268 • MAY 2018










Heightened Forms

By Jack Cavanaugh


Dance Artist

By Rembrandt Quiballo

Cover: Lauren Lee

8 12 22



Creative direction: Sam Marinos,

Photography: Maria Micsunescu


Casting Connections

By Jeff Kronenfeld


Notes from the Road

By Tom Reardon








Women in The Arts

By Robert Sentinery


Laura Spalding Best

By Amy L. Young

Michelle Micalizzi

By Jenna Duncan

Kyllan Maney

By Ashley Naftule



By Sloane Burwell


Minding My Own Business

By Celia Beresford


Photos by Robert Sentinery



Robert Sentinery


Victor Vasquez


Amy L. Young


Sloane Burwell


Mitchell L. Hillman


Jenna Duncan


Celia Beresford

Jack Cavanaugh

Jeff Kronenfeld

Ashley Naftule

Rembrandt Quiballo

Tom Reardon


Patricia Sanders


Enrique Garcia

Johnny Jaffe

Maria Micsunescu


(602) 574-6364

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Copyright © 2018

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By Robert Sentinery


The Phoenix art scene is abuzz with an influx of talent, exhibition venues, murals

and a seemingly inexhaustible energy. It’s refreshing to finally see a full recovery

after the doldrums of the recession, and now, like the real estate market, the arts

seem poised to reach new heights.

Women are playing key leadership roles in the Phoenix renaissance, as evidenced

by the number of museum directors, curators and arts administrators who are

female. In fact, the numbers are so skewed that one could argue that these are

female-dominated professions. This month, JAVA celebrates women in the arts and

features several talented creatives who are helping move our city forward.

For Lauren Lee, the path to becoming a full-time artist has been a spiritual one,

about trusting her instincts and making the right moves at optimal times. It has

also been about being open and acting as a conduit between the material world

and beyond – channeling creativity in a way that downplays the self or ego.

Lee helped kick-start the explosion of murals in downtown with her Three Birds

piece on the side of the former greenHaus building, which acted as a sort

of welcome sign to Roosevelt Row and the early Phoenix arts scene.

She was a pioneer then and continues to innovate today (see “Lauren Lee:

Heightened Forms,” p. 8).

Nicole Olson uses her body as a medium for artistic expression. As a dancer/

choreographer, she has become one of the most active (literally) members of the

artistic community. Whether performing in the halls of Phoenix Art Museum or

on the bridge at Scottsdale Public Art’s Canal Convergence, Olson seems to find

the right mood for every one of her ephemeral performances.

Olson’s story is about overcoming adversity that brought an end to her

professional dance career in Chicago. After a long hiatus from her art, she

has risen again here in Phoenix, which seems so apropos (see “Nicole Olson,

Dance Artist,” p. 12).

Jennyfer Stratman is a sculptor who straddles the chasm between critical

acclaim and commercial success. She works primarily in bronze, which involves

rigorous processes and extreme, fiery conditions. Her father was a NASA

scientist and her mother was a photographer, which might explain her love

of scientific processes mixed with aesthetic flourishes. Stratman married an

Aussie a while back and splits her time between her rustic family farm in South

Phoenix and her home in the continent down under (see “Jennyfer Stratman:

Casting Connections,” p. 30).

Finally, Kristina Moore ends our gender-biased exploration on a musical note.

Her band kolezanka (a name that pays homage to her Polish roots) is a dreamy

pop outfit driven by Moore’s stunning voice, filled with enormous range and

endless subtlety. Her musical talents have caught the attention of other artists

outside of AZ, and she is currently touring with the NYC-based band Triathalon.

She spoke to us from the road about touring, her Phoenix favorites, collaboration

and her plans to relocate to New York City in the fall (see “Kristina Moore: Notes

from the Road,” p. 34).


We cook till half past midnight every night of the year

480.994.5576 •





By Jack Cavanaugh



Photo by Sarah Leslie

Originally from Yuma, AZ, Lauren Lee is a Phoenix-based artist who has been producing lively and

colorful paintings with intricate details of plant and animal life and equally bright murals throughout

the Valley for the past seven years. The most recognizable of these was a mural of three sitting

birds on the side of Greenhaus, a gallery and boutique that was demolished to make room for the

Iluminate apartment building on 3rd Street and Roosevelt. Instead of becoming discouraged, Lee adapted to

the circumstances. “When we can adapt, we survive. That’s part of the dance. Everything’s bound to change.”

Lee was later approached by Illuminate’s developers to produce panels of the birds flying that would hang on

the wall of the complex. “Three Birds in Flight” now hangs above the Dressing Room.

After moving to Phoenix and graduating from ASU, Lee taught at New School for the Arts in Tempe. “I did

The Artist’s Way (a popular book by Julia Cameron geared toward creativity). I was substituting for the lifedrawing

class, and I was reading during my prep period. The book asked, ‘What’s your true north? What’s

the end result?’ I said I would like to be an oil painter. It asked, ‘At what point would you be at true north?’

I said, probably around 40 years old. ‘What about five years from now? A year from now?’ I said a year from

now, I would be actively working in oil paints. Six months from now, I would be experimenting with different

techniques. This month, I could just get some oil paints. Then it asked, ‘What could you do right now?’ I said,

right now, I could go to the painting room and ask

if there are any leftover oil paints. So that day, I

went down there and the painting teacher gave

me some paints. I went into my studio and started

experimenting, and by the end of that year, I had

filled my apartment with paintings.”

Fast-forward seven years, Lee has many gallery

shows and murals under her belt and has become

one of the most prolific working artists in the area.

I asked how she keeps the ideas flowing. “That’s a

lot of inner work, because art is a spiritual practice

for me. It’s a lot of energy output, so you have to fill

up the well. You have to work on yourself in order

to give as much as you’re giving. I see making art as

an act of service to the community and to society,

because if it becomes all about me, that can be really

disorienting. It’s easy to fall into creating an illusion

of who you are.”

According to Lee, staying grounded and inspired

requires intention. “You have to find those urban

sanctuaries where you can reconnect. A lot of what

I do is florals and botanicals. I have to have all the

visuals in my mind and then collage them mentally

into my work. When you’re indoors all the time,

you’re seeing all these manmade things. When you

go outside, you see this incredible symphony of

technology; the technology of a tree or of a bird. It’s

really beautiful.”

In the past few months, Lee has completed a very

large mural titled “Hope” for SOHO Scottsdale, a

residential community near the McDowell mountain

range, and has put on a solo show at Megaphone

Gallery for Art Detour. When we met to talk, she

was working on “18 in 2018,” a project that involved

painting a set of wings on the side of monOrchid

Gallery. “When you’re on the river, you don’t always

have time to pull over and set up camp, so you have

to ‘rest on the boat.’ This has been a lot of resting

on the boat. I do what I can as it comes up. It’s my

marching orders.”

While urban walls naturally lend themselves to large

creations, Lee’s canvas paintings also tend to be

large panels of exploding color. “I love using size as

a factor in my work, because it has to be reckoned

with. When I was doing the ‘Hope’ project at SOHO,

there were a lot of workers onsite: plumbers,

electricians, etc., and they would watch me paint. To

them, it was impossible that someone like me could

do what I was doing. They’re eating lunch and trying

to reconcile this small woman painting these 15-foot

flowers. ‘Where there was once nothing, now there

are vibrant, huge flowers that she’s painting by hand.’



Viewers have to confront this beauty, and what do

you do with that?”

Spiritual messages have also been a prevalent part

of Lee’s work. The Art Detour show was titled “Wahe

Guru,” a phrase from the Kundalini Yoga tradition.

I asked why she felt these themes were important.

