JAVA June 2019

280 •JUNE 2019
NYLA LEE
ESAO ANDREWS • PALABRAS BOOKSTORE • LOS ESPLIFS • KENAIM AL-SHATTI

JOIN US FOR
TRANSCENDENTAL
SOUND BATH
SATURDAY, JUNE 15 | 1 PM
EXPERIENCE CRYSTAL
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MIND, BODY, AND SPIRIT.
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always transcendent world of Agnes Pelton.
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Agnes Pelton: Desert Transcendentalist is organized by Phoenix Art Museum. It is made possible through the generosity of The Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts and is supported in part by an award from the National Endowment for the Arts, and SRP.
IMAGE CREDIT: Agnes Pelton, The Ray Serene, 1925. Oil on canvas. Collection of Lynda and Stewart Resnick. Photo: Jairo Ramirez.

NOVALIMA
Fri., June 28 | 7:30 p.m.
$28.50–$38.50
Afro-Peruvian funk bridging
the past and the future with
tradition and innovation.
“. . . unafraid to experiment with
Latin funk and electronica.”
—NPR, Alt Latino
Upcoming Concerts
Arturo O’Farrill and the
Afro Latin Jazz Ensemble
June 16
Crystal Bowersox
June 19
Orquesta Akokán
June 24
Joe Robinson
June 30
The Huntertones
July 10
And many more!
2019 Concert Series sponsored by
MIM.org | 480.478.6000 | 4725 E. Mayo Blvd., Phoenix, AZ

CONTENTS
8
12
22
30
34
FEATURES
ESAO ANDREWS
Homecoming
By Morgan Moore p. 8
NYLA LEE
Emerging Hues
By Jack Cavanaugh p. 12
Cover: Nyla Lee
Photo by: Enrique Garcia
8 12 22
34
MITCHELL ST.
Photographer: Orlando Pelagio
Styling: Alejandra Inzunza
PALABRAS BILINGUAL
BOOKSTORE
Words, Herbs, and Art
By Jeff Kronenfeld p. 30
LOS ESPLIFS
Cumbia, Community, and Psychedelia
By Kevin Hanlon p. 34
COLUMNS
7
16
20
38
40
BUZZ
Walls and Bridges
By Robert Sentinery
ARTS
Kenaim Al-Shatti
Motion Fantasy Art at Biltmore Fashion Park
By Rembrandt Quiballo
Witness Me!
By Justen Siyuan Waterhouse
FOOD FETISH
Anhelo in Heritage Square
By Sloane Burwell
GIRL ON FARMER
Bathroom Envy
By Celia Beresford
NIGHT GALLERY
Photos by Robert Sentinery
JAVA MAGAZINE
EDITOR & PUBLISHER
Robert Sentinery
ART DIRECTOR
Victor Vasquez
ARTS EDITOR
Rembrandt Quiballo
FOOD EDITOR
Sloane Burwell
CONTRIBUTING EDITOR
Jenna Duncan
CONTRIBUTING WRITERS
Celia Beresford
Mikey Foster Estes
Kevin Hanlon
Jeff Kronenfeld
Ashley Naftule
Matthew Villar Miranda
Morgan Moore
Tom Reardon
Justen Siyuan Waterhouse
PROOFREADER
Patricia Sanders
CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS
Enrique Garcia
Orlando Pelagio
Johnny Jaffe
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4 JAVA
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FIRST FRIDAY AT THE HEARD
KEEP CALM AND HAVE PRIDE
Celebrate National LGBTQ Pride Month with our partner
Organization Native PFLAG (https://www.nativepflag.org/)
for music and a film screening of Sweetheart Dancers at
7 p.m. The director and producer Ben-Alex Dupris will stay
for a Q & A after the screening.
OPEN FOR FIRST FRIDAY, JUNE 7 FROM 6-10 P.M.
FREE GENERAL ADMISSION
Heard Museum | 2301 N. Central Ave. Phoenix, AZ 85004 | heard.org

BUZZ
WALLS AND BRIDGES
By Robert Sentinery
Esao Andrews grew up in one of the bleakest neighborhoods in the far East
Valley, next to the rez, on a county island with unpaved roads and ramshackle
houses. Despite the tough setting, Andrews found a way to experience normalcy,
even if it meant walking for blocks with his skateboard to find pavement. He also
dealt with the challenges of being half-and-half and always feeling different –
his mother was an immigrant from Japan.
Fortunately, Andrews’ artistic talent flourished in high school, and his work
ethic earned him a scholarship to the prestigious School of Visual Arts in New
York, where competition pushed him to new heights. Besides being featured in
numerous art publications, like Juxtapoz and Hi-Fructose, Andrews has shown
his work internationally and is represented by several top galleries, including
Thinkspace in Los Angeles and Jonathan LeVine in New York.
Andrews’ mid-career retrospective Petrichor, up through August 4 at Mesa
Contemporary Arts Museum, is a true homecoming for the East Valley native and
a cause for celebration (see “Esao Andrews: Homecoming,” p. 8).
Nyla Lee is an emerging artist who has been making a splash lately. Her bold,
colorful murals have been showing up on prominent walls all over town. She just
completed one at the Churchill in downtown that features one of her signature
aura-radiating femmes along with a beautifully rendered tiger.
Nyla’s big break came when she landed a commission to do a mural at the P.F.
Chang’s location on Mill Ave. in Tempe. That led to a series of four installations
at the company’s corporate office in Scottsdale. Keep an eye out for Nyla’s new
series on Valley Metro light rail trains, along with an installation at the Central
and Roosevelt station. Kudos to Nyla for literally being an artist on the move (see
“Nyla Lee: Emerging Hues,” p. 12).
Despite one-third of Valley residents being native Spanish speakers, we didn’t
get our first Spanish-language bookstore until late 2016. Palabras Bilingual
Bookstore is the brainchild of Rosaura “Chawa” Magaña, who has joined forces
with her life partner, Native American artist Jeff Slim, to create a space that
extends far beyond the printed word.
Palabras hosts First Friday art openings, along with numerous events and
workshops, especially catering to people of color. There is also a small plant-medicine
store for those looking for alternative treatments. Palabras is a true community
resource that creates bridges between cultures and offers a place to heal and
restore (see “Palabras Bilingual Bookstore: Words, Herbs, and Art,” p. 30).
Finally, as the weather is heating up, so is the Valley’s music scene. Los Esplifs
is on fire, with a sound that fuses cumbia and Southwestern psychedelia from
the wilds of the Sonoran desert. In February, the band traveled to Mexico City to
record first their EP. The fruit of that labor has just been released, and with its
cumbia rhythms, meandering accordion, and electric guitar crunch, it promises to
be the perfect danceable soundtrack for the summer (see “Los Esplifs: Cumbia,
Community, and Psychedelia,” p. 34).
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available retail at Whole Foods & LGO

