JAVA Feb 2020

287 • FEB 2020
Creative Couples
Part Deux
DAVID EMITT ADAMS & CLAIRE A. WARDEN • CLAIRE & CAVIN COSTELLO
CARRIE BETH & SEAN MCGARRY • HALO MOVEMENT COLLECTIVE

DEE DEE BRIDGEWATER:
“DEAR ELLA”
A Tribute to Ella Fitzgerald
Sat., February 22 | 6 & 8 p.m. | $44.50–$54.50
“Ms. Bridgewater spills with theatrics and sensuality.”
—New York Times
Upcoming Concerts
Leo Kottke
February 9 & 10
An Evening with Katia and Nina Cardenal
February 11
Terry Riley with Gyan Riley: Live at 85!
February 12
MIM and the Phoenix Chamber Music Society Present
Dover Quartet, Escher Quartet and Steven Tenenbom
The Music of Beethoven and Enescu
February 21
Riders in the Sky
February 23
Omar Sosa and Yilian Cañizares: AGUAS Trio with Gustavo Ovalles
February 26
Lila Downs: Al Chile
February 27 & 28
And many more!
2020 Concert Series sponsored by
MIM.org | 480.478.6000 | 4725 E. Mayo Blvd., Phoenix, AZ

CONTENTS
8
12
22
30
34
FEATURES
8 12 22
34
PHOTOGRAPHY DUO
David Emitt Adams & Claire A. Warden
By Rembrandt Quiballo
CLAIRE & CAVIN COSTELLO
10 Years of Design at the Ranch Mine
By Jared Duran
STREET BEAT
Creative Director/Wardrobe Stylist: Shannon
Campbell @shancamp
Photographer: Ryan Laurent
@hightierphotography
CARRIE BETH & SEAN MCGARRY
from {9} The Gallery
By Jeff Chabot
ANGEL CASTRO
HALO Movement Collective
By Susan Allred Prosser
Cover: David Emitt Adams & Claire A. Warden
Photo: David Emitt Adams / Claire A. Warden
COLUMNS
7
16
20
38
40
BUZZ
Creative Couples: Part Deux
By Robert Sentinery
ARTS
Searching for Maria
By Justen Siyuan Waterhouse
Modified Arts: Oracles of the Other
By Grant Vetter
FOOD FETISH
Standing on the Corner of
7th Avenue & Missouri
By Sloane Burwell
GIRL ON FARMER
MYOB
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
Jeff Chabot
Jared Duran
Kevin Hanlon
Morgan Moore
Ashley Naftule
John Perovich
Susan Allred Prosser
Tom Reardon
Grant Vetter
Justen Siyuan Waterhouse
PROOFREADER
Patricia Sanders
CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS
Enrique Garcia
Ryan Laurent
ADVERTISING
(602) 574-6364
Java Magazine
Copyright © 2020
All rights reserved.
Reproduction in whole or in part of any text, photograph
or illustration is strictly prohibited without the written
permission of the publisher. The publisher does not
assume responsibility for unsolicited submissions.
Publisher assumes no liability for the information
contained herein; all statements are the sole opinions
of the contributors and/or advertisers.
JAVA MAGAZINE
PO Box 45448 Phoenix, AZ 85064
email: javamag@cox.net
tel: (480) 966-6352
www.javamagaz.com
4 JAVA
MAGAZINE

FIRST IN A SERIES OF ANNUAL SOLO EXHIBITIONS
FOR INDIGENOUS WOMEN
MARIA
HUPFIELD
Nine Years Towards the Sun
SAVE $5
ON UP TO TWO ADULT OR SENIOR ADMISSIONS
WITH PROMO CODE: HMJAVA20
Heard Museum | 2301 N. Central Ave. Phoenix, AZ 85004 602.252.8840 | heard.org
Image courtesy of the artist

BUZZ
CREATIVE COUPLES: PART DEUX
By Robert Sentinery
For February, we’re bringing back last year’s popular Creative Couples theme and
looking at some of the hottest duos in the Phoenix arts community. David Emitt
Adams and Claire A. Warden are both accomplished fine art photographers,
exhibiting their works well beyond our borders. Warden’s most recent solo show,
at the Philadelphia Photo Arts Center, was curated by MoMA’s Lucy Gullan and
received critical acclaim.
Adams was born in Yuma but grew up all over the world, due to his parents’
State Department jobs. They moved every three years to places like Mexico City,
Buenos Aires, and Jakarta (where he bought his first camera). Warden hails from
Montreal, but her father is from India. The couple met in the photo program at
ASU. Their latest project is remodeling a building in the Grand Avenue district,
where there will be affordable artist housing/studios, as well as a community
space for classes and workshops (see “Photography Duo: David Emitt Adams and
Claire A. Warden,” p. 8).
Cavin and Claire Costello, the couple behind the Ranch Mine architectural firm,
recently celebrated 10 years of marriage and a decade of being in business
together. They both ended up in the Valley in 2009, during the economic recession.
For Claire, it was a somewhat reluctant return to her childhood home after
earning two degrees in Boulder, Colo. For Cavin, having grown up in the conservative
East Coast, where much of the opportunity for building was long past, the
desert represented a new beginning.
Employment opportunities during the recession were almost nil, especially in
architecture, so the couple took a leap of faith and started their own firm. They
bought a foreclosed ranch house and stripped it down to its bones. This process
inspired the Ranch Mine name and gained them some local press. Fast-forward
10 years: the firm has earned numerous accolades, including an HGTV Designer
of the Year award in 2019 (see “Claire and Cavin Costello: 10 Years of Design at
the Ranch Mine,” p. 12).
Carrie Beth and Sean McGarry both grew up in the burbs of Buffalo, N.Y. They
actually met in high school while performing in a theatre production. They both
liked each other at the time, but didn’t end up dating until 15 years later. Shortly
thereafter, Carrie Beth followed Sean back to Arizona and the couple married.
Under the moniker FunWOW, they created an art submission for a recycling container
at the Coachella Music Festival. The duo is now on their fifth year of doing
art for Coachella. In early 2018, they acquired {9} The Gallery and have been
helping to reshape the art scene on Grand Avenue ever since (see “Carrie Beth
and Sean McGarry from {9} The Gallery,” p. 30).
Finally, we look at the dance troupe HALO Movement Collective, its founder
Angel Castro, and his partner Cameron Lucas Eggers. The troupe’s unique fusion
of fashion and movement makes it one of the more visually interesting dance
teams in town. As they prepare for their highly anticipated performance “Rest in
Mourning,” on February 15, we spoke with Castro about what drives him to do
what he does (see “Angel Castro: HALO Movement Collective,” p. 34).

Photography Duo
David Emitt Adams &
Claire A. Warden
By Rembrandt Quiballo
8 JAVA
MAGAZINE
Photo: David Emitt Adams / Claire A. Warden