“I think we need healing. I’ve seen the power of art

in many ways. I’m not just talking about the impact

of a big piece of art. I’m talking about people being

creative, coming alive and beginning to express

themselves, no matter how shaky or weird. Saying,

‘I have a voice and what might that be?’ Every time

you make something, you’re making a statement of

‘I am.’ It takes so much courage to be creative. Part

of what I get to do as an artist is create work that

is hopeful. If we exert ourselves in this way, we can

make something incredible.”

Lee can often stand out in a crowd, with platinum

blonde hair that’s typically tied up in a colorful

headwrap, and a visible sleeve of tattoos. Her

everyday attire is often curated for effect. “I like

these heightened forms of living. You can use words

or you can use poetry. You can say something or you

can sing it. You can walk or you can dance. It takes

courage to express life in an artistic form, but when

you show someone that it can be done, you free

them. That’s power, but it’s not mine. I’m channeling

power. That’s important because when people see me

doing things, they have all these ideas about me. But

it’s not just me as an individual doing this. It’s when I

let go that I’m open to create unbridled.”

So how does being a woman in her field play into

her work and her life? “I’m very lucky to be a woman

because I get to access things like emotional

narratives and spiritual themes. Because I’m a

woman, maybe it’s more accepted that I explore

those topics. My work can be softer, and that’s

interesting because as a person, I can be fairly hard

and guarded. With art, I let people into my secret

world and they get to experience it, and some people

even live with it. Part of being a woman is saying,

‘I may be smaller, but I’m agile!’ There are hidden

strengths that you wouldn’t know about. I do yoga.

I’m flexible. I can contort myself to paint in a way that

would maybe make someone else feel silly, having to

crouch for four hours to paint something.”

I asked if Lee felt compelled to address social issues

in her work. “Just to exist, for some people, is a form

of activism. When I was younger and did a lot of slam

poetry, I talked about how I wasn’t supposed to exist,

not the way I am. How can I exist as who I am in a

world that tells me I’m not? Any time we become

who and what we really are, it’s an act of defiance.

I lead by example, and there’s a lot more serenity

there. I had to stop pointing at other people and heal

myself. When you can heal yourself, then you can

show other people that healing is possible, and that’s

powerful. Someone said the other day, ‘It’s hard to

argue with a transformed life.’”

“I’ve accepted that there are things in this world

that are difficult and painful, and I don’t have to hide

from them in my little world of art. I can integrate

the trauma and become more whole. I don’t have to

be the shiny illusion, and that’s hard because I’m an

aesthetic. I make beautiful things, that’s what I want

to put out into the world. There’s a lot of beauty out

there, and it’s really what I focus on. You can focus on

the pain and difficulties or you can focus on beauty. If

you can add to the beauty, then you’re doing more for

society and for life.”

More than just an artist, Lauren Lee is a living

example of what it means to make choices.

Comfortable in her own skin and brimming with

emotional intelligence, she can easily make witty

observations and talk spirituality in the same

sentence. Lee is a sage and a survivor with a perfect

blend of the practical and the mystical who has made

a life and a livelihood out of cherishing beauty.

For more information on the artist, visit, and



Nicole Olso








Photo: Airi Katsuta


figure paces feverishly in a circle.

Suddenly, she cascades violently

to the floor, then gets up and

repeats this several times, each

time incrementally more restless. She weaves

through weathered inverted clay vessels, while

haunting music plays in the background. The

audience is rapt, unconcerned that we are

in a museum, among fragile works of art not

intended to be in close proximity to such

kinetic movement.

It’s the Contemporary Forum Artist Award

Exhibition at the Phoenix Art Museum (PAM),

and the performance is a collaborative effort by

ceramic artist Patricia Sannit and dance artist

Nicole Olson. In years past, presenting such

dynamic movement alongside valuable museum

installations would have seemed implausible.

But lately, there have been a multitude of

performances that activate the museum through

dance and music.

Olson has presented site-specific works

at PAM numerous times, as well as at

Desert Botanical Garden, Heard Museum

and various galleries and commercial

spaces. This inclination to share her work

in order to help overcome the perception

of contemporary dance as an exclusive art

form is important to Olson, exposing as

many people as possible, often in places they

wouldn’t normally seek it out.

Olson was immersed in dance growing up in

Oconomowoc, Wisconsin, a small town just

outside of Milwaukee. “I don’t remember

wanting to do anything else,” she said. At 13,

she started attending the Milwaukee Ballet

School. “This meant traveling and creating a

schedule for me and for my parents. I was on

scholarship for the duration of my studies. My

focus was ballet and classical jazz,” Olson

said. “I was there five days a week. It’s all I

wanted to do.”

Olson would advance her dance education at

the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point,

earning her BFA with a double emphasis in

ballet and modern. “I studied dance history and

choreography skills. I was immersed in dance

every day for years, also attending summer

intensives while on break,” Olson said. “I

performed with Bauer Contemporary Ballet



during the time I was in school. It was my first

professional dance experience.”

While in college, Olson created a duet inspired

by Robert Browning’s Porphyria’s Lover. It was

chosen to be presented at the Kennedy Center

in Washington D.C. for the National American

College Dance Festival. “This was one of

the coolest experiences I’ve ever had, both

professionally and personally,” she said.

After graduating, Olson decided to pursue

her craft in Chicago, performing with several

notable dance companies. She flourished as

a dancer, quickly achieving her career goals.

However, after ignoring early signs of strain on

her body, she severely injured her back. Olson

soon discovered that she would no longer

be able to dance at that level. This was a

tumultuous period in her life. Her only goal was

to be a professional dancer, and that was no

longer attainable.

Continuing to be around former colleagues and

past dance environs in Chicago proved to be

unhealthy for Olson, so when circumstances

aligned to move elsewhere and start fresh,

she seized the opportunity, and that eventually

brought her to Phoenix. The change of scenery

rejuvenated her. She remade herself, finally

shedding her dance past, and started a new

vocation as a massage therapist. Olson ran

her own business and worked at a chiropractic

office. Her new life in Phoenix was prosperous,

but something was still missing.

“I wasn’t being creative, or moving creatively,

and I was pretty miserable about it,” she said. It

had been four years since Olson last performed.

One day, she took a dance class to see how her

back felt. It turned out her body just needed

time to heal. With lots of hard work and

physical therapy, she eventually got back into

dancing condition.

Olson met Lisa Starry, who had created

Scorpius Dance Theatre six months prior to

their introduction. “I took one of her classes,

and she invited me to join her company,” Olson

said. “I enthusiastically said yes, and that

started my journey back to dance.” She would

soon perform with Valley mainstays such as

Dulce Dance, Arizona Opera and Center Dance

Ensemble, and she started collaborating with

Liliana Gomez.

Photo: Airi Katsuta

Olson and Gomez became fast friends, engaging in long conversations about dance, their careers in

dance and how to activate the performing arts in Phoenix. From these conversations, an emphasis

on building community and a new direction of site-specific work emerged.

“There has been great growth within the dance community in Phoenix, especially in the last ten

years,” said Olson. “We have a number of annual dance festivals, such as Beta Dance Festival,

Arizona Dance Festival, Blaktina Festival and Breaking Ground Contemporary Dance Festival, all

celebrating dance in the Valley, while often highlighting nationally acclaimed artists. There are

growing organizations, such as Nuebox, who are creating exciting new ventures for dance artists

to explore their craft and facilitate new collaborations. New choreographers are creating more and

more work, while our seasoned artistic directors are creating strong performances year after year.”

