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284 •NOV 20<strong>19</strong><br />

GINO<br />

BELASSEN<br />

MERRYN ALAKA & MIGUEL MONZON • MEDIO COMPLETO • GRACE ROLLAND


Opening<br />

<strong>Nov</strong>ember 8<br />

Step inside one of Africa’s most<br />

powerful and enduring art forms<br />

In partnership with<br />

Presenting sponsor<br />

MIM.org | Open Daily 9 a.m.–5 p.m. | 4725 E. Mayo Blvd., Phoenix


David Hockney’s Yosemite<br />

David Hockney, Yosemite I, October 16th 2011<br />

iPad drawing printed on four sheets of paper (38 7/8 x 34 7/8” each), mounted on four sheets of Dibond. Edition 1 of 12,<br />

77 3/4 x 69 3/4” overall. © David Hockney, Photo Credit: Richard Schmidt<br />

Collection The David Hockney Foundation


Masters of California Basketry<br />

Experience the work of one of the World’s greatest<br />

living artists together with the Masters of California Basketry<br />

only at the Heard Museum<br />

FOR A LIMITED TIME | OCTOBER 28, 20<strong>19</strong> – APRIL 5, 2020<br />

Heard.org/Hockney<br />

Carrie Bethel, Mono Lake Paiute, 1898-<strong>19</strong>74<br />

Bowl basket, <strong>19</strong>56. 13 x 25 inches. Split sedge root, dyed bracken fern root, split winter redbud<br />

shoots, willow shoots. Collection of Stevia Thompson.<br />

Photo Credit: Craig Smith, Heard Museum.


CONTENTS<br />

8<br />

12<br />

22<br />

30<br />

34<br />

FEATURES<br />

Cover: Gino Belassen<br />

Photo by: Susan Allred Prosser<br />

8 12 22<br />

34<br />

SHERRI & GINO BELASSEN<br />

The Mother & Son Duo Behind<br />

Belhaus Gallery<br />

By Susan Allred Prosser<br />

MERRYN ALAKA AND MIGUEL<br />

MONZÓN<br />

Modified Arts Turns 20 and Looks Forward<br />

By Rembrandt Quiballo<br />

CHANGING WINDS<br />

Photographer, Stylist, Creative Director:<br />

Rachel Callahan<br />

ALL OF US TOGETHER<br />

Art, Water, Community, and Culture<br />

By Morgan Moore<br />

GRACE ROLLAND<br />

Rising Sun Daughter<br />

By Tom Reardon<br />

COLUMNS<br />

7<br />

16<br />

20<br />

38<br />

40<br />

BUZZ<br />

<strong>Nov</strong>ember Together<br />

By Robert Sentinery<br />

ARTS<br />

Jennifer McCabe<br />

Curating Counter-Landscapes at SMoCA<br />

By Grant Vetter<br />

Brian Boner<br />

American Playground<br />

By Jenna Duncan<br />

FOOD FETISH<br />

Through the Doors of Persepshen<br />

By Sloane Burwell<br />

GIRL ON FARMER<br />

Showtime<br />

By Celia Beresford<br />

NIGHT GALLERY<br />

Photos by Robert Sentinery<br />

<strong>JAVA</strong> MAGAZINE<br />

EDITOR & PUBLISHER<br />

Robert Sentinery<br />

ART DIRECTOR<br />

Victor Vasquez<br />

ARTS EDITOR<br />

Rembrandt Quiballo<br />

FOOD EDITOR<br />

Sloane Burwell<br />

CONTRIBUTING EDITOR<br />

Jenna Duncan<br />

CONTRIBUTING WRITERS<br />

Celia Beresford<br />

Mikey Foster Estes<br />

Kevin Hanlon<br />

Morgan Moore<br />

Ashley Naftule<br />

John Perovich<br />

Susan Allred Prosser<br />

Tom Reardon<br />

Grant Vetter<br />

Justen Siyuan Waterhouse<br />

PROOFREADER<br />

Patricia Sanders<br />

CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS<br />

Rachel Callahan<br />

Enrique Garcia<br />

Johnny Jaffe<br />

ADVERTISING<br />

(602) 574-6364<br />

Java Magazine<br />

Copyright © 20<strong>19</strong><br />

All rights reserved.<br />

Reproduction in whole or in part of any text, photograph<br />

or illustration is strictly prohibited without the written<br />

permission of the publisher. The publisher does not<br />

assume responsibility for unsolicited submissions.<br />

Publisher assumes no liability for the information<br />

contained herein; all statements are the sole opinions<br />

of the contributors and/or advertisers.<br />

<strong>JAVA</strong> MAGAZINE<br />

PO Box 45448 Phoenix, AZ 85064<br />

email: javamag@cox.net<br />

tel: (480) 966-6352<br />

www.javamagaz.com<br />

6 <strong>JAVA</strong><br />

MAGAZINE


BUZZ<br />

NOVEMBER TOGETHER<br />

By Robert Sentinery<br />

This month, we delve into the idea of collaboration, and how working together<br />

can create a whole that’s greater than the sum of its parts. On Roosevelt Row,<br />

Modified Arts has been a longstanding staple. Established as a music venue<br />

and creative space in the late ’90s by avid localist Kimber Lanning, Modified<br />

was at the forefront of the First Friday boom that brought art-hungry crowds<br />

downtown. Now, as the space turns 20, having survived the twists and turns of<br />

the marketplace, a new gallerist duo, appointed by Lanning, is bringing a fresh<br />

perspective to the space.<br />

Merryn Alaka and Miguel Monzón are both recent art school graduates. They<br />

come from diverse backgrounds. Alaka’s father was born in Nigeria and was<br />

attending pharmacy school in Indianapolis when he met and married her mother.<br />

Monzón is a first-generation American, born to Mexican immigrant parents,<br />

who spent his formative years here in the Valley. Together, Alaka and Monzón<br />

bring unique, multifaceted perspective to Modified Arts, curating shows that are<br />

extremely relevant to our current state of culture (see “Merryn Alaka and Miguel<br />

Monzón: Modified Arts Turns 20 and Looks Forward,” p. 12).<br />

Another duo – the mother and son team of Sherri and Gino Belassen – is shaking<br />

up the art scene on Grand Avenue. Their Belhaus Gallery (a fusion of their last name<br />

with “Bauhaus,” the venerable German design school/movement) shows work by local<br />

and international artists, including their own. It’s also a place to grab an excellent<br />

espresso drink, whenever the gallery’s distinctive roll-up garage door is open.<br />

Sherri has been a full-time artist for decades, having hustled in the studio<br />

while raising her two boys as a single mother. When a sports injury got Gino<br />

thinking about a different career track than what was expected (his dad is a<br />

sports agent), Sherri was one-hundred-percent supportive of his turn to art.<br />

Gino’s recent painting show at Shortcut Gallery was a smash success, attended<br />

by a who’s-who of the local creative scene (see “Sherri and Gino Belassen: The<br />

Mother & Son Duo Behind Belhaus Gallery,” p. 8).<br />

Water is the lifeblood of our arid desert city. In 2018, the Arizona Community<br />

Foundation launched the Water Public Art Challenge, a competition calling for<br />

projects that explored ancient water systems developed by the “Hohokam”<br />

people. One of the most impressive entries was a collaboration between<br />

Audubon Arizona, the Huhugam Heritage Center (serving the contemporary<br />

tribes descended from the “Hohokam”), and a local artist collective called Medio<br />

Completo, composed primarily of Latinx creatives.<br />

These three groups joined forces under the moniker Vesich eth ve:m, which<br />

translates to “all of us together,” to produce a multimedia immersive art<br />

experience titled We Are Still Here. Composed of soundscapes, sculptures,<br />

augmented-reality murals, film projections, bookmaking, and performance, it<br />

tells stories of Huhugam history, woven together with the community’s continued<br />

connection to the river. We Are Still Here culminates in a one-night-only<br />

performance on Saturday, <strong>Nov</strong>ember 16, 6:30 to 8:00 p.m. at the Nina Mason<br />

Pulliam Rio Salado Audubon Center (see “All of Us Together:<br />

Art, Water, Community, and Culture,” p. 30).


8 <strong>JAVA</strong><br />

MAGAZINE<br />

Photo: Susan Allred Prosser


Sherri Belassen greets visitors to her gallery and studio with a warm smile<br />

and a large, loping Weimaraner named Bizou. Her son Gino, just a few steps<br />

behind, has an equally engaging smile.<br />

The morning sun is pouring in through the open garage door at Belhaus Gallery,<br />

where a select group of minimalist contemporary paintings hang in a space custombuilt<br />

to house the art and a gleaming espresso machine. The machine is topped by a<br />

collection of espresso and coffee cups sourced from Scandinavia.<br />

Artists’ work from all over the globe – from New York to London to Poland then back<br />

around to Los Angeles and Phoenix – complete the cosmopolitan vibe at Belhaus. Even<br />

the gallery’s name is a mashup of the owners’ last name and the Bauhaus art movement.<br />

As we pass behind the espresso machine to duck into a bright, open space containing<br />

two studios, Sherri offers a coffee and waves her hand. “This is where we work,” she<br />

says. “The coffee and the gallery [up front] help form a sense of community.”<br />

