Chronicle

Notes that
Reverberate

How skills introduced at Havergal became lifelong passions for four Old Girls/Alums.

Written by Tatum Dooley
Photography by Thomas Bollmann, Jennifer Roberts, Galit Rodan, and Mark Sommerfeld

LinkedIn
Facebook
feature_katie porter_4
Katie at Thomas Bollmann Ceramaics. Photography by Thomas Bollmann.
Katie Porter - HC tumblers
Katie Porter - pic
feature_katie porter_4

“It’s only clay and you can try again. It’s an apt saying that applies to so many things in life.”—Katie (Aird) Porter ’79

Katie (Aird) Porter ’79
Katie (Aird) Porter’s motto for working in pottery is simple: “It’s only clay, and you can try again.” It’s an apt saying that applies to so many things in life. When you’re throwing something on the pottery wheel, you don’t know exactly how it’ll turn out. For Katie, the end product isn’t as much the point as how it connects her to others.

Katie threw her first pottery on a wheel in Grade 13 at Havergal — an old-fashioned kick wheel in Mrs. Bermiller’s class. She’s loved pottery ever since: looking at it, making it and, most importantly, sharing it with others.

After a hiatus of a number of years, it was her children who brought her back to making pottery seriously. In 2007, after dropping off her son at school one day, she passed Creative Clay’s studio in Toronto and noticed deeply pigmented blue pots in the window. She signed up for night classes and hasn’t stopped since.

Katie’s designs often incorporate elements of the surrounding nature in Ontario, from the maple leaves of Georgian Bay to the stones and branches she finds on her property in Uxbridge. These nods to the local geography and objects create a physical connection to the ephemeral world around her.

For Katie, it’s not important to sell her wares. Instead, it’s about connecting with others and the journey the pottery will go on to live. For her daughter, Ayrlea Porter ’08 — also a Havergal grad — she made white speckled containers with sprouting pine trees planted in them for Ayrlea’s wedding guests to take home and plant. For her son Charlie’s recent wedding, she made fused-glass maple leaf dishes and the serving plates.

“They’ll have their own story with it,” says Katie. “A friend of mine, last week, I had done some mugs up for her, and she sent me a picture just a couple of days ago. She’s still using them. It’s nice to know that people appreciate it.”

Katie at Thomas Bollmann Ceramaics. Photography by Thomas Bollmann.

“They’ll have their own story with it. A friend of mine last week, I had done some mugs up for her, she’s still using it. It’s nice to know that people appreciate it.”—Katie (Aird) Porter ’79

Ola with her dog Virgil at her home in New York City.
Photography by Mark Sommerfield.

Ola Jacunski ’07
There are two sides to Ola Jacunski: an analytical one that thrives on logic, and a creative one that blooms with crafting fictional stories that resonate. As her day job, Jacunski works as a data scientist at the tech company Shopify. In her free time, she writes.

Ola’s goal is ambitious. She wants to write stories that connect to her audience to show them they’re not alone.

“There’s a lot of stuff that I’ve dealt with that stories have helped me with. I am hoping that the same things that I have struggled with, folks might be able to read and also have that moment of, I’m not alone, says Ola.

After completing a BA in biology and English literature from Columbia University, Ola went on to receive a PhD in computational biology. After that, in 2020, she returned to school once again to get an MFA in creative writing from the New School. Her love of writing, research and academia has its roots at Havergal.

“In Grade 12, we had the opportunity to complete an Independent Study Project for our English class. You get to pick any subject and write about it. And so I, as a ridiculous human, picked Freudian psychoanalysis and the evolution of the modern-day villain as my subject,” remembers Ola.

That early research shaped how she approaches storytelling today. Ola writes vivid speculative fiction, imbuing her short stories with otherworldly settings and science fiction themes. 

Ola explains how genre fiction can help get to deeper themes that resonate: “It’s sometimes easier to say things as a metaphor than it is to explain every single nuance. I think that sci-fi, fantasy and horror all allow for that, while also providing a sense of removal. There’s still emotion, but you can process it a little bit differently.”

There’s one story in particular that achieved this for Ola, opening up her world to the possibilities of what fiction can accomplish: Ken Liu’s, “The Paper Menagerie.” Ola remembers it being one of the first times she saw her own experience reflected in a story. The experience resonated and became one of the reasons she started khōréō, a magazine of science fiction by immigrant and diaspora writers.

Writing is often seen as a solitary pursuit. That’s not always the case. For Ola, she is connected to a community of like-minded writers. That was part of why she founded khōréō magazine — as a way to build a network of writers with shared experience with the power to connect with people who need their stories.

Photography by Mark Sommerfield.

“It’s sometimes easier to say things as a metaphor than it is to explain every single nuance. I think that sci-fi, fantasy, and horror all allow for that, while also providing a sense of removal. There’s still emotion, but you can process it a little bit differently.”—Ola Jacunski ’07

Melissa practice at Meridian Art Centre. Photography by Jennifer Roberts.