Olson not only advocates for her contemporaries in Phoenix, she is also helping advance the future

of dance in the Valley as the director of the dance program at Metropolitan Arts Institute, a visual

and performing arts high school in downtown Phoenix. She instills core values of hard work and

professionalism into a new generation of dancers. “I love teaching the exceptional students that



Photo: Dimitri Dominguez

Photo: Airi Katsuta

attend the school. Their creativity and drive

inspires me every day,” Olson said.

The long lines and arabesque silhouettes Olson

is known for are rooted in her traditional ballet

training fused with modern dance. But what

makes her work exceptional is the intensity and

vulnerability she imbues into each performance.

“My practice is inspired by the human

experience and the stories each individual can

tell,” she said. “I create movement to explore

our environment, our culture and our world.

That’s why I love site-specific work so much –

you’re just out there, exposed. There’s no stage

separating you from the audience, and there’s

no backstage to escape to.”

Olson recently presented two site-specific

pieces for Scottsdale Public Art’s Canal

Convergence 2018 in February, incorporating her

work with large-scale public art installations.

She is also bringing her art to the people at

this month’s highly anticipated FORM Arcosanti

festival by again collaborating with Patricia Sannit

to create work for PAM. “Collaborating with

Patricia has been a great experience; her work is

stunning, and it brings out a new and intriguing

aesthetic in my own,” said Olson. “I love that

we are building on that energy for FORM.”

Along with being a performer, choreographer

and teacher, Olson is a consummate community

builder. She is keenly aware of Phoenix’s

national reputation as a city somehow deficient

in culture. Nevertheless, she does her best

to correct this misperception every time she

performs out of state. This is why she prefers

the term “Phoenix-based” instead of the oftused

term “local” when referring to artists in

the Valley.

Olson understands the connotation of local as

a point of pride, but thinks it can also imply

a lack of ambition or a comfort level in one’s

own proximity. “Artists from New York or L.A.

don’t consider themselves ‘local artists.’ They

consider themselves New York-based or L.A.-

based,” Olson said. She firmly believes the

talent here is equivalent to any other large

city and that artists in the community need to

think of inspired ways to represent not just

themselves but also Phoenix to the world.

Olson also thinks that all the arts should build

upon each other, whether they be visual, literary

or performance based. “All artists should

support all forms of art. The more we support

each other the better. Get rid of the idea of

the separation of the arts,” she said. “I’m an

artist. Dance is my genre. The human body is

my medium. So this means I’m an artist first and

foremost. We have all chosen different ways to

tell our stories.”





By Amy Young

The desert landscape is as complex as it is grand.

It’s not surprising that it consistently influences and

inspires a broad assortment of artwork. Phoenixbased

painter Laura Spalding Best is an artist who

has spent several years using her work to explore the


Incorporating elements ranging from the power

structures that literally electrify the desert to the

relationship humans share with the land, she

highlights the layered intrigue of the region. Her

focus, however, wasn’t always on the desert.

Best took a well-traveled route to Arizona in the late

’90s from the Midwest. She came to attend ASU in

Tempe, facilitating a career in art that started in early

childhood. Large-scale portraiture was her direction

at the time. Her thesis show, called Patterns,

reflected this, as it featured life-sized females

surrounded by different fabrics.

Though she doesn’t do much portraiture currently,

she was compelled by the “tension and pressure”

that come along with painting people. By nature, she

doesn’t have an aversion to facing challenges, and

her work exemplifies that, informing the results just

as much as her skills do.

After graduation, Best didn’t waste any time; she

nabbed an artist studio in downtown Phoenix, where

she spent a few years until building a home studio.

She also spent three years as part of the artist-run

collective Five15, which she says was both exciting

and beneficial. “I made a lot of lasting connections

there,” she says. “Artistically, it gave me the freedom

to experiment.”

Experimenting is also not foreign to Best – it’s how

she left painting on canvas behind and started

creating her work on smooth metal surfaces. “I was

in Canada and ran out of canvas, so I just found cans

and objects to paint on, and I haven’t looked back.” In

addition to the smooth, hard surfaces, Best says that

she likes taking an object that has been discarded or

is out of use and making it useful again.

You’ll see her desert landscape oil paintings on the

surfaces of items like signs, silver trays and bowls

of various sizes, and the backs of brushes and combs

from vintage vanity sets. Though those surfaces can

have a sheen or ornateness that makes them visually

viable as standalone items, when Best presents her

desert scenarios on them, the items easily take a

partnership position, enhancing her scenes.

“Trickle Down Ecologics” is a two-piece painting,

positioned vertically, the bottom serving as a

reflection for the top. In the above painting, a desert

road leads a car toward the mountains. The road

continues in the bottom piece, evolving into a bit of



a watery abstraction, making its length undefinable.

While you can see the mountains in the distance in

the top piece, the car’s descent into a blurry evolution

gives the piece a mysterious sensibility. That is

part of Best’s goal. “Mirage is a big metaphor in my

work,” she says. “It’s an optical phenomenon – you

can see it, but you can’t reach it.”

There are a lot of ways to see Best’s work in 2018. As

a 2017 recipient of the Contemporary Forum Artists

Grant, she will have work alongside other winners

when the exhibition opens at Phoenix Art Museum

on May 23.

A first for the artist, she was also accepted into

the Arizona Biennial 2018, to be held at the Tucson

Museum of Art in July. This was her first time

applying to the exhibition that’s the oldest-running

statewide-juried show featuring all Arizona artists.

At Object Inspiration, a collaborative exhibition

between Vision Gallery in Chandler and the Chandler

Museum, local artists show work created to respond

to objects from the museum’s collection. For this

show, Best painted on a surveyor’s scope. She’ll also

have a show at the central Phoenix gallery and retail

store Practical Art in August.

In addition to her painting career, Best is also the

exhibitions manager at the Scottsdale Museum of

Contemporary Art (SMoCA), and this summer she’s

taking a shot at organizing a collection titled Wild

Thing: Adventures with the Permanent Collection.

More than 130 works from the museum’s collection

that celebrate animals in art.

Though Best generally works on smaller-scale pieces

these days compared to those early big portraits,

she still loves working on large-scale paintings and

will continue to raise the level of her mural game

this year. She has already beautified walls around

town, including an epic piece she did last year at the

Marisol Credit Union. Next up, she’ll take part in this

year’s Phoenix Mural Festival, as well as creating

a small mural series that features thematically

connected imagery on different walls that are an

easy walk or bike ride from one another.

You can see Best’s work and find out more about her

exhibitions at

Convergence (mural), MariSol Credit Union, 2017

Trickle Down Ecologics, oil on found objects, 2017

Known Waterfalls of Greater Phoenix!, oil on found objects, 2016

Tributary I, oil on found objects, 2018



Photo: Elena and Jim Thorton


Art and Entrepreneurship

By Jenna Duncan

Michelle Micalizzi says she originally started her

company Fearlessly Deliver, LLC as a consulting

firm in order to work with other companies as an

entrepreneur-for-hire. She has a diverse skill set that

allows her to plug into many different positions in

the business world. She’s lived a life immersed in

entrepreneurship, growing up in a business start-up

family and running five businesses of her own.

But when she began her Fearlessly Deliver social

practice artwork, the art took on a life of its own and

has snowballed into something much bigger than just

a company and more nuanced than just an art career.

“Businesses aren’t just in business to make money.

They are there to contribute to the community and

give back,” Micalizzi says.

Micalizzi’s upcoming art show, “The Art of Fearlessly

Giving Back,” shines a spotlight on the positive

work of one local company and its core values. She

says she chose WebPT because as she got to know

about the company, she valued its ethos. “They

have this idea that if you screw up, you have to own

it. And also they have embedded in their culture a

commitment to give back.”

