Thanks for the shout-out, Bill. Never in our dreams did we think we would be compared to Lucille Ball and Sacha Baron Cohen. Couldn't be more honored.
Sincerely, Nancy & Jacinda
P.S. Just wait until Amarillo Ramp!
Monday, July 6, 2009
I Love Lucy Meets Borat
Thanks for the shout-out, Bill. Never in our dreams did we think we would be compared to Lucille Ball and Sacha Baron Cohen. Couldn't be more honored.
Sincerely, Nancy & Jacinda
P.S. Just wait until Amarillo Ramp!
La la la la Fonda (what we were saving for)
As you might note, we've been staying in some dives (minus Las Vegas and Flagstaff) for very reasonable rates. Then along came the big splurge: La Fonda in Santa Fe.
The pool.... now imagine a man with a rope around his waist that was attached to the hand rail, swimming in place for 30 plus minutes, splashing fiercely while hogging the whole pool. We had a very nice view of this activity from our hotel window. One morning we did manage to jump in (before the sun officially warmed it up) and then hopped directly into the hot tub without anyone in sight (except perhaps for the people watching us behind their windows). Here we recreated a group of men we saw walking around in their white hotel robes at the pool in the Venetian, Las Vegas.
Half of room 145 featuring Nancy working on the blog.
The pretty, yellow tiled bathroom with the world's shortest shower head obviously not meant for anyone taller than 5'.
The pool.... now imagine a man with a rope around his waist that was attached to the hand rail, swimming in place for 30 plus minutes, splashing fiercely while hogging the whole pool. We had a very nice view of this activity from our hotel window. One morning we did manage to jump in (before the sun officially warmed it up) and then hopped directly into the hot tub without anyone in sight (except perhaps for the people watching us behind their windows). Here we recreated a group of men we saw walking around in their white hotel robes at the pool in the Venetian, Las Vegas.
Half of room 145 featuring Nancy working on the blog.
The pretty, yellow tiled bathroom with the world's shortest shower head obviously not meant for anyone taller than 5'.
SITE Santa Fe
We tried to take one day off yesterday, pretending we weren't working and were actually on vacation. This meant jumping in the swimming pool and hot tub at La Fonda, doing laundry, visiting SITE Santa Fe, and seeing Public Enemies in a packed theater.
I've never been disappointed at an exhibition at SITE Santa Fe and the current showing of Klara Kristalova, Ruben Ochoa, and Brent Green proved to be no exception. Nancy and I both agreed that Klara Kristalova's giant chest of drawers displaying several of her fairy tale-esque, Kiki Smith influenced sculptures was a highlight.
We also couldn't stop comparing Brent Green's installation Dim Light, Eulogy for Thomas Edison, to things that we have seen on this road trip. For instance, his use of text is much like the way the words formed from rocks at the Bonneville Salt Flats dissipate once they become encrusted with salt.
Purchasing a souvenir art book (or three) was also in order as Nancy and I both walked away with a small handful we couldn't live without.
AND we saved over $200 by doing our laundry at the coin-op rather than our hotel.
I've never been disappointed at an exhibition at SITE Santa Fe and the current showing of Klara Kristalova, Ruben Ochoa, and Brent Green proved to be no exception. Nancy and I both agreed that Klara Kristalova's giant chest of drawers displaying several of her fairy tale-esque, Kiki Smith influenced sculptures was a highlight.
We also couldn't stop comparing Brent Green's installation Dim Light, Eulogy for Thomas Edison, to things that we have seen on this road trip. For instance, his use of text is much like the way the words formed from rocks at the Bonneville Salt Flats dissipate once they become encrusted with salt.
Purchasing a souvenir art book (or three) was also in order as Nancy and I both walked away with a small handful we couldn't live without.
AND we saved over $200 by doing our laundry at the coin-op rather than our hotel.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
PINK PAINT FROM WAL-MART AND SUPPLIES FROM HOME DEPOT
Dennis, our guide with a great sense of humor, pointed out the pink paint from Wal-Mart that we see in the church is a mere recreation of the original adobe color (one of my personal favorites, a light shade of salmon.) Surrounded by rainbows and corn, I felt the group should have been our our knees praying for rain. Or perhaps they should put the confessional back in use and charge the tourists to have a religious experience, I would have paid for that. We also thought they should charge for interior walk throughs instead of the same'ol pottery they've been making for the last two thousand years. Seen it (it is beautiful, but expensive!). There were over 12 vendor tables with local pottery and only one fry bread station ($2.00).
