In January 2020, the Vegas arts scene was struck with an early tragedy when Alexander Huerta suddenly passed away.
Given our fears of the incoming pandemic, I skipped his wake, though I left some offerings outside his studio before the world shut down.
I met Alex in his studio during a First Friday art walk soon after moving to Vegas ten years ago. He was working on a series of collages with old black and white magazine images on a black scratchboard background.
As an architect, I was struck with the sparseness of the series with its urban perspectives. I lent him an exhibition monograph of black and white collages by Romare Bearden.
Over the years, I’d drop of old architectural sets at his studio. I was excited to see his work exhibited at the library — some of my drawings had been incorporated into his collages! We enjoyed the occasional chat, though given the arrivals of a baby and her brother, it was not nearly as regular as it should have been.
He used to valet cars at a casino, but taught himself painting, rescuing himself from alcoholism with the brush.
I had hoped to introduce him to my kids when they were old enough to understand what it meant to say, “Here’s a real artist!”
February 2020 was a long month, processing the loss and watching the pandemic inexorably work its way towards our shores.
During that time, I listened to this song on repeat. I was lucky to find something that meshed perfectly with my emotional turmoil.
In America, Joe Hisaishi is known for his collaborations with Studio Ghibli, but this song isn’t from one of those films. Maybe that’s why it touched my soul. I could imprint this music with my own memories.
Even though those personal and global tragedies came in winter, I always think of this song when it gets hot. The air conditioning kicked on for the first time yesterday.
Welcome to “Summer”.
I never reclaimed that book, I should buy a replacement.
01 May 2023