A Big, Smiling, Crying Thank-You!

Dear colleagues,

It's been such a pleasure to work with each and every one of you over the past seven-plus months. You have all been consistently kind, welcoming, encouraging, and instructive throughout my time with the Museum. I've learned all about the good, bad, and ugly of the museum/nonprofit/public-private partnership world, and am far more strongly equipped for the future because of it.

At the beginning of the summer, I had a choice between two arts-related internships. Needless to say, I am absolutely positive that I chose the correct one. All of the museum staff has been responsive to my needs, and persistent in pushing my growth in the organization. My time has left me with a thorough introduction to all that museum work entails--from first ideas and research to an exhibition's opening day.

My direct supervisor, Dana, has consistently asked me about the good and bad of my work, and has provided me with an extensive variety of tasks to illustrate all parts of the work in curation. She has always been extremely kind and has, if nothing else, taught me the importance of systems and organization in establishing an efficient means of putting together a show. Above her, Emily and Claire have been excellent creative voices for the museum and for my ears, always welcoming me in every way possible, and exposing me to a vast array of art in all media, ensuring I stay engaged with the work I was performing. Tania, above all, has been a light in the office. While I didn't perform many tasks for her (much of her work is off-site), it was always a pleasure walking in in the morning to see her sitting in her (newly-Will-Bruder-ized!) cubicle. Laura and Pat were excellent, thoughtful leaders in the installation team, utilizing what skills I already had, and encouraging the growth of new ones at every turn. I can't wait to come back and work for you two for real! And that doesn't even include Lesley, Tim, Christie, Rivance, (other) Laura, and the numerous others in SMoCA and the Cultural Council at large who have given me so many opportunities for growth.

While I am very sad to not be working directly with each of you anymore, I could not be more grateful for this time, or more excited to begin my work with Laura and Pat as a real, live assistant preparator in January! Thank you each so much for trusting me and believing in me.

-Connor

Lessons Learned

Well that was quick. Just a few months ago, I was embarking upon a new semester, ready to tackle the second phase of my internship at Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art. Clichéd as it may be to say, it's all true. While I'm ready to move on, it's strange to know that I won't be doing the same duties each week with the excellent staff under whom I've been learning for the past seven-plus months.

On the subject of learning, I finally was able to understand all of the inner-workings of a moderately-sized nonprofit (one that even has to extensively work with city government), and the incredibly complex process that produces some of the best art exhibitions I have ever seen. More specifically, I learned about the particular practices of artistic research, the contracting and archiving process, and the installation process. With regard to installation, I finally saw how site-specific art works are put together. Spoiler: it's really hard, turns out differently ever time, involves a lot of trial-and-error, and requires tons of creativity to get done. BUT, it's always worth it. Also, as with every internship and job I've had previously, I learned about professional workplace dynamics. What was different this time? This time, I actually sat at a desk for entire days! While there was certainly hands-on and other unique work, it was honestly the first time I saw how an actual, (semi-) traditional office is made up. At times exciting, at times mundane, but always something I am glad to have experienced.

When looking back at my initial goals for this internship, I am proud to say that I have a deliverable outcome for each!

1. Better understand how to create a cohesive show of art work
I'm co-curating a group art show at my workplace (gallery Modified Arts) that opens this month! Also, I feel quite prepared for future work in a museum setting.
2. Gain practical skills to complement my creative ones in working at the intersection of art and urbanism (my true twin passions)
Here, while I failed in my first attempt, I will be reapplying for a grant from the Arizona Humanities Council to fund a documentation project (inclusive of writing, researching, and curating a photo exhibition) of historic properties along the light rail. While this iron was already in the fire when I started, I feel far more prepared for action this time around.
3.  Build relationships into which I might one day build a career.
I got a job! While not in curatorial, I am now an assistant preparator for the Museum, beginning in January. Cool stuff!

A pretty successful semester, in my estimation.

What is "Cool?"

As I was writing the final blog post for this batch, I got distracted, as I often do. This time, it was the cover story from this week's New Times, entitled "The Cool Index: Ten Years Later, Phoenix Is Still Hot. But Is It Finally Cool?" It's a followup on an article written ten years ago about the then-burgeoning downtown Phoenix arts scene, buoyed by a few hardscrabble creative entrepreneurs. The article aims to reexamine those folks a decade onward, reflecting on whether Phoenix is finally "Cool."

I understand the Creative Class. I understand entrepreneurship. I understand social geography. I understand gentrification. And I understand exactly the kind of capital in which the New Times traffics.