The door opens and David Emitt Adams leads me into a room full
of equipment and tools stacked from floor to ceiling. The scene is
frenetic with repairmen all around. We make it out of the space and
I’m eventually led into a living room. There we encounter Claire A.
Warden, Adams’ wife of three and a half years. She graciously offers me tea,
and we chat about their lives as thriving creatives in Phoenix.
The artist couple just got back from a three-week trip to India to visit Warden’s
family. They are both jet-lagged, but there’s no time to take a break. Adams
is preparing to travel to Lawrence in a couple of days to teach at Kansas
University for the upcoming semester.
Adams and Warden are the embodiment of working artists. They make art, for
sure, but they do so much more. Both are educators: Warden runs the photo
program at New School for the Arts and Academics in Tempe, and Adams
has taught at several colleges. They do countless photo workshops here
and abroad. Both of them have been individually awarded the Research and
Development Grant from the Arizona Commission on the Arts as well as the
prestigious Artists’ Grant from the Phoenix Art Museum.
Adams and Warden met while studying photography at ASU. Since then,
they’ve been busy growing their art careers here in Phoenix and beyond.
Nonetheless, one of their most important projects has been establishing a
thriving live/work space on Grand Avenue.
A fortuitous property listing by Tom Carmody led to the couple buying a
multiple-unit property on Grand. Carmody and his wife, Laurie, are known for
rehabilitating properties and supporting artists in downtown Phoenix. In this
instance, both aims were accomplished.
“That was always our plan for that place as soon as we thought it was
possible to buy it,” Warden said. “We know what artists can afford. We keep
all the apartments at a reasonable rent. Everybody living there now has had
local shows, is involved in the art community. One way or another they’re all
doing things.”
The couple has built on this momentum by acquiring the property next door
as well; hence all the commotion and work happening there. Their goal over
the next year or so is to convert the front space into studios, along with
a community space that will feature a classroom. They want to make it
available to their tenants and anybody from the community to come in and
teach workshops in all mediums.
Warden was born in Montreal, Canada. Her father is Indian – from Mumbai
– and her mother Canadian. The family moved to Phoenix for her father’s job.
She had an interesting upbringing, having parents of different ethnicities,
that has played an essential part in her art to this day. “My family was very
encouraging of art and learning about art and studying art,” she said. “There
was a lot of artistic talent in the family.”
“Actually when I was born, there was a Hindu priest at the hospital because
my grandmother is Hindu. He did an astrological reading for my birthday,
which was based on the date, time, and location in the world – all these
JAVA 9
MAGAZINE

Photo: Ryan Edmund
factors. He gave a prediction of what my parents could expect out of me, and
basically said I’m going to have a creative life.”
After graduating with a double major in photography and art history,
Warden knew she had to diversify her artistic skillset and tried out different
photography jobs. She shot weddings, worked for the college newspaper, and
interned at Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art and the Getty Institute
in Los Angeles. Eventually, her time working at an art gallery in Palm Springs
solidified what she wanted to do.
“I spent an entire summer documenting and archiving a bunch of artwork in
the gallery. I realized that was it. This work could keep me satisfied. I was
exposed to more artwork every day, but I didn’t feel exhausted from doing
photography all day, so I could go home and make more art. That probably was
the turning point, but I tried everything that I could think of on a photo-related
path. And I settled in on a combination of museum work and teaching – which
is what I still do now.”
Warden’s most recent body of work, titled Mimesis, uses physical markmaking
as well as applying her own saliva directly onto black and white film.
The saliva affects the film in unexpected ways, resulting in images that are
enigmatic but also talk about identity and what makes us who we are through
the poetry of the photographic process. She has also been working on her
99Moons Project, which is “a series of camera-less silver gelatin prints made
in the darkroom” that depict abstracted nightscapes.
Warden has continued to show her work at significant institutions. She
recently had a solo exhibition at the Philadelphia Photo Arts Center of work
selected by Lucy Gallun, curator of photography at the Museum of Modern
Art in New York. She also had a solo show at the Catherine Edelman Gallery
in Chicago. At the moment she is featured in a group show called Qualities of
Light at the Center for Creative Photography in Tucson.
Adams was originally born in Yuma, but he didn’t stay there long. His parents
worked for the U.S. State Department, requiring the whole family to move
every three years. They made stops in Mexico City, Buenos Aires, and Jakarta,
among other places. The perpetual relocation would stop when his father
retired and took over the family farm in Ohio.
Adams finally put down roots in the Midwest, but the constant travel had
already made a lasting impression on him. He was compelled to capture the
diverse cultures he experienced by taking photographs. This was before the
advent of smartphones, so he had to make a concerted effort to do so. “I just
knew I wanted to be a photographer,” Adams said. “The first camera I got
was in Jakarta, Indonesia. I still have it, a Nikon F3. I was there during one of
their first election processes ever. I have photographs that I made with zero
knowledge of photography.”
Adams spent summers on the family farm with his grandparents. This was a
huge contrast to the chaotic, bustling cities he lived in during the majority of
the year. Life on the farm initiated an appreciation for those that came before
him. “I think it built a strong respect for tradition, a strong respect for history
inside of me as a person,” Adams said. “That’s what led to my interest in
historic photo processes, but also my interest in expanding them, as well.”
10 JAVA
MAGAZINE

Adams built his own large-format camera and darkroom in grad school. While
teaching a beginning photography class, he set up a bin for his students to
put their used metal film canisters in, with the intention of recycling them. He
figured out a creative way to flatten them and print his students’ images on
them through the wet-plate process.
“So this whole notion of photography at that point changed for me because
I had always been very traditional, large format, black and white,” Adams
said. “Now I can make photographs on objects that speak to the nature
of what that thing is and really kind of expand my mind. This got me out of
this traditional realm and pushed me into just thinking that I can do anything
with photography.”
That body of work was the genesis of all his ongoing projects. Conversations
with History comprises photographs that he makes on detritus found in the
Sonoran Desert. Anything from old cans to car parts – Adams prints the
landscapes where they were found directly on the objects. His most recent
project, Power, is made up of photographs on 55-gallon oil drum lids. “I go
across the country photographing the oil infrastructure and all the architecture
that surrounds it, using a portable darkroom truck,” Adams said. “I drive
around the country and make photographs on these objects.”
Adams is featured in Ansel Adams in Our Times, which opened at the
Museum of Fine Arts in Boston and will be travelling to the Crystal Bridges
Museum and then on to the Portland Museum of Art. Last year he was in the
New Southern Photography exhibition at the Ogden Museum. He opened his
first solo show of the Power series at Candela Books + Gallery in Richmond,
Virginia, and currently has work at the Shelburne Museum in Vermont.
All the accolades are great, but ultimately Adams and Warden make art so
they can keep doing what they love. And what they love is living the creative
life of artists as a couple, which makes it all the more rewarding.
“The way that we’ve always approached our relationship, even early on when
we were dating, was very supportive and encouraging,” Warden said. “If I
have access to something, then David has access to it. Any grant or award
that either of us gets will help the both of us, because we’re a team. It’s just
our personalities that we’re constantly helping each other. Most of the time,
we balance each other out.”
www.davidemittadams.com
www.claireawarden.com
David Emitt Adams, Phoenix Art Museum Installation, Photo David Emitt Adams
David Emitt Adams, Getting Along
David Emitt Adams, Pumpjack Signal Hill
Claire A. Warden, No. 42, Emphasis
Claire A. Warden, No. 55, Emergence
David Emitt Adams, Saguaro Somewhere in the White Tank Mountains
Claire A. Warden, 99 Moons, No. 60
JAVA 11
MAGAZINE

Claire and Cavin Costello
10 Years of Design at the Ranch Mine
By Jared Duran
12 JAVA
MAGAZINE
Photo: Claire and Cavin Costello

