Experimentation and cross pollination in my work

•October 5, 2014 • Leave a Comment
Altered version of storm west of Datil, NM

Altered version of storm west of Datil, NM

CLICK IMAGE TO ENLARGE

 

Experimentation has been a major part of my creative process since I was a boy.

 

It was the driving force that brought me into both the sciences and the arts.

 

People often think I’m crazy to be juggling music, photography and film making projects all at once. In part I do it because each becomes an escape from the other. But I also work multi discipline projects simultaneously because thought processes developed in one have a way of spilling over into another.

 

West of Datil, NM, July 2014

The original image: West of Datil, NM, July 2014

Case in point. In my music making, filters have long been a means to creating more interesting textures and colors in my digital tracks. Just recently I began applying filters in Photoshop to my still photography to experiment in a similar way.

 

Doing so is opening a whole new avenue of discovery.

 

Images I thought I knew well suddenly took on an extraterrestrial quality.

 

In July I travelled to Albuquerque. NM, taking the scenic route through northern Arizona. While in New Mexico my brother John, his wife Betsy and I visited the Valles Caldera region – an extinct super volcano that is now filled with tree lined ridges and meadows well fitted to use by the cattle industry as grazing land.

 

Altered version of Valles Caldera, NM cattle grazing land

Altered version of Valles Caldera, NM cattle grazing land

The panoramic images I originally took there were lush and beautiful.

 

But when I applied multiple filtration processes to the same image, the warmth of summer turned into a surreal arctic scene. It had a whole different vibe about it.

 

Similarly on my way back I traveled through Datil, NM, where the very large radio telescope array is located. Near Datil I encountered an epic batch of monsoon storms sweeping across the open plain. Like many western monsoon outburst, the storms were localized and sunlight streamed through from the other horizon.

 

Filtered this panorama took on the most other worldly look of the batch so far.

 

Unaltered Valles Caldera image

Unaltered Valles Caldera image

In a similar way, I have been working with performance artist Laura Milkins over the last few years on an experimental film in which multiple landscapes are cross faded and blended to create the illusion of a new landscape. Just recently I began blending photographic images from different sites to see what the composite image might become. It too is a striking new direction.

 

I remain rooted as a photographer to mainly representational photography. But I am not adverse to taking these shots in new directions.

 

 

Filters open alien worlds

•October 5, 2014 • Leave a Comment

W-of-Datil-071314-9327-07-crop-copy-exc-X1-sw-dba

CLICK TO ENLARGE

Running across an article by chance has set off a firestorm of creative experimentation in the processing of my photos.

 

“The Sabattier Effect” – an article from the Digital Photography School – gave the outlines of how one might use various filters in Photoshop to beautiful effect. But for me it was just the starting point for re-imagining a variety of photos already in the can.

 

Valles-Caldera-071214-8735-13a-crop-GS-X1a-sw-dbaRecently these techniques found their way into a series of portrait shots I did with roller derby player Rowena Davis at the wreckage of a line of train cars north of Picacho Pass.

 

Rowena-boxcar_DSC1401EXCrevexcREV-sw-dbaI was having a variety of troubles that day, ranging from a pair of guys in a jeep who were looking for cool scrap who kept getting either in the shot or where I wanted to shoot, and some technical difficulties to boot. But several times a train passed by, and we found all kinds of places to shoot among the torn steel and twisted wreckage of the empty cars, which got tossed off their tracks in a wind microburst event about a month back.

 

Still, most of the shoot was a bust.

 

Rowena-torn_DSC1400EXCvd1rev1exc1THS-sw-dbaBut with nothing to lose I started fiddling with multiple layers of filters and out popped a roller skating warrior princess on an alien planet.

 

Here’s just a few examples.

 

 

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Photography preliminary review findings

•September 11, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Click image to enlarge

West of Datil, NM, July 2014

West of Datil, NM, July 2014

While reviewing my panoramic photography work trends are emerging

..

