In case you haven't seen it - TVR back in the paper!
Anna Webb put us in her end of year Life article. :) There is also another pic of our looooovely Devil's Dimes! :)
Unexpected Artists
There was a time, I speak of Boise circa 1975, when Downtown was desolate, Idaho was too-often mixed up with Iowa - well, perhaps we haven't quite outgrown that one - and Boise was a punch line.
What was always cool about this town, though, was that even before it became the darling of "most livable," "most bikeable," "most business-friendly" lists, it tended to breed artists.
As long as I can remember, Boise has been home to people who quietly, confidently, do their own thing.
I always figured it had to do with the unacceptability of the status quo if you grow up feeling fond of your hometown, but out of place in it, too. If you want to stay, you have to find, or more often create, a private place where you're happy.
My great delight in writing features for the Statesman's Life section, has been discovering that while Boise has grown, the same kinds of creative people still live here, like they always have.
Performers, writers and visual artists are legion and inspiring, but the unexpected artists especially intrigue me.
I think of the women of Juan Martinez's welding class at Boise State, Annie Berglund, Melissa Corp, Kimberly Ecklund, Lerina Harris and Erika Sather-Smith. Commercial welders, they created a metal bra sculpture suitable for Barbarella or a Valkyrie. They donated the piece to a fundraising auction to fight breast cancer.
Rita Sturiale opened her house to Preservation Idaho's Heritage Home Tour this year. The North Ender insists she's never thrown anything away in her whole life. The rock given to her by a high school boyfriend that still decorates her patio is good evidence.
Her home is a quirky museum of armadillo purses, dolls and things you'd find in a cellar. She leaves spider webs intact because she thinks they're beautiful. My favorite new structure in town may be the greenhouse she built entirely of salvaged windows. It hangs on the side of her Queen Anne house, keeping her substantial cacti collection warm all winter.
I love the Treasure Valley Rollergirls, a group of local women who started Boise's first flat track roller derby league. They don't just skate. They marry art, athletics and considerable humor into one campy mix.
Each woman has created an elaborate persona for the track, like "Nurse Naughty," a zaftig beauty whose roller motto is "Your pain is soon going to be 10 out of 10," and "Devil's Dimes." She's a blond, pixie-ish woman, except for her horns.
Two of my favorite places in town also are depositories for the unexpectedly artistic. The Idaho Historical Archives and Library is home to one of the most haunting photo collections I've ever seen - mugshots of the women imprisoned in the Old Pen from 1887 to 1968. History books often detail the bright and industrious in society. These small photographs detail the dark side of Idaho life that didn't make the history books.
Then there's the Historical Society's storage warehouse in a secret location near Downtown Boise. The dusty jars of ossified Chinese medicines, memorial wreaths made of human hair and a horse's Ku Klux Klan hood wrapped in tissue paper are only a few of the reasons the place is known as "Idaho's attic."
Vietnam vet Joe Toluse looks after the collection, attempting to catalogue everything in the place. When he's not on the job, he likes to amass his own collection of chopsticks.
To offer story ideas or comments, contact reporter Anna Webb at awebb@idahostatesman.com or 377-6431.
Unexpected Artists
There was a time, I speak of Boise circa 1975, when Downtown was desolate, Idaho was too-often mixed up with Iowa - well, perhaps we haven't quite outgrown that one - and Boise was a punch line.
What was always cool about this town, though, was that even before it became the darling of "most livable," "most bikeable," "most business-friendly" lists, it tended to breed artists.
As long as I can remember, Boise has been home to people who quietly, confidently, do their own thing.
I always figured it had to do with the unacceptability of the status quo if you grow up feeling fond of your hometown, but out of place in it, too. If you want to stay, you have to find, or more often create, a private place where you're happy.
My great delight in writing features for the Statesman's Life section, has been discovering that while Boise has grown, the same kinds of creative people still live here, like they always have.
Performers, writers and visual artists are legion and inspiring, but the unexpected artists especially intrigue me.
I think of the women of Juan Martinez's welding class at Boise State, Annie Berglund, Melissa Corp, Kimberly Ecklund, Lerina Harris and Erika Sather-Smith. Commercial welders, they created a metal bra sculpture suitable for Barbarella or a Valkyrie. They donated the piece to a fundraising auction to fight breast cancer.
Rita Sturiale opened her house to Preservation Idaho's Heritage Home Tour this year. The North Ender insists she's never thrown anything away in her whole life. The rock given to her by a high school boyfriend that still decorates her patio is good evidence.
Her home is a quirky museum of armadillo purses, dolls and things you'd find in a cellar. She leaves spider webs intact because she thinks they're beautiful. My favorite new structure in town may be the greenhouse she built entirely of salvaged windows. It hangs on the side of her Queen Anne house, keeping her substantial cacti collection warm all winter.
I love the Treasure Valley Rollergirls, a group of local women who started Boise's first flat track roller derby league. They don't just skate. They marry art, athletics and considerable humor into one campy mix.
Each woman has created an elaborate persona for the track, like "Nurse Naughty," a zaftig beauty whose roller motto is "Your pain is soon going to be 10 out of 10," and "Devil's Dimes." She's a blond, pixie-ish woman, except for her horns.
Two of my favorite places in town also are depositories for the unexpectedly artistic. The Idaho Historical Archives and Library is home to one of the most haunting photo collections I've ever seen - mugshots of the women imprisoned in the Old Pen from 1887 to 1968. History books often detail the bright and industrious in society. These small photographs detail the dark side of Idaho life that didn't make the history books.
Then there's the Historical Society's storage warehouse in a secret location near Downtown Boise. The dusty jars of ossified Chinese medicines, memorial wreaths made of human hair and a horse's Ku Klux Klan hood wrapped in tissue paper are only a few of the reasons the place is known as "Idaho's attic."
Vietnam vet Joe Toluse looks after the collection, attempting to catalogue everything in the place. When he's not on the job, he likes to amass his own collection of chopsticks.
To offer story ideas or comments, contact reporter Anna Webb at awebb@idahostatesman.com or 377-6431.