The Man Who Would Be King of Taos Radio

DMC Broadcasting owner Darren Cordova. Photo by Rick Romancito


Technology is an amazing thing. In its unassuming offices along Camino de la Merced, behind Wal-Mart, DMC Broadcasting is in the enviable position of operating four radio stations for Taos listeners.

That’s right — four.

Collectively, they target with spot-on accuracy niches that almost guarantee a loyal listenership for each. Two already have a proven track record — even amid a slight rearrangement of call letters and frequencies.

Its KKIT-FM (“The Mountain”), now at 95.9 on the dial, soaks up listeners who crave adult contemporary rock of the 1970s through to the present. Hitting the wide open Hispano music and language market is the highly popular KXMT-FM 99.1 (“Radio Exitos”), which features regional and international Spanish music along with local news, commentary and information.

Joining them on the airwaves is the new KKTC at 100.7 Taos and 99.9 Angel Fire, which features “the best in true country music,” and the sure-to-be-controversial KVOT-AM 1340 (“The Voice of Taos”), which broadcasts a feed from Air America, liberal talk radio’s answer to the Rush Limbaughs of the airwaves.

The feat of having these four stations operating from one place in Taos was celebrated in an invitation-only ceremony held Nov. 11, 2005, during which members of the Taos County Chamber of Commerce and the Taos Hispano Chamber of Commerce jointly cut a ribbon inaugurating owner Darren Córdova’s ambitious new venture.

Asked if owning Federal Communications Commission licenses for four stations was part of a grand scheme, Córdova said, “I only wanted one radio station. Because I was very passionate about serving the Hispanic community (with KXMT). I felt there was a voice. How I ended up with four is beyond me (laughs). It happened and before you know it I’m like ‘Wait a minute, I own four radio station licenses here.’ ”

Córdova, also a popular local musician, said he “really didn’t have a choice,” because when the FCC put certain frequencies up for auction a lot of big name corporate entities started looking at how they could expand their dominance into this market. “I saw a lot of these outside people coming in,” he said. “I knew they were really going to target my advertisers and, rather than losing it out the backdoor and not getting it, I put a business plan together and convinced our banks to look at it as a kind of stability type of thing, because I really don’t think the FCC will ever grant another license available to Taos, because there’s already five.”

There is another aspect to the choice of demographics Córdova has targeted with each of these stations, which may not be readily apparent. Each happens to focus on a specific area of interest that, very closely in theory at least, favorably blankets a wide segment of voters that any politician might envy if he or she was in the same position to influence.

Córdova, of course, explains this as nothing but business. He says he is only providing what Taos listeners want. KTAO-FM 101.9 is Córdova’s only serious competitor now that he’s dealt a blow to Albuquerque stations by stealing their thunder. Even then, Córdova claims he isn’t competing with “K-Taos,” because he says KTAO owner Brad Hockmeyer “has his niche and he does it well.”

Putting an even more interesting spin to this is Córdova’s political aspirations. Although a previous run for the Taos Town Council ended in defeat, Córdova more than hinted during an interview Wednesday (Nov. 2) that he is planning to take another shot at it. And this time, he may have a better chance. In theory.
Key to this notion is his choice to include Air America in his lineup, something, which is considered both refreshing to liberal listeners fed up with conservatives crowding the talk radio landscape and puzzling given Córdova’s past stance regarding anti-Bush administration protest in Taos.

His KXMT personalities joined the conservative outcry last March over a planned toppling of an effigy of part-time Taos resident United States Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld. Many conservatives in the community felt that the protest would dishonor a monument on the plaza dedicated to war veterans. Not surprisingly, this position has helped solidify a listener base of staunchly pro-traditional Taoseño supporters who look to DMC to give their side of the story.

“I want to make it clear to the community that I’m very concerned with local issues, government issues, along with global and national issues,” he said. “I know that we did have some issues with the protesting and the stance that we took, but I really felt that there’s a big voice in the Democratic liberal left, and there’s a lot that I believe in that too. I think the issue at hand (regarding the effigy) got kind of out of hand by the radicals on both sides, and we were like ‘What’s going on?’ But, I know, sometimes people have said ‘Well, Darren doesn’t like the protesters.’ And, I say, ‘I do, I actually respect a lot of the words that they said because it involves the truth.”

For now, Córdova is like the man who would be king of the Taos airwaves, and that’s a good thing if you take into account what an amazing feat it really is. As Córdova likes to say, “I’m a great communicator,” and having accomplished so much is quite a testament.

The Persistence of Exotic Otherness

Ziyi Zhang in "Memoirs of a Geisha," photo courtesy Columbia Pictures


As a soap opera fashioned for Western audiences, “Memoirs of a Geisha” packages the right amount of exotic otherness readers of romance novels love, while also including that sense of watching a foreign movie without the inconvenience of reading those nasty subtitles.

If this was all that was needed to fill the coffers of movie studios, there might never be another film by Hideo Nakata, Hayao Miyazaki, or Kitano Takeshi gracing our shores. Who cares that some cultures may actually be best represented by people who know something of their own nuances and subtle expression because “Chicago” director Rob Marshall could be cajoled into doing this picture? And that non-Japanese actors like Ziyi Zhang and Michelle Yeoh could be tapped because American audiences kinda recognize their names from “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.”

It’s rather un-PC to point this out, you see. Because conventional wisdom in the industry says actors are actors and directors are directors, no matter their ethnicity. How else could we have Russell Crowe as an American in “The Insider” or Meryl Streep as a Polish German in “Sophie’s Choice,” or films like “Ben Hur,” “Braveheart,” or “Amadeus.” But, what this doesn’t explain, are John Wayne as Attila the Hun or Chuck Connors as Geronimo.

Just imagine how much richer the experience could have been if a Japanese director had done this film, even if it didn’t have a score by John Williams with cello solos by Yo Yo Ma and violin solos by Yitzak Perlman?

As it stands, “Memoirs of a Geisha” rests much of its weight upon the slim shoulders of Ziyi Zhang as Sayuri a geisha-in-training at an O-chaya, to which she was sold as a child by her impoverished parents. But her life as a young girl (played by the wonderful Suzuka Ohgo) is mapped out as one that will be filled with treachery and deceit, prophetic in a less threatening way because so much of the geisha’s world is geared toward maintaining an elegant fantasy for her clients.

When Sayuri matures into a maiko or apprentice, her world opens up as men of importance begin taking notice and her talents as an entertainer begin to overshadow other adult geishas at her O-chaya. Sayuri, though, only has eyes for a gentleman known only as The Chairman (Ken Watanabe), who she met as a child when he bought her a flavored snow cone (yes, there’s a slight hint of a creepy aspect here).

