Visiting the Phoenix Art Museum

On Wednesday Dear Husband and I visited the Phoenix Art Museum, which had come highly recommended by a friend.

Something I appreciated about Phoenix (and Scottsdale) was the ubiquity of public art: at bus stops, on highway interchanges, etc. There was even art in the museum parking lot. The diving figure on the left reminded me of a baseball player reaching to catch a ball, while DH liked the Tyrannosaurus Rex in a cage on the right.

Left, me reading the floor map in front of a collage. Right, a piece called "Mass," an exploded cube of charred wood salvaged from a church that burned after a lightning strike.

Is it art? This look like a shelf in your grandparents' garage, but it is actually made of fiberglass.

These mercurial blobs are definitely art.

Selfie snapped before we entered the immersive installation that is "You Who Are Getting Obliterated in the Dancing Swarm of Fireflies" by Yayoi Kusama. It is a mostly dark room with strands of tiny flickering colored lights that reflect on the black tile floor and mirrored walls. When you step in, you're not sure which way is up (kind of like how my body is going to feel after traveling Mountain Time --> Eastern Time --> end of Daylight Saving Time --> Central Time in the space of 24 hours to go from vacation to home to a conference in Chicago). DH constantly felt like he was falling, while I braced myself with a hand on one wall while I walked the perimeter. It was a trippy experience until our eyes adjusted to the dark, and we could hear other people getting ready to enter, so we found the exit.

Next we visited the fashion wing for "The Modern Cut of Geoffrey Beene." To the left is the first piece of clothing the PHX acquired, a sequin and feather number of his; the black and white figures in the background are a facsimile of the mural in the entranceway of his atelier. I had never heard of Beene (born Samuel Albert Bozeman Jr., 1924-2004) and felt vindicated when a book in the museum shop of "50 designers you need to know" omitted him, although it stopped in 1990, and he appears to have hit his stride in the '90s. This may be thanks to his partnership with the American Ballet Company for fashion shows or a false narrative encouraged by the fact that the majority of pieces of his that they own were donated by a fashionista who wore his label from the late '80s to the early 2000s. Some of the pieces looked dated, but others were fresh. I thought the captions were particularly good at pulling out interesting details, such as the various hem treatments, or variations on a single theme (such as polka dots). I'm definitely not cool enough to have worn most of it, but I did like this black and purple evening gown with tailored jacket.

After a leisurely lunch in the central garden next to a burbling water feature, it was upstairs to look for the historical dollhouse rooms, since neither of us was in the mood for absorbing the impact of their Asian / European / American collections. Signage in the building(s) left a lot to be desired, especially since the upper floors of the two wings don't connect. I had almost given up (despite finding another John Coleman, right--we had seen this exact statue at the Western Spirit Museum in Scottsdale the day before), when finally we found them: the rest of the Thorne miniatures collection (the other half is at the Art Institute in Chicago).

Of course, the one thing I wanted in the museum shop was priced three times as much as I was willing to pay for it. So we picked up take out from a downtown Japanese restaurant that uses purple rice and went "home" to our AirBnB for a nap before eating dinner, a walk around the neighborhood, and (re)watching Forrest Gump.

Scottsdale & the Spirit of the West

After learning about the Hohokam near the airport and the considerable history and talents on display at the Heard Museum in Downtown Phoenix, I decided that this year we would spend some time exploring Scottsdale. We're not the type to buy things in boutiques or art galleries, but we enjoyed walking around the Old Town and looking at the shops and the art. There were the requisite statues and paintings of bucking broncos, but our favorite was probably "One-Eyed Jack." He's a "wild" jackrabbit and a lucky symbol of rebirth.

After a nice lunch dining alfresco, Dear Husband and I walked down to Western Spirit: Scottsdale's Museum of the West. Here is the museum entrance and a shot from its central sculpture garden. It contains a variety of exhibits, such as a portion of a Pittsburgh man's collection of Western memorabilia. The docent who gave our tour tried to make a joke about the man having "a serious disease"--which turned out to be "the collector's bug." It was a "Please laugh" moment.

Anyway, he told us a lot of stories about Annie Oakley, (1860-1926) who would shoot glass pigeons like these, blown by Tiffany's and stuffed with feathers. She was born and died in Ohio, although she and her husband built a house in Cambridge, MD, on the Eastern Shore late in life. I didn't know that she had been in a railway accident in 1901 (it made me think of Frido Kahlo, although her bus accident was in 1925).

