It was a miserable night. So very hot. We just could not get the heat down or the cool up. The bathroom was totally miserable when the door was closed, because it had only a baseboard pumping out heat.
My husband K got up at 6:45 and woke me at 7:48.
We went over to the breakfast room for another delicious breakfast. I got juice, yogurt with granola and peaches, followed by delicious French toast. K got the same starter, but with coffee. He had waffles, which he really enjoyed.
At 9:48, I checked out and told the older guy by the desk about the heat. There was no apology, but he said he'd be sure to get it fixed.We then got on the road with the odometer reading 25553.
Heading south on NM Rte. 68, we glimpsed the Rio Grande now and again.
At 10:46 (25596), we stopped at a Murphy Express in Espanola, NM. We'd put 389.6 miles on the tank and it needed 8.513 gallons @$3.087. It cost a total of $26.30 and the car had gotten 45.7553 mpg. Not bad! We were on the road in 6 minutes.
At 11:11, near Cuyamungue,on the Santa Fe Trail, we saw this ornate overpass.
I found out the following: Posuwaegeh is Towa for "place to drink." The Pojoaque Pueblo owns a market, restaurants, casinos, a hotel, and even an 18 hole golf course just to the east of the Posuwaegeh Overcrossing. This is a single-span reinforced concrete box girder bridge. The outside of the box girder is painted with symbols for mountains, clouds, and (maybe) water. Large 'whirling logs' (a symbol for the infinite) were painted on the walls extending up from the abutments.
Just a few minutes later, we saw these stacked rocks in Tesuque Pueblo, NM
At 11:32 (25623), after a mixture of green and desert driving, we parked in the Grant Avenue Parking lot in Santa Fe, paying a painful $20. At least the car was going to sit for a while. As we left the parking lot and headed down the street, we saw this cute pizzeria, that was, sadly, closed.
We already had tickets for The Georgia O'Keeffe Museum for noon, which had been recommended on the site. We took a few minutes to photograph the exterior, which had a definite adobe feel.
The museum covers the span of her life and her varying styles and media. It was a surprise to me that she had ever done anything other than paint, but here was a lovely sculpture called Abstraction 6/10, which was her earliest sculpture. It dates to 1916, which is also the year her mother died. So, they think it is a figure in mourning. I can see that.
There were lovely calla lilies, of course, such as Calla Lily for Alfred [her husband, the photographer Alfred Stieglitz] from 1927 and Calla Lily Turned Away from 1923. I'm not sure which I prefer.
She really knew how to use color, as in Pink Ornamental Banana (1939) and Series 1-From the Plains (1919).
This is how some of the galleries looked. This painting, The Beyond (1972), hangs in this room and is believed to be the last painting she painted unaided. In 1971, she was diagnosed with macular degeneration, a horrible disease for a painter.
The museum card had this interesting information about Petunia No. 2 (1924):
By the early 1920s, Georgia O'Keeffe had been using flowers as a subject for almost two decades. Through her relationship with Alfred Stieglitz, whom she married in 1924, she learned photographic processes such as enlargement. She applied this perspective to the composition of her flower paintings, depicting individual blooms as if seen through a close-up lens. Petunia No. 2 was both one of her first large-scale flower paintings and among the first to be exhibited when it was included in the seminal 1925 show Seven Americans organized by Alfred Stieglitz at the Anderson Galleries in New York.
You definitely get the feeling of a blown-up painting here.
The museum noted how much she loved New Mexico and I think it is evident in the painting of Black Mesa Landscape, New Mexico / Out Back of Marie's II from 1930.
Of course, they had to have examples of her bones and flowers paintings. I am not into horses, but this is a really neat painting- Horse's Skull with White Rose (1931).
They had her art supplies as well as examples of her iconic attire.
Naturally, we visited the gift shop at the end. There were some rather pricey items, but I still found a few things to buy.
When we left at 1:20, we took my purchases to the car and left them, while picking up the backpack. We used Google to help us find a restaurant that our older daughter's colleague had suggested, Coyote Cantina.
The route led us down Burro Alley. There was a very nice sculpture of one at the bottom.
When we arrived at the restaurant, we found that lunch was up on the roof. We climbed the stairs had found bright, colorful decor.
We requested to be under cover, both from the sun and the possibility of rain. We were seated at 1:46.
Since it is a thing in this area, we ordered Mama Schutz' Frito Pie for $14. Cultural experience, you know. Then, because we've never seen them offered before, we also go BBQ Duck Quesadilla for $16. I got a Diet Coke and K ordered iced tea. We had plenty of time to appreciate our surroundings, while waiting for the food. When it did come, both dishes were delicious! The Frito Pie was red chile beef, tomato, onion, sour cream, beans, cheese, lettuce, and, of course Fritos. It had a bit of a kick, but wasn't really hot. The duck for the quesadilla was slow-roasted with asadero and poblano.
We were tempted to get desert, but it did look like rain and we had a walk to the car. We were out at 2:37 and at the car at 2:45.
