The 2011 Project is a work by San Francisco artist Tofu. Each day in 2011 he created a 4”x4” mixed media piece. The finished project was made up of 365 smaller mixed media pieces. In 2013 the individual pieces will be distributed to project supporters. The project also acted as sketchbook for new ideas, which continue to be incorporated into new work For more information please visit 2011project.com
We’re listening out there high on the Plains of San Augustin in a remote corner of New Mexico. It’s the National Radio Astronomy Observatory or as it is more commonly know — the Very Large Array. The bright white dishes of the radio antennas are striking against the sky either New Mexico Blue or with storm clouds gathering. It’s a place where science has met art installation.
Have you ever gone to a new place that feels very familiar. A place you’ve never seen before, yet you feel you know it well. Maybe you have been there before, but not in your current lifetime.
It can happen when you’re by yourself. As you climb the trail to the top of the mesa at El Morro National Monument in New Mexico. You reach the top and catch your breath. It’s quiet and bright on top with that clear blue sky. A shade of blue that only happens in New Mexico. You start down the trail and all of a sudden, for just a minute, raindrops start to sprinkle down on you, just you. After that you have to sit down on a piece of sandstone. At first you might not even believe what just happened. After you compose yourself you wander around and see the ruins of the village now referred to as Atsinna. Only part of it is exposed and excavated on top of the mesa. It just feels all very familiar. You don’t try to explain it. You just end up coming back time and time again on every visit to New Mexico, the place you prefer to call The Holy Land.
A friend was posting his Chaco Canyon photos online recently. It was a reminder that I am due for another trip to the Holy Land (the place most people call New Mexico). Chaco Canyon is one of the most sacred sites in that part of the world. I first learned about the place from a documentary that still gets a lot of play on PBS. As soon as I saw the film, I wanted to go. Now I have been a few times. Simply put, it’s America’s Stonehenge — but that is a simple explanation. I’ve been to both places and Chaco Canyon is much more sophisticated. The astronomical observatory that was constructed at Chaco one thousand years ago is the most complex, pre-computer era observatory built — that we know of.
Chaco Canyon is a great technological accomplishment but it also a sacred space. For some visitors the experience is a straightforward set of Native American ruins. For other visitors, there is clearly more going on there. And you really have to want to go. It’s near Four Corners, far from most everything and includes the challenge of a long drive in on a dirt road. It’s that remoteness that makes the place accessible once you arrive. The crowds are sparse and you’re really allowed to explore. Each visit has been a new experience for me. And, when you’re tall like me and have to crawl through the narrow stone doorways, something might happen — you may even suddenly understand those reoccurring dreams you’ve been having for years.
"State of Green Chile" - mixed media on canvas, 4"x4"
It’s that time of the year in the Holy Land (aka New Mexico). The green chiles are being harvested and readied for roasting. There is nothing like that wonderful aroma of roasting chiles. It seems in every other strip mall parking lot in Albuquerque (okay I am exaggerating a bit), there is someone offering delicious, roasted green chiles. If I leave now, I could be there by the weekend….
On this day in 1947 the most famous UFO crash of the 20th Century happened out near Roswell, New Mexico. What happened afterwards? Is there an outer space version of AAA? Was a cell phone involved in the accident?
I did visit Roswell a few years back. I must say the souvenirs were lackluster and overpriced and the UFO Museum is cheesy, but just not cheesy enough. The freakiest scene in Roswell was at the all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet.
There is a Georgia as in the former Soviet Republic and there is Georgia in the South, but then there is the Land of Georgia as in Georgia O’Keeffe. New Mexico is the Land of Georgia, or as I prefer to call it, The Holy Land.
This week I bought a kid’s Georgia O’Keeffe art book at the dollar sale on the library steps. All but discarded, I could use it for collage without any guilt. Dissecting and repositioning pieces of her paintings is an interesting exercise in Art History. I quickly realized that in some ways, everything she painted was a landscape. You see it in the flowers you see it in the skulls.
Unfortunately I hear too many people dismiss Georgia O’Keeffe. Yes, her work is very popular. It’s also been over reproduced in the world of calendars and greeting cards. But you know why people love the work? It’s really good. It is a silly type of snobbery just to dismiss an artist solely because her work is popular. And if you know New Mexico, and you can’t be there at the moment, one of Georgia O’Keeffe’s paintings has the power to take you right back. You can feel the summer heat, sense the stillness and you and maybe you can even smell the smoke drifting across the state right now.
It sounds like the name of a short-lived Albuquerque new wave band circa 1983. Actually it was just inspired by a vintage, souvenir booklet with lurid, colorful images of scenic New Mexico.
Ironically, actual kodacrhome images have held up incredibly well. Slides from the 1950’s have retained stunning color. When they are scanned, they sometimes look like brand new digital images. A friend recently started posting scanned slides of his 1950’s childhood. The images look new. It’s another example of how popular photography technology keeps changing and how some of the older images hold up much better than photos from the 1960’s and beyond. The concern is to make sure our current digital images are properly stored. One of the biggest faults with digital photography is that we will lose the opportunity to find random old photos in boxes and scrapbooks in the future.
I thought I was so clever when I invented Enchilada Casserole. I decided to create something lasagna-like. I would use tortillas in place of lasagna noodles and enchilada sauce in place of tomato sauce. The cheese would be jack or cheddar instead of mozzarella. I titled my invention “New Mexico Lasagna.” I bragged to my friend Jordan about my invention. Jordan is from New Mexico and informed me that my “invention” was merely Enchilada Casserole. He went on to tell me that every potluck in New Mexico has at least three show up. Okay, I didn’t invent anything new, but what do they day about great minds thinking alike?
In some ways it’s not surprising that this has become a staple in my kitchen. It’s an American classic in a league with many of my favorites like Sloppy Joes, Tuna Casserole, Mac-n-Cheese and that New England “delicacy” American Chop Suey. As today’s art piece is drying and I write this, the pan of Enchilada Casserole is in the oven.
The Mission. In San Francisco it refers to the neighborhood but it cities and towns all over California and the Southwest, “The Mission” usually refers to the oldest church in town. We have one of course as well, in The Mission. Over the years I have visited most of them in California and many in between here and West Texas.
I have been to Carmel. It was resurrected from ruins and, while I am glad it was rebuilt, feels rather sterile and artificial. Nearby is Soledad. I went once and sadly, found adobe walls under tarps melting in a winter rain. Nearby is San Juan Bautista. It’s one of my favorites. I like the sense of years of continual usage and the historically preserved town. It remains a particular active church. A visit there inspired my Hometowns piece. One of my more significant works to date. I also love the ruins of the abandoned missions in New Mexico. They inspired another series of paintings. In New Mexico the Native Americans were far less welcoming of the Spanish missionaries.
Many of the missions have had towns grown around them like in San Luis Obispo and Santa Barbara. But I really like the more isolated missions for a more “authentic” experience. La Purisma is another favorite down near Lompoc. It’s one of only two California missions managed as a state park. It was well restored as a WPA project back in the 1930s.
On Saturday I was at the Oakland Museum. They currently have a large show of art from Missions in the U.S. and Mexico. And while I appreciate the opportunity to see all those bloody, bloody saints and scenes of martyrdom (including noses being sliced off – ewww!), it is not the same as experiencing the work in the missions. The dust, the smell of candles and incense, the inconsistent lighting all seem the way it is meant to experience the statues and paintings.