To tell the story of how and why a business is giving

back, Micalizzi first sits down and interviews the

company’s leaders. She sets up her video camera and

records the interviews, which she posts to YouTube.

At WebPT, she interviewed its CEO, CFO and CTO,

among others. She was impressed by WebPT’s

founders and their ability to construct something out

of seemingly nothing. She also liked their motto: “Do

mas with menos.” Next, Micalizzi sits down to blog

about her interviewees, and in the process of writing,

she comes up with an idea for a painting for each


“I tell their story, which is the reason for the

painting,” she says. “I interview somebody, watch the

video and then look for five takeaways.”

“I’ve been working creatively since I could first

make a mark on a paper,” Micalizzi says. She has

made art and kept a journal her entire life. “I listen

to something or I interview someone and then I tell

a story.” In 2014, in order to have a fresh start, she

destroyed some 1,300 journals and sketchbooks. The

purge allowed her to open herself to a new practice

that combines all of her talents: find a subject,

interview and focus, write, then paint.

Micalizzi has been networking in the Valley

for nine years, forming connections with local

businesspeople. “The whole point of doing this

exercise is to get everybody in the room and then

build relationships.” So far, she has interviewed and

created paintings for more than five-dozen people for

her social practice art shows.

No matter whom she interviews, Micalizzi always

asks: “How did you become fearless?”

“On a regular basis, most people have to walk

through a boatload of details. And each day there

may be opportunities to be scared to death,” she

says. Micalizzi looks for each person’s chance to walk

through that fear and to overcome it.

“The Art of Fearlessly Giving Back” opens at the

Arizona Science Center, Create MakerSpace, May 18

from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. and will feature 16 of Micalizzi’s

paintings. A percentage of proceeds from sales will go

to a half-dozen charities that WebPT has selected.

Boot Strap Roots

Give Your Mistakes Wings Then Fly in Formation




Sacred Geometries

By Ashley Naftule

Kyllan Maney was going to study graphic design in

college before her senses helped her come to her

senses. “The smell of oil paint was too intoxicating,”

she says with a laugh. “I had to change my major.”

A self-described “muralista,” Maney has enlivened

walls across the Valley with her gorgeous paintings.

She draws inspiration from sacred geometry and

radial patterns from different cultures to create

hypnotic wheels of brightly colored dots, feathers

and butterflies. “When I’m working, I look at them as

my meditations,” Maney says of her work’s tranceinducing

qualities. “I’m trying to center myself.”

One particular tradition that inspires her radial

artwork is Rangoli sand art. “It’s these sand paintings

women make in India,” Maney says. “I have a mural

at the Indian Plaza on Apache Boulevard that’s based

on those ideas.”

Certain motifs crop up over and over again in Maney’s

work. Birds and flowers have a place of prominence

in her art, sometimes blended together. One of her

most striking works depicts a skeletal bird with

wings made out of lush flower petals. Maps also

play a starring role as the canvases for her mixedmedia

pieces. She takes old Arizona road atlas maps

and turns them into pictures of birds and intricate

mandala-inspired glyphs.

Her map prints will be on display as part of her

“Radial Pathways” show at Grand ArtHaus, opening

on First Friday in May. It’s a one-woman show

devoted to Maney’s fascination with radial patterns

and her growing love of dots.

“I still use a lot of underlying geometry in my work,”

Maney says. “But now it’s turned into more of these

dot patterns. I’m in love with Yayoi Kusama’s work,

and I love her idea of the dot as the beginning and

the end.”

It’s not hard to see the power of the dot for artists

like Kusama and Maney. Dots evoke atoms, the

building blocks of creation. Their circular shape recalls

globes and celestial bodies just as much as they can

embody drops of rain or blood. Dots are small shapes

that can contain vast quantities of information or

come together to form massive structures.

Maney saw firsthand how a few humble dots can

lead to big things, after a chance encounter at one

of her daughter’s playdates paved the way for an

exciting new opportunity.

“One of the moms had these little canvases with

Q-tips,” Maney says. “She wanted to do some paintings

like those dot paintings on stones, and we were playing

around with that idea. I made this little canvas and I

really got into it. The next day, I went to monOrchid to

talk with Wayne about a mural I was going to do on the

ground and up on the wall. And he said, ‘Well, I have

this other wall, and I really want it to have a lot of color.’

I had the canvas in my purse, so I pulled it out and said

‘What about this?’ and he was like, ‘Perfect.’”

Those Q-tip dabs of color led to the transformation

of an entire wall. “This little 3 x 3-inch canvas turned

into a whole new mural series,” Maney says.

Radial Pathways

Opens on First Friday, May 4

Grand ArtHaus

Map Series 148

Radial Pathways




By Sloane Burwell





Located in the adorable bungalow-turned-restaurant that once housed Rice Paper,

Bri is serving up creative and delicious South African–style BBQ.

When I first heard about this charming spot from a friend, I have to say I was a

bit incredulous. Way back in the day, my family helped with a nonprofit outside

Soweto, and I’d come to love some of the tasty treats smuggled back in suitcases.

If you’re not familiar with the cuisine, perhaps try some biltong (cool jerky-like

cured meat), Five Roses Tea or my favorite Rajah Curry Powder, in its culturally

inappropriate yellow box. Without a celebrity chef pushing its flavors, this cuisine

hasn’t enjoyed the widespread understanding it should. Hopefully now it will.

Bri (which rhymes with dry) is loosely translated as a BBQ or cookout as it would

be in someone’s home, which makes the converted bungalow all the more fitting.

You’ll see a nod to the building’s former life as Rice Paper, with some great

updates. The kitchen has been widely expanded to include a wood-fired South

African–inspired custom grill, which is always seen with multiple ducks hanging

inside (oh my god, the duck). The entire plumbing situation has been replaced,

taking its former funky smell with it. In the front, you’ll find the rooms cordoned

off, with a charming note indicating the space is unavailable due to a kerfuffle

with the city (seriously, Mayor Stanton, help these guys!). But everything else is

in full effect.

Don’t skip a seat at the bar. We totally loved the authentic red rooibos tea, widely

considered a health drink in South Africa. This kicky hibiscus-like beverage is

refreshing and gorgeously colored. The bartender will hit it with a sweet simple

syrup should the need arise. The drinks are no joke, either. You’ll find a rather

impressive collection of house-made concoctions stirred into cocktails, like

the Brain on Fire ($10), a wicked mix of spiced rum, ancho chile liquor and an

explosion of mango and lime juice.

The menu is a very simple collection of mostly small plates, and everything is

meant to be shared. Two items appear for happy hour only, but if you’re nice, they

might make them for you other times. The Duck Toastie ($10) is quite possibly

the grilled cheese of your dreams. Loaded with wood-fired roasted duck, cheese,

onions and sauces galore, the wood-grilled bread provides a crunchy, smoky foil

to the sammie. Keep the potato chips served alongside to scoop up whatever duck

bits fall out of the sandwich.

The other HH selection, Junkyard Nachos ($8), is a sweeping variety of quasileftovers,

served atop classic American potato chips. I say quasi because the word

“leftovers” implies something less than, and this is anything but. On one visit,

this meant an impressive layer of duck, pork spare ribs, veggies and so much kicky

house-made red sauce that we used the extra chips from the toastie to sop it up.

This is my new gold standard for nachos.

So back to duck – you’ll find it many ways here. I loved the Drooling Duck ($14), a

crispy-skinned wood-fired breast loaded with fried chiles. Maybe I like things a little

more spicy, because I wouldn’t call this tongue tingling, but I will call it fan-freakingtastic.

The slow-roast approach gets rid of all of the greasiness and unwanted fat in

lesser ducks, leaving nothing but succulent meat behind.

