ever seen 30 drawers filled with plastic body
parts? ears in one, eyeballs in
another… various limbs in the bottom drawer, which belong to the arm-less
mannequin, who is also wearing a british flag bikini, construction helmet and
swim goggles, while holding a vanity mirror, covered in fake blood?
nope, not a halloween decoration…
naked cockroach barbie finally met her match. i knew it was going to happen, but i
couldn’t tell you guys last week or it would ruin the fun of it. the art tours closing party at bobby
furst’s house blew everything else out of the water in terms of sheer wackiness
and full-on stimulation.
but the whole weekend was another whirlwind of art, and
climbing, and epic… always epic… desert sky.
on saturday, after 4 early morning hours of wedging my
body in rock cracks out in the middle of the park (turns out i like rock faces better than cracks… but im
learning… and they’re growing on me), it was time to hit the art tours again.
first stop:
mike smiley. he and his
wife are good friends of steve & ruth, and i originally met them two years
ago. mike is a sculptor, working
primarily out of alabaster, copper and lots of steel, and he also makes
beautiful jewelry. he is heavily
inspired and influenced by the desert landscape and animals, and his pieces are
almost mystical and spirited in the way they portray the subject matter. they are scattered and animated across
his sloping property, which overlooks joshua tree and the mountains to the
north. he and his wife are such
exuberant and friendly people, and despite the constant flood of visitors he
had, he insisted i sit down and chat for a bit on their porch, while he
finished off a yummy-looking pb & j.
(yes, when people eat peanut butter in my presence, i always notice). a couple times i commented or
complimented him on some aspect of his work, and he immediately burst out,
“bah! forget about me! you really just need to learn everything from steve, there’s truly no
one better.” i, of course, adore
steve and thus wouldn’t argue, but mike’s work is wonderful in its own unique
way. it amazes me how astoundingly
supportive of each other all the artists out here are (last weekend many people
came to steve’s directly from mike’s, claiming he’d sent them to us, do not
pass go, do not collect $200).
my next stop was at karine swenson’s. karine is another friend i met through
lily, who is such a wonderful person, but also an extremely talented and
dedicated visual artist out here. her
ability to paint, in general, is amazing… but what’s most impressive is the
variety of styles in which she succeeds.
she has done stunning representational work, inspired by the desert
landscape and many animals (i fell in love with a coyote piece she did), but
also a whole host of abstract work, exploring very organic compositions with
form and color, as well as geometric ones (she did a mesmerizing series of
paintings called “circle of quiet”, exploring the power and symbolisms of the
circle). not to mention, she also
has established herself as a portrait painter, having a longstanding love for
drawing and painting the human figure.
her work is definitely worth checking out!
janet braley.
what an experience. janet
is another ceramic artist that ruth insisted i visit, and one whose work steve
and ruth own a ton of (ruth used to be a potter, but began commissioning pieces
from janet after she got too heavily involved in land politics, and especially
after she lost much of her own work in an earthquake). janet’s place was way out in 29 palms, where
the marine base is, down a dirt road where the only horizon is dirt road (and some
mountains in the distance). her
studio and compound where she displays her work was absolutely extraordinary,
ecclectic, and full of sweat and soul. exhibited amidst all the ceramics were also
hand-sewn aprons, bags, nightgowns, homemade chutney, cutting boards…. the list
goes on. i’ll let the pictures
speak for themselves, but it was exactly what is so inspiring and powerful
about these studio tours. walking
into the intimacy of someone’s home and space allows you windows into all
aspects of who they are, their eccentricities, the way they see the world. the artists, like janet, that i have most
treasured visiting are those for whom their house and surroundings are as
fascinating and inspiring as the work itself. it’s impossible to define where one ends and the art begins…
it’s such uninhibited and unfiltered channeling of one person’s self.
the interlude came on sunday, when i spent all daylight
hours delivering smoky steak tips and mason jars of tequila. welcome to my second (third) life in joshua tree, which i
haven’t told you all about yet. it
doesn’t really count anyway. but seeing
as i have a secret addiction to working in restaurants, and on top of it, a
gal’s gotta afford car insurance and climbing salve, i picked up a shift a week
at a place down the road (actually literally down the canyon i live on).
the place is called pappy & harriet’s pioneertown
palace.
i could end right there and you might be able to form a
pretty good picture…. think coyote ugly slash annie oakley in the
high-desert. but a quick history
is worth telling, because the place has become so legendary that people
regularly are coming from all over to visit.
in 1946, a bunch of hollywood investors (including roy
rogers, gene autry and russell hayden) created pioneertown, essentially a real
live-in movie set, where the outskirts were saloons, jails and stables of an
1870’s frontier town, and the insides of pioneertown were motels and bowling
alleys for the public. in the 40’s
and 50’s, tons of TV shows and over 50 films were shot there.