A geisha has historically been known as a “moving work of art,” and not the westernized misinterpretation of a glorified prostitute. She is trained in the art of catering to the needs of men who pay handsomely to be entertained with dance, music and singing, along with the company of an attentive and intelligent companion for the evening. It is said the geisha can become more involved, but only if she wants.

Sayuri’s rise to fame has its cost, which comes in the form of an intense rivalry with Hatsumomo, played by the spectacularly passionate Gong Li, an older geisha trying to hide a forbidden romance on the side. All of this is only so much smoke on the wind when World War II intervenes and the balances of power are forever shifted.

There are elements in this movie that are somewhat enjoyable, and even captivating, but the line between what it is and what it could have been is difficult to ignore.

Sam Elliot: 'Off the Map' Actor Just Happy to be Working

Sam Elliot, left, confers with "Off the Map" director Campbell Scott on the set in Taos, NM. Photo by Rick Romancito


“It’s way out in the middle of nowhere, and the view from the land is where we shot the movie,” director Campbell Scott told Film Stew.com regarding the five acres he won as the Taos Land Grant Award recipient at the 2003 Taos Talking Picture Festival. “We were out there looking at this and now we own a piece of it.”

It is as ironic as the title of the film he made in Taos between August and October 2002 — “Off the Map.” Based on a stage play by Joan Ackermann, who also wrote the screenplay, the film opened here March 25, 2004 after a protracted delay in securing a distributor.

The independently-produced film stars Joan Allen, Sam Elliott and newcomer Valentina de Angelis. It was directed by Independent Spirit award nominee Scott.

In addition to winning the Land Grant Award, Scott was also presented the festival’s coveted Maverick Award.

The production of “Off the Map” helped make 2003 a “breakthrough year” for media production in Taos County, according to Jonathan Slator at the time. The Taos County Film Commissioner said “Off the Map” helped top out $2.5 million in revenue to the county during that fiscal year.

Since then, however, film production in the county has been somewhat sparse, partly due to what some have called political posturing on the part of certain town and county leaders who have, despite impressive numbers, reconsidered funding the self-established commission.

Slator, incidentally, is getting set to launch the second Taos Picture Show (March 31-April 3), a film festival that follows in the footsteps of Taos Talking Pictures which folded in late 2003. “Off the Map,” in that respect also described where funding went for TTP and led to its eventual collapse.

Since it was first shown at the Sundance Film Festival in what he called a “compromised version,” director Scott said Taos screening in 2003 was “its real world premiere,” made more appropriate because of its local connections.

The film tells the story of a life-changing summer for a 12 year old girl named Bo Groden (played by newcomer Valentina de Angelis), who lives with her mom and dad in an off-the-grid homestead north of Taos in the early 1970s.

Sacramento, California-born Elliott, who obviously had many female admirers here, said his role as a man consumed by clinical depression was rather different from his usual western characters. “I think anybody can be depressed,” he said, “whether they’re a strong human being and they’ve got things together or whether they’re somebody you might expect to be depressed for one reason or another. It was a well-crafted piece of material (by Ackermann).”

Elliott said he read that as many as 20 million Americans have suffered from depression. “I was happy to have an opportunity to play a part like that,” he said in his characteristic Texas drawl. “It’s an acting part ... you gotta dredge up a lot of old painful stuff to get there.”

Known for his down-to-earth style, Elliott eschewed many of the traditional movie star trappings during his stay here, even opting to shield his eyes from the spotlight during a Q&A in order to see clearly the people who were asking questions. “I’m an actor,” he said. “I say other people’s words.”

With “Off the Map” set to hit the nation’s theaters, we had a chance to talk to one of America’s favorite leading men from his home in Malibu, Calif. where he still enjoys fishing in the ocean from a kayak. Did we say the man is 60?

Q: So, what’ve you been up to?

Sam Elliott: Just got back from Australia last week. I was down there working on a film called ‘Ghost Rider,’ another one of those Marvel Comics. Nicolas Cage is starring. I was only there a few weeks, putting in a nice little part and had a good time, and got in and got out. Did the first part of an 80 day schedule. It’s a big one and it’s going to take ‘em a long time to get it done, the antithesis of our little picture back there three years ago.

Q: When you were in Taos I asked you what drew you to the role of Charlie Groden and you said something about having a personal experience with someone who was deeply into depression.

A: I remember that conversation. In fact, I’ve talked about that with a lot of people since. Yeah, I’ve got a close friend that’s bipolar, y’know, which puts him right there. I’m not sure that’s where Charlie was, but he was truly or obviously clinically depressed I would say. That was one thing that drew me to it, that was more of a personal thing, but there were a lot of other things that drew me to want to work on that picture.

Q: Such as?

A: Well, an opportunity to work with (director) Campbell Scott, and another opportunity work with (co-star) Joan Allen, y’know, that’s really the primary reason I was there. She was the one who suggested me to play the part. I’d worked with her years before in a picture that we shot that was supposed to be in Washington, D.C., but we actually shot it in Richmond, Va., called “The Contender.” We got along really well and I think had a kind of a mutual admiration society in terms of our work. I was happy to have an opportunity to work with her again.

Q: This marks the second film in recent years that you appeared in a movie set in New Mexico (the other was “The Hi-Lo Country,” which was adapted from a novel by former Taoseño Max Evans). Was that a coincidence?

A: That’s purely coincidence. One of the first films I did back in the early 60s was shot in Santa Fe and I’ve shot in Santa Fe a number of times over the years, back in the days when I was lucky enough to do a western here and there when nobody else seemed to be doing them. I first went to Santa Fe as a real young kid in the 50s with an aunt that came from El Paso and she took me up there to see that church. She was one of those gals that was captivated by that area and she introduced me to it at a real early age. In fact, I’ve continued to be intrigued with that whole Northern New Mexico area. I tell you, bein’ in Taos for the first time when “Off the Map” went there, I just boggled my mind on a lot of levels.

Q: Well, y’know (the original novel) “Hi-Lo Country” was written by Max Evans, who used to live in Taos. I thought it was interesting that you played Jim Ed Love, a character who was first played by Chill Wills in “The Rounders” (1965).

A: That’s amazing, huh? Time goes by.

Q: How did you like working in the Taos area?

A: I loved it because, number one, I felt like we had to be there, since the story was set there. It’s like, we talk about westerns, and a good portion of my career has revolved around westerns, not that this is a western, but the point being is that the setting, the country, in a western genre is every bit as important a character to the piece as the actors. I think that kind of bears out in “Off the Map” as well. I mean, that location was an integral part to understanding what that story was about and how living there affected the people.

Q: This wasn’t among the same kinds of characters you’ve played, although this is set in the west it’s ...

