Best Of :: People & Places
I was reading a piece about my Mormon heritage at a writing workshop when the instructor, Tania Katan, got incredibly animated and said, "Oh, my God, you've got to meet my partner Angela." It was one of those quick "No way!" moments when I mentioned that I was a descendant of William Jordan Flake, and then she said Angela is a descendant of the Snow family.
A little Arizona history here — the northern Arizona town of Snowflake was named after William Jordan Flake, pioneer and colonizer and visiting Mormon apostle Erastus Snow. The two combined their names to get "Snowflake."
Could it be? It was an energizing moment, like shouting, "Wonder Twin powers activate!" Then, Tania pulled a sheet away to reveal one of Ellsworths's Seer Bonnets. The Seer Bonnets are bonnets made from traditional pioneer patterns that have been completely covered in long pearl corsage pins. We're talking thousands — as in, 14,000-plus — of corsage pins, with which she painstakingly covered the entire surface of the fabric. The pearl ends on the outside, all the sharp tips pointing inward into the interiors of the bonnets. Seeing it was — to use a Mormon phrase — a revelation. It took my breath away.
Angela Ellsworth is an interdisciplinary artist whose art practice includes performance, drawing, and object making. Her work has been known to draw heavily on her Mormon roots, whether it be pushing a handcart on a walk from Phoenix to Mesa or a performance piece featuring imagined sister wives.
To me, having grown up in a small town, art — specifically, female art — very often meant "craft." I grew up in a family whose female members were masterful at crochet, quilting, baking, making Christmas ornaments, etc. What was immediately recognizable in Angela's work was a nod to these traditions while simultaneously taking them to extremes.
As it turns out, Angela is a descendant not of Erastus Snow of Snowflake, but from 5th Prophet Lorenzo Snow. So we're not wonder twins. But, still, her creativity and, more specifically, her willingness to peel the lid back and take a look at the matrilineal lines running within and throughout a patriarchal faith make her a hero(ine) to me. — Sativa Peterson
New Times contributor Sativa Peterson, who talks about her own Mormon roots, among other things, on her blog, www.sativapeterson.com, interviewed Angela Ellsworth on August 18 at Ellsworth's Phoenix studio.
I live in Phoenix because I love the horizon line. So I'm here for the horizon line and the landscape and sky . . . so much of my work is really about being here so right now it feels completely interconnected, my research, my art practice, my teaching.
When I was a kid I wanted to dress every day in a different theme. So, I did, actually. Like, one day, I'd go to school as a sailor or like a Swiss alpine hiker wearing lederhosen and with a rope around my shoulder, and then maybe a fortuneteller another day.
Phoenix could use more unexpected pioneers. Sort of pioneers of the everyday — or people who are navigating and maybe changing social space on an everyday level. Not people in power necessarily, but people one wouldn't expect to be a pioneer I think.
Phoenix could use fewer laws that restrict civil rights.
I have the superpower of smell. I can smell . . . things. Special particular things. Like when I walk into someone's home and there's a dirty dishrag somewhere I can sniff out where that is, and sometimes it's not even in the kitchen. I'm just saying . . . I'm not just going to the kitchen, I can find that dishrag.
The superpower I would want is to have my hearing do the same thing so that I could hear through multiple walls and I could listen to the ground and hear to the center of the Earth, and that I could hear through multiple different kinds of materials, you know like listen through a mountain. I'd really like that, but not in a noisy way. I'm really sensitive to sound, that's why I think I'm almost onto having this super power — so just fine-tuning. There's some tuning going on that pretty soon I'm going to be able to hear a cloud.
My hero is my great great aunt, Eliza R. Snow . . . [She was] one of the first plural wives of Joseph Smith, which gives her a certain amount of clout, but she never had children (because apparently she was pushed down the steps by the first wife, Emma Smith, when she was pregnant and miscarried and then she never had kids again). And she was called the poetess of the Mormon faith. And so she's a heroine for me because she found a way to, through creativity, kind of tap in to who she [was] within that larger community and maybe transcending it.
