She makes magical menorahs (and more)

Trademark handcrafted ceramic menorah by North Carolina artist Sue Treuman

I recently wrote the piece below, about the fabulous ceramic sculptor Sue Treuman, for my regular artisan column in the News & Observer. Her work is sold nationwide and  menorah prices range from around $95 to $250. Google her name and you’ll find stores that sell it. It’s amazing!  Here’s the article:

The aftermath of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks prompted ceramic sculptor and musician Sue Treuman and her husband, Bill, to look for a more low-key place to live. She grew up in New York, and had spent most of her adult life not far away, but moved to Chapel Hill, North Carolina, in 2007.

Despite the emotional and economic trauma of 9/11, Treuman said it was a dream a few months earlier that affected her most.

“It was the end of the world, and everyone was running around trying to get what they could get, just running around like crazy,” she recalled. “I walked through the crowd and decided I didn’t want to do that. I walk through the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and there are poets and singers singing their songs. I see everyone expressing themselves. It’s all about creating one’s life and doing what one needs to do. It changed my life.”

Some of her menorahs focus on one figure

While she had been making art for decades, Treuman, 62, became more focused and more appreciative of her creative community. When she and Bill decided to move, that was key.

“Family, community, connections, generations; that’s what’s important to me,” she said. They spent two years in Northampton, Mass., but Bill wanted to move south.

Then she saw Weaver Street Market, the cooperative grocery store and gathering spot in Carrboro, near the boundary of Chapel Hill. “I said, ‘OK, I can live here.’ It speaks of community, and that’s what my work is about.”

Sue's work often depicts family, community, and connections

Indeed, community and family are themes that run through Treuman’s work, especially in the pieces for which she is national recognized: menorahs, the candelabrums used during the Jewish holiday of Hanukkah. Each is a masterpiece of ceramic sculpture, depicting one to nine figures in clay often in motion, perhaps dancing, playing music or praying.

She got the idea about 30 years ago, and over the years, they have become more sculptural, textured and detailed, she said.

“I celebrate the culture of being Jewish, and Hanukkah is one of my favorite Jewish holidays, because you sing,” said Treuman, who composes music, plays the guitar and sings.

“It’s the story of the miracle of light, that the oil that was supposed to burn for one day burned for eight days.”

Menorahs are used during Hanukkah, which this year starts Dec. 12

In her 20s, while working out of a co-op art studio in the Bronx, Treuman’s pottery was for the most part functional. But as her work evolved, she moved more into sculptural pieces, especially the human form, and the menorahs were the perfect stage.

“These are functional, sculptural, and spiritual, synthesized in a ritual form,” she said. “There’s something about making an object of ritual use that people will touch and use. For me personally, I need my stuff to be touched.”

Sue shapes the stoneware clay with her hands and a potters' wheel

Treuman works on them year-round, in parts, storing limbs in different boxes. “My husband calls them the body snatchers,” she said with a laugh. She shapes the stoneware clay with her hands and a potters’ wheel, and each menorah has textures pressed into it, not carved.

“I do series, and though some might look the same, they’re all different. They’re fired twice, glazed, and then I enhance them. The faces have to be worked on to bring out detail, and I’ll use different lusters and acrylic colors.”

She sells the menorahs in galleries around the country, and they will be among the work on display at her home studio during Orange County Open Studios in the first two weekends of November.

A day with friends inspired 'Goddess pots,' Sue's most recent creation

More recently, the sculptural series Treuman has been concentrating on is her “goddess pots,” vessels decorated with a fantastical woman’s face or torso.

“They were conceived after spending a day egg-painting with a group of women,” she said. “For some reason, being with a group of women always gets my creative juices flowing. I woke up in the middle of the night and said, ‘My next project will be goddess pots,’ and I drew everything out.

Goddess pots celebrate womanhood

“I wanted it to be women vessels, women holding space, and it turned into open vessels that became women, and then a venue for making different faces, hair, textures. Some are very, very big. I do make some smaller ones, but I usually sell them to private collectors.”

