Thursday, June 30, 2011

The Living Room: An Exhibition by Artists in Residence at El Zaguan

Closing Reception: Friday, July 1st, 5:00pm to 8:00pm

(show will be open Saturday 10:00am to 5:00pm as well)

“The Living Room” or “Sala” pays homage to an historical precedent set from its earliest days as the James L. Johnson House. In the 1920’s the home was purchased by Margretta Dietrich and made available as a residence for artists and eccentrics, the first artist being her sister Dorothy Stewart. We are pleased to announce an exhibition by current residents in what is the expression and continuation of the living history of an authentic art colony on Canyon Road.


John Gregory Tweed, El Zaguan’s senior tenant, will be exhibiting primitive style New England bucolic paintings that have never been on view. Currently Mr. Tweed is recuperating from a recent surgery.


Brenda Roper spent over 20 years in Alaska and is currently living her creative life crossing borders, painting large, writing small and taking photos to mark her path. Her work investigates the texture of social relationships in a variety of media and is published in Calyx, A Journal of Art & Literature by Women, and Cirque.


Adam Eisman has been making objects and writing in Santa Fe since the 1990’s. The work includes modern furniture, sculpture, fiction and non-fiction. His furniture is by commission and he has shown art at the Encaustic Arts Institute (Dialectic (in collaboration with Douglas Mehrens, May/June 2010)


Max-Carlos Martinez, born and raised in Albuquerque, recently returned to New Mexico after spending thirty years in New York City. He will be showing work on paper that continues his exploration of the formation of the American West.

William McLane is a third generation painter from New England. McLane is primarily a self-taught painter having developed his own style and technique after years of experimentation and practice. His oil landscapes capture the atmosphere of a location with rich, expressive color and rhythm.


Bethany Orbison is a photographer interested in exploring and creating dreamscapes and heightened images of reality through her photographs. Her inspiration comes from a combination of nature, imagination and emotions evoked through story telling.

Mandatory has options. . .



An unexpected day off and my mind percolates with "to do" --Artisans for mineral spirits and maybe a brush since starting to paint again I realize I don't know how to paint at all. . .I bumble with the palette knife spreading, scratching, cover up, back up, look again, obsess and still the vision in my head not at all what I scrape out on the canvas -- but too soon really. This is a beginning. And pressing upon my own self-indulgence is a fire burning close to Los Alamos and "the lab" birthplace of the atomic bomb. Plutonium. And perhaps a resurgence (which assumes there was a decline) of a nuclear weapons manufacturing plant. . .So easy to forget it exists just up the road and I won't ramble about that here except to say that a mandatory evacuation has options apparently, but not without reprimand. Still I am glad people have the ability to think for themselves, weigh their options, choose and even refuse to leave if that is what they prefer. Democracy does exist in Los Alamos and that is reassuring on some level. And we can only hope common sense prevails in the on-going debate to firework or to not. . .


Back to the art front of self-indulgence, inspired by a visit to El Rito recently, I ordered custom cradled panels this week. To assemblage and possibility, antique hardware, and an unfinished series of "34A" wrapped in a box under the bed --somehow the eccletic hunting and gathering collection of bowling pins, bowling balls, license plates and a variety of rusted signage a bolt of lightning to my own sense of aesthetic. Thank you for the Spark! Also I have 5x7 cards of these images and others for sale --$5 at the Galleria at El Zaguan. Studio visits by appointment.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

I Never Promised You A Rose Garden, A Solo Exhibit by Max-Carlos Martinez


Max-Carlos Martinez
I Never Promised You a Rose Garden
A Solo Exhibition
El Zaguan
545 Canyon Road, Santa Fe, NM 87501
July 8 through July 23
Opening reception July 8, 5pm-8pm

The work on view is from an ongoing series that explores an identifiable American idealism while piecing together a conceptual history of liberty and the pursuit of happiness. These paintings are inspired by mid 19th century illustrations that originally aimed to depict the re-creation of the American West. Modern influences are varied and include Pop Art, paint by numbers and Post-Impressionism. Max devises a history lesson with a tongue-in-cheek acid flashback vision and retells the stories that were fundamental to his understanding of his identity as a child. This is Martinez’ first solo show in New Mexico.

