Art Around Every Corner

Unlike a lot of cities, Palm Springs and its neighboring communities don’t have just one art district. Perhaps it’s the continuing and encouraged diversity of its inhabitants or the friendly rivalry between cities up and down the Coachella Valley. Whatever the reason, there are artist enclaves scattered throughout the valley and each carries its own special uniqueness.

Art and Palm Springs go together like the blended reaction of alcohol ink spread out on a tupo paper. The area is a strange cornucopia of harsh geography, colorful history and strange transplants who have transformed this stretch of desert into a playground for artists of every ilk.

On the surface, Palm Springs is known as a desert oasis, a fashionable resort town and global mecca for innovative modern architecture. Among the founders of Desert Modernism were Bauhaus-influenced architects Albert Frey and E. Stewart Williams, whose legacies can still be seen in numerous public and private structures around town. But beneath that façade of blue skies and bright white modern buildings is an environment bubbling over with creative endeavors from all the arts.

From the outrageously expensive art pieces on El Paseo Drive in Palm Desert to the rudimentary scratch pieces at the East Jesus outdoor gallery in Slab City, artistic endeavors have taken on every imaginable form and fashion, shape and design, subtle and in-your-face expressions of thought and ideas.

The Backstreet Art district is located several miles from downtown Palm Springs in an old strip shopping mall. There are dozens of artist-owned galleries and working studios which feature paintings, sculpture, photography, jewelry, ceramics as well as space for the performing arts.

A much larger area for artists is located at the Palm Springs Art Museum and north of downtown in the Art and Design District. At one time this area was a barren stretch of boarded up storefronts and half empty motels that offered none of the glamor and cache of old or new Palm Springs. Over time that changed and now the Uptown Art and Design District is a true enclave of galleries, design shops, restaurants and housing for the creative minded types.

The Ultimate in artistic regeneration and commercial display is located down the valley in Palm Desert. El Paseo Drive is a mile long commercial strip that is generations and millions of dollars removed from the mud huts of early painters deep in the desert. It is meant to embody the style and elegance of high society in the desert. This art-strung boulevard houses over 250 retailers, professional services, renowned restaurants and locally owned boutiques. It is the ultimate avenue for anything and everything you never knew you needed or wanted.

Desert art has come a long way from those first ancient petroglyphs through ‘en plein air’ to the rich tapestry of creative talent that resides here now. There are a plethora of art shows, film festivals, world-class gallery and museum events, rotating exhibitions, national touring and locally produced theater, classical to contemporary music concerts, couture fashion shows and architecture and design tours. The Southwest Arts Festival is just one of a dozen or more art festivals throughout ‘the season.’

South of Palm Springs and the Coachella Valley lies a cluster of primeval ancient relics of art that confuse, shock and amuse the errant wanderer who happens upon their grounds. I discovered that several years ago when I stumbled upon several enclaves of mystery just south of the Salton Sea.

Down a dusty road from the Salton Sea is Salvation Mountain. This strange collection of painted hills is one of the premiere examples of folk art in the middle of nowhere America. The site has become a mecca for those influenced by and intrigued with this kaleidoscope of painted hills, crude cave dwellings and religious scripture. The cave’s paint can and hay bale construction would challenge even the most daring of spelunkers.

The artwork is made from adobe, straw and thousands of gallons of lead-free paint. It was created by the late Leonard Knight (1931-2014). A deeply religious man, Knight created an art piece that encompasses numerous murals and areas painted with Christian sayings and Bible verses. Knight’s philosophy was built around the ‘Sinners Prayer.’

Slab City otherwise known as ‘The Slabs’ is a snowbird campsite used by recreational vehicle owners alongside squatters from across North America. It takes its name from the concrete slabs that remain from an abandoned World War II Marine barracks of Camp Dunlap.

It’s estimated that there are about one and fifty permanent residents (squatters) who live in the Slabs year around. Some live on government checks, others just want to live ‘off the grid’ and a few come to stretch out their retirement income. The camp has no electricity, no running water, no sewers or toilets and no trash pickup service. Sounds like a dry run for the apocalypse.

