Lillian Gwenyth Jensen

I am a student at BYU, and I have completed a music minor, as of last semester. Because of this, I have spent a significant amount of time in the Harris Fine Arts Center on BYU campus. This building was where all my voice lessons, choir rehearsals, and performances were, along with many of my other music classes.

The HFAC has always had a special place in my heart. There are a couple of reasons for this. One is that it’s actually named after my great-great-grandfather, Franklin S. Harris. The other is that it’s been one of the most interesting and exciting places on BYU campus, since before I was even a student there. When my oldest brother was a freshman here, he was in the BYU Men’s Chorus, and the rest of my family drove down to Provo to see his concert. That was such an awesome experience, and I remember loving spending time in and around the HFAC. Since I’ve come to BYU, the HFAC has become a sanctuary of sorts. But as of February of this year, the HFAC is gone. In February, the university started demolition of the building, while the music students moved to a new music building, and the arts, drama, and design students have been moved to the old Provo High School.

The HFAC was a weird building. That was undeniable. But in my mind, that was a large part of the reason it was such a beloved building. It was certainly one of my favorite things about it. But despite its weirdness and maze-like floorplan, this building was the home of many a music, art, drama, or design student for nearly 60 years. I already miss the presence of this beautiful and strange building on campus, and even though us music students have the brand-new music building, it’s just not the same, and it never will be. There was so much history and character in the walls of the HFAC, and I hope that uniqueness is never forgotten.

I will truly miss this building. The De Jong concert hall, where I had most of my choir concerts, and some recording sessions. The Madsen recital hall, where I rehearsed with the BYU Women’s Chorus four times a week for half of my college experience. The beautiful atrium, with its mini art galleries and free concerts. The tiny, windowless practice rooms on the 2nd floor, where you could hear the talented people around you practicing their instruments. The strange hallways that led nowhere. The outdoor patios that served no apparent purpose but added to the building’s character. The windowless classrooms with blackboards equipped with pre-painted staff lines for music theory classes. All the mysterious parts that I never got to see. What a spectacular and strange and beautiful building.