goal isn’t necessarily to provoke this opposing group into anger so much as it is to provide the cartoonist’s own perspective, for which humor acts as both argument and a shield of sorts. Abraham continues, “satire can often hurt deeper than a verbal assault; it can also have a softening effect on one’s opponent. Simple criticism or abuse may provoke, but satire persuades.” This is a point that Ding—as well as many other cartoonists—understood very well. For example, let’s look at a cartoon that seems at first glance to be making a joke at the expense of another political party.
Darling, Jay N. “It is always embarrassing to have the brewery wagon arrive when the minister is making a call.” Editorial Cartoons of Jay N. “Ding” Darling [MsC0170], Special Collections and Archives, University of Iowa Libraries. Copyright: J.N. “Ding” Darling Foundation.
This cartoon depicts an elephant (a stand-in for the Republican Party) looking back in embarrassment after answering the door to a large delivery of beer and wine while in the midst of entertaining a group of Prohibitionists. A note attached to the delivery identifies Woodrow Wilson as its sender. It might be easy to take this cartoon as an attack on the honesty of Republican members of congress—who are implied to have been sympathizing with prohibitionists and bootlegging alcohol at the same time—but the joke here isn’t quite so simple. The narrative is that someone’s been caught in a lie, and the exaggerated guilt and embarrassment shown by the elephant representing Republican Congress tells us that they’re the liars. We might take this to mean that we’re meant to sympathize with Wilson’s administration, or perhaps with the Prohibitionists who have been lied to. However, the friendly note addressed to Congress, as well as the incidental nature of the joke, places both political parties on the same side. If anything, the aged and comically scandalized Prohibitionists make up the punchline; their pearl clutching only adds to the humor. Abraham’s point about the softening effect of satire shines vividly through this cartoon. Ding tucks his message—being the commonplace refusal to abide by Prohibition—safely behind comedy, allowing an audience affiliated with any of the sides in this cartoon, be they Democrats, Republicans, or Prohibitionists, to acknowledge a truth that they may not have had it been portrayed critically.
The second concept we must understand is the role that the audience plays related to political cartoons. Scholar Larry Bush refers to fellow author Raymond Morris’s term “skimmer” when discussing readers of political cartoons: “Most cartoons are a combination of illustration and text and are best understood by the person who skims the entire piece in order to grasp its meaning. For lack of a better term, ‘skimmer’ refers to a person who reads cartoons, while ‘reader’ refers to someone who is literate.” This term is useful when identifying what must go into a cartoon to make it skimmable. Because, as Bush mentions, cartoons are combinations of illustrations and text, the illustrations and text must relate to each other in a way that makes the whole cartoon easy to understand. The most common methods Ding used to do this were narrative elements like metaphors, symbols, and signage. The cartoon below contains all three:
Darling, Jay N. “Helping herself first: Of course, everybody wants the hired girl to have all she wants to eat, but she might at least wait until she gets the meal started for the rest of the household.” The Des Moines Register, March 22nd, 1911. Editorial Cartoons of Jay N. “Ding” Darling [MsC0170], Special Collections and Archives, University of Iowa Libraries. Copyright: J.N. “Ding” Darling Foundation.
The public-facing nature of political cartoons requires them to be understandable to even the least politically conscious reader, while still retaining the message intended by the cartoonist. “Helping Herself First” translates legislative corruption into cartoon format: a “hybrid of text, pictorial representations, symbols, shadings, and humor that become a puzzle…that is affectively engaging to skimmers.” This cartoon is full of symbols and pictorial representations, showing us how Ding uses metaphor to explain complicated topics from his perspective. Ding depicts the legislators—not as politicians with the power to control Iowa’s political future, but as a greedy housemaid. The family that this maid works for represents the citizens of Iowa. Reframing the relationship between legislators and their constituents in this way significantly changes who holds the power in that relationship: the legislators are people who work for and are employed by the citizens of Iowa. In other words, they work for us.
Bush writes about “two types of symbols” described by E.H. Gombrich: “the natural metaphor and the ad hoc symbol. Natural metaphors are symbols that humans automatically understand…[these] include beauty versus ugliness and big versus small. These are especially useful for cartoonists in that they simplify the communication process.” We can see how Ding has used ugliness to negatively portray the legislators and prohibitionists in the last two cartoons. In the illustration below, we see an example of one of the many ways one could use the big versus small metaphor:
Darling, Jay N. “The conservation interests can get what they need if they will pull together.” Editorial Cartoons of Jay N. “Ding” Darling [MsC0170], Special Collections and Archives, University of Iowa Libraries. Copyright: J.N. “Ding” Darling Foundation.