Max-Carlos Martinez is a self-taught artist who upon returning to New Mexico last year after a thirty-year hiatus in New York City found housing and inspiration at the Historic Santa Fe Foundation El Zaguan residence on Canyon Road.

Recent exhibitions include solo shows at Christopher Henry Gallery in New York City, Methemodi Cockpit CSID in Switzerland, The Sangre de Cristo Art Center in Colorado and the Tweed Museum in Minnesota.

“These paintings read like the peyote induced vision of a modern-day illustrator; their incandescent traceries and wavering figuration convey psychological uncertainty.” Jane Harris, Timeout NY

“I am also attracted to Martinez’ orientation, to visions and dreams another point of universality. Artwork from this base tweaks perceptions, expands thinking and induces humility as one’s knowledge of truth is shaken.” David Hopkins, duluthworld.com

“Max-Carlos Martinez produces a pictorial universe that is at once frivolous and tormented.” Rudi C. Bleys, Images of Ambiente: Homotextuality and Latin American Art

“These are not quiet, sentimental memories. Based on the style of psychedelic art of the 1960’s, his images vibrate with obsessively patterned pointillism and eye popping swirls of hypnotic, electrifying color.” Roy Sonnema, The Pueblo Chieftain
Bout Billy-time.

Friday, June 24, 2011

Finding perspective. . .






Maybe something in the lack of water like a plague this week, in finding perspective when words zing like bullets. Like a car crash. Yes, sensitive --but it is more intuitive I think. A trigger in present time like a slap to the face: not about chairs or the night audit or the man who growled while I paused before giving him directions to the closest laxative. Doesn't help I'm reading "Case Histories" by Kate Atkinson which only exacerbates the tears and I, the queen of sleep, am up until all hours trying to find calm and then I do. The morning is cool, quiet, the coffee strong, inviting, and always it will be the birdsong at El Zaguan I remember. A new bloom on the geranium despite the endless dust and I give thanks for tenacity in pink.
It is part of creativity this ability to feel deeply. To pay attention. To process. It is a fine balance this dance between making a living and trusting yourself to abundance. I thank the friend who brings old issues of literary journals to encourage my poetry. --a 1992 copy of Blue Mesa Review, about "Borderlands" --. And the $100 (investment) from another for the canvas empty on my easel. Today I choose to begin. To believe. As for these verbal bullets tripping the brain I hope to find a truth or two along the pathway back to perspective.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

The Zaguan

Haven't worked at a day job for nearly a year now, been a helluva ride, winging it, aggressively pushing my work, ended up at the Zaguan by a total fluke. 
    Spent the first few months here in near isolation, was a challenging period, but I painted my ass off.
              Life in Santa Fe isn't all its cracked up to be, or perhaps it is just that, life in Santa Fe.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Walk the dog, shoot the flowers, paint.

Normally I would be sitting in my apartment here at El Zaguan, drinking beer, getting a little high, painting, attempting to finish the piece that I am working on and have been working on for nearly a month now. 

When I moved in nearly nine months ago, I was instantly inspired, there was something in the air, the depth of knowledge that these walls posses, I quickly became adhered to the history of this home, this site where so many memories were made.

After thirty years in NY I really did not know what to expect of Santa Fe, I hadn't ever lived here, a cousin at that time was a recent transplant to this city and she assured me of opportunity and beauty. But there was that fantasy of Santa Fe, a cool, chic hip city smack dab in the middle of some of the most stunning landscape in the world.

Now I am sitting in the office of the Historical Santa Fe Foundation, our group show is hung, going into the second week of the run, if we want the gallery open on Saturday it is up to us to unlock the doors and meet and greet. I was just talking with a tall goodlooking intelligent man who popped in just on his way, a neighbor, 10 years in Santa Fe now he says, for the first two though it was tough. Santa Fe Society, a lot of walls he goes on, doubted his move for those two years, from NY. I hear this all of the time.