“It works very well, too,” Gino adds. “We have people drive in from Chandler, all<br />

around really, to come hang out in the gallery and drink Fio’s coffee.”<br />

Fio is Anthony Fiorelli, the owner of Caffio Espresso, which operates from Belhaus<br />

during gallery hours (Thursday – Sunday, 10 a.m. – 2 p.m.) and at various markets<br />

and private events from the back of a Vespa Apé truck. “We couldn’t make it here<br />

without Fio,” Gino continues. “When he’s here, the gallery is open and we don’t<br />

have to worry about anything. We can take care of our own work.”<br />

For Gino, that work is varied and wide ranging. He studied design and advertising<br />

before earning a BFA from Chapman University in Orange County. He’s working with<br />

a friend on building BonesFC (Bones Football Collective), where soccer fandom,<br />

apparel, and art meet.<br />

Gino’s paintings are minimalist contemporary, like the artists Belhaus represents.<br />

“We want to make sure that it all works well together. It has to blend well. All of<br />

our work, mine, my mom’s, and our artists’, can hang together cohesively,” he said.<br />

But an art career wasn’t Gino’s original plan. As a soccer player at Arcadia High, Gino<br />

grew up thinking he’d work in sports. “I was very lucky to play with a creative coach<br />

who encouraged me to think improvisationally on the field. I learned quick thinking<br />

and had an internal understanding of the game,” he says.<br />

“I thought both the boys might be sports agents like their dad,” Sherri said. But that<br />

wasn’t to be. An injury in high school sidelined Gino for two years, so he started<br />

thinking about what to do while he waited to get back on the field.<br />

“I always saw my mom painting, and I saw how hard she worked to make her art<br />

and to support us,” he says. “During that two years [spent recuperating], I started<br />

thinking about how to channel my creativity into painting.”<br />

As a single mother with two boys to support, Sherri never thought about doing<br />

anything other than making and selling her art. She didn’t see any reason why Gino<br />

should do anything else, either. Sherri had always encouraged him to paint as a<br />

child, and Gino didn’t think that being an artist was out of the ordinary.<br />

“I’m so lucky,” he says. “I have a lot of friends who want to be artists, and they<br />

have to get permission from their parents to study art. It’s always a negotiation with<br />

them. My mom just said, ‘Yeah, go be an artist.’”<br />

Sherri immediately agrees. “I told him to go paint. If that’s what you want, go and paint.”<br />

But she also passed down some practical wisdom from her own mother. “Mom<br />

always used to say that if anything is worth doing, it’s worth doing well. I’ve always<br />

applied that to my life and to my art,” she says.<br />

Photo: Lorenzo Belassen, @lorenzobelassen<br />

She came by those heartland values honestly. Sherri was raised in Indiana, and<br />

earned a BFA in painting from Indiana University in Bloomington. While she was<br />

in college, her parents bought the town of Tortilla Flat, so she came to Arizona<br />

after graduation. She soon met a gallerist from Dallas who offered to represent<br />

her. That allowed her to get a studio in downtown Phoenix. So for her, finding<br />

studio space in the Bragg Pie Factory building is a return to her artistic roots.<br />

“I’ve come full circle by working down here again,” she says.<br />

Sherri rented the space three years ago during a downsizing period. She wanted a<br />

studio that wasn’t in her now-smaller home. The impetus for creating the gallery<br />

came from Gino. After college, he applied to an art fair in Australia. The notice<br />

that he’d been accepted prompted him to complete about 20 pieces in two and<br />

half months. He sold 13 pieces at the fair and realized that he had what it took to<br />

create and sell his work.<br />

<strong>JAVA</strong> 9<br />

MAGAZINE


Photo: Cole Seefus, @cseef<br />

When he returned to the States, Gino and Sherri put their heads together to decide<br />

where he should head next. “Obviously, I thought about New York,” he said.<br />

“He could have gone nearly anywhere,” Sherri chimes in. “We have family in Paris,<br />

Spain, Copenhagen. There were so many possibilities.” Gino takes up the story<br />

again. “But I kept coming back to Phoenix and looking around. This is home. I grew<br />

up here. I realized that I wanted to stay.”<br />

So one evening while he was visiting Sherri at her new studio, he looked around at<br />

all the space, then filled with overflow from her downsizing. “I realized that there’s<br />

enough space here for two studios. And so I started helping Mom get rid of all that<br />

extra stuff,” he said.<br />

Soon the two Belassens were living and working together. They both say it’s a great<br />

situation for them. In one way, ironing out their differences in work style led to<br />

creating the gallery. Sherri likes long hours of solitude while she works. But Gino<br />

loves being around people and making new friends. He quickly realized that the<br />

growing crowds around the other galleries on Grand Avenue presented a chance to<br />

build the community he’d wanted to find back when he was exploring moving to a<br />

larger city with more opportunities for artists.<br />

“I realized that we could be a part of building that culture right here. I want<br />

that culture, and this is home, so why not figure out how to create the culture I<br />

want?” But first he had to find a way to integrate the space and pull traffic from<br />

Grand Avenue. Belhaus is located on McKinley, around the corner from the main<br />

foot traffic on First and Third Fridays. So they built a couple of movable walls to<br />

separate the gallery from their studios. Gino also knew that he wanted to bring in<br />

an expert to run the coffee shop that he hoped would draw people in. So he went<br />

on Instagram and looked for what he needed.<br />

“I found Fio pretty quickly and Instagram-messaged him. He showed up here<br />

within an hour. Before he left, we all felt like family,” he said.<br />

“Yes,” laughed Sherri. “I call him my third kid.” To draw people in from the street,<br />

Gino and Sherri installed strip LED lighting around the garage door. You can see<br />

the bright lights from Grand Avenue when the gallery is open, but the lighting has<br />

another, more community-oriented purpose.<br />

10 <strong>JAVA</strong><br />

MAGAZINE


Photo: Cole Seefus, @cseef<br />

“People come and take selfies when the garage door is down,” Gino said, showing<br />

Instagram pictures of kids framed against the door after dark. They intentionally<br />

installed the light switch outside the building so people could use the lighting to take<br />

their photos. “We love it when people use the gallery as a backdrop,” Sherri said. She<br />

just wants everybody to remember to turn the lights back off when they’re done.<br />

The Belassens say they weren’t especially prescient about the center of gravity<br />

that was building in the Grand Avenue art scene. But they feel fortunate to be a<br />

part of the community there. The gallery will have extended hours (10 a.m. to 8<br />

p.m.) for the Grand Avenue Festival on <strong>Nov</strong>ember 9.<br />

They’re getting ready for a show set to open on December 6, called “Bad<br />

Neighborhood.” Caffio Espresso will be open, and they’ll have live music outside.<br />

The show will feature their own work, plus that of Preston Paperboy, one of<br />

their represented artists. “We’re still deciding who else to include,” said Gino.<br />

“The name of the show and the names of the pieces we’re choosing are a little<br />

tweak for some people who might still have the idea that artists only work in bad<br />

parts of town.”<br />

That couldn’t be further from reality, says Sherri. She points out that while<br />

it’s true that artists have always been at the forefront of gentrification of the<br />

neighborhoods they live in, Grand Avenue has changed in the three years that<br />

she’s been there. There are more galleries and more coffee shops and restaurants<br />

opening all the time.<br />

The building across McKinley from the gallery has been vacant for years, Gino<br />

said. But it recently sold to someone who’d been watching the neighborhood<br />

become more commercial.<br />

“He told us that he felt comfortable buying that building by seeing us succeed. I<br />

feel really good about that,” he said.<br />

And he should. Belhaus Gallery is helping to create a sense of culture that the<br />