The size of the crowd in this cartoon completely dwarfs the two politicians the crowd is converging on, proving how quickly natural metaphors communicate information to readers. The size of the crowd communicates two things when compared with the size of the two politicians: the first being that the politicians have done something to make the crowd angry, the second being that the crowd has much more power than the politicians do. Natural metaphors play on the associations that audiences will automatically make, for example: big equals strong, small equals weak. The subject of this cartoon is the lack of support in Congress for environmental conservation. By arranging the two sides of this issue so that the conservationists take up as much space as they do, Ding is persuading the audience to take their side. Signs distinguish the different groups of people making up the crowd, and this has the benefit of both telling the audience who might care about conservation and giving them a chance to personally identify with a group that they might belong to.
Though cartoons require a more interpretive approach for properly communicating their ideas than words do, author Sylvie Cannon writes, “if it is effective, the cartoon will synthetize perfectly the ideas and feelings that words will sometimes imperfectly convey. This is often achieved at the expense of complexity: issues will be reduced to simple terms as the cartoonist distills his material until the essence remains. The cartoon then makes us comprehend instantly the point the artist wants to make.” There are many ways of doing this, but few methods are as instantly comprehended as the use of shock value.
Darling, Jay N. “A hundred years of progress—” December 28, 1940. Editorial Cartoons of Jay N. “Ding” Darling [MsC0170], Special Collections and Archives, University of Iowa Libraries. Copyright: J.N. “Ding” Darling Foundation.
It is plainly obvious which part of this cartoon is meant to convey shock, but that doesn’t lessen its effect. Shock can be a controversial tactic to use for getting an audience’s attention, as it usually involves showing the audience something upsetting, often unexpectedly. When used correctly, shock value doesn’t need to exaggerate the upsetting aspects of what it shows us to be effective; it simply needs to be honest.
The first panel of this cartoon highlights different milestones in medical science as a crowd of doctors and nurses approach a sickly-looking family. The contrast between this panel and the second is stark. A bomber plane flies over the wreckage of a town destroyed by war; mangled corpses lay gape-mouthed next to craters and rubble as the plane drops missiles on more buildings in the distance. Ding did not have a reputation for shying away from harsh truths, and this cartoon is only one of many that prove that. The text at the top of this panel, reading “…and in mass murder,” bluntly states what cannot be sanitized for the reader’s comfort. The honesty in this scene is what makes the shock of it so effective, leaving an impression that stays with the reader even after they’ve turned the page.
The political cartoon is a deceptively simple thing, one that only gets more complicated the closer it’s examined. It takes a unique understanding of both visual and narrative storytelling for the cartoonist to translate their opinion into an image or two that tells an audience exactly what they mean, using as few words as possible. The examples in this article highlight a few of Ding Darling’s methods for achieving this, but something that cannot be ignored is the personality that comes through in every cartoon. Ding gained the notoriety that he had not just because of the cartoons he drew, but because there was something about his wit, humor, and style that kept readers coming back to read more. In Ding’s case, the cartoons he drew weren’t only expressions of his opinion; they were extensions of himself.
Cecil Campbell installing his pop-up exhibit at FilmScene for the Refocus Film Festival, October 2026.
Bibliography: Abraham, A. (1975). “Anatomy of the Political Cartoon.” India International Centre Quarterly, 2(4), 273–279. http://www.jstor.org/stable/23001883
Bush, L. (2013). “More than Words: Rhetorical Constructs in American Political Cartoons.” Studies in American Humor, (27), 63–91. http://www.jstor.org/stable/23823980
Cannon, S., & Cannon, S. (1990). “Editorial cartoons and the American involvement in Vietnam.” Revue Française d’études Américaines, (43), 59–83. http://www.jstor.org/stable/20872048
It’s Been Wonderful Knowing You: Wildlife Conservation and Advocacy Through the Lens of Jay N. “Ding” Darling, the fall 2026 exhibition in the University of Iowa Main Library Gallery, features the work of a Pulitzer Prize-winning cartoonist from Iowa who was a major catalyst for the modern American conservation movement. From original cartoons and photographs to correspondence and natural history specimens, each item on display helps tell the story of Darling’s efforts to save America’s wildlife and natural resources.
Collin Vandewalle, exhibition co-curator and Sackner Archive project archivist, next to materials from the Jay N. “Ding” Darling Papers, Special Collections and Archives, UI Libraries.
Collin Vandewalle, Sackner Archive project archivist in Special Collections and Archives, co-curated the exhibition with Lindsay Moen, lead public services librarian in the same department. Through his research for the exhibit’s narrative and his time working closely with the Jay N. “Ding” Darling Papers, Vandewalle has gained significant expertise about Darling and his life’s work.
Question: How did you become involved in the exhibition project, and what did you enjoy most about the process? Answer: I was a graduate student at the University of Iowa’s School of Library and Information Science and worked in Special Collections and Archives as a student lead. I worked specifically with the Darling Papers, so my then-supervisor—and now colleague—Lindsay Moen asked if I wanted to help her curate the Darling exhibit. I eagerly accepted so I could have a chance to apply all the knowledge I had gained about him. My favorite aspect of the process was the chance to tell a story about a side of Darling that not many people know about: his environmental conservation work.
