El Zaguán Master Plan update: Phase I interior construction completed

Phase I interior construction of the El Zaguán Master Plan is now complete. HSFF staff will move into the new offices in apartment 3 over the next couple of weeks. The office spaces are functional and comfortable – with increased file storage, track lighting, and adjustable standing desks with larger work surfaces – as well as beautiful and airy with freshly painted floors and plastered walls.

Visiting hours may be impacted by the move. Please call the office at 505.983.2567 or email Hanna Churchwell at hanna@historicsantafe.org to confirm we are open.

Our current exhibition Broom Room will be on display in the new board room (apt. 1) until September 15. Starting September 18, the portal and garden will be closed for several weeks due to work on the portal.

Phase II will begin after we have fully moved, converting the old offices into a history interpretation room that will include exhibits and interpretive design telling the entire history of El Zaguán as it parallels the history of Santa Fe and a new expanded gift shop. We anticipate opening the history interpretation room, shop, and improved gallery space in early 2024.

Read more about the El Zaguán Master Plan or make a donation to the Capital Campaign here.

Watch "A Brief History of Canyon Road" by Kyle Maier of Kamio Media on YouTube

Last week Kyle Maier of Kamio Media, a collaborator of Historic Santa Fe Foundation (HSFF) for several years, publicly released the first chapter of his documentary series The History of Canyon Road. Chapter one of the series titled A Brief History of Canyon Road is an introduction to the story of Canyon Road narrated by John Pen La Farge. HSFF is pleased to act as the fiscal sponsor for Kyle's project which received initial funding from the Eugene V. and Clare E. Thaw Charitable Trust. Learn more about the series here and follow along with Kyle's progress on Instagram at @canyonroadhistory.

Ned Blackhawk's The Rediscovery of America: A Book Review by Pete Warzel

The Rediscovery of America: Native Peoples and the Unmaking of U.S. History
By Ned Blackhawk
Yale University Press
Hardcover
616 pages
$35.00

Review by Pete Warzel

Ned Blackhawk, School for Advanced Research board director, Howard R. Lamar Professor of History and American Studies at Yale University, and the recipient of many professional awards for his research and writing, has given us a major work that explores the influence of Indigenous nations in and on the making of the United States. The research is extensive, the book eye-opening. The layers of influence and interaction are not what we learned in school, and fill in the blanks that make a more coherent whole of this nation’s history. Our pristine creation myth is perhaps not the real story.

Professor Blackhawk places a map on the inside cover and frontispiece for your first encounter with the extent of what he is about to present. It is a map of the present day United States, with the names of Native Nations located geographically, designating their pre-removal locations. The map is crowded, covered in Indigenous designations that succinctly makes the point of how extensive the original habitation of our country covered the entire landscape– and these are “select” Native Nations, not the entirety. The back inside cover and end page are a mirror image of this map, but detail the contemporary locations of state and federally recognized Native Nations. I am astounded at how many of the names are unfamiliar to me. That hole in our history is eloquently filled by Blackhawk in this serious work.

The two geographic areas where I have spent most of my life begin this history chronologically– New Mexico and the Southwest, and the northeast of Colonial France and England. I grew up in upstate New York, where the Iroquois Confederacy was familiar, the tribes legendary – Mohawk, Onondaga, Cayuga, Oneida, and Seneca. Their names mark the geography of the Finger Lakes, New York State counties, and towns – West Seneca. NY, was a hang-out for me, Cayuga Lake a destination. New Mexico and its nineteen pueblos are home to me now, their designation on the map warranting an expanded window to show the geographic locations spilling into Arizona.

Blackhawk’s work is so extensive it is difficult to compress in this short space. Again, reflecting the crowded visual of the map, we learn that in 1492 the Americas were home to 75 million native peoples. The history lost or overlooked is immense.