Since moving to the area, Treuman has gathered together a new group of women.

“I literally found one woman weaving in her front garden. I’ve never been so bold,” she said. “We dance and sing and eat and laugh. We have fun. The group is dedicated to the spirit of being a woman and what wonderful things women can do and be.”

We heart (spoon) Gourmet

The very day (Oct. 5) it was announced that Conde Nast was shuttering Gourmet magazine after 69 years of service, I had started a pitch letter to an editor there. Well, that was not meant to be. Not that I’m feeling bad for myself, when dozens of employees are now out of work. Welcome to the world of freelancing, my friends.

Meanwhile, I felt nostalgic for the first little piece I wrote for Gourmet in 2002. I’m thrilled to report that the subject — Beehive Kitchenware Co. — is not only still in business but thriving, with many gorgeous new pieces in its cupboards. Read on:

From the February 2002 issue of Gourmet (click on the cover above and you can see article. Woo-hoo, technology!):

The spoons that launched a dozen magazine articles, mine included

Some men give their sweethearts flowers for Valentine’s. Not Jim Dowd. He made girlfriend Sandra Bonazoli a pancake turner, the spatula end shaped like a heart, the handle resembling cupid’s arrow. A few years later, it ended up being one of the couple’s first in a collection of handmade cookware. After Dowd, a custom metal fabricator, and Bonazoli, a jeweler (both are 33 and have masters’ in fine arts), married in 1998, they looked for a joint project. Bonazoli, whose family owned a neighborhood restaurant in Newton, Mass., for two generations, already had a fondness for kitchenware. “One day she was waxing about how new kitchen utensils work well, but they don’t have the soul that a lot of older ones do,” recollects Dowd. “So we said, ‘why don’t we make them?’ ” Now their company, Beehive Kitchenware Co., based in Fall River, Mass., has a line of 13 pieces (and growing) and two production assistants. (UPDATE: I count 37 on their website in 2009.)

Now that's my cup of tea!

Hearts show up in much of their work, including a pewter tea strainer and rest, coffee scoop, and measuring spoons. A set of spice spoons takes care of recipes that call for a “dash,” “pinch” or “smidgen.” Hearts also are found in the etched patterns of Beehive’s copper and silver-plated measuring cups. “Hearts are traditional and even kind of corny, but people really respond to them,” Dowd says. “What we’ve tried to do, instead of take kitchen utensils and try to slap something on them, we try to incorporate the heart into the design so it seems a little more seamless.”

Cupid's best baking friend

Also traditional are their fabrication methods. “In order for us to make these things we needed old equipment.” From an antique tool broker they found an old wiring machine and other traditional metal-smithing pieces.

For new ideas, “we look at a lot of examples of folk art,” Dowd says. Beehive’s newest offering is a pizza wheel cutter with an ivory-colored resin handle, based on a 19th-century scrimshaw-decorated cutter they saw at the New Bedford (Mass.) Whaling Museum.

Diane’s 2009 update: I don’t see the scrimshaw-inspired cutter in their list of products. You can purchase items from that products page, or, for a list of brick-and-mortar outlets that carry Beehive products,  go here. Happy shopping!

A potent Intervention we could all use

Buddha was the main character on stage in Paperhand Puppet's 2006 show

For 15 years I lived in Boston, and for 15 years I ignored Bread & Puppet‘s  “cheap art and political theater in Vermont.” I was stupid and thought myself too cool to hang with the crunchies. I have found salvation from my sins here in North Carolina: Paperhand Puppet Intervention. (Plus, with age, I seem to have become a bit crunchie myself.)

When I first heard about Paperhand, my eyes glazed over. Puppets? Not my cup of chamomile.  But after enough People I Trust told me it was the coolest thing ever, I succumbed. My review: Coolest Thing Ever. I want to take everyone there, but since I can’t, I’ll just tell y’all about it. And, please, if you ever visit our neck of the woods, try to catch a show by one of the most creative artistic groups you’ll find anywhere in the world. To whet your appetite, check out their videos and photos online. If you need a ride, let me know.