Q: What draws you most to the story of Ding Darling? A: I was drawn in most by his unwavering and unending zeal to help protect the natural resources of our country. Not many other people can claim they have worked so hard to save native migratory fowl, especially ducks, as Darling did, and I really admire that fervor.
Q: As a curator, researcher, and Iowan, what does this exhibit mean to you personally? A: I think it is important to tell the stories of prominent Iowans like Ding Darling and highlight the fantastic history this state has had when it comes to environmental conservation causes. It is so important to connect today’s Iowans to our scientific roots and reflect on how we can continue this kind of work in our state. I am proud that I can take all the research I have done and highlight this history through a curated exhibit.
Q: When did you first hear about Ding Darling, and how have you worked with his materials over time? A: I had my first encounter with Ding Darling’s legacy when I was nine years old on a family trip to Florida. We went to the J.N. “Ding” Darling National Wildlife Refuge, and it was such a fantastic experience that I still remember it vividly 20 years later. I had my second encounter with Darling during my undergraduate experience at Drake University in Des Moines. I worked in the University Archives and Special Collections at the Cowles Library on campus and helped with another Darling exhibit that Drake hosted in 2017. I then worked with his papers for just over three years here at the University of Iowa.
Q: Why is it important to have this exhibit in the Main Library Gallery? A: I think it is important that the campus community and the broader public gain a better understanding of just how robust the Darling collection is here at the University of Iowa Libraries. It is also amazing that we have the capability to showcase rare materials—like a presidential letter from Franklin Delano Roosevent to Darling, for example—in a safe and professional way through the Main Library Gallery.
Q: What are some of the most surprising things you learned during your research? A: I was most surprised by just how interconnected Darling was with the politics and culture of his time. It seems like he knew every prominent figure from the turn of the 20th century. He met with Henry Ford, Theodore Roosevelt, Herbert Hoover, Walt Disney, Aldo Leopold, and many more celebrities.
Q: What is your favorite object in the exhibit? A: My favorite object would be the letter from Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR) to Darling where he claimed that Darling had pulled the largest “heist” on the United States Treasury in American history. The letter is an amazing piece of history that highlights the tensions that FDR and Darling had for one another, particularly when it came to funding priorities. One will have to come to the exhibit to learn the context of this surreal letter.
Letter from President Franklin Delano Roosevelt to Jay N. “Ding” Darling, July 29, 1935. Presidential Letters Collection, Special Collections and Archives, UI Libraries.
Q: What about Darling’s life and work do you hope visitors will take away from their time in the exhibit? A: I hope they leave the exhibit understanding that even just one person can spark change when it comes to environmental conservation. I hope they can see that Darling set a fantastic precedent on how we, too, can help protect the ducks and other wildlife of Iowa!
Q: The Jay N. “Ding” Darling Papers in Special Collections have recently had some significant updates that make them even more accessible to researchers. What was your role in this project? A: My main role was making sure the Darling Papers were easier to use and more accessible to the public before the exhibit started. This meant that I rehoused a majority of the collection into newer archival grade boxes that will protect the material far longer into the future. I also spent a great deal of time intellectually reorganizing the finding aid so that researchers will have an easier time finding specific information from this extensive collection.
Q: Is there anything else you would like to share? A: I want to thank everyone involved in making this exhibit come to life. It was a fantastic experience to co-curate this project at the start of my professional career.
I hope everyone who comes to the exhibit leaves having learned at least one new thing about Darling or wildlife conservation. For those interested in a more in-depth look at Darling, I also worked with recent graduate student Hailee McCormick to create a 150-year timeline that spans Darling’s entire life and the institutions that make up his legacy up to 2026. That will be available online soon.
Ding Darling at The Des Moines Register, undated. Jay N. “Ding” Darling Papers [MsC0170], Special Collections and Archives.
Curated by Sackner Archive Project Archivist (previously Exhibit Support Librarian) Collin Vandewalle and Lead Public Services Librarian Lindsay Moen, both from Special Collections and Archives at the UI Libraries, the exhibition focuses on Iowa cartoonist Jay N. “Ding” Darling’s work in wildlife and environmental conservation.
Darling, who grew up in Sioux City and lived in Des Moines for several decades, was one of the nation’s most influential figures in the American conservation movement. As Iowa’s natural landscape changed over the course of his lifetime, leading to the loss of many native prairies, wetlands, and wildlife species in the state, Darling became a devoted advocate for wildlife and the environment. The Pulitzer Prize-winning political cartoonist for The Des Moines Register used his national renown and platform to spread the word about conservation to newspaper readers all over the country. He often gave public presentations about conservation needs, worked on local and national policy initiatives, and donated funds to conservation activities and organizations across the United States.
