On Feb. 14, students and faculty took part in the  One Billion Rising demonstration in the capital, as part of the V-Day activist movement that seeks to raise the public conscience to ending violence against women and girls. Corine Frankland has taught multiple classes at SFUAD leading up to One Billion Rising. This past November, it was decided how the school would support the initiative and what that might look like for SFUAD. For V-Day, students designed t-shirts and pins for the event at the roundhouse, arriving hours ahead of time for set up. “SFUAD students really took the initiative in terms of being the volunteers,” Frankland says. With a group of about 22 students helping with everything from tying arm bands to setting up the stage, everyone in attendance was ready for the public testimonials that began at 10:30 a.m. inside the rotunda. Student Sherylyn Jeffries was the first to speak. “I was surprised by that standing ovation… I wound up looking at all of these women who were total strangers. And they got it. And then when I got through, the whole rotunda stood up,” Jeffries recalls. Jeffries gives credit to both Frankland’s class and Dana Levin’s poetry class for the creation of what she shared. With both teacher’s support and guidance, and Jeffries’ bravery, the opening of the testimonials was a powerful moment, with everyone from fellow students to the police officers present left crying and touched. “That’s what V Day is about, is making sure that these stories are heard,” student Amy West says of her favorite portion of the day. As the morning went on, women and men continued to tell their stories to the audience that had gathered. The rest of the day consisted of a rally outside...

This semester at SFUAD, the dance majors will be given not only numerous performance opportunities, but also the chance to learn from guest choreographers. In the first month of school alone, both Miguel Perez and Gail Gilbert have set foot in the dance studio to create new works for the dancers.

On  Jan. 30, Fogelson Library unveiled its new gallery space to the public. Previously, the area had been used for seating, to house magazines and newspapers, and as exhibition space for Marko Lukini’s senior thesis show near the end of last semester. The work of three photography alumni is on display as the premier show. The library is currently holding a contest for the name of the gallery space, ideas for which can be entered into a box at Fogelson until the end of February. In order to enter work or curate a show, students must have a faculty sponsor, fill out a proposal and have a clear idea of how their exhibitions will be presented. The new use of this space will give students an on-campus resource in which they can see their work displayed. Fogelson Library is open 1 pm-9 pm Sunday, 8 am-9 pm Monday – Thursday, 8 am-5 pm Friday Or call (505)...

Shannon Elliott, head of SFUAD’s dance department, takes a deep breath, double checks her computer screen for details and lists off yet another event that the dance majors will be participating in this semester. Her plans to keep the dancers busy and give them performance opportunities has already taken off.

A look at the student graphic design work curated in Ephemera II.

The Gift Music and Art Festival takes place this weekend, on the nights of both Nov. 8-9. For free admission, students can create a gift of artwork to be given up for auction at a later date. So what exactly should this gift consist of? The crew behind the festival is accepting any medium of work, of any size or subject matter. So far, gifts have ranged from alternative process photographic prints to origami birds and intricately painted portraits. Music and film majors are welcomed to submit a gift in their genre also, provided that a CD or DVD of the work can be presented. All art will be accepted for admission, as long as it is evident that time, energy and thought has been put into the piece. When your work is complete, the gift can be be brought to the festival, where a crew member will exchange it for your entrance. Still stuck? Pictures below demonstrate a few examples of work made and materials used for a variety of gifts. For more information on the festival, check out this Jackalope article and the event Facebook...

SFUAD students answer the common icebreaker: “If you could have dinner with any person, who would it be?” and reveal what they would like to discuss with their picks. Answers range in variety from the predictable celebrity to an elusive family...

In this audio-visual piece, SFUAD students discuss their sources of inspiration....

Early on a Sunday afternoon, people of all ages gather around the streets of the Santa Fe plaza. Near 1 pm, floats representing local football teams, marching bands and even credit unions go past the crowds of umbrellas and lawn chairs that line the sidewalks. This parade, lovingly nicknamed the Historical/Hysterical parade, welcomes any and all floats or groups that wish to participate, and is a staple experience in the events surrounding...

By Amanda Tyler Kyleigh Carter sits in the morning sun, contemplating the blank sheet of paper before her as she draws inspiration for her current piece of artwork. “The scene where Elizabeth almost jumps overboard to save her father,” she thinks aloud, referring to a scene from Pirates of the Caribbean in which a full moon glows somberly in the night...

John Willis does not consider himself a photojournalist, or even strictly a documentary photographer. Willis, who teaches photography at Marlboro College in Vermont, has collections of work that would be hard not to coin as documentarian, but he sees a distinct differences between the types of storytelling that photographers can do. “There are a lot of ways to experience and to explore storytelling,” he explains, “and for me, it is always connected to something I’m experiencing—I choose my topics out of a need to work through my own stuff emotionally.” At the same time, Willis is acutely aware of the responsibility that comes with storytelling—perhaps even more so than many journalists. While he takes his pictures “to understand how I feel about things in my life,” Willis believes that, “if you are taking pictures of somebody, telling stories about somebody, you are an outsider, because it is not you that the story is about.” As an outsider telling somebody else’s story—or taking a photograph of somebody else—you have a responsibility, Willis believes, to that subject. You are responsible for telling their story to the best of your ability, honestly and respectfully, so that ultimately you will help others develop an empathic understanding of that subject. For Willis, this extends even further than just sharing his own photographs. For Willis, the difference between a journalist and a documentarian boils down to time. A documentarian affords themselves more time with their subject, something a journalist being paid by the story may not be able to do. “I have the luxury of making my images because they’re what I’m drawn to,” Willis explains, “because I make my living as a teacher.” When Willis sells an image, he thinks of it more as “extra-credit” than another step along...