This is kind of why I just went nuts in the studio, I mean I was painting everyday for at least six hours, got that awkwardness that comes from spending too much time alone, live on faith and doubt, painted like I hadn't painted in a couple of years, I have no trouble being proficient, but without the shenanigans of socializing I could just work. My palette shifted, my process changed, the way I applied the paint felt different. It took a while to get my stroke back, was having some issue with my eyesight, much better now, but I found that I was completely relying upon the colors that I found around me, the sky, the plants, the flowers, this humble gracious landscape that seemed to be willing to unfold for me. So I started taking pictures, lots of pictures, and now the roses bloom. 



This has been a wonderful opportunity, the chance to live within these walls, not sure what will happen from here on in, should be planning my solo next month, feeling like maybe things might be going in my direction a little, but basically I live on faith, not in any one thing, just the belief that this is where I belong and that I will wake up tomorrow, walk the dog, shoot the flowers and paint. 


Friday, June 17, 2011

work, play and a pink chair




All work and no play. . .or too much play and no work. Work is relative. Most of us think of the 9 - 5 paycheck type of job. The one that lets us pay the rent to live in this magical compound that is El Zaguan. I have two "day jobs" --part-time but sometimes the social around the table in the yard is work too or around the table in other yards. I realize how conversation pushes me to face myself, articulate outloud that refrain of what I believe, who I am, what I want and why am I waiting for permission (and from whom) to follow my dreams. What is the dream? I suppose I'm in it. This is part of the path. The pink chair inviting me to look again rather than take a seat. Take a photo. Remember. Artists who have photographed Bob Dylan but still working to carve out a life, plant a garden, fall in love, conversation, the moon rising, bottle of red, coyotes yip yip, a million ideas trip the brain, canvas or assemblage and I could use one of those "professional" art bins to display my matted photos, though the payne's gray basket from Michaels seems to suffice just fine.



My refrigerator is empty of the essentials at the moment: spinach, eggs, chardonnay and I am off to Trader Joes to replenish. More bottled water for "the Living Room" now on exhibit through July 2nd. The day job has its gifts too. A man opening a retreat off Old Santa Fe trail is kind and gentle and giving back, a letter to the New Mexican that brings joy and results to the woman I wrote it for, a Georgia O'Keeffe incarnate, I her loyal personal assistant. And those friendships that come from proximity invite us to linger longer, push our boundaries, open our hearts. . .full moon, pink chair and the art of possibility.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Thie Old House Once Knew Its Master



Stumbling around here has been a blast, sometimes I feel like Miss Kitty from Gunsmoke or Hoss from Bonanza, it depends. Every step of the way is storied but the facts can sometimes be historically murky. Is this place haunted, I say yes, not a lot of ghostly sightings, but a few.

kitchen window thursday


Saturday, June 11, 2011

The Living Room: An Exhibition...



The Living Room: An Exhibition by the Artists in Residence at El Zaguan
Roadmap Variations: A, B, and C
Storyblocks

Friday, June 10, 2011

Sneak Preview --the Living Room TONIGHT 5-7pm













Beautiful morning and hope your plans include a stroll past the white picket fence, two grand chestnut trees, through the turquoise gate and into "the Living Room" at 545 Canyon Road this afternoon at 5 o'clock. Here is a sneak preview from one of the 6 artists in residence. A great show on the walls of our "sala": sculpture, photography, painting in a variety of styles. We invite you to join us. . .

Monday, June 6, 2011

Heavy Skies



The fires in AZ fill the sky over Santa Fe with a heavy smoke and it is strangely beautiful at night... what an odd beginning to summer. The moon shines through the choking haze while we all consider the flames which are scorching the parched the landscape miles away.