You will know the Spanish history that begins the book proper. The enslavement of indigenous people by Europeans as well as by other indigenous tribes is becoming more known in our exploration of the past in New Mexico. The same is true in the traditional narrative of the founding of our country, the colonial Northeast. Details that we might be unaware of are brought to light by Blackhawk’s research, such as the very poor military performance by George Washington, as a British commander during the French and Indian War (Seven Years War), pre-American revolution. There is the symbiotic relationship of the native nations with the French in Canada and into the northern Midwest that was built on trade and protection, throwing balance into chaos when the British defeated the French in the French and Indian War. The French left their names behind in the geography and cities (Detroit, Belle Fourche, Des Moines, LaCrosse, etc.), but also left, upon their withdrawal, a new power structure that Blackhawk argues was the spark of the revolution that created the United States.

It is just that notion of creation that is the heart of the argument of this book. Colonial expansion from the original British colonies, and the power displacements leading to Indigenous migrations, followed by colonist land expansion into the Ohio River Basin and further west, created a vacuum that the British government could not fill. Militias formed by the colonists took land from the displaced tribes and nations, and sparked a trend of intentional violence against native people, but also against British troops. The first shots of what would be the American revolution may have been fired in March, 1765, in Pennsylvania. The frontier settlers began raids on British supply trains that carried trade goods to the tribes, and “…laid siege to English forts in the region.” Blackhawk terms this rebellious, political movement “settler sovereignty”, that later in the year embraced urban protests against taxes and our school-taught history of the Boston Tea Party.

There are parallels to our troubled times today. Following the French and Indian War, really a global colonial power struggle, British colonists expanded west, and Pontiac’s War (an Odawa leader) began almost immediately. A vigilante group was formed in 1763, self-titled the Paxton Boys, renamed later the Black Boys. “An interior political culture was forming that disdained Indians and the eastern officials who supported them.” This sounds all too familiar, and although the name may be coincidence, it is eerily parallel to the contemporary neo-fascist group the Proud Boys, and the rise of fringe militias in our country. The mid-eighteenth century version was also racially biased. Benjamin Franklin, then a loyal British subject and member of the Pennsylvania colonial legislature, wrote a treatise in 1764, “ A Narrative of the Late Massacres in Lancaster County of a Number of Indians, FRIENDS of this Province” that declaimed “the only Crime seems to have been, that they had a reddish brown Skin, and Black hair.” He goes on to state that this kind of racial, violent behavior, “…is done by no civilized Nation.” Franklin was not re-elected to the legislature for his outspokenness, as the “interior” of the colonies became a new political force, and that too sounds distinctly familiar in our current politics.

The distrust of the settlers in the interior of Indigenous people now carried over to the British government, which supposedly protected westward expansion. Blackhawk cites a stunning paragraph in Thomas Jefferson’s Declaration of Independence, the founding document of the American Revolution that certainly has linguistic ties to our contentious monument that sits, or does not, at the center of the Santa Fe Plaza. The third to last grievance in the declaration against George III, King of England, states “He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavored to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.”

It surprises me that a discussion about this founding rhetoric never surfaced during the “battle” over the soldiers monument in Santa Fe, given the original “Savage Indians” statement carved in the monument, and then chiseled out in the night. We are indeed ignorant of our own history, or perhaps, selectively so, and begs the question what do we do with our memorialized founding document – change it, chisel the words from the paper? Ignore it?

Professor Blackhawk’s impeccable history urges us to ask these hard questions.

Governing by the initial Articles of Confederation, the new U.S structure and infrastructure was lacking, and became a driving force of the creation of the United States Constitution in 1787, more specifically addressing the relationship with, and management of, Native Nations. But the young, independent U.S. still faced uncertainties in its administration and application of its new laws. Looking to acquiring territory from foreign holdings in North America, the new U.S. administration needed to find a legal way to do so. “Could the federal government ‘purchase’ lands, and if so, how were these lands to be added to the Union? And what was to be done with the Native and non-U.S. peoples upon them?” Acquisition by war and conquest were recognized by the Constitution. But how was the new country to govern other circumstances? Treaties with the Native Nations became the country’s internal growth mechanism, accompanied certainly by the now repeated violence of settlers against Indians. Blackhawk argues that the treaty process in place set the path for relations with other countries and empires, and the further acquisition of territories to add to the growing boundaries of the new country. The U.S cut its diplomacy teeth on Indigenous Nations.

