Arizona Travel - The Apache Trail

This is a piece that I wrote after we finished our project at the ASU Ceramic Research Center, I just never got around to posting it. And since I’m catching up on my blog work, here it is, just a couple of months late. It's basically a timeless Arizona travel piece. Or it could be titled what to do should you find yourself stuck in Phoenix for a few days.

On our way home from Phoenix we took an extra day to drive that is known as the Apache Trail. I wanted to write something descriptive and poetic about the beauty of the winter desert, but it proved to be just too laborious and my efforts simply went nowhere. So gave up any idea of writing a poetic piece and decided that it would be all the more sensible to give you description of how to do the drive yourself. It is not quite what you would call a “world class drive,” it falls a little short in that respect although Theodore Roosevelt called it "one of the most spectacular, best-worth-seeing sights of the world.” I would have to say that he over-stated it a tad bit, but it is still a great drive. I would add that it would be best during the cooler season and on a week day lest you run into a bazillion Phoenix recreationalists with their boats headed for one of the three reservoir lakes located along that route.

For anyone who lives in the frozen north or a densely crowded urban center, the vast spacious desert in winter light can be a fabulous contrast to a snow blanketed landscape. And if we are talking about the Sonoran Desert, it gets even better. The backlit vegetation and cacti can be incredible, the sculptural forms and colors of canyon walls exquisite and I'm absolutely convinced that the desert is quieter in the late afternoon of winter. And the winter light is nothing short of beyond adequate description.

Teddy Bear Cholla - Cylindropuntia Bigelovii

Continuing down the road are the historic mining towns of Globe, Miami and Superior, the principal ore has been copper. Just west of Superior is Boyce Thompson Arboretum, clearly one of the world’s finest desert botanical gardens that has also has some beautiful hiking trails. From there one can travel back to Phoenix or south to Tucson. For us it was Tucson and then back to Canelo.

There are a couple of ways to do the trip. One can do a long day long trip looping back on US60 to Phoenix via Globe. Or one can continue south from Globe to Tucson. We did it in two days spending the night at the Apache Lake Resort. Resort is a bit of an overstatement, nor is it an old hotel, but rather something that resembles a motel in a remote lake setting. The rooms were comfortable and the kind of restaurant to eat at on a day when you want to toss aside any thoughts of healthy organic food and simply go for it in the spirit of how grandma used to cook - ribs, hot roast beef sandwiches and decadent pies.

One gets to the Apache Trail by going east out of Phoenix on US 60 to Apache Junction. With the Superstition Mountains in the distance, AZ 88 begins. A few miles up the road comes to Lost Dutchman Sate Park that also marks the beginning of the Superstition Wilderness. Depending with whom you talk, many Indians considered the mountains to be a mysterious and somewhat evil place that should be avoided at all costs. For others it held the fascination of searching out the location of the never-revealed Lost Dutchman’s fabled gold mine. As a child I can remember hearing the stories of all those who went in search of the mine and never returned.

Another 12 miles up the road one arrives at the small historic town of Tortilla Flat, the last remaining stagecoach stop on the Apache Trail that now consists of a small store and restaurant. It is rather inconspicuous, but for me it brings up memories of Steinbeck's novel, and for an almost legendary apartment that I shared with my old college roomate Phil Hagenah, that we called "Tortilla Flat - Tequila and Tea Club." It is there that the pavement ends, but the gravel road that continues is in very good condition.

Tortilla Flat Store

The Apache Trail maneuvers its way through canyons and an abundance of saguaro cactus forests. There may be no better place to see a dense stand of the famous cactus. The road passes Canyon and Apache lakes and ends with Roosevelt Lake. These three lakes were created by creating dams along the Salt River to supply water to the modern metropolis of Phoenix. To be very honest I haven’t visited them since my college days of wall-to-wall Budweiser and as you might guess, I have a totally different appreciation for them at this point in my life. It is also a good idea to put aside any thoughts and objections to the fact that these dams have disrupted a beautiful river canyon and make modern day Phoenix possible. Nonetheless, the lake landscape is beautiful, man-made or not.

Canyon Lake

Saguaros and Cottonwood trees.

Fish Creek Canyon, midway between Canyon and Apache Lakes endlessly beckons that you to park the car and take a hike through the many side canyons with their caves and prehistoric ruins. Roosevelt Lake is last on the Apache Trail, nearby is Tonto National Monument featuring two cliff dwellings once occupied by the prehistoric Salado people. Call for information on tours of the ruins as they are available only on certain days, 928-467-2241. Otherwise the lower ruins can be viewed from a short distance.

Roosevelt Lake in the distance.

Continuing down the road are the historic mining towns of Globe, Miami and Superior, the principal ore has been copper. Just west of Superior is Boyce Thompson Arboretum, clearly one of the world’s finest desert botanical gardens that has also has some beautiful hiking trails. From there one can travel back to Phoenix or south to Tucson. For us it was Tucson and then back to Canelo.

There are a couple of ways to do the trip. One can do a long day long trip looping back on US60 to Phoenix via Globe. Or one can continue south from Globe to Tucson. We did it in two days spending the night at the Apache Lake Resort. Resort is a bit of an overstatement, nor is it an old hotel, but rather something that resembles a motel in a remote lake setting. The rooms were comfortable and the kind of restaurant to eat at on a day when you want to toss aside any thoughts of healthy organic food and simply go for it in the spirit of how grandma used to cook - ribs, hot roast beef sandwiches and decadent pies.