Want an original piece of art but can't afford the hefty price tag? Enter the Art-o-mat, a restored vintage cigarette machine that poops out handcrafted art pieces as if they were gumball-machine trinkets. The project began in 1997, when North Carolina artist Clark Whittington displayed his black-and-white photos like old-school ciggies. People loved them so much that the display became a permanent fixture and the idea blossomed into a national network of machines (though this is the only one in Arizona). Pop your cash in the slot, pull the old-timey plastic knob and out comes a work of art from the project's huge roster. Most are pretty amusing. Recent sightings at the slick chrome machine include Bearded Bunnies by William Hessian, Victorian vignettes, and Julie Graces' "Peep Show" secret spy mini-telescopes. You're obviously not going to get a Van Gogh-quality oil painting here, but for $5, any piece of art better than a line drawing is a steal.
Those Christian Louboutin kicks looked damn cute when you saw them on sale at Barney's — and even cuter when you wore 'em — but honestly, that's hardly practical footwear for an evening of walking around Old Town. Easy on the eyes, murder on the feet. Since your pocketbook's emptier than Lady Gaga's head, following your latest shoe-gasm, we've got a suggestion that's equally chic and cheap: Hop aboard one of the four Bunny Rides street-legal golf carts puttering from club to club. Operated by entrepreneur Aaron Lipson, these eight-passenger rides provide complimentary jaunts (although tips are appreciated) from 7 p.m. until 3 a.m. every Thursday through Saturday night. Decorated in electric pink livery and pumping out Top 40 tracks via built-in stereos, Bunny Rides are hard to miss, even after dark. Lipson's crew cruises a service area encompassing Old Town (which stretches south from Chaparral to Thomas roads, and east between 68th Street and Hayden Road), which means schlepping slews of drunken divas and dudes to danceterias, as well as back to nearby hotels. "People get loud and crazy, girls show their boobs, you name it," Lipson says. "It's like a party on wheels." Some caveats: They won't take you home, and those appearing to be overintoxicated aren't permitted to ride. "We don't wanna get sued if people fall out," he says. Besides, why risk the chance of scuffing up your $500 babies? Reach Bunny Rides at 602-405-2106.
We've long thought Phoenix's skyline was pretty — if a little odd. Why do there appear to be two downtowns, and why does one lone skyscraper — the building formerly known as the Dial Tower — rise up from the earth between them? Then we learned something about our skyline that got us asking another question. Why are we so short? Here's a telling fact: At 483 feet, Chase Tower is Arizona's tallest building. Okay, maybe that number doesn't mean anything to you, so let's put it in perspective. Arkansas has a building that's 546 feet high. We're talking about Arkansas, the land of Walmart and rampant shoelessness. Actually, such less-urbanized and less-populous states as Iowa, Kentucky, Oklahoma, and Nebraska all have buildings taller than the biggest and best of Arizona. Chase Tower wouldn't be one of the 20 tallest buildings in Texas, and that state isn't exactly known for passionate urban planning. Actually, of the country's 10 largest cities, only San Jose, California, has a tallest building shorter than Chase Tower, and, let's be honest: No one knows how or why San Jose is one of the country's 10 largest cities.
As a former New Yorker who's lived in the Valley for a decade, Marshall Shore may know a lot more about Phoenix history than most natives. Like the fact that Mr. Lucky's was intended to be Arizona's first casino or that Wayne Newton was a regular performer at Bill Johnson's Big Apple. Shore, who calls himself an information curator, deals hour-long doses of local lore each month at the Phoenix Retro Spectacular. For a fiver, listeners and fellow tale-tellers can sip wine and lounge on vintage furniture at Phoenix Metro Retro while Shore, through stories and images, shares his understanding of Phoenix antiquity and the importance of saving it.
Photo booths are always cool, like black T-shirts and motorcycles. They practically invite rebellion, so we give ourselves permission to act up. We contort our bodies with those of our friends and family as we try to get everyone in the frame. In short, we ham it up. So what could be better than a traveling photo booth? Enter Mr. Fun Booth, where you can take as many digital pictures as you like with a nifty remote control inside the 2-by-2-by-6-foot box. Renting Mr. Fun Booth comes with delivery within 50 miles of Central Phoenix, setup and teardown of the booth, three hours of shooting time, and a webpage for viewing and/or purchasing prints. Call 480-588-2778, and have fun.