Santa Fe

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Santa Fe - This will also be a longish post as we had so many adventures here. I will stick to those that inspired and lifted our hearts and expanded our minds.

Let me start with an observation. It rained last night and this morning in Taos. As I packed up to leave and went outside with KC, my senses were filled with a comfortableness I rarely experience away from Rancho Murieta and I was “home”. I really love this place. The drive down to Santa Fe was uneventful except for the on and off showers. As I got closer to Santa Fe, the terrain changed dramatically as the gradual rise from high desert to high mountain was replaced by the more arid desert of the southwest. Rains and run-offs have cut sharp gullies and the land is in various shifts of highs and lows. I found this dissident and out of rhythm with the long flowing elevation changes in and around Taos. You will be able to see the difference by comparing the 2 photos titled Desert to Mountains. It also snowed last night as the higher peaks were white.

I began the day by visiting the San Ildefonso Pueblo northwest of Santa Fe. We always found this Pueblo to be peaceful and quiet. We would come here in the mornings from the hustle and bustle of Santa Fe or deflating from an opera. There was an immediate transition to calm and inner peace. We initially came here for the pottery which was made world famous by Crucita Gonzales Calabaza - Blue Corn. When Betty was researching Native American artist, there were 2 women who were not only US artist of renown, but also found international acclaim- Blue Corn and Frog Woman (more about her later).

As you might imagine Betty was beside herself when we came to the Pueblo and found Blue Corn's house. She decide to go knock on her door and see if anyone was home. Not only did Crucita answer the door, but invited Betty in and for at least 30 minute Betty was being Betty. She was unable to relate the conversations, but was overwhelmed with the calm and unpretentious of this world famous potter. Betty said they talked of mothering (Blue Corn had 10 children), being a grand parent, and of course art, but her memory was light on details. We could not afford the pottery, so Betty bought a painting by Crucita's daughter. When she returned to the car, her look was a cross between a Cheshire cat and super bowl winner. This was a look and expression I came to know and love because it meant she had fulfilled a dream or a wish. This would usually happen when she met someone famous, or visited a historical landmark, or did something that seemed impossible for this “little ole okie girl”. I think the first time I witnessed this expression was on our first visit to Washington, DC. Where she embarrassed me by shouting out “I am eating a hot-dog on Pennsylvania Avenue”.

So today I returned to the Pueblo and found Blue Corn's house and as would happen only in a Pueblo, Kreig Kalabaza (Blue Corn's son) saw me standing outside his house and introduce himself. We talked for about 15 minutes until he went off to work and asked me to return tomorrow when he had more time. The rest of the time I walked and photographed the Pueblo. There was also a cemetery, but it did not impact me the same as yesterday. There was a Kiva in the square and it was next to the Kiva in front of Blue Corn's house that I made the following dedication.

Betty. This was most spiritual Pueblo of all. It was quietly understated with a large square surrounded by living quarters. Then the morning you found Blue Corn's house, knocked, was invited in, and after 30 minutes, you float out trying to remember all of the talk. You carried a small painting by her daughter and said it was the only thing you could afford. This became your Ildefonso memory and was never duplicated. So in the square next to the ceremonial Kiva opposite Blue Corn's house I dedicate your resourcefulness and creative spirit to all future Pueblo artists.

We came to the Santa Fe Opera in the 90's. For me it was love at first overture and as you can imagine Betty came because of me. We would save up to attend at least 3 and often 4 operas per visit. Initially the audience was only partly protected from the elements and with thunderstorms, not an unusual happening, led to ponchos and rain coats being the proper dress. Speaking of proper dress, there were really no rules about attire and big, bearded guys with shorts and T-shirts were admitted.

I believe Santa Fe is the best venue for opera in the world. It is not about acoustics (like I could tell the difference). It is the simplicity with no box seats and a perfect view for everyone. It was basically and open air theater with a roof over the audience. The back of the stage was also open and early arrivers could watch the sunset or a thunderstorm racing across the tinted hills. We sat in awe of our first sunset and Betty was hooked.

The opera offered 2 other functions that played into Betty's world of learning:

Each afternoon at 1:00, there was a backstage walking tour visiting the departments that made the evening performances come alive. There were hairdressers creating and maintaining the wigs most of performers wore. The makeup area was usually quiet, but was buzzing later in the day. Staging where the scenes were built and housed. Finally wardrobe where the apprentice team would create and repair dozens of costumes. Yes, these were the folks who made the performances work and it was the role Betty most appreciate. She had a backstage persona. A director not a performer. She pushed others to be great and reveled in their success.

Before each performance, a discussion of the nights opera was given in the rehearsal hall. Often not spellbinding, but always informative. Betty always tried to get good seats so I would be able to hear and understand, many is the time I would see her elbowing her way thru the crowd, turn, smile and point at 2 seats in the front row. Then during the performance we would nudge each other and smile as we felt in the know. Neither of us will forget a presentation prior to the Mozart opera Mitridate that was indeed spellbinding. When Mitridate was written and performed, opera seria was the preferred style and the presenter helped us understand the staging, the performers, and the structure of the arias. We nudged and smiled a lot that night.

I will just mention, Betty was never lost at the opera. If she was out of sight, go to the gift shop.