Belassens want to live and work in.<br />

<strong>JAVA</strong> 11<br />

MAGAZINE


Merryn Alaka and Miguel Monzón<br />

Modified Arts Turns 20 and Looks Forward<br />

By Rembrandt Quiballo<br />

12 <strong>JAVA</strong><br />

MAGAZINE<br />

Photo: Rembrandt Quiballo


Miguel Monzón, “Searching” 20<strong>19</strong><br />

As Roosevelt Row undergoes drastic<br />

changes, Modified Arts has been a bedrock,<br />

although not without going through its<br />

own evolution. Founded by longtime<br />

community leader Kimber Lanning, it embodies the<br />

spirit of downtown Phoenix in its ability to persevere<br />

and adapt.<br />

Modified Arts started out as a music and<br />

performance venue in <strong>19</strong>99 and transitioned to an<br />

art gallery in 2010. Local First Arizona and its offices<br />

took residence in the space in 2013, allowing the<br />

gallery to be open full time. In 2018, it went through<br />

renovations that would define the storefront gallery<br />

as what it is now.<br />

Through it all, Modified Arts has shown some of the<br />

best contemporary art in the Valley. This is thanks<br />

to the people who put in the hard work behind the<br />

scenes. It continues to evolve and looks to the future<br />

by entrusting its programming to two individuals with<br />

diverse backgrounds: Merryn Alaka, a transplant from<br />

the Midwest, and Miguel Monzón, a first-generation<br />

Mexican-American who grew up in Phoenix.<br />

As such a young city, Phoenix is not burdened with<br />

tradition like other major metropolitan areas. These<br />

two up-and-coming artists/curators in the local scene<br />

embody the forward thinking that Modified Arts has<br />

always been known for. Both fresh out of art school,<br />

they have been learning on the job, with a knowledge<br />

of the past and bright eyes toward the future.<br />

Merryn Alaka was born and raised in Indianapolis,<br />

Indiana. Her Nigerian father was in the pharmacy<br />

program at Purdue University when he met her<br />

American mother, then studying nutrition and<br />

dietetics. They would marry and have three kids, with<br />

Merryn being the youngest. Her immediate family<br />

was more into the hard sciences than the creative<br />

arts. However, Alaka had an aunt, a practicing artist,<br />

who made an impression on her as an adolescent.<br />

“I didn’t have a direct art influence in my immediate<br />

family,” she said. “Growing up, I always wanted to<br />

be really close with my cool aunt. She is actually an<br />

artist. I definitely admired her – I thought she was<br />

really great. She mostly did collage-based work. I<br />

looked up to her and was inspired by her.”<br />

Alaka became even more interested in art when<br />

she attended a high school specializing in the arts.<br />

Eventually she would enter the Herberger Institute<br />

for Design and the Arts at Arizona State University.<br />

She was attracted to the quality of the program and<br />

the fact that it was far from home. She would be<br />

challenged by her professors to create work that she<br />

cared about. “I had a critique in class once,” she said.<br />

“My teacher just totally tore my work apart and was<br />

like, ‘This doesn’t even seem like something you’re<br />

passionate about.’ After that critique, I cried.”<br />

Alaka would grow as an artist in school by<br />

overcoming adversity. She would look within herself<br />

to examine what she was passionate about. Her<br />

father always had an appreciation for art, especially<br />

art from his hometown of Lagos, Nigeria, such as<br />

rugs and textiles. Alaka began exploring her heritage<br />

diligently and would be inspired to make work about<br />

her unique background.<br />

After her parents divorced, Alaka grew apart from<br />

her father, but her renewed interest in her family<br />

history rekindled their relationship. She would<br />

take old family photographs and incorporate them<br />

with African motifs, creating pieces that were<br />

aesthetically seductive but evocative of a deeper<br />

personal history.<br />

Being a transplant, Alaka was not yet aware of the<br />

thriving art scene in Phoenix and saw Modified Arts<br />

as a way to get involved. She started working at the<br />

gallery just as Miguel Monzón was taking over as<br />

director for the space. “Miguel and I, we get along<br />

<strong>JAVA</strong> 13<br />

MAGAZINE


Merryn Alaka, “Not Your Mixed Baby Fetish”<br />

Miguel Monzón, “Angel” 20<strong>19</strong><br />

really well,” she said. “I think we make a good pair at Modified. We kind of had<br />

the same idea for the type of work we wanted to show at the gallery. We wanted<br />

something unique each month or something different. We didn’t want to just have<br />

painting shows or drawing shows. I mean, we do those, but we also wanted the<br />

work to have some conceptual meaning.”<br />

Miguel Monzón was born in San Bernardino, California. His parents came to the<br />

U.S. from Mexico, making him a first-generation American. His family moved to<br />

Las Vegas for a couple of years, then on to Phoenix for good. Monzón grew up in<br />

the Valley and feels much affection for the area. “When people ask me, ‘Where<br />

you from?’ I’m just like, pretty much I’m from Phoenix, man. I grew up here. All my<br />

youth was spent here. I was on the streets skating, you know – Phoenix is home.”<br />

He drew voraciously growing up. He would render people and creatures from<br />

real life as well as his imagination. After high school, Monzón started attending<br />

community college. He knew he had the talent for art but that things wouldn’t<br />

come easy. “It was that whole period of what are you going to do with your life?”<br />

he said. “I was aware that art was not an easy path. It was going to be a lot of<br />

work. You’re going to have to be self-motivated to do this. No one’s going to make<br />

you do anything. I just decided to go with art and follow my passion. I started<br />

trying to learn about art as much as possible. Honestly, I didn’t set foot into a<br />

museum until I was like 18.”<br />

This delayed exposure to the arts would not deter Monzón, it would just make<br />

him even more determined. He started watching documentaries about art, reading<br />

books about artists, and, of course, going to art museums. He came at art with a<br />

fresh outlook. He learned about the tradition of painting and the masters, but he<br />

was attracted to the ideas conveyed by the work.<br />

Merryn Alaka, “America(nah)”<br />

“I realized that I was more interested in the concept or what was behind the work,”<br />

he said. “What is it that made you make this piece? What does it mean? So because of<br />

that, I chose to go into intermedia. Then also, I had learned about these other artists<br />

that were doing work that’s not just something on a wall. I was interested in<br />

learning more about non-traditional art, so that’s when I transferred to ASU.”<br />

Monzón as a maker is not tied to any medium. He works in all kinds of media,<br />

from drawing to printmaking to video. He chooses the medium that will best<br />

express his ideas for each body of work. This leads to the creation of diverse<br />

artworks. He is always experimenting with materials and ideas, relentless in his<br />

pursuit of a higher truth, but always remembering where he came from.<br />

Alaka and Monzón took all the knowledge learned in school and put it into<br />

practice when they started working at Modified Arts. They both had a willingness<br />

to learn and a positive attitude of wanting to contribute to the art scene. Kimber<br />

Lanning took a chance on them, and they’ve been paying dividends since then.<br />

“I was basically assisting Connor Descheemaker (Modified’s former gallery<br />

director),” Monzón said. “Trying to absorb what it’s like to run an art gallery. At the<br />

time, he was working for Local First also. He was just inundated with work, and<br />

then he was doing Modified on the side. Anything I could help with – that was<br />

what I was there for.”<br />

“It’s been great to have the support from Kimber Lanning,” Alaka said. “She leaves<br />

a lot of the things to us, but she’s always been so supportive. She wants us to use<br />

the space however we see fit.”<br />

They put forth their vision of what they want to show at the gallery in a thoughtful<br />

manner. The first show Monzón fully curated was called Within and Without, a<br />

14 <strong>JAVA</strong><br />

MAGAZINE


AN ART<br />

BOUTIQUE HOTEL<br />

with inspiration<br />

and comfort in the<br />

HEART OF<br />

DOWNTOWN<br />

PHOENIX<br />

Merryn Alaka, “It’s Mine, I Bought It”collab with Sam Fresquez<br />

printmaking group exhibition that explored the artists’ inner visions and how<br />

they relate to the external world.<br />

Alaka curated one of the most important shows in Phoenix last year,<br />

Americana. It featured artists of African lineage, all based in Arizona, who<br />

were exploring racial identity in the context of our current political climate.<br />

In the meantime, Modified Arts will be celebrating its 20th anniversary through<br />

a historical exhibition of photographs and memorabilia, along with a showcase of<br />

artists who have shown there in the past. It will be a celebration of the gallery’s<br />

standing in downtown Phoenix, but also an opportunity to speak about the changes<br />

that are occurring and what they mean for the future of the arts in the Valley.<br />

“If there’s anything I can say about Modified,” Monzón said, “the name’s<br />

perfect. That’s what we are. We are adaptable. We are fluid. We are very<br />

open, and I think that has to do with the fact that Kimber Lanning is the owner.<br />

I think since she runs Local First, and she’s so focused on local community and<br />

helping people in the local scene, it’s almost more about the community aspect<br />

of it. It’s more about allowing or helping people that maybe don’t have access<br />

to or know where to go to see local art to have a place to go. I think that really<br />

kind of captures what Modified is.”<br />

MATCH Restaurant & Lounge<br />

Steps from the Roosevelt Light Rail Station<br />

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<strong>Nov</strong>ember 15 through December 13<br />

Opening reception <strong>Nov</strong>ember 15, 6:00 – 9:00 p.m.<br />

www.modifiedarts.org<br />

@merrynalaka<br />

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ARTS<br />

JENNIFER MCCABE CURATING COUNTER-LANDSCAPES AT SMOCA<br />

By Grant Vetter<br />

The exhibition Counter-Landscapes: Performative<br />

Actions from the <strong>19</strong>70s–Now at SMoCA is both a<br />

curatorial and an artistic triumph. It celebrates the<br />

work of three generations of the most important<br />

performance artists, including the likes of Marina<br />

Abramović, Francis Alÿs, VALIE EXPORT, and Adrian<br />

Piper, to name a few. The breadth of the artists<br />

selected by museum director and chief curator<br />

Jennifer McCabe, which includes 24 in total, provides<br />

a concise and thought-provoking survey of the kinds<br />

of motivations that have been often overlooked in the<br />

history of the genre.<br />

Of course, the idea of counter-landscapes is a<br />

reference to the work of the French philosopher<br />

Michel Foucault, who defended the notion of<br />

counter-memories as those that have been repressed<br />

or marginalized: memories of happenings that the<br />

status quo could not accommodate. Starting from this<br />

premise, we could say that works like Abramović’s<br />

“Looking at the Mountains” is a counter-landscape<br />

in the sense of inverting the iconic image of Caspar<br />

David Friedrich’s “Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog.”<br />

