Holy Rollin': BOTS Invades Salvation Mountain

Salvation Mountain is Instagrammer's ecstasy.

A much-revered landmark for IG users, Salvation Mountain is a checklist destination perfectly prohibitive in its desert geography (close enough for social media sojourners to get there and back within a day, distant enough to give every picture pilgrim the appropriate amount of cool cred for making the otherwise desolate journey).  As evidenced by the thousands of carefully-filtered photos bearing the eponymous hashtag, Salvation Mountain is a place for disingenuous youth to affect the poses that have become so subconsciously familiar (those characterized by the subjects' well-studied stare as they regard the horizon with an expert combination of anguish and apathy).  A colorful, if slightly sun-blistered backdrop, Salvation Mountain's unqualified Judeo-Christian ethos can be tolerated in the name of post-ironic photo gathering.  A surefire "heart" magnet, Salvation Mountain elicits envy and scorn in equal measure.  In short, it is Instagram.  The veneer protecting my contempt for social media sociology may seem perilously thin, yet there we were excitedly making the trek to a destination every bit worthy of its celebrity.

Get a load of this!

Music and video by Mary

I refuse to insult anyone's intelligence by pretending that a profundity greater than the average mountain climber's motivated our visit.  Yes, the wacky tacky adventure team, in our quest to storm America's greatest trash castles, was there to document the divinely-inspired folk art of Leonard Knight...but not before procuring some ultra-hip photographic evidence of our own day trip.

Blazing our trail, we began to spitball a few ideas for heightening our experience at Salvation Mountain; as we flew past a discount store, I suggested that it might be fun to arrive in white sweatsuits and drugstore flip flops, giving the appearance of a cult pilgrimage.  Call it pretense, if you must, but I was looking for a way to add a layer of humor to our visit (after all, the ten sexiest Instagram poses lose something in translation when applied to a fat man on the cusp of middle age).  When the elusive white sweat suit became our proverbial white whale; we were forced to settle for the offerings of the paint aisle, leaving the hardware store in crisp, white coveralls and a trio of matching safety goggles.

Introducing BOTS (Brotherhood of Terrestrial Salvation)
Like a mess of meth-making Mike Teavees

Salvation Mountain is the lifework and ministry of Leonard Knight.  What started in the 1970s as a proselytizing mission via homemade hot air balloon (seriously) evolved into an '80s-era devotional of straw, clay, found objects, and countless coats of house paint.  It took two tries and many years for Knight to master his signature mountain-making technique; through it all, his faith, love, and generosity never wavered.  Expansion and maintenance of his passion project continued until his health began to fail in 2011.  In the years since his subsequent death, local volunteers have lovingly preserved Knight's masterpiece.

Love is all you need.  You may quote me.

This legacy of love is the true message of Salvation Mountain.  Christian and nonbeliever alike are reminded at every turn that the purpose of our existence is love.

Just in case anyone missed the literal writing on the wall,
these two BOTS brethren demonstrate how to get a heart on.

It was unclear whether other Knight devotees were feeling the love of the BOTS' presence.  Despite a woeful lack of purpose/planning on our part, many videos and photographs - surreptitious and otherwise - were taken as we silently marched our way up and over the mountain (with un-swinging arms for that authentic touch of cultish weirdness).

She's still wondering if the label on the coveralls was accurate - "One size saves all."

One confused Brit was brave enough to approach me and inquire after our presence; struggling for a clever response, I instead feigned a vow of silence, trying and failing to communicate with meaningless hand gestures.  When the BOTS did speak, it was a practice in improvisational call-and-response between Sister Siusiak's Polish and our semi-Slavic gibberish, punctuated liberally by the Polish slang for wiener.

Starting to question our own bizarre behavior, all we needed was to turn a corner for a loving affirmation.

Things reached a new pinnacle of strange when we formed a human triangle (facing inward with our hands on each other's shoulders) and began to vocalize in unison.  I'm willing to place a generous amount of accountability upon our choice of ensemble; with temperatures upwards of 110 degrees, the internal temperature of our space suits might very well have been delirium inducing.

You could say that we were getting carried away by the spirit of the Man Upstairs...

In the end, we couldn't decide if we were the lighthearted antidote to the hordes of picture pilgrims or ourselves symptomatic of the devolution of weird roadside in America.  As the conflict rages on, we are seriously considering making BOTS official.

We are mobilizing.

And Brother Cyrus says the reaping is nigh.