 

Trends:

 

Pro:

 

  • Not unexpectedly the sheer number and quality of panoramas has increased steadily over time. Currently there are over 3000 high-resolution panoramic images in the collection.
  • In the past year a promising trend toward experimentation with light and time has begun.
  • More effective workflows are being integrated. There is a trend toward setting the light balance for the brightest frame in the panorama and leaving it the same for all other panels. This achieves a smother gradation of light and more natural tones.
  • The geographic breadth of the project is increasing.
  • There is also a sizeable body of work developing focused on recurring visits to close areas of interest. Doing so emphasizes changes in light, vegetation throughout the day and seasons.
  • Urban landscapes are joining the natural landscapes.
  • A variety of ecosystems is being sampled.
  • A greater range of mood is being achieved.
  • An effective nomenclature has evolved for labeling panoramas that identifies location, date, leftmost frame and number of frames included.
  • An effective system of backup and consolidation is being maintained.

 

Near Globe, Az

Near Globe, Az, 2014

Cons:

 

  • No night photography
  • Inconsistent setup still a factor
  • Limited grasp of deep Photoshop
  • Still tough to predictably envision at the site how composition will come together
  • Still in experimental stage on many fronts

 

 

Technical aspects

 

  • Effective workflows are developing, allowing more consistent results.
  • More time is being taken to select prime views at the site
  • More time is being spent in setup procedures
  • Increasing skill in Photoshop is creating more interesting results.
  • A realization has gelled that original component files must be preserved to take advantage of future software capabilities

 

Twin Arrows trading post

Twin Arrows trading post

Conclusions:

 

  • There is a great deal more work to do.
  • The geographic scale of the work must increase
  • GPS data must be consistently inserted into the workflow
  • Best habits need to be carefully honed, reviewed.
  • Increased experimentation with and study of Photoshop is key to reaching the next level
  • Greater study of all aspects of my camera needs to be made
  • Night photography should added.
  • Nude landscapes should be added

 

 

 

Reevaluating my photographic work

•September 5, 2014 • Leave a Comment
Gates Pass 08/06/14

Gates Pass 08/06/14

Click image to enlarge

How we work as artists involves periodically reviewing our work.

The end of summer often seems a good time to do so, at least in the case of my visual work.

Currently I am reevaluating my photographic work via a variety of means.

I have re-cataloged all of my still imagery using LightRoom. That puts it all together in one place with thumbnails of every image.

I am in the process of creating PDF digital proof sheets for all of the folders on my still imagery drives. That gives me a sense of each individual shoot.

Storms west of Datil, NM

Storms west of Datil, NM

And I am consolidating all of my panoramic photos onto a single drive so that I can look at them in fairly quick time. I began saving copies of each as jpegs to create a random slide show that would lend me a quick overview of that work.

I’ll likely create another drive for consolidating time lapse video.

The motivation for this reexamination is a desire to see where I’ve been and where I’m going. To gain a broader sense of the body of work I’m creating, and establish best examples for funding opportunities.

Also it’s a chance to see how my style is evolving over time, identify areas that need work and review older work for possible revision with greater knowledge.

What’s clear is that I am developing a body of work with a distinct style, and that I have a lot to expand upon and perfect before this body of work is printed and shown publically.

Salt River Canyon, Arizona, July 2014

Salt River Canyon, Arizona, July 2014

Also clear is the fact that there’s a lot of panoramas, and that they are very hefty files – some as big as nearly 6 gigabytes. I’m still most of a third still imagery hard drive away from being finished and am already past the 2 TB mark of storage needs for panoramas alone.

Once the original files have been transferred, the process of converting them into jpegs for quicker review will begin. And once that has finished I will resume my PDF work.

By the close of September I should have a pretty good consolidated record of my photographic work.

 

 

 

 

 

Panning for monsoon gold against all odds

•July 28, 2014 • Leave a Comment
Valencia and Mission area, Tucson, Arizona, at sunset.

Valencia and Mission area, Tucson, Arizona, at sunset.