A sign you wouldn't see in Europe, Apache Lake Resort restaurant.

The Rio Sonora Valley

Recently we spent a week in a somewhat remote area in northern Mexico known as the Rio Sonora Valley. It has little to do with the Mexico most people imagine, there are no Margaritas, chips and salsa and the violence that has plagued many of the border cities seems far removed. Until the 1970s, when a paved road was constructed, the upper and middle Rio Sonora Valley remained mostly isolated with a subsistence economy.

The old road used to follow the river or better said, in some parts it went through the river. On our last trip we followed about a 20 mile stretch of the old road taking turns sitting in the roof rack of our old suburban.

A way of life that had persisted there for hundreds of years remained largely unchanged. With the road came such things as television reception, electricity, comprehensive bus service and a changing economy that was increasingly wage driven. A tax levied on the flour mills along the river forced them to close. I found a comment by one of the local women, in a field report by anthropologist Jean Simonelli, that for me, vividly described the change in lifestyle that resulted.

“What good does it do us? (The high rainfall of that summer.) Once we grew wheat, and we took it to the mill at El Bagote, where they ground it for us. The flour was fresh and wholesome; it came from our fields; there was enough for everybody. Now, we have no mill. If we grow wheat, the CONASUPO buys it all. In return, they send us last year’s flour, full of bugs and costing sixty pesos a kilo. We can barely afford to buy it. I have six children to feed. There’s no work for the men.”

The old mill at Banamichi, Sonora.

Despite the changes brought by the road, there is something about the Rio Sonora Valley that is captivating. It is a place to which we frequently return. Some of that has to do with the fact that the blood of the people who inhabit that area flows in my veins. My grandfather, the son of a French adventurer/soldier who had come to Mexico, was born in one of the small towns along the River called Banamichi, which in the language of the Opata, the original inhabitants of the area, means “where the river turns.” The other reasons we return ranges from the beauty of the landscape and geography; the way of life that still has remnants of a subsistence economy not too far in the distant past; and like most captivating places – the local foods and Sonora’s classic mescal Bacanora. Perhaps what attracts us the most is that life is still simpler there, less dependent on machines, animals are still used to work the land, it just feels good to be there.

Unique about the Rio Sonora is that it is difficult to find a river in the southwestern part of North America that hasn’t gone dry due to the overdraft of groundwater, isn’t deeply eroded and still has the capacity to sustain the lives of the people who live along it. For this part of the world, that is rare.

Fields and bajadas along the river.

A number of towns along the river have missions dating back to the 1600s. Unlike many parts of Mexico, the Catholic church is still central to the people’s lives. The way of life might be described as a “cultura ganadera,” a culture that for the most part is centered on cattle. And yet, the line that typically divides cowboys and farmers is totally blurred, the people of the Rio Sonora don’t distinguish between the two. They are one and the same.

The mission at Aconchi, Sonora. The town was founded in the early 1600s and presumably the mission around the same time.

Horses still remain a part of everyday life.

This year we were fortunate to receive a small grant that will allow us to photograph life along the River. It is modest, but enough to get us fully invested to the point we can’t give it up. Our focus is to capture vestiges of the older disappearing lifestyle and at the same time, document the modern changes that are taking place. We began this past December and will continue throughout the different seasons of the year. Our base is the town of Banamichi, where we are being provided lodging by Bill Harmsen and his wife Irma, at their lovely hotel, La Posada del Rio Sonora - www.laposadadelriosonora.com. The eventual use of the photos has yet to be determined. All the usual options are possible, a book, websites and the like. It allows for a great amount of photographic freedom in a place overflowing with beautiful imagery. In the spirit of the words of the old classic black and white photographer Henri Cartier Bresson, it’s an easy place to get “one’s head, eye and heart on the same axis.”

La Posada on the Banamichi plaza.

During the course of the year we’ll make additional posts about our travels in the area. Most likely, they will mainly be comprised of photos, keeping writing to a minimum. I really don’t enjoy being in the position of trying to write about an area where I really know little of the history, culture and geography. There are certainly people much more capable than I. However, what I will do is to give you our impressions of the places we visit, and the people we meet. That I can do.

The Maldonados of La Estancia, Sonora.

Before posting any photos I should tell you a little about the landscape. Basically it’s a transition zone between the Sierra Madre of Chihuahua and the coastal plain of the Sonoran Desert. The Sonora River Valley consists of narrow floodplains ranging from 1 km to about 4 km in width. It is flanked by mountains on both sides and bordered by what are called bajadas, alluvial deposits dissected by dry river beds known as arroyos, that overlook the floodplain and are typically where towns and settlements are located. These are also what many people in this part of the world refer to as mesas. The middle and upper Valley, which is the area of our concern, consists of Sonoran Desert vegetation at the lower elevations and oak grasslands, like the area where we live, in the upper regions. Winters are mild, frost is rare in the middle section of the Valley, two unpredictable rainy seasons are the norm – the equipatas of the winter and the monsoon driven las aguas that begin the end of June and continue through the month of August.