First-ever Federal Duck Stamp featuring a brush and ink drawing by Jay N. “Ding” Darling of a mallard pair, 1934–1935. Jay N. “Ding” Darling Papers [MsC0170], Special Collections and Archives.
Darling also served as the chief of the U.S. Biological Survey (now the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service), appointed by President Franklin D. Roosevelt. He spent a year in Washington, D.C., doing this work and, with his staff, initiated the establishment of several national wildlife refuges and crafted the Federal Duck Stamp program—which is still in use today—to raise funds for habitat conservation.
Shirley Briggs conducting a bird census at Glover Archbold Park in Washington, D.C., undated. Shirley A. Briggs Papers [IWA0197], Iowa Women’s Archives.
The exhibition primarily features materials from the Jay N. “Ding” Darling Papers in Special Collections and Archives such as personal correspondence, photographs, sketches and finished cartoons, first edition books, original duck stamps, watercolors, and more. Books and ephemera from the Shirley A. Briggs Papers and the 100 Grannies Records at the Iowa Women’s Archives tell stories of other individuals in conservation who have made an impact on both national and local levels with their efforts. Duck and egg specimens from the University of Iowa Museum of Natural History, an original copper printing plate from the Brunnier Art Museum at Iowa State University, artworks from IIHR—Hydroscience and Engineering, and found natural objects from Bur Oak Land Trust are also on display.
“I think it is important to tell the stories of prominent Iowans like Ding Darling and highlight the fantastic history this state has had when it comes to conservation causes,” says Vandewalle. “It is so meaningful to connect modern day Iowans to our scientific roots and reflect on how we can continue this kind of work in our state.”
“This exhibit not only tells the story of Ding Darling and his advocacy work, but it also introduces the visitor to some incredible women, local community groups, and campus collaborations,” says Moen. “We feature Rachel Carson, Shirley Briggs, and their work in environmental education and advocacy. We highlight a local community group, 100Grannies, to show that anyone can continue to make a difference where they are. We also showcase UI student and faculty-led projects like BlueGAP and the Meandering River Project.”
Learn more about the exhibition, related events, and visiting hours at lib.uiowa.edu/gallery.
Exhibits always present opportunities for innovation.
When co-curators Katie Buehner and Sarah Sudadolnik were envisioning the visitor experience for Orchestrating Community: The Public Service of Iowa Conductor James Dixon, an audio interactive was at the heart of it. They wanted guests of their spring 2026 University of Iowa Main Library Gallery exhibition to encounter an immersive space that could feel like James Dixon’s home office: a wallpaper pattern inspired by real designs from his home in Iowa City; a desk accessorized by music scores, photographs from his life, plants, an ashtray, and a coffee cup; a flannel shirt for orchestra rehearsals; and a record player with audio clips of his voice and performances he conducted.
José Jiménez, director of Libraries Information Technology (LIT), knew this record player would require special engineering and was invited to lead its design. After hearing Buehner and Suhadolnik’s idea for an interactive, he was reminded of a project he had seen online involving a mini jukebox that used an RFID (radio frequency identification) reader and tags. He decided to experiment with this idea for the exhibition.
The goal was to embed an RFID reader into a record player, attach pre-programmed RFID tags to real records, and encourage visitors to spin the records on the turntable. This would trigger audio to play through speakers that were connected to a computer hidden near the device.
“I’ve always been a tinkerer, and I’ve always liked solving problems,” says Jiménez, who has worked in information technology at Iowa for over 20 years. “In my day-to-day role, problem-solving usually involves a meeting or a conversation and connecting people to each other. Working on this project for the Main Library Gallery let me go back to my roots a bit, find as simple and efficient a solution to the problem as I could, and let me write a bit of code to boot.”
José Jiménez, director of Libraries Information Technology, assembles a custom-built audio interactive for the spring 2026 exhibition in the Main Library Gallery. Photo: Sara Pinkham.
Jiménez originally considered 3D printing the interactive display, which would have been designed to mimic a real record player. After some additional research, he realized the most cost-effective option would be to purchase and retrofit broken technology instead. After incorporating the RFID reader into the existing structure of the record player, Jiménez encountered a challenge.
“The reader could not find the tags,” he says. “There was too much metal in the way. We had to disassemble the record player, cut away some of the metal, and recreate the platter using other materials so the signals would not be blocked.”
Bill Voss, exhibit preparator and a conservator technician in Conservation and Collections Care, helped solve this issue by recreating the entire platter out of plexiglass and matboard. “Without this, the project would not have worked,” says Jiménez.
Collaboration with other colleagues ensured the interactive worked sustainably and matched the exhibit’s design aesthetic.
Will Brown, LIT support consultant, made the project sustainable for the exhibit’s five-month run.
