Sometimes good things just keep on getting better. With about 170 working artists to choose from, scattered far and wide across greater Tucson, making the most of this past weekend’s Open Studio Tour was a massive and inspiring challenge. Since I have a number of close friends who are accomplished Tucson artists, I have a pleasant but unfortunate tendency to park myself at a colleague’s studio for half the tour, spend a delightful afternoon chatting and sipping wine, thereby missing out on so much of what the tour has to offer. This year, I was determined to get out, see more and do more, and I did.

On Friday I profiled a few of my favorite local Tucson artists in The Logical Lizard, including Lisa Marie Morrison of Sirocco Design, Suzanne Morrison of Backcountry Photography and photographer Stu Jenks, and much of Saturday was spent visiting with them. On Sunday I made it a mission to meet some new artists, see some new work, and maybe add an original or two to the Logical Lizard’s modest art collection. These were some of my personal highlights:

Artist Chris Bishop and part of the outdoor exhibit at Maiden Arizona

Chris Bishop of maidenarizona.com, is a transplant from New Jersey and her artistic journey to Arizona reminded me more than a little of my own. She is interested in everything from photo mosaics to creative desert landscaping. Chris invited five women artists to help transform her home studio on North Monroe Crescent into a two-day indoor/outdoor art show encompassing watercolors, textiles, mosaics, found-art collage, and other mixed media. She has gathered a fine group of talented people around her and I was particularly impressed by art teacher and fiber artist Jacqueline Bland, and Joanne Pritzen’s colorful mixed media found art collages that somehow managed to happily reminded me of both Roy Lichtenstein and Kurt Schwitters in the same instant (Twosies, a lovely vibrant piece that was featured in the TPAC guide came home with me).

At 2409 North Castro I enjoyed watercolor instructor Bob Goldman‘s beautiful figure work in pen, charcoal, and pastels as well as clasically inspired portraits by Hope Cunningham.

Later in the afternoon I took a long drive down to Pantano and Escalante to view some impressive large works by metal sculptor and blacksmith Jason E. Butler. Jason was at the JCC unveiling a new work, and I was treated to a tour of his workshop by his wife Mary. Jason also teaches metal working at Pima Community College and his sculpture is an intriguing blend of organic and industrial elements.

Metal sculpture by Jason E. Butler

Metal sculpture by Jason E. Butler

Elizabeth Frank is an artist’s artist. Widely admired within the community, she works with fallen aspen branches (collected during an annual pilgrimage to Colorado) and found objects such as discarded tin ceiling plates, vintage photos, keys, hinges and abandoned furniture. The result is a series of magical and whimsical sculptures. Tall, elegant, ethereal figures clustered together on pedestals in her aerie-like space atop the Labor Temple Studios at 267 South Stone reminded me of haunting black and white photos taken in Alberto Giacometti’s Paris studio during the 1960s. After a couple of glasses of chardonnay, I realized I’d fallen hopelessly in love with the delicate and pensive Moonlight Angel, and that piece asked to go home with me too. A venerable Tucson building, the Labor Temple is home to five artists and is a must-see venue on the studio tour.

Tucson artist Elizabeth Frank

Elizabeth Frank studio

"Moonlight Angel" (detail) by Elizabeth Frank

At the 7th Avenue Arts District Studios, sculptor Dana Smith‘s work caught my eye. As a paleontologist and science writer I was fascinated by her large scale ceramic work, inspired by fossil ammonites from Morocco and Madagascar, and ancient trilobites. A lively conversation revealed that Dana and I have a long string of mutual friends in the science world, and I accidentally delivered a (hopefully) short lecture on the history of ammonites—an extinct cephalopod in which I have a particular interest.

Sculptor Dana Smith and some of her fossil-inspired recent works

As usual, I ended the day with my pal Stu Jenks. I was treated to a preview of his gorgeous new fine art photography book, Hoop Dancing: More Journeys Through Nocturnal Photography, Book Two which will be published next week and limited to 300 signed and numbered copies.

Photographer Stu Jenks in his studio on North Seventh Avenue

So, after consuming two long days, numerous slices of brie, and almost half a tank of gas, that left about 145 artists I didn’t get to visit this year. I wish I could get everywhere and see everything, but the Open Studio Tour would have to last at least two weeks to make such a thing even possible. But what I did see underscored something I already know well: Tucson is blessed with a diverse, friendly and fabulous arts community.

My compliments to the Tucson Pima Arts Council for organizing another successful event, and also to the supporting sponsors. And if you missed the fall tour this year, don’t worry. Next weekend’s outdoor Tucson Museum of Arts Holiday Craft Market is another excellent opportunity to revel in the beaux arts of Tucson. See you there.

Photographs © by Geoffrey Notkin. All rights reserved. No reproduction without written permission. Artworks pictured are © by the respective artists and reproduced with express permission.

I was, for many years, actively involved with the Burning Man arts and counter culture festival that takes over Nevada’s Black Rock Desert each year around the Labor Day weekend. I was lucky enough to make my first visit back in 1997 when it was still relatively small and you could actually walk around and see everything. I went on to be a founder member of the Burning Man New York local chapter, and returned to Burning Man in 1998 and 2000. After that I was done. In ’97 there were less than 10,000 attendees. That number has now swelled to 50,000 and bigger isn’t always better.