The website for the valley gives a good overview of the towns and their facilities. http://www.riosonora.com/index.html

Overlooking the Valley from the mountains above Baviacora, Sonora.

Hopefully, through these posts, we will share a little of this special place and it’s people that continues to capture our hearts and so joyfully enrich our lives.

Our son Kalin with bike riding the the roads amongst the fields of Banamichi.

Beautiful paper thin "tortillas grandes," being made in a backyard in Ojo de Agua, Sonora.

"Taqueria" at the recent town fiesta of Baviacora, Sonora.

December Guests from Japan to Canelo

Thinking back over the past year, I thought about writing a summary of all that we’ve done and for a number of reasons that didn’t hold much appeal for me. My posts to this blog over the last year accomplish that so I thought why bother. In exploring my options, I started looking back over the past twenty years that Athena and I have been building together. I guess that is an accomplishment in itself in that many couples can’t seem to get through one building project together. We’ve certainly had our share of disagreements and disappointments over the years, but I have to say, we’re most fortunate in that we’ve had a great deal of fun doing what we do and we are still enjoying what we’re doing – perhaps more than ever.

Our lives together have never been what you would call practical or sensible. Can’t tell you how many people over the years have commented exactly that when it came to most of the things we do. There are times when I think the same, but all in all, we keep going with what seems to be increasing dedication and focus to our work, whatever that is, and to each other.

The success of our book, “The Straw Bale House,” set us into a pattern of ongoing workshops and straw bale building projects that to this day remains a big part of what we do. At the same time, we are somewhat less known for that which we enjoying most – working with clay. Our approach to straw bale has, from the beginning, been one of the marrying that material with clay in every way possible, notably with plasters, paints, furniture and floors. In essence, we are continually in the process of evolving well insulated, beautifully built clay and straw buildings. What’s so very satisfying about that these materials is that they seem to offer an infinite pallet of possibilities. Not only is that satisfying in terms of our own learning experience, but for teaching and helping others in their efforts.

Over the years our pursuits have given us the opportunity to work with many wonderful and fascinating people, including their families. We have explored a wide variety of methods, absorbing much of it into the way we work today. It would probably be accurate to say that our major influences have been all that we learned while working in Mexico and the time we’ve spent with Japanese plaster craftsmen. Interestingly enough, when it comes to methods, the two are at opposite ends of the spectrum. The Mexican is forever devising ingenious ways of making do with nothing in terms of tools and resources. The Japanese on the other hand seem to have a tool for everything as well as access to an abundance of materials and techniques. In short, both have their place and value. When it comes to our heads and hands I’m not quite sure how all that translates, but I can say that we are much more versatile and flexible in our work as a result of having been exposed to those diametrically opposed influences.

Currently our life seems to flip back and forth between those two countries in combination with the experiences we had last summer in Europe. The most recent chapter in our ongoing quest for more knowledge and skill brought to Canelo a pair of visitors from Japan. Kyle Holzhueter, a young American, currently a graduate student in Japan, is researching straw bale building in Japan. You can follow his blog at http://holzhueter.blogspot.com/ He came to visit us in Canelo this last December, bringing with him a young Japanese plaster craftsman named Keisuke NODA of Noda Plaster Works 自然の家職づくり人ネット, known to us simply as Noda-san. At the same time we were joined by Tom and Satomi Lander, our good friends and Japanese trowel merchants from Kingston, New Mexico – www.landerland.com

We spent a week together reviewing the basics of Japanese plastering methods, learning some new techniques with lime, Italian for that matter and for Kyle and Noda-san's benefit, going over the basics of how we build with straw bales and clay. International events like this one are what feed us and inspire us. They bring us into contact with new friends, provide us with new learning experiences and not least by any means, new varieties of food and drink. I can’t share much in terms of plaster recipes in that Noda-san requested that they not be published. That probably doesn’t matter much in that the lime plaster techniques he shared had more to do with the method of application rather than ratios of materials. Here are a series of photos that capture the spirit of our week together.

Keisuke NODA

Kyle, Nodasan, Satomi and Tom Lander, our son Benito and Athena

Noda-san applying a simple clay, sand and straw plaster known as the "nakanuri" coat in Japan. We set up practice boards for each of us which makes it easier to attain the type of flat wall the Japanese traditionally prefer. Having had some training in Japanese application techniques, this was like going back to school to learn more and refine what we already knew. Since most people live in an environment surrounded by flat walls, many tend to dismiss the importance the Japanese place on being able to achieve a perfectly flat wall. For us it has been a tremendous discipline and as a result I would have to say that we are much more skilled and versatile. Consequently, our ability to achieve much more interesting curved and rounded walls is also greatly improved.

O

Once we had finished our review of basic plaster techniques, we moved on to Noda-san demonstrating a variety of different plasters. Two of these were based on Italian techniques taught to Noda-san by his mentor, a brilliant young Japanese plasterer named Naoki Akira. These samples were done on drywall over which a base of powdered gypsum (hot mud) 90 minute set plaster to which a small amount of tylose and silica sand was added. The idea was to get a perfectly flat and smooth base. After that a lime plaster coat was applied. A very small amount of sand was added to this that ranged in size from .25 to .6 mm. The sand by weight would have been about 10 percent of the lime. Again, a small amount of methylcellulose or tylose was added and then all mixed together with water that consisted of a little more than 10% glue, in this case, concrete bonder. The idea was to apply the plaster in two passes, finishing by pulling the plaster tight against the board to let the grains of sand come through. Noda-san used a cross-hatch pattern, but we also did a arced pattern that turned out very nice. This coat is important in that it determines the pattern that will show through on the finish. Of course it can be made entirely smooth for a very glossy look.