I went back to the opera yesterday, but it was closed for the season. I wandered outside taking photographs and reliving the days and nights gone by. The dedication site reveal itself as I walked to the entrance. A garden of flowers surrounded by 4 benches with the box office on the left, the gift shop on the right, and the opera house straight ahead.

Betty. Our adventures are almost legendary. Our first time here resulted in a promise to return again and again. The backstage tours, pre-opera talks, the rain blowing in on us, and the performances the worst of which were wonderful. Our first tailgate with the Ranger pickup where we ate cheese and crackers washed down with Pepsi while all around others supped from linen cover tables sipping wine from crystal goblets. It was amazing. Your favorite performance was Salome. An hour and 45 minutes of intense music, soaring arias, and inspired performances. With no intermission both us and the audience were overwhelmed and drained. A night like no other. So I dedicate your love of live performances to all of those who toil in their craft and hope they will become masters so they will leave future audiences as they did you - breathless.

I awoke this morning to wet rainy day, but I could not tarry as I wanted to be early to the downtown Plaza and then go back to San Ildefonso. I got to Plaza a little after 7 AM and the rain had turn to showers. The people at this time of the day were heading to work, get a coffee to start the day, walking their dog, preparing to display and sell their jewelry, and one person huddled on the stage carving on a piece of wood. Myself and KC added to the mix. We were not an unusual sight. I walked and photographed and finally sat to reflect on Betty and our time in Santa Fe.

In 1998 Kent and Donna Gould joined us in Santa Fe for the opera. Kent who never let a business chance go by especially when he could write off the travel, meals, and lodging, to attend an opera. So we camped at a KOA, Betty and I in our Plymouth Voyager and Kent and Donna in their $350,000 motor home. Each night we head to the opera, but one evening a thunderstorm was in full bloom and rain was blowing in the west side of the theater right where Kent and Donna were sitting. They loved it and also the performance of Madame Butterfly. Why all this? It lead us to a special luncheon with a Leader in the NM State Senate. Betty did not react like she had with Blue Corn as a tall older man in cowboy boots, bolo tie, and leather coat with tassels met us for lunch. He and Kent talked business. Betty and Donna talked and laughed. I sat like a person watching a tennis match back and forth between the two couples. I did however have an interest in the business discussion for I would like to be the project manager for Southwest business. Betty was all for it, however her fingers and toes were crossed (remember distance from chickens). Although discussions continued, the fit did not work out. Betty and I did not have to make a move decision and calm was restored.

After lunch, the four of us went shopping. Actually Kent and Donna went shopping for real, while Betty and I observed. We were fascinated watching 2 people into jewelry acting like kids in a candy store. We went off and examined the Native American pots and painting and discovered the products were a little overpriced. We were there many times, but never were able to attend Indian Market, when the influx of artists, buyers and collectors would often double Santa Fe's population. We came very close one year as we got there along with my sister Leslee Bollea and her family on Thursday as setup was going on. Betty and I talked about staying for at least one day, but the Bollea schedule was tight. Additionally, we were in the midst of a medical emergency as Paul (Leslee's husband) had a piece of sopapia caught in his throat. As we drove around the Plaza, the word from my sister "Paul was in severe pain", so we drove to a Santa Fe hospital ER where the problem was resolved.

All of these events and adventures revolved around the Plaza where stores sold Cartier and RC Gorman paintings while the local Indians took up one side of the Plaza to sell their wares. This morning was no different. At the sound of the church bell striking 8:00, the Native Americans who had gathered on the south side of the Plaza began to clean off the sidewalk and start to layout their offerings for the day. The street was blocked to traffic (except unloading vendor vehicles), so shopping would be unimpeded. Many days during the summer season, we saw potential buyers standing 4 and 5 deep waiting to get their chance at a great deal. As I observed the process, it appeared there was a pecking order for which location each person had as there was a meeting of all the vendors a little after the 8:00 church bell. There was also a man with a clipboard walking up and down the street making comments and pointing. All of this took place in hushed tones as this was serious business even on a rainy September morning.

I spotted a tree, taller than the rest and sitting on the bench next to it began this dedication.

Betty. We came too the Plaza the first time in the late morning and were shocked at how it was arranged. Expensive jewelry shops, artist galleries, and the La Fonda hotel while on the south side Native Americans laid out on rugs their jewelry. However we came to learn this was the order of things on the Plaza. When we went to opera with Kent and Donna in 1998 and Kent was all about business. So we were invited to lunch with a powerful New Mexico State Senator in hopes of landing some contracts. We had some amazing experiences in downtown Santa Fe. The year of the painted ponies, exploring museums and galleries, and shopping for Native American art we could not afford. So this morning, I dedicate your adventurous spirit and enthusiasm to those who need to rest and recoup under this tree.

I did go to San Ildefonso and spent a hour with Blue Corn's son, but will create a separate document and make it available.

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Photos

Desert to Mountains
Looking east from the Santa Fe opera

San Ildefonso Pueblo
Named after its most famous potter

Dedication Site
In square opposite home of Blue Corn

West Side of Opera House
Rain would blow in and soak audience

Opera Parking Lot
Overall view of the opera house and the site of our famous taigating

Dedication Site
Santa Fe Opera

Plaza Shops
Shop on right advertises Cartier

Cleanup
Crafters cleaning the sidewalk after the 8AM bell

Setup
Crafters laying out the blankets and rugs

Dedication Site
Tree on Santa Fe Plaza grounds