I wanted to jump inside the Onsen Egg ($6), a scientific wonder, where an egg is

lightly poached in the shell, then cracked into a bowl of warm pork broth and soy

sauce. The white and the yolk cook at separate temperatures, which alters the

egg on a molecular level. Mind and taste buds blown. A little birdie told me that

Saturday, during the day, they serve ramen, and I am PRAYING that this is the

broth. It would make the perfect pho or ramen broth, with a gorgeous poached egg

swimming inside.

Please order the Green Beans ($7), made kimchi style. Fermented in hot, funky

spices, these babies are chilled and perfect. We dropped the pretense and picked

them up and ate them with our fingers. You’ll find a heavy sprinkling of roasted garlic

chunks on top. Don’t avoid them, chew them like Pop Rocks and thank me later.

The Pork Spare Ribs ($10) are a bowlful of savory love. Marinated in fermented

black beans, I half expect them to show up in the Wiki entry for umami. Savory,

smoky, earthy and gone in 60 seconds. Each nugget of pork slides off the bone.

They are smoked so long and so slowly, you’re able to easily access the cooked

marrow. I discovered this by happy accident when I mistakenly took a bite out of a

pliable slow-cooked bone. I’m not going to lie, it shocked me how salty, melty and

wonderful it was, bone and all.

Fans of duck and pork can enjoy rather large platters ($45 and $40, respectively),

which come with mounds of meat, excellent cannellini beans and superlative crispy

smashed potatoes (get them as a side for $7). Both also come with their excellent

bread, virgin butter and radishes (normally a $7 menu item).

I know, virgin butter. I discovered that for the owner, Vince Mellody, this is a

favorite. It sounds weird and specious, but Vince says the reason it tastes so

amazing is chemistry. All I know is that butter doesn’t normally taste this good. This

virgin butter is soft, creamy and tastes like handfuls of honey have been stirred in.

But that isn’t the case; nothing has been added to sweeten it.

This version has a texture unlike softened butter and more like soft cream cheese.

It is a tad denser than regular butter and yet tastes so sweet. Six wood-fired

toast points come alongside, with hunks of ice-cold radish, salt, fresh-cracked

pepper and olive oil. Once we ran out of toast points, we used the residual potato

chips to make quick work of the remaining slick of virgin butter. I just can’t stop

saying it. Virgin butter.

Bri, like all of my South African favorites, is delicious and funky and not quite like

anything you have tried before. It’s fitting that this charming spot is in a converted

home, because that is what the food reminds me of – a warm, comforting,

deliciously simple, soothing taste, just for you.


2221 N. 7th Street, Phoenix

Tuesday to Saturday, 3 to 10 p.m.














Creative direction: Sam Marinos,


Photography: Maria Micsunescu,


Clothing: Gabby Quersin for Maidermood,


Models: Andrew Vigness and Jordan Hicks,






Photo: Johnny Jaffe

Photo: Johnny Jaffe

Photo: Danielle Wood

“I liken it to the death of a star, which relates to molten metal being instantly

cooled,” Jennyfer Stratman explains to me over a picnic on a farm in South

Phoenix where she lives part of the year. “I throw the molten metal on the ground

and it instantly cools into these crazy shapes, very similar to a star exploding.”

Stratman’s artistic vision is cosmic in scale yet personal in nature, obsessed

with the interconnectivity of all things. “Then, over time, the gravity pulls all

these bits and pieces back into a sphere and the whole thing starts again. It’s

birth, transformation, death, renewal and the cycle of life, which is similar to my

previous work with more plant motifs.”

Take, for example, her large-scale piece “Connection Point,” which is located in

Gilbert. A human form from the chest up, made out of an irregular lattice, emerges

from the ground. Contained within it is one of Stratman’s slender human figures.

While she explained the work is about the nexus of inner and outer universes, it also

seems to explore the loneliness and solipsism that defines contemporary American

life. The inner figure seems trapped within a prison cell in the form of a person.

Another example is Stratman’s hexagonal bicycle rack design, reminiscent of a

honeycomb, and one of two prototypes unveiled recently at “Pedal to the Medal: PHX

Bike Rack Project and Art Show.” In collaboration with Downtown Phoenix Inc., Artlink,

the City of Phoenix’s Street Transportation Department and Office of Arts and

Culture, the project will see 25 of Stratman’s bike racks installed around Phoenix.

“I actually came up with the visual as I was laying in bed one night,” Stratman

recalled. “The idea was of bike hives and how bicyclists commingle and do these

rides together from place to place, like swarms of bees pollinating different areas.”

Whether it’s dying stars or organic growth patterns or elongated genderless human

forms, Stratman’s work conveys strong emotions while probing some of our species’

biggest ideas.

A sculptor working primarily in bronze, though she uses other metals and materials

as well, Stratman crafts work in a number of different styles, drawing heavily from

a pool of ideas she has explored since at least as early as high school.

“I’ve been painting the solar system since I was 16,” Stratman said. “Even the

tattoo I got when I was 18 years old, I drew while I was still in high school.” Her

tattoo consists of celestial objects, both in our solar system and beyond, snaking

their way from the top of her foot up her calf.

Stratman’s creative drive emerged even earlier than this, though. “As a child, my

mom could put a piece of paper and a pencil in front of me and just shut me up,”

she began to explain – until interrupted by a male Arabian horse named Bubba,

one of the three horses she shares the farm with, braying loudly and rattling the

wrought iron fence between us.

Stratman assures me the horse’s bravado is just his way of asking for carrots. She

momentarily steps away from her 28-year-old pet iguana, Cosmo, to whom she

was feeding leaves beneath a towering old pine tree. After Stratman dispenses a

number of carrots, the other two horses, Willow and Amber, wander over to get in

on the action. Then Stratman returns to her youthful reminiscences alongside her

loving lizard. The scene is like a Wyeth painting on acid.

“The first sculpture I made was when I was three,” Stratman said. “I actually

remember making it, strangely enough. I think it was in the newspaper, which is

even weirder, but it’s this little clay dinosaur-looking

thing with these little jewels.”

Stratman’s mother was a photographer and her father

was an aerospace engineer who worked for Motorola

and NASA. She started getting more serious about

art in high school, where her favorite classes were

ceramics, jewelry making and Earth science.

“I could see why I was interested in those particular

subjects,” Stratman said. “As I grew into being an

artist, the conceptual side of what I do is based on

science, the Earth and cosmic connectedness. And then

obviously there is the art side of it.”

She continued to pursue these interests at ASU, where

she majored in fine art and art education and continued

to work in ceramics until her vision proved more elastic

than her medium. “I was moving in a more sculptural

direction,” Stratman explained, “trying to cast these very

tall elongated forms. But I only had various degrees

of success because they would often break in the kiln

or after. Later, when I was installing them, it got a little

bit frustrating, and one of my professors suggested that

I go up to the foundry.”

Stratman admits that at first the foundry was

somewhat intimidating. She was unfamiliar with all

the tools, the specialized terminology and the extreme

conditions. At the time, she didn’t even know what

a crucible (a container that holds molten metal) was.

Whatever initial misgivings she may have had about

the macho environment were soon overcome by a

love for the process. She quickly learned the tools and

began mastering the techniques.

Discovering how things are made proved empowering

for Stratman, and it gave her a heightened appreciation

for the built environment. She started seeing things

that before had been invisible. All the while, she

continued to refine her conceptual approach while

experimenting with a range of styles and motifs.

“I was doing a lot of hands and different body parts,

even vaginas. I had a very feminist approach to my

work in college,” Stratman said. “It was probably also

a reflection of the times, in the early ’90s.”