Once this is dry, the last coat is applied that consisted of lime sifted through a 1mm screen, ultramarine blue pigment, methylcellulose/tylose and water with glue. No sand in this last coat. All of these mixes were of a very soupy consistency, applied first with a flexible metal trowel and then finished with plastic trowels. At the end, olive oil is applied and then polished with a soft cloth.

Finished plaster before the olive oil was applied.

By having the sand in the base coat of lime plaster and repeating the arced pattern, the final finish had a slightly textured feel, very much like the stubble of a beard although it was highly polished.

The second Italian plaster that we did repeated the same processes for the base coats that we had done with the blue plaster although the white coat was tinted an orange color. Over this, Noda-san used a block of beeswax to make little wax marks over the entire surface of the plaster.

Virtually identical to the blue lime plaster mix, a lime plaster with black pigment was prepared to go over the wax and lime base coat.

This technique resulted in a very beautiful polished black lime plaster over the textured base.

It's very much fun to watch our children growing-up/learning and being exposed to all that comes through our doors. Here's our 9 year old Kalin learning the "nakanuri" technique or better said, his version of it.

One of the things we did was to build a sample of a small straw bale wall, the way we do it, so that Kyle could take a look at how we've integrated straw bales and clay plasters. Here, with Tom Lander, they're tying vertical lengths of bamboo to the bale wall.

One of the things that I was curious to see was how Noda-san would apply the thick clay and straw plaster that we use on our straw bale walls. Typically, this coat we apply anywhere from an inch to an inch and a half thick. For all practical purposes it is identical to what the Japanese use as a base coat over their bamboo lath walls that they call "arakabe." For ease we have taught our students to apply this mix using their hands and wood floats. However, the Japanese craftsmen do it with a trowel in a motion that is not unlike slapping it on the wall in vertical and downward motion with a large quantity of mix. Whenever possible we age this mix as long as we can, the mix Noda-san is applying in this photo had been aged for almost a year. The aging process makes the mix more water-resistant, stronger and more plastic.

Once applied, the "arakabe" or straw/clay plaster is finished with "keys" for the next coat using a trowel and then textured with a broom.

During his visit, Noda-san wanted to make sure that he got a good taste of what he considered to be American culture. His list of things to do included driving our old pickup, shooting a gun, ordering a hamburger all by himself and of course your normal sightseeing/shopping type stuff. With great enthusiasm he proved to be a first class tourist.

It was a truly a fabulous week ending with Kyle wanting to return to Canelo in the future and perhaps start a regular visitation program to Canelo with groups from Japan. Sometime in the near future, Kyle will be writing a guest piece for The Canelo Chronicles on his work and studies in Japan. Noda-san said good-bye repeatedly letting us know that he would be returning soon.

Canelo Winter

This winter has kept us busy enough to make it difficult to find the kind of leisure I enjoy when it comes to creating posts to this blog. After our project at the Ceramic Research Center in Tempe, Arizona, we spent a week in the upper Rio Sonora river valley, a little known part of northern Sonora, Mexico, photographing the small towns and people. I’ll write about that later in that we will be making repeated trips over the course of the year. In December we hosted a pair of visitors from Japan, that is the subject of my next post. After the holidays we hosted a workshop for a friend and have had visitors galore and a series of storms that dropped more rainfall and snow than we have had in many a moon. We usually can expect several snowfalls a year here at our 5,000 ft elevation in southeastern Arizona, typically not much more than an inch or two, but this time we received a generous four inches. I’m not much of a fan of ultra cold winters, never have been. Skiing and snow boarding don’t hold much attraction for me. I do love the snow, but also love how quickly it vanishes, soaking the moisture into the ground. Except for pockets of snow in the shade, most was gone by late afternoon. I thought I would share a sequence of photos from that day with you.

The Mustang Mountains, east of our home.

Mid-morning after evening snow.

Our work buildings covered in snow.

With the sun setting the same day, most of the snow has gone.

The "How To" of Native Confluences

Since writing about our project at Arizona State University’s Ceramic Research Center I’ve had a number of requests to talk in a little more detail about some of the methods and techniques that we used on the project. So I thought I would do exactly that. I’m a little late in that I had intended to publish this before we left on a recent trip to Mexico, but the clock ran out on me. Anyhow, here is an overview of some of the methods we used.

Ceramic Research Center Main Room at Arizona State University.

Whenever we get a project like this in a different city, a place we know little about, the big question is always materials. The first thing on the list is always finding clay. Phoenix was pretty easy in this respect, first of all we didn’t need much clay, the second being that I knew there was a brick factory not far from where we were working. As a base material we got a yard of clay from the Phoenix Brick Yard. To round out our pallet, we brought a two 5 gallon buckets of different clays to give us variation in color. For sand I got a yard of coarse sand from a sand and gravel company, we brought with us several bags of both 30 grit and 60 grit silica sand. Chopped straw can be a problem, especially finely chopped straw, so whenever possible we bring it with us. For this project we brought two contractor plastic bags full.

