Sharing a sense of place.

Aside from business seminars, it's been ever so long that I've sat in a classroom with real students. Until the other day. My neighbor, a professor of anthropology at Prescott College, invited me for an informal, end of quarter class session dedicated to a sense of place, that place being central Arizona.

The students, most of whom had been in Prescott all of four months, were to select a favorite or interesting aspect of the local scene and share their sense of it by whatever means or media seemed most appropriate. The idea was to step back from the academic and change to a more direct, gut experience.

Here, Rhuta, the one native-born-and-raised Arizonan, confers with the professor...

...then, once her computer was synced with the house system, proceeded with a slide show of doors from all over town, doors representing entrances to new experiences and people. Interesting: I had also photographed some of the doors she collected, including the Cortez street entrance above. However, her deepest connection with place was Buckskin Canyon, a slot canyon off the Paria River (below) where she returns time and again to hike, camp and commune.

Brie, a newcomer from Maine, created collages to catch the feel of our boom town (above) and her joy in African dance participation (below).

Christine (at right, playing the guitar) performs what I call her Talkin' Granite Basin Lake Blues, all about how she often slipped into the basin at night, long after closing hours, enjoying the solitude -- and the uncountable shooting stars visible away from the city.

The paintings and breakfast remains belong to Sarah, a Philadelphian who had never seen real mountains until she flew out to Arizona to meet Prescott College. She too had slides -- a kaleidoscope of her many new experiences of Prescott (and those mountains, as seen from the window of a plane.) Oh, yes, the hat. It's a real beauty. She bought it from the shop on Whiskey Row and, like me, she also took pictures in the shop despite the "no photographs" sign.

Fox is a poet and a passionate one. His prime presentation wrapped around Thumb Butte and its sunsets.

For the record, the course is titled Contemporary Issues in Anthropology; the text (shown in the top picture) is History Is In The Land, which explores the oral traditions that link four contemporary tribes -- Tohono O’odham, Hopi, Zuni, and San Carlos Apache -- to Arizona's San Pedro Valley. My neighbor and I both share a fascination with a sense of place -- as I'm sure my readers are well aware.

More Academics: well, sorta. The dotter has just written a wonderful, very funny post on what it takes to get homework done.

Business Decor: Banks

Do you recall the Wells Fargo adverts back a few years ago when bank mergers were all the rage? Big headline: Do You Know the Name of Your Bank This Week? I was reminded of the high cost of bank mergers in Arizona when I reviewed today's pictures. Once upon a time -- for as many years as I could remember, the Valley National Bank was Arizona. I'm sure that officers of the Valley could have cared less about goings on in NYC or LA; their business was Arizona, pure and simple, and they would go to bat for Arizona vs. anywhere else. We don't have that kind of financial clout in these new, improved megabank days, which is too damn bad.

Of course, that lesson for the day doesn't have much bearing on today's post, except to give me a chance for a small vent on the unfairness of the universe. What I had in mind originally was to contrast the decorative style of Bank of America vs. the Chase, at least on Gurley Street. The Navajo rug above sets the scene. It greets customers as they enter the Bank of America.

Other Arizona Indian art work on another wall -- paintings and a katchina.

Still more katchinas look down from above the wainscoting...

... and more. Some quite ferocious.

Curious -- I didn't see a single clown figure. Perhaps clowns are too frivolous for a respectable bank.

The lobby also features a handful of paintings.

And the corner fireplace completes this warm interior with a strong sense of place. You know you're in Arizona.

The contrast across the street is stark! My bank, which was the Valley when I arrived in Prescott, has totally erased any identification with the locale. It is angles, panels and all business. Nary a single piece of art work, although that display of old photos of the bank at the rear entrance hasn't disappeared.

Admittedly, you don't do business with decor -- but with people and I've had nothing but the best of treatment at both banks. On the other hand, it's special to have katchinas and beautiful weaving to look at when you're stuck in a long line.

Then there is the troubadour who sometimes shows up at the Chase of a Saturday...

Later Note: I was reminded that those handsome Indian arts and artifacts were most likely acquired long before the BofA itself acquired the Bank of Arizona. However, a pat on the back for keeping the artwork on display for customers to admire and enjoy.