More Morada

Long View

White cross and Steeple

At the end of November I offered a lengthy post about La Morada de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe which I described as the mother ship of Northern New Mexico’s 19 Catholic lay chapels or meeting houses. I was in error as there were as many as 35 of these places of worship. In any event that post became the skeleton of what will be my March-April contribution to Shadow and Light magazine. I’ve learned more about the Catholic Church's resolution to award sole control of the sacred place to the Penitente Brotherhood. I am not swayed. It was overreach by the parish priest. My article will be an expanded version of what you read on November 27.

A glimmer of turquoise

Inside Corner

13th Station of the Cross

In a more recent post, I spoke to the mind-numbing effort to consolidate the contents of many external hard drives into two devices. Achieving that was rewarding unto itself. But the icing on the proverbial cake was uncovering a cache of morada photographs that I knew I had but couldn’t find. Here are a few.

Sun ,Song and a Splash of Color

Red Window, Silver City, New Mexico

La Morada de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, Taos, New Mexico

Window on the Plaza, Taos, New Mexico

Last week I opened with the admission that I had little to say and that the images would have to suffice. Then I prattled on for some 600 words about my encounter with the Limeliters during those halcyon days of sun, surf and song. At least sun and song. Today, I’ll be true to my word when I tell you that here are a few more photographs that vie for a place in my Spot Color portfolio, on my website and for inclusion in Peggy’s and my late August show at Wilder Nightingale.

Monhegan Patterns, Monhegan Island, Maine

Art Deco in Silver City

If this isn’t the least wordy post ever, it’s close.

Folk Lore and Other Fables

The Pine Café, Independence, California.

I have few words today as I’m in the throes of organizing something like 20 terabytes of photographs dating back to 2014. That scintillating task entails consolidating three billion images, I tend to inflate, from three big hard drives into one muy bigger one. That does not include five back-up drives that splay across my workspace. The result, nonetheless, will be less clutter, fewer cables, and less plugs in sockets. There may even be enough desk top left to replace the scanner that bit the dust last year.

Peek-a-boo, Lama, New Mexico.

Subtle Sky, Santa Paula, California.

That said, here is the second round of new Spot Color images which may or not be shown in the fifth biannual Immel + Immel show at Wilder Nightingale Fine Art in Taos at the end of August.

Red Stool in Rain, Telluride, Colorado.

Reflected Sky #1, Bartlett, New Hampshire.

And speaking of folk music, which we weren’t, there was at least one more close encounter with a folk super group of the era. The era being the early Sixties. My partner John and I were more or less the resident folk act at Arizona State University and were invitees to many a party after performances by visiting acts. One such act was The Limeliters, the Bay Area group founded by Lou Gottlieb, a musicologist at UC Berkeley, Glenn Yarbrough, a soaring tenor and star in his own right, and Alex Hassilev, a Paris born actor and musician who spoke six languages. Hassilev, I recall had a small part in the hilarious film The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming. He is still with us at 90. Yarbrough died in 2016 at 83, Gottlieb at 73 in 1996.

Anyway, we attended a party after the Limeliters performed. We did a short set which was met with hearty applause. Hassilev was complimentary in a self-impressed way but was less sanguine about my beloved Martin 000-18, the iconic steel string guitar of the time. It was the gold standard of acoustic guitars. He shamed my choice of instruments saying something like, “Real musicians play classical guitars.” Being a gob smacked twenty-year old I promptly sold my 000-18 so I could buy a nylon string Goya G40 which later was stolen out of Lynn Quayle’s Triumph Spitfire in broad daylight. There may have been a bar involved. The Goya wasn’t my smartest move as a pre-1967 Martin 000-18 would be worth as much as $10,000 today. The G40 might bring a piddling grand. I had bought the used Martin at Chicago Music in Tucson in the fall of 1959 for $100. New ones brought $150 plus the case. How I came up with $100 when I was living on $150 a month is a mystery to this day.

To my surprise, Chicago Music is still purveying fine guitars after 100 years in Downtown Tucson. To think I bought that fine instrument 63 years ago makes me feel ver old, indeed.

Immel + Immel in Five parts

Red Umbrella, Los Angeles

Street lamp at dusk, San Miguel de Allende

I’m serving two masters. I’m adding to my Spot Color portfolio and assembling a selection of images for the fifth biannual Immel + Immel show that opens at the end of August at Wilder Nightingale Fine Art here in Taos. It’s hard to believe that Peggy and I have been collaborating on these two-person shows for ten years. Thanks to her for initiating our artistic partnership at Wilder Nightingale in 2013. It’s been a grand journey.

Blue sky at the Upper Oro Mine, Leadville, Colorado

Pink shawl, San Miguel de Allende

Turn Signal. El Prado, New Mexico

For this weekly post, number 811 I’ll have you know, I had two possible subjects, new or at least unshown spot color images or a handful more folk era tales. It turns out I had a few more brushes with musical luminaries in the early sixties than I remembered last week. I’ll polish those additions to last week’s post soon.

In the meantime here are some dandy candidates for the upcoming Immel + Immel fete and for the Spot Color series. Peggy and I are working on a theme and a perky title for our show; one that’s clever, descriptive and keeps our field of play wide enough that we have room to roam.

There are enough possible spot color additions that I post these images in more than one tranche. Two at least.