Once we have our hands on those basic materials we can do just about anything. The other things we used were reed mats that we find in the garden section at Lowes, several 1 inch diameter bamboo poles and the straw wattles that are used for erosion control. Those we found at Arizona Bag Company.

Straw wattle sculpture with Nora Naranjo Morse sculptures.

Let me talk about the drywall first. It was actually fun playing with an additional layer over the original drywall. It opened up what seemed like endless possibilities of patterns and textures while adding to the interior mass of a room. I never thought I would look forward to working with more drywall, but to tell the truth, I’m definitely interested in doing exactly that. Typically, we use fiberglass tape over the joints, joint compound has given us problems in the past so I avoid it whenever possible. In this case we didn’t bother in that the project would be short lived and disassembled. We are discovering that in the art world, one has the luxury to do all sorts of things that don’t make much sense in the normal everyday world such as letting the cracks appear through the plaster. Another great thing about the drywall was playing with all the lines and angles and if you look at some of the photos you will see that the project was very much about changing lines and patterns.

Split bamboo strips covering a strip of burlap.

When permanency is an issue we like to use some sort of adhesive to adhere the clay plaster to the drywall. What we use depends upon where we are and the urgency. Away from home, little access to other materials and little time to finish we rely on concrete bonder available at most building supply outlets. Paint it on the wall and plaster over while still wet. We have been using soy resin glue available through a friend that was producing clay paints, but she has closed down her operations so that is no longer an option. Casein glue is easy to make so is probably our next choice.

Call it a drywall truth window through the plaster.

As for the drywall plaster mixes they were very simple. 1 part of the Phoenix Brick Yard clay to 1 ½ parts 30 grit silica sand, no straw. We typically plaster a single coat of plaster in two passes. The first pass establishes the connection between the drywall and the plaster, we apply it tightly with a small amount of pressure not wanting to get an uneven build-up. The second pass, once the first has started to dry, fills in the low spots and evens out the finish. We typically thin the mix with water for this pass. If a really smooth finish is desired we’ll reduce the percentage of sand, often to as little as 50% of the amount of clay. For the red plaster we used a bagged Laguna clay called C Red, ratio was 1 clay to 1 ½ 30 grit silica. You can also see an orange plaster, that was done the same way, but by blending the C Red with the Phoenix Brick Yard material. I really need to stress that these proportions are not fixed in stone and will vary depending upon thickness of the plaster and the use. The other thing to realize is that the same mix in the hands of different people may yield very different results. Application techniques play a big part in the final outcome.

Sample plasters on the drywall.

What you might call our most commonly used plaster - clay, sand and chopped straw, sponged back to reveal the aggregate and straw.

There are many ways of achieving a smooth wall finish, given a choice, we work with trowels, our preference being trowels from Japan. Not only do they make the plaster-work easier, they make it much more enjoyable. To borrow an analogy from my good email friend Rob Tom, whom I have never met, most western trowels make plastering feel like shaving with a lawn mower. For the first pass I usually prefer a stainless trowel of medium rigidity, rectangular in shape. For the second pass a slightly smaller stainless trowel that is more flexible and trapezoidal in shape. The first trowel is usually between 225 and 240 mm or between 8 ½ and 9 ½ inches. The second is slightly smaller, between 180 and 210 mm or between 7 and 8 inches. Don’t get mistaken, I’m not saying that these are the best trowels for this type or work, but rather they are ones that I prefer to use. In the States they are available through Tom and Satomi Lander of Landerland: http://landerland.com/Tools/trowel.html The two trowels I have described are the following:

No.17039 Kakugote Square Stainless Steel

No.17025T Trapezoid/flexible 0.3 mm Stainless Steel

We also used a couple of other small edging trowels for refinement. The Japanese have numerous tools for this purpose, they are shown in the group photo of trowels, they are available from the Landers.

As for the plaster with the great curves on the straw bale bench we used the same mix that we use as our base coat plaster on straw bale walls – 1 part clay and 1 part chopped straw, no sand. Typically we leave the surface rough and textured for finish coats of plaster, but in this case we worked it to a smooth finish. This has to be done in several stages, building it up, it is very moldable, and shaping it to whatever is desired. The first application we do with a standard rectangular wood float that we’ve cut the ends to a rounded shape like a pool trowel. The other tool that we’ve evolved to refine and create all the curves and edges is nothing more than a small wood float made from ½ inch plywood, rectangular with a point. Overall length is about 6 inches. Once the plaster has set (leather-hard) so that it can still be worked without changing the shape of the plaster, we use a rigid metal trowel to compress the plaster, smooth the finish and finish the edges. The tighter the curves, the smaller the trowel that is needed. Athena used a small Japanese trowel about 6 inches in length – 150 mm on this project. From the Landers this would be the trowel.

12002 135 Arakabegote/Nakanurigote

The Gray textured plaster was brushed on like a paint, two coats. The first coat was 1 part of a powdered gray clay that I got from the ceramic department of the university mixed with ½ part whiting or powdered limestone. This we followed with a mix of the same clay – 1 part to ½ part of a blend of 60 grit silica sand and mica flakes, dragging the brush diagonally to add direction to the texture.