At 2:57 (25624), we were parked in the garage across the street from the New Mexico state capitol, which was free (!). When we got across the street, we discovered that the landscaping was littered with flowers and sculptures. Already, I liked this place.
All of the sculptures were by New Mexican artists. These three are "Buffalo Dancer" by Doug Hyde, "Emergence" by Michael A. Naranjo, and "Tug O' War" by Glenna Goodacre. The "grapes" really are; they are Oregon grapes.
santafe.org provided the following about the building:
Today's New Mexico State Capitol, known as the Roundhouse, is the only round capitol building in the country. It was built by Robert E. McKee with a design by W.C. Kruger that combined elements of New Mexico Territorial style, Pueblo adobe architecture and Greek Revival adaptations. The 232,000 square-foot Roundhouse was dedicated on Dec. 8, 1966.
From a bird's-eye view, the Roundhouse resembles the Zia sun symbol, which is also emblazoned on the New Mexico state flag. The image, which originated at Zia Pueblo, incorporates elements representing the sun's rays, the four directions, the four seasons, and the four phases of life. The State Seal of New Mexico, carved in stone, hangs above each of the Roundhouse's four entrance wings.
The four-story Roundhouse includes a subterranean story and a central
interior Rotunda that rises 60 feet through the top three stories. The
Rotunda's design elements include New Mexico Travertine marble featuring
a turquoise and brass mosaic depicting the New Mexico State Seal. The
ceiling skylight of stained glass is patterned after a Native American
basket weave symbolizing the sky and the earth.
Wish there were a way to see it from above somewhere in town. The article went on to explain that those sculptures outside were just a taste of what was to come.
The New Mexico Capitol Art Collection was created in 1991 when the New Mexico Legislature founded the Capitol Art Foundation. The Collection consists of nearly 600 artworks, exhibited in the interior public spaces of the State Capitol Complex, as well as on the Capitol grounds. The Collection includes paintings, photography, works on paper, sculpture, mixed media, textiles, ceramic and glass works, as well as furniture. In all there are over 600 New Mexico artists represented. The collection is currently valued at over ＄5.6 million dollars.
The Clay Buchanan Memorial Gardens on the Roundhouse's 6.5 acre grounds display sequoias, Russian olive trees, roses and more than 100 other kinds of New Mexico flora as well as abstract and figurative sculptures from the Capitol Art Collection.
We went through security and then had to cross the rotunda to get to the office to stamp my capitols passport book. #35 achieved!
We had pretty much free rein to roam the capitol building of our 47th state (1912).
Just heading down the hall to the restroom, you could see it was as round inside as out.
The Senate and House chambers are rather mundane and indistinguishable from each other.
But there are little details, like the design in the elevators and up on the beams in the corridors, that are pretty cool. They display the flags of their counties up at the top level of the rotunda. And the floor of the rotunda displays the state seal.
If that was all they had, it would be nice, but wouldn't say much about them. But, that idea of the art collection is absolutely brilliant! I've never seen a capitol celebrate its citizens the way this place does. I ran around every floor and alcove, taking photos of stuff that spoke to me in some way. At one point, K decided to just sit in one of those alcoves and wait.
And that sitting? Even it was by the New Mexicans. Each alcove had a different style of furniture.Admittedly, some of it was too pretty to sit on.
There were temporary exhibits on the ground floor. I was more struck by what was above. For example, Canyon Segundo by Donald Anderson, 1991, appealed to me for the lines and the suggestion of the canyon without all the details.
These six paintings make up We Trust in the Loyalty of Old Friends, Bob Rikoon, 1979-1982. So much work and so much happening in them. They look like windows on the world of New Mexico.
Since there are Native Americans in New Mexico, of course there are beautiful weavings like these by Annie Succo and Martha Benally.
How about this pair for combining modern colors with Native American motifs? Hoshonzeh, 1992, acrylic on panels by Douglas Johnson.
The Catholicism in the area is represented by Ruben Gallegos' "El Santero" 1986, "Our Lady of Peace" 1986, "El Santuario de Chimayo" 1990, all of which are acrylic on ostrich egg.
The governor's office door was open and we could see art in there, too, We weren't sure that we could go in. So, we didn't.
There were windows in various alcoves and you could look out on surrounding streets. The nearby houses were not particularly remarkable.
We exited the capitol through the door opposite the one that we entered, so that we could easily access the sculptures that we knew had to be out there.
We found Allan Houser's Morning Prayer and Passage by Dan Namingha. The light hitting the latter had a cool effect.
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We got a good look at the curve of the "Roundhouse", as well as the New Mexico flag unfurled in the breeze.