“He provided the platform and the hardware,” says Jiménez. “Will made sure I had all the information and infrastructure I needed to make this a truly hands-off, robust system to power the interactive. I just added the software on top of that to play the audio when the RFID tags were recognized.”
The RFID tags were attached to real records and hidden beneath custom labels crafted by Lauren Coghlan, creative coordinator and graphic designer for the exhibit. Labels for each record were different and all inspired by retro design trends.
Custom labels were designed by Lauren Coghlan. Photo: Sara Pinkham.
“Being able to pick up a record from the rack, place it on the record player, and listen—as James Dixon might have—to the performance or radio interview in the audio allowed visitors to step back in time and be in the moment,” says Jiménez.
The audio interactive was one of the highlights of the exhibition, connecting visitors with archival audio and new oral history interviews related to James Dixon’s life and career. These sound clips, edited by Buehner, will remain available online.
Katie Buehner, exhibit co-curator and director of the Rita Benton Music Library, shows a visitor how to use the record player interactive in the spring 2026 Main Library Gallery exhibition. Photo: Krista Hershberger.
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Orchestrating Community: The Public Service of Iowa Conductor James Dixon was on display in the Main Library Gallery at the University of Iowa Libraries from Jan. 2 –June 26, 2026. The exhibition was curated by Sarah Suhadolnik, assistant professor of instruction at the UI School of Music, and Katie Buehner, director of the Rita Benton Music Library.
The following was compiled by Cecil Campbell, exhibition and engagement student lead for the Main Library Gallery, and features select exhibition text by Sarah Suhadolnik and Katie Buehner.
During his considerable tenure as conductor of the Quad City Symphony Orchestra, James Dixon developed a reputation for programming modern compositions, which occasionally ruffled the feathers of his more traditional-minded audience members. Though he faced some objections, Dixon’s love for the music he conducted ultimately led to a wider appreciation in his audiences for newer or more avant-garde compositions. Amidst the repertory Dixon conducted, the works of Gustav Mahler (1860–1911) figure prominently.
Portrait of Gustav Mahler in Hamburg, 1892. Photograph by Leonard Berlin. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
Gustav Mahler was born in Bohemia but spent a great deal of his professional life as a composer and conductor in Vienna. His last few years were spent as the music director of the New York Philharmonic (1909–1911), the longest consistently operating orchestra in the United States. No composer of orchestral music exploited the orchestra’s grandness like Mahler. He composed sprawling symphonic works of such breadth that just one can fill an entire concert program. His nine mammoth symphonies require enormous performing forces (up to 500 musicians for the Eighth Symphony) and often stretch over an hour in length (up to 100 minutes for the Third Symphony), making attempts to keep the composer’s music in the public ear a major event. Fearing such a limited program would result in low ticket sales, the Tri-City (now Quad City) Symphony Orchestra avoided programming a Mahler symphony until 1979, when Dixon conducted Symphony No. 2, “Resurrection,” with Martha Sheil (soprano) and Anne Larson (mezzo-soprano) and choirs from Augustana College joining for the performance. The symphony—nearly an hour and a half long—elicited an awed and intense reaction from the crowd.
In response to James Dixon’s conducting of Mahler’s second symphony, The Sunday Dispatch headline read, “Symphony concert of the decade,” with reviewer Bill McElwain in ecstasy over the “powerfully stunning performance of the Mahler Symphony no. 2.”
Mahler once told another composer, “The symphony must be like the world, it must embrace everything.” His symphonic world included a wide array of musical styles and types, including sound effects evoking natural settings (e.g., birdsong, cowbells, bellowing horns), military marches, folk songs, chorales, funeral dirges, children’s music, and playful musical jokes. To conduct Mahler is to explore, with a complex and wide-ranging sound map, the many places in life where sound and music play a role.
For his last performances with the Quad City Symphony Orchestra—April 9 and 10, 1994, at the Adler Theater in Davenport, Iowa, and Centennial Hall in Rock Island, Illinois—James Dixon selected Symphony No. 5 by Gustav Mahler.
A composer with an incredible legacy and impact, the influence that Mahler had on Dixon comes as no surprise. The choice to perform one of Mahler’s symphonies for his last performance speaks to an open mind and considerable talent.
The following was compiled by Cecil Campbell, exhibition and engagement student lead for the Main Library Gallery, and features select exhibition text by Sarah Suhadolnik and Katie Buehner.
Dixon with the Tri-City (now Quad City) Symphony Orchestra, 1968. James Dixon Papers [UA10028], University Archives, University of Iowa Libraries.
In 1916, the Tri-Cities area—Rock Island, Illinois; Moline, Illinois; and Davenport, Iowa—was the smallest community in the country to support a full symphony orchestra. Now the Quad City Symphony Orchestra (QCSO), it is one of the oldest continuously operating orchestras in the United States.
