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Greystone Theatre - "A Doctor In Spite of Himself"

Murray Edwards (left), Frances Hyland, and two students in costume pose in front of a forest themed backdrop.

Bio/Historical Note: Frances Jean Hyland was born in 1927 in Shaunavon, Saskatchewan. She was raised by her mother's family in Ogema, Saskatchewan. Her mother put herself through teacher's college to support her daughter's acting career. Hyland graduated in 1948 from the University of Saskatchewan with a BA in English. She earned a scholarship to and graduated from the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in London. After graduation Hyland made her professional debut in London in 1950, as Stella in A Streetcar Named Desire. In 1954 she returned to Canada to perform as Isabella in the Stratford Festival production of Shakespeare's Measure for Measure. She became a regular at the festival, performing in ten seasons. Her roles there included Isabella (in Measure for Measure), Portia (in The Merchant of Venice), Olivia (in Twelfth Night), Perdita (in The Winter's Tale), Desdemona (in Othello) and Ophelia in (in Hamlet). Hyland directed the Stratford Festival's 1979 production of Othello. She also performed with the Shaw Festival and on Broadway (opposite Tony Perkins in Look Homeward, Angel). On television Hyland co-starred on The Albertans and played Nanny Louisa on Road to Avonlea. Hyland was considered a champion of Canadian actors' campaign for higher status and pay. In 1970 Hyland was appointed an Officer of the Order of Canada. In 1994, Hyland received the Governor General's Performing Arts Award, Canada's highest honour in the performing arts, for her lifetime contribution to Canadian theatre. Frances Hyland died of respiratory failure following surgery in 2004.

Department of Chemistry - Theatre

Students sitting in the Chemistry Lecture Hall, Room 271, also known as the airplane room.

Bio/Historical Note: The most enduring legend surrounding the Chemistry Building states that the paper airplanes lodged in the 68-foot domed ceiling of Thorvaldson Room 271 were flung there by Second World War pilots-in-training. When the pilots went to war, the legend says, their family members would periodically visit the Airplane Room—as it became known—to see if their loved one’s plane remained stuck. If a plane fell from the ceiling, it meant that the man who put it there would not be coming home. Wartime pilots did receive training at the U of S campus through cadet programs and the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan, although there is no record as to whether they trained in Room 271, now called the Henry Taube Lecture Theatre. The University Air Training Corps was one of the military training units located on campus during the Second World War. This 1944 yearbook photo shows cadets training in an unspecified classroom. (University Publications, Greystone 1944)
For many years, students have attached messages or objects to paper planes and flung them up to the ceiling, where the planes stick in the material lining the dome. Student graffiti on the wooden desks of Room 271 dates back as far as 1933, but the paper airplanes are a different story. During the removal of asbestos from the ceiling in 1995, the original planes were taken down. Wayne Eyre, editor of On Campus News at the time, carefully unfolded each of the 366 airplanes but found nothing relating to the war; instead he just found what he calls “a lot of pranky and dopey comments.” The oldest date written on any plane was 1961. Other planes appeared older as they were brittle and yellow with age, but lacked dates.

Department of Chemistry - Theatre

Image of students sitting in the Chemistry Lecture Hall, Room 271, also known as the airplane room.

Bio/Historical Note: The most enduring legend surrounding the Chemistry Building states that the paper airplanes lodged in the 68-foot domed ceiling of Thorvaldson Room 271 were flung there by Second World War pilots-in-training. When the pilots went to war, the legend says, their family members would periodically visit the Airplane Room—as it became known—to see if their loved one’s plane remained stuck. If a plane fell from the ceiling, it meant that the man who put it there would not be coming home. Wartime pilots did receive training at the U of S through cadet programs and the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan, although there is no record as to whether they trained in Room 271, now called the Henry Taube Lecture Theatre. The University Air Training Corps was one of the military training units located on campus during the Second World War. This 1944 yearbook photo shows cadets training in an unspecified classroom. (University Publications, Greystone 1944)
For many years, students have attached messages or objects to paper planes and flung them up to the ceiling, where the planes stick in the material lining the dome. Student graffiti on the wooden desks of Room 271 dates back as far as 1933, but the paper airplanes are a different story. During the removal of asbestos from the ceiling in 1995, the original planes were taken down. Wayne Eyre, editor of On Campus News at the time, carefully unfolded each of the 366 airplanes but found nothing relating to the war; instead he just found what he calls “a lot of pranky and dopey comments.” The oldest date written on any plane was 1961. Other planes appeared older as they were brittle and yellow with age, but lacked dates.

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