Friedrich’s painting of a rather well-dressed man at<br />

the summit of a high mountain peak is considered<br />

by many to be the epitome of Romantic art because<br />

it provides an image of mankind overcoming nature,<br />

where the mind is set free by the sublime expanse<br />

of pure metaphysical contemplation, and the gaze<br />

places humanity in the position of being both the<br />

pinnacle and surveyor of the natural world.<br />

Abramović’s work is a counter-landscape inasmuch<br />

as it inverts all three of these premises by situating<br />

the artist between the heavens and earth, where<br />

the image places her firmly in this world, and the<br />

darkened clouds above provide a sense of existential<br />

isolation rather than metaphysical mastery.<br />

A different kind of counter-landscape, aiming<br />

to challenge the ideals of the Enlightenment as<br />

much as those of Romanticism, can be found in<br />

the works of Agnes Denes. Her three images from<br />

the Wheatfield series serve not just to question the<br />

narratives of progress and civilization but to highlight<br />

how skyscrapers provide corporate CEOs with a<br />

Friedrichesque worldview from atop, in their offices<br />

and boardrooms, albeit places decidedly removed<br />

from nature.<br />

But, of course, this is the point, and these three<br />

photographs can also be read as a three-act<br />

play of sorts, with the first image revealing the<br />

detritus of modern civilization set off against one<br />

of the greatest symbols of the Enlightenment – the<br />

Statue of Liberty. The next shows us an expanse<br />

of unharvested grain, demonstrating the power of<br />

reclamation, but not just in a literal sense. Rather,<br />

the juxtaposition of field and figure, the latter bearing<br />

the words of the poet Emma Lazarus, serves to<br />

underscore an expanded notion of “liberty, equality,<br />

and fraternity.” Denes’ project points to the hope of<br />

reclaiming a lost sense of congress between nature,<br />

people, and the greater ecology of exchanges that<br />

make up modern life.<br />

This is highlighted by the third photograph from<br />

Wheatfield, which struck a chord at the height of<br />

the environmental art movement, but which reads<br />

differently today with the World Trade Center<br />

pictured in the background. The image now occupies<br />

the place of a memory as much as it functions as<br />

documentation. Denes’ work, and the space allotted<br />

to the twin towers, becomes even more relevant<br />

for having pictured the place where a conflict<br />

over capitalism, the first and third worlds, and<br />

secularism and fundamentalism would eventually<br />

explode in an act of terror. In this way, we learn that<br />

counter-landscapes always already contain countermemories,<br />

and that the archeology of images from<br />

our past can come to haunt our understanding of the<br />

future.<br />

It is this temporal element that is highlighted<br />

throughout the exhibition as we encounter<br />

Mendieta’s symbolically charged acts with her body<br />

and the earth, or Piper’s critique of silenced minority<br />

positions, as well as Pope L.’s profound performances<br />

about the grueling struggle for artistic recognition<br />

in an art world that continues to be permeated by<br />

racism. These works and others in the show are part<br />

of the profound archive that McCabe has assembled<br />

in order to highlight how we think about various<br />

genealogies of artistic disciplines that have not only<br />

challenged the status quo but have forever changed<br />

the art world as we know it.<br />

Counter-Landscapes: Performative Actions from the <strong>19</strong>70s–Now<br />

Through January <strong>19</strong>, 2020<br />

Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art (SMoCA)<br />

www.smoca.org<br />

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Agnes Denes<br />

Wheatfield--A Confrontation: Battery Park Landfill,<br />

Downtown Manhattan--With New York Financial Center<br />

<strong>19</strong>82, C-print, 16 x 20 inches<br />

Courtesy of the artist and Leslie Tonkonow Artworks + Projects<br />

Pope.L<br />

The Great White Way: 22 miles, 5 years, 1 street (Segment<br />

#1: December 29, 2001), 2001-2006<br />

Video installation, 6:35 minutes<br />

Courtesy of the artist and Mitchell-Innes & Nash, New York<br />

Antonia Wright<br />

Under the Water Was Sand, The Rocks, Miles of Rocks, Then Fire<br />

2017, Single channel video, night blooming jasmine plants,<br />

fragrance, boxes, and shop lights, 2:20 minutes<br />

Courtesy of the artist and Locust Projectst<br />

Ana Teresa Fernández<br />

Of Bodies and Borders 1 (performance documentation)<br />

2017, Oil on canvas, 54 x 94 inches<br />

Courtesy of the artist and Gallery Wendi Norris<br />

<strong>JAVA</strong> 17<br />

MAGAZINE


BRIAN BONER<br />

AMERICAN PLAYGROUND<br />

By Jenna Duncan<br />

“I grew up in a very rural part of America, you know,<br />

the Midwest,” painter Brian Boner says. “When you<br />

have kids, you have this baseline of, ‘Well, this is<br />

how I grew up, maybe this is how my kids will grow<br />

up.’ But my kids are growing up in a city in the desert,<br />

whereas I grew up in a small town in the forest.”<br />

Boner’s new collection of paintings, American<br />

Playground, combines contemporary images with<br />

some family photos, and also images symbolic of his<br />

childhood and the new world he is experiencing as a<br />

father, with his two sons.<br />

Boner grew up in Rapid City, South Dakota, near the<br />

Black Hills, a town he describes as “small, but not<br />

horribly small.” He went to college in Minnesota and<br />

Montana (got a bachelor’s in painting and drawing),<br />

and he says after too many days of 60-below winters,<br />

he had to move on to someplace warmer.<br />

But critical geography is not the only big difference<br />

between Boner’s childhood and that of his sons.<br />

After college, Boner and some friends moved to<br />

Tempe. He used to visit his grandparents there<br />

with his family in the winters, so he was familiar<br />

with the terrain. Once he started getting into the art<br />

scene, he moved downtown.<br />

“I met Greg [Esser] and Cindy [Dash]. They were renovating<br />

a house on 6th Street,” he says. “My studio<br />

was a garage that you could open from both ends.”<br />

While living in the Roosevelt arts district, Boner met<br />

his wife-to-be, artist Christina Ramirez, at the Long<br />

House. Boner worked for Phoenix Art Group about<br />

two years and became further connected with local<br />

artists. Then, he supported himself solely from the<br />

sales of his paintings.<br />

“I’d pick up the odd job installing things, for Scottsdale<br />

Museum of Contemporary Art or various galleries.<br />

Or I’d pick up a job teaching art for a couple of<br />

days.” But when the economy turned sour, he found<br />

himself in the position of needing a day job again.<br />

Through a friend, he signed on with Art Solutions,<br />

fine art installers. He’s been with the company more<br />

than 10 years and says he likes the work and the<br />

flexibility. He was able to take six months to paint<br />

full-time in order to prepare for this show.<br />

Some paintings are still lifes – a handful of alphabet<br />

magnets, an image of a Jackelope – while others<br />

combine imagery taken from a variety of sources in a<br />

sort of collage of new meaning. One painting shows<br />

his youngest son, Elias, standing before an American<br />

bison. The bison appears to be about to drink water<br />

from a blue plastic kiddy pool. In the background is<br />

the white house his father grew up in, and a barn<br />

wall painted with white and red stripes, emblematic<br />

of the American flag.<br />

Another painting shows a collection of antique school<br />

desks that seem to drip with electric colors (some<br />

hidden purples, corners of green) as if emerging from<br />

a dream of nostalgia. Boner says these desks were<br />

discovered in the attic of his family’s ranch in South<br />

Dakota. They came from the old schoolhouse that<br />

18 <strong>JAVA</strong><br />

MAGAZINE


used to exist miles down the road. How they ended<br />

up in his family’s possession is a mystery.<br />

“I come from a long line of educators,” Boner says,<br />

listing his great-aunt, grandmother, mother, and<br />

father. The idea of handing down family knowledge<br />

through the generations is certainly one<br />

theme in this show.<br />

Occasionally, firearms and animal predators that are<br />

hunted appear in his paintings. Boner explains that<br />

his dad was an avid hunter: “He’d shoot anything!”<br />

Sometimes there would be big game hanging in<br />

the family garage, blood draining and waiting<br />

to be skinned by his dad. He tried hunting a few<br />

times, but after shooting his first deer, he decided it<br />

wasn’t for him.<br />

One of the juxtaposed-image paintings depicts<br />

Boner’s older son, Jasper, standing on the walkway to<br />

the family’s front door, armed with a squirt gun. Jasper<br />

appears to be defending two bunnies who cower<br />

together in the foyer. “Guardian of the Innocents”<br />

came about after his son asked him one day, “Dad,<br />

how do bunnies protect themselves?”<br />

The Americana motif appears in many images, as<br />

well, in the use of stars, stripes, and other imagery<br />

associated with nationalism. But the message is<br />

neither pro nor anti-homeland. It’s a subtle suggestion<br />

of the ways our nation has changed from Brian’s<br />

generation of children to that of his own. At every<br />

turn, there are hints of danger, suggestions that some<br />

presence or power might be lying in wait.<br />

These amalgams provide an intriguing dialogue<br />

between the pastoral, perhaps of Brian’s upbringing,<br />

and today’s real world, one in which his boys are<br />

growing up surrounded by screens, with the threat<br />

of things like social media bullying and witnessing a<br />

burning car in the middle of the street.<br />

American Playground<br />

Through <strong>Nov</strong>ember 21<br />

Fiat Lux Gallery<br />

69<strong>19</strong> E. 1st Ave., Scottsdale<br />

Open to the public from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. Thursdays and other<br />

times by appointment<br />

“Barracade” 60”x64” oil on canvas<br />

“Trajectory 48”x39” oil on canvas<br />

“This is a Test” 48”x48” oil on canvas<br />

“In the Velvet” 38”x38” oil on canvas<br />

“Roadside Attraction” 38”x29” oil on canvas<br />

<strong>JAVA</strong> <strong>19</strong><br />

MAGAZINE


Through the Doors of<br />

Persepshen<br />

By Sloane Burwell<br />

My friends and I have been fans of Persepshen (one of the bad things about<br />

having a phonetic spelling of your restaurant name is that it looks funny in print)<br />

since they rolled out their food truck at the Uptown Farmers Market a couple of<br />

years ago. Their meat sticks were fabulous. I became addicted to their curried<br />

pickled cauliflower. Their gorgeous breads are almost too pretty to eat. The dish<br />

that locked in our love was a round, hot, fresh sourdough donut loaded with lemon<br />

thyme curd. We all still wax rhapsodic about it – the warm, crispy dough and the<br />

fantastic filling. We noshed in silence until every molecule was gone, greedily<br />

licking up any errant dollops of tangy, sweet lemon curd. It was primal, sensual,<br />

and so decadent, someone chimed in about feeling like they needed a cigarette<br />

afterward. It was that good.<br />

After the food truck disappeared, we noticed a sign had gone up on Central, in the<br />

former Hula’s Modern Tiki location. We cheered. We texted updates, until finally<br />

we saw they were open. And after a handful of meals, I’m here to tell you it is<br />

every bit as wonderful as we had hoped.<br />

Persepshen added warm, earthy touches to their space. Four wooden booths line<br />

the interior, and a giant communal table with long benches holds center court. A<br />

massive woodfired oven has been added, with chairs facing the chef, in a perfect<br />

spot, albeit a toasty one in the summer, I’d imagine, to watch the action. In the<br />

back you’ll find a charming bar, and you’ll pass a window that peeks into a curing<br />

room, loaded with meats and an entire leg of prosciutto, about 11 months away<br />

from being ready to devour. We were told that rib eyes will dry age for 120 days<br />

in the back. As I write this, Persepshen has only been open for about 10 days, so<br />

we’ve set the countdown to not miss them.<br />

The focus here is on a farm to table experience. The purveyors are mostly organic,<br />

with a focus on locally sourced everything. While charming and admirable, I was<br />

glad I travel with my own ice tea sweeteners. Given that stevia or an alternative<br />

isn’t available, expect to be offered honey to sweeten your jasmine green tea ($4).<br />