A: It’s a, I don’t know what they call it, it’s a “departure,” I think. It’s very interesting to have an opportunity to play some guy that, although at his core I think that Charlie is a real strong guy. I gotta believe that he was. I think that Campbell (Scott) was looking for that, somebody that had a strength inside. But the fact that he’s got a wounded psyche made him a real intriguing character. It also humanized him a little more, I think. Rather than playing him as a typical macho guy living alone and can do everything.

Q: Did being a father yourself help in any way?

A: No question. Yep. I mean, that’s a painful experience. It’s also the greatest reward I’ve ever had in my life, being a father. And whether it was a daughter or a son, maybe wouldn’t matter, but I think on some levels fathers and daughters, it’s kind of an age-old tale.

Q: You have a daughter too, don’t you?

A: I do have a daughter, and I vividly recollect those days when she was Valentina’s age. Yeah, I drew a lot of what I was doing from that relationship with my daughter. I think there was a certain amount of that that was responsible for Charlie’s problem. He knew that his kid was frustrated. He knew that she wanted something that he couldn’t give her. She was lookin’ to get into the big world, a place where he had no interest in dwelling at all. I think that was one of the reasons that Charlie was depressed.
Q: One thing that struck me about the story, and this is something that has to do with how a number of critics have reacted to the film, is that a lot of them have characterized this as a “hippie family.” To me, it seemed as though they could be up in the mountains above Taos at any time.

A: Yep, today as well as tomorrow. Or yesterday.

Q: Although it’s set in 1974, things have not changed all that much around here.

A: Not up there. I don’t necessarily know that that I would even, I mean you know because you’re there and you’re certainly aware of people like that, but I think there are people like the Grodens all over this country. They’re not hanging out in the key cities. But that’s kind of what Hollywood has always chosen to ignore, that vast majority in between, at least in terms of where they put their advertising and where they put their money and the kind of films that they deliver to the marketplace, I think.

Q: Among all the films to been in, do you have a favorite?

A: I don’t think so. I think that I’d name a handful of them, and they’re favorites for different reasons. I think, Rick, maybe early on in my career, I worked to work. But, over the last 20 years, I think I’ve just tried to be careful what kind of stuff I did, because that stuff has a way of hanging around to haunt you.

Q: Like “Lifeguard”? (a 1976 film that helped cement his sex symbol status)

A: Well, yeah, but that doesn’t haunt me. I’m proud of “Lifeguard.” We worked our asses off on that movie. It wasn’t what Paramount sold it to be. It wasn’t “Beach Blanket Bingo.” It was a coming-of-age story. Some guy doing what he wanted to do, as opposed to answering to the group of people around him that told him he had to grow up and do something real, like sell cars for a living, y’know. I’ve had some very interesting run-ins with different people having to do with “Lifeguard” that have made me think that, yeah, it was worth doing.

Q: In a documentary on the making of “We Were Soldiers” (2002), the focus was on “getting it right.” How important is that to you as an actor?

A: (Elliott starred as the real life Sgt. Major Basil Plumley in the film about the first major engagement in the Vietnam War) I think getting it right when you’re dealing with a historical perspective or truths, particularly the Vietnam War, those guys that went over there and laid down their lives for us in that war, I think it’s absolutely imperative to get it as accurate as possible. I met a lot of those guys that survived that particular battle and met a lot of families of guys that died in that battle. And I know that Hal Moore (played in the film by Mel Gibson) had a real personal commitment to getting that story right. I think that every one of threw in with him on that. I certainly know that Randall Wallace, who wrote and directed, that was his goal.

Q: How was working with Mel Gibson?

A: It was great. When you get an opportunity to work with guys of Gibson’s stature, y’know, it’s kind of the same way with Nic Cage, in Mel more so because of his other pursuits, the fact that he produces and directs and does it very successfully. That’s a lot for any human to carry on his back. I found Mel to be real accessible and real human. I think Mel’s got a lot of demons chasing him, like a lot of us, but he does it in great style. He’s a very smart guy.

Q: Back to “Off the Map,” how would you characterize the way Campbell Scott works with actors?

A: I think it’s Campbell’s intelligence that serves him so well. He’s got that creative thing in terms of the filmmaking business in his blood. When Colleeen Dewhurst is your mom and George C. Scott is your dad, those are daunting shadows to grow up under. And whatever brought Campbell along, he came fully loaded. He was well prepared.

Q: Thank you so much for your time.

A: My pleasure. Enjoy that snow.

Q: I will.

Altered Steaks: Strange Phenomena Still Rattles New Mexicans

It’s been awhile, but the strangeness still haunts many Northern New Mexicans. Were they space aliens, government “men in black,” time travelers, secret corporate scientists, cultists, natural predators or plain old pranksters that caused the spate of “cattle mutilations” here and other parts of the world?

During a spree that that lasted from the 1970s through the mid-1990s, occurring not only to cattle but untold numbers of other animals, a blanket of fear and mystery settled over certain parts of Northern New Mexico.

Bracketing them was the manner in which the majority of these incidents were made public, often by self-appointed investigators. In general, evidence was described as “unexplained,” “unusual” and “bizarre,” not to mention, “linked” by certain characteristics. But more interestingly, at least to skeptics, was how established authorities regularly offered more practical, common sense and completely ordinary explanations that were dismissed as efforts to debunk the investigator’s work or to cover up a deeper mystery.

Gabe Valdez, a former New Mexico State Police trooper, who looked into many reported cattle mutilation incidents in the Southwest, appeared in a KOAT-TV Channel 7 report last May saying he knows who did it. But, because he considers his findings too delicate, he isn’t about to reveal them ... yet. Which, of course, only adds fuel to the fire surrounding these acts.

According to the well documented lore, classic cases involved the discovery of an animal, typically a cow or bull, lying dead in a field bearing inexplicable wounds, little or no blood in evidence, and no solid clues that might lead law enforcement to the culprits. What leads to so much puzzlement is that certain organs are usually removed “with surgical precision.” These are usually listed as the rectum, liver, sexual organs, tongue, eyes, ears and portions of the hide.

Some incidents have included references to fluorescent markings not placed by the animal’s owner and even evidence of radioactivity. Many of these incidents also have been accompanied by reports of UFO activity, mysteriously silent black helicopters and alien visitations.
Because of the number of people calling themselves investigators or experts on the phenomena running around whenever an incident was made public, John Paternoster, who as district attorney in Taos in the 1990s, decided there needed to be an authentic law enforcement approach to finding out who was responsible — not what.