Photos: Roehner + Ryan
It’s not often you hear a story like that of Claire
and Cavin Costello outside of fiction. The pair
met on Cavin’s first day in Arizona, bought a
house together shortly thereafter, and then
started their architecture firm, the Ranch Mine, in
2009 at the nadir of the economic recession. Ten
years on, they’re happily married, have recently
welcomed a new addition to their family, and have
a thriving business. It’s like a fairy tale, and yet
reducing it to a trope glosses over all the work it took
to get where they are today.
Cavin Costello began his journey in Connecticut.
The son of a civil engineer, he can trace his initial
exposure to architecture to his father. “He actually
designed the house I grew up in, and [my parents]
still live in it today. Literally, the plans of our house
were on the wall.”
Outside of a love of building with LEGOs as a kid,
Cavin’s interest in the field lay dormant for years.
After acing a ninth-grade algebra test involving
proofs, his teacher took him aside, saying this is
the kind of math architects do, and that he should
consider becoming one. This ultimately led to his
pursuit of the field in college – a hefty commitment
involving six years of school, three years of work
experience, and all the accompanying licenses.
At the end of his studies, Cavin was ready for
a change of scene. “The built environment [in
Connecticut and Boston] was largely done,” he
says. “They’d been building in a European style for
three, four hundred years, so a lot of it was very
conservative in terms of how they do stuff – not
much experimentation. Then I had a professor who
had gone to ASU and worked with a very well known
architect, and he said I should look into what these
guys are doing out in Phoenix.”
The professor was referring to Phoenician architects
Wendell Burnette and Will Bruder (and Rick Joy in
Tucson). “I looked at their work and it was almost
alien to me from where I grew up, but super
exciting in that they were basically creating [a new]
architecture for the desert.” The possibilities of
architecture in Arizona led him to move to Phoenix
sight unseen upon completion of his master’s
program at Northeastern University in Boston.
Coincidentally, Claire was also moving to Phoenix
– although for her, as a native of the city, this was
a return trip. Having received degrees in English
and Communication from the University of Colorado
at Boulder, she made the move back with some
reluctance.
“Really, the only thing that brought me back was
my family,” she says. “I was pretty apprehensive of
Phoenix as a city at the time.” Over the years since
her return, however, she’s grown to be happy she
came back – and not just for the obvious reasons. “It
is starting to feel like a real city to me with extending
the light rail, adding density. And I do think there
is a significantly raised awareness of local artists,
restaurateurs, shops, etc., compared to when I was
growing up here.”
Regarding the decision to purchase a house and start
a business together so early on in their relationship,
Cavin admits, “Most people thought it was a
terrible decision.” It’s clear neither he nor Claire
was acting as rashly as their actions might suggest.
“We had both been trying to enter the work force
at an incredible economic low point, which had its
challenges,” says Claire.
With the housing market among the industries
hardest hit, architecture firms were having to let their
existing employees go, but would hire them back
before bringing on any new or unknown candidates
as the economy rebounded. For Cavin that meant, not
JAVA 13
MAGAZINE

Photos: Roehner + Ryan
only were they not hiring, but they wouldn’t be hiring
for years.
In the face of all this, it seemed natural for Claire
and Cavin to make their own way. “I always thought
I’d work for myself, have variety in my days, and
really take ownership of what I was putting my time
into,” says Claire. “At the time, it seemed easier to
show up for ourselves every day and put in hard work
rather than continue exhausting the job search.”
The couple named their business the Ranch Mine for
several reasons, one of which is Cavin’s dislike of the
more conventional. “We didn’t want to be Costello
Architects or Costello Studio, because everyone’s
name is sort of like that. I like the idea of a company
being a company and not like, ‘I’m a star, and these
are the people that work for me.’”
Then, there was the exploration of their
surroundings. “In that early stretch of knowing each
other,” recalls Claire, “we took day trips around the
state and talked about what we found interesting
in Arizona, including old mines.” Finally, the name
settled in and took hold when the state’s history
extended into metaphor. “We were working on our
house,” Cavin explains, “which is a ranch house, and
we were in there chipping away, trying to find the
gems of the beauty within this terrible, foreclosed
ranch house, and we’re like, ‘That’s kind of a fun way
to think about it, we’re mining this house,’ and that’s
where we came up with the idea.”
The Ranch Mine first entered the public eye when
the Arizona Republic ran a story on the bathroom
renovation they undertook in the house that inspired
their name, when the publication featured costconscious
ways to improve your home. Ten years
later, their work has received a number of awards,
been featured in local and national architecture and
lifestyle publications, and appeared on network
television. In 2019, they were named both editor’s
and people’s choice for HGTV’s Designer of the Year
in the “Before and After” category.
One recent project that caught a lot of attention
is Canal House, an infill property off 12th Street
between Glendale and Northern. When asked what
they consider when bringing their distinct style to
a neighborhood, Cavin replies, “We like to draw
inspiration locally. Where we are in the world has
a really large effect on us, including our everyday
surroundings. So if you can create [structures] that
seem more rooted in their place, people feel more
rooted too.”
That doesn’t mean they let the existing real estate
dictate their design. “We study the neighborhood,
and what we’re really looking for is something that
was purposefully designed, with character developed
over time. Those are the areas where it’s like, ‘Okay,
let’s put something here that we think is more
grounded in this space.’”
They are always thinking about climate and
sustainability – creating environmentally conscious
builds. Canal House incorporates windows facing
north and south for energy efficiency, desert
landscaping for water conservation, and many
other thoughtful elements. Cavin notes that this
14 JAVA
MAGAZINE

environmentally conscious approach to architecture
goes back to those formative years with his dad. “He
designed our home in the early eighties after the
energy crisis, and was very into sustainable design –
way before it was called green building.”
A focus on sustainable design and sense of place is
very important to Claire as well. “There is a children’s
book, The Big Orange Splot [by Daniel Pinkwater],
that mirrors the sentiment we’d like to see our work
have in its environment. To quote the book, ‘My
house is me and I am it. My house is where I like
to be and looks like all my dreams.’” Claire also
expresses her thoughts on architecture as an art
form. “We are constantly connected to and influenced
by art in our work, and feel that architecture and
creative culture are inextricably linked. It is our hope
that our work continues to push for self-expression
and self-exploration while embracing the beauty of
our differences.”
The Costellos have seen a lot of change in the
industry in the decade since they started the
Ranch Mine – much of which has been driven by
overall changes in Phoenix itself. “The largest shift
we’ve seen,” says Cavin, “is that people want to
be here. People are staying here because it’s a
great place to be.” He believes this change has
in large part been born out of that time of economic
hardship. “The recession reset the dial in Phoenix,
and people thought more about what they wanted
[for the city],” he says.
Claire echoes her husband’s thoughts on the matter,
noting the impact of that focus on their work. “People
are really being intentional with the spaces that are
important to them at home. Whether it is for crafts,
entertaining, or enjoyment of the outdoors, we get
to create really interesting spaces that cater to the
wide variety of homeowners and the specifics of their
everyday lives.”
The Ranch Mine’s success has allowed the Costellos
the enviable position of being able to work on what
matters most to them. “You don’t have to take on
projects just to keep the doors open,” says Cavin.
“You’re doing the work you want to do. That is our
goal from day one of any project – to do work that
in twenty, thirty years will still make us proud.”
Cavin notes that this is important in a world where
the journey from design to completion takes a fair
amount of time. He notes, “It’s a difficult industry,
because what you’re excited about now, you might
not see built for a number of years.”
It’s clear, though, from his overall outlook, that his
perspective is not one of lament. “It’s funny, when
you study architecture, most architects don’t
become who they are until they’re fifty, sixty,
seventy years old – Frank Lloyd Wright was [almost]
seventy when he moved out here, and he was doing
some of his best work. So I’m looking at this as a
fifty-year proposition.”
JAVA 15
MAGAZINE