Fans of cocktails will enjoy the creative libations. We were particularly partial to<br />

the Filthytini ($9), a martini that comes with muddled green olives, bleu cheese,<br />

pickle juice, and a spoon. As we were told by our adorable server, the intention is<br />

to taste the drink with all the flavors. We did, and it was pretty special. This is a<br />

first for me – a martini with a spoon.<br />

Speaking of spoons, we loved their silverware: adorable vintage silver service<br />

is their weapon of choice. Instead of being stuffy, it adds to the charming vibe.<br />

Drinks come served in canning jars, in keeping with the farm-ish flair.<br />

This is the kind of place where appetizers shine, and their menu is set up for<br />

sharing – broken up into Snacks, Small Plates, Big Plates, and Entrees. You could<br />

share an entree, if you like, but I prefer to travel the other options, since it’s more<br />

interesting to me. We adored the Chorizo Stuffed Dates ($9). Three golf ball sized<br />

creations come atop house-made harissa. The chorizo packs a spicy punch, the<br />

sweetness of the dates rounds it out, and the harissa is perfect for swiping onto<br />

the dates for extra punch. Given the size, each treat is several bites’ worth. Share if<br />

you like, but you’ll want to keep one for yourself.<br />

The Wood-Roasted Sunchokes ($12) are an inventive treat. Also known as<br />

Jerusalem artichokes, these nuggets are smoky, slightly crunchy on the outside,<br />

and pillowy on the inside. They disappeared with haste. It’s the perfect combo of<br />

salty, smoky, and savory. We adored the Wood-Roasted Oyster Mushrooms ($12),<br />

served with slivers of house-made bacon, sweet pieces of black garlic, and brandy<br />

demi-cream. We politely pretended to like them. We actually loved them. The<br />

mushrooms take advantage of their new woodfired oven, and like us, you’ll want to<br />

drag each perfectly cooked morsel through the creamy sauce. I’m almost swooning<br />

just thinking about it.<br />

And as for Big Shared Plates, do not miss their Charcuterie Plate ($24). A giant slab<br />

of slate is delivered, loaded with five kinds of meat, and two wafer-thin lavash<br />

crackers are artfully perched on top. Make no mistake, these are enormous pieces<br />

of culinary art, nearly two feet long. The meat is so succulent and all made in house.<br />

We loved the headcheese. It sounds scary, I know, but it was creamy and melts in<br />

your mouth. We adored the salumi – kicky salami-like meat disks.<br />

Their mortadella is like smoky prosciutto; it reminded me of the bacon my<br />

grandmother used to make, sliced so thin the fat melts in your mouth. A robust<br />

grainy mustard serves to cut some of the fat (I’d like to buy a jar of this, please),<br />

and an impressive blueberry ginger jam adds interest as well. Each Charcuterie<br />

plate comes with three pickled veggies, and I was very happy to see their famous<br />

curried pickled cauliflower, so kicky and hot and a perfect balance to the rest of<br />

the plate. We also loved the pickles – cold, crisp, and tasting ever so slightly of dill<br />

and coriander seed. Our charming server advised us that this dish will constantly<br />

change, based on seasonal availability.<br />

What I hope never changes is their Burger ($16), loaded with Danish bleu cheese,<br />

strawberry jam, and an elegantly prepared patty. I was thrilled that the toasted<br />

brioche bun was able to hold firm and not disintegrate into sadness. We were<br />

equally impressed with their Wood-Roasted Shrimp ($22). Perfectly cooked, slightly<br />

sweet shrimp, made smoky from having been roasted, arrive on stellar smashed<br />

pinto beans. The smoky tortillas served alongside are delicious enough to give the<br />

former Rolands a run for their money. I’d expect these tortillas to appear as favorites<br />

around town any day now.<br />

I’ll admit a tiny pang of sadness when we discovered the orgasmic lemon thyme<br />

curd sourdough donuts were not on the menu yet. They’ll show up as soon as<br />

Sunday brunch makes an appearance, in a few weeks. We drowned our dessert<br />

sorrows in the Blondie ($9), a rectangular brownie topped with a stripe of prickly<br />

pear praline and candied pancetta. It was shockingly fabulous. It sounds tricky – so<br />

many flavors on one dessert can be a challenge. Here, it is a victory, the sweetsavory-salty<br />

ending to a fabulous locally sourced meal.<br />

We waited for a year for Persepshen to become a brick and mortar reality. And in<br />

only 10 days, I’ve been there so many times that nearly everyone in the restaurant<br />

recognizes me and says hello. They know I’ll swing by the curing room and wave to<br />

Stanley (that’s the name I’ve given to the leg of prosciutto). I waited for a year to eat<br />

at Persepshen. I’ll wait another 11 months for Stanley.<br />

Persepshen<br />

4700 N. Central Ave., Phoenix<br />

Wednesday to Sunday 5 p.m. to 10 p.m.<br />

<strong>JAVA</strong><br />

MAGAZINE<br />

21


Changing<br />

Winds


Stylist, Photographer,<br />

Creative Director: Rachel Callahan<br />

Wardrobe: Vamp Rodeo Vintage<br />

Models: Hades, Ariel Graves-Wake


One of many Planning meetings: from left: Nuvia Enriquez, Ayo Sinplaneta, Martin Moreno,<br />

Reggie Casillas, Sam Gomez, Gloria Martinez, Diana Calderon, Edgar Fernandez<br />