“The figurative work came in the mid 2000s, which is

really funny because I was much more abstract and

conceptual in college and I never thought I’d move in

that direction. Toward the end of my college years, I

steered away from the more conceptual because it just

didn’t bring me a lot of joy.”

“I had a commission to do a piece with hands

coming from a tree root. It was all about connecting

with humanity and the earth. In a previous piece



the client had seen, I had put buildings on one hand and a hole in the other hand, a kind of symbolic raping

the earth. He wasn’t interested in that.”

“I thought, what if I put little figures on the hands, like there’s the single figure on one hand, which kind of

represented me, and then it came down into this root system and the other hand had a series of figures on it.”

The crowded palm of the other hand represented her community and homeland. The figures were meant to be

genderless and faceless, the essence of bodies. In time, these figurative elements would become something

like her signature.

“It was my way of connecting the other bits of my work, the more nature-based or cosmic stuff, into humanity,”

Stratman said. “I am very interested in those archetypical shapes found in nature. It could be from when you look

under a microscope and see cellular structures and then you look out into the cosmos and you see similar patterns.”

“Or the veins in our bodies. Tree roots. You could liken it to so many things. I remember early on, when I

was doing more feminist work and was in Monterey. I was watching the seaweed wash up on the beach and

those pods were shaped like breasts. I just started casting them and referencing that.”

One of the more magical elements of Stratman’s work is the way she captures transient forms and then

immortalizes them in metal. She is married to an Australian, Brad Wilson, and the couple currently splits their

time between the two continents. She maintains a sizable garden down under, which in addition to providing a

significant percentage of her diet also furnishes material for her art.

“I have a succulent garden in Australia, so I’ve got

a myriad of plant forms,” Stratman said. “At certain

times of the year, when things are flowering, I’ll cut

those off and dip them in wax, which sort of freezes

their form, though not always successfully.”

Stratman walked me through her process. She begins

by dipping an original object, a flower or root, for

example, in wax. Next, the wax forms are dipped

into ceramic shell slurry and dusted with sand,

which picks up the details of the wax mold to an

astonishing degree.

“It’ll even take fingerprints,” explained John

Tuomisto-Bell, another artist and sculptor, who helps

Stratman cast her works at a foundry located in the

backyard of his Phoenix residence.

Once a sufficient number of layers of ceramic shell

and sand have been built up, the molds are placed

into a burnout kiln, where the wax is removed,

leaving a hollow form holding the original shape.

Molten bronze is poured into this, and once it cools,

the fun work of removing the ceramic shell begins.

“Some of this stuff just pops off, but the rest is taken

off with jackhammers and sledgehammers,” Tuomisto-

Bell explained. “That becomes the real work.”

The artists explained the process as they loaded old

sprues into a crucible. Sprues are a waste product

formed when metal cools in the various feeder

channels that molten bronze is poured into. When

casting, they use a mixture of old sprues and fresh

bronze. It takes roughly 45 minutes to an hour for

the metal to melt, slowly slumping into the red-hot

crucible. The furnace roars like a small jet engine as

flames, mostly invisible in the afternoon sun, reach

up like the branches of one of Stratman’s works.

Stratman’s pieces are as varied as her zip codes. Her

strong artistic vision and well-honed production skills

have ensured not only her continuing success as an

artist, both commercially and critically, but perhaps

have also granted her (much like the roots and flowers

she transmutes) some measure of immortality.

“The whole process of getting these base materials

from the earth and then creating an alloy that you

can melt and mutate is similar to the cycle of birth,

death and transformation,” Stratman said. “This

stuff formed in the earth millions of years ago.

Then we dig it up and repurpose it. Who knows, my

sculptures may last for a very long time, until the

sun gets closer and it all melts away and perhaps

reforms into something else.”





Notes from the Road

By Tom Reardon

Photo: Nicole Bush

Tell me about your tour.

Tour has been phenomenal! Did the first two weeks

with ROAR, which is always a pleasure. Being on the

road with Triathalon has been a dream. The shows

are exciting and the band is incredibly kind and so

hardworking. I feel very lucky to be a part of it. We

also spent the first month touring with Inner Wave

(LA), which was wild (heavy emphasis on “wild”) fun.

We love those guys so much.

What is your favorite part about touring?

I really just enjoy touring in its entirety. For however

many weeks or months, my job is to travel around

doing something I love with people I love every single

night. You’re immersed in a new place with new

people every day.

What about tour challenges? What makes being

on the road tough for you?

Lack of sleep can get pretty severe. Sometimes

you’re not packed up until 2:30 a.m. and you’ve

still got to get to your sleep destination, and then

leave at 9 a.m. for the next city. Also eating well

can be difficult. Especially when you’re always

on the go and you have no proper way to store

perishable fruits and veggies.

Photo: Josh Loeser

Just as snake charmers use an instrument known as a pungi to help captivate their snakes, Phoenix

artist Kristina Moore uses her music – whether singing or playing guitar and keyboards – to enthrall

audiences. There is a meticulous nature to her work with kolezanka, a band that more than dabbles

with being dreamy, yet comes together in a way where there are no wasted notes and everything

seems in its proper place.

Moore’s voice is strong and beautiful, framing her captivating lyrics with a confidence that would make even

the most accomplished vocalists jealous. Checking out kolezanka is both highly recommended and essential

for everyone who supports music in the Valley. Joined by band mates Ark Calkins and Winter Calkins, Moore

shines when she leads her own band, but is also becoming a sought-after addition for touring outfi ts from

around the country.

Currently Moore is playing keyboard on tour with the New York City band Triathalon, which is where we caught

up with her to talk about life on the road, her music and her fondness for Phoenix.

How do you pass the down time in the van

(assuming you’re in a van)?

I’m a pretty avid reader on tour. In fact, I have a

problem with packing too many books and only

reading about half while on the road. We obviously

listen to music too, as well as podcasts. Oftentimes

we just sit in silence. The drive might be the only

moment you have with your thoughts. It tends to be a

fairly introspective time.

Do you have a hard time explaining what you

do to people, especially those who have no

concept of the life of a touring musician?

I think there are a lot of wild assumptions about how

we’re living, this tour in particular. Some people have

asked what our tour bus is like or what nice hotel we

are staying at, which is funny to hear when you slept

in your van in a Walmart parking lot the previous

night. Most people get it though.



Photo: Alejandra Lara

Photo: Alejandra Lara

Any place that has surprised you for having great food that’s easy to find?

I am actually in Lincoln (Nebraska) now and we happened upon three really good

shawarma places all on one block, all right next to where we are playing!

How did you get hooked up with Triathalon?

Pro Teens (from Phoenix) are labelmates with Triathalon and also friends of mine.

So when Triathalon came through Phoenix about three years ago, we all hung out and

hit it off. I stayed in touch with Adam. Every time I’d come to NYC to perform he’d joke

about me playing keys. But during this last tour with ROAR in November, he hit me up

and asked if I wanted to play keys for real. So I agreed, and now I’m in the lineup.

What are some other Phoenix bands/performers/artists that you are into?

So Pro Teens for sure! Definitely Nanami Ozone, I lived with them while they were

coming into fruition. They’ve changed and grown so much and I’m excited to see

what happens next. GABI is a favorite (and Gabi Manning herself is also a new member

of kolezanka). Willetta is incredible. James Band will kick your ass live, I don’t think

anyone in our city puts as much into a performance as Michael Madrid. I am super

stoked on Tatiana Crespo and Las Chollas Peligrosas right now. As a fellow accordion

player it’s tight to see another woman shred the squeeze box. Dovi (formerly Blush) is

also a new love of mine and I’m excited to hear some recordings from them. The illusive

band Hiccups always blows my mind, I think Chaz is such an innovative songwriter.