Mother Earth filled the stage in 2008

First, the “puppets.” They’re huge, breathtaking, soulful, gorgeous. Also onstage at various times: giant masks, stilt dancing, rod puppets, shadow puppets and more. And a wonderful live band accompanies them. The puppets live at Paperhand’s home (secured this year!) in Saxapahaw, a former mill town being reborn by creative types.

A tale about a fishing family in a rapidly transforming world debuted in 2007

Second, the stories. They often start with an epic myth (this time the Babylonian creation epic) played out violently and then transforming into scenes of  peace, love, social justice, etc.  Yes, the audience is hit over the head with this stuff, but it’s OK because it’s all true and real and wonderful and you just want to have a giant group hug by the end.

Stilt dancers in the 2008 show

Third, the people. Paperhand was formed in 1998 by co-creators Jan Burger and Donovan Zimmerman. You know they and their co-conspirators are not getting rich doing this, so you already have to love them for pouring their hearts, souls, energy, and savings accounts (as if) into carrying forth a mighty mission. From their website: “Our vision is inspired by our love for the earth and its creatures (including humans) as well as our belief in justice, equality, and peace.” And this: “Paperhand’s mission is to make work that inspires people, promotes social change, and is deeply satisfying for everyone involved.”

There are always (I think) four acts. The third ends with the biggest puppet/creature (carried forth by several people) going up into the audience to be touched by adoring children in the crowd. The first year we went, in 2006, the star was a heart-achingly beautiful 20-foot Buddha. This year it was a lion. But it was so much more than that.

Children rush to touch the lion as it lumbers through the crowd

This year’s 10th anniversary show,  “The Living Sea of Memory” (in the area through Sept. 12), is  dedicated to Kevin Brock, the band’s drummer and dear friend, who died last year at the very early age 37.  There has been a huge outpouring of love for this man who illuminated many people’s universes. The lion in the performance is Kevin. It comes through the crowd after the act called “Memory,” in which family stories (from the cast) are shared through the puppets. I think I would have cried anyway, but after losing my mom this year, those stories tore me up.  When the lion came lumbering up the stairs of the wonderful Forest Theatre amphitheater, children rushed up, hands reaching out to touch him. Pure magic.

In 2009, the usual standing ovation for another magnificent show

I read today that several of the shows on this current tour have been rained out, which means less money for the troupe.  I don’t expect you to read this and send in a little tax-deductible donation to help cover Paperhand’s rent, but you’re certainly welcome to.  And please try to see these amazing artists and activists.  They are the change they wish to see.

Artist’s-eye view of Art Basel Miami Beach

Joanne Mattera wakes up Newbury Street with this piece at Arden Gallery in Boston

I met artist Joanne Mattera when I went to her 2003 show at Arden Gallery in Boston (one of my first outings with Wessel). I’m drawn to colorists, and she’s one of my favorite. I love, love, love her paintings. Joanne works in (and introduced me to) encaustic, a method of painting with translucent layers of wax. She literally wrote the book on it — “The Art of Encaustic Painting.” Coincidentally, this weekend Joanne is holding the third annual Encaustic Painting Conference at Montserrat College at Art in Beverly, Mass. I took an encaustic workshop last year in Chapel Hill, NC, with Lynn Bregman Blass, whose work I also greatly admire. Let’s just say that I’m sticking to writing (which Joanne also does a great job of in her blog).    

When Joanne sent me this idea for my “Where they Went” column in the Boston Globe, I thought it was great. So, enough intro, here we go:

(“Where they Went,” published April 26, 2009,  Boston Globe)

Joanne Mattera gets artsy with a Mark Fox screen at Art Basel Miami Beach

WHO: Joanne Mattera of Salem, Mass., and New York City

WHERE: Miami.