This article, like so many others, aims to cast judgment upon the conservative, podunk town that, oh, I don't know, birthed the New Times itself and allowed it to grow into the national "alt"-weekly conglomerate it is. The one that bought the freaking Village Voice--the grandfather of the alt-weekly medium of journalism.

Yeah, it's pretty much the objective of every major New Times article to exert some sort of holier-than-thou assessment of a given concert, politician, creative movement, et al. But this time, it's different. Lo and behold, it's a positive article about the growth of the city! But here's the thing a hip, creative-class publication will never get about this city: it's not all about the "creativity" of these folks and the dozens of unusual projects they're taking on at any given time.

The things the article neglects to mention in its glossy overview are the exact reasons why I am in Phoenix. The exact reasons why I've connected with the very people being mentioned in the article. We're in Phoenix because it's hard. We're in Phoenix because we're trying to build a better place. For (most of) us, it's not about creating the next Portland or Seattle. It's about creating an inclusive place, one that celebrates its LGBTQIA community, one that celebrates its Latin residents and welcomes future ones, one that has affordable housing options, one that repurposes blight and makes it something beautiful.

I found a glimmer of hope in the words of Beatrice Moore, the so-called "grande dame" of the funky thoroughfare of Grand Avenue. She cringes every time at the use of the word "cool." While ever a believer in hard work and beautification and livability, she doesn't want anyone to feel unwelcome--except those who seek to scrub out the very grubby charm of her neighborhood.

The unglamorous parts that the New Times forgets to mention are the parts that make up the everyday lives of those they champion in the article: the zoning meetings, the protests, the countless dollars and hours, the grants written, the applications, the fundraisers, the painting, the drywall.

It's THAT can-do spirit that keeps me here, and THAT pride that keeps these people believing in Phoenix.

Career Services Webinar--A Digital Portfolio

For my second Career Services event, I chose to listen in on the webinar offered on creating a digital portfolio. While I have always taken care of my online presence and in particular my resumé, this presentation offered me a new perspective in bringing my work online, translating it into a truly living documentation of my accomplishments. Most importantly, I saw how to put together a website which allows prospective employers to cycle quickly through my entire body of work.

My portfolio includes everything from photography to news articles to editorials to panel discussion moderation to research papers to policy papers to curation to art installation. Therefore, in order to even give my work some semblance of order requires a truly multimedia platform. Through the webinar, I came to understand how best to market myself in order to promote a variety of skills and bodies of work. Especially as I end my internship at a contemporary art museum and my work at student-news publication, I must be certain to properly document the work I performed at each business. In order to ensure such jobs were worth my time, I need to use them to my advantage in pursuing future endeavors.

Farewells

Today I moderated my final Downtown Devil Discussion. Begun the Fall of my freshman year, this panel discussion series has been highly formative for me as a student, downtown Phoenix resident, and burgeoning member of the community.

The first DDD was arguably my first downtown-centric public event. I was invited by my RCSL at the time, Dustin Volz, who was attempting to woo me into joining Downtown Devil, the student-run news publication he and a few others had founded to serve the downtown Phoenix community and its then-new student population. He knew I had a keen interest in downtown Phoenix, and thought I would find it of interest.

Fast-forward a few months and I was co-writing an Innovation Challenge proposal with Dustin and a few others to fund an extension of the Discussion series in the form of a magazine (unsuccessful). Fast-forward again and I was the Director of Community Initiatives for the Downtown Devil. Fast-forward yet again and I was moderating the very Discussion I had been invited to attend one year earlier. And now, after three semesters at the helm of the event, I have given up my role to focus on my thesis, and the many other jobs I have gained in the meantime.

The Downtown Devil Discussions were created as an extension of an innovative hyper-local news publication, aiming to keep its finger on the pulse of downtown Phoenix as it grew and evolved. From attending, moderating, organizing, and promoting these events, I created a niche for myself  and the publication in the community--bringing together diverse interests to discuss critical issues facing the area. Over the semesters the events have covered ASU/community interactions, small-businesses and entrepreneurship, transportation, sustainability, arts and culture, gentrification, and much more. And (if I may brag), I still haven't seen an event like it in town.

While I am sad to step down from the organization, it is a pleasure to have helped birth something which truly has contributed to the city I love so much.

Organizational Strengths

Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art's structure is unique, to say the least. It exists as a nonprofit organization, one of three branches of the Scottsdale Cultural Council, which itself was created as a nonprofit to administer arts and culture in the city of Scottsdale by the city government.