ARTS
SEARCHING FOR MARIA
By Justen Siyuan Waterhouse
Walking through Maria Hupfield’s exhibition at the
Heard Museum, I have the uncanny sensation of
there being many more bodies in the room with
me. An army of 2x4s are leaned against a wall
at a generous angle. A doughy gray sculpture is
crumpled on the floor, strung up like a whale by
its tail. Costumes made with chainmail, latex, and
beads stand shoulder to shoulder, draped over the
abbreviated version of clothing racks. The docents
and I circle around the works and each other.
Hupfield’s monographic exhibition with forty-some
works condenses the last nine years of her central
political project as an Indigenous (Anishinaabek)
femme artist. Hupfield’s practice spans sculpture,
video, and performance, underwritten by a material
lexicon. The exhibition demonstrates her investment
in certain materials: raw felt and unpainted 2x4s are
used repeatedly, as well as a fluorescent warningsign
yellow. Iconographic Indigenous objects, as
with the canoe form “Jiimaan” (2015), are replicated
with these distinctly industrial materials. A pair of
boots made from animal hide would be considered
an object of anthropological study; Hupfield’s boots
made from felt are a rebuttal against stereotypes that
tie traditional materials and craftwork to western
valuation of Indigenous work.
Many of the exhibition’s replica works are objects
made for the human body. A pair of boots look like
rounded feet, a set of deck chairs (à la Rietveld)
look like a reclining couple, and costumes Hupfield
made for herself, hung over clothes racks, appear
to be draped over the shoulders. I begin to realize
why I feel like there are other bodies in the room
with me. It’s funny how objects made to accomodate
the human body will mimic its form. Sculptural
costume pieces like “Crystal Vest” (2014) and “Guts
+ Fringe” (2011–) were made for Hupfield to wear
for her performances. Each of these stands on its
own rack with wheels fixed to the base, suggesting
that they could be wheeled out at any moment for a
performance. These works create a bodily presence
without describing the human figure directly.
Certain pieces make palpable the absence of a
body rather than its presence. “Missing Bear I, II,
III” (2014) is a set of posters Hupfield made after
one of her costume pieces was stolen following a
performance. The poster shows Hupfield wearing a
burlap bag over her head – present but anonymous.
This open and unresolved search for a missing
presence parallels the ongoing search for missing
and murdered Indigenous women. “Vestige
Vagabond” (2012) suggests the outfits and attitude
that Hupfield and collaborator Charlene Vickersis
inhabited for a performance of the same name. A
pair of jersey tank tops, Sony Walkman players, and
braided wigs are fixed flatly against ply boards. It’s a
to-scale illustration of the performance that suggests
not only their bodies but their bodies in motion – the
swing of their braids, the beat of the music, their
movements uninhibited by the loose jersey tops.
Bodies and art objects begin to suggest the same
potential for performance.
Hupfield’s performance and collaborative practice
underscores the function of the works on display.
Remances from past performances or pieces that
suggest future collaborations require an imaginative
space in order to bring their true potential to light. On
the second floor, documentation from opening night
is on display. Hupfield takes pieces of 2x4 from the
16 JAVA
MAGAZINE

installation downstairs and activates them as part
of her opening-night performance. These objects on
display are defined by this potential activation by
Hupfield. It should be recognized that performance
is an in-the-moment experience and impossible to
capture with documentation. Nevertheless, I begin
to realize the key absence in the show is of Hupfield
herself, and just how different these objects on
display are without her there to activate them.
Without Hupfield, much is missing from view.
This sense of the maker’s absence expands the scope
of my thinking to include the rest of the museum. In
another part of the building, the museum’s collection
of kachina dolls is on display. Despite having little or
no accompanying text, the undeniable uniqueness of
each doll communicates the presence of individuality;
I can easily imagine a child for each doll. I cannot
say the same for the David Hockney’s Yosemite and
Masters of California Basketry. Hockney alone is the
active agent in this exhibition; I can’t sense the same
for the Indigenous basket weavers.
Hupfield’s exhibition raises questions about
authorship and anonymity, activating presence or
performative absence – both within and without the
institution. This is a question with political stakes for
Indigenous artists, especially when it is noted that
what Indigenous history has not been erased now
largely remains with collecting institutions. Artists
like Hupfield are uniquely positioned to expand our
ideas of continuity and institutional historicism.
Thank you, Maria Hupfield, for helping me arrive at
these questions.
Maria Hupfield: Nine Years Towards the Sun
December 6, 2019 – May 3, 2020
Heard Museum
2301 N. Central Ave., Phoenix
heard.org
Vestige Vagabond (performed with Charlene Vickers), 2012. Synthetic hair, Sony
Walkman, sports jersey tank tops, cassette tape, six rattles. Collection of the
artist. Image: Justen Waterhouse
Jiimaan, 2015. Industrial felt canoe. Collection of Julia and Robert Foster. Image
courtesy of the artist.
Trophy Case, 2015–ongoing. Image: Justen Waterhouse.
Ahn Ahn Ahn Kaa Kaa Kaa, 2013–2017. Untreated lumber structure with acrylic
paint, industrial grey felt balaclava with tin jingles, single-channel video with
sound. 9 minutes, 41 seconds continuous loop. Collection of Malcolm and Robin
Anthony. Image courtesy of Heard Museum.
Still from video of opening night performance, December 6, 2019. Image
courtesy of Heard Museum.
JAVA 17
MAGAZINE

MODIFIED ARTS: ORACLES OF
THE OTHER
By Grant Vetter
Merryn Alaka’s latest curatorial project is already
creating a wave of interest before it even opens.
Entitled “Oracles of the Other,” it plays with Afrofuturistic
themes that challenge Western stereotypes
about Blackness at a time when many theorists
are exploring the meaning of Afro-futurism 2.0.
Coming in the wake of Alaka’s vaunted curatorial
project Americana, she’s opted to take an even
broader curatorial purview that addresses the
most pressing issues of the day, and with equally
impressive results.
“Oracles” includes the work of artists from across
the nation but also includes important locals such as
Jasilyn Anderson, making it a truly ambitious survey
of contemporary art. Walking into the gallery, we
find ourselves confronted with motifs that nod to
both Afro-futurism and Astro-Blackness in the work
of Granville Carol. Wholly cosmic in nature, Carol’s
photographs point as much to the dichotomies of
heaven and earth or time and eternity as the interplay
between a more limited egoic-self-conception and
the path toward transcendental awareness. In his
work, Blackness is a stage for radically different
notions of figure-ground relations that often serve to
reframe how we think about the world around us and
our place in it.
Mahari Chabwera’s work falls along similar lines,
only it ventures into the inner cosmology of African
mythologies and the collective unconscious. Her art
practice consists of paintings, ritual interventions,
Womanifestos, and re-edited recordings that
challenge how we understand the questions that
circumscribe Blackness today. One might even say
that her art practice is focused on exploring the
contradictions of the undercommons, which are
already implicated in the psychological, symbolic, and
unconscious biases behind the exercise of privilege
and power.
By contrast, Bee Spider’s work is more concrete
in nature, playing with material and spiritual
contractions in a way that broadens our perception
of thinking about difference as an embodied
set of practices. Working with wood, craft,
and kitsch objects, the work is part of a much
larger set of concerns that involves addressing
social inequality, issues of habitation, and even
rehabilitation, but never at the cost of being
didactic. Instead, Spider’s pieces remove the kinds
of expectations that are often associated with the
representation of Blackness by matriculating them
into a realm of mutual exchange, appreciation, and
economies of reciprocity.
18 JAVA
MAGAZINE

Taking up a very different type of labor-intensive art
practice, we can say that Qualeasha Wood’s tapestry
pieces aim to be allegorical in nature, transformative
in meaning, and often qualify as transitional objects
in the realm of representation. They engage with
a more eclectic set of concerns that shows itself
through the queering of different archetypal figures.
In this sense, her works are in dialogue with ages
long past and the present moment, while hinting at
intimations of a future anterior. This is because her
work issues from a committed sense of picturing
Blackness anew by using figures that demonstrate
the kind of agency that is exercised over and against
the projections and constraints of normativity.
Another artist embracing the idea of Black
speculative futures as a liberatory force is AJ
Mcclenon. The work challenges the codified indexes
of the cultural imaginary by creating narratives that
disarm us through the play of productive fictions. Part
trenchant critique of the art world, part tongue-incheek
retort, there is little that Mcclenon won’t use in
order to put a new spin on historicity, narrativity, and
the retroactive rethinking of society’s expectations
about what Blackness means tout court.
Working in a more performative register, the art
of Tay Butler presents us with a living bricolage of
concerns about Blackness and its relationship to
the process of enculturation. Often using his body
as a canvas for memories and memoriums, Butler’s
works points to how white histories have often
made an exquisite corpse out of Black experience.
Butler’s performative aesthetic resists this horizon
of oppression by bringing the signs and signifiers
of Blackness together in suti – as a gesture, act, or
action of reclamation.
And perhaps this is what the oracles of the past
also achieved, namely, a sense of forbearance about
our possible futures. After all, the future is always
implicated in how we think about the place of
otherness, which can only be addressed by making
the paradoxes of the present visible in the hope
of seeing our way toward a better tomorrow. By
this measure, “Oracles of the Other” meets and
surpasses our expectations at every possible turn
by presenting us with timely visions of Blackness
inscribed under the dispositifs of Afro, Astro, and
Black speculative futures.
Oracles of the Other
February 21 – March 14, 2020
Modified Arts
407 E. Roosevelt St., Phoenix
modifiedarts.org
Jasilyn Anderson, Ancestors Live Within
Granville Carol, Ase
Qualeasha Woods, Test of Faith
Bee Spiderman, AfricanBlack Bushcraft
Tay Butler, Leah III
JAVA 19
MAGAZINE