“UFOs became the leading suspects in at least two ‘cattle mutilations’ that displayed evidence of air turbulence and strange mechanical tracks found near the scene,” according to a story published in 2000 by former The Taos News staffer Phaedra Greenwood. “In 1997 in Arroyo Seco, District Attorney John Paternoster and investigating officer Gabe Valdez discovered mysterious tracks in a field where a bull was found dead and ‘mutilated.’ Mechanical V-shaped indentations were seen all over the field, back-hoe size, 18 to 24 inches in diameter, Valdez said. Gouge marks were five to six inches deep in some places and appeared to have uprooted the grass. Valdez said he had seen similar ground markings near a mutilation in Dulce in 1978. Dulce is on the Jicarilla Apache Indian Reservation in Northwest New Mexico and a renowned site of many other such sightings. The rancher who owned the bull and lived nearby stated he had noticed nothing suspicious the night before, but other witnesses testified that they had seen a green light flying in the area on the night of the bull’s death.”

Greenwood, who reported on a number of cases in Taos County during the 1990s, said that despite an enormous body of conflicting and sometimes bizarre evidence, there is still no clear idea as to the cause. “A UFO is just that,” she said, “an unidentified flying object.”

Recently, she began revisiting the reams of documents, reports, studies and Xeroxed copies of articles she has collected over the years in hopes of possibly compiling a book about her experiences with this phenomena. Among them are dozens of photographs taken at incident scenes which reveal in gory detail what someone or something has done to these animals.

“Every time I open the box, something new comes out,” she said wryly. While a lot of this is obviously of interest to fringe devotees and diehard sleuths, Greenwood remains convinced that someone is working rather hard to manage the information flow. “I think it’s an interesting story.”

“The truth is out there,” as Fox Mulder might say, but how the truth might be accepted is yet to be seen. Greenwood claims that incidents like this are still happening in this area, although most go unreported possibly because people don’t like the media attention or potential ridicule that sometimes follows. Some might be pranks meant for shock value, while others really are just predators or small earthly creatures doing their eternal jobs.

Inevitably, there will be a few incidents lying at the bottom of the bin that will never be explained, and it’s for those that true believers live to find answers.

Po'pay Called the "First American Revolutionary"

Ohkay Owingeh Buffalo Dancers perform in the Capitol Rotunda after the statue of Po'pay is unveiled. Photo by Rick Romancito



Po’pay proved to be a little more humble than anyone expected.

When it came time to unveil the statue of the 1680 Pueblo Revolt leader in the nation’s Capitol Rotunda Thursday afternoon, Sept. 22, 2005, the cloth stubbornly refused to come off. It took the efforts of Rep. Tom Udall and others to finally slide the cloth from the figure’s shoulders to finally reveal the figure it has taken Jemez Pueblo artist Cliff Fragua and Statuary Hall Commission members so long to bring to Washington D.C.

All five members of New Mexico’s delegation were present for the unveiling of the statue of a man, who many called the “leader of the first American Revolution.”

In the decades prior to 1680, New Mexico’s Pueblo Indians became victims of individuals within the Spanish colonial church and military, who sought to eradicate Native language, traditions and religion. This found many Pueblo Indians starved, beaten and sometimes killed for attempting to maintain their traditional cycle of ceremonials vital to their survival. Po’pay, a San Juan Pueblo medicine man, moved to Taos Pueblo in order to formulate plans for the revolt against Spanish oppression. On Aug. 10, the feast of San Lorenzo, the revolt began at Taos and quickly spread throughout the Spanish realm in New Mexico, driving the survivors south into Mexico.

Upon their return 12 years later, the humane treatment originally ordered by superiors in Mexico City was now strengthened and resulted in what Sen. Pete Domenici termed “an enduring lesson of tolerance and diversity.”

The statue is made out of Tennessee marble. It stands seven feet tall. Starting out, it weighed around seven and a half tons when Fragua began carving it in 2002.

The ceremony in the Capitol Rotunda included a traditional blessing by Joe Garcia, governor of San Juan Pueblo — which, he said earlier, will soon be known only as Ohkay Owingeh, its name in the Tewa language. There was also a buffalo dance performed.

“The Po’pay-led insurrection against the Spanish conquerors was, at its core, a basic human and American need to challenge oppressors,” Domenici said. “This statue represents not only the history of a single man, but a legacy that helped ensure the survival of Pueblo and American Indian culture in New Mexico.”

Sen. Jeff Bingaman echoed those sentiments, referring to the fact that the statue of Po’pay was also historic for being the last one added to the Statuary Hall Collection in the Capitol. In addition, it is the only one created by an American Indian artist.

Before the march by tribal leaders to the Capitol from the National Museum of the American Indian, a short walk from the Mall, Fragua said he was “excited and a little nervous because of the caliber of the dedication, but at the same time I also feel real proud that this event is finally happening and that Po’pay is being honored today.”

In an interview with Fragua last May, the artist commented on the struggles that continue today for Indian people, saying, “Yes, the struggle still continues. Although we do not have the type of oppression that Po’pay and his contemporaries had faced, we still do have oppression. Sovereignty is still a big issue among native people and we still strive for that. But, in this day and age, we’re (fighting it) in a civilized way, but the struggle still continues. To this day, we’re still working at surviving as a people to keep our traditions and the culture.”

“Because of Cliff Fragua’s stunning achievement,” Rep. Tom Udall said at the unveiling, “we can get a glimpse of who Po’pay was — as will thousands of visitors to Washington, D.C. each year.”

In the audience were dozens of tribal leaders throughout New Mexico, from Taos Pueblo to Isleta Pueblo del Sur near El Paso. So many, in fact, that an official at a reception the night before quipped “So, who’s minding the store back home?”

San Juan Pueblo Gov. Joe Garcia said he was invigorated by the official unveiling of the statue last May in his home village. He said Indian people may have “sat back for too long,” but that in the past decade resurgence has occurred in Native solidarity. Like Po’pay’s ability to develop a coalition from all the Pueblos in New Mexico, Garcia said, today, Indian people need to remember that lesson.

The unveiling of Po’pay’s statue was also an occasion to set aside centuries held animosities and to celebrate the blend of cultures that began when Don Juan de Oñate established the first Spanish colony in 1598, 22 years before the pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock.

The Po’pay statue will join New Mexico’s statue of the late Sen. Dennis Chavez, which was installed in 1966. For at least the next several months, the Po’pay statue will be displayed in the Capitol Rotunda.

Aeon Flux: Uneventful Horizon

Charlize Theron as "Aeon Flux." Photo courtesy Paramount Pictures


“Aeon Flux,” the MTV series created by Korean designer Peter Chung, was among the wave of science fiction animé that exploded in the 1990s when the west discovered what Asian fans knew for decades — that virtually every fantastical, and even twisted, idea imaginable could find a visual outlet without having to deal with human actors.

One of the main issues with this type of animation is that “Aeon Flux,” and many like it, has attempted to cancel out criticism regarding blatant sexism and misogyny by glorifying a heroine who is stronger, faster and smarter than anyone else — all while wearing next to nothing and acting like, well, a man, when it comes to amoral behavior.