Burning Man 1998. Black Rock Desert, Nevada

Going to Burning Man is an extraordinary, life changing journey, but it finally got too vast and crowded for me. The art installations and theme camps began—at least in my experience—to be eclipsed by partiers, gawkers and all-night desert raves; the creative elements that are the heart of Burning Man were, to a degree, marginalized.

And now, sadly but I suppose inevitably, our annual All Souls Procession is facing similar hurdles. All Souls is our city’s most fantastic and dazzling event of the year. Read my earlier pieces for TC.com, “It All Started with All Souls” and “All Souls is Tucson’s Night of Nights,” and you will appreciate how much I adore this vibrant spectacle. However, success does come with a price.

Tucson silversmith Lisa Marie of Sirocco Design helps friends with their makeup before the 2009 All Souls Procession

Last night I attended my sixth consecutive All Souls parade, and I don’t just show up with a camera. I walk the walk. I also work on costumes and masks so I can make my own small visual contribution to the parade. Yesterday’s procession was staggering in its size. So many people marched, and there were so many floats and giant puppets that Fourth Avenue was nearly choked, and several times the parade came to a complete standstill. Sidewalks were packed with spectators all the way from University and Fourth to the loading docks across from Toole. And this is what I mean by the phrase “Burning Man Problem.” When an arts event is so exciting and intoxicating that it attracts an ever-growing number of participants and spectators, it faces the possibility of getting so big that it loses touch with the very thing that made it fabulous in the first place. When a unique, cutting-edge, local event grows to titanic proportions, is it possible to remain true to its original vision? I think it is, and I have a suggestion:

Local artists Jewels and Ismist with their spectacular 13-foot float honoring Shirley who passed away earlier this year

If you want to watch the parade, then watch the parade from the sidelines. If you want to be a participant, then really be a participant. A rough estimate—based on not very much but walking the length of the parade a few times, and prepared quickly in my somewhat addled brain—told me that at least one in four people walking with the procession were in ordinary house clothes and not bringing anything to it but their bodies. I fully appreciate that All Souls is not only an arts event, but also a spiritual event in which many mark the loss of loved ones during the previous year. As such, of course, it should be open to all. But—and this is a big but—many participants spend weeks or months building marvelous floats and designing elaborate costumes and masks. Out of respect for those who have given up time and money to make something beautiful or scary to bring to All Souls, I propose that marchers either dress up or stand aside. A spectacle like All Souls is only as good as its participants and I’d hate to see it populated by thousands of people shambling down Fourth Avenue in t-shirts and blue jeans. Really, what is the point of mystical parade in which people don’t wear something special?

Tucson fire troupe Flam Chen upped the ante with a particularly dazzling show during the 2009 All Souls finale

Thanks are due to the Many Mouths One Stomach volunteers who devote so much time and energy to making All Souls live, and to the Tucson Police Department, who once again managed the large and excitable crowd with courtesy and patience. And finally, it is important to remember that you live in an arts-friendly community in which a giant flaming cauldron is hoisted into the air by a crane, over a crowd of thousands, on a Sunday night. I really cannot think of another city in the country that would even consider allowing such a wonderful thing (San Francisco banned the original Burning Man from Baker Beach because it got too big).

All Souls is still the greatest, but let’s not lose sight of what makes it great. See you in front of Epic Cafe next year, and please, think about wearing a costume.

Photographs © by Geoffrey Notkin. All rights reserved. No reproduction without written permission.

While our fine city enjoys international fame as host of the annual Tucson gem and mineral shows (and you’ll be hearing plenty about that from me during January and February), tonight is the night that the Old Pueblo is truly at its finest and strangest. The All Souls Procession—Tucson’s hip, weirdo, eclectic, inexplicable and sometimes cutting-edge arts scene’s retrofitted take on Day of the Dead—is the most exciting, inspiring and magical event of the year.

All Souls is already well known to many of you, I’m sure, but I am delighted that this year two of my friends will be experiencing their first procession. If you’ve never seen it, turn off the TV and get yourself downtown by 6 pm. You will not be disappointed. If you’ve watched as a spectator, but never participated, throw on some black and white face paint, don a costume or mask, revel in the ritual, and spare a moment for the memory of a loved one who has moved on to the next world (or whatever you believe in) during the past year.

With local media director, rock star, and bon vivant Caroline Palmer during the 2008 procession

One of my happy annual tasks is designing and building an elaborate mask to wear during the procession. Last year I wore a Hopi-inspired sun god and it was my best-ever effort. I had grand plans for this year—a giant gila monster faceplate was the winning idea—but, alas, the previous two months have been entirely filled by on-the-road adventures filming the new season of my television adventure series Meteorite Men. As such, there was no time to create something new for the 2009 parade. And that, dear readers, also explains why I have been absent from TC.com, lo these many weeks. I missed you, but I am back, and just in time for my favorite, favorite event of the year.

The mighty Flam Chen tear it up during the grand finale to the 2007 All Souls Procession. Photo by Geoffrey Notkin.

I’ll be on Fourth Avenue this evening, likely more than a little fired up, looking forward to bounding through the Fourth Avenue underpass in the company of drummers, dancers, and walking skeletons, watching fire troupe Flam Chen do their amazing thing at the loading docks, and I am hearing rumors of a surprise appearance by Calexico. I hope to see you down there, and I’ll be seeing you here tomorrow as well. I have more than a few tales to tell about life on the road with the Meteorite Men.

Learn more about Tucson’s All Souls Procession