Despite the free shoe tree on the way into town and the free library, most of the residents have sectioned off their trailers, tents and sleeping bags with tires, pallets or barbwire. Free is free unless it comes to their piece of the desert then even squatters want their personal space recognized.

No trip to Slab City would be complete without a swing by East Jesus. East Jesus has been described as an experimental, sustainable art installation. East Jesus is a colloquialism for the middle of nowhere beyond the edge of services. Made from discarded material that has been reused, recycled or repurposed, East Jesus encourages visitors to imagine a world without waste in which every action is an opportunity for self-expression.

West Satan is simply a suburb of East Jesus. I found the art gallery there fascinating and mind-expanding. It was tripping out without the acid and a glimpse into the lives of those who don’t want to be a part of ‘any scene’ here in fantasy land or the rest of the world.

The high desert communities of the Morongo Valley, Yucca Valley and Joshua tree continue to attract artists and musicians now as it has since the turn of the century. This is another world of vast nothingness peppered with the sad remnants of past lives. It’s a place where stillness thunders louder than the wind and God did some of his finest paintings. It is a vast virtual sound studio for the creative musician and blank canvas for artists of every discipline.

The area is a mecca for aging rock stars and modern-day bohemians along with ordinary people all in search of a new beginning. It’s the place where people go to get lost and be creative.

Joshua tree and these surrounding communities embrace another form of existence; all of which is surrounded by endless horizons.

Yet as much as time changes the flavor of art, Sharon and I still get to immerse ourselves in the daily show all around us. Each morning, sunlight still dances off of the mountain side and casts imaginative shadows over our lives. It’s like a new show taking place every day and we get to be in the audience and enjoying that celestial talent from above.

Lemonade Skies and Tangerine Dreams

Dawn in the desert. The beautiful sunrise brushes finger-thin rays of lemonade pink against the still sleeping snow-capped mountains. Occasionally there are fleeting glimpses of coyotes on the golf course returning from their nocturnal hunt. Those hours just after dawn seem to draw out an interesting assortment of desert characters (human and otherwise) intent on enjoying the cool of morning before the heat of the day. 

Many desert communities down the Valley hide behind their miles of stucco walls, ficus hedges and other obstacles to a glimpse inside. Not so with Palm Springs. Hollywood East, as it is sometimes called, is a different kind of animal. Most resort communities sport the ubiquitous gated enclaves of look-alike signature homes surrounding a golf course where every home has a swimming pool in the backyard. Those enclaves of understated wealth are sprinkled with a flavoring of palaces to fine dining and expensive shops with one-of-a-kind amenities meant to separate the cake from the chaff. Palm Springs is all that but much more. It’s what separates this desert town from so many others.

Photo Credit:  Melvin Hale

Over the past several decades, Palm Springs got so outdated that it became hip all over again. What was once old mid-century modern architecture is now hip and all the rage among modernists. Tired old motels have been revamped, remodeled and now charge ten dollars for a bottle of beer. 1950’s throw-away furniture fetches a fortune in design stories and replicas fare just as well. Old is new again and thus hip for those born twenty to thirty years ago. Early morning in Palm Springs is a perfect example of this paradox.

In Palm Springs it takes a lot to turn heads. For example, there’s nothing remarkable about a hundred and fifty thousand dollar Bentley parked in front of McDonalds or the elderly owner inside sipping his cheap cup of coffee-with refills. Or the ‘classic’ 1964 mustang convertible parked in front of True Value hardware. A hipster arriving at ‘The Rowen’ wouldn’t turn an eye with his vintage corvette.

Gardeners and pool boys file in and out of convenience stores for their unhealthy snacks and caffeinated beverages. At the other end of the lifestyle spectrum, joggers and bikers perform their morning ritual before the rest of us finish that first cup of Joe.

Trail riders are deep into their morning ride along the wash. Not far away, mountain bikers churn up the sandy bottoms for traction. 

Desert rats scramble up shale and rock mountain paths that twist and turn up toward the sky. Centenarians are on the golf course for their sunrise special and then haunt the coffee shops before most of us are even awake.