The (minimal) government funding does provide the organization with some amount of stability. But it certainly doesn't hurt that the museum and its sister organizations are identified with arguably Phoenix's wealthiest suburb. While delegation of responsibilities does help the SMoCA to focus on itself at times, it does lead to bureaucratic difficulties, especially when pursuing an exhibition or performance that might be considered "controversial."

To be clear, SMoCA itself has an excellent, kind, welcoming, intelligent, and dynamic staff. However, as a program of the Cultural Council, this means all its smaller decisions are subject to bigger scrutiny. This has been especially true in recent years as the Cultural Council has gone through a handful of different Presidents/CEOs, making that kind of stability difficult to achieve. Therefore, frustrations with this upper management are not uncommon.

Managing such a dynamic museum is a difficult proposition. As with any public/private partnership, some things get lost in translation, and I have seen this happen several times as both an outside observer and intern at the museum. So, while I could note that I would prefer the museum be an independent entity, the kinds of partnerships which have occurred between branches of the Scottsdale Cultural Council (see: Canal Convergence, This is a Present From a Small Distant World, etc.), the pros far outweigh the cons.

Building a Network

If I have learned anything from my nearly 2.5 years in college, it's all about making connections. From my first classroom guest speaker to the present, I always make a point to show my interest to those with which I come into contact.

Through simple personal contacts and without formal applications, I have been offered opportunities for grantwriting, blogging, panel moderation, conference speaking, internships, arts magazine writing, gallery curation, concert booking, and much, much more. Truly, the thing I have found most vital is showing people that you care, and can do whatever is thrown at you.

Ever since I first E-mailed the IceHouse to ask about volunteering at the landmark, ever-endangered art space, I have taken the opportunity to introduce myself those whose work I found interesting, or with whom I might have something in common. Serendipity becomes quite easy when you are willing to talk. It seems like every week I am asked by someone new to participate in a new project, or recommend a friend for a new venture. The best part: it isn't about shmoozing.

While most people see this kind of networking as self-aggrandizing, I find my work to be truly invigorating. When you actually care about the causes and work that you are pursuing, people see that passion and look to ignite it into real and substantive action. What begins as a big, menacing city becomes a close circle of people with the same, mutually-beneficial goals at heart. Within my own network, I have found dozens of people eager to build a sustainable, dense, creative community of their own, rather than importing someone else's culture, or worse yet, simply moving away to find a culture that already exists.

I care about the work that I do. Though it is at times exhausting and seemingly endless, there is never a moment when I regret talking to someone new and opening up a new door of opportunity.

Contemporary Art as Public Service

Though many struggle to find the purpose of much contemporary art, Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art takes its mission as a truly-public, educational facility to heart in its every activity. Run as a public/private partnership under the Scottsdale Cultural Council, SMoCA offers an enormous array of programming to meet the needs of the diverse community it serves in the Valley.

Firstly, the Museum offers free admission every Thursday, and participates in the citywide weekly artwalk, making itself a constantly-available cultural resource, rather than existent only in a silo. Complimentary entry is also offered to attendees of the numerous annual festivals that take place in the adjacent Civic Center plaza. In these instances, SMoCA removes itself from the perceived ivory tower, and places itself on the level of all people with the ability to reach its doorstep.

In addition to free entry, SMoCA offers tours throughout each month directed to seniors and youth, respectively, making sure diverse demographics are able to see and understand the art on display at the museum. Events like this season's poetry and bike-art workshops specifically offer teens the opportunity to engage in artistic practice modeled after and in response to exhibits currently on display. Year-round, the Visions program visits high schools across the Valley to give teens the ability to create multimedia art, with the potential to have it displayed in the museum's student gallery, located inside the Scottsdale Center for the Performing Arts, next door to the museum.

Lastly, SMoCA offers programming diverse in both media and presentation, ensuring that all people can engage and find something valuable in the work they display. Video installations and sound pieces fill one room, while whimsical sculptures and drawings take over another; minimalist paintings and contemporary portraits take the wall in a single line, while looking-glasses peer into the wall in the next room.

While many view art (and especially contemporary art) as superfluous or non-essential, SMoCA emphatically makes the case for the opposite to be true.

The Music of My Youth?

In connection with my recent trip to The Fest in Florida, I began to ruminate on why so few people are interested in attending such an immense, dynamic event. What it always seems to come down to is this (false) perception: punk is for the kids.

It seems everyone and their mother goes through a "punk" phase in one form or another. Whether it be Ramones or Simple Plan or NoFX, everybody seems to dip their toe in the water, before rapidly removing it by high school or college, only to look back nostalgically and scoff at their perceived immaturity.