Standing on the Corner of
7th Avenue & Missouri
By Sloane Burwell
The southeast corner of 7th Avenue and Missouri is a perfect spot for a culinary
wonderland. It has housed many great spots over the years – most recently
Mucho Macho Tacos and the French Grocery. Living in the neighborhood, I’ve
watched with interest to see what might go in next, hoping this time it’s going to
be a keeper.
First to open was Hatch-It: Green Chile Burgers & Tacos (I always think it’s funny
when a restaurant inserts a colon into their name). I peeked in the windows as
construction went on and saw the enormous family tables and chairs they placed
inside. My first thought was how odd, since the overlarge tables and overstuffed
chairs would reduce the real estate. That meant either the menu was going to
have to be extremely expensive, or they’d better plan on doing a killer takeout
business, since fewer tables equals fewer people served at once. I was wrong on
both counts.
As Hatch-It established themselves and worked out their supply chain, Corner on
the Market, next door, began work. I’m only mentioning the supply chain because
the lovely owner of Hatch-It encouraged repeat visits in the beginning as they
found more robust legit New Mexican chile purveyors they could count on. Who
knew, right? So as their spicy game kicked up, an entire double-door-sized space
was cut between the two restaurants. Now it’s more of a complex, combining
what’s best about both places.
Hatch-It does a great job of showcasing these spicy green chile monsters. Their
kicky street tacos ($2.25) feature them prominently. The chicken and the beef are
flavorful and well seasoned, livened up by an abundance of roasted chiles, often
served alongside in a small plastic cup, while being cooled by a heady dose of
sour cream. I live for the Green Chile Beef taco, which seems like it was slow
cooked in the back for hours, stirred by a tireless nana who thinks I need to fatten
up. I don’t, but I’m willing to indulge.
The salads are gorgeous and tasty ($7.50), and come with the same street
taco (chicken or beef) options. They’re also available in burrito bowl form for
the same price. The salad is a large fresh creation, loaded with greens,
roasted corn, cojita cheese, sour cream, a mega dollop of guac, and the
aforementioned cup of roasted chiles – and bread. Oh my god, the bread. On
one visit, it was a delicious sourdough levain roll with roasted chiles baked
inside, and another time it was a slice of sourdough levain. This bread is amazing,
with the perfect structure, hint of sour, and crunchy outside. I wondered – how
does a teeny-tiny taco joint get this bread?
If I thought the bread worked with the salad, imagine my surprise when I had a
cup of green chile stew ($4). To be honest, I don’t always see it on the menu, and
that’s a shame. A kicky broth loaded with onions, potatoes, chiles, and chicken,
it’s fiery and fabulous. And if you like it hotter, scoop in more from the side cup
of roasted chiles. But again, the bread – the bread is so perfect and wonderful
dipped into the broth. I dipped every bit into the stew until there was no liquid
left. The tender chunks of broth that remained were perfect for smearing onto the
last crust of the bread.
So what’s the deal with a taco joint with fabulous bread? Then one day, the space
next door opened up. When I came in searching for that fantastic green chile stew,
I wandered into the Corner on the Market. Since it was after 2 p.m., it was closed.
For now, this is a breakfast and lunch spot. But then I saw it – an entire bakery case
of stunning levain breads. The sourdough boule is $7, and on the wall was a list of
other flavors, including bacon ($9), which seems to sell out every day, and of course
the green chile levain ($8). This is where Hatch-It was getting their bread. It turns
out this is a family affair. The brother is the baker and runs the market, and the
sister runs Hatch-It.
Corner on the Market isn’t just a bakery. They stock an impressive wall and cooler
full of wines, with an extraordinary selection of French varietals. You’ll find loads of
American wines, too, but the best part is that I struggled to find a single bottle over
$20. Fans of rosé will love their options, starting at around $11 a bottle.
But I can’t stop thinking about the baked goods – and the perfect chocolate chile
cookie ($3). About four inches across, and made from egg whites, it’s slightly
merengue-like on the outside and has the gooiest melty chocolate on the inside. You
can’t miss the warming chiles – the heat grows over time. Not overpowering, but
quite tasty.
And speaking of tasty, there’s a full-service coffee bar, serving local ROC beans. I
loved their Americano ($3), well made and rather well priced. Fans of smoothies will
enjoy their wide variety of fresh smoothies for $6.
But my favorite item on the menu was the Green Chile Meatloaf Sandwich ($8).
Served by itself, I’ll admit I was concerned that it wouldn’t be enough for lunch. It
was more than enough. Served on their house-made levain, it’s a thick wedge of
unbelievably moist, spicy meatloaf. I loved the large smear of grainy mustard and
the layer of sweet potato on the top, which provided a sweet counterpoint to the
heat of the chiles. With this dish you can see the cross-pollination between the
neighboring businesses. I used to think the Green Chile Meatloaf at Richardson’s
was my favorite, but this knocks them out. I plan on eating this regularly.
I also adored their Southwest Chicken Kale ($8), a massive endeavor smashed into
a plastic to-go container. I was never able to eat this in one go. Loads of fresh kale,
with cilantro lovingly and artfully placed on top and throughout, while roasted chiles,
sweet corn, and a slightly sweet dressing help round out the flavors. You’ll find
perfectly cooked black beans inside, retaining their texture and not turned to mush.
Corner on the Market also stocks charming housewares and even some handbags.
I was tempted by a vintage Coach purse ($20), but I’m saving my money for more of
those delicious cookies.
Corner on the Market and Hatch-It are an adorable family affair. If you’re at Hatch-
It after 2 p.m., you’re welcome to browse and even eat on the Market side after
they’ve closed. Both restaurants wisely highlight and serve the best from both
concepts, so eating at one nearly ensures you’ve sampled some of the other side.
Both places highlight a need for more family restaurants, and I’m looking forward to
more inviting lunches and dinners there – the spicier the better.
Hatch-It: Green Chile Burgers & Tacos and
Corner on the Market
5341 & 5345 N. 7th Avenue, Phoenix
JAVA
MAGAZINE
21

22 JAVA
MAGAZINE

23 JAVA
MAGAZINE

24 JAVA
MAGAZINE

25 JAVA
MAGAZINE

26 JAVA
MAGAZINE

27 JAVA
MAGAZINE

28 JAVA
MAGAZINE

Creative Director/ Wardrobe Stylist
Shannon Campbell
www.shannoncampbellstylist.com
@shancamp
Photographer Ryan Laurent
www.hightierphoto.com
@hightierphotography
Make-Up Donna Middlebrooks
www.bridalbeautyandbeyond.com
@bridal.beauty.beyond
Hair Drew Noreen
@drewjnoreen
Clothing Goodwill
of Central and Northern Arizona
@goodwillaz
JAVA 29
MAGAZINE