Dixon with American soprano Margherita Roberti and two other soloists. Roberti lived in Iowa as a child, was an international opera star, and held her farewell concert in 1988 with the Quad City Symphony Orchestra. Courtesy of the Quad City Symphony Orchestra.
In 1965, 37-year-old James Dixon was hired as the music director, appointing him steward of this legacy and the most recent director in a line of (at the time) seven before him. Although Dixon’s programming choices initially tested the tastes of audiences and administrators alike, he quickly garnered a reputation for steady leadership.
While learning to work with professional musicians, Dixon also grew into his role in the organization’s ongoing efforts to secure subscribers—members of the community who provide essential annual support. The care and discipline Dixon brought to his work transformed him into a local celebrity. While that may seem like high praise, Dixon’s celebrity status could be seen in more than just reputation. For example, at the time Dixon joined the QCSO as conductor, the organization had a modest budget. By the time he retired in 1994, budgets were significantly larger owing to his fundraising efforts.
Dixon’s—and the QCSO’s—long-term investment in local community has paid large dividends. When one considers not only how important the orchestra is—and was—to its audiences, but to the musicians themselves, it makes his level of commitment stand out all the more. As one of the Quad Cities’ oldest community groups, it makes sense that the QCSO has played a significant role not just in the lives of area residents, but in many of its members’ lives as well.
Riverfront Pops postcard featuring Dixon conducting, 1994. Courtesy of the Quad City Symphony Orchestra.
In a now-archived blog post from the Davenport Public Library’s website, special collections librarian Sarah J. Wesson wrote, “The Symphony has remained a cohesive group, weathering storms and uncertainties together. Though none of the original [early] musicians remain, of course, many of the current members have been with the orchestra for a remarkable length of time.”
After 29 years with the QCSO, James Dixon left an impression as significant as his orchestra. Former QCSO executive director Lance Willett said, “I think it’s something that rarely, if ever, will be seen again in most communities. That kind of dedication and connection to a community…is the sort of relationship that exists very, very, rarely.”
Katie Buehner, exhibition co-curator and director of the Rita Benton Music Library.
Katie Buehner, director of the Rita Benton Music Library, co-curated the exhibition with Sarah Suhadolnik, assistant professor of instruction at the University of Iowa School of Music. Buehner played an important role in facilitating the donation of the Dixon Papers to the Libraries.
Question: What inspired you to co-curate this exhibition? Answer: When the Libraries received the donation of James Dixon’s papers, I knew they would make for a great exhibit. It’s a big collection—over 1,200 music scores to start, and we’re still working our way through the papers portion—and so there’s been a great deal of content from which to tell this story. When I met with the donors Carey Bostian and Miera Kim, one of our stated aims was to get the collection into the public eye so that they could use it for research and to spur their own creativity. An exhibit is a great way to start that process.
Q: What drew you into the story of James Dixon (1928–2007)? A: I think listening to the stories from people who played under Dixon’s baton really drew me into wanting to know more about him and his philosophy of music-making. There’s great admiration for him as a skilled conductor and musician, even if he could be gruff and demanding. I also was so impressed by his mentor, Dimitri Mitropoulos, who despite being a world-class conductor lived such a humble, simple existence. One thing I feel I share with Dixon is the statement he made at his retirement party: he learned to love teaching, and that’s where he really felt he’d left something enduring behind.
Q: What has curating this exhibit meant to you as both a librarian and musician? A: I haven’t seen many exhibits about music, especially centered on classical music stories, and that’s a world I’ve inhabited for decades now. It’s very easy to say that classical music or orchestras are passe and not accessible to the average person, but I think this exhibit tells a different story. It shows how orchestras can and are community-rich organizations that connect people with all kinds of music and experiences.
Q: How did the Dixon Papers come to Iowa? A: I moved to Iowa in 2014 to become the music librarian, and a colleague at the Libraries—Christine Bellomy—introduced me to local musicians Carey Bostian and Miera Kim. Carey waited about two seconds before telling me all about Dixon’s score collection and other papers he had stored in every hidey-hole in their house, and it’s possible that my jaw hit the floor when I saw what they had. It would be another five years before we started moving the collection to the Rita Benton Music Library and another couple before the donation was completed. I’ve been humbled by the trust of Carey and Miera in the Libraries to steward this collection, and I’m also so glad to call them friends.
We’ve been able to process most (so close to all) of the collection, partially due to financial support from Carey and Miera, and I’m hopeful we’ll be announcing a completed finding aid soon.
Miera Kim, Carey Bostian, Sarah Suhadolnik, and Katie Buehner with materials from the James Dixon Papers.
Q: Why is it important to have this exhibit in the Main Library Gallery? A: The Main Library Gallery opened not long after I was hired at Iowa, and it’s a fabulous space for exhibits. I’ve seen the gallery mature during the last decade, and the exhibits staff have found so many clever ways to present content. I’m constantly impressed. The space allowed us to tell a story of a particular size that suited the collection and narrative well. The Main Library is also open more hours than the Rita Benton Music Library, so there’s time for people to experience it.