The truth about punk though, is much more dynamic. In listening to punk and its many iterations over the past 13 years of my life, I can say that this seemingly simple music of rebellion has more to say than most other forms of music combined. Inclusive of the poppy hooks of Lemuria, the focused aggression of Paint It Black, and the sheer technicality of A Wilhelm Scream, punk can mean a lot of things to a lot of people.

Generally, definitions include a certain do-it-yourself attitude, an eschewing of the mainstream (whatever that means to the given listener), and a bit of crunch, edge, or rawness to the music itself. Founded as the music of pure rebellion, punk has certainly evolved over its now-lengthy lifespan. If one is willing to truly listen closely, punk artists offer humorous spit-takes, complex rhythms, excellent energy, and some of the most biting political, social, and philosophical critiques in classic or modern music. Kids music? Far from it.

While misunderstood youngsters might be attracted to the nasally whine of pop-punk made by the Menzingers, older, more aggressive ones may find release in the power of hardcore like White Lung. And older, more thoughtful folks will keep the spirit of their youth alive alongside nostalgic ruminations from Restorations and Gaslight Anthem.

For those willing to give it a chance, punk isn't the sole affection of scruffy, smelly, mohawked youth. Instead, it can also be the music of social change, and the stuff of dissertations.*

*Thanks to Greg Graffin of Bad Religion for making that statement true.

FEST 12

This past weekend, I attended The Fest. Simple, even dumb, name. Simple, even dumb, concept. Far from a simple experience.

Over 400 bands performing at 15 venues over four days, taking over the entirety of downtown Gainesville, Florida. A little overwhelming in reality? You could say so.

For the relatively small community of folks who purchase their records from the Gainesville label No Idea and read the snark of Punknews.org, this annual festival is Christmas, New Year's, a birthday, and more, all in one. Only roughly 4-5,000 folks attend, but for those who do, it's the greatest number of like-minded people any attendee is apt to see in his or her lifetime. Punk bands appear at every turn, and so-called "punk celebrities" mingle around every corner, as fans and bands both new and old mingle together on a fully-leveled playing field, taking pride in the ramshackle community they have built together over the past 12 years.

I went into the Fest never having been to a multi-day music festival, and knew going in that pacing myself would be paramount to ensuring my enjoyment of each and every band I wanted to see. While the whole "not feeling terrible at the end of it all" thing didn't quite work out in the end, I still was able to see over 40 bands across the four days, traversing seven different venues and innumerable drunkards along the way.

While debauchery was certainly present, Fest as a whole has a certain sacred air around it, as everyone seems to innately know that the event is something truly special, something that cannot afford to be ruined. Therefore, any time things nearly got out of hand, a cooler head would intervene and make certain that no one was permanently hurt, nor would the experience of all be kept from greatness.

Among the best sets of the weekend: J Robbins acoustic best-of, Restorations, Toby Foster/Ginger Alford/Eric Ayotte mega-set, Hop Along, Fake Problems, The Lawrence Arms, The Menzingers, Lemuria, RVIVR. Check them each out, and you might find something new!

On Leadership

In the small-staff world of nonprofits, especially in the arts world, leadership is absolutely vital to function, much less ongoing success. In general, at SMoCA there are no more than two people in charge of a given area, and it is up to them to develop an entire program, from conception to execution, with minimal support or guidance from others in the organization. This is not to say that people do not work together, but in order for tasks to be completed, each person must be able to take on an entire array of tasks in order for that area of programming and execution to be effective.

As an intern, I often absorb tasks from a variety of these groups, as it is easier for me to bounce between jobs since I am present to learn and take on what others many times do not have time for. In my position, leadership takes a different form, and often I must simply be ready for anything at any given time. Leadership means being adaptable and flexible, and a quick learner. One second I am recommending publications to which we might submit our latest, innovative exhibition, and the next I am assembling a powerpoint presentation to be shown at the next exhibitions meeting by the show's curator. If I can anticipate or expand a task's reach when I execute it, all the better going forward.

An internship is most frequently about proving oneself, and learning a diverse array of tasks to prepare for an eventual career, ideally in the area in which you are interning. At SMoCA, I am learning to demonstrate leadership in a variety of often-unexpected ways, and am observing it in spades among my supervisors and co-workers.

