Terry Mulert is an artist living in Cordova, one village down the mountain from Truchas. And he is a friend of mine. He’s one of the brightest people I know, with a fiercely analytical mind. He’s lived and farmed here for over two decades so his experience of place runs deep. He recently wrote a response to my post How to Open an Art Gallery (see previous post How to Open an Art Gallery) that I felt deserved a considered answer. This is my answer.
First, here is Terry’s letter to me:
“As much as I try to resist (you know you can block me on FB and your blog!), I cannot. Blogs are supposed to generate some reaction, I think, so I am an actor in that context.
Posting a blueprint for opening a gallery in Truchas seems innocent but to me shows insensitivity to the decades of conflict evident in that town regarding contentious relations between long-time established residents (some call them ‘locals,’ a term I find demeaning and a not-so-veiled characteristic of hegemonic patrimony) and more recently arrived residents (some call them ‘newcomers’ – an equally dissatisfying term for me, or worse appellations are applied).
Simply put, nuance and subtlety go a long way in nurturing healthy relationships in a highly charged and culturally politicized context. Aspects of economic opportunity, education and overall community health come into play. You might re-title your post “How to Perpetuate Conflict in a Rural Mountain Village.” I find that it flaunts the divide.
The median income in Rio Arriba county is about $19,000 per year. I know Truchas and Cordova fall well below that. The last census put Cordova at $13,000. Federal guidelines place official poverty level for a family of 4 at about $24,000 and it should be higher.
It’s complicated but at a quick glance, you can see the situation is absolutely dire. It is staggering to really think of it in terms of other factors such as utility costs, transportation costs, nutrition, health care and educational and employment opportunities. About 20% of Rio Arribans live in perpetual poverty and I know Truchas and Cordova are well above that mark. 16% of Rio Arribans have a Bachelor’s degree or higher though my colleague claims that number is way inflated. 12% are ‘white
non-hispanic.’The “How to open a gallery in Truchas” essay accompanied by pics of braised tuna and linguini with lobster sauce, not to mention images of grampo’s old adobe transformed into the essence of elegance…well, let’s just say I find it to be provocative.
I do not object to the gallery, the beauty, the lifestyle, the economic opportunity you have created for yourself, the world you have created… I object to the reproduction of a cultural divide perpetuated by the one dimensionality of this post. I am concerned by the reproduction of class conflict perpetuated here.
What ideology is at work? Whose culture? Whose history? Whose economy? I believe that your gallery in Truchas is not a neutral act, Jeane. It is a political, cultural and economic act. To what extent do we participate in the social arrangements, the social order of our communities?
I recently read a critique of liberal ideology (written by a neo-marxist) that the collective commitment to social, economic and educational progress is hindered by an inadequate sense of relationships to each other within our communities and without. I think artists have a responsibility just like other agents with special skills and abilities to truly explore the nature of social order.
I would like to respectfully suggest that we examine to what degree we as ‘intellectuals’ legitimate an economic and social stratification that becomes exclusive and elite rather than inclusive. I know you personally, Jeane. I know you are one of the most generous people on earth. At the same time, I cannot ignore the provocative nature of this post. It is such an important subject and one that I am very interested in.” -TM
First of all I want to thank Terry for his response to my post. It means a lot to me that he is regularly reading the blog and is engaged with it. Much of what he says is true—certainly the statistics are. But some of his assumptions about both the blog and me are not.
The first misunderstanding—a rather major one—is that my previous post was about how to open a gallery in Truchas, as Terry indicates a couple of times. It is actually about how to open a gallery in your own area—wherever you may live. As far as I know, all the artists living in Truchas who want to have their own galleries already do.
Secondly, my blog is not a political blog. In fact it is much lighter fare and its scope is limited by design. I write about what I know: my life as an artist, adding profiles of fellow artists, in the hopes we may inspire others. While I touch on the history of this place from time to time (see previous post A Little Mountain History) the focus of my site is simply an examination of my own life and experiences—its ups and its downs—what I do, how I do it. And, while I accept that there is some responsibility for the words I put out into the blogosphere, I truly don’t believe anything I’ve posted on my blog is capable of doing harm.
I, personally, think Terry should start his own blog to write about and cover the issues he is bringing up on mine. They are valid and interesting issues and Terry, clearly, has the knowledge to discuss them. If I have learned anything about writing a blog it is that the blogger must remain true to their own voice. My blog is my voice. It is impossible for me to be genuine using any other. I never set out to write about the conflict in these villages. It simply is not in me to do.
However, I live as respectfully and gently as I know how to do here. I consider it a privilege to be on this land and would never intentionally do anything to dishonor it. I get along well with my neighbors and have offered free art lessons to their children and grandchildren—one small thing I can do. I support the library and the clinic. I have participated in paying for certain water lines. I buy wood every year from my neighbor, Walter. His dream to live on his family’s land out against the land grant was realized, in part, because I brought electricity out to my home, allowing him to build his nearby. I hire friends and neighbors to do projects I can’t do, like fabricating and welding a gate for the back of my property, digging trenches with back hoes, grading my road, plowing it in winter. With permission, I have bought hay and grain to feed livestock when neighbors were in crisis. It’s true I don’t farm. I don’t grow alfalfa or raise my own meat. I don’t use my allotted surface water rights which is, perhaps, disrespectful of the land. But I’ve believed my farming neighbors needed it more. I live here in ways that I understand, that are inherent to me, that I am capable of. But that doesn’t mean I am disrespectful or that I cause harm.
As to our gallery, our landlord interviewed us and thought carefully before renting it out. Once he was assured that we would treat his family’s home with respect, he decided to give us a try. He’s been by many times since and is very happy with everything we’ve done and are doing. The rental of his property to us, provides him with some income and regular upkeep of his family’s home. His mother, who was born in this house, has come by for a tour. Standing in the main room, a smile growing on her lips, she said she wished her father was alive to see what we have done to honor their home. Others in the community have dropped in to say it does their hearts good to see this beautiful old place being brought back to life. They often stay to tell stories of times spent within these walls. I truly don’t see how what we are doing “flaunts the divide.”
Regarding poverty, yes, the villages are very, very poor. And, while our circumstances may be different, I live on a limited income too. I have no investments or pension plans. I don’t draw social security. Everything I had went into creating a life for myself here. Perhaps my “poverty” is, in some ways, a choice, but my neighbors understand and respect that I make do on limited means, too, and they don’t seem to judge me for my different circumstances.
I’ll admit that, in Terry’s context, I was at first embarrassed about my reference to our sumptuous meal at the Trading Post Cafe. This particular meal was a gift (although we do save up money to go there when we’re in Taos because it’s a special treat and we love it). But even in his context, I just can’t believe it’s wrong to sometimes enjoy an excellent meal out when we can, or to write about it on the blog. While it may point out different priorities, histories and circumstances (I don’t buy front loaders or tractors), are we really meant to live falsely—to pretend to be someone we’re not—out of an attempt to somehow equalize our situations? Is that really respectful? And does it do anybody any good? The audience that reads my blog is interested in things like what restaurants to try when they’re in the area, and restaurant owners and staff are endeavoring to make a living too.
In fact I write about local restaurants, galleries and non profits in the hope it may bring them some business. The fates of the people who have lived here for generations, those who continue to farm, are more tied to the land—to water—to how much snow and rain we get each year. That dictates whether or not they can grow enough grain to feed their animals. There is nothing I can do about that except continue to be the best neighbor I know how to be. While the blog does nothing to support the local farmer, it is my hope that it may, ultimately, bring income to my fellow working artists, shop keepers and restaurant people. This, in turn, could create new jobs for others who want to work within the villages. I am only one person and can only touch those things I am capable of touching.
I interviewed Lisa Trujillo of Centinela Traditional Arts about a year ago (see previous post Centinela Traditional Arts, Part 1). She married into a remarkable weaving family. Her husband, Irvin, is a seventh generation weaver and Lisa is, herself, now a master weaver. I want to excerpt a section of that interview which touches on the difficult issues Terry brings up:
“Lisa acknowledges the gift and the privilege of coming into such a rich legacy, and also the responsibility. It is Irvin’s family heritage and everything it stands for means so much. ‘He has extended family that ARE this place’, she says, and the fact that she’s the one who gets to live here when they’ve had to leave in order to earn their livings, weighs on her. ‘I am here, doing this thing,’ she says, ‘and it feels sacred in a different way than the creative process is. All these people put so much work into this land. They stayed here. They suffered here. There’s a responsibility to those people—both the people that have passed and the people that are still around—and I do take that seriously.’ She’s made choices that she’s hoping are OK: Her Spanish isn’t good, she’s not out there farming, she’s not pruning… But she is consciously bringing something of herself into the mix. ‘I think those of us who move in have to have a lot of respect, but there must be a balance too. You have to understand, but you also have to create this in your own way. It’s still me and I have to be a factor—-my history is a part of me and somehow the history of this place is part of me. I have to take everything and make it a complete and healthy whole. I have to be true to the place and the people and myself and my family and my own personal legacy. I have to make it real and I have to make it honest. I must respect my own heritage in order to make it authentic.’”
That’s exactly what I am trying to do.
Love to you all,
Jeane
Very well put Jeane:) Thanks!
Thanks Grace.
Hi Jeane,
I find this an interesting and worthy discussion in the context of New Mexico and certainly appreciate the views expressed on both sides. As artists we have an opportunity to highlight the issues that Terry brings up, as well as to choose sides and to advocate directly and powerfully if we wish. Indeed, doing so is almost unavoidable because of the very nature of our profession where we place our voice, no matter the medium of choice, into the public arena. We are thinkers intrinsically which, injected into the context of community, can only be beneficial to the whole. The divide between rich and poor can only be addressed long-term through education, but as part of the intelligentsia we are naturally an agent in such a process. Art is inherently revolutionary, which is why repressive governments and dictators have always tried to control it. On a personal note, through reading your blog posts, there is not a shred of doubt in my mind that you, Jeane, are utterly and completely on the side of equality, justice and human rights for all. !Viva el arte y viva el artista! Keep up the good work, Janice
Hi Janice–
I want to thank you so much for your thoughtful response and for your belief in me. I dearly hope I can live up to that. Everything you say is so powerfully true. That we may take up sides and advocate directly, if we wish, is an important point. It is, after all, a choice. But, as you also note, as artists, it is almost unavoidable. When we put our art out there, we are taking a stand, some stand, in the public arena. We put our souls into our art and it is infused with our intention. I don’t think deep art could be otherwise. That, as Terry says, is not a neutral act.
There is so much in this world that needs careful tending, not the least of which is the divide between rich and poor. I agree that the only long-term solution is education. But there are things each of us can do within the scope of our own lives. Terry makes excellent points and has helped to elevate the conversation on the blog. He has also invited me to take a closer look at, if nothing else, the language I use. As we think, so we become, as the Buddha said. I will never have Terry’s sensibilities because we are different people. I don’t have his incisive mind. But I can take his response to heart and be more sensitive to the cultural issues of this place I call home.
Jeane,
Jeane,
Terry’s comments could apply anywhere. Socioeconomic inequities are not unique to Rio Arriba county. We must all be aware and actively compassionate where we can, without judgement, condescension or intrusion. That being said, I cannot accept that every aspect of my life or my art must be driven by a sense of personal culpability… nor should you. I don’t see your blog as provocative or exploitive. If anything your voice recognizes and respects the dignity and perseverance of the Trucheros who built this village and many others in the area. In my experience, they have been more generous and welcoming than I had any reason to expect. Your voice is true and your readers respect that.
Thank you, Craig. I appreciate your support of the blog. I know you’re a regular reader. Certainly it hasn’t been my intention to be provocative or to cause harm. But I do want to remain as aware as I can be of what it is I’m saying. I dearly hope that, as you say, my writing recognizes and respects the dignity and perseverance of the Trucheros. That has been my aim.
And I work very, very hard to be true to my own voice. I’m so glad you hear that. Thank you again.
Jeane,
I tentatively type this comment. My experience growing up Gringo in this most beautiful and subtly treacherous village is being stimulated by this blog post. The idealist in my soul, that has unconditional acceptance for all, never found it’s home there. There was, and clearly still is, deep sensitivity to racial and socioeconomic differences. It seems that you touched the soft sensitive wound that lies at the center of all communities like this. Communities filled with beauty, history, pride, and scarcity of resource. The ‘Other’ will always be a threat to the Integrity of the community, regardless of the value brought. There is no way to live in Northern New Mexico and not make someone uncomfortable. One’s Presence changes the tone of a culture, as all the galleries have. Those of us who came in the first white wave are shocked to see the permanence of the anglo presence when we come through town to visit our dead, our memories, our beginnings. Even we find ourselves condescending of the gentrification and change, even if it does bring dollars into the community in so many interconnected ways. Even if we were guilty of the same degrading influence ourselves. But Evolution happens, in us, and around us. So we must trust our hearts, and it sounds as if yours is pure to live in, and celebrate, the community that is changing rapidly since that road was paved. In this bustling world of freeways and intercontinental flight, it is important to remember that change is transforming this place where time has stood still, barely perceptible in the silence, for so long.
Zoe
Thank you, Zoe, for your thoughtful and beautifully constructed words. I am
also hesitant to put ink to paper in this delicate and stimulating
conversation. As a relative newcomer to New Mexico and as a person who
has lived in many countries all of my life, I long to put down roots, to
feel a friendship with place and to find peaceful linkage in a land
that so many have called home. Having felt a foreigner most everywhere, I
can’t help but note your choice of the word “Gringo.” At risk of adding
fuel to the fire, I am reminded of when I first saw those white carved
male heads at Mt. Rushmore in South Dakota. They were profoundly
offensive and a continuing reminder that we all walk in a space that was
sacred to others long before any of us arrived. Was it D.H. Lawrence,
living in Taos, who remarked about its wild yet vulnerable geography as
if it were a living, breathing entity that spoke to his human heart more
than England ever did? The inspiring terrain of this magnificent State,
with its Precambrian mountains thrust from the plains, its deserts and
its benevolent valleys where Pueblo Indians and Spanish farmers alike
have tilled the soil belongs to everyone and to no one all at once. It
and puts life into perspective and serves as a reminder that we are
actors on a stage that is larger than our individual selves.
Janice
Janice,
I used that word very consciously because I bore the title daily, in play, in school, in the minds of others. It was painful to me to bear it as I heard the derogatory tone but didn’t, as a young child, understand the source of the wound. I had to do my time on the therapist’s couch to attend to the pain of growing up in a community where I experienced deep love and connection from some of my neighbors balanced with the undercurrent of being an unwanted outsider, beaten on the playground and teased regularly. But it is still home, filled with beauty.
Zoe
To discover the finding place of language and the finding place of art, to give voice to our hurt is a process of liberation that clarifies
feelings into facts. Only then do we know the sweet kick of the Universe and the joy of being alive. Something like that maybe? Take care Zoe, Janice
I marvel, Zoe, every day, at the sacrifice made by others who paved the path for my arrival. Is that good or bad? I honestly don’t know. Still challenging today, it was so much harder when you were growing up here. While you didn’t suffer for my sake, I still owe you a debt of gratitude. And I will do everything I know how to do to honor the gift, intentionally given or not. I will continue to grow and live as consciously as I am able. I promise.
You could be one of my children, growing up in Central America. That was their life, but they were always reminded they were “Others” with more opportunity. That we came into their environment by choice was viewed suspiciously and with a slight undercurrent of contempt.
A beautifully put addition to this compelling conversation. Thank you Janice.
Janice! I had never thought of that perspective on Mt Rushmore! How can I be so blind?!
Thank you, Zoe, for such a truly beautiful letter. I’m sorry it’s taken me awhile to respond. I’ve been out of town. Your sensitivity to what was and what is, is presented so perfectly. Thank you for your vote of confidence toward me. I do understand that my “Presence changes the tone of a culture.” I can only hope that my footprint is small and tender, respectful of what I walk upon and among.
I had to smile one day about a year ago, driving in from the llano. I saw a “stranger” walking the road and my hackles were immediately up. What is SHE doing here? I wondered, and not in a friendly way. I want Truchas to remain unchanged, too, now that I am here! I can only imagine the discomfort of feeling one’s homeland intruded upon, whether for good or ill. For all that we celebrate change in this modern culture, it is always, always hard.
Jeane, thank you for posting Terry’s letter.
I didn’t read it as an attack on you in any way. He seemed to bend over backwards to be respectful and sensitive while sharing his perspective, but I know if I were you I’d have been defensive. (Because I always am!) So you are brave and good to share it. And I really appreciate Terry’s in put, wisdom, perspective. I’ve never read it put so well. What to do about it, how to live with it and out of it, is another matter, of course. Maybe Terry will address that.I wandered into a life in Truchas with such total unawareness, I could say stupidity, and thus, insensitivity, that I can hardly believe it. But when I found my husband dead in my house in progress and myself alone and in a downward spiral, it was my Hispanic neighbors who rescued me. And I don’t know what that says about me or them exactly, but I’m grateful. Meanwhile your blog was or is much richer for this exchange. Thank you to both you and Terry.
I would love to see Terry write more about this subject and others. He has a brilliant mind and is a great writer. And, I agree: The blog is much richer for this conversation.
I agree, Terry was thoughtful, expressive, and fair, while acknowledging in a very direct manor, a provocative subject. He has something to contribute to the blog, and also to reaching across the gap.
Gracious! Could you write more about your experience?
Ah, Jeane…you are gentle and generous. Be at peace in your home in the mountains. I know the people and the mountain and your love of the people and the land is not a distortion of reality. You come bringing gifts just as the Magi did when seeking the Christ-child. Your intent is one of true adoration. In my faith, we are taught to share with those around us the gifts given to us and you do share. “There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore I command you to be openhanded toward your brothers and toward the poor and needy in your land.” (Deuteronomy 15:11). What you give in the pursuit of art and beauty is no less important than those who are gifted to see the divisions in other areas and, in turn, use their own gifts to pursue social and economical and political equality. There is no exploitation in your blog. Pursue your gifts. Peace to you.
Thank you so very much for your belief in both the blog and in me. I’m sorry it’s taken so long to respond. I’ve been out of town. I am relieved that you see I mean no harm. And I love the thought that the pursuit of art and beauty is as important as an ability to see and deal with the divide. Sometimes I wonder. But today you give me hope. I deeply appreciate your kind words.
How absolute lovely and true.
Marvelous and needed dialogue here! I add needed because of the locale of where you live and create, Jeane. To relocate here, to buy land and build a home and renovate a gallery in a town with both healing and ‘treacherous’ (quoted from one of your readers) history is not as simple as say, Corrales or even Santa Fe. There are those who would say all art and creative expression is political, even if intended not to be. The place, the time, the intent, materials, the audience, the threads that connect both community and humanity-can and do create a political statement. But as I grow in my own understanding of ‘personal politics’, I learn from readers like Terry. The beauty and depth of your life and posts about Truchas and Northern NM aren’t any less real, valuable or inspired for not covering local news of overdoses, extreme poverty and daily disparity as it may exist. Some of us Anglos (I accept the term for me easily), will be the reporters that write about the villages, political corruption and other heartbreaking outrages and issues. Some of us like John Nichols in Taos will write extensively of historic village/pueblo water issues and legal wrangling. Some will write of rural disability culture issues in the state, and on and on. So many of us are bringing ‘ourselves’ to New Mexico with open eyes and hearts. I’ve learned not all artists that paint or create works are motivated by the political aspects and essence of their works, but by it’s process and the path it demands for their life. And I know artists who only create extremely political statements in their work, who would feel terrified at the open spaces and solitude of Truchas and it’s original residents. It’s all good. I for one do not read your blog to understand the local clash and flow of cultures among our state’s people. I come for the documentation of your journey, visually and through your words. I would LOVE to read more of Terry’s experiences and his brilliant framing of the northern villages’ issues. I’m awake to this dialogue, and think both of you have had a most respectful, yet firm exchange here, each telling your truths. I’m a visual designer who needs to be re-sparked with beauty and profundity and find HRA a place for this. But I’m also part of a large minority that has become politically active and assertive for basic human rights. I think your readers benefit strongly from your respectful gratitude that is always apparent to me in your communications here.
-Terri
Thank you, Terri, for your eloquent addition to this conversation. You note, perfectly, the diversity we each bring to our art and our lives. There is no one way; no one experience. I, too, would love to read more of Terry’s words about the life he leads in Cordova, and essays on the layers of politics and the cultural divide he speaks of so beautifully. But I am very grateful that you find something of meaning for yourself in what it is I am doing on the blog. I believe, as you do, that there is both room for and a need of all expression. Many blessings to you.
I apologize for never checking in on the emerging dialogue. I have posted a review of a book – the book is more important than my humble review naturally- read it if you can – that I have in Journal of American Folklore currently. I speaks to the issues that resonate here. -TM
Hi Terry–
Nice to hear from you. I think your comments opened a pretty interesting discussion.
I’ve gone onto the Journal of American Folklore online looking for your review but haven’t found it. Can you send a link?
Hi Jeane. I’m an artist in Vienna, VA, near D.C., and interested in moving out west, possibly to the Northern NM area [or not far outside it], maybe setting up a gallery. I think your Gallery is great! BTW, in response to Terry’s comments, I bet few if any gives a hoot whether you’ve been there 100 years or not. Sometimes you run into prejudice like that but so what? Your Gallery will bring life to the town. Congratulations! .
It’s very nice to hear from you but you may not have noticed the date on the original post. Though the gallery existed for three seasons, I became ill and we ended up having to close it. But it was very good while it lasted.
Re: moving to NM and starting a gallery, to be painfully honest, it isn’t very easy to earn one’s living, if that’s what you need. So it is something to carefully consider before acting. Terry was probably right: I was oversimplifying, urged on by the business manager of the blog, to write a fun post that would gain readers. It all needs to be taken more seriously, just so you know.
Time is relative as my Aunt used to say. I will watch my step, Thanks!