Click image to enlarge

Though I have been deep into constructing panoramic images of the southwest for around five years now it remains a humbling experience.

Sometimes you pass a place for months and think, “This location would be perfect.”

Then you try it out and, not so much.

Today’s site, along Valencia west of Mission Road, was paradoxical. Not as immediately grabbing as I’d hoped, but I’m sure I’ll return.

Part of my reservation in declaring thumbs up or down relates to the peculiarity of today’s weather at this particular site. Not enough clouds to rain, but somehow keeping the landscape at least partially in shadow most of the day.

I was drawn to this locale by its proximity to the stubby, curiously-shaped mountain segments to the north of the road – the southernmost area of the Tucson Mountains.

They’re quite beautiful but they are neither numerous enough, nor do they reach high enough into the sky, to really demand attention the way some other features of late have.

One of the odd-shaped cluster of mountains nearby.

One of the odd-shaped cluster of mountains nearby.

But they are fascinating landmarks. I have the feeling I just need a different approach to cropping to play up their strengths, and a better lighting day to see how shadows would sculpt their rock faces.

As I am doing this project I am gaining a more intimate understanding of the mountains around the city that has been my home since 1971.

I mapped soils and geomorphology of the Tucson basin and Avra Valley back when I was a geology student, and surveyed A Mountain at that time as well, so I have some understanding of the forces involved in creating this place. But stopping and carefully photographing different features of the valley from various perspectives has given me a more comprehensive understanding of my city.

Today’s site is probably no more than a mile or two from San Xavier Mission, which I have photographed many times. But the mission is a very special place, adjacent to lush, green, well manicured farms that are a far cry from the desert norm.

Earlier in the day, during seconds of sunshine.

Earlier in the day, during seconds of sunshine.

I actually considered shooting at San Xavier, and had I done so I probably would have had less issues with sunlight and shadow. But all of this goes into the hopper of experience.

Relying on local weather forecasts has been less than fruitful. It is tough to predict. I think it’s time to seek the high ground, scan the horizons and determine where things are bubbling up. Then find a cool spot, set up and hope for the best.

Shooting monsoon time in Tucson

•July 7, 2014 • 1 Comment
Saguaro East 07/05/14 2:13 p.m.

Saguaro East 07/05/14 2:13 p.m.

Click photos to enlange  It’s hard for people outside of the desert southwest to understand why we get so excited when the summer rains come. For one, it’s often been months since we had any measurable rainfall. This year Tucson hasn’t had any rain to speak of since February. But for true desert dwellers, it’s a number of factors. First the sheer drama of monsoon storms. They build quickly and often discharge violently with torential rain and  multiple lightning strikes. The changes in the sky in the hour or so leading up to a monsoon storm are mercurial and intense. When the wind starts to abruptly pick up, it’s time to seek shelter ASAP.

Saguaro East 07/05/14 3:38 p.m.

Saguaro East 07/05/14 3:38 p.m.

The storm itself is a sight to experience.  The rain beats down thick and hard, flooding streets and turning dips in the road into lakes inside of just a few minutes. The boom and crackle of thunder punctuates the sound of driving rain. Eventually it calms down as the low rumble of thunder booms off in the distance. The air is suddenly cool after having been 100 degrees or more earlier in the day. In the next day or two, the desert grows flush with a sudden bloom of green. Every desert plant soaks up the moisture. It is a time of abundance.

For a photographer it is the dream time. I love shooting broad panoramas, and this time of year the sky is as majestic as the landscape, and far more volitile.

Saguaro East 07/05/14, 4:00 p.m.

Saguaro East 07/05/14, 4:00 p.m.

I typically set up two cameras a few hours before the storm is coming in. One is a video camera, anchored as tightly as possible and focused on an intereseting section of terrain with a strong possibility of weather. The larger mountains to the north and east in Tucson – the Catalinas and Rinsons, respectively – have both the geologic and geometric interest and the height to push clouds to the point pf condensation. They’re pretty dependable points to shoot.