Art--Its Many Disciplines

This past weekend, I experienced a truly transcendent, multi-faceted performance piece taking place in a most unlikely place: the ASU Deer Valley Rock Art Center. The performance was called Desierto Remix, and served to bring together the performance groups Nemcatacoa from Bogotá, Colombia, and Verbobala from Tucson, Arizona thanks to the organizational efforts of Mary Stephens and Casandra Hernandez under the purview of their series, Performance in the Borderlands. The former group had been on tour in the United States for six months, and works primarily in the medium of dance, with a focus on stiltwalking (yes, you read that correctly). The latter creates multimedia performances blending spoken word, postmodern dance, video, sound, and sculptural elements. And it all took place among an archaeological landmark.

The performance began just before sunset, with the near-silent emergence of two figures in dresses, entirely white, walking ever-so-slowly out of the desert, and the museum's entrance, respectively. Each held a small bell, tinkling lightly, and an umbrella, and each refused to acknowledge the surrounding audience, and moved unchallenged around the building's parking lot before standing stock still  on either side of the aforementioned Stephens and Hernandez, who spoke to introduce the evening's program.

Then, the true evening began. Ten performers, each entirely white accentuated with black face makeup, emerged in a procession from the museum's entrance. Three played flutes, one bore a staff, and five walked on the group's trademark stilts. What followed was a procession through the museum and along a path into the desert. Over 200 attendees followed the performers wherever they led, occasionally stopping for a more set element of the show. At times the pace was a gallop, and others a crawl. But without question, the performance was an immersive one. This portion of the program culminated at a dry creek bed, covered in large rocks. While one member of the troupe stood on the railing of the bridge spanning the bed and another stood at the other side, the five stilt walkers stood stock-still at the edge of the creek. Suddenly, they collapsed, and crawled across the entire span of the creek, emerging at the other end and leading the stunned crowd directly into Verbobala's performance in the parking lot.

While the Verbobala set was equally thoughtful and dynamic in many ways, nothing could match the sheer disbelief with which the audience waited for the next move of Nemcatacoa. It is something I certainly will not see again soon.

Supervisor Spotlight

My most direct supervisor, Dana, is the Curatorial Coordinator for the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art (SMoCA). On a day-to-day basis, she manages all the moving parts that make a museum exhibition happen. This includes everything from coordinating with lending institutions and artists, planning travel itineraries, and meeting with everyone from the development staff to installation staff to make certain that all deadlines are reached, the exhibition is promoted well, and everything stays within budget.

The thing which dominates her daily work is organization, which works well with her personality style and work needs. Since taking on her position, Dana has instituted a number of vital tweaks to the system by which exhibitions are organized, including a number of checklists, and much more constant communication at all levels of the museum to see that everyone's needs are being met.

Dana's education came from ASU in fine art photography, and during her time pursuing her undergraduate degree, she interned at SMoCA in the very same position where I currently am. Overall, this has given her a very unique perspective on how to manage my own internship and that of my fellow interns. I have felt over my time that this has led her to be much more deliberate in laying out tasks for me to complete, so that I may understand all of the facets of curatorial work in the museum world. In the interim though between her undergraduate studies and working at SMoCA, Dana spent time as a photography teacher at Metro Arts, an arts-focused charter school in central Phoenix. There, she exercised her more traditional photography skills, but here is more able to utilize her general skillset for coordination and management, while still working in the arts. This path speaks to me, as while I do have a particular interest in one area (public policy/urban planning), I can use those skills in another arena, even one related to the arts. As demonstrated by her career path, oftentimes it is not your specific education that leads you to your eventual career, but the contacts you make along the way, and the skills which you develop.

Seeing the many contacts Dana must maintain in order to fulfill her job description is, honestly, at times a bit frightening for me to observe. However, seeing her in action makes me feel that such a position is something I could definitely do in my future.

Incidental Art

I am truly fascinated by the world's quirks. A miscolored panel. A hole in the wall. A toppled sign. A left behind doll.

In observing the happy accidents around me, I find that the things least intended to be art are the most artistic. It's why I keep my window open year-round (except for summer), if only to catch a whisper of something profound ascending the nine floors up to my window. It's why I so love the sounds of musique concrete and tape manipulation, the seeming human calculation in the aural landscape of the world around us.

More and more lately, I have been attempting to take in things as they decay (by accident) and are deconstructed (on purpose). One such occasion recently came when I was taking down vinyl lettering from the walls of my internship. When scraping a wall for an hour on end, one must find little ways to entertain oneself. After observing a co-worker's half-finished wall, I was quick to note the poeticism in his deconstructed title wall and accompanying description. Then, when taking utility knife to my own wall, I decided to stretch my creativity. Deliberately choosing each word I removed, I was able to form incidental poetry, only existent for moments each, but allowing me the chance to indulge constantly in creative practice.