In 1860 the pattern of expansion and violence repeats as the nation drives towards Civil War. Union soldiers stationed in the west for Indian matters are recalled for the war, and volunteer militias take on the process, again, of “settler colonialism.” As Professor Blackhawk points out, through the words of General John Pope in orders to Colonel Henry Sibley, ‘it is my purpose utterly to exterminate the Sioux if I have the power to do so….” We cannot hide that direct statement behind the blur of time and history. This federal position is a stark, reprehensible admission. It is our country’s history, plain and chilling.

In a recoil from federal mismanagement of relationships, many tribes also seceded from the Union, forming treaties with the Confederate States. In 1864 a Cherokee secessionist, Stand Watie, became a brigadier general, and “…was the last Confederate general to surrender.” Other tribes and leaders sought to maintain the treaties made with the United States–the Union –abiding by a commitment to the law. As Blackhawk relates about Indian Territory, “…the war was becoming a civil war within the civil war.”

The period following the Civil War, into the twentieth century, and now into the twenty-first, is an alternative repeat of policies and friction. “Termination” in the 1950s and 60s was an attempt by the Bureau of Indian Affairs to terminate treaties, and so tribal lands, hinting at or promising individual compensation, and more direct control by the nations. Given the murky status of sovereignty and U.S. citizen status of tribal members, termination promised it all, including relocation programs for Indian families to urban areas This effort resulted in a significant protest movement, awareness by the general public, and a true step forward in self-management, and economic development through reversal of termination, and re-establishment of sovereign autonomy on the reservations. Professor Blackhawk cites the establishment of IAIA in Santa Fe, as a transformative experience in empowering this trend.

Ned Blackhawk has given us a major work of American history. It is straightforward, rigorous, non-apologetic, and non-accusative. (The facts and citations are damning on their own). The book is simply a presentation of a documented history that we have never entertained previously, one that fills in the blanks of time to give us a more complete story of our nation’s founding and evolution. Writing of the Cold War era, Professor Blackhawk states “For most Americans, Indian affairs seemed inconsequential.” Hopefully, that is no longer the case, but if so, perhaps this book, and its wide reach into our collective history, can help to change that.

If you can grapple with the early 18th century, and the mid-19th century quotations cited above, and believe that violent rhetoric is outdated in our country and world view, let us end with a quote by Mayor Herschel Melcher, Chamberlain, South Dakota, speaking about the urban migration of Native Americans as the treaties were offered “termination” in exchange for citizen rights and self-management: “We do not intend to let an Indian light around here at all. If they come in here it will be necessary to declare an open season on Indians….We do not want them and we see no reason why we should, and don’t want them in our schools.” This from the 1960s, not so long ago in our self-enlightened times. In other words, as Blackhawk points out. Indians threaten “the American way of life.” That is the very convoluted logic that we see today in the politicization of everything American.

Take the time to read and think through the work presented in this powerful history. It is well-worth your understanding of who and how we really are as a nation.

Brian Paccione and Jon Vigil on Capturing the Spirit and Resilience of Las Trampas

Interview by Hanna Churchwell, HSFF Education & Communications Coordinator

Historic Santa Fe Foundation (HSFF) Executive Director Pete Warzel invited Brian Paccione to our offices at El Zaguán last summer to discuss ALABADO, a documentary film– currently in production– exploring the spiritual lives of Las Trampas' Hispano community. Shortly after the meeting, HSFF became the fiscal sponsor for Brian’s project. This spring I traveled to Las Trampas to plan HSFF’s upcoming event at San José de Gracia Church and met with Brian and ALABADO’s co-producer Jon Vigil. Our conversation veered from event logistics to their relationship with each other, the community of Las Trampas, and filmmaking and later motivated the questions asked in the interview below.

Brian paccione (LeFT) and Jon Vigil (right)

Hanna Churchwell (HC): What brought you together? What was the catalyst for making a documentary film about the community of Las Trampas? 