in 1972, harriet’s parents bought one of the saloons and
opened “the cantina” which became a popular hell’s angels bar. in ’82, harriet and her husband pappy
bought it, and turned it into a local favorite, with tex-mex and live music, still
drawing the bikers, but also people from every walk of life. it’s now owned by two women, linda and
robyn, who came out here from NYC working on a film and fell in love with the
place (it’s also currently for sale, but only to the right people). it has become a favorite indie rock
joint, with musicians from robert plant to vampire weekend regularly coming
through (live music every night we’re open). but still, the best part is the variety of people and ages
that come together to eat barbeque under the desert sky, and get to experience
a piece of the history.
i really miss working at a place where i get to truly
know and bond with the customers (caseus, i
love you), and a place where you can advocate and support local food – but this
experience is something entirely different for me. the space is filled with more characters than i have ever
seen (and probably will ever see) in my life (there’s absolutely no describing
that would do justice), the staff has perhaps more fun than the customers, and
it’s so insanely busy that you literally just have to laugh (and throw a smile –
or budweiser - every now and then towards the men in harley jumpsuits). if you’re ever anywhere near southern
california, i suggest you HEAVILY consider putting pappy’s on your list of
WFAOTF (worth forgoing all other things for).
(sorry for the crappy lit cellphone pics here)
from pappy’s i made my way to bobby fursts closing party
for the art tours. he had opened
his home and massive open-air compound to anyone who wanted to come (it was
broadcast all over the radio), and boy did they come. well, for a small town at least. cars were parked for a mile along his sandy dirt road, everyone
eager to have an excuse to get to visit his house. i truly doubt whether there’s any artist in the world who obsessively
collects more bizarre objects and “junk” with more fanatical and imaginative organization. i’ve visited before, but every time, it
is beyond overwhelming… to say the VERY least. think tim burton meets alice in wonderland meets every
vintage store and collector’s shop you’ve ever seen. and then picture a tiny man in black leggings, a bright
yellow captain’s jacket with coat tails, and a giant black top hat running
around waving his arms like an animated cartoon character. definitely check out his website.
bands were playing in opened-up quonset huts, fires were
burning in outdoor woodstoves, diane best’s incredible films were playing on an
entire wall, and
the insanity of outfits in attendance made the party-goers eerily
indistinguishable from the horde of objects and displays flooding one’s line of
sight at any given moment. there
were people from age 12 to age 80, all ecstatic to be together. i ran into friends i know from
climbing, co-workers from pappy’s, a host of other artists, friends i’ve just met
through friends in town, and locals who commissioned steve’s work from us last
weekend. the man who wrote the
guide book to yosemite was standing next to me (in only a tiny kilt) for a good
20 minutes.
still trying to believe it wasn’t a dream.
still trying to believe that 6 months ago i was holding
a laser pointer at a podium, defending a dissertation to a room full of
scientists and doctors.
mid-conversation with a friend nathan, we picked up a
book on the table entitled, “rock crystals and peyote dreams”. we were commenting what a great title
that was, and how appropriate it felt for the moment, when i noticed the author
was a man named peter furst.
furst. turns out it is
bobby’s father, who was a documentary filmmaker and is a professor emeritus of
anthropology and latin american studies at NYU and UPenn, famous for his work
on the huichol indians, and sacred plants, incuding the peyote cactus. bobby has lived a pretty wild life, and
has always been dedicated to creating, by self-sustained labor, his art without
necessarily knowing, or worrying, how it will support him. i was chatting with him towards the end
of the night (he held my hand for 2/3 of the time we were talking), and he was
commenting how he takes it day-by-day.
one project turns into another, and he just can’t stop, just keeps
going. one day he’s not sure how
he’s going to make it, financially, through another month, but pursuing the
vision is most important and he trusts it’ll all fall into place. “next!” he eagerly exclaims, waving his
hands wildly at the big wooden beams behind our heads, “what i’m going to do is
put in individual theater seating, but with the seats perfectly staggered, so
everyone here can have a perfect view of the band!!”
i can’t remember the last time i talked to someone who
was unsure how they’d make it through the next month, but whose biggest concern
and current project involved building theater seating for their house-guests. driving home, under a sliver of a moon, it was one
of those moments where the experience of being here felt so overwhelming, i
didn’t know what to do with myself. i am so happy. the amount of stimulation my brain is receiving, constantly, while out
here, is going to be incredibly hard to give up. maybe, by some miracle, i will somehow get sick of
it. or else i'll just have to find a way to get that wherever i am…
either way, something in this landscape is unrelenting in
delivering the closest thing to spirituality i have ever experienced thus far
in my life…
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