Carrie Beth & Sean McGarry

Carrie Beth and Sean McGarry both grew up just outside Buffalo, New
York. They met in high school and even played husband-and-wife partners
in the musical Anything Goes. Carrie Beth played one of Reno’s “Angels”
and Sean was a singing sailor. Sean thought Carrie Beth was out of his
league, and she was equally as impressed by him. But that’s where it ended. Their
actual romantic involvement would not happen until years later.
After high school, Sean went on to study organic chemistry in college, eventually
dropping out when he realized it wasn’t his passion. But during those first college
years, he took an elective art history course that really interested him. That course
would stick in his mind, and he ended up going back to Buffalo State College to
study art history, criticism, and conservation. After living in Chicago for a few
years, Sean followed the path of his family and moved to the sunny state of
Arizona in 2010.
When Carrie Beth graduated from high school, she planned to go to college to
study classical piano performance. She had been playing from the time she was
three years old, and it seemed only natural to continue with a degree in music. But
like Sean, Carrie Beth found her passions to be elsewhere. Although staying in the
arts, she switched her undergraduate major to musical theater with a dance minor.
She went on to travel with a theater group but veered toward the management
side rather than performance. She continued her studies and received a Master’s
in Arts Management from the University at Buffalo.
The couple tell a funny story about meeting up 15 years after graduating from
high school. Sean, while living in Arizona, was invited to be the best man at
a wedding in Buffalo. On a whim, he connected with Carrie Beth via Facebook
and asked her to meet up for a drink. It turned out to be much more than a first
date, though, as she unknowingly became his plus-one at the wedding. They’ve
been attached ever since.
Carrie Beth moved with Sean back to Arizona. They eloped somewhere off the
freeway between Sedona and Phoenix, where the only notary they could find to
sign the marriage paperwork was at a local jail. As their marriage evolved, so did
a unique artistic partnership. Their first collaborative artistic project (unless you go
back to their high school musical days) was a Millennium Falcon “guardian angel”
for their daughter’s bedroom (which, the couple says, is still in her room). Then,
together, they formed the artistic endeavor FunWOW.
FunWOW was inspired by a page in a kid’s book by Buffalo artist Mark
Freeland. In a thought bubble above an illustration of himself, the writer
was expressing sarcasm over the chemotherapy treatments he had
been on while fighting cancer. The name FunWOW also came about as
the couple needed a single name for their art submission to decorate a
recycling bin at the Coachella Music Festival. (The concert, by the way,
was reported in 2017 to produce 107 tons of waste each day.) FunWOW, for the
fifth year, will contribute a recycling bin design for Coachella 2020.
In another collaboration, and what has become their focus, the couple acquired
{9} The Gallery from founder Laura Dragon in early 2018. About a year before,
Dragon had been diagnosed with cancer and needed help running the space. She
transformed the gallery into an artists cooperative, and Carrie Beth became a
member under the FunWOW moniker. After the purchase, Carrie Beth and Sean
kept the name {9} The Gallery but eventually changed the business model from a
cooperative to a more traditional gallery, striving to show a wide variety of work
from local artists.

Photography: Jeff Chabot
Styling: Weezy’s Playhouse
Hair and Makeup: Nataliya Kovchan
But the McGarrys have taken a different approach than many galleries in terms
of choosing the type of work to show. Instead of sticking to one “genre” or a
selected group of artists, they’ve simply chosen to exhibit art that, in their words,
is of “extraordinary quality” that will “hold up over time.” At {9} The Gallery, you
might find realism, pop art, period landscapes, watercolors, abstract painting, and
sculpture, among other classifications.
The art they show is also defined by what they have access to, which typically
means work created by unrepresented local artists. Sean wants to democratize
the art scene here in Phoenix by not excluding anyone by age, style, or medium.
They’ve even shown costume designs by artist Irene Marie aka Weezy’s Playhouse,
and the gallery showcases more practical art, like clothing, furniture, and jewelry,
in its back space. For now, at least, they just want to “show great work,” Sean
says. “Greatness can come from anywhere,” he says.
Carrie Beth and Sean aim to support artists in ways beyond getting their work
sold, though. One way they have embraced the idea of contributing to artists’
growth is by hosting artist-run critiques. These are supportive events in which
artists present work that has inspired them, along with what they produced as a
result. The atmosphere is friendly and constructive, much like art school, except
without the harsh critiques. So far, there have been about a half dozen of the
events; they’ve included local artists such as Jillian Bennett, Henry Bosak, and
Antoinette Cauley, to name a few.
Sean points out that support for artists can also mean providing supplies, offering
studio space, or buying advertising for artists to keep them thinking forward.
Both curators embrace the idea of helping artists with the business aspect of
their careers. For many artists, it’s a struggle to be creative, entrepreneurial, and
business savvy all at the same time.
Carrie Beth wants artists to focus on making great work and to let her do all the
marketing. Parallel to her role, Sean hopes to be the middleman between artist
and art collector, therefore lessening the burden on the artist. His suggestion to
artists, or anyone for that matter, is to not negotiate for yourself, as there’s too
much of an emotional attachment. With these skillsets, the pair make a great art
management team.
As far as their business partnership and how they complement one another, Sean
is more engaged with the artists and focused on the art shown at the gallery,
while Carrie Beth takes care of the bookkeeping, management, and marketing. She
says her favorite time of the month is when she can pay the artists they represent.
32 JAVA
MAGAZINE

Her interest in the things that happen behind the scenes is reminiscent of the
move she made away from the stage earlier in her career. And she seems to
have no problem letting Sean have the spotlight.
When asked about the Phoenix art scene, the McGarrys are not only optimistic
but excited about where it can go. “There is tremendous opportunity in Phoenix
to expand,” says Sean. He’s talking about what many artists and art supporters
have talked about for years: putting Phoenix on the map (the global art map,
that is). The couple sees it as their job to take the Phoenix art scene and push it
beyond the state’s boundaries.
But is the Phoenix art scene big enough or even ready to become a destination
for art collectors? The two believe it is. Sean doesn’t think the Phoenix art
community is behind, but rather the art market, for not recognizing what’s here.
He has his eye focused on proving that point, and one way the couple looks
beyond Arizona is by selling artwork online through social media and websites
like Artsy.
Carrie Beth and Sean talk about how artists can live in a lower-pressure
environment here in Phoenix. There is certainly a lot of open space, not only
physical but also in terms of creative and immaterial space. Artists can pay
lower rents and experience less stress than in some of the larger and more
expensive cities. The lower cost of living can equate to more time to focus on
being creative, and sometimes time is exactly what artists need. There is also
more room to make mistakes, which Carrie Beth believes can be part of making
successful artwork. “Artists can take risks here,” she says.
What’s up next for Carrie Beth, Sean, and {9} The Gallery?
For Art Detour 2020, which takes place between Thursday, March 19, and
Monday, March 23, Carrie Beth and Sean plan to compile some of their favorite
work from the last two years at {9} The Gallery. With the wide range of artists
and artwork they’ve shown, it will be interesting to see how the show is curated
and how the work is exhibited in the space.
The couple also plans to continue expanding the gallery’s reach both statewide
and nationally, finding the right markets for the artists they represent, and
supporting their work by helping them further develop their artistic efforts.

Angel Castro
By Susan Allred Prosser
HALO Movement Collective
34 JAVA
MAGAZINE
Photo: Susan Allred Prosser

