I have been to Zozobra many times in my life, but never as early as 3 pm when, it turns out, the gates officially open. The first most apparent aspect of the field—as people refer to the baseball field in Fort Marcy Park, which hosts the burning of the great big white puppet of gloom—is the abundance of security moving about the place. Already the parking lots around the field are closed off, and men in neon yellow vests that read ‘SECURITY’ across their backs are monitoring the pedestrian entrance between temporary metal barricades blocking vehicles from entering. This entrance is followed by a security corridor between tables, where I am patted down (or prodded with a magic metal detector wand, depending if I end up with the woman on the right or the woman on the left who is checking my bag and my person), which spits me out at another metal fence with a narrow entrance managed by more yellow-vested people scanning tickets electronically. Finally I reach the bridge across an arroyo—another corridor—that will spit me out at… the field. But first I must stop at the bridge’s entrance where yellow-vests will cuff one of my wrists with a lime-green band which will prevent me from being accosted by more security on the inside—this is their signifier that I have entered the event by the correct process of checking and being herded along by yellow-vested security, or, more simply, that I have paid the entry fee. Once I am finally through this series of corridors being overseen by yellow-vests, I expect to be home free—I have arrived at my destination and can relax—but the field, only spotted at this early hour with picnickers and die-hards who will be here from 3pm, when a...

Writers and photographers from Jackalope joined 25,000 other Santa Feans at the Sept. 5 Zozobra celebration at Fort Marcy park to check out the annual ritual burning of Old Man Gloom, and talk to officials and attendees about the ritual. Check out their stories: Arianna Sullivan investigates the security at the event. Brandon Ghigliotty considers the meaning of gloom. Maria Costasnovo and Sandra Schonenstein talk to attendees about Zozobra’s meaning. Charlotte Martinez looks at the way the event has changed. Nick Martinez and Christopher Stahelin delve into Fiesta food. Amanda Tyler documents the Historical/Hysterical Parade. Shayla Blatchford captures the spirit of Fiesta in words and...

By Christopher Stahelin A profile of one of Santa Fe’s street...

Nicholas Chiarella, a Santa Fe based artist and contributing faculty member at the Santa Fe University of Art and Design, moved into his loft apartment on Santa Fe’s west side in November of last year. Within five weeks, Chiarella was hosting “Sit Wherever You’d Like,” a house-show of the sort that seems to be at the heart of Santa Fe’s community of young and emerging artists.

By Shayla Blatchford Last weekend, High Mayhem Emerging Arts hosted duo CD releases with local artists iNK oN pAPER and soloist Luke Carr. Located just south of Santa Fe’s downtown area, High Mayhem is an arts studio tucked away in an industrial dead end off of Siler Road. The volunteer staff accepted a suggested donation of $10 at the door, which included a digital download of each band’s newly released album. Luke Carr opened the show with his battery charged guitar, which became the first of many instruments to be looped as part of his full band. In between sets, the audience drifted out of the venue and into the fenced-in “front yard” with a bonfire as its centerpiece. As iNK oN pAPER closed the evening, the looping continued with Carlos Santistevan on bass and manipulated drum beats by Milton Villarrubia III. In comparison to Carr’s building layers of looped instruments, which become the foundation of his track to top with vocals, iNK oN pAPER created a technical depth to their process of loops and samples that are only intended to be ripped to shreds in their experimental electronic battle of drum and...