Brushed gray clay paint.

The reeds we attached with our trusty Porter Cable stapler using ½ inch staples. Does a great job. For this we window screened some dirt that Athena’s aunt had used before on her project, applied it to the reeds with a rigid trowel and wiped away the excess with a yellow tile sponge to reveal the reeds. Once the clay had dried we applied a coat of 50% sun thickened linseed oil and 50% citrus thinner.

Reeds with clay fill.

Native Confluences: Sustaining Cultures

During the early part of November we had the opportunity to participate in fall program of Arizona State University's Art Museum entitled “Defining Sustainability.” We were grouped with two other artists in a project that was entitled “Native Confluences: Sustaining Cultures.” I’m not sure exactly what that meant, but we willingly participated by doing that which we naturally do – creating with clay and fibers. The first part of the installment was done by a group called “The Post Commodity Collective” comprised of several Native American artists, the second part by Athena’s aunt – Nora Naranjo Morse. What was intriguing was that it combined three different artist groups working together on one installment. Peter Held, curator of the Ceramic Research, explained our installment in this way: “It was part experimenting with different platforms of curating exhibitions, part with the involvement with native artists/themes working more as community than individually. I brainstormed with Nora quite a bit in the beginning so have to give her some credit as well. It was a learning curve for myself and the artists. I liked listening/participating on the decision making process with each group and that no one had true ownership of the work.”

It was the second week of November when we came to do our part in the project. The Post Commodity group had cut a 4x4 ft hole in the concrete floor of the museum and stood it upright on a pedestal. There was an audio recording of a Pee Posh social dance performed by the collective. We never met any members of the group or discussed with them anything about the meaning of what they had done. We went for what was probably the simplest interpretation - cutting through the concrete floor to get back to the earth below. Athena’s aunt Nora had created a series of clay and fabric sculptures that she called “Pods” that represented elements containing seeds or growth producing elements. We made no attempts to deepen our understanding what had happened before us and went to work.

When we viewed these pieces within the rather stark empty space of the museum, there was a feeling of emptiness and separation. It was not a warm and inviting environment by any means. The impression that came to us was that of two different artist groups having done their work each independent of the other. We never actually vocalized it, but I think all us including Athena, our son Benito and his girlfriend Ariela assumed that our job was to weave a thread of connection between all the pieces and to make the overall space more inviting and interesting.

The room at the Ceramic Research Center when we began.

Typical of how we work in most environments, we didn’t have a very clear idea of what we were going to do. We lined up the materials that we envisioned using – clay, chopped straw, bamboo poles, reed mats, straw bales and a new element we haven’t used before – straw wattles, that are typically used for erosion control. Peter Held, curator of the Ceramic Research Center where we worked, was a great help in acquiring what we needed. Even better for us was that curator Peter Held didn’t seem worried when I told him that we really wouldn’t know what we were going to do until we arrived. Perhaps this was somewhat due to after 20 years of working together, there is a shared intuitive understanding and confidence that continues to grow between Athena and I when we are working together that is communicated to those around us.

One thing was somewhat certain, much of our work takes place on walls so it seemed obvious to us that we would have to do something to the walls. The only requirement was for us to put up a buffer between the existing walls and whatever we would do. This was most easily done with another layer of drywall over the existing walls. We almost never work with so it was a challenge to make it fun rather than drudgery. In the interest of being somewhat whimsical and for visual interest we cut the tops into angular patterns of different heights. Over a small section of newly installed drywall we installed reed mats filled with clay and left the remaining areas for a sampling of different colored clay plasters.

The beginnings of our work with a group of students from the Orme school.

The other thing that seemed to be missing was a place to sit and absorb the setting. If there is anything Athena seems to like to do it’s making places to sit. Without so much as a brief pause, she snapped up the opportunity to sculpt a beautiful clay design over a grouping of straw bales. Over a day three day period she remained glued to that project.

Benito and Ariela building the straw bale bench.

Athena detailing the clay and straw plaster.

The rest of the walls are a sampling of different clay finishes. One accidental piece happened in the closing moments of the last day of work. We had put a square of burlap in the center of the walls which when everything else was complete, it became obvious that it just wasn’t working and we needed to do something with it. Out of desperation we decided to pull it off the wall, the great surprise was the drywall below mimicked the concrete slab that had been cut from the floor both in dimension and color. Seemed an appropriate coincidence so we left it as it was.

Front of the straw bale bench and drywall where burlap had been removed.

We had requested seven twenty five foot long straw wattles that are typically used for erosion control with no clear purpose in mind other than shaping them into some interesting configuration. At first images of nests, baskets, domes and the like came to mind, but given the tools at hand and the time constraints, we basically left the wattles to arrange themselves in a shape that seemed to fit their make-up. It wasn’t until the last day that we attempted to do anything with them and by then, all of us were busy finishing different segments of the installation. We engaged in some initial dialogue with museum curator Peter Held and once we had some agreement, turned the job of the wattles over to him who worked in concert with his son Matt, Benito and our nine year old Kalin.

Wattle sculpture with Nora Naranjo Morse pods to the right.

Benito staking wattles together.

Wattles as viewed from the front door entrance.

The wattles had come with wooden stakes, but they proved too large for connecting them so Kalin took them, painted them with clay and turned them into his own sculpture.

Kalin's clay painted wood stakes sculpture.

Another final piece that happened on the last day came about when our friends Joe and Rebecca Ewan, professors in ASU’s Landscape Architecture department, transformed the ground contained within the square where the concrete slab had been removed. Since the moment we had seen the empty space we felt the need to take it one more step and bring it alive with plant life. Almost magically they transformed it into mini replica of the Sonoran Desert landscape. Given our early interpretation of the empty hole, that of returning to the earth, the natural thing to do seemed to replace the vegetation and make it come alive.

The group at work with Joe and Rebecca Ewan installing Sonoran Desert plants.

As we finished the evening of our last day. Splotchy walls are from the plaster drying.

Looking back on our work last week, it seems almost magical how it came together. Our discussions consisted of brief moments of getting agreement between us all on such things as how to cut the angles of the sheetrock, how much reed to use, how to shape and construct the straw bale bench, what color and texture to make the plasters and how the new desert landscape would look. Everything moved fast with little deliberation. When all was said and done, the exhibit as a whole felt really marvelous, everything seemed to have a place. Athena’s aunt Nora’s pieces, that earlier had seemed without home, we comfortably nestled into corners and curves of the new environment. Twenty years ago when we first formed The Canelo Project, we coined the phrase “connecting people, culture and nature” to describe what it did. For us, our part in this installment seemed to make that phrase truly come alive.

Finished wall and bench.

Slovakia – The Workshop

Our workshop compound in Bucany, Slovakia as sketched by architect Radoslaw Barek of Poland.

Traveling south from Denmark, where half of our workshop had been very wet and a tad bit cold, we looked forward to warmer and drier weather in Slovakia. To the contrary, our workshop there was wetter than anyplace we visited or taught in Europe. It started raining shortly after we arrived and continued throughout the week. Don’t let any of the photos below with blue sunny skies fool you, there were moments of clear skies, but not many. There was a positive side to it all, we will never again fear having to teach clay work in the rain. To be quite honest, once my initial fear had subsided, I actually began to enjoy it. Whether steady downpour or a driving burst, the relentless Slovakian rain, once accepted, seemed to have a intoxicating quality that made this workshop very memorable.

Throughout our trip I did a search on Google to get some background information on any new destination. Bucany, Slovakia, the little town where our workshop was being held, yielded almost nothing with the exception of some mention about remnants of Celtic culture being found there. I still remember one site that invited me to be the first person to write something about Bucany. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I have any visual memories of the place. My memories go immediately to our workshop, avoiding the rain and working under tarps.

Our workshop location was a compound owned by Viliam Simek, an antique dealer in everyday life and an aspiring permaculturalist in the making. He would easily fall into the category of “one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet.” The main building where we stayed, ate and held evening talks was a rather large old house that served to house the overflow of antiques from his retail outlet. To the rear of the building was a large walled in area where we held the workshop.

Viliam Simek and daughter with workshop group.

Dinner at Viliam's permaculture-antique warehouse.

The participants of the Slovakian workshop were the same mix of nationalities that we had found in Estonia and Denmark, however, this group seemed to have more from the eastern European countries such as our old friend Paulina Wojclechowska of Poland who had worked with us years back in Mexico, Radoslaw Barek - architect and professor from Poland, the scientist Meszaros Attila from Hungary and others with equally complicated Eastern European type names. There were also five Germans in the workshop, all of them skilled with backgrounds in straw bale and earth plasters. We had just seen some very impressive straw bale buildings they had done in Germany at the eco-village Sieben Linden and it was fun to meet them in person.

The areas that we had available for hands-on training included a small old house - almost a ruin, a chicken coop built with a token of natural building techniques and a straw bale wall that was under construction when we arrived. The straw bale wall gave us an opportunity to apply the thick straw/clay plaster we typically use for our base coats on straw bale walls. Actually, we use it many other applications, but that is its most common use. We love the mix because we can fill out the walls to a depth of an inch or more all in one coat. Mixed well, it doesn't crack, is very strong and flexible and will wear slowly when exposed to rain. Depending upon the clay, the mixture is typically somewhere around 1 part clay, 1 chopped straw and 1/2 sand. If the clay soil we are using has naturally occurring sand or aggregate, we may not add any additional sand. It can be mixed by hand, by foot if there is a large enough container and with a mixer if extra water is added.

Viliam's natural building chicken coop.

Straw/clay plaster mix.

Applying the mix on one of those great Slovakian rainy mornings.

One coat of plaster applied.

The combination of weather conditions and limited workspaces presented us with a challenging set of circumstances. All things considered, our hostess Zuzana Kierulfova, had done a commendable job of coming up with a suitable location for a workshop where people could also be housed and fed especially considering that Slovakia doesn’t really have a tradition of straw bale or alternative building. After removing many layers of old and failing plaster from the old building, building enough of the straw bale wall to receive plaster and making preparations for wet weather, we created an environment suitable for teaching. Considering the condition of the old house when we arrived we were able to leave some very beautiful plaster work on the inside.

