Twisted Tours at Trundle Manor in Pittsburgh

This roadside oddity is a neighborhood haunt worthy of a detour. A fun combination of the weird and the macabre, the home includes a secret passage, a tumor that serenades visitors and plenty of other strange delights. 

The approach to Trundle Manor has a Bates family home feel to it — and then there’s the scary alien monster and the barrel of nuclear waste.

While Wally and I were looking for things to do in Pittsburgh, he stumbled upon Trundle Manor, a house of oddities and a museum of the bizarre. The quirky roadside attraction has been a fixture of the quiet residential neighborhood of Swissvale since 2009.

Intrigued, Wally sent an email to the proprietors and received a reply from the mysteriously named Mr. ARM, who asked when we’d like to stop by for a tour. “With a name like that we have to go,” Wally said, and decided then and there to schedule our visit.

One of the cute friends you’ll meet in the front yard

My parents, who we were traveling with, are up for anything. So we decided to throw caution to the wind and tell them we had a surprise for them. I asked my dad to set the GPS to 7724 Juniata Street. As we pulled up to the curb, we saw a colorful hand-painted sign at street level that read, “Trundle Manor,” beckoning visitors in (or warning them off). 

Not far from the sign was a yellow barrel stenciled with a hazardous waste symbol oozing green goo. When we looked up, we saw a two-story Victorian manor sitting atop a steep hill. The brick house looked a bit ominous, not unlike the Bates family house in Alfred Hitchcock’s movie Psycho.

Mima has a hair-raising and electrifying experience on the front porch.

The manor got its name from one of the couple’s epic Halloween parties. They invented the fictitious Trundle Graves Funeral Home and Taxidermy Service as part of the party’s theme, and the name stuck.

Wally takes a ride on the Loch Ness Monster.

My mom and dad exchanged looks, but they didn’t say anything. They’re used to our strange sensibilities. We got out of the car and walked up the steps leading to the front door. I rang the doorbell, and a moment later, the door was opened by our hostess, Velda von Minx. From the moment we saw her, Wally and I knew she was a kindred spirit. 

Our charming hostess, Velda von Minx, spun a nonstop tapestry of twisted tales.

Velda had blunt bangs, long wavy blonde hair, smoky eyes and an infectious laugh. She explained to us that her name is a sort of mashup of Zelda Fitzgerald, wife of author F. Scott Fitzgerald, and B-list actresses. It works. 

Her husband’s moniker, Mr. ARM, is an acronym using his initials. Sadly, he was indisposed. He had stayed up late the previous night and was sleeping during our visit. (Outside the manor, the couple are otherwise known as Rachel Rose Rech and Anton Raphael Miriello.)

This is what you can expect at Trundle Manor — strange and creepy items everywhere you look.

Here Comes Trundle

We were ushered into Trundle Manor and followed Velda into the dining room, which was decorated in a Victorian style, while muddled old-timey music crackled in the background.

Mima: We thought the taxidermied bird outside was telling us to go home. 

“Oh no!” Velda exclaimed. “But I’m glad you’re here. Welcome to Trundle Manor, our personal collection of weird and dead stuff.”

We looked around. The room was packed with oddities. 

Most of the taxidermied creatures at Trundle Manor have some sort of whimsical elements, like this bear, with his cymbals and marching band hat.

“About 15 years ago, we decided to open our house to the public and show off our collection,” Velda continued. “Anton grew up as a weird little kid, always bringing home dead things. His parents are both artists, and they encouraged him and would take him to flea markets, where they collected antiques and Art Deco pieces. He would always find something else to add to his collection.”

“Are you still collecting?” Mima asked. 

“Always! It’s hard to stop!” Velda chuckled. “People bring us things all the time, which is nice. It’s like our own personal museum drop-off. If they know you as someone who collects unusual things, they’ll often bring you items that they’ve inherited or that make them uncomfortable. I guess it’s a way for them to get rid of something that they don’t want, but also know that it’ll be appreciated by someone who loves weird stuff. We say it’s great to know people in different professions. Especially if you have friends in the funeral home industry, medical industry, veterinary technicians, people who clean out houses or even theater people — you’ll likely find that they have all sorts of cool things that they’re willing to part with.”