Acoma Pueblo/Sky City, New Mexico
The closest we were able to get to the interior space of Acoma.
Fifteen families live in the pueblo year round. There is no running water or electricity. They create their artwork in the day time because they only have oil burning lamps for the night.
Who would have thought, the Acoma give their chicken wings to the dogs?
More on Lightning Field
Gallup, NM is hardly worth mentioning but let’s just say we had a bad motel experience which featured multiple phone calls, yelling, eventually getting a refund and moving to a new motel at 11:30 PM. The new place had Wifi (the aforementioned place did not) but was so loud that sleep was minimal.
After leaving Gallup as early as we could, we were so far ahead of schedule that we detoured through the town of Zuni after marveling at how many random men were sitting alongside the freeway since leaving Gallup (we later learned that because it was the 2nd day of the month, they received their paychecks and were waiting for a ride to town to spend it on who knows what). Just in case we thought Gallup was a dive, Zuni proved itself to be in even more decline. It smelled like burned bread and we were sure it came from some of the mud ovens that were featured in nearly every yard. Dogs were on the loose and Nancy had to drive slowly (!) to avoid hitting some. I was fascinated by the sheer size of the elementary school, the tiny middle school, and the even smaller high school, certainly commenting on the graduation rates.
Quemado is a cute town though we didn’t get past Dia’s office and the café next to it that served Nancy an amazing slice of peach pie. Nancy donned her suit for the first time this trip with the briefcase full of glitter confetti, representing an idea we have commented on frequently this whole trip – money buys access to all these earthworks and had we been a patron of James Turrell, we most likely would have had a tour.
Robert, the caretaker of Lightning Field for the last 30 years, did not take us out to the earthwork – instead his sister Tommy drove us. Nancy recorded several of our conversations while making a map in the backseat – one of the best yet on this road trip. We arrived with the sky partly cloudy and the poles barely visible around 2 PM – Tommy had to point them out to us despite me looking hard for them in the distance for several miles.
As soon as Tommy gave us the grand tour and drove off before any sign of rain, we walked out beyond the first couple rows of poles, buried the cat box from New Zealand whose paint had chipped beyond recognition, and snapped two Polaroids. Nancy and I each took naps to make up for the previous evening of very little sleep. Afterwards, I started walking to the east following a well-traveled path looking to fill the nesting box (which ultimately eased my sanity in avoiding rattlesnakes by shaking it nearly the whole way).
I had several epiphanies while walking… I kept thinking about Marina and Ulay walking the Great Wall of China imagining if Nancy started on the other side, where would we ultimately meet? The desire to walk around the whole piece became a necessity as soon as I reached the NE corner. I wanted to understand the scale and sheer size – what 220’ between each pole meant, what it felt like to not be able to count how many poles lay ahead because they kept getting lost in the landscape, etc. I charged ahead, rattling my box, only to stop when I saw a large depression near the eastern perimeter. When climbing down, the cabin disappeared and I was most fascinated by the couple poles that were positioned there amidst the flat earth.
Animal feces – cow, antelope, and rabbit – covered the ground and the terrain changed several times. I remember the art history books talking about how the earth was not even but little did I imagine sage turning into grass, areas of smooth dirt with large anthills protruding toward the sky, deep rabbit holes, and blooming cacti. The poles along each corner resemble a path made around a tether ball pole. I was also impressed with how the sharpened points looked sinister in front of the cloudy sky. The reflections and how the light changed the poles as it fell further toward the horizon made me understand why one had to be here to experience it rather than rely on photographs.
Nancy and I eventually met near the NW corner to see a cloudy horizon toward the north. The sky turned darker and darker until it covered the cabin, eventually producing lightning and thunder which we watched on the back porch for over two hours. The anticipation was tremendous and there were a few strikes that I will never forget (one struck four poles in one blow and another featured the most intense vertical light, striking two posts side by side). Finally, we were cold and the darkness followed by bright light proved to be overwhelming. Dessert and tea on the dining room table and rehashing the day’s events proved to be a perfect ending to an unbelievable day. If we had to go through Gallup to get to this point, it was worth every penny.