Brian Paccione (BP): I was navigating a very difficult time in my life and as New Mexico does for so many people who are working to understand pain and loss, the place beckoned to me. I did not know where I was going or what my journey meant– but on a hot day in early July I drove into Las Trampas…and San José de Gracia Church spoke to me. I could hear it breathing, through its skin– generations of mud. The church was (and still is) very much alive to me. As expected, it was locked, but a rough and tender local guy, Leroy Aguilar (RIP), pointed to a small home up the hill– “If you want to see the church, knock on that door.” I knocked on the door and met Jon– and the rest is history.  For the next six years, I came back to Las Trampas a few times a year. It was a place that somehow understood me– and I felt it was asking me to understand it better. It felt right to spend time with the people who lived there, deepen my friendship with Jon, and learn why I felt such a deep connection to this land, its history, and the culture it expressed. Four years ago, another period of loss brought me back to Las Trampas to heal. But this time, I took a deeper step towards my connection to the village. I wanted to make contact with this community in a more intentional, spiritual, and focussed way – and the only way I know how to do that is to make a film. Working with Jon is something that is hard to put into words. Jon is one of my best friends. It could have been anyone behind that door ten years ago. But it was Jon. My friendship with Jon is one of the things I am most grateful for in my life. It has been a source of strength in some of the most difficult times. We help each other. We are bonded by our struggles and are committed to the same spiritual journey. He inspires me and has taught me so much. It’s a very special thing.

HC: Can you say a few words about several events which recently impacted the village and the role they have played in shaping the outcomes of the community of Las Trampas? 

BP: Our film opens with the death of Jose Liberato Lopez, the mayordomo of the San José de Gracia Church. Jose was the leader of the Las Trampas community and was a powerful unifying force for the village. His power was expressed in his devotion towards the caretaking of the church. His family has lived in Las Trampas for hundreds of years and Jose protected the knowledge and traditions of this community, holding these families together through economic hardship and changing times. Without Jose, the future of this church– and Las Trampas– was imperiled. Still reeling from Jose’s death, the villagers turn to Rose Vigil, who accepts the responsibility of mayordoma of the church. Rose is the emotional core of Las Trampas. Her heart is big, and her spirit is felt by all. But when Rose is diagnosed with terminal cancer, Las Trampas must not only reckon with the loss of another beloved member of their community, but the reality that their sacred way of life is changing. When Rose passes away from cancer the community is left to deal with the absence of two of its most important members. Our film creates a space for their absence, a time to mourn this loss, and a journey towards rebirth and renewal for the Las Trampas community.

HC: Can you elaborate a bit on the themes of spirituality and community in your film? How would you describe the interplay between ancestral rituals and contemporary society in Las Trampas? 

BP: As the Chicano elders of Northern New Mexico pass away, so do their rituals. The tools used to cope with loss and heal from trauma are fading. These communities are predominantly senior– the young people are leaving and have no interest in an agrarian life tied to the land. Drugs are a serious problem. Our film investigates the drug situation in Northern New Mexico, its effect on these communities and how it has replaced many of the traditional ways of life for these villages. How can a spiritual life prevail when ancestral traditions compete with the social complexities of a contemporary society? How does life go on after the unspeakable happens to us? What can we learn from these communities and their ancestral knowledge? What can they teach us about processing loss? Our film is an investigation of these questions. At a time particularly marked by upheaval and catastrophe, we turn to Las Trampas to better understand how to endure the pain of heartbreak, trauma, and death. The rituals of this Chicano/Hispano community are a metaphorical and literal model of our own communities– and they provide lessons in healing. 

 HC: Through interviews, ALABADO explores the relationship of individuals to traditions and the broader community in Las Trampas. How important was it for ALABADO to emphasize their stories?

BP: Our film not only preserves the voices, songs, and spirit of this vanishing cultural group for future generations, but functions as an independent creative ceremony that mobilizes the entire Las Trampas community to work on a different kind of “church”– a documentary film– to invite them to reflect on and build their culture. Our film mobilizes the villagers of Las Trampas to participate in the story of their culture by providing an organized opportunity to reflect on their inner lives and express their perspectives.  Much like the John Collier Jr. photographs taken in the 1940s, our film not only functions as a valuable reference point for researchers and historians, but as a way for future generations of Hispano/Chicano communities to recognize their identity and be inspired to contribute to the representation of their culture.

HC: Can you speak on your process of conducting interviews?