At opednews.com, I found Bob Haozous's discussion of his obviously symbolic piece Gate/Negate:
This image of a locked gate was a chance for me to analyze multiple issues of cultural exclusion and identity and a recent public arts censorship issue. This gate has all the characteristics of modernity as seen from an indigenous perspective. The lock keeping the gate shut is a heart symbolizing the pretence of love. On the top of the gate is a coil of razor wire symbolizing our isolationism, and the face of the sculpture is covered with bullet holes, airplanes, dollar signs, crosses and racially stereotyped faces representing the American melting pot concept. After installation I painted the names of the extinct peoples who once inhabited the Americas.
The decision to paint the ancestral names of these 460 tribes in public view arose from the need to reacquaint myself to seemingly distant fellow Americans.
The Santa Fe Visitors Center was just a few minutes walk down the trail. We arrived at about 4:30. We found this nice display, but not much else of interest inside. Outside, you could tell the building had been repurposed.
At 4:52, we were back in the car and soon on the road. It was 91° and felt like that, supposedly. We also found out we were at 6690 feet in elevation.
At 5:22(25630), I checked in for my reservation at the Econo Lodge a bit south of downtown. The room wasn't fancy, but it was spacious. The sink was outside of the toilet/tub room and the shelf had a decorative motif.
While I took a shower, K went to a nearby Albertson's to pick up dinner. When he returned, we packed it in the soft-sided cooler we'd been using and were on the road at 6:41.
On I-84, near our destination, they had these really cool retention walls.
At 7:03 (25643), we parked at the mostly outdoor Santa Fe Opera. It's pretty famous and K really wanted to come. We spread out the repast he'd picked up on the console between us and enjoyed the meal with the windows rolled down.
We finished eating at 7:35 and decided it was time to go in. The views to the east (Bandelier National Monument and Sangre de Cristo Mountains) and the west (Jemez Mountains) were lovely.
The entrance is not fancy and not what you think of when you think "opera house", but this is an outdoor theater to take advantage of the cooler mountain air, which we will discuss shortly.
Inside the courtyard, there were concessions and a shop, of course. I got our grandbaby board books that played music by Vivaldi and Mozart and souvenirs for us. There was a wall by the restrooms that was a water wall.
We were here to see Wagner's Der fliegende Holländer (The Flying Dutchman) sung in German. It is actually the first opera I attended, with him no less, back when we were dating. That was at Wolf Trap, which is also outdoors, but wasn't as hot as here. The fact that it was in German was supposed to make me happy, but, honestly, sung German, not to mention operatic, is tough to follow. The shipping crates in the poster are quite literally part of the set.
When we went in, our seats were near the back on the first floor. The view from the door is the first photo. The view from our seats is the second. Those screens on the backs of the seats are where you could see what was being sung. We both chose English, that way I could test my hearing comprehension.
It turned out that that corner, with a wall to our left and one behind us was seriously warm. At intermission, I just stood in a space I discovered near the ladies room that had a tremendous breeze. K bought a water to share and suggested we move down to empty seats. I was nervous about that, but the heat was unbearable. Plus, when we walked down, we discovered a cross breeze that was too good to give up. I really hoped that the actors on stage were getting such a breeze.
As it happened, we'd chosen seats near a clarinetist K had just seen at ClarinetFest. He and his wife come to this opera house all the time. His wife knew German and they asked what I thought of the translation. I said that while I could not quite discern it all, some had really upset me. They kept translating "in der Nähe" to "here" rather than "near". They'd caught that, too, and thought it crazy.
The second part was more comfortable temperature-wise. I absolutely hated the ending. Senta throws herself off a cliff to be truly "faithful unto death", even after the Dutchman released her from her vow, thinking she was unfaithful. (Well, here that was symbolized by her being tied up in ropes, that reminded me of the Cross.) After her death, he's basically human again and laughs in joy and heads out, without caring at all about this girl who paid the price to save him. I have since found out, that in the traditional ending, they ascend to heaven together. It's bad enough that her father basically sells the girl to the Dutchman, whose legend she's long been enamored with, but such a callous treatment of her at the end is ridiculous. It made me furious with Wagner, then, but I when I found out the truth, I directed my ire at the director.
The classicalreview.com had this:
David Alden once again imposed a peculiar vision on his first staging of the work. The confrontational director has said that he sees the Dutchman as an industrialist turning the world into a capitalist machine with his overseas profiteering, “like a nightmare of Elon Musk.” His Dutchman entered in the first act wearing an executive’s business suit (costumes by Constance Hoffmann), took a seat at a large desk, and rolled around absurdly in a desk chair.
The ghost ship’s crew became faceless corporate drones, played by robot-like supernumeraries. Even the women of the village, rather than spinning, worked in some sort of factory, costumed like yellow Minions (from the movie Despicable Me) and moving in ridiculous dance movements (choreography by Maxine Braham). The director’s political interference dulled the menace of the Dutchman and his zombie crew. It also robbed Senta’s sacrifice of its beauty, as she was left tangled in ropes, the staging oblivious to the apotheosis audible in the score’s final bars.
At about 11:10, we were back in the car. It was 11:50 ( 25654), when we reached the car.
My phone said that 8,786 steps yielded 3 miles and that I'd climbed one floor.
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