Honestly I could go on and on, I think Phoenix is a musical goldmine.

What are your favorite venues to play? How about places to see and find

art in town? Favorite restaurants or places to hang out when home?

I really love playing at Valley Bar. The sound is good and a bunch of friends work

there so it always feels comfortable. I’m definitely either at Gracie’s or Lost Leaf



don’t think we’d have half of what we have if it wasn’t for their hard work and


On the subject of tunes, how you got into playing music? First instrument,

first band?

I took piano lessons when I was young, about eight. I did that for a year or two.

My grandparents had a field recorder and I’d sing melodies into it as early as then.

I remember the first song I ever wrote was a girl power anthem inspired by the

Spice Girls and Dream. I tried to start a band with some elementary school friends.

It definitely didn’t happen. I just always had music in my head. I was writing a lot

on piano back then as well. I sang in an adult Catholic church choir quite young

and learned a lot about how to use my voice there. I got kicked out of a punk band

in middle school for being a girl. I was in a band in high school for a few years.

Then Finding Grampa’s Monsters was the first band I played in that reached the

Phoenix scene. I was playing accordion, autoharp and glockenspiel. When I moved

back from Omaha in 2011, I started Where Are All the Buffalo? That project took

many shapes and names over the past few years.

How would you describe kolezanka? What are your goals with the


I would characterize kolezanka as dream pop, I guess. Trying to lock down a genre

feels so convoluted. I like to explore a lot of space and texture in this project.

It was also the first time I was writing guitar, so a lot of the music served as a

learning platform. My only goal with kolezanka is to have a outlet to continue

learning and to challenge myself while creating.

on any given night. Lola is probably my favorite coffee spot to post up at. I like to

take myself out on dates to Cibo or Gallo Blanco or Welcome Diner. And I hit up La

Frontera for tacos as often as possible. I also just like walking or biking downtown.

Sometimes on a weekend night I’ll walk aimlessly around downtown for hours. But

probably still end up at Lost Leaf for last call.

What are your thoughts about the current state of the music scene here?

I’m really excited for Phoenix, I think it’s in a really good place. There’s a lot going

on that spans between a generation of veteran Phoenix musicians and young

newcomers, and I believe we’re very lucky in that our scene is more supportive,

collaborative and familial than it is competitive or cutthroat. I’ve been stoked to

see some diversity and more opportunity in when and where music can be seen,

especially after hours. And also, shout out to communities like the Tempe house

show scene and DIY all-ages spaces, most notably The Trunk Space, for fighting

through adversity and providing places for all kinds of music and art to thrive. I

What do you look for in collaborators?

Previous to this year, it was rare that I found myself writing with others. Most of

the music I’ve made has been composed on my own. But lately I’ve been working

more with my bandmates to write our songs, and it’s been rewarding. With

collaboration, like in any relationship, one must be humble enough to pull back

while being comfortable enough to lean in. Communication is key. I think the one

thing I have no patience for is a big ego. My bandmates, Arkie and Winter, are

exceptional musicians with brilliant ideas. But our objective is never to outshine

one another. We work as a team, and I could have it no other way. Having Gabi

join feels so natural. They are all great communicators with great ideas. I’ve

surrounded myself with a ton of like-minded musicians and artists who believe in

others’ work as much as their own. We all work to uplift each other.

What can people here in Phoenix see/hear you doing in the near future?

When I get back from this tour I’d like to jump right into recording some new

material. I’m also excited to get our live set together, as Arkie transitions to live

drums and Gabi hops on bass.

I guess it’s prudent to mention that I’m moving to New York City this fall, so I’m

going to try and enjoy my time in Phoenix, play some shows and get something

released before I head Eastward.





Minding My Own Business


Minding my own business, and more importantly

keeping my business to myself, were values that

have always seemed to be a part of life. I don’t recall

being explicitly taught that these things were important;

it’s just kind of what you did. When your parents

told you to buzz off, or butt out or just generally to get

the hell out of the way, you just did it.

When your mom or dad overheard you telling your

friends a story that could make them look bad, a perfectly

timed look of death quickly sent the message

that you better shut up if you ever wanted to feel the

warm rays of their love again. I’m becoming afraid

that with the internet’s diabolical plan to take over

people’s brains, the ability to distinguish what is personal

and private, and what is appropriate in public,

is slowly eroding.

Which is more irritating: a very loud talker – someone

having a phone conversation on speaker while in a

public place – or an idiot who thinks he’s smart and

interesting when he is really a big moron? Now, roll

these offensive qualities into one person, add copious

amounts of alcohol, and then you will have the

person that ruined my relaxing day at the hotel pool.

Prior to his arrival I was having a pleasant time

reading and lying in the sun with my friends. We

were chatting like normal people, i.e. at fewer than

4,000 decibels, and then this character and his posse

busted into the pool area. I may sound like an audio

scientist when I throw around words like “decibel”

but I’m just guessing normal talking is like, maybe 40.

Anyway, his whole crew was a bunch of loud drunk

talkers, but compared to this guy they were like quiet

little mice.

He started with some loud stories letting everyone

know how clever he was. He was blabbing about

some leftover World War II bombs being discovered

in Berlin, which caused a part of the city to be evacuated.

He kept calling it “Berlin City,” which only made

him sound like a bigger idiot. He went on and on

about this story like he was there detecting bombs.

No one seemed to care about what he was saying,

which only caused him to talk even louder – something

I hadn’t thought was possible. Then, thankfully,

his story was interrupted by his phone ringing. Little

did I know, this would only make things worse. The

drunky girl he was talking to/yelling at about defunct



The crazy cashier at the Circle K in our neighborhood

had a habit of talking on speakerphone

while drinking a baby pool-sized soda and

ringing people up.

bombs asked who was calling him. When he said it was his dad, she told him to

answer it because, “that will be fun to talk to your dad. Then we can call my dad!”

The moron answered his phone. On speaker. “Hey old man, I’m here drunk at the

pool” was the gallant greeting he gave his dad. He proceeded to then subject

anyone in the vicinity to his dad explaining his recent problems with the mom.

Sounds like she left the dad and her new guy is abusive, so she keeps calling him

(the dad) to help her get things and take her places that the new guy won’t go.

This totally sounds like a conversation your dad would want you to share with a

bunch of strangers at the pool, right?

Sonny boy really wanted to take the opportunity to let everyone know how smart

and like a therapist he was. So, still on speaker, he shouted words of encouragement.



He continued to word vomit, loudly, for about 10 more minutes. You could just

hear in his voice how brilliant he thought he was.

Is this fair? I know it’s not fair to me, or any other human who had to listen to

him, but I mean is it fair to not let the other person know they are on speaker?

When did it become even remotely acceptable to subject the strangers around

you to your damn phone conversations?

When I eventually left (or more accurately, was auditorily chased out), I came

home and told my husband about this social violation. He reminded me of his

own experience with a speakerphone offender. The crazy cashier at the Circle

K in our neighborhood had a habit of talking on speakerphone while drinking a

baby pool-sized soda and ringing people up. Much like the pool guy, the cashier

was giving advice, loudly, to her father on how to handle the drunken mother. “I


HER.” Turns out she kicked the dad out of the house and it wasn’t the first time.

Something you definitely want to share with all the strangers in line at the Circle

K, I’m sure.

I am considering this a public service announcement. I want everyone to remember

what I’m saying, so here are some handy social rules slogans. If you are in a

public place, do not answer your phone on speaker. Just remember: “When you

answer the phone, you’re not alone.” If for some reason you must answer on

speaker, always tell the person you are talking to. Remember this: “If you must

be on speaker, don’t keep it a seeker-et.” (Secret, get it? That one might need

some work.) And finally, to all you loud phone talkers, keep the volume down.

