Jim Bassler, Spotty 42" x 42" silk, waxed linen, synthetic dyes; 2007
a culture—any culture—that could define itself by what
it was, rather than borrowing from what it was not.
In June, 1973, our group set off from LAX to Mexico City,
where the Basslers met us before shepherding us, in a
small airplane, to Oaxaca City in the mountains to the
southeast. Jim drove a blue van which would become
familiar to us over the summer, as tirelessly he drove us
over often perilous mountain roads, barely paved, winding, overlooking sheer drops and waterfalls, landscapes
sublime and terrifying.
As I write, I struggle to remember the scenery of forty
years ago, and although I know Oaxaca was an extraordinary place, my memories of it are fragmentary. We made
HYLAND