The video camera shoots continuously for two to four hours, capturing the slow bubbling and buildup of the storm clouds. A second tripod holds the camera with which I construct my panoramas. During storm season I shoot vertical slices of the horizon, overlapping the previous shot by about 30 percent to give photoshop common landmarks when I stitch the individual shots into a broad composite. The camera shoots full frame, 36 MP photos. A third camera with a 30-200 mm zoom allows me to take detail shots.

Saguaro East 07/05/14, 4:19 p.m.

Saguaro East 07/05/14, 4:19 p.m.

When the storms are hours away I might rotate the panoramic camera 360 degrees every 15 minutes or so. During the last two hours that time gets down to roughly every five minutes, pausing to shoot a few details with the zoom camera in the meantime. In the final minutes I generally shoot panoramic slices continuously as the sky in changing literally second to second.

When I hear thunder I typically pack up the camera. I have know folks who have been hit by lightning and they seem less than enthusiastic about repeating the experience. If you can hear thunder, lightning is within range to hit you.

On July 5 we had a whopper of a storm in which two separate thunderheads suddenly converged over the Rincon Mountains and flooded out into the valley. I was shooting at an overloop at Saguaro National Park east. There was no thunder at first but I could see rain getting closer and closer, and suddenly the wind nearly carried off the two tripod-mounted cameras. I hit the quick release tripod heads and literally tossed the cameras into the front seat, then struggled to collapse the tripods as the first rounds of wind and hail hit me.

Saguaro East 07/05/14 4:25 p.m.

Saguaro East 07/05/14 4:25 p.m.

I drove the loop road as quickly as safety and speed limits would permit and headed out onto surface streets just about the time that the full brunt of the storm hit. The wiper blades couldn’t move fast enough to keep up with the pounding rain and I could barely seebeyond the hood of the car at times, but I was determined to get as far away as I could before the washes turned into rivers. The storm remained that intense for about 10 miles, then suddenly I hit a dry spot and was bathed in sunlight. It was dry by the time I reached my house, but no sooner had I put the cameras inside and parked the car than a soaking rain hit my home. Lots of lightning on my side of town so I waited a while until things let up to start the computer and input my footage and stills.

The storm begins

The storm begins

The shear size of the panoramic stills has made constructing composite images a slow process. But in doing so I am seeing quite clearly the speed and shape of the advancing storms. It’s worth noting that in all of the photos I kept the camera settings exactly the same to show the contrast from the bright sunlight at the start of the day to the epic darkness at the moment the storm struck.

The time lapse video, which focuses on the Catalina mountains, shows that this range was still in the building stage when I had to tear down and run. But just minutes after I sped off, it too was engulfed in black rain clouds.

Return to Meteor Crater – One small step for Dan

•May 30, 2014 • Leave a Comment
Meteor Crater 05/29/14 panorama by Daniel Buckley.

Meteor Crater 05/29/14 panorama by Daniel Buckley.

Click photos to enlarge

I found myself back at one of my sacred places yesterday morning – Meteor Crater, Arizona.

My whole childhood was about the dream of going to the moon. I was seven years old when Alan Shepard became America’s first astronaut, and nine when President John F. Kennedy set the goal of going to the moon by the close of the 1960s. My entire childhood was punctuated by the Mercury and Gemini programs which worked out the techniques the Apollo program would use to send astronauts to the moon. I knew I was too young to be part of the generation that left those first boot prints in the lunar dust, but hoped to be part of the next generation that would build telescopes and do geological work on our closest celestial neighbor.

Tour guide with iron meteor chunk

Tour guide with iron meteor chunk

Meteor Crater was a big part of my coming to Arizona in 1971, as was the University of Arizona’s Lunar and Planetary Laboratory. In the summer of 1972, as a young geology student, I traveled to Meteor Crater for the first time in search of shatter cones that were evidence of a meteor impact. By the end of that same year Apollo 17 astronauts Eugene Cernan and Jack Schmidtt (the first and only geologist astronaut) would be the last to walk the lunar surface to this day.