I hope  to share that observance and effort with those around me. Take only a few more minutes to indulge in the tasks you create, and the streets you walk. You will be most overwhelmingly rewarded.

"Tree of Codes" by Jonathan Safran Foer

Photo by Flickr user Heather Quintal

A Whirlwind

Today was a bit of a confusing one. With the "government shutdown" taking place, I felt as though I hit a breaking point. While I am generally outspoken about my political, religious, and social views, I have always prided myself on striking a balance between what I believe and gratefully acknowledging that I very well may be wrong about everything I hold dear. In this case, however, I saw a broken system, and immediately knew who was to blame.

Based on the article's in the rest of the world's press, they knew it too. When one group didn't get its way in passing a law, it meant a push for anarchy, where we are currently headed. In the past, I had always thought there was no chance people would actually move to shut down the government over a political decision. But lo and behold, today it happened.

Regardless of particular "issues" one might have with the Affordable Care Act, when something has been upheld by the Supreme Court and its main supporter reelected, that should be a pretty clear sign of its permanence. Throwing a tantrum and refusing to work with others as a result, is no way to conduct yourself as a representative of the most powerful nation in the world.

Letting down thousands upon thousands of everyday workers, and hundreds of millions of fellow citizens is a tough pill to swallow.

The ASU Tempe Career Fair

In my personal experience, the best connections and opportunities come from personal interactions, and showcasing your talents in an experiential way. By attending public meetings, organizing events, writing stories, hosting discussions, and volunteering far and wide, I have built a sizable network for myself in the greater Phoenix area in community development, entrepreneurship and local business, historic preservation, sustainability, art, music, and museums. These kinds of skills and connections are project-based, and come through lasting relationships with my peers and mentors in the community.

As you might imagine based on the above description, career fairs generally aren't the friendliest in my experience to those looking to work outside of traditional corporations. Few nonprofits work at them, and even fewer offer any stimulating opportunities for growth. While I have gained a lot from working with advisors and instructors to (again) directly connect me with leaders in my fields of interest, I have yet to find any opportunities in a building flooded with people all clamoring for the same brand of attention. And so I begrudgingly headed to Tempe for this semester's biggest career fair.

Upon arriving, I saw pretty much what I had anticipated: a lot of tech firms, a lot of engineers, a lot of health majors, and a lot of opportunities to work in "marketing" and "development." I took a few loops around the two ballrooms which contained the event, looking high and low for a nonprofit which might offer me a personally fulfilling opportunity. The first trip was lifeless, but upon a closer look at the guidebook I picked up, I found something different: City Year.

Earlier this year, my friend decided to take a year off from her studies to participate in City Year, a program designed to get young adults involved in schools through tutoring and other supplemental education efforts. She went to Seattle, where she currently resides, and is living the dream while engaging critically with marginalized students so that they may gain the skills they need for the future. So needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised to see them right in front of my nose.

I talked for about 15 minutes with the program's representative, and learned quite a bit about the application and selection processes, giving me great hope about my plans for after graduation. In particular, I was excited to learn of an option that didn't mean immediate long-term employment, nor immediate entrance into graduate school. Instead of the overwhelming instruction of Teach for America (to which City Year is a feeder program), I would be able to work with students on a more intimate level, and find the particular gaps in their educational experience to produce substantive change.

Walking away, I felt quite satisfied, and ultimately glad that I gave the career fair a chance. Sometimes good things hit you in unexpected places.

The City and Serendipity

This past Friday, I experienced yet again why I am called to be in Phoenix. Many people tend to feel directionless and uncertain of the particular location in which they dwell. As I've expressed in my past few blog entries, it's pretty clear that I do not feel that way.

Early in the evening, I headed to my friend's apartment, where we shared bowls of Indian food together, complete with naan, rice, beans, yellow curry, tofu, and a side of heirloom tomatoes topped with oil and some sprinkled cheese. It was delicious and filling, and we each had a glass of red wine to cap the variety of tastes in the meal. Everyone else was too tired to go out, but I had promised my friend JRC that I would head to his venue, The Trunk Space, to check out a benefit show featuring some local bands I enjoy.

As I biked over to the venue, I mused about how I was a little tired, and really only wanted to see one of the performers, the secretive Daryl Scherrer. Scherrer rarely plays out anymore in Phoenix, but I've managed to find copies of each of his cardboard-bound CDs hidden in the racks of the Trunk Space's music section. The singer-songwriter croaks out dark, dirty folk and country-tinged songs, speaking with experience of a hard life in the world.