Melissa Cavelti ’90
Melissa Cavelti often stands out in an orchestra as one of the few women who play the double bass (a 2018 survey by the news website Quartz found that 95 per cent of full-time orchestra double bassists were men). That’s one of the benefits of attending an all-girls school — positions that are typically gendered are more evenly distributed. 

“At an all-girls school where those like-gendered lines didn’t matter as much, I don’t think, I’m the only girl bass player. I think, I’m one of the bass players, says Melissa. 

This outlook and confidence carried Melissa into her career on Bay Street in Toronto, where she led large teams of mostly men without a second thought. While she paused playing the bass during her tenure in finance, the focus, resilience, commitment and confidence that she learned from the bass remained constant companions.

Melissa (middle) first year playing bass at Havergal. Sabine Smith ’90 (left) holding the viola, Angelika Gollnow ’91 (front) with the freckles.

“Everybody was asking me to join different groups, so it broadened my social circle, and I started talking to people from different grades,” says Melissa. “Then I was band head, so I had that leadership position at Havergal. It really helped give me the confidence that I probably wouldn’t have had as a young girl,” she continues. 

The music director, Mrs. Muir played a central role in guiding Melissa toward the bass. After conducting an ear test to determine if students could hear if notes were in tune, it was discovered that Melissa had one of the best ear tests Mrs. Muir had ever conducted. So, in Grade 8, Melissa joined the string section. After a side quest playing the violin, the first time Cavelti heard the double bass being played, she knew she wanted to switch. 

“As soon as I heard it, I was like, ‘That is the best thing I’ve ever heard in my life.’ I love the vibrations. I love the low notes. From there, basically, I just became obsessed with it,” says Melissa.

“As soon as I heard it, I was like, ‘That is the best thing I’ve ever heard in my life.’ I love the vibrations. I love the low notes. From there, basically, I just became obsessed with it.”—Melissa Cavelti ’90

Now, Melissa has taken on another leadership role. Right before the pandemic, she joined Orchestra Toronto. She quickly realized that she was in a position where she could combine her love of playing the bass in an orchestra — an orchestra filled with volunteer musicians who rival professional ones — with her business and leadership skills. In 2023, Melissa became the Chair of the organization, implementing new changes such as auditions, mandatory rehearsals and fundraising goals.

For Melissa, the two roles aren’t too dissimilar. Both demand attention and commitment, something she’s willing to give her all to.

Photography by Jennifer Roberts.

“I was band head, so I had that leadership position at Havergal. It really helped give me the confidence that I probably wouldn’t have had as a young girl.”—Melissa Cavelti ’90

Clela performing at The Tranzac Club, Toronto.
Photography by Galit Rodan.

Clela Errington ’75

“There was a fantastic music director at Havergal. Elizabeth Muir basically developed the whole music program,” says Clela Errington, a singer-songwriter with four solo records under her belt. 

From carol services every Christmas to singing with the choir, music was a constant during Clela’s time at Havergal. As part of the choir, she had the opportunity to travel to France and the U.K. and even made two recordings. Upon graduating, Clela won a music prize that came along with beautifully bound songbooks. Since then, she hasn’t stopped singing, playing the guitar and writing music. 

Clela’s style is an eclectic mix of jazz, folk and the blues. This style traces her life trajectory from Havergal to Montreal, then hitchhiking to Prince Edward Island and afterwards studying jazz in Toronto. She combines all these musical influences and references at her current monthly residency at the Tranzac Club. 

On stage, it’s most often just Clela and her guitar. “There’s an expression about how your limitations can form your approach, and not necessarily a bad way. I’ve developed based on my limitations as a guitar player. You accept your limitations and your strengths and you just play to those,” she says.

These so-called limitations — whether it be minor stage fright or one’s level of guitar playing — push Clela creatively and culminate in a style of playing that is uniquely hers.

Clela didn’t record her first record until she was in her 40s, and since then, her records have tracked major life changes. The first record she recorded (other than the ones at Havergal) was at the end of her marriage, when she was in her 40s.

“All of a sudden, I felt like I had things to say. It was because of a big life change, where I felt like I had something to say. So I pursued writing material and making a record for the first time, but not until I was middle-aged. It rolled along, and the creative force came full on,” says Clela. “ I’ve just made a record, and it was 10 years ago that I made the last one.”

When Clela performs, it’s as if she’s relaying a message energetically. All else falls away, and she enters a flow state where it’s just her up on stage — translating a message to the audience with her song.

“There’s an expression about how your limitations can form your approach, and not necessarily in a bad way. I’ve developed based on my limitations as a guitar player. You accept your limitations and your strengths, and you just play to those.”—Clela Errington ’75

Photography by Galit Rodan.

More Profiles