Now 42 years later I was back at Meteor Crater – a place that has changed little and greatly in the four decades since I first hobbled down the crater walls. Little change has occurred geologically speaking. It remains the best preserved evidence of a meteor impact on the planet.  But as a destination for broad educational possibilities, Meteor Crater is a whole different world altogether. Incredibly knowledgeable tour guides explain the history of the crater and the path of its scientific unraveling to nearly a quarter of a million visitors a year. Various observation platforms give visitors a perspective few ever got to see before. And the museum fills in the blanks.

Cattle graze along Meteor Crater Road

Cattle graze along Meteor Crater Road

This time I was back with a camera intent not on searching for evidence of the impact that created it, but evidence of the fantastic beauty of our world, the solar system and the universe we are part of. And I was also there to artistically reclaim my destiny in a new photographic series I am calling Apollo 18. The trip was just a quick look to get the lay of the land for the project, and the panoramic photos I took were more like the contingency sample of lunar soil Neil Armstrong scooped off within minutes of stepping off the landing pad onto the surface of the moon. His was a tiny sample in case they had to get back in the spacecraft and take off in an emergency. Mine was just something to grab quickly before the sky’s promise of rain became a reality.

The ruins of the Twin Arrows trading post

The ruins of the Twin Arrows trading post

Driving up the 6 miles of cattle country off Interstate 40 west of Winslow that lead to the crater brought back many memories, as did the drive from Flagstaff. Seeing the old Indian trading posts I visited long ago, now abandoned and covered in graffiti, was strange. Likewise passing the rubble of the “town” of Two Guns and the Mountain Lion tourist attraction at Canyon Diablo was surreal.

The low ominous clouds that dipped toward the landscape amplified the strange mood. But they also allowed me to photograph large panoramas in greater detail, unhampered by the sharp shadows the bright sun would normally have imposed. I’m hoping to get back up there this summer and start officially laying the groundwork for the project with the folks who manage the crater today. Hopeful as well to find funding for the project, which will also include a site around Sunset Crater, Arizona and one in New Mexico – all of them places where astronauts trained for moon landings in the ‘60s and early ‘70s.

Magnificent Desolation – the ruins do an old tourist attraction in Canyon Diablo

Magnificent Desolation – the ruins do an old tourist attraction in Canyon Diablo

But in the meantime, this was one small step.

Los Lobos invites Tucson mini-mariachis to share the stage

•May 16, 2014 • Leave a Comment
Los Lobos members Cesar Rosas and Conrad Lozano, back, perform with Bulldog Mariachi and Folklorico from Tucson's White Elementary School.

Los Lobos members Cesar Rosas and Conrad Lozano, back, perform with Bulldog Mariachi and Folklorico from Tucson’s White Elementary School.

As production progresses on the documentary The Mariachi Miracle, producer/director Daniel Buckley filmed a very special musical encounter.

While Los Lobos was playing at the Rialto Theatre, April 24, 2014 as part of its 40th anniversary tour, the group invited Tucson’s Bulldog Mariachi and Folklorico from White Elementary School to open for them, then played a number with the youngsters and invited them back to sing “Volver, Volver” song as part of its own set.

Backstage after the concert group members Louie Perez and David Hidalgo talked with Buckley about the collaboration, as well as the impact of youth mariachis across the United States.

For a taste of the action and more, go to: https://vimeo.com/95262489

Why I have come to love the mariachis

•May 10, 2014 • 2 Comments
Tucson International Mariachi Conference president Alfonso Dancil inducts Daniel Buckley into the Mariachi Hall of Fame at the 2013 Espectacular Concert.

Tucson International Mariachi Conference president Alfonso Dancil inducts Daniel Buckley into the Mariachi Hall of Fame at the 2013 Espectacular Concert.

I was recently asked by one of the members of Harvard’s Mariachi Véritas, Tony Liu, how mariachis had become such a passion in my life.

