New Mexico/TEXAS
April 7th – April 13
High and strange indeed, New Mexico is a NASA cowboy, Navajo
artist who lives in an adobe. I will miss this wonderful strange place where
the scientific future and the ancient past cross-pollinate in the land of
enchantment.
As I head out, I take in the transformation of spring on the
now blushing landscape. Shedding the mud color, everything is blooming rapidly
into green, yellows, and reds with the distant mountains of purple. New Mexico
is morphing into its other side from the monotone winter to every saturated hue
on the color wheel.
|
Heard Space? |
I launch American Bones road trip with one last stop in New
Mexico, the
Very Large Array, fondly known as the VLA… really. Apparently it
has been in countless movies but “Contact” is the only one that comes to mind.
As the world’s premier Radio Astronomy Observatory, it is listening to galactic
noise - like black holes. It’s science architecture that eavesdrops on the
Universe, our giant ears in an infinite café.
Exiting the highway, one drives another 30 minutes till coming
to an area where the satellite dishes start to appear. It’s as if they are all
listening in one direction while one or two are distracted and face another
direction. The landscape becomes surreal with these massive dishes in rows like
an orchard of robots. They are on huge tracks and have the ability to move 360
degrees. Surprisingly you can walk right up to them and take in their epic
proportions, as if you were in a pre 911-world. They remind me of Pixar’s
animated desk lamp and seem “cute” with collared faces looking into
space. They are inspiring as I can see their imagery as scientific
illustrations in a silkscreen, a block print and in photographs.
|
Reflection From the Control Room Window |
The VLA visitor center is dense with explanation and a
little over the geek top in regards to discussions of computer capacity for the
data crunching. The gift shop was not inspired either. This pains me to see
lousy graphics on mugs, key chains and mouse pads as well as T Shirts and other
unrelated knickknacks. This interest in gift shops will be a theme in the trip.
I am compulsively analyzing the missed opportunities in imagery, graphics and
the lack of local art in these places. I would love to change the fact that the
manufacturing of American souvenirs is made in China. More on that topic later.
Diesel is wilting from the heat and is eager to get into the
dark van and hold his muzzle to the window wind. We head south to the town,
Truth or Consequences. Yes, it is named after the show, but it is known as Spa City for the hot springs and Branson's
SpacePort America. Yes, you have to go to New Mexico to be a space tourist. I wonder if they have a gift shop...
Small and sweet, my favorite little restaurant
is called
Deli Belly. I have stopped here before and ate under the shade of a vine
trellis. The food is locally made and wonderful. The proprietor gave me a heads
up on
Marfa TX. She made sure I knew about the
Prada Store. A
collaboration of German artists built a one room Prada store and stocked it
with a few shoes and purses in the middle of the desert. I drove for another couple of hours and soon
forgot about the store and thought about the heat. It’s the kind of heat that
sandwiches you from above and from the sweltering ground. I see a building go past
with an awning I swear said Prada. I stop and turn around on the spot. There is
a door but it does not open. It has lights that go on at night but there is no
one there. It's is 194 miles south of El Paso, close to the hostage taking town
of Juarez, Mexico. There is nothing there.
A luxury store in the wilderness is a statement on perceptions of
value; well that is my take away.
I love it and see grant funded
art installed in the wilderness,
as its own statement on
value. Public art will be another theme in my travels.
It's time for the photo
shoot, it is a luxury
goods store after all. I think I’m appropriately dressed in a
little black dress with cowboy boots. Diesel lurks his lithe body around the store with his hound nose
to the ground and Foxy has the right hue but still manages to ruin the neighborhood. My only company is
the train going by about 100 yards away. The engineer blows his lonesome
whistle
as I wave and he responds with a luxurious long note.
|
Foxy Prada Brown |
|
Diesel vs Prada |
|
I'm Prada Myself |
Now I will be late getting to my tour and there are no refunds
for my “
block tour” for ex New Yorker, architect and sculptor,
Donald Judd’sStudio and living space. I get to town and no one is there at the Judd offices.