ALL OF US TOGETHER<br />

Art, Water, Community, and Culture<br />

By Morgan Moore<br />

30 <strong>JAVA</strong><br />

MAGAZINE


Medio Completo artist: Gloria, Nuvia<br />

Huhugam Heritage Center’s: Monica King<br />

Like water in the desert, art has the<br />

powerful ability to bring people together.<br />

In contemporary Phoenix, all too often,<br />

community-based art is reduced to<br />

branding and marketing efforts, and authenticity<br />

can quickly be lost. This city does, however,<br />

continue to bring people together beyond property<br />

and product. One recent powerful example of this<br />

is Vesich eth ve:m, a creative team that arose from<br />

the Water Public Art Challenge.<br />

On May 30, 2018, the Arizona Community Foundation<br />

launched the Challenge – its third philanthropic<br />

competition “aimed at creating the Arizona of<br />

tomorrow.” Funds were distributed to collaborative<br />

projects that delved into the “Hohokam” legacy,<br />

canal system, and history of water use in the Valley.<br />

The majority of winning teams will be exhibiting<br />

their work on <strong>Nov</strong>ember 16 at Scottsdale’s Canal<br />

Convergence, the Mesa Arts Center, and the Rio<br />

Salado Audubon Center (with the exception of<br />

Pueblo Grande Museum’s exhibition, which was<br />

held on October 20).<br />

The competition called for “collaborative temporary<br />

public art projects that build connectivity between<br />

cultures through creative expression.” Audubon<br />

Arizona’s executive director, Sonia Perillo, saw it as<br />

an opportunity to link water and community with the<br />

organization’s mission to protect birds and habitats.<br />

Birds, after all, need water.<br />

Audubon Arizona is one of many nonprofits in<br />

South Phoenix looking for ways to connect with<br />

its community. Public meetings on the South<br />

Central light rail extension brought together many<br />

stakeholders, including Perillo and Sam Gomez of the<br />

Sagrado Galleria (located on south Central Ave.), and<br />

they began to discuss the possibility of collaboration.<br />

Meanwhile, a separate group was coalescing around<br />

Gomez. Diana Calderon, Gloria Martinez-Granados,<br />

Reggie Casillas, Nuvia Enriquez, and Ayo Sinplaneta<br />

were all looking to combine their individual artistic<br />

practices to form a collaborative. Soon enough,<br />

Edgar Fernandez and Martin Moreno joined the<br />

conversation, along with Gomez. Together they<br />

formed the artist group Medio Completo. Gomez<br />

then bridged Medio Completo with Audubon Arizona<br />

through the idea of the water competition.<br />

Perillo was simultaneously reaching out to members<br />

of the Gila River Indian Community, which is<br />

composed of two tribes – the Akimel O’odham<br />

and the Pee Posh. In the past, tribal members had<br />

frequented the Rio Salado Audubon Center to collect<br />

materials for basket weaving.<br />

The Huhugam Heritage Center was established to<br />

ensure that the Gila River tribes continue to flourish<br />

for generations. The center’s education curator,<br />

Monica King, says, “We want it for our community,<br />

but we also want to share with the public.”<br />

King connected with Perillo and signed on to the<br />

competition, inviting Heritage Center staff and artists<br />

from the community, including Joyce Hughes, Tim<br />

Terry Jr., and Aaron Sabori to contribute their vision<br />

and direction to the project.<br />

Together Audubon Arizona, the Huhugam Heritage<br />

Center, and Medio Completo formed a team called<br />

Vesich eth ve:m, which translates to “all of us<br />

together.” Team members got together for the first<br />

time at the Rio Salado Audubon Center over a year<br />

ago to begin the application process, and since<br />

then have forged a path to share the results of their<br />

collaboration on <strong>Nov</strong>ember 16.<br />

While all are interdisciplinary artists, Calderon and<br />

Martinez-Granados both currently work primarily


Medio Completo artist: Diana Calderon<br />

Medio Completo artist: Sam Gomez<br />

through printmaking, Fernandez through painting and<br />

murals, and Casillas and Moreno through murals and<br />

sculptures. Enriquez and Sinplaneta are well known<br />

for their creation of La Phoenikera, an online bilingual<br />

publication covering Phoenix’s countercultures; they<br />

also bring experience with performance and film.<br />

Besides curating shows at the Sagrado, Gomez also<br />

works in photography.<br />

The Medio Completo artists have approached the<br />

project from varying perspectives, but ultimately<br />

contrast with the Gila River and Heritage Center<br />

members in that they connect with the project<br />

through immigration – a common motif in the<br />

group – along with exploration of their ancestral<br />

roots. Many of the artists are immigrants or children<br />

of immigrants, and much of their professional<br />

work draws from their Latinx experiences. But in<br />

connecting with the Huhugam Heritage Center and<br />

members of the Gila River Indian Community, they<br />

learned not only about the living history of Phoenix’s<br />

tribal cultures, but also how easy it is to relate.<br />

“It doesn’t feel that unfamiliar,” Calderon shares,<br />

“even though it’s not specific to my culture.” She<br />

reflects on her own family’s indigenous roots in the<br />

Copper Canyon in Chihuahua, Mexico. The sentiment<br />

is echoed by many Medio Completo artists, who find<br />

commonalities between their heritages and those of<br />

the O’odham.<br />

The Medio Completo artists are familiar with<br />

community-based work – from Casillas and Moreno<br />

collaborating with others to make murals, to Calderon<br />

leading bookmaking workshops, and Enriquez and<br />

Sinplaneta cultivating the written form with La<br />

Phoenikera. Developing the work behind We Are<br />

Still Here was a new experience in that the artists<br />

effectively acted as students, learning how to<br />

accurately portray art expressing a historical and<br />

contemporary community.<br />

We Are Still Here is an immersive art experience that<br />

presents a chronology of water history and features<br />

the importance of rivers for the sustenance of the<br />

Huhugam people. Through soundscapes, sculptures,<br />

augmented-reality murals, film projections,<br />

bookmaking, and performance, stories of Huhugam<br />

history are woven together with the community’s<br />

continued connection to the river. The artists aim to<br />

celebrate those who set the foundation for life in<br />

Phoenix and the surrounding communities.<br />

Research took Vesich eth ve:m on trips to pick cholla<br />

buds, harvest cattails, attend storytelling sessions,<br />

and tour Pueblo Grande. The members also attended<br />

the dedication of the Gila River Indian Community’s<br />

MAR 5 (Managed Aquifer Recharge) Interpretive Trail,<br />

which presents a reminder of how water still does<br />

flow through the desert. Research trips were not led<br />

by disconnected historians but by living descendants<br />

of the Native Americans who built the extensive<br />

canal structure around the Salt and Gila Rivers.<br />

“Each artist has had the opportunity to get feedback<br />

from the Huhugam Center, from the artists there,<br />

and from Monica and her staff,” Moreno explains.<br />

For example, Calderon consulted with artists on<br />

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Medio Completo artists: Edgar Fernandez and Martin Moreno<br />

Medio Completo artists<br />

designs for her printmaking activity and with Hughes for<br />

translation of a poem to O’odham.<br />

Sinplaneta shares that he connected to the project by<br />

“writing something that was approved, in a way, by<br />

the culture. I’m really kind of a tourist, and it could<br />

even be perceived as appropriation.” Learning about<br />

and listening to storytelling from community members<br />

enabled the Medio Completo artists to interpret<br />

their roles in the project. “We’re gathering stories<br />

that we’ve heard, and all this knowledge that we’ve<br />

been exposed to, and giving interpretation through<br />

our artistic sense,” Sinplaneta says. Ultimately, Medio<br />

Completo aims to bring the project a contemporary lens<br />

that has been lacking in conversations about Arizona<br />

and its tribal communities.<br />

King shares an explanation by the Gila River Indian<br />

Community’s tribal historic preservation officer, Barnaby<br />

Lewis: “‘Huhugam’ is not the same as the archaeological<br />

term ‘Hohokam,’ which is limited by time periods.<br />

The archaeological term does not acknowledge our<br />

ancient ancestors nor living O’odham, who will become<br />

ancestors today and tomorrow. I am O’odham today, I<br />

will be Huhugam one day when I perish.”<br />

Medio Completo will be exploring these distinctions<br />

while weaving together each component with water,<br />

which serves as the crucial connection among the<br />

ecological, economic, and cultural fabrics of the desert.<br />

Water as a resource and economic structure through<br />

the historic canal system will be ever-present in the<br />

exhibition, as it is in our modern life.<br />

Vesich eth ve:m will also promote the importance of<br />

water in their project beyond its extrinsic value, delving<br />

into its cultural and spiritual side. From the significance<br />

of a cottontail rabbit’s dependence on water, to monsoon<br />

storms and water rights interpreted through projections<br />

and performances – the role of water flows through the<br />

entire project.<br />

“Hopefully, whatever happens with this event, we can<br />

continue and do more projects like this, and continue the<br />

narrative,” Gomez says. “Preservation, ownership, and<br />

being able to control our narrative” are key components<br />

of We Are Still Here, as they relate to the Huhugam, the<br />

O’odham, and the artist collective’s individual heritages,<br />

as well. The artists agreed they had learned a lot from<br />

this process, and are inspired to spread the knowledge<br />

gained from the Huhugam Heritage Center and Gila<br />

River Indian Community, so that future generations don’t<br />

have to learn these lessons from scratch.<br />

King echoes the sentiment: “We’re not talking about<br />

a people who lived and disappeared. No, we still live<br />

on through our traditions, our cultural and oral history,<br />

our practices, our songs and stories – and we share<br />

those. That is something we wanted to do with this<br />

group – to help them understand the difference.” King<br />

concludes, “So again – we are still here. Our tribe lives<br />

on, and we continue.”<br />

We Are Still Here<br />

An Immersive Art Experience Celebrating the Huhugam Water<br />

Legacy<br />

Saturday, <strong>Nov</strong>ember 16, 6:30 – 8:00 p.m.<br />

Nina Mason Pulliam Rio Salado Audubon Center<br />

riosaladoaudubon.org<br />

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Grace Rolland<br />

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By Tom Reardon<br />

Photo: Taylor Noel Photography


<strong>JAVA</strong>: Tell me a little bit about you. Did you<br />

grow up here in the Phoenix area?<br />

Rolland: I did. I grew up in Mesa, and I live like five<br />

minutes away from my childhood home.<br />

Oh wow. So, you’ve gone far…<br />

(Laughs.) Oh yeah. I can walk to my parents’ house,<br />

that’s the problem. My mom grew up here, and my<br />

parents still live in the same house that I grew up in. I<br />

still take my dogs for a walk on the canal that I would<br />

run on growing up. So, it’s nice still being connected<br />

after all this time, you know.<br />

I do. I’m a native as well, although central<br />

Phoenix. I can’t see leaving. It’s so easy to get<br />

everywhere.<br />

Well, a few years ago, I was traveling into downtown<br />

Phoenix to do a lot of activities. It’s much harder<br />

(living in the east Valley). I just don’t drive as much<br />

as I used to. And so, I’m trying to absorb and extend<br />

my time working in the studio and being at home. As<br />

much as I love being stable where I am at, it’s always<br />

just a game to figure out how to feel connected and<br />

actively participate in downtown Phoenix. I love that<br />

place, but it’s a little far.<br />

Photo: Julius Schlosburg<br />

From time to time, people come into your life that just shine. Sometimes you even expect it because<br />

of their talent and ability to create beautiful art, but when their star shines about as bright as<br />

any can, it’s still overwhelming. You brace yourself for the impact, yet the wind can still get<br />

knocked right out of you.<br />

Singer and multi-instrumentalist Grace Rolland is one such person. Under the moniker Rising Sun<br />

Daughter, she has released an extraordinary debut EP, I See Jane. The 30-year-old Mesa native has taken the<br />

last two years to craft the five songs that make up what is essentially her first solo record. While you may<br />

know her from Run Boy Run – an Americana band that achieved a fair amount of success with support from<br />

Garrison Keillor and his longtime syndicated radio show, A Prairie Home Companion – Rollvand’s work with<br />

Rising Sun Daughter deserves equal celebration.<br />

By day, Rolland works at the Musical Instrument Museum in Scottsdale, before returning home to hang out<br />

with her dogs, Patty and Porter, and spend time working on her craft. She seems to be compelled to pick up new<br />

instruments, especially ones involving strings, so it’s anyone’s guess what sounds will show up on the next Rising<br />

Sun Daughter record. We caught up with Rolland during a break from work on a beautiful October day.<br />