A small glass jar with something ashen inside and the name “H.H. Holmes” written on it, caught my eye. I asked Velda if they were the ashes of H.H. Holmes, the notorious serial killer at the center of Erik Larson’s brilliant book The Devil in the White City.

“It’s grave dirt,” she said with a smile. “From our favorite serial killer — if one needs a favorite serial killer. He was hanged at Moyamensing Prison in South Philadelphia in 1896 and buried in Holy Cross Cemetery in Yeadon, Pennsylvania, but his grave is unmarked. A local historian friend of ours got us some of the dirt from his grave.

“We also have grave dirt from some other famous people,” Velda added. “Like Rod Serling, Patsy Cline and Edgar Allan Poe. On the wall behind you is a jar of Bela Lugosi’s grave dirt. If it’s Dracula-related, we must have some of the earth he was buried in.”

I asked if the three bronze faces on the wall were of Lugosi. 

“They’re actually of Boris Karloff, Bela Lugosi and Vincent Price.” Velda replied. “We have Vincent Price’s autograph. My grandmother met him in Dayton, Ohio in 1972 during a summer production of Oliver! We also got to meet John Astin, the actor who played the original Gomez Addams, on The Addams Family,” she added.

Astin is an idol of Miriello’s, and the couple met him about 10 or 11 years ago when they drove out to Baltimore and pretended to be acting students at Johns Hopkins University, where  Astin was a director of the theater arts until his retirement in 2021.

Papa, Mima, Duke and Wally are only pretending to be scared. They loved their visit to this kooky home.

Velda eyed Wally’s iPhone with the chubby cat on the back. “I love your case,” she said. “Who’s the cat?”

“That’s our cat, Bowzer,” I replied. “He’s a bit of a chubster, but he’s a sweetheart.”

“Our cat was 25 pounds,” Velda said. “He was the ring bearer at our wedding. We had to weld together a little circus cage to carry him, because you can’t train a cat to walk down the aisle. We gently escorted him down the aisle, and he did a great job.

Wally laughed. “That sounds like a memorable wedding,” he said. “So, are you Mrs. ARM now?”

Velda smiled. “I guess so,” she said. “I always go by Velda von Minx, but of course I’ll take Mrs. ARM! We had a very unique wedding. We got married at the Braddock Carnegie Library, which was the first Carnegie Library in America. There’s a big Victorian-era music hall attached. We wanted a party wedding, so we had 12 bands, five belly dancers, a gourmet waffle buffet and an all-day open bar with an absinthe fountain. It was like a 14-hour event. That’s my wedding gown in the tall case.”

“Did you say an absinthe fountain? With real wormwood?" Papa asked.

“Not enough to make you hallucinate — but enough to make you good and drunk!” Velda chuckled. 

The couple’s wedding was an epic event, featuring multiple bands, a belly dancer and an absinthe fountain.

“And here we have our collection of medical oddities," she continued, gesturing to a nearby table. “Embalming equipment, vintage syringes, anal speculums, trepanation tools and a whole platter of gynecological tools that came in a box with a handwritten note that said, ‘Sorry, ladies.’ We had to have that.

Sorry, ladies! This tray holds a frightening mix of old-school medical devices once used for gynecological checkups, anal probes and trepanation.

“When we visit antique shops, we make it our mission to find the most upsetting things to buy. Like this embalming machine, used to pump fluid into a cadaver by a mortician. It would take a lot of cleaning, but I could totally see it as a margarita machine.

“Or this dental X-ray machine from the 1920s. It was used in a dentist’s office in Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania, up until the 1990s. There’s a sticker inside that says, ‘CAUTION: Radiation When…’ but the rest of the text has fallen off. Needless to say, we’re not going to plug it in.

“All of our taxidermy is real. We don’t  hunt or kill anything ourselves. We prefer the very old, kind of hungover-looking ones.”