Q: What are some of the most surprising things you learned during your research for this project? A: Dixon’s time in the U.S. Army is such an interesting corner of his history, and the history of the United States in post-World War II Europe. There’s a book about the Seventh Army Symphony, Uncle Sam’s Orchestra, for anyone who is equally fascinated by the topic.
The International Society for Contemporary Music festival in Boston was also a bright spot in researching Dixon’s time at Iowa. We found a reel from the event that had an interview with Dixon, and then the performances by the orchestra. As I listen to these recordings, I cannot believe it’s a college orchestra performing such complicated music. University of Iowa alumnus Greg Eriksen, who played in that concert, drove to Iowa City this spring to see the exhibit and let us scan a really cool poster from that event, which you can see here. Iowa was one of only two college orchestras to perform at that event, with the New England Conservatory orchestra being the other. ISCM has only been held in the United States that one time in 1976. And Iowa was there.
Poster from ISCM/World Music Days, 1976. Contributed by Greg Eriksen.
Q: What is your favorite object in the exhibit? A: While I’m a sucker for telegrams, and I really like the one we have in the exhibit, I’m going to say the letter Dixon wrote to Maxon P. Roller. Roller was a symphony patron who wrote to Dixon lamenting the programming of contemporary works. Dixon responded with grace and a clear statement of his approach to programming and the importance of playing new music. He’s not snide or judgmental—he’s thoughtful but unapologetic. It’s a handwritten, muti-page letter, and I find it exemplary that he would take the time to respond so thoughtfully to this one audience member.
Q: What do you hope visitors will take away from their time in Orchestrating Community? A: I hope visitors take away new ideas about orchestras and how they inhabit their own communities. But I also like when exhibits lead people to ask questions of themselves and others, so I hope some of that happens, too.
Q: Is there anything else you would like to share? A: I’m so glad I worked with a co-curator on this exhibit. Sarah Suhadolnik created the community frame for the narrative, and it beautifully anchors Dixon’s story and the story of his many orchestras. Exhibit work is highly collaborative, and I am grateful to every person who contributed to this project. Take a look at the credits and see how many cooks were in the kitchen as well as all the people who supported this endeavor. And, come back to the Main Library Gallery this fall for the Ding Darling exhibit, which, from what I’m hearing, sounds like it will be amazing.
Sarah Suhadolnik, exhibition co-curator and assistant professor of instruction at the UI School of Music.
Sarah Suhadolnik, assistant professor of instruction at the University of Iowa School of Music, co-curated the exhibition with Katie Buehner, director of the Rita Benton Music Library. The broader Dixon collection, now part of the University Archives at the UI Libraries, provided a strong foundation for Suhadolnik’s exhibition research.
Question: What inspired you to co-curate this exhibition? Answer: I always listen with great interest to Katie’s tales of how the library collects the rare items it accumulates. Discussions of the work involved in acquiring the Dixon materials pushed me to develop my graduate seminar “Histories of U.S. Orchestras.” When it came time to put the exhibit together, Katie thought my work on the course would prove useful in developing the narrative for the exhibit. It did.
Q: What drew you into the story of James Dixon (1928–2007)? A: Accessibility of, and advocacy for, public arts experiences are essential talking points in orchestral music right now. The Maestro gives us a lot to reflect on when thinking about both.
Dixon hints in some of his public remarks at frustration with the notion that an artist interested in a sustainable performance career must invest a certain amount of energy in what we today call their “personal brand.” Even though he had a New York Philharmonic conductor on proverbial speed dial, Dixon’s aversion to “selling himself,” cultivating the type of public following we now measure with social media accounts and the like, limited both the number and prestige of performance positions available to him. At the same time, orchestras were not an abstract public good to him. He operated at all times with a tangible vision of what his ensembles contributed to their respective communities and could speak very clearly and effectively about that.
James Dixon conducting the University of Iowa Symphony Orchestra, 1950s. James Dixon Papers [UA10028], University Archives, University of Iowa Libraries.
Q: What has curating this exhibit meant to you as both a scholar and musician? A: At its most personal to me, the exhibit is an ode to what I fear can get lost in conservatory-style music education. Long hours alone in a practice room can make it hard to feel enmeshed in a larger musical ecosystem. The rigors of this type of musical training can undermine a performer’s relationship with prospective listeners, and/or make attending a live performance as part of an audience into a chore.
Q: How did you approach your research in the archives? A: Throughout, I have organized my research for the exhibit around two core objectives: firstly, to introduce the broader public to the breadth of what is available in Dixon’s collected papers; and secondly, to trace the depth of Dixon’s roots in the local community. This often meant working in multiple directions simultaneously.