He bought half the town, so it’s hard to know exactly which building is
actually the right location. I go across to the hotel to get directions, and
the man tells me where to go for the block tour. I meet a crowd of folks that
that are standing outside these massive oak doors to the Judd compound. This
beautiful woman says we have been waiting for you. I apologize profusely for
being late and thank them for waiting for me. She is wearing hounds tooth gym
shorts made of silk with a silk butterfly top. Her skin is cocoa and her black
hair is thick wavy corkscrews down past her shoulders. She is dewy sweet and of
Creole descent with super- model possibility. Her escort is this handsome
African American man with cotton Capri pants, and sporting light blue
espadrilles. The four other young people are all from New Orleans and are architectural
students with an interest in Donald Judd’s life work. They gather around me
with such eagerness that I’m taken back a bit. I look into their faces and ask,
“Who is the
guide?”
“Why, you’re
not?” Blurts out a young architect.
After we clear up the fact, I am not the tour guide, and all these folks have
not been waiting for me, but for someone to open the gates. It dawns on me this
is it, I have just driven 5 hours to get to this tour of the abode of an
esteemed sculptor, installation artist and architect for nothing. I am
crestfallen as its Sunday night and nothing else art related in town is open
till Wednesday.
The beautiful Creole woman mentions the fact her friend told
her to go to the bookstore in town, as Tim knows everyone. All agree that
might be the best and only idea we have. Walking the three blocks in this
tiny ranching town and I learn my new friend is
Beyoncé’s sister,
Solange. Well, that explains the fabulous bone structure. We all pile into
Tim’s bookstore and it is an uber hip architectural bookstore with thousands of
ways I could spend my money. Here we are in a one-horse town, filled with
ranchers, celebrities, architects and New Yorkers. Where I am I? True to his
reputation, Tim puts a call in and we get a guide with keys to the massive oak
doors and start our “Block Tour”.
Behind the cement block walls is a hundred feet of gravel
interrupted by a perfect rectangle concrete pool on the left. Alongside the
pool runs a custom-built picnic table fit for twenty under a modern trellis of
vines. There are two huge warehouses on the right and directly across the span
of gravel is a U shaped wall that runs along the outer wall but slopes down to
throw the horizon off. Our guide tells us that Judd came here from New York to
ensure that his sculptures and installations would be permanently installed and
viewed exactly as he intended. Lucky for him, his reputation has enough pull to
make Marfa a destination for the culturally literate and elite. So much so, you
can eat a five star very expensive dinner at one of the many fine dining
establishments in town. We tour his workshops and his living quarters (there
are many, including the bank in town). He has a library in one of these
warehouses and he seems to have so many interests that a Dewy Decimal System
seems appropriate here. Every space has a wooden framed futon-like couch bed
and it always faces the wall. He loved to entertain guests and these would be
the guest rooms, cavernous spaces with steel, wood and books for company.
|
Looking Back to the Entrance of Donald Judd's Block Residence |
We are not allowed to take pictures but I got one off
looking back at the entrance and a view of his customized Jeep.
The environment
he created reminds me of the Bay Area artist, David Ireland. Here, space, form,
light and materials create an effect that can be dictated to conform to merging living working spaces. Judd started this project of living in and among his creations
in the 60’s, and there are parts of his live/work spaces that are extremely
contemporary today. We now value the open-air plan so much that our kitchens in
our houses now conform to it. He truly lived in the refined air that surrounded
and define his sculptures and architectural dalliances.
We wrap up the tour and thank our guide, who couldn’t stop
staring at our in-house celebrity. He was a doll and I forgot his name but he lived
only a block away from the “Block”.
I found myself later at
“Planet Marfa” a
sweet little local hangout outdoor bar. It had a sunken Tepee that held a crowd
of drinkers. I ordered from the bar menu the chips/salsa and a hotdog. My waitress/owner and chef, looked like Andrew Wyeth’s
lover and muse,
Helga; she had long Germanic braids and she cooed over Diesel.
Then Tom walked in, a huge white handlebar mustache,
a bigger white cowboy hat and just wanted to drawl with a doll. Super sweet, he
didn’t think much of the architect in town but he liked the movies that came
through. Apparently
Johnny Depp was in town, just in from New Mexico. Hope Johnny Depp and I's paths will cross again someday. Our Helga was dropping off oil
lanterns as the light was fading, and I asked Tom if I could take his picture.
|
Marfa Rancher Tom |
Tom was my only
portrait I took in Marfa. I’m just getting the hang of this. Helga and Solange were a
pleasure to meet and a missed opportunity. Talk about Foxy Prada Brown, Solange was it.
Headed out of town that night and slept at a truck stop.
Crossing the Hill Country of Texas the next day, with a three-day stint in Austin.