TLAQUEPAQUE, SEDONA, U.S.A.

Something wonderful is happening in Sedona, U.S.A. It is called Tlaquepaque, pronounced T-lock-ay-pock-ay, named after Tlaquepaque, an old city of some 110,000, really a suburb of Guadalajara, queen city of Mexico. The heart of old Tlaquepaque is a large square known as the parían, which means “public market of diverse things.” Most public squares in Mexico are known as zocalos. In Tlaquepaque parían is used because the park section is surrounded by a rectangular complex of cantinas, restaurants and shops. Architecturally Tlaquepaque, Sedona, U.S.A. is a composite reproduction inspired mainly by the parían plan of old Tlaquepaque and incorporating examples of the picturesque architectural forms of old Mexico.The material quality of Tlaquepaque is evident in the beauty of form and ornament expressed in masonry, wood and metal. The conceptual history of Tlaquepaque is the true story of a man's love for beauty and perfection. The man, Abe Miller, a Nevada based southwesterner, started collecting memories of the old-new land of Mexico more than a quarter century ago. He travelled slowly so he could remember each fresh scene, old cathedrals and palacios, the little adobe chapels and shrines, the shady plazas, haciendas. He loved and dwelt with his Heart's Desire to build, someday, somewhere, a beautiful place reflecting the charm and mood of old Mexico. Abe Miller travelled the southwest before he found the perfect site for his plan, a four and one-half acre piece of heaven on earth complete with full grown pines and sycamores, on the banks of Oak Creek, in Sedona.Here he met architect Robert McIntyre and Bill Herrick, general contractor. The trio began a long series of trips to Mexico photographing, sketching and documenting the look and feel of the material and spiritual conditions to be interpreted as authentically as possible into the composite reality of Tlaquepaque. They travelled from village to city in search of tiles, bells, wrought iron balcony railings and other building accessories.Ground was broken on the site in 1971. Today Tlaquepaque's bell tower is a landmark rising above Sedona's tallest trees. From the highway the visitor enters through one of two brass studded wood gates. Once inside, the The mood is of another world. The venerable timeless beauty of Tlaquepaque reflects a quality of evolvement that cannot be hurried. And so one does not object to the construction sheds in the background, which somehow seem to blend with the ambience of the place. As one meanders through the complex he is aware of the wholesome and dedicated attitude of the people involved in producing Tlaquepaque, most of whom are residents of the area and they share a deep pride in being part of this beautiful expression of their civilization. None of the magnificent trees have been cut or trimmed to the architecture. At great cost in labor and materials all plans were modified to incorporate the trees' natural form.

In a setting of superlative natural qualities man has created something of beauty, quaintness and picturesque design that make it almost impossible to close the eyes and contain the soul.

The Indianesque Art of Dee Morris...

One member of the growing colony of artists and artisans in Sedona is Dee Morris, silversmith extraordinaire. To visit his shop in Tlaquepaque is to see some of the finest examples of custom jewelry the Southwestern Indian tribes ever inspired in the way of heavily wrought silver with perfectly matched turquoise stones executed with flawless craftsmanship and design.

But each piece, whether a "sidewinder" watchband or a tortoise shell concho belt, has a heavy overlay, so to speak, of Anglo ingenuity. And why not? Dee Morris is known through the New Mexican pueblos and across the vastness of the Hopi and Navajo reservations of Arizona as "the white man who grew up Indian."

Now 32, Morris was adopted during his formative years by three different Indian families - Navajo, Santo Domingo and Zia. What each adoption has lacked in official legal papers, has been compensated for in familial bonds of obligation and affection that have stretched across three decades.

Says the matriarch of his Navajo family, Mrs. Karl Dalton of Ganado: "We simply chose each other as family because we mutually understood that we belonged together. No piece of legal paper could make him any more a part of this family than he already is.

"When we first met him at craft and jewelry shows around the reservation, we were thrilled to find a young man who knew so much, cared so much, and did so well the classic traditional style of Navajo silversmithing. The craft was not being pursued by the young men of the tribe. Ultimately, Dee was given the stamps and other tools used by his Navajo grandfather and his Navajo uncle.

"It's been a great joy and satisfaction to us," Mrs. Dalton said, "to have a son who respects his talents and the culture that inspired them."

Almost the same sentiments are echoed by the Ray Salases of Zia and the Joe Tortalitas of Santo Domingo. All three families tell of snowbound winters when food and fuel were depleted until "Dee managed to get here with everything from coal to cough syrup."

For his own part, Morris says he was the black sheep of the white family he was born into. "I was a misfit, a goof-up, a fouled-up loner of a kid who never did anything right. When we moved to Zia, Ray Salas' late father took me in hand. His house was my house, his food was my food, his love was mine. He never said, 'Hey, kid, you are lousing up.' He said, 'Hey, you're a pretty good little kid.' "I thought that old man would run me to death when he initiated me into some of the Zia ways, but he did it to teach me respect for all of nature and all life. That included respect for myself and my life, and that was no small lesson.