The film version directed by Karyn Kusama, who made waves with “Girlfight” in 2000, smoothes out the sharp edges of Chung’s illustration style (said to resemble a mix of Abstract Expressionist painter Egon Schiele and graphic novel illustrator Jean “Mobius” Giraud) by tossing out the skimpy costumes and opting for a sleek ultra designer look, not only for the still-sexy lead character played by Charlize Theron, but for the whole futuristic universe of the walled-in city-state called Bregna.

“Aeon Flux” is a gorgeous palette of colors and textures, sweeping lines and elegant curvilinear grace notes which suggest that whatever may be wrong in this vision of the future, they still have some really fine architects, technicians and fashion designers working somewhere. But, that’s all it has going for it.

If you buy the whole premise, the only way that such a city could exist is if every nastily human distraction was eliminated, including having renewable resources and factories to create each tool, artifact and disposable item they use, along with scores of workers and a hierarchy of administration that would make Bill Gates’ head spin. I suppose there are arguments that in a future like this, everything has been miniaturized, nanotech engineered and biointegrated to the point that such systems become as outmoded as an 8-track tape player, but why then couldn’t the story have been updated as well?

Here’s the thing: In 2011, a virulent plague has wiped out 99 percent of the human population. The survivors led by a biological researcher named Trevor Goodchild (Marton Czokas) gather together and create the ultimate gated community while Goodchild works on a cure for the virus. Generations later, actually 400 years down the line, the utopian city-state of Bregna has been formed, still led by Goodchild’s direct descendants, who have continued the research. By now, the city is walled off from the rest of the world, which presumably has gone wild.

Things aren’t going well for the people of Bregna, though. Many are experiencing disturbing dreams. Not only that, but dissenters have begun disappearing and even been killed by government agents for belonging to the underground Monican rebellion. Fans of the original series have an idea of what the rebellion is about, but Kusama chalks it up to a plain old revolt against the Goodchild tyranny.

Aeon Flux (Theron), the Monican’s best martial arts-trained secret agent, is motivated by the death of her sister to act with extreme prejudice when the Monican’s leader, The Handler (Frances McDormand), orders her to assassinate Goodchild. But, as Aeon gets closer to Goodchild, she discovers there is a huge lie at the heart of their entire existence.

Gigantic holes in the story and contrivances based wholly on the audience’s willing suspension of disbelief may work for a comic book or deliberately obscure animé, but for a big budget studio movie that relies on a basic plot, even if it is heavily designed to look edgy and futuristic, “Aeon Flux” disintegrates on impact.

There is a virtually limitless universe of literary science fiction to choose from, and yet filmmakers (or the studio suits to whom they answer) continue to be stuck in a shopworn comfort zone of been-there-done-that plots and storylines. And even when they find something new and interesting, they fall back on methods which pare down and hack away at its originality so audiences won’t be challenged by anything more difficult to comprehend than whether its preferable to go into battle with a lightsaber or a blaster.

In a genre that should constantly be in flux, this movies shows that, right now, it’s nothing but a dull, featureless horizon.

National Indian Museum Faces First Year Challenges

Interior National Museum of the American Indian, Washington, D.C. Photo by Rick Romancito, The Taos News


Location, location, location — three words that can mean success for almost any new enterprise.

Sandwiched between the National Air and Space Museum and the U.S. Capitol in Washington, D.C., both number one tourist magnets, the architecturally stunning National Museum of the American Indian still remains uncertain whether that axiom will prove true after weathering its first year on the Mall.

The museum celebrated its first anniversary Sept. 21 with several special events, not the least of which were exhibitions of works by Allan Houser and George Morrison.

Education Manager Claire Cuddy, who was sent over to NMAI from its administrator, the Smithsonian Institution, to help get it going in its first year, was happy the long process to get the museum built has come this far.

“We’ve made great progress,” she said, “because our exhibits were installed and the doors opened.” But, she said, one thread remained loose. “We didn’t know who our audience would be.”

One of the staff’s biggest accomplishments this past year, she said, was finding the answer to that question. During its development, the NMAI in Washington, sister to the NMAI’s Heye Museum in New York City, found itself facing many expectations, some rather conflicting.

Many tribes saw it as a place to represent their own specific interests, issues and history, while those in academia saw it as a defining venture, a place to put to rest misconceptions and stereotypes, facts that educators could wrap their minds around. What they found were many versions of the truth, a history and cultural fabric entwined with unconfirmed oral recollection, and differing opinions on who and what to believe. Since the Smithsonian is the type of institution that takes its information very seriously, such gray areas weren’t likely to stay that way if it was going to incorporate the NMAI’s interests into its educational programs.

In 2004, when the museum opened to the sight of 25,000 Indians from more than 500 tribes from all over the Americas, its mission was emotionally set forth by Executive Director W. Richard West Jr. when he welcomed “home” the thousands Indians who filled the Mall. This was to be their museum, and it was considered about time that an unmistakable American Indian presence was felt in the nation’s capitol. On that level, it has been an accomplishment for which to be proud.

Going through the new Changing Exhibitions Gallery with Jemez Pueblo historian and author Joe Sando, Clear Light publisher Marcia Keegan, and others from New Mexico affiliated with the Sept. 21installation of a statue honoring the Pueblo Revolt leader Po’pay in the Capitol’s Statuary Hall, it was clear that a piece of their heritage that speaks from the heart is in a place of great importance and dignity.

Among them was Estella Loretto, a Jemez Pueblo sculptor who was Houser’s last apprentice until his death in 1994. Loretto, who also lived for a while at Taos Pueblo, was clearly in awe of seeing her mentor’s work so beautifully displayed. The exhibition includes the Apache artist’s first work, “Comrade in Mourning” (1948), a monumental statue created to honor American Indians who died in World War II, and another of sublime radiance from 1988 titled “As Long as the Winds Shall Blow” (a larger version of which is installed at the Oklahoma State Capitol)

Morrison, of the Grand Portage Band of Chippewa who died in 2000, is best known for his paintings, wood collages and sculptures rooted in Abstract Expressionism and Surrealism which drew inspiration from “his memories of the horizon over Lake Superior,” according to an NMAI fact sheet. But it was Houser’s sculptures and vivid paintings to which visitors seemed to respond the most.

“We know we’re not doing it right, but we don’t know what to do. Can you help us?” That’s what teachers say more times than not when they call the NMAI, according to Cuddy. “We have kids coming in thinking that all Native people live in teepees. And, of course, that there are no Native people today.” To combat such negative views, the NMAI has a policy of hiring Native staff. “That is my main mission,” Cuddy said. Not only that but only Native interpreters can lead groups through the museum.

Driving home this concept is an exhibit titled “Our Lives: Contemporary Life and Identities,” which shows at its entrance the viewer surrounded on either side by images of Native people walking along with them. In a sense, it states that Indians are still here, they’re proud, get used to it.

During a Wednesday (Sept. 21)reception at the Diplomatic and Consular Officers, Retired (DACOR, Inc) and Bacon House, prior to the Pop’ay installation, San Juan Pueblo Governor Joe Garcia recalled the day last May when artist Cliff Fragua unveiled his sculpture made from a large block of Tennessee limestone. He said on that day he was stuck by the sense of a “fresh energy” flowing through the Indian nations. And when the sunlight fell upon the new sculpture of a man who symbolizes Native solidarity and sovereignty, he felt that Indians have become “a group the United States will have to reckon with.”

In 1680, the Ohkay Owingeh (San Juan Pueblo) medicine man Pop’ay organized a revolt against Spanish colonists that began at Taos Pueblo. Born of decades of oppression and violence rooted in ignorance and intolerance, Pop’ay and the Pueblo Indians of New Mexico enacted what many have called “the first American revolution.” The sentiment in Washington this week, is that such solidarity is just what they need now more than ever.

So, what is the NMAI’s audience?

Cuddy and others at the museum believe that it is the people who walk into its doors — namely tourists and school children. But, even more, it is the international population that knows nothing about Indians, their cultures, diversity, lifeways and continuing presence. To many, Indians no longer exist. They have melted into mainstream America. Those that do exist live on impoverished reservations rife with alcoholism, unemployment and despair — or rich from government or corporate allotments, which have made them into white red men.

Seraphim's Blessing

The high altitude set for "Serephim Falls" above Taos Ski Valley, New Mexico. Photo courtesy Lorey Sebastian/Icon Entertainment Intl.


I had an opportunity to sit down for a chat with director David Van Ancken on the evening of Nov. 22, 2005 at the Edelweiss Hotel in Taos Ski Valley. He and his crew from Mel Gibson's Icon Entertainment are shooting a new period western in the mountains above Taos, New Mexico. It is called "Seraphim Falls" and it stars Pierce Brosnan, Liam Neeson and Anjelica Huston. It is scheduled for release sometime in 2006.

The story is set in a period shortly after the Civil War. A Confederate colonel is unwilling to forget the wrongs be attributes to a Union soldier and, despite the cessation of hostilities, decides to continue pursuing him across a mythical west.

While Neeson and other crew members bellied up to the bar to unwind after a day's successful shoot, I found a table with Van Ancken and publicist Blaise Noto.

Q: Is the location working for you? (shot the ending of the movie today, Nov. 22, 2005)

David Von Ancken: The location’s fantastic. It’s the only place in the state with snow. We’re here at 12,000 feet. It’s incredibly beautiful watching the sunrise every morning. And everybody’s responding to it as if it were build to the story.

Q: You’ve done a lot of television work and this is your first feature film. Does this mark a change of direction for you?

A: I think I’ll do both. I rather enjoy doing good quality television, but, having written this and having the chance to work with such a talented group affords me a chance to control more than in television. With any luck, hopefully that will yield something, especially for the people involved.

Q: You’ve got two Irish actors as leads in a film set just after the Civil War. What went into the decision to cast Liam Neeson and Pierce Brosnan?

A: It was just chance. As I was writing this with my writing partner (Abby Everett Jaques) we were talking about certain people, then there’s a certain soulfulness to certain actors that this script needs. Because, what I was going for, in telling the story, was essentially very little dialogue. You know, stripping away the white noise of conversation and getting back to a, not just a period piece in terms of costumes and what type of guns you have to carry, but the fact that people didn’t talk too much in 1868. These guys are certainly not talky individuals, as characters.

Q: They don’t play Irish.

A: No. But, anybody from that period of time most likely came from Europe. Liam (Colonel Morsman Carver) is playing, sort of, a middle southerner. Pierce (Gideon) is playing a Union officer, so, two halfs.

Q: Would it be wrong to call this a “chase” picture?

A: You can call it whatever you like, but it’s really a — the action is visceral, and action is what we’re shooting on top of this mountain. Literally falling down the mountain from the top of the snow, into this desert in Lordsburg, where we were last week. So, it has specific, and I think very authentic action elements to it. And what I was trying to go back to and what we every day try to practice is the world of as limited CG as you can have, perhaps none. Ideally, no computer assisted chase sequences, but rather in-camera and in the bodies of these two great actors. If you throw them at something that’s real, they will throw back a performance at you that is fascinating. And we have been practicing that for the last 28 days or whatever it is. Yeah, it’s a chase movie, but it’s much more of a movie about finding out what’s important and when to let go of things so you don’t destroy yourself.

Q: How long have you been working on the script?

A: I researched the script for about six months, and wrote it in about three or four. Then, tweaked it for a couple of months, so over about a year.

Q: Was there ever a chance someone else might have directed it, instead of you?

A: No, I was offered a lot of money for it, at one point, by some element of a studio, with the proviso that I would not direct it. I decided not to take that route. I didn’t really write it to sell it. I wrote it because it came out of a frustration from reading a lot of scripts that I thought ‘I can do better than that.” And, eventually, someone said “Do that.” And, eventually, someone like Bruce Davey at Icon saw this sort of energy we could put behind this and make this both a very high impact action movie that actually says something. I’m not going to define what it says but if each person who’s involved with this has come to me and said, “This means this to me.” And none of them are wrong. Ultimately, I wrote it for a reason. It says something about anti-war. It says something about two men finding themselves with no more energy left for hatred and they somehow have to survive, and ultimately help each other, even if they’ve spent the last 90 minutes trying to kill each other.

At this point, producer David Flynn joined us.

Q: The visuals in this movie sound as though they were designed to be a character itself. I’m sure your choice of cinematographer had a lot to do with that.

David Flynn: This is really a question for David (Von Ancken), but, yes, the environment is definitely the third main lead in the movie, absolutely.

Q: Tell me about your choice for director of photography.

Von Ancken: John Toll was very high on our list and I was really excited (to get him). Many people came together for this and I feel very lucky and we work hard to make it worth everybody’s collective energy every day, but John Toll specifically read the script and came at us. He is an available-light master, as far as I’m concerned. He’s done a lot of great work where he uses very little, besides a white bounce board. People have showed up on our set and said “Where’s movie set?” There aren’t fifteen 18K lights. There are just four guys holding a white bounce card and four guys holding a four-by-eight piece of black cloth. He’s all about removing light. He sees the world and he takes light away, as far as I’m concerned. I mean I’ve never talked with him about it, but that’s what I watch. And we’ve just come from dailies and they look fantastic every night. What David Flynn just said is kind of the mantra that I was thinking while writing it. The more removed from civilization we were taking these guys, the more the environment and nature were elevated as a character. We bring them through, what I find, several very interesting characters from Tom Noonan to Anjelica Huston (who has relatives living in Taos), but the reality is the third lead in this movie is the world in which they walk, run.

Q: This is a depiction of the mythic west.

A: I think any time you take two men and strip down what drives them to the primal essentials you have a myth on your hands. And what we did very carefully was take them into the wild, away from — there’s no town in this movie, there’s nothing, there’s a railroad camp, but it is basically hell. And, once you go into nothingness, and you’re left with just the person you’re looking at or yourself, there’s a mythic element there.

Q: What are some of the challenges you’ve faced in making this movie?

A: Have you looked at the top of this mountain? At 4:30 in the morning it is dark and cold. Last week we were in boiling hot and cracked Lordsburg. It is all about the weather.

Flynn: There’s one small set that’s an interior, but the whole movie’s shot exterior. For anybody scheduling or budgeting a movie for that, it’s a huge challenge.

Von Ancken: We have a 46 day schedule and we’re carrying three days or cover with us, meaning we have a set, that we haven’t shot yet, on purpose, that is our only insurance policy. On a normal movie with 45-58 (days) would have half inside, at the very least. We just went into it and we’ve been very lucky in New Mexico because when we need for it to be sunny, it’s sunny; when we need it to be cold, it’s been cold. The snow situation scared us but, here in Taos, we found snow at above 10,000 feet. With any luck, Monday it’s going to snow here. The vistas we’ve found could play for the eastern Rockies. They could play for Nevada. They could play for the Alps. The stuff behind Taos Ski Valley is just fantastic looking.

Q: What’s it like working with Pierce Brosnan and Liam Neeson?

A: It’s very simple. They’re very dedicated, talented, immensely watchable individuals and they come to this project — I’ll say I’m lucky again, and I’ll probably say it five more times if you keep interviewing me, but they come to this project with an incredible degree of concentration and an incredible degree of devotion for no other reason than the project itself. And each of those actors feeds off the other because each of those guys realizes the other guy is vested in this and the other guy is there. Their performances are concentrated and very authentic characters. So, what is it like to work with them? It is an absolute fucking dream. That’s what it’s like working with them. And you can quote me on that. I’ve shot 150 days in the last year, on a lot of big TV shows with a lot of name actors, and these guys are unbelievably focused, driven and committed. I think all of us, from every PA up to the producers to Flynn, to myself , we notice this every day with them. It does not go unnoticed for five minutes on the set.

Executive producer Stan Wlodkowski also sat in for a moment.

Q: What went into the decision to shoot in New Mexico? You could have shot in Canada or …

Stan Wlodkowski: We looked at Canada and to be honest with you New Mexico has a great film incentive program, which gave us a big reason to come here, but also you have an incredible variety of locations. This is a western that begins in snowy mountains and ends on the desert floor and there’s not a lot of places where you have those two things within five hours driving distance of each other.

Q: It kind of showcases New Mexico’s features then?

A: We are an absolute advertisement for beauty of New Mexico. A few days ago, we were shooting 80 degrees in Lordsburg and today were shooting 20 degrees at the top of Taos Mountain. You don’t get that kind of variety in many other places. So, it happened to have exactly what we needed for this movie. It also happens to have a very strong film community in Santa Fe with some wonderful technicians, which we were glad to take advantage of.

Conversation with Daniel Lanois

Photograph of Daniel Lanois in Taos by Rick Romancito, The Taos News



This was an interview I conducted in 2003 with musician Daniel Lanois, whose legendary collaboration with U2 produced "The Joshua Tree" album. Lanois was getting ready for a performance in Taos, New Mexico.

Q: We’re looking forward to your appearance here in Taos.

Daniel Lanois: Oh, yeah, me too. You know, it’s been awhile since I’ve been in New Mexico. Great to see what’s going on your town.

Q: We’re a fairly small town but there are a lot of creative energies going around here. I understand you grew up in a small town in Canada.

A: That’s right. I’m French-Canadian. As a French kid and, uh, my mom transported the family when I was about 10 to the Toronto area, so it’s all, uh. The town itself is called Hamilton, which is a steel town like Pittsburg. It’s like a sister city to Pittsburg. And it’s a tough place. It’s industrial, it’s all about steel. You want to do music, you’ve got to struggle. As I talk to my friends, they say ‘Well, you should consider that somewhat of a blessing.’ You know, having come from the unlikely side of the tracks because it’ll make a fighter out of you.

Q: What were your early influences or interests in music? How did you get into all of that?

A: It was violin-playing around the house. My dad and my grandfather were both violin players. It was kind of a poor setting. Nobody had any cash, so it was a self-entertainment society. The weekend was largely about bustin’ out the violins and doin’ some singin’. And, I think, there was something sweet about that, that kind of entered my bloodstream. It was certainly melodic music, definitely French. Those roots are still with me. Those melodies still make their ways into my songs, like, there’s a song on my record (“Shine”) called “As Tears Roll By.” It pretty much has one of those old violin melodies in it.

Q: As you were becoming more interested in music, was there any one thing that did it for you, that changed your direction in life and made you decide this is what you were really going to do?

A: I guess I looked at the options that were available to me as a teenager and I realized that my gift and my interest were really sort of my ticket out of the potential blaséness I saw on the horizon. It was just a magic world for me, you know, a place where imagination can run wild.

Q: Was there any one particular break for you?

A: You know, I think nighttime radio really changed the course of my life. As I told you, I lived in this town called Hamilton, but geographically between Buffalo, NY and Detroit, Mich., and there was a lot of really great radio at that time, in the 60s, that kind of energy, and, for that matter, quality. There was a lot of rhythm and blues music, Motown, all that stuff. Psychedelic music was starting to bust. I think that nighttime radio, the mystery of it is what drew me into it. Coming into sexuality. It was just a really vibrant time and I just decided that I wanted to be on the magic side of the fence.

Q: Well, you certainly seem to have gotten onto the magical side, having worked with U2, Brian Eno and Emmylou Harris.

A: Yeah, those are, speaking of imagination, those folks have really got it. And it’s contagious. When you’re hanging around, working, brainstorming with people who are real smart and have vision, it rubs off and it’s just sort of a great arena to be in. you know, I met Brian Eno, my skills were pretty high when I met Brian, but I had not had a chance to hook into something quite the way I was imagining and he presented me with some possibilities. Probably the greatest lessons were dedicating yourself to something that you believe in. No so much the potential commerciality of it but just the musicality. Those are the lessons that ultimately stay with you. They’re more esthetic than financial.

Q: How would you define your particular “sound” to your music? It’s been referred to, in some ways, as kind of “tripped out,” “psychedelic” and “melodic.”

A: Yeah, well you’re comin’ in with some big compliments there. “Tripped out,” “psychedelic” and “melodic,” I’ll accept all that. Melody is at the top of the list of priorities. Tripped out, let’s just say that means breaking some kind of ground sonically — and it’s the ongoing mystery of records to me. You know, the potential of like reinventing an instrument or just looking at it in ways its never been seen before. That’s it. It’s what keeps me inside the laboratory.

Q: A lot of “Shine” was recorded in Mexico.

A: I went to Mexico, somewhat on a sabbatical and mostly to get away from the usual urban crossroads. You know, when you look at your life and you think, Jeeze, I’ve spent most of it in cities. I wanted to be exposed to another kind of culture. Not only did I think that the Mexican music sounded the best on juke boxes, I wanted to be in a place where people were concentrating on their own thoughts and it wasn’t so much about cramming in as much of a day into a cell phone as possible. But, without any doubt, the way of looking at the world, the imagination that exists south of the border is appealing to me.

Q: So you stepped back from the hectic music business. That must have been quite a change?

A: It’s nice to step out of the race, whatever the race happens to mean to you, because we get pretty used to our environment and we’re quite resilient as human beings, and we accommodate whatever gets thrown at us. The fact is, a change goes a long way and it’s nice to visit other cultures. I would highly recommend it to any North American.

Q: You might get a little hint of that when you come to Taos. This is a very small town and it has some very rural sensibilities but also some fairly cosmopolitan attitudes here as well.

A: Well, it’s great. It’s a magic part of the world, for sure. Are we close enough to (get) some stragglers from Albuquerque and some of the other neighbor towns?

Q: Possibly. Albuquerque’s about two and a half, three hours away.

A: Right, that’s kind of a long way.

Q: Santa Fe’s about an hour and a half or so.

A: Right, ok. Well, when I asked my agent, I said “What’s up? Why aren’t we playing Santa Fe?” And he said, “Well, Taos was your best offer.” (laughs)

Q: Well, it’s a pretty good offer. Taos is a whirlwind.

A: I’m looking forward to it.

Q: What’s the best part of producing? Do you ever find it frustrating, being a musician?

A: When I’m producing, I know that come the end of the record I won’t have to be touring or publicizing or promoting it. So, it’s a very selfish situation. I get to be creative and then I get to go to bed. But I don’t believe there are any frustrations. I see there’s a lovely opportunity to have an exchange with people. I really believe in the power of osmosis. If you’re excited about your work and you bring something to the table, and an artist does the same. It’s just a really lovely communication and a chance to exchange some philosophies, and then those’ll bleed into the next project that comes along, whether it be my own or someone else’s. That’s just the power of evolution.

Q: I know a lot of local fans would be interested in hearing a little bit about your relationship with U2 and Bono.

A: It’s an entirely creative relationship that I have with those guys. And a musical one. But probably the part of it that gets the smallest amount of attention is the kind of spiritual bond between us. It’s the most intangible. Obviously, it can’t be measured by technology. We call it the Heart and Soul content. It’s just something that happens between us, chemically. Not induced by drugs, mind you. Just talking about old fashioned human exchange. They’re humanitarians and so am I.

Q: There’s a lot of passion in their music, as well as social and political awareness too. Is that part of your relationship as well?

A: I try and include political awareness in my own work. You know, that song “As Tears Roll By” has some references to the Tower of Babel, and it’s sort of my backdoor way of dealing with an empire’s perspective. Things get bigger and bigger and bigger and we stop looking at the soil we’ve built our buildings on. Eventually, the spirit may come crying out of the ground. How’s that for a bit of New Mexico perspective?

Q: You got it right there.

A: It’s the balance that’s real important, at any given time. As a race, we will be fascinated with our current flavors, perhaps they will be technological ones or commerce related ones. But, you know, we step back from whatever the current buzz might be, I think we’ll certainly see a broader picture. I address some of those issues in that song.

Q: You’ve done a number of pieces for films (such as Billy Bob Thornton’s “Sling Blade”). What’s the big switch that you have to click over when you do music for movies as opposed to music for your latest album?

A: I’ve always felt that they were all connected. Being a visual person, I had a great opportunity to work with Billy Bob Thornton and his movie, “Sling Blade,” and I hope it’s always that way for me, that one-on-one relationship. But it’s very suitable for me because, until my music fully becomes song, oftentimes it will, sort of, half-painted canvasses are really great for film because the absence of certain ingredients allows the imagination to fill in the blanks, because that’s the thing to remember about music for film. In a way, it’s kind of incomplete music and it becomes complete with the presence of the picture. It’s perfect for me, given that I have as big a library as I have of beginnings.

Q: Often filmmakers say it’s difficult to find a really good musician-composer to do film music because they want their music to stand alone. Because, when it’s being used in a film, it has to serve the visual half of the creative equation.

A: That’s a good point. Well, I feel that, you know in the 60s there were some pretty adventurous filmmakers, why don’t we say that “Easy Rider” was the beginning of like rock songs in movies, or “Apocalypse Now.” So, let’s take the immediate climate of our society and stick it in the music, just like “Here’s what’s goin’ on and we’re gonna mirror that by putting in a bunch of this stuff in the movie, it really worked great. I think, as the pendulum swings, it’s gone too far. And when it reaches a point where decisions are based on commerce rather than filmic and musical impact, i.e. a label will say “We gotta get this band doing a song in that movie.” So, oftentimes, you get things that’re just rammed into films and you wonder what the hell’s this have to do with anything? So, I’m hoping, as the pendulum swings, that there’ll be more brave filmmakers who say “I want to work with this individual, because I really believe that their personality, their intensity, their vision, is going to be supporting the spine of this film. Rather than having it be a garnish based on some sort of office decision. I think that we’ve seen some fine examples of that. In the classics, they wouldn’t think of having 20 people making a musical contribution. “Paris, Texas” has a very concentrated soundtrack. It wasn’t about “Let’s get 50 different slide players.” It was “One will be ok.” So, I think, what I have to offer potentially towards film is that very thing. If I was invited to, by a great filmmaker to work on a great film, I would do a great soundtrack. I think it’s probably the way of the future. At least, a slice of it.

Q: Where do you think you’ll be in about 10 years, musically?

A: Ten years? I think that, given I’m going to be putting out records regularly now, about every 10 months I’m going to put out a record, I think I’ll probably be doing exactly the same thing I’m doing now. Putting out records, make them as interesting as possible. I want them to be, you know, still considerations for music listeners in 10, 20 years time. I’m hoping that it’s my slight off-chance at immortality. (laughs)

Q: We all try for that.

A: We’re all headin’ for the same place. We might as well have something we’re proud of there, either hanging on walls or on people’s CD players.

Q: Thanks a lot Daniel, I appreciate your time.

A: My pleasure. Looking forward to coming to New Mexico.