WHEN: A week in December.

WHY: To attend Art Basel Miami Beach and related shows. “My life and my art life are intertwined,” said Mattera, a painter mostly in encaustic who is represented by Arden Gallery in Boston. “Look what I do for fun: I go look at art.”

Joanne reflects on Anish Kapoor sculpture

HOT SHOW: The prestigious Art Basel in South Florida, an international modern and contemporary art exhibit and sister show to Art Basel in Switzerland, has grown exponentially since its start in 2002, said Mattera, who has attended for the past four years. “It came out of nowhere and made this huge splash in the art world here. But then who wouldn’t want go to Florida in December?” Over the years, the show, held at the Miami Beach Convention Center, has inspired more than two dozen “satellite shows” both in surrounding venues and in Wynwood, Miami’s growing art district.

EXHIBITING THRIFT: “This is the first year I’ve been that I haven’t had work there, but I love the opportunity to go. My galleries weren’t participating, and fewer were overall because of the economy. Some dealers were saying they were going to sit it out this year.” Mattera has another reason for attending – she writes about the scene and the shows for Joanne Mattera Art Blog.

Joanne puts herself in "Garden Mirror" installation by Olafur Eliasson

ALL INCLUSIVE: “Except for a few art fairs, there is no other time and no other place that you can see art from dozens of countries and you get to chat with dealers, collectors, other artists, critics, and curators. Even though people are working, their guards are down, they’re relaxed.” The public attends, too, with tickets $35 a day or less. Many of the smaller shows are free or nominally priced.

MAJOR TO MINOR: A change this year, Mattera said, was fewer boundary-pushing pieces. “I think the economy made dealers bring some of their safer work.” Art Basel also is a market for dealers to sell big-name work for millions. “You might have a Picasso or a Miró or a Warhol. But at the smaller venues, you find work from galleries like in Boston and other regions at prices of $10,000 and under, much under.”

SEE, SEE, SEE: Mattera doesn’t seek or find inspiration at Art Basel. “I have a path for my work and an approach and it doesn’t really matter what I see or where I am. It’s an interior dialogue. So for me it’s not about getting ideas, but it is about connecting with the larger art world to see what’s going on. You want to know what’s out there, and see it all.”

Seattle’s best blend: art on the waterfront

Eagle from Alexander Calder with Puget Sound in the background (Click to ENLARGE)

When Wessel and I flew into Seattle this past spring to then go on by car to the Olympic Peninsula, we first took one detour — to the new Olympic Sculpture Park. This amazing green space, open since 2007 and operated by the Seattle Art Museum, is to me one of the most exciting spots in the city. Not only are the landscaping, art, and setting magnificent, admission is free! Below is a little ditty I wrote about it for the Boston Globe travel section “Rave” feature on Sept. 7 (illustrated by one of Wessel’s photos). I just noticed that I used the word “impressive” twice. I’m surprised my editors didn’t catch that!

Urban art with a green heart

SEATTLE – In an impressive makeover, this forward-thinking city has turned a former fuel-storage and transfer facility into a striking sculpture park.

Fountain with sculpture Father and Son (2004-2006) from Louise Bourgeois; the Father is covered with water

Opened by the Seattle Art Museum last year, Olympic Sculpture Park, on the northern end of the waterfront, is in a vibrant area to stroll, shop, eat, and admire world-class sculpture. The nine acres of green space that overlook Puget Sound and look out at the Olympic Mountains bring together the best of this city: art and outdoor recreation.

Rotating neon ampersand, part of Roy McMakin's installation Love & Loss (Click to ENLARGE)

What’s most impressive is the way the park melds contemporary landscape design with existing urban infrastructure. A 2,500-foot, Z- shaped route follows the landform, leading from the visitors center and cafe on a hilltop through a series of outdoor “galleries” marked by differing landscaping down to a waterfront recreational path.