8 JAVA
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By Morgan Moore

Esao Andrews’ mid-career retrospective at Mesa Contemporary Art Museum, Petrichor, evokes a lot
of feelings and questions about the artist’s process and connections developed throughout his life.
Viewers can easily find themselves trapped in one of the paintings, such as “Mortal Coil,” for ages –
finding new characters and meanings missed at first glance.
Shifting over to a wall full of skateboard decks will have viewers looking for different things. Detailed
paintings are rendered equal alongside cartoony pinups and printed photos with minimal graphic design
elements, and viewers may spend less time absorbing a piece’s complexity and more time connecting each pro
skater with the presented deck designs. A miniature swimming pool skull mural, journalistic sketchbook pages,
and painted skateboard wheels – there is a lot to take in within Petrichor.
Though this show is considered a mid-career retrospective, there is also a lot of Andrews’ work you won’t
find in the show, like his many comic book covers or web-animated pieces. For this show, he focuses on his oil
paintings and skateboard deck designs, two of his stronger ties to home.
Hints of Andrews’ childhood in Arizona run through the gallery. Growing up in east Mesa on a county island,
Andrews had to walk down dirt roads with his skateboard to reach some pavement. His dad, who had been in
the Air Force, moved his family near the now-closed Williams Air Force Base and became a first grade teacher
for the Gila River Indian Community.
Andrews spent his youngest years combing through his family’s backyard shed full of craft supplies and a room
full of kids’ activity and learning books, all left over from his father’s classes. From that point on, he has spent
next to no time thinking about a future without art.
His pathway to becoming an accomplished art
professional was not a smooth one – it was more
reminiscent of the bumpy dirt roads of his childhood.
“It was very raw desert,” Andrews recalls. Though
worse now in spots than it had been, the rough
environment seemed normal to him. “Growing up, it
was just your typical desert. Practically every adult is
riding a bicycle because they got a DUI.”
He compares his mother’s neighborhood, even
today, to scenes in “Breaking Bad,” with frightening
similarities. “The house across the street has car
hoods for the roof, and shopping carts tied together
to keep the dogs in. It was like a meth lab – and it
exploded. On the front of my mom’s house, all the
windows broke. My mom couldn’t have a porch light
because they would steal the lightbulb.”
Andrews’ mother, an immigrant from Okinawa,
Japan, worked odd jobs, as many migrants do,
and shielded Andrews and his siblings from their
heritage. For all intents and purposes, Andrews grew
up white. He found his place within the Valley’s
white-dominated skater community. He felt little
to no permission to make art about the side of his
identity that he “lost.”
“Being half was a very weird identity thing growing
up. There weren’t any, like, real Asians out there. So
my identity, the way I looked [stood out] until I moved
to New York,” Andrews says. “My mom’s Japanese,
so that’s my makeup, but I feel pretty foreign to it. It
does [bother me]. That’s probably why I don’t do any
kind of thing that seems like it’s Japanese-based. I
think I’d be a fraud or something. But at the same
time, I’m doing the same thing: I’m still pulling from
all sorts of different cultures. I feel ambiguous.”
Andrews read JAVA as a teenager, “when it was
bigger – I mean bigger in size,” and enjoyed learning
about the artist community in and around Tempe and
Phoenix. He reminisces about looking through the
photos of people attending events and shows in the
back pages, exploring the subcultures between the
pages, and, in the late’90s, reading an issue whose
cover featured his friend Bevin McNamara.
Andrews spent his days away from painting
connecting with friends spider-webbed throughout
the metro Phoenix area, converging at Fiesta Mall.
Later, at the coffee-art-house Java Road in Tempe,
they would skate in the parking lot or drive to a
different spot. Andrews favored the Wedge the most,
well before it became the Wedge it is today.
His friends in that community also connected him to
some of his first jobs in the arts sector. He designed
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his first skateboard deck in high school, for local
skate shop Turtle and Balance. Erik Ellington, who
spent his teen years in Tempe, had Andrews design
his first pro model on Zero Skateboards. Ellington then
hired him in the years following high school and through
college to design a heavy amount of decks for his own
skateboard companies, Baker and Deathwish.
Andrews achieved his success through tremendous
work throughout high school, building his portfolio.
He convinced his art teacher to let him use art class
to finish his homework from earlier periods so he
could spend every minute after school working on
oil paintings. Whereas most college prospectives
are expected to have 12 to 16 pieces in their
portfolio, Andrews was well past the 100 mark upon
graduation. His future was spurred on by a recruiter’s
visit to his school early on, with whom he stayed
in touch. This led to a scholarship at the School of
Visual Arts in New York.
Andrews had never visited New York or the East
Coast before, and the culture shock turned into a
benefit. The community of artists he spent time with
in college was a dramatic turn from the skaters in
Arizona. Though he holds deep connections with
Ellington and others from his childhood to this day,
the artists he met in New York pushed him to a
level of competitive motivation that hasn’t been
matched anywhere else. Contemporaries and fellow
classmates, like James Jean, served as influencers
who pushed Andrews to refine and hone his process.
“There was a renaissance going on at my school.
There were a lot of really, really good students, and
it was like steel sharpening steel. We were all really
competitive against each other, but we were all friends.”
While pursuing his BFA, Andrews also extended his
professional portfolio with illustration jobs. Though
still designing skateboard decks, Andrews also
picked up computer illustration jobs towards the
beginning of the digital wave, mastering Adobe Flash
to animate stories and characters on educational
websites for kids.
His online portfolio reflected these skills. “My
website would check the time of day of where you
were at and change based on your time. If you went
there at nighttime you’d have to use a flashlight to
navigate. There were landscapes and interiors that
would lead to secret rooms,” mixed in with his actual
work. “Easter eggs” were littered throughout his
page much like in his recent paintings.
Andrews made his mark in several commercial
realms, but often at the cost of following a direction
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that wasn’t his own. He struggled with compromising
in order to maintain a separate career of artistic
freedom. But while he prefers to execute his own
ideas and work for himself, his fine art and commercial
illustration both strive for approval from others. Andrews
believes much of his drive in both freelance illustration
and personal art-making stems from a deep-rooted
wish to please his parents and family.
“I’m doing it for an audience,” he confirms. “I want
people to have some kind of reaction to what I’m
doing and feel something.”
Andrews was glad to have the opportunity for a
homecoming exhibition, and dedicated this chapter
of work on display to his desert upbringing. While
carrying many connotations, Petrichor suggests the
smell of rain, which reminds him of the desert.
Andrews’ older work frequently featured oceans,
deciduous vegetation, and structures representative
of the East Coast, often Victorian in style, illustrating
his break with Arizona and pining for the unfamiliar.
He describes his newer work as “Southwestern
escapism,” and he spends more time exploring motifs
that remind him of where he grew up. The desert
has become romanticized again, and his longing
manifests in pigment and narratives.
Elements of Andrews’ work always bring him back
home, to heavy metal music and the horror movies
his mom would watch. Meanwhile, other elements
are prompted from his contemporaries, influences,
and his everyday environment. Images and feelings
are collaged together and presented to viewers as an
open-ended puzzle.
Andrews is more interested in letting others discover
meaning from his work than deciding it for them.
Whether it is a firefighter extending a hand through
dense smoke or a man eating a Big Mac, Andrews
seems equipped to combine visuals and familiar
archetypes and turn them into chimeras of questions.
(Those who want only a single meaning from Andrews’
work can visit his Instagram account, @esao, where he
designs rebus puzzles that are not open-ended.)
That is not to say he doesn’t spend a fair amount
of his time creating work outside of ambiguity. An
example of work with a specific concept in mind is
a small but powerful piece presented in a display
case in Petrichor titled “The Waiting Game.” In
the piece, exposed remains of a genie rest inside
a bottle. Andrews discloses his inclination toward
scientific reasoning when exploring the realities
behind fantasy, while dissecting a common storyline
to reveal the fate of a supernatural deity whose
dependence on a mortal being proves fatal.
“What if nobody came? How long does magic last?
From a scientific point of view, what if so much time
passed – we’re not talking thousands of years, but
if millions of years passed – if the sun turned into a
super-giant, and if Earth just didn’t exist anymore, it
was just a rock, dead of life – is he still waiting? Is
he waiting for eternity? What if he waits so long that
the magic is gone?” He quiets, and then reasserts his
point. “It’s beautiful, tragic, and very real.”
Romantic abandonment, which Andrews draws as a
storyline of “The Waiting Game,” is found throughout
Petrichor, in his brushwork and his eye for detail
in storytelling that provokes a second, third, or
sixth look at the work. The moods within the show,
coupled with Andrews’ Poisonous Birds book release
on the night of the opening, mix sentiments of
coming home with saying goodbye and letting go.
After wrapping up a major chapter, Andrews looks
forward to taking people from the gallery and
bringing them into his surreal narratives within a
real-world setting. He is preparing to take on larger
projects, both three-dimensional and functional, and
enter the realm of public spaces. He aims to manifest
his storytelling in public art projects and is readying
himself to dive back into computer-rendered art, for
3D modeling this time around.
Perhaps it is the idea of a greater impact that
motivates him in this direction, or reminiscing about
systems in which people choose to lose themselves.
Or maybe it’s his desire to break beyond a canvas,
a phone screen, or an inauthentic reaction, to form
deeper and more sincere connections with people.
Petrichor
Through August 4
Mesa Contemporary Art Museum
esao.net
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Photo by Kayla Clancy

