New Mexico Part 2: Santa Fe, Taos and the Rio Grande Gorge

The number one item on my Santa Fe list was Site Santa Fe and their celebratory 20th anniversary exhibition featuring old friends from Anderson Ranch, Mary Reid Kelley and Patrick Kelley, in addition to Gregory Crewdson, Roxy Paine, and Jessica Stockholder. The above is a still from the Kelleys' The Syphilis of Sisyphus and below is the dress that the main character wears in the film.

Roxy Paine's diorama, Bastard Octopus, was so much fun to photograph and peer into from different angles. I would love to see more of these installed in other locations in the future. I could not help but be reminded of this article in the New Yorker when encountering the artwork itself.

On to Gerald Peters Gallery where I had Ed Ruscha Catalog Raisonné envy.

I may have purchased a papier mâché doughnut while wandering the streets of Santa Fe.

The Georgia O'Keeffe Museum was next on the list. I was drawn to the old brushes, paint samples and tubes.

In addition to her objects, a quote displayed as wall text hit home in regards to color:

"The meaning of a word to me is not as exact as the meaning of a color. Colors and shapes make a more definitive statement than words."
Georgia O'Keeffe, 1976

The next day we took the High Road to Taos Scenic Biway. I had visited the town once a very long time ago in graduate school and think that my previous trip featured the Low Road as the scenery was not familiar. Lara wanted to stop in a weaving shop and here is a detail from that roadside attraction:

This sums up my experience at Chimayo.

The church that did maintain my interest was the San Francisco de Asis Catholic Parish. Georgia O'Keeffe painted it. Ansel Adams and Paul Strand photographed it. Dennis Hopper is buried in a grave nearby.

 

The Rio Grande Gorge Bridge, the second highest in the U.S. Highway system, was a sight to behold.

One of my favorite group portraits featuring (Back L to R): Kyla Tighe, Grif Williams, me, and Alys Walbridge. Front: Trevor Campbell, Lara Kuykendall, Sarah Lassiter, Noelle Weigand and Lexi Musselman.

Substitutions

Looking for someone to be me for five days this month... Must be able to participate in the Animation Search committee meetings and attend a lecture, meet with five BFA thesis students, teach seven classes, and feed my cats. Anyone?


Cindy Sherman as Richard Prince, Richard Prince as Cindy Sherman, 1983

Matthew Barney as Gary Gilmore in Cremaster 2

Duane Michals, Self-Portrait as Someone Else I and II, 1968

Alfred Hitchcock poses as a woman for a magazine article, c. 1964

Douglas Gordon, Self-portrait as Kurt Cobain, as Andy Warhol, as Myra Hindley, as Marilyn Monroe, 1996

Bruce Conner as Dennis Hopper and Dennis Hopper as Bruce Conner, From The Dennis Hopper One Man Show, 1973

Janine Antoni, Mom and Dad, 1993-94

All I want for Christmas is Dennis Hopper's Venice Beach Lap Pool

I bet Ed Ruscha swam in it. Thanks for the link Reb.

"Ed Ruscha's Los Angeles" by Alexandra Schwartz

Ed Ruscha, The End, 1991

I have been engrossed in this book for the last few weeks. Normally it would take far less time to read it but it's on the back burner with all the school work that needs to be completed. Last night around 2:45 AM, I read this passage:

“Nine Swimming Pools and a Broken Glass presents a series of photographs of swimming pools and their decks, rounded out by a surreal image of a shattered drinking glass on the final page of the book. The only one of Ruscha’s architectural books to be shot in color, its photographs show the pools as a deep azure. Cool, placid, and inviting, they symbolize the California dream of which this artist has so often spoken.

“The truth, however, is that these pools were located at various cheap Las Vegas motels, not glamorous Beverly Hills estates, and on closer examination, one notices the muddy footprints on one deck, the cracks in the concrete, the ragged plants around the edges. Ruscha’s visual sleight-of-hand suggests an ambivalence about the Southern California lifestyle: that its allure, may ultimately, be a deception. Yet at the same time, these low-rent resorts speak to the notion that fantasies of sun and surf are available to everyone, from motel patrons paddling around in those run-down but beautifully blue swimming pools, to multimillionaire movie stars who have the real thing in their backyards.”

Schwartz has written a fascinating account of the influence of Southern California on Ruscha's artwork and new details are cropping up that I was unaware of (i.e. the fact that these were cheap Las Vegas motels and so on). His symbiotic relationship with Dennis Hopper, the origin of his last name (originally Rusiska) and the pseudonym he used as an art director for Artforum (Eddie Russia) have all been noteworthy details. I am now plowing through the section on the "Ferus Stud" - how could you not love a title like that?

The Dennis Hopper One Man Show: 1936-2010

Left to Right: Bruce Conner and Dennis Hopper, 1973

In 1967, Conner stole the name of his friend, Dennis Hopper, and used it to present 26 of his own collages. Hopper was ignorant of the plan and so was Conner's art dealer. The act raised many questions including who the work belonged to, who would receive the money upon its sale, would people confuse Conner's work with Hopper's own art, and so on.


A Bruce Conner collage in "The Dennis Hopper One Man Show"

This also ties in with my family's relationship with Dennis Hopper dating back to the mid 1950s in San Diego, California. In 1954, a mutual friend of my father's and Dennis Hopper drove them both to school. Hopper was a year ahead of Dad at Helix High School (and was voted Most Likely to Succeed in Dad's yearbook). I can hear Dad imitating Hopper's voice right now when he said, "Why do we always have to pick up this asshole?" pointing to Dad in the backseat. No love was lost between them.

One of my favorite articles of clothing is a belt Dad wore in high school. I can't help but imagine that he had it on at least once when riding in the back of the car with Dennis Hopper in the front seat. I wore that belt today thinking about Hopper's death and my father's past. Incidentally, they both shared the same birthday though Dad was one year younger.



Once in the early part of this decade, I bumped into Hopper at the Menil Collection in Houston, Texas. I was amazed at his short stature. How could I be taller than Frank Booth in Blue Velvet? Yet apparently, I was. Part of me wanted to say something to him but I walked away pretending that I had no idea that I almost literally ran into my father's high school arch nemesis.