Of course the 21 sculptures take center stage, representing such artists as Louise Bourgeois, Alexander Calder, Richard Serra, and Ellsworth Kelly.

Mark Dion`s Neukom Vivarium, a greenhouse with a 60-foot hemlock nurse log

The most provocative sculpture is Mark Dion’s “Neukom Vivarium.” The New Bedford, Mass., native and Pennsylvania resident custom-designed a greenhouse that houses a 60-foot-long western hemlock nurse log, whose decay and renewal represents the cycle of life.

IF YOU GO: Olympic Sculpture Park, 2901 Western Ave., 206-654-3100. Opens 30 minutes before sunrise and closes 30 minutes after sunset. Free.

El Greco heads south, with Velázquez in tow

El Greco, St. James (Santiago el Mayor), about 1610-14. Oil on canvas, 39 1/2 x 31 5/8 inches. Collection of Museo del Greco, Toledo. (El Greco, also Domenikos Theotokopoulos, Greek, active in Spain, 1541–1614)

Usually when a major art exhibit leaves the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, it moves to New York, Philadelphia, Chicago, or Los Angeles. But not this time. If you missed “El Greco to Velázquez: Art During the Reign of Philip III” during its Boston run earlier this year, you can still catch it in Durham, North Carolina. That’s right. Durham. Truth is, Durham isn’t exactly podunk. We have 200,000 residents, as well as Research Triangle Park and Duke University. Duke is why the show is here now, at its Nasher Museum of Art. Specifically, the stunning exhibit is due to a decades-long interest in the art by Nasher curator Sarah Schroth. She pretty much single-handedly uncovered a treasure trove of art from 1598 to 1621, a little known period during Philip III’s rule of Spain — and Spain’s rule of the world.

Boston was involved because Sarah turned to her art historian colleague and college pal Ronnie Baer, who is a curator at the MFA in Boston. The women had studied at NYU together and become lifelong friends. I saw them speak together at the Nasher’s press preview for the show and they were very sweet and excited. They even giggled a little, so delighted they were in this amazing partnership and exhibit. What a testament it is to decades of friendship and toil in a field that, while impressive to many, isn’t likely understood by most people. Duke president Richard Brodhead spoke, as did Bruce Sharpe, who is Triangle Market President at Bank of America, the show’s primary sponsor, Bank of America. Bruce has quite the lovely drawl, and ended his little PR chat with “Thanks, y’all.” I don’t think you’d hear that in Boston.

Diego Rodríguez de Silva y Velázquez, The Immaculate Conception, 1618-1619. Oil on canvas, 53 1/8 x 40 inches. Collection of the National Gallery, London. Bought with the aid of The Art Fund, 1974. (Diego Rodríguez de Silva y Velázquez, Spanish, 1599-1660)

Of the 52 paintings are seven works by El Greco, three by a young Velázquez and works by their contemporaries, including Gregorio Fernández and Luis Tristan de Escamilla. (The show also includes altar pieces and more than 50 pieces of period glass and ceramics. The work formed the foundation of the Spanish Golden Age. That’s according to the Nasher press release. Personally, I know nothing about the lesser-known artists or the time period. I do greatly admire El Greco’s work, having seen much of it at the Prado in Madrid and at the MFA when I lived in Boston. While I can’t say the traditional art stirred me, I value its significance. What I did find magnificent and moving were the three full-length carved and painted wooden sculptures of Spanish saints. Each was carved from one piece of wood. They are exquisitely made and filled  with life and history.

Wessel and I are returning to the exhibit on Saturday, when it will no doubt be jam packed. This time I’ll pay the $15 admission, a $2 savings from the MFA price. Yet another reason to come see it here, y’all.

Update: Wessel and I did go on Saturday. It wasn’t jam packed, but there was a steady flow of visitors. I’m always expecting “blockbusters” in my neck of the woods to be like those in Boston, where you can’t park and have to wait in line for everything. Not so down here! I took the time and forked over the $3 to rent the audiotape and it was amazingly well done, complete with great period music and quotes from the curators and other experts. I highly recommend it!