The music scene is better than ever in town<br />

right now. Maybe that’s because our population<br />

has exploded, or maybe people just care more.<br />

It’s not like I need to go somewhere else to get<br />

my music out, as if there aren’t enough people in<br />

Arizona. That’s kind of a daydream notion, that<br />

you have to live in LA, or that only people in those<br />

historically commercial markets will listen to your<br />

music. There are literally millions of people here, and<br />

everyone deserves good music, so I can still live and<br />

make music here, which is fun.<br />

So, tell me a bit about working at the Musical<br />

Instrument Museum. It’s such a great venue for<br />

concerts.<br />

I’m really thankful to have that job. For one thing,<br />

the financial stability is essential to me as an artist,<br />

and I feel so much closer to quality musicians. I<br />

get to watch those people perform, I help support<br />

their shows, and I’m learning audio engineering.<br />

It’s a place that I feel, even if I’m not working<br />

in a performance capacity, it’s a nice peaceful<br />

environment, and, in my opinion, it’s the best concert<br />

hall in the country.<br />

It really does sound amazing in there.<br />

<strong>JAVA</strong> 35<br />

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The theater becomes an instrument, like all the<br />

other gear you’re working with. So, if somebody is<br />

just bringing a guitar and singing, I tell them to try it<br />

without any extra gear, because being able to sing in<br />

a room like that is a gift. It’s just so rare.<br />

Were you always a music fan?<br />

Yeah, I think so. My parents are musicians. Growing<br />

up, I listened to the Beatles while doing household<br />

chores. I loved music. My strongest self-identity<br />

memories have to do with me singing, playing music,<br />

or feeling stage fright. I was very shy as a kid, like<br />

horribly. My stage fright was so intense, I would just<br />

run off stage.<br />

What was the first instrument that you thought<br />

to yourself, “I have to play that”?<br />

That was the cello. They started me on the violin, and<br />

I must’ve been like four. I apparently wasn’t very nice<br />

in the group lesson, so I got kicked out. Then I took<br />

piano lessons, and that was incredibly challenging.<br />

I’m coming back to the piano now. When I was in<br />

fourth grade, my mom played the cello, so I started to<br />

play around with it when I was nine, and it just felt<br />

so comfortable.<br />

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That was my gateway. It’s such a strong instrument.<br />

Once you learn one instrument, you kind of absorb<br />

information about all the others. I had the opportunity to<br />

put my hands on a lot of different instruments because<br />

of my parents. So it was like, “Hey, can I borrow this<br />

tenor guitar?” and exploring without having to buy<br />

everything myself, which was very helpful.<br />

That’s very lucky. Do you still get stage fright?<br />

Not really. I have my way around it. But the way I felt<br />

it as a kid, (it was) the “I want to hide in a box, don’t<br />

look at me, don’t put any attention on me,” kind of<br />

feeling. At some point when I was coming out of a<br />

cello lesson, and I was too shy to even play for my<br />

teacher, my dad told me that to be so consumed by<br />

the fear of what others think and to not just play for<br />

music’s sake is a selfish thing.<br />

When I was in college, I studied theater and did a<br />

lot of improv and performance stuff and got more<br />

comfortable as a creative person. Now when I’m<br />

performing, it’s a challenge and an opportunity for me<br />

to be vulnerable on stage.<br />

How has it been for you to go from being part of<br />

a group (Run Boy Run) to being on your own?<br />

It’s hard. I’ve learned to not rely on other people<br />

to figure out what to do. As a female, you have to<br />

learn to not expect a man or someone in a position<br />

of power to say, “Oh, here’s an opportunity, here’s<br />

what you’re going to do.” Over the past few years,<br />

I’ve accepted my own power and embraced that my<br />

career is not necessarily going to look like how I<br />

fantasized it, with the record deal, a manager, and all<br />

that fuzzy stuff.<br />

I’m sort of speaking on a music business level.<br />

After I made the record, I didn’t know exactly what I<br />

wanted to get out of it, as a musician and performer,<br />

professionally and personally. I really wanted to<br />

understand my goals before releasing the music.<br />

When was the record finished?<br />

February 2017.<br />

You put it in a box for a while.<br />

Pretty much, yeah. It was in my computer for a long<br />

time. That spring (2017) I started really asking the<br />

questions of what I wanted from my music career.<br />

Was I just going to try and replicate my experience<br />

with Run Boy Run? I didn’t necessarily want that.<br />

I wondered if I should try to promote the crap out<br />

of the record and become a social media person. I<br />

couldn’t wrap my head around that either. I knew<br />

I wanted to put a lot of work into it, make a video,<br />

build a website, and that took some time.<br />

You mentioned being a female in the music<br />

business. Do you feel like the landscape is<br />

changing and more women are taking charge of<br />

their careers?<br />

I can’t help but feel it. I don’t consciously approach<br />

my music as a woman. But at the same time, when<br />

I’m composing, I recognize my own narrative in what<br />

I write.<br />

You know, you just accept your plate – by that I<br />

mean, I accept myself. I accept my strengths. I am<br />

cognizant that, in my self-perception, I am a strong,<br />

powerful, tall woman. I like that strength when I’m<br />

performing, and I like recognizing that people in<br />

an audience may not see that all the time. Festival<br />

lineups are not filled with woman-centered bands.<br />

But hopefully that is changing.<br />

Rising Sun Daughter performs on <strong>Nov</strong>ember 8 at<br />

Scottsdale’s Canal Convergence. For set times,<br />

please visit canalconvergence.com.<br />

For more information about Rising Sun Daughter, please visit<br />

RisingSunDaughter.com


GIRL ON FARMER<br />

BY CELIA BERESFORD<br />

I was really looking forward to seeing the show at<br />

Comerica. Not only was I meeting my monthly antiaging<br />

quota, it was also a band I love. One of the<br />

things about getting older is that so many things that<br />

happen are just so lame, especially because they are<br />

so stereotypical and predictable. I’m not even talking<br />

about the terrifying things that start happening to<br />

your face. I mean the middle-agey behaviors that<br />

creep up on you. You go to bed earlier, you can’t<br />

sleep, the idea of heavy drinking two nights in a<br />

row is laughable, and weekend/weeknight – who<br />

cares? Organizing my wildflower seed collection is<br />

preferable to going to the bar, and knowing that I<br />

have all of the laundry done is woefully satisfying. In<br />

response, I decided that, in addition to my daily olive<br />

oil face scrub to combat wrinkles (a battle lost years<br />

ago, if I’m honest), I also need to implement an antiaging<br />

behavior plan.<br />

Part of this plan is going to see a show at least<br />

once a month. In the past, I could easily squeeze in<br />

a few good bands each month. Now, I excitedly put<br />

something on the calendar, but when it comes to<br />

the night of the actual event, I’m like, “Meh, I’ve got<br />

seeds to sort.” This kind of nonsense is unacceptable<br />

in Operation Youthiness: It’s Showtime. I’m doing<br />

OK at meeting the monthly quota, but the necessary<br />

motivation to get to some shows is easier than<br />

others. And this was one of them. I had been waiting<br />

for The National to come back to town since they had<br />

played at the Tempe Marquee years ago. I had floor<br />

tickets and was ready for some young fun.<br />

Young fun typically involves some drinking. But<br />

since when you’re over 35 you have to pee every<br />

10 to 12 minutes, it was important that I put some<br />

restrictions on my liquid intake. This is easy to do at<br />

most venues, where a beer costs more than the Lyft<br />

ride to get there. While in line for my beer, I had to<br />

dig out my “wallet.” Wallet is a generous term for<br />

the cloth sack that I pack to the brim with nonsense<br />

like used subway passes, outdated library cards, hard<br />

half pieces of gum, lucky beads, innumerable scraps<br />

of paper where I’ve collected brilliant, yet illegible,<br />

stoned thoughts, ibuprofen tablets that look like rats<br />

have chewed them, and roughly 66 cents in pennies.<br />

The zipper is broken and it is very dirty. There were<br />

cute embroidered farm animals on the front, but now<br />

they just look like colored blobs.<br />

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I threw myself over the wallet and awkwardly<br />

grasped for the papers and trinkets that were<br />

scattered over the floor and began hastily stuffing<br />

all of it into my purse thing. Finally I got my beer<br />

and scurried away to hide among the crowd.<br />

Recently, while out for some drinks with a good friend, she saw the wallet, shook<br />

her head and said, “God, I hope you don’t let anybody you work with see that<br />

thing.” I told her young people like me don’t use fancy wallets, and I wouldn’t be<br />

shamed into doing another middle-age thing by getting one.<br />

As I pulled out the wallet to pay for my beer, a long line waiting behind me, it<br />

kind of flung out of my hand and onto the floor. It looked like a piñata had broken<br />

open, but instead of candy it was a bunch of bullshit. “Uhm, you dropped your<br />

uhm.” The girl behind me wasn’t really sure what it was, but when I saw my<br />

wallet on the floor for everyone to see, it felt like I had dropped a pair of dirty<br />

underwear. “Oh my god, oh no,” I blushed. “I’m, I’m so sorry. Don’t look at that!<br />

What is that thing?” I asked, incredulous, as if I hadn’t seen it before. “I’m a<br />

grown adult woman. I have a job, I swear.” I threw myself over the wallet and<br />

awkwardly grasped for the papers and trinkets that were scattered over the floor<br />

and began hastily stuffing all of it into my purse thing. Finally I got my beer and<br />

scurried away to hide among the crowd.<br />

I got to the floor and met my friend just in time for the show to start. About 30<br />

minutes in, as the crowd swayed and stared, listening intently to a quieter song,<br />

this meatball with a backwards baseball cap started yapping to his group of friends.<br />

Most responded quickly with some head nodding, as if they understood that they<br />

were standing among a crowd who was trying to listen to music. The meatball didn’t<br />

get it and loudly, repeatedly engaged his friends in stupid stories, likely involving a<br />

keg stand. I loudly shushed in his direction. I even smiled. He kept going. “Let’s all<br />

just shushhhhh,” I loudly suggested, determined not to let him ruin the song. He<br />

kept at it, louder, until finally on behalf of everyone, I had to remind him that we<br />

did not pay money to hear him blabber to his friends. He reminded me I was in<br />

a big crowd and people talk. I then reminded him there was A WHOLE OUTSIDE<br />

WORLD to go to if he wanted to talk. This went on until finally, on my young night<br />

out, I did the most very middle-aged thing I could do: I told on him. I went to the<br />

security guard, pointed him out, and said he won’t stop talking.<br />

It worked, and the kid did eventually shut up. But the experience undermined the<br />

spirit of Operation Youthiness. It had fouled my mood, and instead of going out<br />

after the show for more drinks, as my younger self would have done, I headed<br />

back home.<br />

It was early though, so the night was not lost. I smiled, remembering the new<br />

packets of seeds I had gotten in the mail that morning.