Resistance is futile.

If you don't want to get left behind, all you must do is "Jump in the Line."

"Jump in the Line" - Harry Belafonte (1961)
This video has been brought to you by Fartco, Inc.

Salvation Mountain

Beal Rd

Niland, CA

salvationmountain.us

Cheers and Amen!

Mr. Tiny
(Brother Diminutata)

Folk Art & Fantasy in the Land of Enchantment

On more than one occasion, I have used this platform to ponder on the differences between what is considered art and what is deemed craft.  Frankly, I'm not even sure that I know what separates folk art from fine art.  I mean, is it training or merely a matter of retrospection?  Exactly how many decades separate Uncle Max's matchstick picture frame (made during that stint in the state pen) from authentic American folk art?  And is it simply a matter of years before my Blue Bunny Baby riding a Dream-Sized Dream Pet transitions from "Crazy Crafty" critter to museum-worthy exhibit?

What me, arty?

The crown jewel of Santa Fe, New Mexico's Museum Hill is the Museum of International Folk Art.  The best part of the collection is the Girard Wing, the result of one man's lifelong infatuation with world art.  After our visit to the museum, I thought I was beginning to get a better handle on the answers to all of my nagging questions.

MUSEUM OF INTERNATIONAL FOLK ART

Folk art is dioramas.

Folk art is fully-hinged conjoined twins.

Folk art is castles.

Folk art is dolls (with pencil-thin mustasches that would make William Powell and Dali green with envy).

Folk art is dress-up.

The folk art museum was a revelatory experience.  Moving on almost immediately to Tinkertown, however, I found myself squarely back at square one.  Sure there were dolls and dioramas, but the folk art fantasy that is Tinkertown is so much more wonderfully folksy! 

TINKERTOWN MUSEUM

Tinkertown Museum (est. 1962) - Sandia Park, NM

Tinkertown has to be one of the best roadside, one-man, trash castle, folk art installations in all of central New Mexico.  Okay, maybe the world.  A breathtaking assemblage of desert debris, animated dioramas, vintage arcade novelties, hand-carved figurines, coin-operated vignettes, famed watercraft, and legitimate antiques, Tinkertown is a friendly "up yours" to the precious nature of curated museum collections.  There is so much to see that Tinkertown is borderline stimulation overload, but the bevy of bottle-glass walls and hand-painted signs keeps everything nice and orderly.

I've always been a fan of bad puns and dad jokes but
the older I get it, the deeper my affection grows. 

Fortunately, admission - even for a group of four  - was not cost prohibitive (less than $10 total, if memory serves).

I am a sucker for signs and bottle walls!!!

And he is a sucker for automated puppet bands!

The real heart of Tinkertown is its 60-foot-long, old west diorama.  At regular intervals, guests can push a button and parts of the diorama spring to life with automation!

The sets are unbelievably detailed, from the matte-painting backdrops to the menagerie of animal characters.

The carved figures are incredibly evocative.

Shadow boxes filled with odds and ends round out the dingbat collections.

The wild west diorama is a sight to behold but the state's "Largest Miniature Circus" was my favorite oxymoron in the joint!

The miniature circus diorama has everything - three rings, a circus wagon,
trapeze artists - but you will always find Mr. Tiny at the sideshow!

The whole experience was a "living art gallery," just like the Tattoed Lady!

"Snow White said, 'Send the prince back home!  I'm with the King!'"

Now normally, I loathe inspirational quotations; just because you write something down or publish a meme doesn't mean that you've captured the wisdom of the ages.  I can see that the founder of Tinkertown and I are obviously simpatico, as I was charmed by nearly every bit of hand-painted wisdom scattered throughout the museum grounds.

"Live life as the pursuit of happiness."

"Yet there are souless[sic] men who would destroy what time and man will never build again."
This one broke my heart.

"I get up every morning both determined to change the world and to have one hell
of a good time.  Sometimes this makes planning the day difficult." - E.B. White
Genius!

It probably sounds corny, but I am so glad to have taken this road trip with my nephew.  If he's anything like his uncle, he will have essentially zero recall of his life as a five-year-old boy.  Nevertheless, I know he will be a better, more interesting person for this exposure to the sane-yet-subversive world of weird roadside attractions and fantastic folk art.  I will be a better person for having him in my life!

This picture brings me so much joy! 