The basic clay we had to work with in Slovakia was beautiful, it was provided by a fellow who supplies local potters, very similar to what we found in Denmark. Michal Navratil, owner of “Picas,” a company that offers clay plasters and other raw materials, provided us with colored clays and the chopped straw we needed andwww.rigi.cz

Workshop group beginning a clay wall carving.

Detailing by Athena.

Finished carving.

One of the great things about our trip was discovering new tools that we don’t have back home in the States. The workshop in Slovakia added a couple to our list. When plastering existing buildings one inevitably encounters walls that need to be scraped or textured before another coat is applied. This particular tool was invaluable for preparing the walls in one of the rooms we used for the workshop to remove the cracked, dusty and failed plaster.

Wall scraper.

Another simple tool that was essentially a rough version of a stovetop sauce pan was this pan used to scoop and move plaster from buckets and tubs. The Slovakians traditionally used them to apply plaster but I have to admit that I wasn’t really impressed with the technique.

Slovakian plaster pots.

Another thing we noticed was that the price of tools in Slovakia seemed to be much less expensive. On a field trip to the old town of Trnava, instead of sightseeing, many from the group spent most of their time in the local hardware store buying tools.

Plasterer Barbara Foth loading up on tools.

Steffen Knofler with his new plaster screed keeping to the tradition of straight German walls.

Slovakia gave us the opportunity to work a little more with basic hawk and trowel skills than we had in Estonia and Denmark. There was enough time prior to the workshop to make Japanese style hawks for the entire group. This style of hawk is nothing short of extraordinarily functional, comfortable and easy to use. The western style hawk with its single pole pales in comparison. We have used nothing else since we were introduced to them some years back. These are available from our son Arjuna (Oso) through The Canelo Project for $25 plus shipping: www.caneloproject.com

Angela Granzotto and Sasha Ralcevich of Italy learning to use the trowel and hawk.

The mixes we used with these tools was very much the same as everywhere else we had been. For the most part it was by volume 1 part clay, 1 1/2 to 2 parts sand, 1/2 straw. This was what we typically use as the middle coat, however, with some extra detailing, it can serve as a finish coat. The sand and clay were screened to 1/8 inch or 3 mm.

When it comes to putting plaster on the wall, the same can be said for Japanese trowels. Admittedly, there are many different ways to apply plaster to a wall. In Mexico, as is the case in much of Europe, you can simply throw it on the wall with a mason's trowel, screed it to level, float it and be done. Much of the world uses their hands. However, if you are going to use a trowel, then Japanese trowels are far superior to anything we've ever used whether it be ergonomics or the type of finish they give. In addition, there are a broad range of sizes and types depending upon the need. The only place they can be easily acquired in the States is from Tom and Satomi Lander at: http://landerland.com/Tools/trowel.html Plus they will go way out of their way to talk and consult with you over trowel selection. It is possible to buy the thin flexible Japanese trowels elsewhere, but for all practical purposes they are only useful for very delicate and thin finish coats. I should also add that when it comes to buying tools and materials, I have to go to great lengths before ordering from afar.

Burkard Reuger of Germany inspecting the medium coat plaster mix. You have to love Burkard, or "the professor" as I called him. He watched everything we did like a hawk and had a measurement for everything. If we needed the calculate the amount of mix we needed for a wall I would simply call upon him. In response he would tell me: for every square meter of wall surface, plaster a centimeter thick, 10 liters of mix is needed. He's kind of like a natural building version of Google and a calculator rolled in to one, onsite and ready to provide info at the drop of a hat.

Another great tool found in Europe is the German lightweight poly float. They're perfect for leveling out walls and removing imperfections prior to final smoothing. German plasterer Barbara Foth of Germany is using it here on a lime plaster prior to finishing. We didn't get so far as developing a contact for these floats while we were there, but here is a link to one that we found on line: http://www.toolspot.co.uk/product/22-x-42cm-german-poly-float

Burnished lime/clay finish. The mix for this wall varies from the basic clay and sand mix described above. As I remember we used almost an equal part of very finely chopped straw to the clay and about 1/2 as much sand as the clay.

In addition to plaster work we did both earthen and tataki floors in the chicken coop.

Athena closing herself into the middle of the earth floor.

Finished floor

Constructing the "tataki" floor sample with improvised tamping tools.

Finished "tataki" floor. This type of floor is one we learned from the Japanese. It uses a sandy clay soil that has a percentage of gravel combined with a little lime and "nigari" which is used to make tofu. The common version is magnesium chloride which can be gotten almost anywhere and does not need to be sealed with linseed oil like the earth floor.

Another side project we did apart from plastering walls was refinishing an old masonry oven. This created an opportunity for participants to do some sculpting with the mixes. Seemed that the Germans in particular liked this project in that they are already masters of the "straight wall."

Oven in its original state.

Refinishing in progress.

Finished oven with fresco color being applied to the lime/clay plaster.

And I think that is all I need to say about Slovakia. All in all it was a marvelous experience, we would not have traded for anything. Next on this blog will come our visit to Germany and now that our work schedule has slowed down a little, I should be able to manage more frequent posts. And if you didn't notice, there is now an option on this blog to subscribe to it so that whenever there is a new post you should be notified by email rather than having to check.