Upon arriving at the venue, I came upon two unexpected sights for the venue I loved and attended so much: an early arriving crowd, and one mostly aged 65+. The show was a benefit for Gina's Team, "an all Volunteer organization dedicated to bringing community leaders, speakers and educators into prisons to teach Life Skills." I suppose the charity group itself helped explain the crowd?

As the first group took the stage, the vast majority of the audience remained in the back, their din lessening not in the slightest to accommodate the haphazard folk music of Wayward Horses, who meekly played roughly three songs (with several stops and starts along the way) before retiring to load in arguably the most-traveled group of the night, Trunk Space heroes Dogbreth. 

Dogbreth drove out the elderly folks with its rollicking pop-punk sound, reeling the few younger attendees to the front to bounce around jovially through their set. A fun-filled set to be sure, and a needed reminder that there are just certain groups I can never see too many times.

Finally, it came time for Mr. Scherrer to take the stage. His large, tuneful black electric guitar perfectly accented his rough, rattled vocals as he tread through the first few songs of his set. Then, something quite unexpected happened. 

The front door to the venue opened, and in stepped ten women, all carrying instruments, all in matching outfits: Mariachi Pasion, Arizona's premier female mariachi group, and the first such group to ever perform at the Trunk Space (a rare occurrence considering the myriad performances which take place at the venue). Following a rousing eight-song set, replete with gringo covers, the show came to a close, and my friend and I were gifted a pie from our friends Liam and Dana, who were selling on behalf of their shop, Bragg's Factory Diner, to help fundraise through the evening. We then proceeded to chat with Steph, the other owner of the venue and a handful of other "regulars," before walking home along Grand Avenue.

Along the way, we were called to from behind. It was our dear friend, Aaron from our favorite book shop, Lawn Gnome. As it turned out, he had been driving to the shop to write a poem for his mother-in-law's memorial service the next day. He had been out of town all week, tending to his wife and budding family. We offered him a piece of pie, which he gratefully ate.

And so we chatted. About the city. About the show. About the pie. Anything to get his mind off the past week. Along the way, another passing fellow took a slice from our tin. 

All this along Phoenix's famed diagonal at 11pm on a Saturday night. Just the kind of strange connection this city breeds.

And for that, I couldn't be more grateful.

A Day In the Life....

Currently, my internship consists of putting up the latest exhibition at Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art, opening this Saturday. Entitled "Narrow Road to the Interior," the mixed media show represents a small array of Japanese artists dedicated to the continued task of zen observance and a meditative state.

On most recent days, I have resigned myself to more simple work: cleaning the floors, scraping and painting, sweeping. But in the midst of a handful of the artists themselves, working diligently at their own installation, and among the several already-in-place prints and minimalist sculptures, I too am at peace.

Performing more physical work is very different for me as a college student generally more inclined toward research and writing. However, it is a change with which I am most pleased. For eight straight hours, I am able to forget everything else, and simply focus on the tasks at hand, making small talk with my fellow art preparators. Though sometimes the work feels trivial, I take a step back and look at the incredible bits of creativity that I am working amidst, and I again am grateful.

Godspeed You! Black Emperor

Last night, I did what most people would consider a bad decision: I went to Tucson for a concert on a Monday.

I had worked all day at my internship. I had bought tickets five months earlier. I was going in a three-car caravan through the night. We stayed and got coffee afterward, and didn't start driving home till nearly 1am. When I got back home, I had to drive to a 24-hour Kinko's and Walgreens to get stuff for work mailings. I only got two hours of sleep. Sounds like a bad time, not worth it maybe? Good one.

Godspeed You! Black Emperor (GY!BE)  is one of my "holy grails." A band long broken-up by the time I discovered them, thought to never reunite. But, lo, they did.

What began with a roughly 15-minute, ever-growing bass drone threatening to rattle my friends and I's clenched (skinny) fists into a million pieces ended in a slowly-fading drone only drowned out by the exiting crowd but never fully leaving the audience's ears. In between were two hours of pure disbelief and blinding sound 

As many as three manipulated guitars, at times grated upon by screwdrivers. As many as two bass guitars, struck violently. Two drum sets pushing forth at a punishing pace. A squealing violin at times providing white noise, but other times singing sweetly to the baited crowd. A background lit by a rotation of four 16mm film projectors being manipulated live as we watched, alternating between mysterious loops and grayscale television static.

I cannot, and likely will not, be able to comprehend the most punishing, visceral two hours of music of my lifetime. And I am completely content.