It is an odd thing, I suppose. I am an Irish Catholic boy from the Hudson Valley of New York State. But mariachis have kept coming up in my life since I arrived in Tucson in 1971 to study the geology of the moon at the University of Arizona. I saw my first mariachis during my freshman year of college and dug the sound straight off. Only later though would it become a powerful part of my life.

I’ll get back to that, but there are some pivotal points, and the path is convoluted. One was in the 1980s when I dated a woman who was doing her residency to become a medical doctor. Her dream was to go to Africa and help people there, and for me to be with her and collect field recordings of African music in remote locations. I liked the idea. African music had long been a point of high interest to me. It’s the root of so much that is truly American music, from jazz and blues to gospel, soul, spirituals, zydeco and so much more. There would be no rock and roll without it, and what makes American classical music what it is often references that African underpinning.

In fact classical music is what started my interest in global music to begin with. As I developed my ear, I could always hear something special about performances of symphonic music by conductors from the country of the composer. In a personal way they understood the folk roots and indigenous rhythms those composers called upon and infused their performances with the aural embodiment of that knowledge.

Daniel Buckley in the audience

Daniel Buckley in the audience

Over time, my thirst for the roots music of the globe became as deep as my curiosity about classical music from around the world and across time. The deeper I got into both, the more I came to understand the secrets locked in all regional music. The music of a given place, particularly its folk music, holds information about how isolated that area was over the long term, who it traded with, who it had wars with and what it held sacred. Years later I would get to meet Alan Lomax of the Library of Congress, who’s dad – John Lomax – had made the first recordings for the that institution. Lomax came up with a system of clues one could discern from vocal folk music that would tell you all kinds of things about that culture’s past. He called it Cantometrics, and I spent one summer studying his tapes to get a modest grasp of the technique.

But getting back to my doctor girlfriend in the early 1980s, the idea was growing in me to jump ship, move to Africa with or without her, buy a good field recorder and get busy recording things halfway around the world. And then one weekend something happened that spun me around. I can’t recall the circumstances but somehow in that three day weekend I was taken to see a waila band, a mariachi and a norteño band. Mariachi most people know. Norteño (aka conjunto) is the music of northern Mexico along the U.S. border that features accordions and bajo sextos and a nasal vocal style. The Tohono O’odham tribe of Arizona and northern Mexico then adapted norteño to their own tastes, turning it into a strictly instrumental form of social dance music called waila (from the Spanish baile – dance) for dances that went on from sundown to sunrise in the Sonoran desert.

After that weekend I realized the world was all around me right where I was. The mariachi clearly had roots in Mexico’s indigenous cultures, its Spanish history as well as music brought by African slaves. That was fascinating. Similarly norteño was a multi-cultural mix that borrowed accordions dance forms from Eastern Europeans (Czechs, Poles and Germans) who settled on both sides of the U.S./Mexico border. And Waila gave it that regional Native American flavor. I would later discover that Pascua Yaqui and other tribes along the border would add their own stamp to these regional musical forms as well. But the point is, I realized I didn’t have to travel anywhere to find something that was underexplored and fascinating as hell. It was right here in Tucson, Arizona. And as you may have figured, the girl and I broke up long before decisions about a trip to Africa needed to be made.

In 1987 I went to work for the Tucson Citizen – a daily newspaper that had been around since 1870 – as a music critic. And while my main beat was writing about the classical music institutions (the opera, symphony and chamber music groups), I couldn’t resist writing as well about mariachis, waila bands and norteño groups. Not long after I came to the paper the first Norteño Festival debuted, and soon after that the Waila Festival. Both are now gone but each lasted at least a decade and gave Tucson a real musical education about cultures right under our noses. The Tucson International Mariachi Conference had been going for a couple of years when I joined the Citizen staff, and I made a point of going to cover it my first year.

Shooting Mariachi Los Arrieros from El Paso, Texas.

Shooting Mariachi Los Arrieros from El Paso, Texas.