The docent was also big fan of John Coleman's (1949- ) art, especially his bronze statues. This one, called "Gall, Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse, 1876" for the year of Custard's Last Stand, depicts the warriors as accurately rendered as he could from photographs and descendants. The docent described each man as using what he had acquired from white men to defeat them: a bleeding heart hatchet, the desperation of having lost their families, repeating-action rifles, and in the case of Sitting Bull, using the French he learned at an Indian School to read about Napoleon's strategies of war.

Downstairs was also a large exhibit on a white man's photographs of southwestern Native Americans and their cultural products, as hew as sure that "they were a vanishing race." "Light and Legacy: The Art and Techniques of Edward S. Curtis" showcases some of the more than 40,000 images Curtis (1868-1952) made west of the Mississippi and along the Pacific Coast in the process of creating 20 volumes and 20 portfolios on The North American Indian (1907-1930).

The section "Turning Copper in Paper" talked about the various kinds of image techniques he used:  photogravures, glass and copperplates, goldtones (actually made with copper), platinum prints, silver bromide and gelatins, and cyanotypes.

Upstairs were a number of sections on historical artefacts (Buffalo Bill commissioned the painting on the right). Below are Navajo "chief blankets," a craft they originally learned from the Pueblo Indians, that demonstrate the evolution of Native design.

There were a number of representative paintings from the Taos School, founded by two Europeans, one of whom summered in Arizona and wintered in Europe (yes, you read that right).

After so many images made by other people, I decided to focus on Native American self-portraits. This is a Crow blanket from pre-1850 on which the artist has depicted himself as a blue warrior defeating a variety of enemies over the years.

Here are some examples of what is called "Plains Indian Ledger Art," drawn on the pages of ledgers from the 1860s-1880s.

Finally, there was a retrospective of photographic portraits of ranchers and their families.

I chose to do the matte side of the succulent puzzle, figuring it would be easier to solve with four discrete sections, but after sorting the pieces, it turned out that the tiny repeating details of the petals may have made this the harder of the two options. Ah well. "Next time" I can do the other side.

Phoenix, AZ, Take 2

Last March, Dear Husband and I enjoyed our trip to Phoenix, but we missed out on Cactus League baseball due to the labor dispute that wiped out Spring Training. So we made the rare decision to return to a place we had already visited. I booked us in the same AirBnB in a quiet neighborhood on the eastern edge of the city, but otherwise our itinerary was almost completely different.

Even though DH has some loyalty to the Cubs and the Guardians, I got us tickets at the two stadiums in Scottsdale to cut down on the time we would spend in traffic. Also because Cubs' tickets start at $30 to sit on the grass, and $60 for an actual seat.

No pictures of the Scottsdale Stadium exterior, because we underestimated how long it would take us to find parking in the city center and were consequently 10 minutes and 2 lead-off homeruns late to the game between the Milwaukee Brewers and San Francisco Giants. As a long-time Baltimore Orioles fan, it was disorienting to see so much black and orange unaccompanied by the familiar bird.

We had bleacher seats in the sun and were quite warm, finally moving into some shade from the grandstand as fans starting leaving toward the end. It was the more exciting of the two meet-ups we saw in terms of baseball (a rundown! a player who started an inning with a bunt single and proceeded to steal second and third base!), but the stadium experience was duller: no organ player, few inter-inning games (they did have two kids in cactus costumes race on the warning track), and so many advertisements--including on the massive light poles--that there wasn't even room for the batting lineup on the jumbotron.

For the Texas Rangers vs Colorado Rockies match at Salt River Fields at Talking Stick, not only did I splurge on tickets behind home plate, but I reserved parking in the "home plate lot." Best $25 I spent all week, as it meant we we could zip in and out with little traffic, walking, or fuss.

According to their website, "Salt River Pima-Maricopa Indian Community (SRPMIC) partnered with the Arizona Diamondbacks and Colorado Rockies to build the award-winning Salt River Fields at Talking Stick, which opened in 2011 as the first Major League Baseball Spring Training facility to be built on Indian land in the nation."

"Salt River alerts baseball fans that they are visiting the Salt River Pima-Maricopa Indian Community.  Fields refers to the 12 practice fields located within the facility and also the Community’s rich agricultural history.  Talking Stick is an historical reference to the traditional Pima calendar stick on which carvers recorded historical events and milestones."

"The Salt River Fields at Talking Stick Logo was designed by local Pima artist Royce Manual and refined by Dallas-based design firm, FocusEGd. Manuel incorporated a rattlesnake to symbolize the Arizona Diamondbacks and the role the rattlesnake plays in Native American legend. The logo emphasizes a mountain to symbolize the Colorado Rockies and the scenic mountain ranges that surround Salt River Fields."