In the beginning there was only Starbucks. Now several other coffee shops have carved out a sizeable notch of the early morning caffeine addicts. Koffi started the trend. Now Red Collar, Old Town La Quinta Coffee and many more have claimed their own patio in the rising sun.

There is a particular Starbucks on the outskirts of downtown Palm Springs that always seems to attract a smattering of circus performers minus the circus. In the early morning hours, before the rest of us are beginning to stir in our beds, these shadows of the night emerge from the darkness and slip into their caffeine-induced second home. One local character, Saint Joseph, was usually among them.

St. Joseph always seemed to hold court around same time and always the same corner. When I first started coming to the desert years ago, I would find Saint Joseph in his corner chair, counseling and administering to the daily needs of his flock. The only variable would be his entourage for any particular day and the visiting dignitaries who stop at his office for a brief exchange of wisdom before melting into the night once again.

Joseph was an older gentleman, probably in his mid-seventies. He was always cheerful, ready with a smile and a laugh. He had a pleasant demeanor that never varied with the seasons. He was a counselor, adviser, cheerleader, friend, listener and seeker of the good in everyone he met.

For many people, Joseph was their early morning elixir for what ailed them on that particular day. Unlike the old men who gather at coffee shops around the world to blather on about nothing and expose their ignorance with Monday morning quarterbacking, second-guessing politicians and berating the government, Joseph was articulate, thoughtful and intelligent. He listened to their wishful sometimes confused tangerine dreams.

His entourage varied from day to day as did his visitors. There was usually some old curmudgeon who would be bitching about something and always countered by Joseph’s calm response. Joseph was the man’s patient sounding board.  

There was the handicapped young woman confined her wheelchair. She moved around by using her crutches as walking sticks. She had the sad eyes of a fawn that has just lost its mother.  

There was the muscle man, built solid as a rock, who walked a toy poodle. The dog was his trusted companion and he loved that animal. Mr. Bojangles anyone. Dogs were always a part of the daily entourage. There’s still a dish of water for them outside every morning.

The conversations varied by the day. One time it might be the local news sprinkled with criticism of national politics. The next might be the weather; summer is hot, the rest of the year is wonderful. The conversations would be open, honest and usually bent toward the left which was not surprising considering the community that hosted them. Other coffee shops might have better coffee but none had their own St. Joseph.

The Rowen Hotel

Not far away, early morning downtown Palm Springs presents a different tone and vibe. In its heyday, L.A. had the Sunset Strip and Chicago had its miracle mile. Minneapolis has its Nicollet Mall and Eat Street. Many cities across the country have their own branded tentacles of food, drink, lodging and entertainment. 

Palm Springs has done them one better with its own small-town village atmosphere cloaked as a 21st century hot spot. Throw in a summer splash party or two and it’s become a poor man’s version of ‘Caligula’ for the masses…as long as they’re preferably under thirty years of age.

  Even in the early morning hours, the new town is a happening place once again. After years of economic stagnation and entertainment limbo Palm Springs has risen like a Phoenix. Palm Springs is fast becoming just about the hippest hot spot this side of Brooklyn, Silver Lake and West Hollywood. West Coast hipsters, designers, remodelers, artists, musicians and actors are all rediscovering what their forefathers knew all along. They’re finding that wrapping those warm blue pools with a healthy shot of alcohol can bring out a hedonistic nature in the best of us.

In the heart of downtown is the Rowen Hotel; a central showcase for the brand new downtown Palm Springs. The new hotel is meant to anchor the many new downtown projects underway. Next door, 

The Palm Springs Art Museum continues to draw large crowds to its special exhibits. A pocket park will soon be constructed between the two enterprises. Walkability is a key ingredient here to attract the masses; tourist and local alike. 

The city is even carving up areas around downtown and giving them distinctive labels such as SOPS (South of Palm Springs), the Backstreet Art District and the Uptown Art and Design District.   

There is something magical here with the surrounding mountains, desert-scape, warm winter months and hip happenings all over town. Palm Springs is now a virtual cornucopia of cultural, artistic, sensual, musical and intellectual stirrings for just about everyone from the art culture-types to the more modest of minds. 

It all seems to be happening here and I’m lucky enough to be ‘cruising along’ in the middle of it.