What in tarnation? It’s Reinbarnation

Wessel and I have been doing a lot of bicycling lately in rural areas of North Carolina. If you’re not from these parts, you’re probably thinking, isn’t that all there is? While if you live in an NC metro area among the suburban sprawl, you’re probably asking, are there rural spots left? Absolutely, there are!

We’re “training” for a 62-mile annual group ride called BikeFest, organized by the Carolina Tarwheels cycling club. There’s also a century option (100 miles), but we’re just too plumb lazy, not to mention the thermometer will likely reach between 90 and 100 the day of the ride. Back in the day, a 62-mile ride was just a ride. Now it’s a minor ordeal. And so we train.

Tobacco barn in Stokes County, NC

One thing we love passing by during our rides are old barns, in various states of health or decline. They come in all sizes and shapes, but our favorites are pine tobacco barns, still fairly common sights in North Carolina. These were where the tobacco leaves were hung to be dried and cured.

When I first moved back here, five years ago, I was a bit repulsed by the state’s tobacco past. But now I’ve reconnected with my childhood, having grown up in Wake County, just outside of Raleigh in the 1960s and ’70s.

What I recall are rows and rows of tobacco plants on red-clay farms that practically covered the state. (Sadly, North Carolina leads the nation in the rate of lost farmland, with the state shedding more than 6,000 farms and 300,000 acres of farmland since 2002, according to the USDA.)

Crumbling tobacco barn in Surry County, NC

Yes, tobacco does awful things to people, but the plants are beautiful, and many families and businesses depended on the crop. So as much as I scorn smoking, I do have a fondness for the agricultural tradition. OK, minus the slavery, of course. I’m not winning over any of you, am I? So let’s just stick to barns then, and forget the tobacco part.

Diane (right) talks to Roger Dinger (Click to ENLARGE this mirror image)

Because I write regularly about NC artisans, I’ve come across several who use reclaimed barn wood for different things. By far the most impressive use has been by Roger Dinger, who lives outside of Siler City. (Yes, Andy and Barney used to go there! It really exists!) Not only are Roger’s furnishings and home accessories from barn wood absolutely gorgeous, he came up with the best name ever for his company — Reinbarnation. Perfect! I wrote about him for the News & Observer in the spring. You can read the story, and check out his goods, on his website.  I traded him reprint rights for objets d’art, and Wessel and I now own two much-prized Reinbarnation mirrors.

Tag accompanying mirror made from tobacco barn in Silk Hope, NC (Click to ENLARGE)

Not only is Roger’s work wonderful, he adds a tag to each item that says what farm the wood is from. He truly is recycling the state’s history. (And, yes, he can ship a part of that NC history to you.) Thank you, Roger, for perpetuating the legacy of North Carolina barns, and in fine fashion at that.

For Celtic sign maker, it started with a barn

In honor of St. Patrick’s Day, I thought I’d post a shorter version of the story I wrote for my March 15 Who & Ware column in the News  & Observer (Raleigh, N.C.). To view or purchase Jim Potts’ amazing artwork, visit www.celticsigns.com.

DEEP GAP, N.C. — For Jim Potts, it all started with a barn. Potts, whose parents owned a department store in tiny Stanley in Gaston County, N.C.,  grew up to appreciate rural living. So when his grandfather’s barn in nearby Tennessee started to fall in, Potts knew he couldn’t let it go without paying his respects.

“I just picked up some of the wormy chestnut lumber and took it home with me,” said Potts, 59. “I was trying to figure out something to do with it so people could have a piece of Granddaddy’s barn in a community that was changing fast.”

He decided to make name signs by drawing the surname freehand and using a router to emboss it into the wood.

That was in 1985. Since then, Potts, who lives in Deep Gap,  near Boone, has made thousands more, eventually adding Celtic-inspired lettering and then expanding into Celtic art carvings.