BP: Our interviews are collaborative conversations. We sit and ask our subjects what they would like to talk about, and we listen to them. We bring curiosity, empathy, and vulnerability. This is an exchange of feelings– a heart-to-heart relationship in which Jon and I share our personal struggles as well. 

HC: How has the focus changed over time, especially after having filmed your first round of interviews?

BP: The focus has not changed. The focus was always to celebrate the power of the human heart to endure suffering and engage in a spiritual cycle of life, death, and rebirth.

HC: Of the people you have spoken with so far, and the insights they shared with you, is there one conversation in particular that has resonated with you?

BP: There is a great and deep love for all the participants of our film. I respect them. They have taught me so many things. There is one thing that Ray Pacheco mentioned that I think about a lot. He asks the Lord, “Why? Why all the suffering? And why can’t you take the pain away?” The Lord answered him. “Because,” answers the Lord, “if I took your pain away, then you will forget about me.”

HC: Jon, how would you describe your relationship to Las Trampas, both the community and the built environment, when you were young? How has that relationship evolved over the years, especially with your art and now with ALABADO.

Jon Vigil (JV): I would describe my relationship with the community as being one with everything. I am quite quiet and reserved. I find comfort in observing and connecting with the unique energy that truly exists in this place. I don’t know if it can honestly be described. The energy here is just one of you either feel it and connect or you don’t. My process has always just been one of an observer. I would also add that my relationship with the town has changed much over the years. I am very even keeled and try to just be true to myself, respectful of those I interact with, and allow for whatever it is that is spoken either energetically or otherwise to be listened to. I truly believe one of the reasons Brian and I connected is that both of our energies fit with this place and the spirit of these mountains. It’s a very serene presence. We both understand there is something that is very special here. We both have worked to be at one with everything and allow for the process to unfold as it sees fit. The process in this film has been quite difficult at times. Many of the subjects in the film are very close to me. Some family and some very close friends. It can be very hard to sit back and listen to them speak on very difficult subject matter at times. As an empath I absorb so much of what’s around me so I try my best to balance all of that while at the same time trying to just be an objective listener. 

HC: Brian, your films share common themes of love, loss, and faith. Have your prior experiences navigating those themes informed your approach to making ALABADO?

BP: Yes. It is all I am interested in, and I think it’s what makes my work useful to me and hopefully useful to others. I have very deep questions about these things– how to love, how to let go, what it all means– and I turn to the artistic gestures of others to understand these questions better.  All I want to do is to be a part of that tradition– of making things that people can use to hopefully understand how to love better. I try to design a process that helps me, the people in my film, and the audience do that. Making films is therapy.

HC: The shots featured in the teaser are intimate and immersive. What inspired the visual language of the film?

BP: The visual language is inspired by tapping into the energy of the mountains and the soul of the people who live under them. In many ways, the energy of the place and the people there tell you where to put the camera– you cannot impose, this is about listening– and it is a very intuitive thing. We come very highly sensitized and ready to serve the energy that is presented to us. We follow the light, and the light shows us where to go. You mention intimacy. Intimacy is a very important word for me. It is all about healthy intimacy. Everything I do is aiming for intimacy. For me, it is about understanding. It is about getting close and private and sharing in a moment. 

HC: Where are you in the production process? What are some of the obstacles you have encountered during production?

BP: We have around 65% of the film shot. We will be shooting the remaining 35% of the film in June 2023. As far as my personal obstacles, I recognize I am an outsider. It has taken years of visiting and thinking and feeling my way through this community to feel that I was ready to engage creatively with it. I am still learning and still responding and changing and adapting my approach. Many of our obstacles have been the mistakes of those who came before us– the carelessness of simplistic representation in the media, the greed of corporate industrialization/nuclearization, and the violence of colonization. Through patience, conversation, and collaboration we work very hard to ensure that this community understands we are here to listen and make something beautiful together. We are here to build trust and ensure that our intentions are clear. There is also a personal obstacle, which is just the nature of documentary filmmaking– these projects take time. This is good, since it means continued sensitization and continued reflection– but I think it’s difficult for any artist to sit with a project for years, through chapters of your life and the lives of the participants. It’s a long journey.