Robert picked us up promptly at 11 AM the next morning. He tried to recruit us to be cowboys on his ranch (we deduced Nancy would be perfect for the job) and joined us for a slice of pie at the cafe before we headed to the Acoma Pueblo. He talked about his experiences as the Lighting Field caretaker, what it was like to visit James Turrell's Roden Crater four years ago, and going to NY for the first time - visiting a DeMaria exhibition at Dia Beacon. Nancy and I told him we would be repeat customers and cannot wait to reserve 3rd July 2010 for another visit (this time bringing four of our friends to share the experience).
A couple days later…
Sound is such an important factor at Lightning Field. Trying to distinguish between airplanes flying overhead or thunder in the distance was my first clue that I should be paying attention to what I was hearing. I was very surprised to hear frogs in the rain and realized the next morning that the desert was full of my favorite horned toads (I love them because they look prehistoric). None of the earthworks have been silent experiences whether we are listening to insects or birds chirping or voices in the distance. Lighting Field is the most remote of all five we’ve seen so far and it was by far the noisiest. Equally amazing is how I could not hear Nancy yelling my name from her location in the center of the artwork and my presence on the perimeter. I keep asking myself if it was because I was so immersed in my thoughts but Nancy thinks not. The moment she called my name, her voice fell flat in the desert expanse.
After leaving Gallup as early as we could, we were so far ahead of schedule that we detoured through the town of Zuni after marveling at how many random men were sitting alongside the freeway since leaving Gallup (we later learned that because it was the 2nd day of the month, they received their paychecks and were waiting for a ride to town to spend it on who knows what). Just in case we thought Gallup was a dive, Zuni proved itself to be in even more decline. It smelled like burned bread and we were sure it came from some of the mud ovens that were featured in nearly every yard. Dogs were on the loose and Nancy had to drive slowly (!) to avoid hitting some. I was fascinated by the sheer size of the elementary school, the tiny middle school, and the even smaller high school, certainly commenting on the graduation rates.
Quemado is a cute town though we didn’t get past Dia’s office and the café next to it that served Nancy an amazing slice of peach pie. Nancy donned her suit for the first time this trip with the briefcase full of glitter confetti, representing an idea we have commented on frequently this whole trip – money buys access to all these earthworks and had we been a patron of James Turrell, we most likely would have had a tour.
Robert, the caretaker of Lightning Field for the last 30 years, did not take us out to the earthwork – instead his sister Tommy drove us. Nancy recorded several of our conversations while making a map in the backseat – one of the best yet on this road trip. We arrived with the sky partly cloudy and the poles barely visible around 2 PM – Tommy had to point them out to us despite me looking hard for them in the distance for several miles.
As soon as Tommy gave us the grand tour and drove off before any sign of rain, we walked out beyond the first couple rows of poles, buried the cat box from New Zealand whose paint had chipped beyond recognition, and snapped two Polaroids. Nancy and I each took naps to make up for the previous evening of very little sleep. Afterwards, I started walking to the east following a well-traveled path looking to fill the nesting box (which ultimately eased my sanity in avoiding rattlesnakes by shaking it nearly the whole way).
I had several epiphanies while walking… I kept thinking about Marina and Ulay walking the Great Wall of China imagining if Nancy started on the other side, where would we ultimately meet? The desire to walk around the whole piece became a necessity as soon as I reached the NE corner. I wanted to understand the scale and sheer size – what 220’ between each pole meant, what it felt like to not be able to count how many poles lay ahead because they kept getting lost in the landscape, etc. I charged ahead, rattling my box, only to stop when I saw a large depression near the eastern perimeter. When climbing down, the cabin disappeared and I was most fascinated by the couple poles that were positioned there amidst the flat earth.
Animal feces – cow, antelope, and rabbit – covered the ground and the terrain changed several times. I remember the art history books talking about how the earth was not even but little did I imagine sage turning into grass, areas of smooth dirt with large anthills protruding toward the sky, deep rabbit holes, and blooming cacti. The poles along each corner resemble a path made around a tether ball pole. I was also impressed with how the sharpened points looked sinister in front of the cloudy sky. The reflections and how the light changed the poles as it fell further toward the horizon made me understand why one had to be here to experience it rather than rely on photographs.
Nancy and I eventually met near the NW corner to see a cloudy horizon toward the north. The sky turned darker and darker until it covered the cabin, eventually producing lightning and thunder which we watched on the back porch for over two hours. The anticipation was tremendous and there were a few strikes that I will never forget (one struck four poles in one blow and another featured the most intense vertical light, striking two posts side by side). Finally, we were cold and the darkness followed by bright light proved to be overwhelming. Dessert and tea on the dining room table and rehashing the day’s events proved to be a perfect ending to an unbelievable day. If we had to go through Gallup to get to this point, it was worth every penny.