Mind you, I will be the first to admit that while I was highly interested in these art forms I was as clueless as I could be. There weren’t books on these subjects back in those days and you grabbed recordings wherever you could. But I was very lucky to make the acquaintance of four people who would patiently guide me in my early days of sheer ignorance and folly and try to help me come to a more complete understanding. That quartet includes Raul Aguirre, Julie Gallego, Angelo Joaquin, Jr. and Elva Flores. Aguirre was an up and coming Latino advertising genius who had been a former DJ on Spanish radio and knew just about everything there was to know about any type of Latino music. Julie Gallego was a Mexican folklórico choreographer and educator who would become one of the most original producers in that field. Elva Flores was one of the founders of the mariachi conference, the founder of El Centro Cultural de las Americas, and an expert on many aspects of Mexican culture. And Angelo Joaquin, Jr. was the son of one of the pioneers of modern waila music, and the creator of the Waila Festival. Later Richard Carranza, founder of Pueblo High School’s Mariachi Aztlán and now superintendent of schools in San Francisco, would become one of my mariachi mentors.

All of them had a stake in knowing someone at the newspaper who was interested in what they did, and all were incredibly resourceful at setting me up with other contacts who could help me fill in the gaps along the way. And they were kind enough to set me straight when I made mistakes.

As I mentioned, both the waila festival and the norteño festival died out after a period of time, and so I had less occasion to write about these genres. The mariachis, by contrast, came to thrive in my 22 years with the paper. Propelled by Linda Ronstadt’s “Canciones de Mi Padre” and “Mas Canciones” CDs of the late 1980s, and reinforced by a burgeoning mariachi and folklórico education movement in the schools, mariachis became a cultural force in the Tucson community. The Tucson International Mariachi Conference had to extend its Espectacular concerts to two nights during the heyday, and even then tickets sold out months in advance.

As someone from a classical background I was very comfortable with the mariachis. In essence the show groups were chamber opera companies, packed with instrumental virtuosos and vocalists of every color. But like norteño and waila, they also tread upon the popular music traditions. The music drew as much from popular Mexican cinema as it did from the regional “sones” – the roots music of the mariachi. Pre 20th century classical music was such a hodgepodge as well, incorporating regional roots music and popular music of the day. So the mariachis resonated with me on many levels.

Year after year I covered the mariachi world more and more, first as a writer and later filming it during my days as the multimedia manager for the Citizen. I reviewed the Espectacular concerts each year and wrote in depth about the conference workshops, participant showcases and Garibaldi showcases. I had to write about the various intrigues as well over the years.

But as the decades progressed and my knowledge increased, I began to see the important larger trends that were going on. I started to recognize individual kids and see them evolve into budding mariachis, and so much more. Because I live just a few blocks from the University of Arizona, and have taken classes at Pima College, I began seeing young mariachi and folklorico students in college in larger numbers. This was a significant change from when I was in college in the early 1970s when much fewer Mexican Americans were in classrooms with me than the population would have suggested. Mariachi scholarships and the need to keep grades high to stay in mariachi and folklorico programs was visibly making a difference. I started writing about this for the Citizen in the years just before Gannett Newspapers closed it down for good.

Shooting youth mariachis is 2012

Shooting youth mariachis is 2012

When the paper closed I started doing documentary films about Hispanic culture and history in Tucson. My five year plan was to have the skills and knowhow in place by 2014 to be ready to tackle the story of how these youth programs were making a difference in time to document the 50th anniversary of the youth group that started it all – Tucson’s Mariachi Los Changuitos Feos (the ugly little monkeys). As I work on this film, titled “The Mariachi Miracle,” I am discovering that the topic is so large it will still take me into early 2016 to get the story wrapped.

I’ll be the first to admit that I love doing this – not just telling the story but seeing the music progress in my community as well. Year after year I am blown away at student performances at the high degree of musicality being achieved at younger and younger ages. I love seeing individual kids progress year after year, watching them go on to become professionals in the community, teachers and even mariachi instructors. It’s a joy to watch young musicians who will likely become the next Mariachi Cobre or Linda Ronstadt, taking Tucson’s name to the rest of the country and the world. More than that I see what it has done in making our city a better place to live for everyone.