 HC: Who are you making this documentary for and what do you hope your audience takes away from watching it? Or What do you hope the takeaways are for people from Las Trampas who will watch the film? And for viewers outside of the community?

BP: Our film takes this position confidently: that there are forces at work more powerful than we are, there are energies that bind us together, and that the echo of those who came before us can be felt and seen if we open our eyes wide enough. Our process and technique is forged from this perspective. Our film is a prayer. The theater is our church, and our audience are parishioners. In the darkness, they are here to reckon with themselves while asking silent energies for guidance and answers. Through the drama of light, angle, silence, and composition, our visual and auditory approach is designed to bring an audience to their knees, open them to spiritual communication, and encourage them, regardless of belief, to connect with the primal gesture of submission, meditation, and inner conversation. I believe in the power of a creative act to heal. I believe in equating this creative gesture to a sacred ritual. I believe in the resulting creative object to serve as a vessel between the spiritual world and our waking life. I believe that cinema has the ability to make the transcendent sensorial. Our film is an expression of these ideals. It is a sacred invitation to silent reflection, communal action, and spiritual awakening. I hope the people from Las Trampas watch our film and are proud. I want them to be proud of who they are and where they come from. I want them to share and celebrate who they are, together and with love. At the end of the day, I just want to make something beautiful. Not aesthetically– that counts, yes– but beautiful as in truthful and pure of heart.

HC: Is there anything you would like to add?

BP: We need your help. Making films is very difficult and very expensive. This is a personal film– it is built with our own sweat and blood. It is made with our hearts. For years, this film has been financed only by us. We have saved and have worked very hard for this story– and we will not be able to complete the film unless we receive additional support. We will need an additional $10,000 to bring the story of Las Trampas to you. This money ensures that we work ethically and responsibly in a way that reflects and respects the spirit of this story. Thank you for the opportunity to share our hearts with you– and we invite you to take this journey with us.

JV: In very difficult periods of my life, I have literally had angels show up at my doorstep. Brian has been one of those angels. We have weathered some very strenuous phases of life together and will continue to weather many more. The process for this film started at one of those points in life where we both needed healing from the difficulties life throws. This film begins with the community getting hit with some heavy blows. I truly believe that this film can be the angel the Las Trampas community as a whole needs in its time of need. We both have found so much healing in this process and hope to spread that healing beyond just the two of us. The support given to us in doing this project has been something neither of us will ever forget. We appreciate it more than any words could ever say.

Initial funding for the project has been granted to Brian Paccione by the Eugene V. and Clare E. Thaw Charitable Trust with the Historic Santa Fe Foundation serving as fiscal sponsor for this grant. Additional funding is appreciated. Donate to the project here.


ABOUT BRIAN (DIRECTOR, PRODUCER, CINEMATOGRAPHER)

Brian Paccione's
films have enjoyed international recognition for their spiritual, sensitive, and passionate accounts of love, loss, and faith. He holds a BA in both film and biology from Vassar College as well as an MFA from the Columbia University Graduate Film program. In addition to writing and directing his own work, Brian currently teaches film production at SUNY Purchase College and Brooklyn College. For more information on Brian's work visit his website.

ABOUT JON VIGIL (PRODUCER, CINEMATOGRAPHER)

Jon Vigil has spent more than a decade as a freelance videographer and photographer in his native state of New Mexico. Inspired by all that is unique to the region, Jon found his voice in the same adobe home where his great grandfather Juan Lopez once lived. Jon's personal projects serve to celebrate and preserve the culture of his family and his village in Northern New Mexico.

Casa Santa Fe: A Book Review

Casa Santa Fe: Design, Style, Arts and Tradition

Photography by Melba Levick
Text by Dr. Rubén Mendoza
Rizzoli International Publications, Inc.
Hardcover, $55.00
288 pages

Review by Pete Warzel

The book that set the “style”, Santa Fe Style by Christine Mather and Sharon Woods, was published thirty years ago, in April. The past six months seems to have opened the floodgates on related publications, with Santa Fe: Sense of Place and Santa Fe Modern both published at the end of 2022, and now Casa Santa Fe: Design, Style, Arts and Tradition just released in 2023. They all are hefty, elegant books, each taking that original look at Santa Fe homes and gardens a step further in breadth and quality of the photography.