Robert picked us up promptly at 11 AM the next morning. He tried to recruit us to be cowboys on his ranch (we deduced Nancy would be perfect for the job) and joined us for a slice of pie at the cafe before we headed to the Acoma Pueblo. He talked about his experiences as the Lighting Field caretaker, what it was like to visit James Turrell's Roden Crater four years ago, and going to NY for the first time - visiting a DeMaria exhibition at Dia Beacon. Nancy and I told him we would be repeat customers and cannot wait to reserve 3rd July 2010 for another visit (this time bringing four of our friends to share the experience).
A couple days later…
Sound is such an important factor at Lightning Field. Trying to distinguish between airplanes flying overhead or thunder in the distance was my first clue that I should be paying attention to what I was hearing. I was very surprised to hear frogs in the rain and realized the next morning that the desert was full of my favorite horned toads (I love them because they look prehistoric). None of the earthworks have been silent experiences whether we are listening to insects or birds chirping or voices in the distance. Lighting Field is the most remote of all five we’ve seen so far and it was by far the noisiest. Equally amazing is how I could not hear Nancy yelling my name from her location in the center of the artwork and my presence on the perimeter. I keep asking myself if it was because I was so immersed in my thoughts but Nancy thinks not. The moment she called my name, her voice fell flat in the desert expanse.
21 Hours at Lightning Field, New Mexico
What is a perfect day at Lightning Field? Let’s imagine…
• Showing up to the Dia office in Quemado, NM to discover that you are the only two people that will be staying at Lightning Field that night. You will not be sharing a cabin with four others.
• Not being asked to sign the registration form that promises you won’t be taking photographs.
• Arriving with weather so perfect and no mosquitoes that it is possible to take a nap on the back porch for over an hour.
• Walking around the entire perimeter (3.2 miles) without running into one rattlesnake but instead viewing plenty of cute rabbits and an antelope.
• A perfect vegetarian dinner all prepared in the refrigerator (albeit Mexican food) followed by storm clouds rolling in with lightning on the horizon.
• After singing the Lightning Field rain dance, the cloud cover rolls over the cabin and proceeds to produce lighting strike after lighting strike over the artwork in front of us.
• Creating successful sound recordings and video recreations with a flashlight, a burial, filling the best nesting box of the trip and reviewing them inside on the dining room table we are sharing with no one, while lightning continues to strike outside the window 3.5 hours after it rolled in.
• Ending the evening with a cup of hot tea, a shower with soft water (perfect for all hair types), no phone calls or internet access or updating the blog and a quiet night ahead promising plenty of sleep.
Dream on you say? The worst day of the trip followed by the best? Yes… dreams can come true proven once again.
• Showing up to the Dia office in Quemado, NM to discover that you are the only two people that will be staying at Lightning Field that night. You will not be sharing a cabin with four others.
• Not being asked to sign the registration form that promises you won’t be taking photographs.
• Arriving with weather so perfect and no mosquitoes that it is possible to take a nap on the back porch for over an hour.
• Walking around the entire perimeter (3.2 miles) without running into one rattlesnake but instead viewing plenty of cute rabbits and an antelope.
• A perfect vegetarian dinner all prepared in the refrigerator (albeit Mexican food) followed by storm clouds rolling in with lightning on the horizon.
• After singing the Lightning Field rain dance, the cloud cover rolls over the cabin and proceeds to produce lighting strike after lighting strike over the artwork in front of us.
• Creating successful sound recordings and video recreations with a flashlight, a burial, filling the best nesting box of the trip and reviewing them inside on the dining room table we are sharing with no one, while lightning continues to strike outside the window 3.5 hours after it rolled in.
• Ending the evening with a cup of hot tea, a shower with soft water (perfect for all hair types), no phone calls or internet access or updating the blog and a quiet night ahead promising plenty of sleep.
Dream on you say? The worst day of the trip followed by the best? Yes… dreams can come true proven once again.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Gallup, New Mexico Cemetery
From the highway, the cemetery looked like a bouquet of flowers. We couldn't help but find and photograph it. Lots of creatures digging holes around the piles of stuffed animals, toys, and Dallas Cowboy paraphernalia.
We had no idea the cemetery would be the highlight of Gallup. We'd rather be dead than alive in this town too!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
