When Frederick Prescott first came to Santa Fe 30 years ago, he fell in love. “I’d heard about Santa Fe, but I didn’t know what it was,” the Bay Area native says. A day and a half in our town, and Prescott was “mesmerized.”
'Tis the ghoulish season when ladies get to dress up as a slutty version of Marvin the Martian (yes, really) or a whorish just about everything else, and men get to cover down to the ankles and gawk away.
The art in Arthur Lopez’ living room alone could rival that of any museum. A sea of crucifixes hangs throughout, and wood carvings depicting every imaginable saint’s passion are propped atop all available surfaces.
Once a month, Steve White makes the trek from his Albuquerque studio to
East Palace Avenue’s Todos Santos Chocolates & Confections, his
highest-volume retailer, to unload his latest batch of “outsider art.”
We met in a sitting area near the elevators on the second floor of the
Eldorado Hotel. Writer/director Emmett Mckinley requested I not ask
questions about his sons. Having no idea what he was referring to, I
Japanese-born artist Ai Krasner gives the term “plastic arts” a whole new meaning. Her latest solo endeavor, Plastic Garden, consists of colorful and thought-provoking pieces composed exclusively by the ubiquitous material.
Asked what it was like to be a photojournalist for LIFE magazine during
its 1960s heyday, Bob Gomel does not hesitate to answer. “It was the
mecca,” he says with a combination of excitement and nostalgia.
Helen and Charlie Sharpe are used to gawks, the sound of tires screeching and strangers constantly knocking at their door. The reason? Their picturesque garden—chock-full of statues, sanctuaries and figurines.
One glance at 55-year-old Kenneth Bennett, and it’s not hard to tell that he’s led a rough life. He’s sitting at a table outside Ecco Espresso & Gelato, meticulously carving a wood figurine, cedar chips landing on his long, scraggly beard.