I applied to Ucross after hearing from several friends that it is the most incredible place, and indeed, it is breathtaking. Getting to Ucross, on the other hand, can be difficult. I decided that it would be best to drive from Chicago, mainly to save money and safely bring very large materials: 60” rolls of Yupo and watercolor paper. Later I found out that flight schedules in the region are exceptionally unreliable regardless of the airport chosen. Horror stories of malfunctioning engines and drunk, vomiting pilots left me glad to be traveling by car!
The hundreds of billboards all across South Dakota were so alienating that they deterred me from lingering to see Mount Rushmore or the Badlands. Many of them advertised Wall Drug, which (based on what I gathered from countless ads) sounded like a strip mall with lots of fast food, souvenirs, a giant diosaur, and 5-cent coffee.
This was God’s country. Among pleas for trusting Jesus and preventing abortions, the desolate landscape was littered with ads for adult superstores, crab houses, and unlikely tourist attractions. Several of the ads featured blonde women in bikinis. I couldn’t wait to drive out of South Dakota as quickly as possible.
Refreshingly, as soon as I crossed the Wyoming border, most of the advertising disappeared and the landscape became more visible and interesting. It was desolate and quiet for miles, with the occasional cow or horse, and at this point it hit me that I was 1000 miles away from home, all alone. To remember this moment, I shot a quick video with my phone simply pointed directly ahead on the road. Within seconds, a sign for Crazy Woman Creek whizzed by.
I eventually arrived at the juncture near Buffalo, and turned onto the smaller highway that was to take me to the Ucross entrance. This road was really magical – with rolling hills, creeks, pastures, herds, various kinds of birds, and lots of wooden ranch entrances that looked like goalposts with the ocassional hand-painted name, cow skull, or rusted metal sign. I arrived at Ucross in the afternoon and immediately felt as though I was a character in a movie. The paths, tractors, fluffy clouds and swaying grasses seemed flawless, theatrical. The air was clean and cool, with the smell of cut grass and a light breeze.
I was stunned by the amazing accommodations at Ucross. My bedroom had a comfy chair and a sink, among various other things, but what made me happiest was an elaborate folding-arm reading lamp installed on the wall above the bed, which I might have to buy for my own apartment in Chicago. We had room service once a week, and gourmet dinners were prepared every weekday by a professional chef, Cindy Brooks – including highlights like bouillabaisse, roasted artichoke, various items from the outdoor grill, baked salmon; and desserts like upside-down pear cake, chocolate orange mousse, homemade strawberry-orange sorbet, and the mixed berry tart pictured here. Each weekday at noon we had a hearty lunch left at our studio doors. The kitchen was stocked with all sorts of fruit, cookies, teas, and various other things… All of this is included in the residency program at no charge.
Most of the studios were a short bike ride across the field, and bikes were freely available throughout the property. I chose to walk, which meant that I made my way slowly enough to be confronted by all sorts of wildlife along the way: from whitetail deer to baby bunnies and wild turkeys. On one occasion, I came across a turkey that chose to sit directly on the narrow path through the grass. I approached slowly and realized that she wouldn’t move despite having noticed me. Eventually, she turned her head and finally got up, which resulted in the scattering of half a dozen fuzz-balls in every direction. There was panic in the air. I backed off as she approached me but then changed her mind and went on to collect her offspring. On another day I heard rustling in the grass and followed the sound with my eyes: it was a beautifully striped mountain garter snake – a graceful and symmetrical creature with lengthwise yellow and black stripes. The wildlife in the area was exciting. Even while I worked on my drawings, I would see various animals fly and run by my studio porch. I had a beautiful view of a creek and a herd of sheep, both of which made lots of comforting noise.
Despite my conscious decision to stay in and get a lot done, I managed to embark on a few adventures. I took a few long walks down Coal Creek Road, hoping to walk across the field and see the tipi rings on the other side of the hill. Unfortunately, this meant entering a gate and walking through a field of bulls. On one cool, cloudy day, a couple of residents and I decided to take a walk and approach the gate. We noticed that all of the bulls were peacefully grazing except for one; he stood motionless directly on the path, facing us, staring intently at us, and waiting. Instead of entering among the bulls, we went next door to the residency director’s geodesic home, which was truly amazing. Just then it started raining, and we were gathered like a bunch of unruly children and given a ride home.
Later that week, the owner of the cattle business gave us a tour of the ranch. We learned a lot: about the invasive leafy splurge that was noxious to cows but delicious and beneficial to the sheep, about the drinking hut where ranchers and hunters took breaks, about past artists who did unusual things like build houses for prarie dogs, about the weight and cost of cattle, their mating seasons, and various other facts about running a ranch. As we made our way up the hill, I noticed the large dirt pile that the residency director had mentioned. There was a bull playing in the pile: huffing, pawing, kicking the dirt, and rolling around. It seemed gigantic like a bulldozer, effortlessly digging through the dirt and majestically kicking it up in the air. We drove further, looking for the tipi rings. I had a hunch that they were at the edge of the overlook, so we parked and walked over. Sure enough, there were several circles of strategically placed stones once used to hold down the edges of Native American tipis. We couldn’t stay for very long. Nonetheless, I felt overwhelmed by the realization that these circles were arranged hundreds of years ago directly at the edge of an overlook. The clear view of much of the expansive landscape for miles and miles across probably hadn’t changed that much in the past several hundred years.
There were various other places that I didn’t get a chance to see – notably, the abandoned town of Ulm, which another resident, Laini, had a chance to explore and photograph.
Ucross had various leisurely items scattered throughout the site, like the fire pit behind the studios, or the telescope in the studio lounge. The nights were so dark that we needed flashlights to get back to the bedrooms – but this also meant that every star was visible on clear nights. We figured out how to work the telescope and, in combination with an iphone app called SkyView, found several planets including Saturn. I shot this iphone photo of the moon through the eyepiece of the telescope.
There was some turnover of residents during my three-week stay. The first group chose a night for show and tell, during which we visited each other’s studios and saw/listened to the work in progress by Dan, Emmy, Lynn, Josh, Laini, Verónica, and Rusty. In the second group, the jazz pianist Dred invited us to his secluded music studio on the other side of the Ucross site. This resulted in a night of drinking and singing Tom Waits and Leonard Cohen songs, and others too embarrassing to mention. I met many other great artists and writers during my stay: Rebecca, Stephen, Cathy, Tony, John, and Gordon. Everyone was super friendly and fun to hang out with, which made the three weeks pass way too quickly. Near the end, several of us drove over to Jentel, another artists’ colony in the region, where we met several other artists and writers, among them Jave, Mi-Sook, and Nancy.
Every Thursday, the Occidental saloon in nearby Buffalo, WY, has an open mic bluegrass jam session, where several musicians go up on stage unannounced. Check out my short video. It took me some time to accept that this was not staged – this is truly how people dress and spend their free time in the country. The culture of the area especially registered when half the room stood up during Amazing Grace, the last song of the evening. The beer and music were excellent. It turns out that the saloon/hotel has been around since the late 1800s. With several bullet holes in the ceiling, dozens of taxidermied animals, and the ghost of a young girl who roams the hallways and creepily plays with guests’ hair – the place was hardly cozy but nevertheless charming.
Despite all of these distractions, I pressured myself to complete the work planned for the residency, and I ended up with two large pieces, one of which I’m really satisfied with.