In the 50 years since the Changuitos started, Mexican Americans have gone from being treated as a source of community embarrassment in the era of urban renewal to being a source of civic pride in our historic place. The mariachi and folklorico dancer have become as much symbols of the city as the iconic saguaro cactus. Moreover, graduates of mariachi and folklorico programs have learned key skills – teamwork, discipline, self confidence, pride and the ability to speak in front of any group of people – that are giving them an edge in the competitive job marketplace. They are socially dressed for success, and are taking their place among the leaders of our city and state as politicians, doctors, lawyers, engineers, teachers and, well, mariachis too. They are sought out for their musicianship, not just in the mariachi world but in opera and classical music, as well as many other genres. So why did I become such a fanatic about mariachi music? Part of it is the intoxicating power of the music itself – so expressive, so powerful, so dreamy. And part of it is seeing what this music is doing, not just in my city but around the United States and the world. It is more than just music now. It is a force of change.

Documentary filmmaker Daniel Buckley.

Documentary filmmaker Daniel Buckley.

I still love all the other things I loved before. All the tangled musical roots that keep Tucson so vibrant. But the music and dance of mariachi culture holds a special place in my heart. It has changed me as surely as it has changed my city. And I like what it has made me.

Having a chance to collaborate with your daughter – priceless

•May 8, 2014 • Leave a Comment
Cara Clay, right, with classmate in Spain.

Cara Clay, right, with classmate in Spain.

On rare occasions the things you’ve loved most in life just come together in unexpected ways. Back in the 1980s I dated a woman who was one of the most special people I’ve known – Marla Sommerville. We only dated a couple of years but have remained good friends ever since. We’re both workaholics and rarely get to see each other anymore. But Marla gave me two great gifts – her daughters, Marisa Sommerville and Cara Clay. They were 8 and 2 respectively when Marla and I started dating. They became my kids and have remained so ever since. They grew to be exceptional women. Marisa is now an entertainment lawyer in television and film, and Cara is a composer, currently in Spain studying film scoring.

Cara contacted me a few days ago to see if I wanted to do a collaboration with her. She has the opportunity to work with an orchestra in London later this month, and wondered if I might put together a three-minute film for her to compose a score to. We’ve done a couple of small collaborations in the past but this sounded like great fun. So I decided to see what I might put together.

At first I thought about doing something with the windup toys I used to work with when she was very small. At some point I may do that again, but with work heaped up and time short I opted to do something else. Every time I stepped out of my house over the past few days the clouds have been rolling by, reminding me of all of the wonderful time lapse footage I have from monsoons past and assorted rare Tucson weather days. Eventually it sunk in that maybe I should sequence something out of that for her.

And so I started piecing together a quasi narrative out of snippets of mostly time lapse stuff shot in the desert. There are a few real time segments, including a dust storm blowing in Avra Valley before a monsoon, and a flock of pigeons circling and descending upon the collapses remains of an adobe house on the Tohono O’odham reservation. But mostly its clouds, sky and desert landscape at play in compressed time.

Even with the segments already shot it was tough to decide what order and form they should take, so a bit of shuffling went on. I’d step away and work on something else for a few hours, then come back, watch and fiddle some more. Individual clips got dropped and added, clip durations shortened and lengthened, and eventually I sculpted something that seemed at least modestly coherent. I called it, “En El Desierto.”

I sent it off last night, knowing that it would be a while before Cara would wake up in Spain and see it. But about 3 a.m. our time she sent me a note. To my relief, she likes it, and said it made her homesick. That made me smile.

Now it’s her turn. I can’t wait to see how she imagines it in sound. I know it will be a great experience for her to work with the orchestra, and feel so lucky that she thought of me to work with. And I know she’ll make that footage even more incredible with her music.