By Amanda...

It is opening night, the house is open, and the set is not even finished. The director is exasperated. His stage manager informs him that the set was not finished because they “ran out of money.” “You finally get used to one way of doing things and they up and change all of the rules on you,” he exclaims. His writer, who is pacing the stage with loud nervous high-heeled clicks, turns on him. “There are no rules in art!” she shrieks, sounding half-insulted and half-horrified. The two are interrupted by their stage manager, who is trying to delicately remove them from the stage so that their play can commence. “There shouldn’t be,” she says, “but those days are past.” She shoos them off stage, the house lights dim, and the play within the play Gun Shy is finally allowed to begin. Gun Shy is a comedy written and directed by Joey Chavez, and performed by high school theater students at the Santa Fe charter school New Mexico School for the Arts. The play breaks the third wall and brings up questions about what constitutes art, and what is or isn’t allowable in art, over and over again. The answers to these questions, however, are perhaps more apparent in the people behind the play than the script itself. Before their performance, the cast paced, stretched, and applied last minute make-up or costume touch-ups while practicing a few last line-throughs—reciting their lines in order without blocking or acting through the entire play. Their director and teacher Joey Chavez entered the room intermittently and watched them intently, without interrupting the focus coursing through his students. Cris Lannucci, an NMSA senior who plays the author of the play within the play, is eager to sit for an interview,...

By Arianna Sullivan/Photos by Amanda Tyler   “This,” says Marquita Sena, “is my favorite seal of the whole building.” We are standing at the edge of the balcony that stretches all around the circumference of the inside of Santa Fe’s Capitol building, The Roundhouse. The seal that Marquita refers to sits all the way down on the first floor, centered by the circular building “In the center we have both the American Bald Eagle and the Mexican Harpie,” begins Marquita, explaining her fondness for this particular seal, “and they are encircled by the Zia symbol—which represents the four points of a compass, the four periods of the day, the seasons of the year, the four stages of life.”  She tells us, with the same pride in her voice as when she had explained that all of the marble in the building is from New Mexico, that the seal is set in the floor with Turquoise—New Mexico’s state stone. “It is this representation of both the Native American and the American that the building does so well,” explains Marquita. Marquita’s eyes light up as she tells us how her husband used to take her flying over the roundhouse before she ever worked there. “From above we could see the shape that the building was designed to make—the shape of the Zia.” Marquita is not the only tour-guide for the Roundhouse who has a sense of personal pride for the building. The tour guides, who are seated around a long rectangular table chatting and enjoying each other’s company when we first approach them, become serious and full of praise when we ask them about their jobs. All around the table the women echo each other with variations of, “we love this building.” Several of the women are...

 By Charlotte Martinez/ Photos by Amanda Tyler Legislating at the Santa Fe Capitol (aka the Roundhouse) runs like an ant hill. Workers zig zag across halls, hierarchy command from their post, and staircases hustle with feet. The higher you go, the more prestigious it gets. It’s quiet on the top floor—perhaps the lush carpet hordes chatter and phones send coded rings directly to their receivers. The few who linger here have stoic or concerned expressions. They move as if they want to leave. The bottom floor, on the other hand, brings life back to the Capitol. Here, on the bottom floor, nestled first doorway to the left, is the Capitol Café, where conversing is informal and food is comforting. It’s not so much a café as it is a walk-in nook. Perhaps 12-by-6 feet of customer space and 15-by-10 feet of kitchen space. The area booms with laughter, clings with pans and sounds with friendly “hellos.” Two woman stand behind a counter, chatting. Chefs in the back spring from side to side, preparing orders. A young man in a suite strides in. He asks for a juice and brings out his wallet. “Can I write a check?” he asks. Behind the counter Debra Zamora, a lively middle-aged food server from Roe New Mexico, laughs. “Sure, I’ll just take interest on it, that’s all.” The man stops and smiles at her. He orders something else. “This kind of treatment doesn’t happen upstairs,” he jokes. Zamora nods. “This is the kind of service we offer.” “That’s why I come downstairs,” the man says, writing his check. “I even come order my lunch downstairs and take it upstairs.” He turns to leave. “Thank you very much.” Next, a woman comes up to the counter and orders a...

By Mark Feigenbutz/Photos by Amanda Tyler      To My Dedicated Readers, * I interviewed this guy named Chace. So, I’ve finally decided to get in shape. I’m doing this thing called the Slow-Carb Diet. As cheesy as it sounds, it’s not – because you can’t eat cheese! The gist of it is that you limit your caloric intake exclusively to foods with a low glycemic index, or GI, so as not to trigger an insulin spike and the resulting blood sugar drop. Apparently, by keeping your blood levels at an equilibrium, you’re in a prime zone conducive to losing fat. The best part is (and I assure you that I would not be able to even attempt this diet otherwise) that every seventh day, you get to cheat. I’ve only been on the diet for about 8 hours so far, but the prospect of a cheat day is already proving itself to be an incredibly psychologically powerful tool. This is somewhat similar to how I quit smoking. After almost ten years of smoking (and a few years of chewing tobacco, I’m not too proud to admit), nicotine was really getting the best of me. Like every other addict, I’d tried to quit “for real” about a zillion times. (I know a “zillion” isn’t a real number, but try to stay with me here.) Whenever I’d decide to quit, yet another “for real” time, I would crush all my remaining cigarettes and flush my chewing tobacco down the toilet. It was a great strategy until I’d desperately need nicotine the following day and waste the little money I had replacing the cigarettes and chewing tobacco I’d thrown out the night before. I had the idea to not destroy my nicotine, but keep the products at...