Poster Density
nonfiction // music
There is a place, hidden in plain sight. Chances are, if you attend or have attended West Virginia University, you have walked by it. Nestled deep inside the student union, there lies a wall of glass, and on the glass the U92 logo proudly rests. This is the college radio station; the source of Morgantown’s only alternative programming, and more importantly: one of my many homes.
Open the glass door, and you’ll find yourself in a room surrounded by three walls of rusted red brick. Music posters are lined up neatly on the walls, and at the right lies another glass door to a small recording studio, which usually lies empty. If you’re not a staff member, the lady at the desk, Darlene, will probably ask what you need. If you are a staff member however, you’ll probably just walk by her, choosing to saying hello or not depending on how you feel about her presence. Once you get past Darlene, there is an intermediary room that connects to another recording studio. More posters outfit the walls, this time a little less evenly.
Moving onto the next room, you’ll find yourself in the main area of the station. Depending on the time your enter, you’ll find a few people hanging around (usually sports staff). There was a time when DJs took up every available seat, but after the strike, the station lies colder and emptier than usual. The music posters are outta control by this point, and in most spots you can hardly see the wall. Sections of the wall are dedicated to the news staff and sports staff, but the biggest pinboard belongs to the DJ staff. Sign-up sheets for dozens of specialty shows are tacked on. Take a closer look and you’ll find many repeated names: Trevor, Ed, Victor, Kate, and so on. The station has a painfully low amount of DJs, and the ones that are there work tirelessly to keep the airwaves interesting.
From this room, you have three different doorways. The most important is completely covered in stickers from various artists and record labels. In the top right, the extremely missable “Studio A” label blends in with all of the visual noise. Enter the doorway and you’ll find yourself in the DJ booth, where the music and transmitters are controlled from. The lighting is dim and colorful, and on the back wall lies a vast shelf packed with CDs that were once in rotation. Across from the shelf, the controls for the station sit next to two seperate record players. Large speakers hang from the ceiling, and in between lies a window to “Studio B”, the place where sports and news staff do their segments. It’s a painfully sterile and boring room.
Going back to the main room, there lies one more doorway, to the deepest part of the station. The desks of the music, assistant music, and program directors lie there. Poster and sticker wise, it has the highest density of the station. going There is a door to a CD archive that contains pictures of some former and current staff, as well as various musicians titled “The Door of Babes”. Finally there is a hallway that leads to the back entrance, a bathroom, and another vinyl/CD archive.