Getting to Where You Want To Be

Ever since I began my involvement in the downtown Phoenix community, I've been continually amazed. It seems like every week, I am meeting another person I look up to. Whether it be an artist, shop owner, developer, musician, or writer, I am constantly presented with new connections whose names I always used to look at longingly. And yes, I know, this is just Phoenix. It's a relatively small pond. But please, let me explain. My heroes have always been a bit left-of-center.

When I was 13, I started to read about this mystical place called downtown Phoenix. There were art galleries, there were music venues, there were restaurants, there were coffee shops. And not one of them was in a new building? What? I had to know more.

So, I began reading, as I so often do. Combing through old New Times articles, picking up zines and fliers around town, reading blogs, generally getting a portrait of what was going on. I familiarized myself with enough names, places, and events be a bit if a roving encyclopedia for friends I brought to this newly-discovered oasis. When I finally arrived downtown for college, I knew all I could, and was ready to hit the ground running.

Since then, I've worked at art galleries, moderated panel discussions, written grants, setup and torn down festivals, planted and harvested a field of sunflowers, worked concerts, and everything in-between. And every time, I'm in awe. It's a great life, and I am grateful every day for it.

Everything really hit me about this city when the below photo was taken. Two people whose work I had read for years offered me their blog, Vanishing Phoenix, of which I had been a reader for quite some time. A small gesture, yes, but it still felt nice to know that I was trusted.

Getting Started

For my internship, I will be working with the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art, splitting time between the curatorial and installation departments.

 SMoCA, as it is also known, is part of the Scottsdale Cultural Council, a nonprofit contracted by the City of Scottsdale to administer arts and cultural programs in the City. The Cultural Council manages two other departments along with SMoCA: Scottsdale Public Art and Scottsdale Center for the Performing Arts. The Museum has three seasons of exhibitions, and puts together two to three shows for each season. As the name implies, it exhibits exclusively contemporary art, from the 20th and 21st centuries. All media are represented, and exhibitions can massively range, even during the same season; our current season includes a mix of installation, printmaking, painting, and sound, and past seasons have included a commissioned modern classical piece of music.

 For my own personal work, on the curatorial side I am working on a variety of projects. Most importantly, I am compiling a database of museums and art institutes around the country to which we may send our most recent publication: a vinyl record also acting as an exhibition guide for “This Is a Present from A Small Distant World.” On the A-side is a performance of the piece commissioned specifically for the exhibition ("In Teaching Others We Teach Ourselves") by composer Judd Greenstein and performed by violist Nadia Sirota. The B-side then features an exclusive remix of the track by producer and songwriter Son Lux (aka Ryan Lott). According to those in the curatorial department, it is the first publication of its kind in the museum world.

On the side of installation, we are currently putting together three all-new exhibitions for the Fall season. Thus far, I have taken down the old show and shipped it, and painted the new rooms for the exhibitions. In the coming weeks, we are going to be continuing to place all the art. Most excitingly for me, we will be assembling a series of sound installations alongside the artist Julianne Swartz, entitled “How Deep Is Your.” 

Thus far, my work has been extremely fulfilling, and I can’t wait to see what’s next!

Welcome To America neé Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art

Hello, Blogger world! I am Connor Descheemaker, and I am a junior in the College of Public Programs, majoring in Urban and Metropolitan Studies with a minor in Urban Planning. Currently, I am involved in a plethora of projects: I am an Honors College RCSL, Gallery Assistant (and sometimes curator) at Modified Arts, Project Manager and Curator of "Exit to Left," a documentation project relating to historic buildings along the light rail line in partnership with Sustainable Communities Collaborative, and Director of Community Initiatives for the Downtown Devil online student publication. For the purposes of this blog, though, my primary work is at Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art (SMoCA), where I serve as a curatorial intern. I began the internship over the summer, and was asked to continue working. Now, I will be refocusing my work installation in the galleries in order to broaden my skillset. For this semester's work, I hope to accomplish/learn a few things: 1. Better understand how to build a cohesive show of art work 2. Gain practical skills to complement my creative ones in working at the intersection of art and urbanism (my true twin passions). 3. Build relationships into which I might one day build a career. Aside from this all-consuming "work" thing, I fancy myself a man of many tastes. I enjoy staying out late, exploring my surroundings, going to shows of all sorts, and reading about topics from race to gender to music to art to politics to alternatives to capitalism (no joke). On top of that, I occasionally find time to sleep...but only sometimes. And now, without further ado, I leave you with a photo of me at age 16, enjoying SMoCA's 10th Anniversary weekend with my cousin, in an image that appeared on AZCentral.