Photos by Kayla Clancy
A
bright and prolific artist who has become a figure in the Phoenix
art scene seemingly overnight, Nyla Lee has been adding her
colorful portraits to the scenery around metro Phoenix for the past
two years. Her striking pieces have only recently started appearing
on walls, but they’re already becoming as recognizable as longer-standing
public art pieces. At this pace and with this skill level, it’s only a matter of
time before her art career is launched to new heights.
We meet at a downtown café a few days before First Friday. Nyla manages
to squeeze in a small amount of time to talk before heading back to her
current work in progress, a tall mural featuring a young woman cradling
a tiger and a bouquet of flowers, all in bright, almost neon colors. Located
on a large outer wall of the Churchill, a multi-business, primarily dining
space made mostly of shipping containers, hers is one of several murals
that have appeared over the past week. “It’s called 1½ Street, and it opens
on this First Friday – ten artists with ten new murals. I’m so happy to be a
part of that, and I got one of the tallest walls! I’m next to Breeze and Lalo.
It’s crazy.”
A couple of years ago, Lee’s work was virtually unknown to the public.
Shortly after a mural went up on the side of Tacos de Juarez on 7th Street
and Roosevelt, her brightly colored faces started appearing on more and
more walls around downtown. Lee insists that her very swift transition was
an organic process. “Last year was the first that I started making money
doing walls, and this year, my income has been just this. I talk to a lot of
people, and I’m always telling them what I do and that I’d be down to paint
their wall. It’s happened so organically that now I can just do this full-time.”
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Her pieces almost always feature close-ups of
serene and surreal humans, typically female faces on
psychedelic backdrops. Lee insists that her process
is less structured and more spontaneous. “I draw
more by intuition and feelings than for a set purpose
or intention. I aim for a unique color palette that
creates a mood and emotion. I explained to someone
the other day, it’s kind of like an aura of a person.
You meet someone and you can feel what they’re
giving off, if they’re sad and upset or if they’re happy
and glowing from within. You meet someone who’s
glowing and say, ‘I feel like you’re smiling all the
time.’ I try to capture that through colors. It sounds
so hippie, but it makes sense. It makes you feel good
when you see it. I want to make ‘feel good’ art.”
Nyla had a very early introduction to the art world,
including familial inspirations. “My grandpa was
an artist. His pieces were these big black-velvet oil
paintings. I saw those and his pencil drawings, and
I just started wanting to learn how to draw. I also
had teachers who drew portraits of me when I was
in first or second grade, and seeing myself drawn,
I was like, ‘Wow, you can do this? You can draw
someone’s face?!’
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“I went to school a block away from Fremont Street. I
felt like I was in a movie when I’d go there. Vegas is
very bright lights and neon central. After school, we’d
go to this place called the Emergency Room. It was a
café and gallery, and seeing that, I thought, ‘People
can have a studio here and have shows?!’ I didn’t
know that was possible. It was awesome going to
school down there and being a part of the weirdness
of Fremont Street. I think that’s why I draw women,
too, because it’s so focused on women.”
One of Nyla’s first large commissions came from
the P.F. Chang’s restaurant chain, headquartered in
Scottsdale. The creative director of P.F. Chang’s found
Lee through social media and approached her for the
commission. “I did the Tempe location on Mill Ave.,
two 20-foot murals. I had seven days to both, and I
did the first one in three days. After I finished them,
they hired me to do their corporate office, where I did
four large mural installations. I only had a month and
a half to do all of them, and I got pretty burnt out. I
painted for nine days straight and I was like, ‘Can I
take a day off?’ By the ninth day, I was falling asleep
on the scaffolding.”
For those who may not have seen her murals
downtown or visited the P.F. Chang’s on Mill Avenue
lately, Nyla’s work can also be seen on the cover of
DTPHX’s 2019 map and directory. The cover features
a female half-face with a nocturnal backdrop and a
corresponding male face on the back. Her work will
also soon be visible on Valley Metro light rail trains
and at the light rail station on Central Avenue and
Roosevelt. “I’m gonna be everywhere, and I feel
so selfish right now. I’m like, ‘Someone take some,
please!’ I definitely feel like I’m gonna get annoyed
seeing my name.”
While she may have had a sudden burst of success,
Nyla has no plans to rest on her laurels. She is
as ambitious as ever in moving forward with her
abilities. “I’m getting to really understand the
medium, and now it’s like, ‘How can I elevate my
story for a viewer?’ Street art is all for the public.
It’s not just for the artist. It doesn’t need to be
political or tell a story, it can just be something
that creates an emotion, like, ‘Wow, that’s
beautiful.’ Female portraits are where I’m most
comfortable. I can do them in my head. Now I’m
starting to really understand what I want to say
and where I’m going with the pieces. I’m trying to
reach this point with my art where it feels more
abstract, where you can look at it and get lost inside
it forever.”