We enjoyed the cheesy live theater organ themes between plays, and there were the usual trivia and shell games between innings. No t-shirt cannon, though.

It was rather chilly in the shade, so for the sixth inning we walked around the ballpark to get some sun and enjoy a 360-degree view of the action.

As I rarely make the time to concentrate on a jigsaw puzzle at home, I decided to do this succulent puzzle a little bit at a time such that, almost like a magical charm, the vacation would be over when I finished it.

A Grand Pause in the Heart of Ohio Amish Country

The big news is that Dear Husband is changing jobs! He has been hired as the music director and  organist at Sewickley Presbyterian Church. We are sad to be leaving our friends at Third Presbyterian Church after 6 years, but this full-time position (with benefits!)(and a pay scale that reflects his doctorate!) is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that was too good to pass up. PLUS, the assistant music director is an old friend who used to live 2 doors down from us in Point Breeze until they moved to Sewickley for him to take his position. Pittsburgh really is a small town like Baltimore.

As soon as I knew when DH's last Sunday at Third Pres was, I dropped whatever I was doing to book us a weekend getaway. People who work Monday through Friday jobs may not appreciate how rare and exciting it was to think we could take off for 2 days without having to worry about being back in time for church on Sunday morning. On one month's notice so close to Valentine's Day, I couldn't find a cabin with a jacuzzi tub within an hour's drive, so I opted for one 2.25 hours away in "the heart of Ohio Amish country." I took my last available vacation day on Friday afternoon so we could leave at 1pm, and arrive for check-in at 3pm. As it was, we left a little late but had a lovely drive along Tappan Lake, arriving at the Pretzel Nook in downtown Berlin (emphasis on the first syllable) right before they closed at 4pm. He had the garlic and herb pretzel and I the cinnamon and sugar one. Here we are savoring our warm, baked to order snacks!

I had wanted to walk up and down Main Street to window shop, but the road was kind of busy and the weather too cool, so we moved on. It was 5 minutes down the road to a cute cabin on a hillside overlooking a pond. Out the front windows, we could see horses on the hillside of the farm across the road. Outdoor amenities included our own parking pad, a picnic table, a grill, a firepit, and wooden rocking chairs on the front porch. Because we came in February, we didn't avail ourselves of those. However, we did enjoy the efficiency kitchen, comfy couch and large flat-screen TV, king-sized bed, and spacious bathroom with both a shower and a jacuzzi tub (with a chandelier!). Everything was done in wood and stone, and there was plenty of light inside. 

 There was a regular house just behind us; we wondered whether they (originally?) owned the land that was too hilly to farm and so decided to develop it as part of the burgeoning tourism industry.

There is no wood around this cabin, so the blinds were appreciated for privacy.

The paving you can see is the driveway in the property, there's actually a dropoff

to the main road below that, and the pond is part of the farm across the road.

Is this cottage chic?

I didn't get any photos, but actually the kitchen table and coffee table both had

live-edge tops and legs out of burnished twisting branches that looked pretty cool. 

The bathroom was half again as large as the main room.

For the first time in our relationship, we took a trip for which I had planned no activities except for dinner Friday evening at one of the local Amish buffet restaurants, Mrs. Yoder's Kitchen. Rather than try to see cheese-making, Amish handcrafts, the railroad museum, the wood-carving museum, the Swiss-Amish museum, the world's largest cuckoo clock, or even the local state park, we stayed in, watched two movies, used the jacuzzi, read, sewed, cooked, ate, and napped. We did minimal emailing and patient care. It was the rejuvenating break from schedules and expectations that we needed--a "grand pause" in musical parlance. DH said the only thing that would have made it better would have been snow. As it was, we had sun and clear skies for the driving both ways.

Plus, I finished the Princess Bride cross-stitch sampler he got me for Christmas! Because the kit didn't match the instructions, the Etsy seller actually sent me a whole second kit. I'll make it again, hopefully better the second time, keep one for myself and gift or donate the other one.

DH's transition is actually almost a month long. While he is not playing for 3 Sundays, he is still going back to Third during the week to be let in to practice the organ. Next Sunday we will go to church with friends before flying out to Phoenix for our annual Spring Break vacation. The week after that we're going Sunday brunch (another first for us!) before putting me on a plane to Chicago for a nutrition in medical education conference. He starts at Sewickley after that, and of course I'll share photos.