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Michael Shall, 45, American Expert on Origami
Published: February 16, 1995
Michael Shall, a leading American expert in origami, the popular Japanese art of paper folding, died on Feb. 9 at New York University Medical Center. He was 45 and lived in Manhattan.
The youngest of three sons to whom Herman Shall taught the traditional Japanese art form, Michael Shall learned to create complicated objects like a dinosaur and a mother pushing a stroller, all fashioned from a single piece of paper.
Mr. Shall, raised in Carlisle, Pa., graduated from Lycoming College in Williamsport, Pa., and taught English in New Jersey high schools for four years before moving to Manhattan in 1974 to try to become the art's first full-time professional.
He studied and worked with Lillian Oppenheimer, who for generations had been the primary force in furthering the popularity of origami through a loosely organized group that she operated from her home, the Origami Center of America.
In 1980, he helped to found an affiliated group that is now called Origami, USA. The organization has grown to include more than 60 affiliate clubs across the country.
Mr. Shall taught at schools and museums, including the American Museum of Natural History, the Cooper-Hewitt Museum, the Museum of Modern Art and the Smithsonian Institution in Washington.
He was also a consultant to the National Geographic Society and the United States Committee for UNICEF. He was also well-known for designing origami Christmas trees. The best-known were "Paper Magic on Fifth Avenue" for Japan Airlines and "The Origami Holiday Tree" for the American Museum of Natural History.
In addition to his brother David, Mr. Shall is survived by his mother, Tillie Shall, of Winter Park, Fla.; a sister, Maxine Burkholder, of Media, Pa., and another brother, Donald, of Ann Arbor, Mich.
VIRGINA TANNER Michael Shall was my favorite teacher... amongst a few others. He challenged us not only to improve in school, but in our own lives.
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Carol Patko (1973)
Oh my god, that picture is exactly how I remember Mr. Shall, jumping on and off desks and sitting on the open window sill. He was my favorite teacher and the one I remember the most and will never forget. His antics in the classroom were unconventional and inspirational. He called me Phantom as I sat in the last seat in a row and every once in awhile would pop my head around the kid in front of me to answer a question.Carol Patko '73
Linda Sutton (Ping) (1973)
I remember Mr Shall fondly. I had him for Shakespeare and he made it very enjoyable. I remember the Christmas Party he had for a few of his students at his apartment in New Brunswick. He was definitely one of the more non traditional teachers and more liked by all his students. he will be missed dearly but his leagacy will and has followed him.Linda Sutton Ping
Class of 73
Karen Tkacik (Cimms) (1973)
Mr. Shall was the best teacher I ever had, and I will always remember him. I gained a true appreciation for literature, Shakespeare, and writing. One of the first things I did after becoming a professional writer, was conduct a search on the Internet for him, only to learn he had died. I was devastated.I will never forget his classroom antics: sitting on the windowsill, wearing his hair in a bun, the circle on the floor around the photo of "The general" (Barbra Streisand), and his story about how his brothers told him kissing a girl could make her pregnant.
I remember the party at his house where I won The Complete Works of Shakespeare as a door prize, and the trip to see MacBeth, and to Baskin Robbins, where he said none of us could order vanilla. I nearly sent him over the edge when I ordered vanilla fudge.
RIP Mr. Shall, you made an impression on so many of us, even though your time as a teacher was short.
Andrea Atkins (1985)
http://www.tnonline.com/2010/nov/13/teacher-who-challenged
A teacher who challenged
By KAREN CIMMS
kcimms@tnonline.com
I had the opportunity last weekend to visit my hometown. The anticipation of returning to where I grew up and went to school, and the chance to catch up with a few dear old friends, got me thinking about my high school days and in particular, about one of my favorite teachers.
Michael Shall was an odd little man. He was 21 years old when he began teaching at Franklin High School in Somerset, N.J. On his first day, he arrived with a wild mop of curly hair, eyes that sparkled devilishly when he smiled, a singed goatee and both hands bandaged up to his wrists. He explained to us, nervously, that he had moved into his first apartment a day earlier, and while trying to light the gas stove, caused a minor explosion.
My first impression: I thought he was kind of an idiot.
While that impression was lasting, he was definitely not an idiot.
He was different, that's for sure. On hot days, he pulled his hair into a ponytail on top of his head, and stuck a pencil in it. As he taught his English classes, he would often perch in unusual places around the room, including the windowsill of our second-floor classroom. We never took our eyes off him, waiting for him to plummet to his death; but, we heard every single word he said.
On one side of his room, he kept an enormous poster of Barbra Streisand, who we were to refer to as "The General." It took me years to figure that one out.
The more I studied under Mr. Shall, the more fascinating he became. He challenged and pushed us to levels beyond what we believed we were capable. He would tolerate nothing but the best and absolutely nothing mundane or pedestrian was allowed.
In my last two years of high school, English classes were divided into specialties. I had Mr. Shall for creative writing and Shakespearean studies.
One night he took our class to see "Macbeth," and afterward treated us all at a Baskin Robbins ice cream parlor. One rule: we could not order vanilla or chocolate ice cream. We had to mix it up, be creative, step out of our comfort zone!
I had vanilla fudge. He was frustrated that I found a way around his edict, but impressed with my spunk.
In class, he pushed me harder and harder, until I began to push myself. I can't recall what the specific assignment was for our Shakespearean studies class, but I will never forget my project. After weeks of research and hours of study at the Rutgers University Library, in my paper, I all but proved that Shakespeare did not write "The Taming of the Shrew."
I cannot recall any other paper I wrote in high school, but I will never forget that one the excitement of discovery following each lead; the thrill of learning while conducting research; the joy of putting my thoughts together into a conclusive argument to support my work. I got an A- on that paper. I still have it to this day.
That is when my love of writing and research began to soar, and when I took the first steps toward a career that would finally find me years later. I saw Mr. Shall a few times after I graduated. It was always a treat and he was as effervescent and over-the-top as always.
Years later, after I finally started my professional writing career, we got an Internet connection at home. As soon as I logged on, I did an online search for Michael Shall.
The first thing that popped up was a New York Times obituary: "Michael Shall, 45, American Expert on Origami."
Origami?
I checked the other items that came up, and I was disappointed all I could find was information on this origami expert. I finally read the obit, and the first few paragraphs had me convinced it wasn't him. Then I saw it: "taught English in New Jersey high schools for four years before moving to Manhattan in 1974 to try to become the art's first full-time professional."
It was Mr. Shall. He had followed his bliss, and in his abbreviated life, challenged himself to be the best, until AIDS extinguished that brilliant light.
Although his teaching stint barely got a mention in his obituary, for me, it was his greatest contribution, and I have to be grateful for those few years, because he challenged me to find my bliss.