Photo: Susan Allred Prosser
Angel Castro moves like he fully inhabits his body. He has to. It’s literally
his job to know what he looks like. It’s what he does for a living and what
he does for love and artistic expression. Angel is a dancer, choreographer,
and founder of a dance company called the HALO Movement Collective.
He’s also the company’s artistic director.
Angel’s mission is to tell stories and create moods by melding dancers’ movements
with fashion. He creates opportunities for his audience to work through thoughts
and feelings they might not be able to access through other mediums. In other
words, Angel’s business is to understand the ways that the form and line of
dancers’ bodies communicate. But he didn’t plan to be a choreographer.
From a young age, Angel had been acting in musical theater. He didn’t start
dancing until he was a senior at South Mountain High, a dance magnet school.
But he quickly became good enough to audition and to be accepted into the ASU
School of Dance, where he later earned a BFA.
“I just wanted to dance. I was so against anything else. I didn’t want any part of
creating the work or being responsible for a company,” he said. But his senior
transition project required him to research a city to move to and develop a
plan for establishing a dance company – even if that wasn’t the career path he
thought he wanted.
“So I looked all around and realized that if I had to open a dance company, I
wanted to do it in Arizona.” That realization led to a project he worked on with
his mother, Cristina Castro, who had been a fashion designer. Angel designed
costumes for each of the six dancers in his project. Cristina used her training to
help Angel sew costumes that looked beautiful and could stand up to the rigors of
a dance performance.
“To me, what a dancer looks like is as important as what the body is doing. I notice
what the dancer is wearing and how that looks when they move,” he said. “All of
that is a part of the story I’m telling. It’s all part of the mood and the experience the
audience will have.”
Even though he was convinced about the strength of his ideas for making the
costumes part of the dancer’s role, he wasn’t sure how the work would be
received. “After that first show, I heard the applause and I knew that I’d connected
with the audience. I’d shown them something they could relate to, and I thought,
‘This is what I should be doing,’” he said.
Angel casts that same eye for detail over every element of the HALO Movement
Collective’s shows. He is keenly aware of the fact that most dancers need a “day
job” in order to practice their art. “When I create a show, my first concern is for
the dancers. Instead of spending lots of money on sets or a bunch of lighting and
technicians, I budget the dancers’ pay right at the start,” he said.
This approach creates a bond of trust between him and his dancers and makes him
a stronger choreographer and artistic director.
“If your choreography isn’t strong enough to stand on its own, without [lighting
tricks] or fancy sets, then you aren’t doing your job,” Angel said. His dance pieces
use sparse scenery and minimal lighting effects, to ensure that those things don’t
distract from the expressive choreography.
“I’ll sew the costumes, build the sets, whatever it takes. I learned how to take
photographs for social media, and I even shoot and edit video,” he says. This DYI
attitude also makes Angel a jack-of-all-trades who benefits from having a partner
who understands the demands of his work.
JAVA 35
MAGAZINE

Angel’s partner, Cameron Lucas Eggers, is quick to agree. “That’s why he has such
a broad set of skills,” said Cameron, who is also a dancer. “In other companies,
that same spirit is not there.”
Angel is very driven and often toils late into the night on his highly personal works.
“I have such great support [in Cameron]. He’s there with me, helping with the sets
and the costumes or whatever I need,” Angel said.
Cameron’s skills came in handy recently when set pieces for their upcoming show
arrived. They’d rented a geodesic dome that had been used at Burning Man.
The dome came in dozens of pieces, with minimal instructions for assembly. “It
reminded me of those IKEA instructions,” said Cameron. “I’ve done a lot of IKEA,
so it was easy for me.”
He had the dome assembled in just a couple of hours, safe and ready for the
dancers’ rehearsals. Cameron prefers his role in the company as support for Angel.
He isn’t an official member of HALO, but takes a lot of classes with the dancers. He
and Angel were once featured in a duet for Scorpius Dance Theatre, where they
both perform.
“A lot of couples do duets together and it’s a great experience,” Angel said. They
smiled at each other, then Cameron finished Angel’s sentence. “But it was a
lot.” They’re both happier being life partners rather than working as professional
dance partners. A part of that reason may be because Angel’s work is so
autobiographical.
“Before Cameron, I’d been in a bad relationship, and it left me in a dark place for a
while. During that time, I spent three days in a room alone, exploring what was in
my mind. We’re all so scared of mourning that we avoid it. But you have to go into
the dark place to get out of the darkness. I put a time limit on it and did it, so now
36 JAVA
MAGAZINE
I’m fine,” Angel said. His experience of learning how to manage those feelings
formed the basis of his past two shows, “Cell” and “Exile.”
“Those shows were three years in the making,” Angel said. People who’ve seen
“Cell” and “Exile” will find familiar concepts and themes in his new show,
“Rest in the Mourning.” All sixteen members of the company are in the new
production, and they each play different aspects of the same person – all based on
Angel himself.
“This feels like the completion of that period in my life,” he said. “I’m not sad
anymore, so this show has to have some resolution.” Although he has specific
events and feelings in mind when he creates and directs a show, Angel wants his
audience to feel free to view it through the filter of their own lives.
“Not everybody understands the language of dance movements, but they don’t
have to. I’ve gotten really good at creating a mood,” he said. “My work is openended
so people can each have their own experience.” For “Exile,” he asked five of
his dancers to contribute a story about a time in their lives when they felt isolated.
Each wrote a dialogue, and then all five monologues were delivered at once, with
words and stories told in layers that overlapped and intertwined.
“Audience members might hang on to one word, or they might hear a whole
sentence,” Cameron said. Angel believes that the choice to have five dancers talk
at once allowed for something almost spiritual and healing in the air. “The stories
were really personal and raw. I knew theat people would hear the specific words
they were meant to hear,” said Angel.
“HALO makes you search for abandonment. It can be mentally exhausting for the
dancers, but they trust me and are willing to do that work,” said Angel.

They were also willing to take an impromptu road trip to make promo material
for the new show. Angel knew the Glamis Sand Dunes would make the perfect
backdrop for a video introducing the themes in “Rest in the Mourning.” So he
and four of the dancers, including the lead character, packed their costumes,
hopped in a car, and drove six hours to the location.
“When we got there, we still had to walk 45 minutes to get to the place I
wanted to shoot,” Angel said. They were carrying the pieces needed to build
a temporary set inspired by the dome that they’ll use in the performance.
“That speaks to their passion and trust in me. They know that I play to their
strengths, and they’re aware of my self-sacrifice to make sure everything’s
right.” You can see the gorgeous, haunting video on the HALO website, www.
halomovementcollective.com.
Then see the show on February 15 at the Broadway Recreation Center in Mesa.
The unusual venue is a result of Angel’s insistence on making the show pay
for itself. Cameron and Angel will be rebuilding the dome inside the recreation
center on Valentine’s Day, the night before the show. Angel also decided to do
three shows in one day instead of incurring rental costs for another day. There’s
a student matinee scheduled, along with two evening shows for the public at 7
and 9 p.m.
“We all talked about it and made the decision together. It’s harder on the
dancers to do three shows in one day, but they make more money this way,”
Angel said. Spoken like a man who’s become very comfortable, and very good, in
the director’s role that he never thought he wanted to play.

GIRL ON FARMER
MYOB
BY CELIA BERESFORD
Minding my own business has never been a strong
suit. I don’t think of myself of nosy or prying, just that
I like to know what’s going on. Recently though, I’ve
noticed that when my friend Lori and I take walks
around our neighborhood, we sound like a couple of
80-year-olds. Who is that? What are they doing over
there? Why is the garbage can tipped over? What
is that guy up to? Whose dog is that? The finale is
when Lori takes a wadded-up tissue out of her sleeve
and blows her nose complaining of allergies and I
declare, “I’m writing a letter to those assholes at City
Council about this!” We make quite a pair.
To be honest, Lori is better at minding her own
(sometimes), and at the very least, because she
is working on being like the Buddha, she typically
catches herself before I do. Even so, because of the
sketchy things that happen, there are people you
just have to keep your eye on, whether you like it or
not. Lori calls this, sadly, “fulfilling the stereotypes.”
What that means is when a person or persons end
up doing the things that you wish they weren’t doing
because certain people suspect them of doing it
and then feel smugly validated when the person or
persons are in fact doing it.
For example, a few weeks ago two young African-
American boys were riding their bikes around the
neighborhood. A neighbor was out glaring at them and
“warned” me that they had been riding around for hours.
I let him know that 10-year-old kids tend to do that –
ride bikes for hours – at least that’s what they should
be doing instead of staring at screens all day. I walked
away feeling satisfied. But then the next day, the
boys were quickly zig-zagging around on their bikes
and they came darting out of this same neighbor’s
apartment complex. One of the boys yelled to the
other, “Hurry! This way!” Seconds later, the glaring
neighbor from the day before was running down the
sidewalk shouting, “They stole my mail!” Sigh. That’s
an example of “fulfilling the stereotypes.”
So, this weekend when I was trying to mind my own
business, I noticed a scruffy-looking lad, who some
might say looked a little methy, cruising the street.
Or he could just be kind of into that look. He had a
pretty decent road bike and didn’t have the signature
pockmarks of a meth head. It was a toss-up, and once
I made sure my own bike was securely locked, I didn’t
38 JAVA
MAGAZINE