So, do you know what the difference is between crazy crafts, fine art, and folk art?  Wherever it lies, I know we'll never get bored on our hunt for the answer!  I'm just hoping that fine or folky, we're allowed to watch TV while we're creating our art!

"Toy Tinkers" (1949)

Museum of International Folk Art
706 Camino Lejo
Santa Fe, NM
(505)476-1200

internationalfolkart.org


Tinkertown Museum
121 Sandia Crest Rd
Sandia Park, NM
(505)281-5233

tinkertown.com


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Holy Rollin': "La Casa de Azúcar," The House of Sugar

Sometimes the most holy ground upon which one may tread is most wholly unconsecrated by the church - any church.  To wit, La Casa de Azúcar.  To stand witness at the grounds of  "House of Sugar" in El Paso, Texas is to be transported to a sacred place.

From the minute we rolled up, we were overcome by holy rollin'!!!

A tribute to faith and to the people of El Paso, La Casa de Azúcar is the creation of retired garment worker, Rufino Loya Rivas, who in 1973 began transforming his modest desert home into a folk art fantasy.  Styled after the traditional churches of his childhood village, La Casa de Azúcar also employs similar design elements to those found in Mexico's famous sugar skulls.  Elevating humble materials into a spectacle most sacrosanct, Rivas' "House of Sugar" is as ornate as any cathedral we've ever come across.  In fact, the extraordinarily-detailed craftsmanship makes it hard to believe that this is a private residence.

And yet there is the front entrance in all of its candy-coated splendor!

The stunning beauty of La Casa de Azúcar's intricate design is a challenge to capture in photos.  It kind of has to be seen to be believed; so just believe that I'm prepared to show you about one million photos, encouraging you to make the pilgrimage and go see it for yourself!

¡Bienvenido!  Welcome!

Highly decorated on nearly every inch of available space, Rivas' deft hand and understanding of balance has resulted in a sanctuary that is subdued, restrained, even reverent (when it could have so easily strayed into corny, Hansel & Gretel territory).

The symmetry and and use of color create a simultaneously dynamic and restful environment.

The only churchy-type architectural terms I remember from Art History 101
are "nave" and "apse," I'm sure neither of which apply here...I think.  The
well-placed altars/shrines(?), however, are breathtaking. 

The patience and care it would take to produce just one of these pillars would be
enough to scare any ordinary person away, let alone the tricolor paint scheme.

So many layers of texture and depth are achieved with the most accessible mediums (concrete, paint,brick, etc.) 

One pillar, five colors!

My road trip buddy and I kept repeating our mantra for the day, "Just
look, don't touch," as we tried to remember that this was someone's home.

Again, if there was any doubt that this was a tract home, the aerial evidence is on the roof

"Jesus said into[sic] her, 'I am the resurrection and the life.  He that believeth
in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and
believeth in me shall never die.  Believest thou this?'"

Each sign and every Bible passage at La Casa is
conveniently presented in both English and Spanish.

It's not just the hardscape that is so expertly preserved, the landscape is precisely cultivated as well.

I'm not up on all my saints, but I'm pretty sure this is one of the good ones.

Occupying the better part of an entire neighborhood block, the breadth of La Casa de Azúcar's displays is staggering.

According to locals, the full "sugar house" makeover was complete by the late '90s...but who are they kidding?!!  Giving new meaning to the words, "labor of love;" one look at the expansive beauty of La Casa de Azúcar is to realize that maintenance is a job never complete.

Luckily, they have La Virgen on their side!

My wacky tacky spirits are lifted by the serenity of La Casa de Azúcar.  And while the welfare of my eternal soul is in great question, I can yet find some earthly comfort in the faith, dedication, and artistry of a man on a makeover mission.  If his "House of Sugar" is not registered as a sacred site of the Catholic Church or at the very least an historic landmark, then it darn well ought to be.

This placard, placed unceremoniously in the back alley leads me to believe
that, as of now, La Casa de Azúcar's historic status is rather on the unofficial side.

Don't be scared away by our "Holy Rollin'" adventures; we are certainly not in the business of Bible-thumping.  For we probably feel even closer to the Divine in a sunburnt, El Paso housing tract than we might in the peace of a quiet chapel.  Smitten with one man's mission to honor his beliefs, his geography, and his wacky tacky artistry, I can say that, "Out in the West Texas town of El Paso, I fell in love with a Mexican [house]."  I feel a song coming on.

"El Paso" - Marty Robbins

La Casa de Azúcar
4301 Leavell Ave
El Paso, TX

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny