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26th Oct 2005
The Desert Lab
Wednesday, 26th October, 2005
I was up quite early this morning. I had a talk to finalise which I was going to deliver to the Natural Resources students at a lunchtime seminar. Minor re-shuffles of the Vermont paper required. I got up to Rays for about 9.30 and we set off for the university – slightly confusing we have the University of Arizona here in Tucson and the Arizona State University back in Phoenix; I suspect there is some competition between them.
Ray’s a member of the President’s Club at the uni and that gives us some parking privileges; but either way, downtown parking is a complete nightmare. We went along to Bob Webb’s Office and met with him and Diane Boyer who is the photographic collection archivist. Bob spent time working with Ray and is largely his protégé on the rephotography matters … and is now extremely busy with all manner of projects of his own.
One of the first things Bob asked was ‘What do you know about our work?’ and turning to Ray “Have you shown him our stuff?” Well, not much … and sort of was the jist of the two answers and so a large cupboard was thrown open and book after book held up. “Do you have this one? The answer was ‘No’ to all but one and so a pile developed on the desk in front …
It was great morning I heard a few anecdotes from their fieldwork journeys down the Grand Canyon and we exchanged experiences on various photographic matters. One of the early observations which Bob made when returning to some of Ray’s original photographic stations, was that there was frequently an empty tequila bottle in the vicinity … and we discussed this and the more interesting detritus found during rephotographs such as items found in the canyon from the Wesley Powell and the Stanton expeditions a hundred and more years before.
One of the major differences between the scientists on rephotography missions and the ‘artists’ is this recording of artefacts. Within science circles it is simply documented in a note book – a cursory note mentioning that a broken photographic plate was found at the location for example … to the ‘artist’ it is photographed in situ, recorded and at times collected, as an artefact and a vital component in the telling of the story of change.
After an hour or so, we went to look at the archive with Diane. They are committing the cardinal sin of keeping all their negatives, prints and field notes in the same room; they are aware of it and advise others against … but have not got the space for the alternative.
For lunch we all went along to a Mexican café on campus … it was a great venue; rough and ready and served all of us for less than $20. Mine was some class of a meal called a Red Moley – chicken and red bean sauce … and some home fried Doritos and water.
We turned up at the Natural Resources Building just about 12.45 to meet Bob Marrin who was the seminar co-ordinator. Unfortunately the power point was dodgy so the whole lot went black half way through while it cooled down … and then the sound wouldn’t work. However, there was sufficient volume from the laptop itself for someone to stand up at the end and make a small advertisement for the University Scottish Country Dancing Group, (which meets on a Tuesday if anyone is interested).
There were some useful questions and with more time some remarkably good contacts; There was a guy there from Arizona Water who was desperate to give me tour of his sewerage works; sadly time did not allow. Also a lady working on Bobcats.
The normal curriculum resumed at 2 and we were released back into the baking heat of downtown Tucson and all returned to Bob’s office to collect my extremely heavy ‘loot’ and bid farewell.
Driving out of town, Ray described some of the changes in the city since his first arrival there in the thirties and pointed out some of the feature buildings that would have been in place at that time. I loved particularly the tale he told me as we passed his old school; still a junior school and a great old fashioned building on three floors with dusty playground all around it. This was after the Depression and times were fairly hard; there were quite a few Mexican immigrants working locally and their kids were attending school. Many of the kids were barefoot.
One of the teachers at the school had lost an arm at some point and instead he had a hook. The hook was dexterous to a point and had a spring loaded fork in the end to enable him to hold a pen or chalk (or whatever). The other main feature in the story was what Ray described as a ‘wooden educator’ a shaped slat of wood with a handle which was applied to miscreants.
On this particular occasion, he remembers a Mexican boy being ‘invited’ up to the front (That was the word he used … can you imagine? ‘Would you care to step up to the front, Gonzalez’) and having seen previous performances where the teacher inserted his hook into the childs belt, lifted them clear of the ground and then ‘educated’ their backsides … the little Mexican decided not to hang around. Ray pointed to the window on the first floor from where he jumped, barefoot, down into the playground. ‘Its one of my most vivid memories’, he said, ‘the dust that that little fellows heels kicked up in the dirt as he ran across the yard on his way home’.
Just out of town to the south west lies the hill upon which the Desert Lab is built. It’s a great location. The hillsides are saguaro forest and the buildings just over half way up the hill are stone built from a basalt-like rock (andesite perhaps?). Inside the rooms are cool and lined with old timbers; a bit like a plantation house.
The lab was set up in 1906 and has a chequered history with land being secured eventually by the University and occupied by USGS. This early establishment is key to work that Ray has been doing as the original observers here used photography to document the vegetation of the hill and the surrounding desert during their times. These pictures, re-taken after fifty years and since, at least decadally, form the basis of the long term study. Many of the pictures were taken from roadsides and although the dirt roads have sometimes ‘migrated’ or been abandoned completely, the locations of hundreds of photographs have been re-found.
We spent a half hour or so with Jan Bowers; Jan has worked at the lab since the early 80s (again hired by Ray) and has had a series of ecological essays published over the years,. Her since is perhaps the science of the fifties; high on anecdote and observation and short of statistics and graphs … but for that her work is all the more valuable.
At the back of the lab lie some of the experimental plots … and I find it strange to think that Ray has been following the individual fates of some of these cacti .. since they emerged from the ground … and even so they won’t have reached the point where they start to produce limbs; this happens after they reach 75.
We got back to Fort Lowell at about 5 and it took me another 45 minutes to negotiate the traffic as far as Vistoso. The Pima hills north of the city which I have to skirt around to get back to base just glow pink as the sun falls.
This evening we’re all staying in and Anne decide to do a bit of home cooking.
It’s a relaxed evening; the boys are watching the world series (baseball), I’m typing in notes of my meetings and Anne is distributing hot dogs. After the first bite or two on the dogs there was a bit of a conspiratorial glance around between us all … followed by a ‘Would anyone like any water?’ which was in addition to beer and required in order to wash these things down. Anne was just putting another lot in to boil and enquired how things were going … slight silence; ‘Well, they’re different to what we have at home’.
Having looked at the packet she came up with the entirely believable statement that they were actually dog food. She thought she was so funny and was completely paralysed at the row of blank faces still trying to chew and swallow these offerings. Anyway it wasn’t quite as bad as all that, but they were soya meat hotdogs and hence the difference.
I was quite late going to bed this evening and before I went, the calls of the coyotes outside, filled the night. They must have been close. There were whines and snarls and barks from the bush nearby. Harry managed to get a recording of it on his camera video; I thought he might have gone out stalking them to get a better sound, but he very bravely did it from a position of safety, from behind the flyscreen.
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Diary Photos
| 26th Oct 2005 |
| Saguaros |
| These old cacti are probably a hundred and something years each - they don't 'limb' til they're 75 |
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