Photo: Enrique Garcia
Nyla has found plenty of friends and inspiration in
the local community of artists, including collaborators
and mentors. I asked her to name a few inspirations,
and several came to mind. “Antoinette (Cauley), she’s
a hustler. I really appreciate the effort she puts into
it, and she’s a great artist. Her last show definitely
pushed an idea that no one else would touch. Breeze
(Thomas “Breeze” Marcus). His work ethic and his
style is so precise. He’s helped me out so much
and given me so much advice throughout my art
endeavors, and is always a great friend.
Lauren Lee has always been an amazing help. I
worked with her on a solo show she was doing a
while back. She’s given me so much business advice
and helped me understand what I need to do to
move my career along. This is the first time in my
life where I’ve known this many people, and I feel
very accepted. I’ve always been the only artist in my
friend group, and now I have so many art friends. It
makes me really think about art all the time since my
friends are all artists, and I never get tired of it.”
While change has become a fact of life for the
downtown arts community, with mixed reactions,
Lee’s excited about the future, especially with
Meow Wolf moving in. “It’s super dope to say, ‘Yeah,
the Meow Wolf in Phoenix.’ It’s saying Phoenix is
becoming an art hub. I was definitely not part of the
beginning, but I’ve seen the progress from it being
kinda chill and now it’s like, Meow Wolf!”
“True North is giving so many grants and
commissions to artists. I’ve worked with Jonathan
(Vento). Breeze and I did a piece (Pemberton House
mural) for True North. Getting to know all of them
was great. They took care of us the entire time, and
after working with them, I’m so down for anything
they have going on. These type of projects bring
people and money into this community. I can see
Phoenix becoming a bigger art hub, for sure.”
While painting public walls has been lucrative for Lee
so far, her vision for the future also includes other
types of artistic work. “I want to start focusing on
solo shows and getting a body of work together for
galleries. I also want to start doing installation stuff
in my studio and creating immersive experiences. I
have it, I want to be able to use it. Also, I just bought
a podcast mic. So podcasts, stuff like that, too. I want
to create more content about art and be more than
just an artist.”
With this kind of brightness and momentum, it only
seems a matter of time before we see more of Nyla’s
vibrant creations in multiple forms inside galleries
and around the city.
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ARTS
KENAIM AL-SHATTI
Motion Fantasy Art at Biltmore Fashion Park
By Rembrandt Quiballo
The most compelling art project in the metro Phoenix
area in recent months is a site-specific installation
located in the former Apple Store at Biltmore Fashion
Park. Kenaim Al-Shatti utilizes the expansive glass
storefront to project a panorama of abstract, ultrasaturated
dreamscapes. The resulting imagery
provides respite from the deluge of visual information
we process every day.
The fact that his artwork is located at a shopping
mall, the bastion of Western commerce, is not lost
on Al-Shatti. He studied visual communications at
ASU and is sensitive to the amount of advertising
out there in the world. “My background is in viscom
Photo: Gabriel Hernandez
and design,” he said. “I’m aware of where that takes
people, and I’m also aware that I can’t be a part of
putting more shit into the world. “
What Al-Shatti puts into the world is digital virtual
bliss that can evoke wonder, unencumbered by
everyday reality and market forces. The forms he
creates are abstract in the sense that they have no
reference to the physical world and are seemingly
born from digital ether, yet the work also feels like
the most human experience one can have. His use of
drenched colors that undulate and meander through
a surreal digital space with just a touch of analog
warmth has the potential to heighten whatever the
viewer is subjectively feeling at the time.
Al-Shatti first caught our attention when he played
with GLOB at FORM Arcosanti last year. The
memorable set was a contemplative audiovisual
experience performed in a cavernous throughway
under the looming architecture. The artists’ sense of
experimentation and expansive use of old and new
technology distinguished them from more customary
festival acts. Made up of Al-Shatti, M. Dean Bridges,
and Benj Braman, the trio defies genres, having
opened for touring musical acts as well as performing
at the Phoenix Art Museum.
Al-Shatti’s work comes from a post-Internet world,
where all our experiences are filtered through the
“net,” regardless of its molecular composition. He
has been actively posting GIFs on Tumblr for years;
his earlier work consisted of recognizable detritus
from visual culture. However, his recent and most
developed work completely distills his source
material to its most elegiac qualities, resulting in a
unique visual language.
The Biltmore project comes on the heels of a similar
light-based installation Al-Shatti created at Cityscape
in downtown Phoenix. The current project is bigger
and even more complex, as he combines multiple
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projections into one panoramic image. Al-Shatti
continuously experiments and tweaks the work
almost daily. “It’s a combination of multiple pieces
that I’ve made for this window so far,” Al-Shatti said.
“That’s where I’m coming from right now. I like this
idea of making this ever-long kind of branching thing.
If I make another piece tomorrow, I can add it in right
away. It keeps getting longer and longer. I sit back
with my sketchbook just seeing what works and what
doesn’t work. This is also exploration of some of the
more recent stuff I’ve been making in general.”
Al-Shatti, who has always been forward thinking,
envisions his moving images in large-scale immersive
environments. Although he is at times physically
limited in how he can present his work, Al-Shatti
is optimistic that as more people see his work, it will
become easier to convince institutions and other nontraditional
venues to host his art. “It’s fine that Phoenix
doesn’t have all the tools for all these things yet. It will
get them. I love the idea of this place being so fertile.
We can take all this stuff and just build with it.”
Along with his ongoing collaborative work with
GLOB, which includes performing at music festivals
and creating an anthology film, Al-Shatti is preparing
for an upcoming two-person show at Trans Am Cafe
with his mother, an interesting artist in her own right.
He plans to focus on motion pieces and possibly
some painting and illustration work.
Al-Shatti’s trademark visuals were seen by thousands
of people when Drake incorporated them into his
recent European tour. Al-Shatti has been providing
visuals for musical artists for several years now,
including Shawn Mendes, Juanes, and 6lack. With
such a robust national and international presence,
the possibility of going to a city with access to more
resources and larger audiences seems to always be a
question for Al-Shatti.
“People used to ask me if I was going to move away
from Phoenix,” he said. “Are you going to do this
or that? I don’t understand why, as an artist, you’d
want to move away from this place. It seems so ripe
for experimentation and for just being able to do
really interesting stuff. There’s already such a solid
infrastructure of artists doing cool things.”
Motion Fantasy Art by Kenaim Al-Shatti
Biltmore Fashion Park Mall
Through June 30
Daily 10 a.m. – 10 p.m.
www.kenaim.com
@keniamx
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WITNESS ME!
Justen Siyuan Waterhouse
It’s disorienting to read political news more than a
month old. The further back we look, the more foreign
our own attitudes about national politics appear. We
have trouble recalling contemporary American politics
in a straightforward manner. We remember recent
history like unremarkable prestige TV episodes: linear
progression of plot is replaced by character thematics.
Our politicians argue which “Game of Thrones”
characters they most resemble. Our collective sense
of reality blurs with fiction, and our identification
of historical continuity is subverted by a 24-hour
media cycle. Attitudes older than a few months feel out
of step with our accelerating political drama.
A Matter of Public Record: Art in the Age of Mass
Surveillance is the current exhibition at Fine Arts
Complex 1101 (FAC) in Tempe. It was collaboratively
curated by Brian Thomas Jones (Los Angeles) and
Grant Vetter (Tempe). Viewing this show feels like a
journey through a distinctly earlier political moment,
although this is mainly an effect of our media
environment, as the concerns raised here remain
vital. The show was conceived in 2018 and debuted
at the artist co-op space Durden and Ray in Los
Angeles in September. The current show at FAC is
substantially similar to the Durden and Ray show. It
includes all but one of the same thirteen artists and
many of the same works.
There are, however, some notable differences.
Durden and Ray’s space – with higher ceilings
and expansive rooms – was more generous to the
artworks and allowed them to breathe. The events
of 2018 were also closely aligned with the show’s
concerns about surveillance technologies. In April
2018, Mark Zuckerberg was asked to explain why
Cambridge Analytica had access to 87 million
Facebook users’ data during the 2016 election.
Now, in 2019, presented in a different city and a
much smaller gallery, the same show in Tempe feels
cramped for space and temporally out of step.
The works of some artists transform images from
news media through painting. Chris Vena’s painting
“Friday, July 8th, Campaigns V” (2017) describes
masked protestors with Baroque theatricality. A
glaring light source implies violence – perhaps from
a Molotov cocktail? Steve Hampton’s paintings make
parallels between contemporary and archaic forms
of power as shown in portraiture. His painting of
Trump in repose, “The Bather” (2018), recalls an older
icon of wealth and domination: the odalisque. These
works confront state power by calling it out and
dramatizing it.
Other works indulge moral anxieties about
dehumanizing social technologies. Sean Noyce’s
video “A Sunday Afternoon Redaction” (2019) offers
an homage to Seurat’s “A Sunday Afternoon on the
Island,” with individual human subjects covered by
identity-obscuring pixel blobs. Rembrandt Quiballo’s
prints, such as “Radicalism of Dog on Leash” (2018),
sanitize and aestheticize found stills of disaster
footage by selectively glitching out the scary parts.
These techniques create a totalizing effect, like a
stylistic filter on a photograph. Noyce and Quiballo’s
transformations call attention to something important
but are not meant to inspire action in response.
So where does action lie in this show? Adriene
Jenik’s video “THE SKY IS FALLING…” (2016)
provides a fraught answer. In a ritualistic
performance, Jenik excavates rocks and soil, using
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each shovelful to bury a square of cloth. Each burial
represents a civilian killed by a U.S. military drone,
up to the estimated 2016 total of 616. Jenik’s project
is to humanize the consequences of warfare made
abstract by remote-controlled violence.
A parallel moral project is enacted alongside this
conceptual conceit, whereby Jenik’s ritual seeks
spiritual absolution through repetitive labor and
intertitles entreating to be forgiven for what is done
“in my name.” Although Jenik’s stated project is
to confront the impersonal, near-ambient violence
of American foreign policy, the moral locus is
definitively in the individual subject. What we then
contemplate is not a structural entanglement with
imperialism and state violence, but rather whether
you, or I, or the artist, is personally equipped to
reconcile the abstract statistics of suffering. In trying
to describe an oppressive infrastructure, Jenik’s work,
like much of this show, ends up creating an aesthetic
of witnessing, sited nearly exclusively within an
individual’s subjective morality.
These aesthetic products of visibility politics have
been largely ineffectual as political interventions.
Bad people and bad governments are immune
to naming-and-shaming, immune to nude Trump
statues and pussy hats. Art metabolizes at a slower
pace than politics and outlasts the accelerating
pace of media. Works such as Jenik’s, and others
in this show, linger on a locus of suffering long
after it is fashionable. While this diminishes their
tactical value, they do serve a role in disrupting our
learned cycles of attention. We can read them as
documenting mid-Trump-regime fears, as well as the
recognition that the surveillance state still endures
while the media cycle moves on.
A Matter of Public Record: Art in the Age of Mass
Surveillance
May 4 – June 1, 2019
Fine Art Complex 1101
1101 West University Drive #103, Tempe
fineartcomplex1101.com
Micah White, head of Occupy Wall Street, founder of
the Activist Graduate School, and author of The End
of Protest: A New Playbook for Revolution, will speak
at Fine Art Complex 1101 at noon, June 1. Admission
and books are free, but seating is limited.
Fine Art Complex 1101 will also screen the film
Stingray on Saturday, June 1, at 2 p.m. – a
documentary about an invasive surveillance technology
called a cell site simulator. Filmmaker Jerod McDonald-
Enoy will be available for a Q&A immediately following
the screening, around 3 p.m. The film is free and open
to the public, but seating is limited.
Chris Vena, Friday, July 8th, Campaigns V (2017), oil on canvas, 48 x 60 in.
Installation view of Steve Hampton, from left to right: The Ornithologist (2019),
The Uniform (2017), The Equestrian 2 (2017), The Rancher (2017), The Bather
(2019), oil on canvas. Foreground: Nathaniel Lewis, Playland Security (2016),
wood, plastic, and fabric, 4 x 8 x 4 ft.
Still from Sean Noyce, A Sunday Afternoon Redaction (2019), single-channel
video, custom code, dimensions variable.
Rembrandt Quiballo, Radicalism of Dog on Leash (2018), inkjet print on metal,
11 x 14 in.
Still from Adriene Jenik, THE SKY IS FALLING… (2016), single-channel video,
13 min.
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Anhelo in Heritage Square
Anhelo is an adorable restaurant tucked inside the historic home in Heritage
Square that was once The Rose & Crown. It’s a bit of a mystery, too, since
it appears to be the restaurant formerly known as Hidden Kitchen, sharing
the same executive chef, Ivan Jacobo. Unfortunately, I never made it to Hidden
Kitchen, so I can’t comment on the switch-up. But as to Anhelo, I can tell you what
I liked, what I loved, and what might benefit from a wee bit of tweaking.
Anhelo, loosely translated from Spanish, means longing or desire. I do find
myself longing for some spare time so I can partake in another of their splendid
cocktails. Their outside tables make a wonderful place to watch the world go by.
I particularly enjoyed giggling at the Lyft traffic jam that ensued on a Friday night
as all of the patrons were getting dropped off near Pizzeria Bianco. Situated next
to Noubu at Teeter House, this little corner has enormous culinary potential, since
two of the three restaurants in Heritage Square boast chefs with prestigious
James Beard awards, the Olympic gold of the culinary world.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. As of today, Anhelo doesn’t host lunch, which
makes its rather large black-and-white striped shade umbrellas a bit of a
mystery. On our visit, all of the umbrellas were closed, and the large central pole
made seeing my dining companions impossible. We watched people at every
other outside table play the same peekaboo game with their friends, as we all
attempted to flag down some help (more on that later).
Back to the cocktails. Anhelo has strong talent in the drink department, and I
adored the Daquiri, ($10), which comes in a retro-feeling round champagne glass.
Whipped egg whites give the drink body and heft and provide balance for the
cheek-smackingly tart lime juice and Luxardo folded inside. We watched our
charming server, who also appeared to be the bartender, whip back and forth,
serving the handful of tables outside as well as tables inside. While I admire his
impressive hustle, it also meant things took a while. I get it – quality takes time.
But we would have enjoyed more cocktails if it hadn’t taken so long. Anhelo could
benefit from another server in the evenings.
The bartender/server hustle also meant our appetizer came at the same time
as our dinner. Small quibble, until the amount of table space is factored into
the equation. Glasses of Scottsdale Blonde ($5), a couple of cocktails, water
glasses, water carafe (I love this touch – you don’t have to wait for refills), plus
plates equals an overfilled table. We tried the Shrimp Ceviche ($16) – a generous
serving of large shrimp poached in lime juice with cucumbers and avocado, served
in a bowl. Tender, sweet shrimp are the star of this dish. However, the rather
enormous slices of shrimp made them almost impossible to scoop onto the salty,
crisp tortilla chips. The only way to eat this dish effectively was to it scoop onto a
plate, slice the shrimp further, and then foist it onto a chip. Indelicate? Absolutely.
But it was scrumptious.
On this particular visit, the House Special Pasta ($14) was fettucine with
guanciale, which is essentially smoked or cured pig jowl – or, as my rather quirky
friends called it, pigface bacon. It’s fabulous. Well-made fresh pasta is a thing
of beauty when done correctly, and this was. Lashings of cream and grated
parmesan added flavor and highlighted the crunchy bits of guanciale. The huge
portion guarantees leftovers.
The Sweet Pea Risotto ($16) could use a little tweaking. This classic spring dish
comes topped with shavings of asparagus and microgreens. Despite being clearly
well-made, it lacked texture and felt like it was missing something. To me, that
could have been some fresh herbs. A smattering of fresh parsley and tarragon would
have elevated the dish. While it was made with care and with quality ingredients,
the lack of texture made it seem closer to cheesy oatmeal than risotto.
Our clear dinner winner was the Scallop ($29). I love that the menu refers to it in the
singular form, even though there were a half dozen perfectly cooked scallops on the
plate. One of my dining companions commented that someone loved that scallop
to death. Probably literally – it had the perfect sear and slightly sweet meaty flavor
you’d expect at a nice restaurant. Served over a sweet potato puree and lardon
hash, it’s presented in such a way that the shape looks like a crab. And it’s texturally
perfect, with the fine dice of lardons (more bacon!). We made loud scraping sounds
with our forks on the plate just so we knew nothing could possibly be left.
While Anhelo isn’t open for lunch, they are open for brunch. Their Eggs Benedict
($16) might be described as à la carte, as it comes on a long oval wooden tray. In
lieu of sides, three half English muffins arrive, supporting perfectly poached eggs
and a silky, lemony hollandaise. I adored their eggs benedict, and I would happily
skip sides for another half-muffin/egg/sauce combo, especially when it is this tasty.
Interestingly, at brunch we noticed the same bartender who had served us dinner.
Sitting inside, we were able to watch him practice his craft. He worked with care
to craft a Bloody Mary, using small straws to extract samples, with no cross germs
in play, until he gave a thumbs-up and we heard him say, “It’s perfect.” I believe it
was. I also believe having him only tend bar at brunch makes sense and allows the
meal to flow much more smoothly. I wish this could happen at dinner. I’m hopeful as
time progresses, they’ll add more staff.
If you love shrimp, please order their Prawns ($18). A half dozen or so enormous
shrimp are cooked in a spicy chipotle rub. And they’re perfectly cooked – these were
just spicy enough to wake your taste buds but not hot enough to cause culinary
regret. This large of a serving seems like a steal at the price, especially when you
consider the well-dressed arugula salad and the excellent scrambled eggs (French
style, my favorite: extra creamy and soft. Some might consider them underdone, but
no – this is the perfect execution of the style).
I’ll confess, I will always miss The Rose & Crown – it filled a niche and had its day
in the sun. It’s a huge gamble to follow a spot so well loved, especially when the
folks at the helm shake things up and go in an entirely new direction. Anhelo is
adorable and uses great ingredients to make tasty food that is clearly crafted with
love. I’m longing for more pasta already.
Anhelo
628 E. Adams, Phoenix
hiddenkitchenrestaurant.com
By Sloane Burwell
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Mitchell St.
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Photographer: Orlando Pelagio
Jewelry: Mitchell Street Metal
Styling: Alejandra Inzunza
Model: Jess Lawrie
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Palabras Bilingual Bookstore
Words, Herbs, and Art • By Jeff Kronenfeld
From Miguel de Cervantes’ more than
400-year-old comedy Don Quixote, to
the more recent brooding meditations
of Roberto Bolaño, Spanish-language
literature inspires readers and influences culture
across the globe. Despite the rich and growing
canon of Spanish letters, for the roughly one-third
of Valley residents who speak Spanish as their
first language, finding books in their native tongue
was almost impossible – until Palabras Bilingual
Bookstore opened in late 2016.
Now hosting a slew of events such as “POC It To
Me,” Cartonera Collective gatherings, and First
Friday art shows, Palabras is a perfect example of
how art can change the world. Rosaura “Chawa”
Magaña was inspired to establish the bookstore
after visiting Librería Donceles, a travelling exhibit
by artist and educator Pablo Helguera. Named
after a street in Mexico City
famous for its many used booksellers, the
installation is a pop-up Spanish-language
bookstore meant to expose the gap in the literary
landscapes of major US cities. Magaña’s visit left
her scratching her head, asking why a city as large
and diverse as Phoenix didn’t have a Spanish or
bilingual bookstore.
“The concept started out initially about
language,” Magaña explained, “but has become
much more than that; now it’s more about
cultural representation.” As Magaña reached out
to people, she heard over and over that Hispanics,
Native Americans, and other communities
of color in Phoenix felt underrepresented,
especially in the literary scene. More than just
a repository for books, Magaña wanted to create
a platform for marginalized voices to gather and
share their stories.
When her friend Elizabeth Kennedy Bayer, founder
of music non-profit Oh My Ears, approached
Magaña about sharing a space in the turquoisehued
La Melgosa building on Grand Avenue, she
didn’t hesitate. With a location secured and clear
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goals, Magaña was only missing one element
necessary for any successful bookstore:
books. With just a dozen or so titles on hand,
including Love in the Time of Cholera and a
text on herbs, Magaña reached out to friends
and community members for donations to help
build the store’s collection. With the help of
local media, the word spread. People came
out of the woodwork to donate books, express
support, and inquire about hosting events in the
space. From the very beginning, Palabras has truly
been a community effort.
A visit by Diné artist Jeff Slim proved particularly
fortuitous, garnering the store – and Magaña
herself – a new partner. It was the classic tale
of artist meets independent bookstore owner –
and cute enough to be worthy of a John Green
romcom. Slim has been making art since he was a
kid dreaming of becoming a comic book illustrator,
while learning the creation stories of his people
from his father and other family members.
Like many artists, Slim started out by going into
coffee shops, bars, and restaurants to ask who
curates the art. He also obtained some early
shows by slightly more subversive means, like
the time he got into a gallery on Roosevelt after
someone noticed his hand-painted flyers wheatpasted
around town. At 21 (he is now 33), Slim
was invited to join Black Sheep Art Collective,
a group of multiple generations of Native
artists collaborating on workshops and public art
projects and creating art for groups such as the
Black Mesa Water Coalition. Traveling across
the Navajo Nation one summer and into the
fall, Slim had the chance to work on numerous
murals. “That’s when I learned how to paint on a
larger scale,” he explained.
By the time Palabras moved into La Melgosa’s
storefront, Slim was already an established artist
with a studio in the back of the same building.
Wanting to support Magaña’s work in the
community, Slim offered to paint a mural for the
store. At least, that is how he recalls it. Magaña’s
account is slightly different, with her proposing
the mural. But regardless, Slim painted his first –
but far from last – mural for Palabras. Though he
refused to accept payment, wanting to donate his
time to what he saw as a worthy cause, he did
accept Magaña’s offers to share meals. “Because
we were spending all this extra time with each
other, eventually we became really good friends,”
Magaña recalled, as she began to blush.
“We realized we really liked each other more than
friends, so here we are, years later, and now we
share two cats.”
Partners in life and business, the two are now
Palabras co-owners, which – after a move to
a larger location on McDowell Road in 2017
– continues to expand its inventory, events,
workshops, and other activities. One of their most
successful events has been “POC It To Me,” a
monthly open mic showcasing a variety of works
from people of color (POC), everything from
storytelling, poetry, and stand-up, to music. The
only rule is no hate speech allowed.
The idea emerged from those early discussions
Magaña had with people who felt alienated from
and undervalued by the wider artistic community.
She wanted to create a safe space for people
of color to share their stories. Magaña initially
cohosted the event with her friend Amber
McCrary, a Diné writer and zine maker. When