To be able to accomplish the first objective, I had to understand what was in the collection, and the only way to do that was to explore what I could while it was being processed. Work towards the second objective looked a lot like storyboarding. As I got to know the collection a bit better, I collected what fragments I could of the stories waiting to be told with the materials. I built up a holistic view of Dixion’s life and work as it relates to the lesser-known history of regional orchestras.
Newspaper article from the Times-Democrat, March 26, 1966. Davenport, Iowa. Newspapers Collection, State Historical Society of Iowa – Iowa City Research Center.
Q: Why is it important to have this exhibit in the Main Library Gallery? A: If the exhibit were not in the gallery, I wouldn’t have had the chance to collaborate with the amazing team that works there. I have learned more from Sara, Lauren, and the rest about public-facing scholarly work than I have from any number of papers, conference presentations, and seminars on the topic.
Q: What are some of the most surprising things you learned during your research for this project? A: I learned a lot about what a tragedy it is to lose local news. Papers in small communities like Guthrie Center had so many subtle yet significant ways of maintaining strong bonds among close-knit residents. For instance, a lot of the local newspaper announcements I found for concerts on the University of Iowa campus included the names of students who had grown up in the place of publication.
Q: What is your favorite object in the exhibit? A: “The Conductor’s Study,” which is more of a built environment than a singular object. It’s this element that allowed me to fully experience what the medium of exhibitions can accomplish that scholarly publication cannot.
Q: What do you hope visitors will take away from their time in Orchestrating Community? A: I expect the pictures of Dixon’s return to Guthrie Center with the University of Iowa Symphony Orchestra to personally resonate with a lot of visitors. If they weren’t a member of an ensemble performing in a gymnasium like the one pictured, or a guest at the type of school reception pictured, they likely know someone who was. I hope visitors take a moment as they enjoy all the exhibit has to offer to think about all the people and places they are connected to because of such community music experiences.
Co-curators Katie Buehner and Sarah Suhadolnik in “The Conductor’s Study” inside their Main Library Gallery exhibition. Photo: Krista Hershberger.
James Dixon conducting a Seventh Army Symphony rehearsal in Germany, 1953. James Dixon Papers, University Archives, University of Iowa Libraries.
Dixon was an Iowa native, and a longtime director of the University of Iowa Symphony Orchestra and the Quad City Symphony Orchestra. Curated by Assistant Professor of Instruction Sarah Suhadolnik from the UI School of Music and Rita Benton Music Library Director Katie Buehner, this exhibition explores Dixon’s adventurous international conducting career as well as his important impact on orchestras and musicians at home in Iowa.
The exhibition includes personal correspondences, photographs, artifacts, music scores, audio clips, and much more from the UI Libraries Special Collections and Archives and the Rita Benton Music Library that help tell the story of Dixon’s life and work. These materials and the stories shared by the curators also celebrate the ways in which orchestras of all sizes connect with their local communities.
“This is a story about Iowa and Iowans,” says co-curator Katie Buehner. “While many of the characters in the exhibit travel a great deal to other locations, their roots stay firmly in this community. This is also a story about music and how it brings people together.”
“Dixon operated at all times with a tangible vision of what his ensembles contributed to their respective communities,” says co-curator Sarah Suhadolnik. “I hope visitors will leave the exhibit with a better appreciation for the arts of all sorts as fundamentally collaborative undertakings.”
From the Orchestrating Community: The Public Service of Iowa Conductor James Dixon exhibition in the Main Library Gallery. Photo: Krista Hershberger.
The James Dixon Papers were recently donated to the UI Libraries by Carey Bostian and Miera Kim, close friends of Dixon. They are also leaders of and core musicians in local nonprofit organization Red Cedar Chamber Music.
Learn more about the exhibition, related events, and visiting hours at lib.uiowa.edu/gallery.
![Letter transcript:
THE WHITE HOUSE
WASHINGTON
July 29, 1935.
Dear Jay:—
As I was saying to the Acting Director of the Budget the other day—”this fellow Darling is the only man in history who got an appropriation through Congress, past the Budget and signed by the President without anybody realizing that the Treasury had been raided.”
You hold an all-time record. In addition to the six million dollars ($6,000,000) you got, the Federal Courts say that the United States Government has a perfect constitutional right to condemn millions of acres for the welfare, health and happiness of ducks, geese, sandpipers, owls and wrens, but has no constitutional right to condemn a few old tenaments [sic] in the slums for the health and happiness of the little boys and girls who will be our citizens of the next generation!
Nevertheless, more power to your arm! Go ahead with the six million dollars ($6,000,000) and talk with me about a month hence in regard to additional lands, if I have any more money left.
As ever yours,
President Roosevelt
Honorable J.N. Darling,
Bureau of Biological Survey,
South Building,
Washington, D.C.](http://blog.lib.uiowa.edu/gallery/files/2026/10/FDR-Letter-July-29_1935-825x1024.png)