Even as a young child, Morris wanted to be a silversmith - the best silversmith extant. He wasn't a drop-out, he was a kicked-out from New Mexico State University at Las Cruces because "the school didn't dig cutting all those classes just to sit around hammering out silver buttons and bolas.

After that came a long, grueling apprenticeship making Indian jewelry for a jobber (wholesaler). "I was paid 35 cents for each ring I produced from scratch. That meant forming shank, plate, bezel and cutting and setting the stone. You have to make a lot of rings to keep eating at that pay. I didn't even take coffee or lunch breaks. I picked up molten metal so often, I've lost all feeling in my fingers. But I got fast enough and efficient enough that I was making $35 per day."

Nowadays, he says, it's a pleasure to let a design idea simmer on the back burner of the mind until it's ready to boil over, instead of churning out ring after ring, concho after concho or squash blossom after squash blossom.

"You know, it's not original, but I like the idea expressed in these lines: The man who works with his hands is a laborer; the one who works with his hands and head is a craftsman; the one who works with hands, head and heart is an artist.

"My hands, head and heart work together better when I'm out yonder than they do in town," the silversmith said as he stamped his hallmark in yet another Navajoinspired necklace.

BY MAGGIE WILSON

TLAQUEPAQUE . . . from page 3

And so Tlaquepaque is something more than substance. It is a happy and encouraging assurance to know that man has the ability and the resources to preserve the natural beauty of a development as he creates new forms of beauty to satisfy his functional and spiritual needs. Tlaquepaque is a shining example of how a commercial development can delight the eye of the beholder, serve a useful function, elevate the business standards of the community and glorify the character of the land.

The works of people who think beauty have a tendency to evolve slowly. Abe Miller will not be hurried into a "quick-buck" sub-standard measure of quality. Daughter Carolyn Miller is general manager in charge of leasing and overall management of the complex. They have been so discerning of their tenant shopkeepers that only eight of the fourteen available spaces have been leased. The central plaza or patio, shown on our front cover, invites the visitor into an atmosphere of peaceful and sunny serenity. Off the tiled walkways are the first of Tlaquepaque's shops. Ninibah's specializes in fine leather accessories and the Indianesque silver artistry of Dee Morris (story on page 7). At the Kuivato Stained Glass Studio artisans work on custom designed stained glass and metal orders for architects, decorators and a clientele who demands the special quality reminiscent of the "Tiffany" glass era.

Barter and trade are a preferred medium of exchange at the Environmental Realists Trading Company shop. Rob Wagner, spokesman for the six member guild who operate the establishment, explains that the trading company is set up as a craft guild executing art works in wood, metal and other mediums. On the west side of the plaza "Sculptured Arts" is the beautiful showcase for sculptured art works by established artists of the southwest headlined by the enamel-on-copper work of Pauli Lame, world renowned Arizonan. Owner Beth Landis, formerly a Californian, is known as an arts educator who has taught in universities. She is also author of twenty-one text books on music in general use in the public schools of the United States and Canada. Weekend summer visitors to Tlaquepaque will enjoy the special exhibition of the brilliant art of Alice Asmar, internationally honored expressionist of Indian ceremonies and life, featured in Arizona Highways, June 1973. The Tlaquepaque Cantina is scheduled to open early in August. Construction is progressing on schedule for a winter of 1973 opening of a prestigious restaurant and lounge.

Much of the present construction involves a group of artisans' studios and shops away from the main plaza. On the drawing board are plans for a chapel inspired by one of Mexico's picturesque missions. The Tlaquepaque garden nursery adjoins the 41½ acre main complex, being a recent acquisition of the Millers. The gardens are a work of horticultural genius Harry Girard, founder of the original nursery.

The final chapter in the story of Tlaquepaque's multimillion dollar development cannot be written into the manuscript at this time. The setting will be under the pines and sycamores along Oak Creek, the area reserved for Tlaquepaque's tour-de-force.

Abe Miller has no reason for haste. He is living his Heart's Desire during waking hours instead of only in his dreams in a world of mission bells and bird song . . . bougainvillaea and magnolias . . . and the gay happy rhythm of young Oak Creek dancing downstream under the shady arms of the world's most beautiful sycamores . . . at Tlaquepaque, Sedona, U.S.A.

Right: Made-in-Mexico mission bells ring from the bell tower which shows above Tlaquepaque's tallest trees.

Archways, timbered ceilings, tile walks and wrought iron reflect the romantic influence of Mexican architecture and decor.

Tlaquepaque executive's suite by Dos Cabezas, House of fine Mexican imports.