I headed out on an errand and saw the same methy
lad riding his bike, but now he was also pulling
along another bike by the handlebars. It was like a
sideways tandem ride but only one rider.
give it any more attention. That is, until I headed out on an errand and saw the same
methy lad riding his bike again, but he now was also pulling along another bike by the
handlebars. It was like a sideways tandem ride but only one rider. Now I, for some
reason or another, have had to do this maneuver before – either bringing or borrowing
a bike, or something like that. However, I’d be remiss not to notice that it’s also a
signature move of a bike thief!
So what was I witnessing, a meth head fulfilling all the stereotypes or a grungy
guy delivering a bike to his friend? I have had several bikes stolen over the years,
one quite recently, and an inner vigilante was awakened. I quickly turned the car
around and followed the guy to see where he was headed with the bike. He rode
past the most popular meth hangout – a good sign. But then, after a suspiciously
circuitous route, he pulled up to the more recently established shady house of the
neighborhood.
I felt certain I was witnessing a crime, and someone was now missing their pink
beach cruiser with a basket. I headed back the way I came, looking for someone
who looked like they were looking for a stolen bike. I imagined this person
wandering the sidewalks, maybe coming from the park, looking up and down
streets in a very exaggerated way, making it clear that they had just had their
bike stolen. Maybe some tears. Either that, or possibly holding a sign, “Have you
seen my bike?” I slowly drove up and down the streets seeking justice. Also,
probably looking like a creep, slowly cruising neighborhood streets in my white
car with extensively chipped paint, staring intently out the window.
Not surprisingly, I did not find the possible victim, but that didn’t lessen my desire
for justice. Here I was, sitting on the answer to someone’s problem, and they
didn’t even know it! Having your bike stolen sucks. Particularly when it’s your
only mode of transportation. As I mentioned, I’ve had several bikes stolen. Calling
the police feels useless. They ask if it was registered and a few other questions
about bike responsibility that suggest your case is a lost cause. Understandably,
sadly, your stolen bike is just a needle in a haystack. And then, the next time your
bike is ripped off, you don’t even bother calling.
Who knows what this person would decide to do? So I called the police nonemergency
number and asked if anyone had called about a stolen pink cruiser
with a green basket. They had not. I don’t like talking to police, and even though
I’m sure they had all my data from the moment I dialed, I didn’t want to give
much information. I furtively whispered, “If someone calls about this stolen bike,
I know where it is,” and then I gave my phone number, just in case. I haven’t
heard anything, but I’m still hopeful I’ll help someone get their bike back. In the
meantime, I’ll just keep minding my own business.

NIGHT
GALLERY
Photos By
Robert Sentinery
1
2
3 4
5
6
7
8 9
10 11
1. Sonny loves the furry jacket
2. Carrie Beth from {9} The Gallery
3. Nicole and Gennaro at Royse Contemporary
4. Marshall on the mic at POZ PHX
5. Walter mama & papa, Mary and Kirk
6. Fire & Ice queen at the Where?House
7. Celebrating New Years Eve with these lovelies
8. @randy_boogie & @jslayit bringin’ it
9. NYE with Cristiana and Jesse
10. Meesh and friends at Fire & Ice
11. Rembrandt’s “Artifact” opening at Walter Gallery

12 13 14 15 16
17 18 19 20 21
22 23 24 25 26
27 28 29
12. “Alignment” artists at Cobra Flute Projects
13. Roaring ’20s NYE fun
14. F&B stars at Nook Kitchen’s grand re-opening
15. Fab drag queen Mia Inez Adams
16. NYE with the brunette squad
17. Color-pop couple on Grand Ave
18. Geo Johnson brings Freddie to Viva Life
19. More NYE fun with these two
20. Checking out {9} with these guys
21. Popping corks with Jojo
22. Native art show at Bud’s Glass Joint
23. Mandel and Destyn bring the bubbles
24. Nook Kitchen grand reopening
25. New Year’s Eve fun fete
26. First Friday art opening at Bud’s Glass Joint
27. All together now, ladies
28. Art opening at Mountain Shadows
29. Ringing in the New Year with lovely Tondra

future
Flexible Start Dates
10 Colleges Valleywide
Degree and Certificate Programs
University Transfer
maricopa.edu/flexible-start-dates
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
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
participation in the career and technical education programs of the District.
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
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
32 33 34
35 36
37 38
39
40 41
42 43 44
45 46
47
30. Vino vibes with Aileen
31. Nook Kitchen grand reopening
32. Mountain Shadows curator John Reyes and co.
33. Cheers to 2020!
34. Suntory Time at Nook Kitchen
35. Snapped at Cobra Flute Projects
36. Dapper dudes, Jesse and Gardner
37. All together now at the Lodge Art Studios
38. Nook Kitchen bosses
39. Mayme and Mark at Mountain Shadows
40. Danielle and posse at Cobra Flute
41. Plenty of cool trucks at Barrett-Jackson
42. AmieeInk and friends at 515 Gallery
43. Nook Kitchen chef & “Chopped” champ Nick LaRossa
44. First Friday at Hazel & Violet
45. Wine pourers at Artlink’s 20th annual juried exhibition
46. Josh and Andrea at Faust Gallery
47. RZST Industries group show at Bud’s Glass Joint

48 49
50 51 52
53 54
55 56
57
58 59
60
61
62
63
64 65
48. Fausto tries on a new Lexus at Barrett-Jackson
49. Rowan and Bill at Cobra Flute
50. Getting sticky in the Flex Seal tent at Barrett-Jackson
51. Andrea Vargas’ opening attendees at Faust Gallery
52. Pretty hood ornament at Barrett-Jackson
53. Mountain Shadows Gallery exhibition opening
54. Janel with her “Alignment” piece and her fam
55. Corvette lovers at Barrett-Jackson
56. Fiery trio at Fire & Ice
57. Marcelle and Eunique at Walter Gallery
58. Checking out Rembrandt’s show at Walter
59. Shela and pal, Fire & Ice at the Where?House
60. Scott parties into the night at Fire & Ice
61. Susan and Saskia at Walter Gallery
62. Randy paints live at Fire & Ice
63. Met this duo at the Where?House
64. Funkhouser in the house for Rembrandt’s opening
65. More fun at Fire & Ice

66 67 68
69
70
71
72 73
74 75
76 77 78
79 80
81 82
83
66. Who are those masked women?
67. Mary Meyer with her piece at the Artlink exhibition
68. Rembrandt and Nicole on top of Kaliope
69. Bill and Jeremy at Fire & Ice
70. Jennifer’s fire with their ice
71. Good-looking posse at the Where?House
72. Phil and his daughter at the Artlink exhibition
73. Horned group at Fire & Ice
74. Cowgirls and a boy
75. How to make a Jack sandwich
76. Photog Andrew Pielage and wifey Neuro
77. Ok, do the crazy pose
78. Jess and her crew at the Artlink show
79. Artlink’s Catrina makes it happen again
80. 20th Annual Artlink Juried Exhibition attendees
81. Kenosha with her piece in the Artlink show
82. Mikey B on the scene with Jaime and M
83. Robin becomes a cubist painting

PEGGY WIEDEMANN, Reclining, 2017,
Basket, coiling, 9 x 17 x 9 inches.
JENNY DAY, 63rd Utopian Attempt (detail), 2019,
Acrylic, colored pencil, paint pen, spray paint,
collage, flashe on canvas, 72 x 72 inches.
*
*FREE
Admission!
Letting Go of Utopia
Jenny Day
Continues through April 5!
1 East Main Street • Mesa, AZ 85201 • 480-644-6560 • MesaArtsCenter.com

FRAMED EWE
See
20 20
in 2020
Book Your Comprehensive
Eye Exam by Visiting
FRAMEDEWE.com
We Accept Your FSA & HSA
Shop FRAMEDEWE.com
PHOENIX NEW TIMES
BEST EYEWEAR 2019
Follow @FRAMEDEWE