From 1978 to 1997, Potts served as a pastor in Baptist churches, mostly in Raleigh.

“In 1997 my wife and I went camping on family property in Deep Gap,” he said. “We could find no reason from God or man to leave.”

By then, Potts had turned to the Celtic style, inspired by a gift he made for someone of Scottish heritage and a desire to make his work more elaborate. “I already knew of the Book of Kells because it’s a text of the New Testament. It’s a handwritten illustrated manuscript 1,200 years old, and the script is known to be the high point of early medieval Celtic art. The style is really culturally appropriate here.” Many regions of North Carolina were settled by Scottish Highlanders and Scots-Irish, people from Northern Ireland.

Potts first sold his wares at the 1998 Merlefest, the music festival in Wilkesboro. “I went down with only 25 pieces of merchandise and sold them and came away with enough orders to keep me busy for six weeks,” he said. “Today I go to shows with 1,200 or 1,400 pieces of merchandise in my trailer.”

As orders from customers became more complex, so did Potts’ artwork.

“People started to ask me to do a Celtic knot. So I did a simple Celtic knot and then they asked me to do a more complex one. About five years ago, I felt I could figure it out if I just dived in. One year in the wintertime when things were slow, I just set aside the time and did these really fancy ones.” The intricate carvings titled “Doing Theology” and “Promptus et Fidelis,” both shown on his Web site, are the ones he is proudest of.

“From the simplest to the most complex, basically I work the same way,” Potts said. “I decide on a design and the names and letters, and I free-hand draw that on the wood with each sign before engraving. “With the knot designs, I draw it one time using the ancient grid method used by the medieval artists. You draw a grid of dots and you connect the proper dots and sometimes you have to curve the lines. It’s very geometric, and you have to know which dots to connect.”

Potts and his wife live on a century-old farm in a mountain holler.

“Every day we praise the Lord because we enjoy our peace and quiet,” he said. His studio is in a former chicken house. “By the time I got here, the essence of chickens had already left.” Potts laughed. “I don’t have a brick-and-mortar business, but people are welcome to visit by appointment.”

Late artist’s oasis casts a spell in Tucson

I’ve been to Tucson, Arizona, a few times, but only on my most recent trip, last June with Wessel, did the DeGrazia Gallery in the Sun catch my attention. I saw a listing for it in the city’s tourism magazine, and it seemed interesting. But nothing prepared us for such a mystical place that reflects its desert setting. Do not miss it! 

When artist Ettore “Ted” DeGrazia and his sculptor wife, Marion, moved out of downtown Tucson and into the foothills of the Santa Catalina Mountains in the 1950s, only a small dirt road marked the way. Half a century later, his 10-acre retreat, home to a public gallery and chapel, sits just off busy Swan Road, a thoroughfare into the foothills and now a tony address.

DeGrazia (1909-82) was a painter and graphic artist who specialized in Southwestern and Native American life. He was most known for his illustration “Los Niños” (The Children), which graced a 1960 UNICEF Christmas card.

The 13-room DeGrazia Gallery in the Sun featuring his original art and the tiny Mission in the Sun chapel are magical places, where admirers of Southwest art and architecture can go for a sensory overload of colors, textures, and religious iconography. The complex was added to the National Register of Historic Places in October 2006.

The artist and his Native American friends created the buildings literally from the ground up, using mud to shape adobe bricks. The colorful dry-brush painted walls and the floors of cholla cactus slices embedded in concrete could stand up to any of today’s decorative treatments.

The large gift shop sells some original lithographs and serigraphs and ceramics made from DeGrazia’s molds. Merchandise can also be purchased at the foundation’s website.

DeGrazia Gallery in the Sun, 6300 North Swan Road, Tucson, 520- 299-9191, 800-545-2185, degrazia.org. Free admission. Daily 10 am.- 4 p.m. except holidays. Chapel open daily sunrise to sunset.