McCrary headed out of state to pursue her MFA at
Mills College, poet Yolatl Perez served as cohost
for a time, though now Magaña mostly hosts on
her own. “It’s helped people be more open and
share their work and get out of their shells,”
Magaña said. “It’s the same thing for me too,
because I’m totally an introvert. It’s helped us all
grow as a community.”
Palabras also hosts art shows for First Friday,
with Slim taking the lead on these. Slim usually
integrates music and other performances into his
art openings, a tradition he continues at Palabras.
For June’s First Friday, they will be hosting a
show of photography and a series of musical
performances honoring the memory of Jake
Hoyungowa, a filmmaker and photographer.
Slim first met Hoyungowa, who was of Hopi and
Diné descent, while the two were growing up in
northern Arizona. While Slim made his name as
a visual artist and muralist, Hoyungowa pursued
photography and worked on films focusing on the
life and rights of indigenous people, with his film
The Rocket Boy premiering at Sundance in 2011.
Having recently reconnected, the two had planned
to showcase Hoyungowa’s photography before a
sudden tragedy last month took his life. However,
the show will go on, as a memorial honoring
Hoyungowa’s work and memory.
Truly a third space, Palabras hosts a dizzying array
of events organized by nonprofits or community
members – such as Cardboard House Press, which
publishes bilingual collections of writing, art, and
contemporary thought from the Spanish-speaking
world. They assemble their books in the store
through their Cartonera Collective.
Trans Queer Pueblo, an organization that provides
a range of vital services to LGBTQ+ migrants of
color, hosts a writing group called Creatures of
Our Dreams. Last Valentine’s Day, they held an
event where they wrote letters to incarcerated
individuals. William Ross, whose company Ashe
International provides immersive tours of Cuba,
hosts a number of events, such as a discussion of
mental health in communities of color, as well as a
monthly book club reading featuring the anthology
Boricuas: Influential Puerto Rican Writings. The list
goes on, including book launches, a Meet-up group
for people interested in learning Spanish, and even
self-defense classes. “We’re providing a platform
for people,” Magaña said.
Palabras also helps Magaña share her other
passion in life – plant medicine – through a small
but growing wellness section. Her company,
called SANA SANA Curandera Care, sells a range
of physical and spiritual plant-based healing
products such as a creosote salve, essential-oil
sprays, and a range of dried botanicals. Magaña
uses knowledge gained from studying herbalism
at the Southwest Institute of Healing Arts as well
as the teachings of her mother, who learned the
folk plant-based healing known as curandero from
her own mother and from nuns she lived with in
a convent in Mexico. “It sounds sort of bizarre, I
know, but it’s a true story,” Magaña explains with
a laugh. “Growing up, it was really normal to have
my mom take us out to the fields to gather malva
plants for a stomach flu, especially in the winter.
We’d harvest its roots and boil it for tea or put the
root on a towel on our stomachs.”
Much like the paintings by Slim adorning the
bookstore’s interior – featuring the artist wearing
a coyote mask while bathed in prisms of light,
perhaps chimerically paying homage to David
Bowie – everything Palabras does weaves
together the ancestral, traditional, and modern.
Whether through words, herbs, or art, Magaña
and Slim work tirelessly to foster a space where
people of diverse backgrounds gather to learn,
create, and heal together.
palabrasbookstore.com
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Photos: Maria Ramirez Echavarria
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Remember that night you had a little too
much of whatever and stumbled off your
friends’ path and down toward that inviting
lighted entry into Pan’s Woods? You were
off to a place in space and time offered only to the
mystically initiated and hermetically indoctrinated,
someplace far away from home, and someplace new
and exciting.
In those woods, you happened upon a carnival tent
that leaked heavy drum music and accordion sounds.
Voices shouted in English and Spanish. Hugs were
shared all around. There were sweet, dangerous men,
and lovely, far more dangerous women. The carnival
tent was full of barkers, freaks, contortionists,
jugglers, sword swallowers, fire breathers, popcorn
carts, liquor bottles, beer tubs, jokes, love, smiles,
and joy. Lovers grinded against each other, lottery
winners danced in jubilation, craps table roared in
the heat of play – and all the while, the band never
stopped playing. That band is Los Esplifs.
Los Esplifs play a unique cumbia-based sound
blended with Southwest psychedelia. Their music is
energized and communal – traditionally based and
undoubtedly mind opening, grinning, and ecstatic.
Their shows are lively – the group’s February show at
Last Exit Live was packed with people dancing and
smiling. The band has already played many shows
throughout the Southwest and Mexico, but they are
at home as a Phoenix band.
Saul Millan and Caleb Michel are the masterminds
behind the group. Los Esplifs are a collection of
some of the best and most inventive musicians in
Arizona. Hailing from areas of funk, punk, reggae,
cumbia, jazz, and other genres, it can be said that
the band comprises an all-star lineup pulled from
the Arizona music scene. On drums is Casey Hadland
of Mesquite and Vox Urbana, on guitars is Zack
Parker of Pro Teens, Chris Del Favero of Jerusafunk
holds it down on bass, Gus Woodrow of Mesquite
plays the guira, and the group is often joined by
saxophonist Alan Acosta.
The band is named after, well… “Listen, I don’t want
anyone to think we’re just a pot band or anything,”
Caleb Michel says with lighthearted concern. “I don’t
even smoke pot.”
Caleb is the percussionist and co-leader of Los
Esplifs. He is a master of the skins, and he gained his
rhythmic prowess by drumming with the likes of the
Cuban Afrobeat Allstars, Vox Urbana, Alassane, and
other top people in Phoenix music. His life’s work has
been dedicated to studying percussion, world rhythms,
and what moves the human hips and heart. He’s got
nothing against marijuana, but his concerns are fair
– the band is WAY more than “just a pot band.” The
music is complex, rich in heritage and experience,
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and it tackles controversial life issues and political
subject matter. All that said, the music also goes
great with a little, or a lot, of the band’s namesake.
And so, while Caleb is assuring me of his sobriety
and lack of love for the green stuff, Saul Millan is
grinning as if to say, Hey, on the other hand, and
when it’s his turn to speak he says, “Well, I do.”
To understand the humor that the pair finds in their
name, one must appreciate the anatomy of a spliff.
A spliff is one part headache-relieving, edge-cutting
tobacco and one part mellow-diving, sun-shining
marijuana, rolled into a not-too-tight cigar wrapper
and sparked for user enjoyment.
The pair laughs and explains that the original thought
was that Caleb represented the tobacco half of a
spliff, and Saul represented the greens, at least in spirit.
Their duality makes sense as soon as you see the band
play live. Caleb is tight, intense, and focused, and Saul is
affable, unhinged, and exultant. As a result, the spirit of
the band is a blend of the two forces.
Saul grew up in Nogales, Arizona, listening to all
different kinds of music. He explains that when he
was about 14 years old, he began to hear the seeds
of what he’d later recognize as cumbia rhythms being
used as samples in the music he was listening to. He
went on to perform many types of music, including
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cumbia. He plays multiple instruments, but ultimately
gravitated to the accordion as his main squeeze.
Caleb grew up in the Phoenix area playing percussion
and studying the percussion dialects of American and
African music. His first instrument was the claves.
And while the band certainly holds firm roots in Latin
American music, its ethos is something much larger
than regional classification – it’s something unique,
contemporary, and fun.
Caleb moonlights with Alassane, a project led by
pianist Alassane G. Diarra, and the band’s new
single, “Gabriel,” is an ambient and meandering
art-rock anthem that builds with a bite. Alassane’s
soothing piano work and haunting vocals are a
lullaby before the song explodes to its head-banging
peak. Caleb’s drum work drives the track and helps it
deliver its punch.
In February 2019, Los Esplifs travelled to Mexico City
to stay with a friend and record an EP. They were just
south of the city, in a smaller village, and had been
put up in a “modern art mansion,” as they describe
it. The band recorded outside, in the garden beside
the pool. Their new EP is the fruit of those labors, but
labor is far from how the guys recall their recording
experience. They talk about it as if it were a dream,
as if they were still confirming with each other that their
time in Mexico was real and tangible. Now, with the EP
released, the band is looking forward to spreading their
music as far as possible. It’s cumbia for the people, a
desert illusion, an instant Arizona staple.
The songs come from the band’s own experiences
and stories. “They’re about our friends, smoking
weed, and Phoenix life,” Saul explains. “It’s like if
King Krule made a cumbia record.” The lyrics are
about contemporary life, pulled from the stories of
people who surround the band. The whole group was
born and raised in Arizona. They’re tight-knit, and
their live shows emanate a vibe of community and
togetherness. Caleb and Saul say that they want their
shows to feel like a party, “like everyone’s hanging out.”
Caleb explains that the lyrics and music “are going
to be controversial at times to some people.” But, he
adds, “That’s just part of music. What matters most
is the inclusiveness.” So, while the nucleus of the
band is cumbia, the music expands far beyond its
conceptual foundation. It’s cumbia for a new age.
“This isn’t your parents’ cumbia,” the duo assures me
in recital. And they’re right – but your parents will
most likely want to catch a show and join you on the
floor. Los Esplifs crowds can’t help but dance. Put
quite simply, the band knows how to throw a killer
party. They play high-energy shows peppered with

