Friends Remember Brien Battiste as Passionate Intellectual

Brien Battiste—described as skilled guitarist, hungry intellectual, devoted friend, and even underground journalist—defies simple categorization. In light of his recent passing, friends have shared memories that are duly reflective of a multifaceted character who lived life with passion.

Battiste, an Adams House resident in the class of 2010, took his own life in his Boston apartment last Friday, just weeks after he had moved in, his friends confirmed.

The 22-year-old economics concentrator—who arrived at Harvard in the fall of 2006—took a health leave in December 2008 and returned to campus briefly the following fall. At Harvard, Battiste immersed himself in the arts, impressing those around him with his hybrid of intelligence and integrity.

“Surrounded by the users, social-climbers and name-droppers of Harvard, Brien’s moral aptitude was a blessing to all who knew him,” wrote Harry T. Rimalower ’10, one of the directors of Ivory Tower, in a message to The Crimson. “Armed with an encyclopedic knowledge of philosophy and the latest in psychologic research, Brien’s sense of right and wrong was a compass to me.”

His sophomore year, Battiste became involved in the production of Ivory Tower, Harvard’s online soap opera series. Battiste produced and acted for part of a season, and worked as the business chair for the production.

“He was committed to pretty much everything he did,” said Steven J. DeMarco, an Extension School graduate who starred in that season’s run. He recalled Battiste’s diligence in editing the score for a film co-produced by DeMarco: “He stayed up for three days straight in Hilles, and he put everything else aside.”

“He didn’t harbor any resentments and prejudices against anybody,” DeMarco added. “He always brought life and energy and vitality to every situation.”

At Big Bear High School in California, Battiste served as student body president—after campaigning under the slogan “Vote Red,” in reference to his hair color—and invited motivational speakers to address students, effectively “changing the culture of the school, making it a more positive spot,” said Big Bear teacher Michael A. Harrison.

“I don’t think Brien really understood the impact he had on people,” said Harrison, who mentored the student throughout his high school career. “I understood the impact he had on the people around him—I wish he understood how important he was to others.”

Harrison, who taught Battiste in English class his sophomore year, said that he gave the student more difficult work than the others because Battiste was “just operating in a different realm.” He required “intellectual stimulation in any arena” and thirsted to know everything, said Harrison, adding that the student’s hyper-intelligence often translated into bluntness.

“He was kind of a double-edged sword: he could be incredibly inspiring, helpful, and kind, but other people might have experienced him in a different way,” Harrison said. “He could be a little caustic, a little direct, and he could challenge people.”

During his senior year of high school, Battiste began an underground newspaper called The Captain’s Log—a “huge hit” that featured “pirate-themed satirical news,” according to the paper’s co-founder Chris Gromek, who said he was surprised that the enterprise had not gotten the pair expelled from school.

“The administration officially didn’t condone it, but they all secretly read it and loved it,” Gromek wrote in a message to The Crimson. “Brien used to carry around an ACLU [American Civil Liberties Union] card in his pocket and wave it around anytime someone said we couldn’t print that sort of stuff.”

High school friend Brett M. Croxton—who remembers late night excursions to Denny’s and games of Risk with his friend—said that Battiste possessed a remarkable capacity for learning. After all, he was once able to make a 100-foot jump while skiing in Oregon, landing a back flip like a professional, Croxton recalled.

Yet another point of mastery for Battiste was the guitar. After just one year of instruction under Harrison, then-high school junior Battiste signed himself up to compete in the battle of the bands, and went on to actually win the competition the next year. Battiste’s performance inspired Harrison—who had played the guitar for many years but never performed for a crowd—to conquer his fear of playing in public.

“He really used it to express himself and his emotions,” DeMarco said of Battiste’s love for the guitar, adding that Battiste—who had stayed with DeMarco for a few months in the past year—would wake up and play throughout the day until 2 a.m.

Adding to his list of accomplishments, Battiste was on the Board of Directors of SolSolution, a non-profit organization that seeks to generate sustainable solutions for renewable energy. Battiste organized the capital accumulation campaign and contributed to the group’s strategic planning as a volunteer, according to the organization’s website.

“Brien was so inspiring to me and really passionate about making our world better,” said Soren D. Harrison, founder and chief executive officer of SolSolution. Battiste worked for the organization for more than a year during his time at Harvard, but dropped off in his involvement in 2009.

“No matter what life throws at you, you can achieve really great success,” Harrison said, recalling the day that Battiste learned he had gotten accepted into Harvard, his dream school. “That’s what’s so disappointing and [why I’m] angry about his death is that he didn’t really get to achieve what he wanted to.”

“It’s hard to relate how deeply I miss Brien and what a huge hole he’s left in a lot of people’s lives,” Gromek wrote. “For me in particular, it was like losing a brother.”

—Staff writer Xi Yu can be reached at xyu@college.harvard.edu.