David Skolkin designed this most recent book for Rizzoli. David did the scheme for our very own 2022 publication, Old Santa Fe Today, and although different in purpose, is just as elegant as the house-style publications.

Casa Santa Fe is a handsome, substantial book, replete with engaging photographs of the subject houses. Melba Levick, photographer, has contributed to over sixty books, including two other collaborations with archeologist and educator Dr. Rubén Mendoza – The California Missions and The Spanish Style House: From Enchanted Andalusia to the California Dream. Rizzoli has found a duo that presents very well.

The cover jacket is a photo of the Amelia Hollenback House, an extraordinary John Gaw Meem house built in 1932, that was the site of one of our Steward events in 2021, thanks to Temple and Mickey Ashmore. Coincidentally, the back jacket cover is an image of the Donaciano Vigil House, the location of another of our Steward events in 2022, hosted by Christopher Watson. (Both of these houses also have entries in the book proper). The Vigil House is listed on the Historic Santa Fe Foundation Register of Properties Worthy of Preservation, and wears our shield plaque proudly on its exterior adobe plaster wall. Four other homes on the HSFF Register are included in the book, with excellent interior photographs of each.

The book begins with a comprehensive introduction by Dr. Mendoza that addresses the pre-history and history of the Santa Fe area, evolution of architectural styles, and the architects who worked to present a livable, visually pleasing, built environment that stewards the heritage of the area. Casa Santa Fe presents elegant home facades, grounds, and interiors, in defined sections: Historic and Spanish Pueblo Revival, Meem houses, Collector’s homes, Eclectic adobes, Artists’ homes, houses of the Cinco Pintores, Ranches, and finally Contemporary homes. The broad survey is interspersed between home entries with two page photo essays on various subjects that flow from the preceding chapters: tins and lanterns, portales, fireplaces and hornos, nichos, and more. This structure provides a feast of visual elements that define design and style of how we envision the city’s architecture.

All of the homes are wonderfully presented. We obviously have interest, and pride, in the homes designated on the HSFF Register. Of special interest to me are several other houses that are stunning in design, or provide room for collections that define the space or its owners. Architect Beverley Spears’ family house is a contemporary adobe house with barrel vaulted ceilings, creating what Mendoza terms a “sanctuary for the owners.” In the “Collector” section of the book, the home of Christina and Curt Nonomaque pictures a shelf in a dining area, that holds an extraordinary collection of Patrocino Barela carvings, certainly the most I have ever seen in one place. J.B. Jackson’s house in La Cienega, now owned and restored by the artist Billy Schenck and Rebecca Carter, is an expansive museum of art and prehistoric ceramics. All fascinating. Each a special look at properties that are so individually, personally designed.

The book ends with a glossary of terms, completing the excellent survey of residential architecture that helps to define the aesthetic of northern New Mexico. It is an elegant reminder of why Santa Fe feels like home to so many of us around the world.

Preservation Projects Manager Mara Saxer departing HSFF to begin a new adventure

Mara Saxer joined the Historic Santa Fe Foundation in 2015. For over seven years, Mara was a dedicated part of the Foundation’s team, first as the Preservation Specialist and later as our Preservation Projects Manager. Last Thursday was Mara’s last day with us– now she is seizing the opportunity to travel. We are excited for her to embark on this new journey and want to acknowledge the extent of her work at El Zaguán.

Mara’s contributions stretched far beyond the space constraints of a weekly email or blog post. She took on the restoration of the Garcia House as well as the “Sisyphusian task of maintaining the entrance of HSFF’s El Zaguán.” Mara has also been an adroit mentor and resource to our preservation trades interns, contributor to the El Zaguán Master Plan and fifth edition of Old Santa Fe Today, and manager of HSFF’s preservation easement program. Mara possesses invaluable skills, talents, and experiences in preservation, and we are lucky she shared them with us to the Foundation’s great benefit.

Sincere thanks Mara, for all you have done for the Foundation and the care of El Zaguán.

Email hanna@historicsantafe.org to send your well wishes to Mara, and we will pass along your messages.