slow jams for the dancing couples. The shows are reminiscent of block parties
and barbeques – the perfect music for the hazy vitality of a hot Phoenix night.
Los Esplifs released the single and video for “De Rodillas en el Altar” on April
20. The song is on their new EP. In the video, a red-haired, spaghetti-faced
woman dances through a technicolor desert landscape in search of truth,
passion, reality, and cumbia. It’s trippy (certainly), and weird (without a doubt).
The song feels like an exuberant offering to the cumbia gods. In the music, a
traditional cumbia rhythm repeats over the upstrokes of an electric guitar, while
Saul plays a hypnotizing melody on the accordion and calls out over the mic as
if to assemble the disciples of cumbia to join in the dance.
The musicians of Los Esplifs do not limit themselves. At the end of “De Rodillas
en el Altar,” the traditional rhythm escalates to a pounding psychedelic dance
beat capable of moving the mind and spirit of anyone who happens to slip into
the band’s psychic playground.
While Los Esplifs is tight, serious, and real – all good stuff – it’s important to
remember that this is a band of duality. The band’s other side is playful, tonguein-cheek,
and devilishly fun. Tobacco and marijuana. A strong and steady blend
of contrasting strengths that deliver a powerful sound and message for Phoenix
music fans to enjoy.
By the time this article is published, Los Esplifs will have wrapped their May
25 EP release at Valley Bar with Sunn Trio and Sgt. Papers. No doubt, it
was amazing. If you were there – you know. If you weren’t there – now you
know, and you need to grab the EP and get to the next Los Esplifs show as
soon as possible.
@losesplifs
What gets you excited when you look out your
window? This, our apartment community, it is the
heart of the Arts District: in Downtown Phoenix, rich
in character and culture. You are next door to the
Phoenix Art Museum, walking distance to Roosevelt
Row, steps from the light rail, and surrounded by
incredible local restaurants, boutiques and more.
222 E McDowell Road Phoenix, AZ 85004
(833) 266-4072
greenleafartsdistrict.com