NIGHT<br />

GALLERY<br />

Photos By<br />

Robert Sentinery<br />

1<br />

2<br />

3 4<br />

5<br />

6<br />

7<br />

8 9<br />

10 11<br />

1. Clare steals the show at Chaos Theory<br />

2. Bro & Sis, Sam and Cristiana<br />

3. Phoenix Fashion Week with Oscar and Cynthia<br />

4. Izzy Molloy’s opening at FOUND:RE<br />

5. Victor and Emily at Stardust Pinbar<br />

6. Rielle is a social butterfly at Phoenix Fashion Week<br />

7. Super stylists Ashley Page and Anthony Leroux<br />

8. Lovely lady at the Town Scottsdale grand opening<br />

9. Brian Hill, the man behind Phoenix Fashion Week<br />

10. Track Club opening with Chuckie Duff and Bri<br />

11. Irene and her fab friends at Stardust<br />

.................................................<br />

.................................................


12 13 14 15 16<br />

17 18 <strong>19</strong> 20 21<br />

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27 28 29<br />

12. Rowan’s “Geometry of Motion” opening at Step Gallery<br />

13. Town Scottsdale grand opening with this duo<br />

14. Mello Jello with her wares at the Bubble Room<br />

15. Tanqueray or Kim Crawford?<br />

16. Ann shows her work at Town Scottsdale<br />

17. Ok, now smile for the camera<br />

18. DJ Kim E Fresh gets support from this lovely violinist<br />

<strong>19</strong>. Snapped these guys at the Town Scottsdale fete<br />

20. Va va voom! Lavish burlesque night at Bubble Room<br />

21. Adam from Town has family in town<br />

22. Pretty pair at Town Scottsdale<br />

23. The Track Club menu looks like an LPs<br />

24. Leopard print lady and her pretty pal<br />

25. Flamenco artist Carlos caught in confetti<br />

26. The main man behind Town Scottsdale and Denver<br />

27. Bubble Room at Wasted Grain<br />

28. Group shot! Lavish at the Bubble Room<br />

29. Destyn and Effie at Lavish


Register<br />

now for<br />

Spring<br />

10 Colleges Valleywide<br />

Degree and Certificate Programs<br />

University Transfer<br />

Affordable Tuition<br />

enroll-maricopa.com<br />

The Maricopa County Community College District (MCCCD) is an EEO/AA institution and an equal opportunity employer of protected veterans and individuals with disabilities. All qualified applicants will receive<br />

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<br />

participation in the career and technical education programs of the District.<br />

The Maricopa County Community College District does not discriminate on the basis of race, color, national origin, sex, disability or age in its programs or activities. For Title IX/504 concerns, call the following<br />

number to reach the appointed coordinator: (480) 731-8499. For additional information, as well as a listing of all coordinators within the Maricopa College system, visit www.maricopa.edu/non-discrimination.


30 31<br />

32 33 34<br />

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30. Pyra Sutra’s stellar burlesque show, Lavish<br />

31. Another fun duo at Town Scottdale<br />

32. Friends & family opening of Track Club<br />

33. Pretty faces in the crowd<br />

34. Fairy Bones in the house at Track Club<br />

35. All together now with Lisa from Practical Art<br />

36. DJs Pickster at Aw.dre at Track Club<br />

37. Track Club trio<br />

38. Tube sock and Dolphin shorts at Track Club<br />

39. High stylin’ at Phoenix Fashion Week<br />

40. Peekaboo, Lydia, we see you<br />

41. Getting funky with Rachel from Bunky<br />

42. Cool vendors at Phoenix Fashion Week marketplace<br />

43. Michael gets his groove on at Track Club<br />

44. Pretty runway walker art Fashion Week<br />

45. Jessie and pal at Track Club<br />

46. Menswear on the runway at PFW<br />

47. Matchy belts and drinks at Track Club


48 49<br />

50 51 52<br />

53 54<br />

55 56<br />

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58 59<br />

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48. First pic of the night at Chaos Theory 20<br />

49. These guys showed up for Rowan’s show at Step Gallery<br />

50. Photog. Nader Abushhab and friend at Chaos Theory<br />

51. Pabst Blue Ribbon time at with Johnny and Brian<br />

52. Chaos Theory with Liesel, Mia and pal<br />

53. Brad Perry in the house a Phoenix Fashion Week<br />

54. Matt Dixon with his piece at Chaos Theory 20<br />

55. Chaos Theory with Jessie and her man<br />

56. Another epic Chaos Theory with Randy and Alicia<br />

57. Funkhouser and friend at Chaos Theory 20<br />

58. The triple threat<br />

59. Stylist extraordinaire Mitch Phillips<br />

60. Lexie and Jason at Chaos Theory<br />

61. Caught amongst the art at Legend City Studios<br />

62. Hangin’ with Samir, Chris and Drew<br />

63. Sam and her man at Legend City Studios<br />

64. Kim Moody’s 75th with Marshall Shore<br />

65. Always nice to bump into Bobby and Alissa


66 67 68<br />

69<br />

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71<br />

72 73<br />

74 75<br />

76 77 78<br />

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81 82<br />

83<br />

66. Pinball, drinks and winks at Stardust<br />

67. Model for Samantha Lyn Aasen’s “For Her Time” show<br />

68. Abbey, Brandon, Sarah, and Francisco<br />

69. Rockin’ the “Brains Beauty Booty” tee<br />

70. Photo op with Kandice and Rafael<br />

71. Brian Boner’s opening at Fiat Lux Gallery<br />

72. Irene’s Taproom Timothy Chapman and friend<br />

73. All together now at Stardust Pinbar<br />

74. Jennyfer and Brad at Fiat Lux<br />

75. Samantha Lyn Aasen’s “For Her Time” at Eye Lounge<br />

76. Snapped this posse at Brian Boner’s show<br />

77. Another Friday at the Lost Leaf<br />

78. Kellye and Raul at Fiat Lux gallery<br />

79. Ernesto and friends at Lost Leaf<br />

80. Time for a refill at Fiat Lux<br />

81. Fred Tieken’s opening at Royse Contemporary<br />

82. Grant and Jimmy at Eye Lounge<br />

83. End of the night at Stardust Pinbar


BidUP!<br />

Silent Auction Fundraiser<br />

Fri, <strong>Nov</strong> 15 (6-8 pm)<br />

Exhibition / Preview: <strong>Nov</strong> 12-15, 20<strong>19</strong><br />

FREE & OPEN to the PUBLIC!<br />

CORINNE GEERTSEN, Intermission,<br />

Digital photo collage, printed with<br />

archival ink on archival paper,<br />

13½ x 15½ inches<br />

• Live Music by The Dusty<br />

Ramblers Project Large Band<br />

• Premiere of 2020 Art<br />

Print Calendar<br />

• Cash Bar & Sweet Treats<br />

MARK MCDOWELL, Stilt Walker, Polymer Relief Print.<br />

From 2020 Print Calendar.<br />

1 East Main Street • Mesa, AZ 85201 • 480-644-6560 • MesaArtsCenter.com


Featuring CAMELBACK FLOWERSHOP founder,<br />

Teresa Wilson, in Jacques Marie Mage Bacall Optical,<br />

See more portraits #YOUINEWE<br />

FOUR YEARS IN A ROW!<br />

Thank EWE Phoenix for naming us BEST EYEWEAR<br />

in this yearʼs Phoenix New Times BEST OF PHOENIX.


squidsoup @smoca<br />

Murmuration<br />

<strong>Nov</strong>ember 20<strong>19</strong> – May 2020<br />

Squidsoup returns to SMoCA this <strong>Nov</strong>ember with Murmuration a new site-specific artwork that uses a<br />

networked data systems to connect hundreds of lights and audio sources, creating a responsive data swarm.<br />

During the daytime, Murmuration offers a harmonious auditory experience, but when<br />

the sun goes down, a dynamic audiovisual experience swirls around the Museum like<br />

its namesake—a term for a flock of starlings whirling in unison through the sky.<br />

Related Event: Artist Talk: Squidsoup: Thursday, <strong>Nov</strong>ember 7 I 7 p.m.<br />

Organized by the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art. Curated by Julie Ganas, Curator of Programming.<br />

Image: Squidsoup, Murmuration (rendering), 20<strong>19</strong>.<br />

SMoCA.org I 7374 East Second Street, Scottsdale, Arizona 85251 I 480-874-4666

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