The Living Room. An Exhibition by Artists in Residence at El Zaguan

The Living Room

An Exhibition by Artists in Residence at El Zaguan

545 Canyon Road, Santa Fe, NM 87501

June 10 through June 25

Opening reception June 10, 5pm-7pm


“The Living Room” or “Sala” pays homage to an historical precedent set from its earliest days as the James L. Johnson House. In the 1920’s the home was purchased by Margretta Dietrich and made available as a residence for artists and eccentrics, the first artist being her sister Dorothy Stewart. We are pleased to announce an exhibition by current residents in what is the expression and continuation of the living history of an authentic art colony on Canyon Road.


John Gregory Tweed, El Zaguan’s senior tenant, will be exhibiting primitive style New England bucolic paintings that have never been on view. Currently Mr. Tweed is recuperating from a recent surgery.


Brenda Roper spent over 20 years in Alaska and is currently living her creative life crossing borders, painting large, writing small and taking photos to mark her path. Her work investigates the texture of social relationships in a variety of media and is published in Calyx, A Journal of Art & Literature by Women, and Cirque.


Adam Eisman has been making objects and writing in Santa Fe since the 1990’s. The work includes modern furniture, sculpture, fiction and non-fiction. His furniture is by commission and he has shown art at the Encaustic Arts Institute (Dialectic (in collaboration with Douglas Mehrens, May/June 2010)


Max-Carlos Martinez, born and raised in Albuquerque, recently returned to New Mexico after spending thirty years in New York City. He will be showing work on paper that continues his exploration of the formation of the American West.


William McLane is a third generation painter from New England. McLane is primarily a self-taught painter having developed his own style and technique after years of experimentation and practice. His oil landscapes capture the atmosphere of a location with rich, expressive color and rhythm.

Bethany Orbison is a photographer interested in exploring and creating dreamscapes and heightened images of reality through her photographs. Her inspiration comes from a combination of nature, imagination and emotions evoked through story telling.

I can see the sofa.


Roadmap Variations: A, B, and C

Sunday, June 5, 2011

this is what they do

The whole family was there when Alice got to the storage unit. They were all wearing black. The sofa from the ad wasn’t gonna be that great. And they wanted too much. Alice had half the price in one pocket. She hid the rest in the other.

The teenage kid rolled up the metal door. He looked hot in his black shirt. They all looked hot.

The sofa was fine. Alice started to start. Before she said a word, a woman, in black, wailed.

“Mi abuela!” Everyone looked down. “Mi abuelita muerta. Eee, she loved that sofa!”

Alice paid the full price for the sofa.

The next car drove up, probably for the desk.

This is what they do.

Friday, June 3, 2011

Dreaming of water



A beautiful coolness after a hot dry day and I dream of water in a land where rivers have no water. Last night the scent of fire wafting through open windows all the way from Arizona distorts my dreaming but the dawn is fresh with birdsong and clear skies. Working on a new painting that is a continuation of an old theme and will I finish it in time for "the Living Room"



Opening Reception next Friday June 10th 5 - 7pm. or save it for the triptypch I envisioned? Things change. Painterly inverted photographs and colorful south of the border imagery take me to the ocean that in New Mexico is sky. After 20 years in Alaska I have come to appreciate the rain. May it come soon.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Skeletal


Lack of rain... we are starting to see the skeletons of the trees along the parched river bed. Phosphorescence and dry fluff take over where moisture recedes. Dust turns the sky tortoise shell green and we all listen harder for the arrival of heavy clouds carried on the tireless breath of the wind.

Moving Toward the Living Room


Layout--piece 17

Hazzard


I always wondered how a car got upside down. On the Dukes of Hazzard, it would go up a little ramp on one side and then drive on the wheels on the other. You didn't see the ramp. Usually things went fine--they weaved through a gap, outsmarted Boss Hogg. Sometimes it turned upside-down.
I don't know what we hit. It wasn't a ramp.
"It's gonna blow," Andrew said.
"It''s not gonna fucking blow, " I said.
We looked at each other. He unclipped, dropped from his seat and squeezed out through the window. He ran east. The mesas hung heavy above the blue sky. Andrew tripped and went face first into a yucca. I lit a cigarette and waited for the explosion.

05/2011