GIRL ON FARMER
Bathroom Envy
BY CELIA BERESFORD
Bathrooms have been a real place of learning
and discovery for me. I’ve always wanted to do
a documentary about ladies’ bathrooms in bars,
highlighting the changes in the way people walk and
talk as the evening progresses. Not only how they
talk, but also what they talk about; both undergo
some changes from happy hour to last call. I realize
there would be a lot of privacy and ethics issues to
deal with in a bathroom documentary, so the idea
never went anywhere.
We used to go out to big family dinners a lot when
I was growing up. Once dessert was finished, the
adults at the table would decide it was time to relax.
At the same time me, my brother, and my cousin
were ready to go home, the adults in my family
were moving from wine to cocktails and after-dinner
drinks. We kids knew we had at least another hour
before the check was even brought to the table, so
we amused ourselves ordering virgin cocktails and
daring each other to eat the butter and sugar packets
on the table.
Once that game was over, it was time to head to
the bathrooms for a change of scenery. I don’t know
what happens in New Jersey Italian restaurants
these days, but back then in the ladies’ room, there
was usually a woman attendant, who looked very
bored and tired. She would wipe down the counter
and lay out a selection of prep and perk tools for
bathroom patrons to use: hairspray, a comb, bobby
pins, and perfume, all in hopes of getting a tip. From
what I remember, these things did not look new and
shiny, but instead like they had been pulled from the
attendant’s purse, as if you were acquaintances and
you were just borrowing her things. Because of their
predictable net worth, kids were typically ignored.
But this meant you could hide out in the stall and
listen to what the adults were saying for a long time
without being noticed.
I have to pee so frequently that I’m sure some bored
bar flies are speculating that I have a coke habit.
Actually, it’s just my bladder showing signs of wear
and tear. I’m still seriously considering making the
move to Depends or something similar. I just can’t
be bothered going to the bathroom so many times! I
notice there are a lot of ads for bladder protection, an
advertiser’s euphemism for urine protection. No one
is protecting me from my bladder. It’s the pee I don’t
38 JAVA
MAGAZINE