Stop hurting everyone’s ears and hearts. Just memorize this: “Talking to your

caller? No need to holler.”



Photos By

Robert Sentinery



3 4




8 9

10 11

1. Mello’s colorful new do

2. Jim Manley with Flower at Phoenix Film Festival

3. Container Gallery artists Merryn Akala and Sam Frésquez

4. Laura in front of Cami’s painting at Young Rising Stars art salon

5. Deise and friend at Found:Re

6. The duo behind “The Best People” at Phx Film Festival

7. Dana, Yuki and Dani at Practical Art

8. Pbody and Jane at the Vig Arcadia

9. Lexie gets sandwiched at For The People

10. Ashley Czajkowski’s opening at Eye Lounge

11. Peter Bugg and wifey Melissa McGurgan at Framed Ewe

12 13 14 15 16

17 18 19 20 21

22 23 24 25 26

27 28 29

12. Jessica, Rembrandt and Marcelle at the Young Rising Stars art salon

13. Platinum Passes for Phoenix Film Festival

14. Yuko, Thaddeus and Fausto at Ashley’s b-day fete

15. Opening night at Phoenix Film Fest

16. Ashley, Steve and Sienna at Practical Art’s 10-year show

17. Parking lot shot at Phx Film Fest

18. Lisa from Practical Art with her hubby

19. Phoenix Modernism icon Wayne Chaney and co at For The People

20. Opening night VIPs at Phoenix Film Festival

21. Practical Art 10-year show opening

22. “Up to Snuff” filmmaker at Phx Film Fest

23. Silly selfie at the Night Ranger concert

24. Nadar was the official photog of opening night at Phx Film Fest

25. Shocktop Beetle encounter

26. Isaac is rockin’ the dayglo

27. Danalyn, Scotty and Troy, Sunday fun at the Vig

28. Musclekingz Car Show and Concert

29. In the tent at Phx Film Fest

30 31

32 33 34


36 37 38 39 40


30. Travis, Morgan and Cami at Young Rising Stars art salon

31. Getting their Stellas on

32. Michelle with Phoenix Film Festival founder Chris LaMont

33. Cheyenne Randall mural at Heard Museum

34. Snapped at For The People

35. Art wunderkind Papay Solomon and friends

36. More fun at the Practical Art 10-year opening

37. Stella and smiles opening night at Phx Film Fest

38. Practical Art’s 10-year anniversary show

39. Capital Grille in the house

40. Rockin’ Red For Ed at Unexpected

41. Opening night festivities at Phx Film Fest




w w w . J A V A M A G A Z . c o m

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47 48 49 50 51

52 53 54 55 56


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42. Practical art opening and party

43. Snapped at the Young Rising Stars art salon

44. Jesse gives Sara a birthday hug

45. All together now for Ashley’s b-day soiree

46. KJZZ’s Stina gets some love from her guy

47. A trio of trouble

48. Art mavens Beth and Jerre Lynn

49. DJing Ashley’s party at the Regency

50. Red wine time for Liz and pal

51. Friends who came to wish Ashley a happy b-day

52. A piñata for birthday girl Cassandra

53. All together now for Cassandra’s b-day

54. Photographer gets snapped in the red hall at Unexpected

55. Mello and Mykil at Found:Re

56. Rafael, Stacey and Fausto & photo-bomber Justin

57. Michael Marlowe’s opening at Bentley Gallery

58. Drinks and fun at Ashley’s pad

59. Group shot: Young Rising Stars art salon



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50 62 63


51 52

53 65 66 54

55 67 68 56



58 70 71


72 60

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76 64 77


60. Painting for #redfored at Unexpected Space

61. All together now at Framed Ewe

62. Phoenix Film Fest VIPs on opening night

63. William LeGoullon’s “Terraforms” opening at Shortcut Gallery

64. Handsome trio at Ashley’s

65. Snapped outside of Bentley Gallery

66. Wine-ing trio at Vaiden’s b-day

67. Up close and personal with Chris and Katherine

68. Julie and friends at Unexpected Connections

69. Container Gallery on Roosevelt curated by Xico

70. “Terraforms” opening with a little guy and another in the oven

71. Rosé lover at Vaiden’s b-day

72. Craig and Michael at Bentley Gallery

73. Jon and Radford

74. Dan Vermillion and co at Michael Marlowe’s opening at Bentley

75. Armstrong-Prior in the house at at Bentley Gallery

76. Eye Lounge with Melanie from Tilt Gallery and friend

77. Setting the vibe at Phx Film Fest opening night

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72 85


86 74 87



76 89 77 7890

79 91




81 82 94



78. These guys showed up for Ashley’s show at Eye Lounge

79. Sister Christian…

80. Framed Ewe’s in-house optician

81. Jun Kaneko sculpture at the David Wright House

82. Chris and Sam are messing with a Mad Dog

83. Champagne for Vaiden

84. Ashley’s pretty birthday dress

85. Some people have to carry the weight of the world

86. Joe shares his bead collection with Kim

87. Guadalajara/Phx art exchange, let them eat cake

88. Unexpected Space supports Red For Ed

89. Birthday girl Vaiden has her drinking and dancing shoes on

90. Matthew and Liliana and Cassandra’s b-day party

91. This DJ trio is rocking the Unexpected Space

92. Rembrandt Quiballo artwork

93. Guadalajara/Phx art exchange peeps

94. Jessica Palomo speaks at the Young Rising Stars art salon

95. This DJ rocked Cassandra’s b-day party

PATTI WARASHINA, Scrutiny (detail),

2011, Low-fire clay, underglaze,

glaze, mixed media, 55 x 82 x 85

inches. Photo credit: Rob Vinnedge.

FREE Opening Reception:

Fri, May 11 (7-10pm)









*Patti Warashina



We the People

Contemporary American

Figurative Art

Adventure and Control

Rachel Bess

Life & Death Portraits

Marilyn Szabo

It Is Important to Be Nobody

Colin Chillag

One East Main Street • Mesa, Arizona 85201 • 480-644-6560 •




5538 N 7TH ST

(602) 283-4503

last chance


Don’t miss SMoCA’s summer exhibitions Akunnittinni:

A Kinngait Family Portrait: Pitseolak Ashoona I Napachie

Pootoogook I Annie Pootoogook, southwestNET Acid

Baroque and Today’s Norms Are Tomorrow’s Luxuries:

Luis Alfonso Villalobos, only on view through May.

Related Programing

May 10 I 7 p.m. I Free

Artist Talk: Claudio Dicochea

Hear artist Claudio Dicochea talk about his exhibition

Acid Baroque and its exploration of fandom, race,

science, national identity, pop imagery and visual culture.

Akunnittinni: A Kinngait Family Portrait, Pitseolak Ashoona | Napachie Pootoogook | Annie

Pootoogook is organized by the IAIA Museum of Contemporary Native Arts, Santa Fe,

New Mexico. Curated by Andrea R. Hanley, Navajo. Sponsored locally by Dr. Eric Jungermann.

southwestNET Acid Baroque: Claudio Dicochea is

organized by Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art.

Sponsored by the Jane A. Lehman and Alan G. Lehman

Foundation and Security Title Agency.

Today’s Norms Are Tomorrow’s Luxuries: Luis Alfonso

Villalobos Organized by Scottsdale Museum of

Contemporary Art. Sponsored by the Andy Warhol

Foundation for the Visual Arts, the Walter and Karla

Goldschmidt Foundation, and SMITHGROUP JJR. I 7374 E Second St, Scottsdale, AZ 85251 I 480-874-4666

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