I have to pee so frequently that I’m sure some bored
bar flies are speculating that I have a coke habit.
Actually, it’s just my bladder showing signs of wear
and tear. I’m still seriously considering making the
move to Depends or something similar.
want an encounter with. In my mind, these products must have come far since
they were first developed. I picture them looking like an oversized maxi-pad, but
to hold pee instead of blood. But I’m wrong about that.
My friend Jenn said she had something for me. It was a coupon for “bladder
protection underwear” that claimed to be subtle and, yes, even sexy. Have you
ever seen a pull-up? The diapers kids can pull up and down to pee or just throw
away in case of an accident? The sides are very easy to tear off. This is what
was in the advertisement. Only it was peach colored and had a few flowers on
it, so that should be enough to make an adult feel totally fine wearing one, right?
The woman in the ad was tall and svelte and tried to make it look like she was
wearing lingerie. Call it underwear all you want – we know it’s a diaper. And it
does not look cute.
Since I’m not able to embrace my adult pee pad just yet, I get to spend lots of
time in the bathroom throughout the night conducting research. On a recent trip,
I waited behind a lady who didn’t seem too chatty, but it was early, so this was
normal. A minute later another woman with short red hair came in and stood in
line behind me. “My god! Look at that hair,” Lady 1 said. “It. Is. GORGEOUS!”
She continued to fawn all over the redhead and went on to compliment her
outfit, shoes, and probably how nice her teeth were. When she was done with
her smattering of praise, she turned back to the stall and continued to wait. And
I continued to wait for my turn for a little something. At this point I would have
taken anything and turned it into a compliment. She could have said, “Look, you
have hair too,” and I would have been excited. Jeez, I thought. Sure, she does
have cute hair and everything, but I mean, really.
I had talked myself into getting over it and taken the karmic approach, thinking
maybe it was a sign of being graceful or something deep as hell like that. I tried
thinking the redhead probably was having a bad day or she must have needed
to hear kind words more than I did. Just when I was about to slip into a full
meditation, Lady 3 walks out of the stall. The Complimenter goes f*cking crazy
about her hair and outfit, too. She hyperventilated over her beautiful skin and
turquoise purse. I tried not to take it personally as I waited my turn for the stall,
but deep down I was secretly hoping she’d say just one nice thing to me.
As I grabbed my crotch and crossed my legs in an attempt to quell the pee, the
Complimenter exited the stall. I smiled in anticipation. But she walked to the
sink without a word. I didn’t see her for the rest of the night. Maybe it was a
sign after all, only not as deep as I initially thought. Maybe the sign was: Go get
yourself some diapers. They look cute!

NIGHT
GALLERY
Photos By
Robert Sentinery
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1. Tondra explores the Arcosanti cliffs
2. Mikey B is pirate chic at Runway of Hope 2019
3. Phoenix fashionistas Rielle, Irene and Brian, ROH 2019
4. Checking out the fine art at Found:Re
5. Kristin Bauer is a featured artist at FORM
6. Food Network stars at Nirvana Food & Wine After Party
7. Phoenix beauties at Loop Architectural Materials
8. Chopped champion Nick LaRosa from Nook Kitchen
9. Ashley, Titus and friend working the bars at FORM
10. TV news guy and his lady at Nirvana After Party
11. Star-tender Jason Asher, Nirvana After Party at Fat Ox
VISIT
US
ONLINE
w w w . J A V A M A G A Z . c o m

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12. 23rd anniversary of Wendell Burnette Architects 5/23/19
13. Gaeliel and Rani at the Nirvana After Party
14. Hot sax with this French DJ, Nirvana part at Fat Ox
15. Photo pro Debby Wolvos at Fat Ox
16. Peter and pal at Loop Architectural Materials
17. Intergalactic style at Runway of Hope
18. Artist Alana Christine at {9} gallery
19. Faces in the crowd at Nirvana After Party
20. Rockin’ the Liberty style at ROH 2019
21. Double red, or double white?
22. Andrea and Bill at Ocotillo
23. JT from Pour Amor slinging drinks at Loop
24. Chef Christopher and friends at the Nirvana After Party
25. Jillian Vose in town from NYC to mix at Fat Ox
26. Nirvana After Party attendees
27. Lalita and friends, Loop Architectural Materials opening
28. On the ROH 2019 runway
29. Dapper dudes partying at Fat Ox

Register for Summer/Fall
enroll-maricopa.com
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consideration for employment without regard to race, color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity, age, or national origin. A lack of English language skills will not be a barrier to admission and
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30. This mixologist is in town from Miami Beach
31. Celeb chef Bruce Kalman cooks at the Nirvana After Party
32. Becca and friend stop by the Lodge on Grand Ave
33. This trio checks out the art at Found:Re
34. Beauties in black at Fat Ox
35. Rockin’ it ’80s style at the Nirvana party
36. Sylvia Frost is the artist behind the curtain at 515 Arts
37. These guys look pretty dangerous
38. Painting for the crowds at Runway of Hope
39. ROH 2019 styling by Weezy’s Playhouse
40. Tieken Gallery opening with Nicole and Kylie
41. Daniel Joseph Martinez, Lenhardt Lecture at PAM
42. Light a candle for the Runway of Hope
43. Good times, Nirvana After Party at Fat OX
44. Rielle can walk the walk
45. Holly and pal at the Tieken Gallery
46. Snapped these guys at the Loop party
47. Documenting ROH 2019 for Modern Luxury

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48. Pre-runway show fun
49. Oscar and Gary & friend at Runway of Hope
50. Space age chic at ROH
51. Fashion for a great cause
52. Meghan Pearce found of Runway of Hope
53. Campsite neighbors at FORM
54. Styled by Weezy’s Playhouse for ROH
55. Pussy Riot on stage at FORM Arcosanti
56. Lovely Swedes in town for FORM
57. Runway walker at ROH
58. Flower children at FORM
59. Best seat in the house for FORM Arcosanti
60. Another appearance by JT from Pour Amor
61. More ROH 2019 highlights
62. GT’s Kombucha crew at FORM
63. Channel Tres FORM set was super fun
64. Rockin’ the stonewashed
65. Menswear on the runway at ROH

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66. Oscar gets caught in the balloons
67. Mural touch up at FORM Arcosanti
68. Fire-themed segment at ROH
69. Tondra and Adam in the media tent at FORM
70. Fear the glove! ROH 2019
71. Christian’s multi-dimensional paintings at Unexpected
72. Khruangbin jams at FORM
73. FORM people Lani, Mitch and Davina
74. Anna Vivette does an a-cappella opera set at FORM
75. Dirty Drummer partners Andrew, Tom and Dana
76. Mitch and Susan, Dirty Drummer friends & family opening
77. Lauren with Jesse and his bro
78. Cocktail artiste Chadwick and his gal
79. August Manley’s set at the Dirty Drummer private opening
80. Michelle and Lisa check out the Dirty Drummer
81. Dirty Drummer friends & family fete
82. More fun at the Dirty Drummer
83. Celebrating Wendell Burnette Architects 23rd

Enjoy the smooth
sounds of the
SATURDAYS
8 - 11:45pm
HAPPY HOUR 4-7 • CLOSED MONDAYS
5749 N. 7TH ST. PHOENIX, AZ 85014 | THEWOMACK.US

summer @smoca
Visit SMoCA this summer and enjoy three diverse exhibitions: southwestNET I Shizu Saldamando,
Divergent Materiality: Contemporary Glass Art, and Mutual Reality: Art on the Edge of Technology.
Summer Opening Celebration: June 7, 7 p.m., Free
southwestNET I Shizu Saldamando is organized by the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art. Curated by Director and Chief Curator Jennifer McCabe.
Sponsored by The Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts.
Divergent Materiality: Contemporary Glass Art is organized by the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art and Assistant Curator of Contemporary Art Lauren
R. O'Connell. Generous support provided by The Arizona Glass Alliance, Judy and Stuart Heller, Linda and Sherman Saperstein, Sharon and Fred Schomer,
Penelope and Richard Post, Gail and Dan Tenn, and Lori and Michael Carmel. Installation design by Jay Atherton, Clay Studio.
Mutual Reality: Art on the Edge of Technology is organized by the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art. Curated by Curator of Programming Julie Ganas.
Image: Shizu Saldamando, Grace and Ira, Golden Hour At and Despite Steele Indian School Park, 2019. Mixed media on wood, 48 × 72 inches. Courtesy of the artist
SMoCA.org I 7374 East Second Street, Scottsdale, Arizona 85251 I 480-874-4666