“I love that one!” I said, pointing to a taxidermied fox sitting atop a cabinet wearing a tiny tiara and a pink ribbon.

“The Princess Fox?” Velda asked. “That’s our oldest, from the 1890s. And this is one of our creations: a werewolf-mermaid, or mer-wolf. The top half is our friend’s Rottweiler that died of natural causes and was donated to us. The bottom half is a carp. There are mahi-mahi fins and glass eyes from a blind human.”

Princess Fox, to the right in a tiara, is the couple’s oldest specimen, dating to the 1890s.

Velda directed our attention to a pair of hybrid creatures.

"This is also one of ours,” she said. “These fighting catfish are part cat and part fish, and they’re always fighting. We’re not expert taxidermists. We just have a glass of absinthe and see what happens. We’re influenced by gaffs, which are fake creatures pieced together from real animals. Think P.T. Barnum’s traveling sideshow stuff and the FeeJee Mermaid.”

She regaled us with a great story about one of her and Miriello’s adventures:

“One time, we saw what we thought was a cat that had been hit by a car on the main road. We felt really bad, so we pulled over to see if we could help. It turned out that it was actually a skunk. We had a kill kit in the back of our car, a briefcase with a cleaver and a bunch of Ziploc bags. I was wearing an evening gown, as I often do, squatting and holding open a bag, while Anton chopped off its head with the cleaver. We looked across the street and saw a little 10-year-old boy watching us. We were like, ‘Oh, sorry.’”

Wally asked, “What did you do with that skunk head?”

Velda replied with one eyebrow arched, “It’s sitting on a shelf somewhere in that cabinet.”

Wally asked Velda if she could share any stories of paranormal activity or spooky experiences involving their house.

“Technically, our house should be haunted,” Velda said. “The previous owner, Charlie, committed suicide in 2006, and we’re the first people to live here since. We learned from our neighbors that he didn’t have many people in his life, was a member of Mensa, and a bit of a hoarder. So, we like to think that he’s living vicariously through us.”

Velda continued. “Everyone who comes here is good-natured, whether they’re a friend, family member or guest at one of our parties. There’s always positive energy, and we get to see people’s best days. We like to think that we’re providing him with entertainment, if nothing else. When we go out of town, we ask Charlie to look after the house.”

Wally asked what the rest of the house was like beyond the museum. Velda replied, “There’s a total of four rooms that are open to the public. The upstairs is where we live, and it's more retro rockabilly. There’s a pinball machine, our Lego collection and a ’50s diner booth.”

She continued, “I should also mention that our most priceless item in this room is a tiger pelt from Indonesia. It was donated to us by a man who was cleaning out his mother’s home after she passed away. He told us that the pelt came from a small village in Indonesia where his father was born. Sometime in the 1950s, a young Sumatran tiger was spotted lurking near a densely populated residential area. Concerned that the tiger might attack or kill their children, the father shot it and had its pelt made into a rug.”

A Sumatran tiger that was killed in the 1950s and made into a rug was donated to Trundle Manor, and became their most priceless part of the collection.

So how did Trundle Manor come to be?

“What started out as a party space for friends and family, photo shoots, art shows, movie screenings and burlesque shows has turned into a roadside attraction. We now do about a dozen tours a week.”

Behold! Olivia’s Singing Tumor! One of the stars of the collection, this tumor came from their belly dancing friend, who still pops by to visit her erstwhile body part.

The Singing Tumor and Counterfeit Cash

Velda guided us out of the dining room and into the vestibule. 

“In our entryway, we have a human reliquary altar.” Typically, a reliquary is a container for religious relics that include the remains of saints, such as bones or pieces of clothing. “Ours contain parts of people that they’re no longer using anymore,” our charming tour guide continued. “We have my husband’s first mustache, in case his face melts off and I need to bandage him up and glue it back on. We also have a jar with a red lid that contains most of what’s left of a human brain. It was a wedding gift from our tattoo artist friend who received it as payment from a medical waste employee instead of cash. The original jar got thrown at him and shattered against a wall and is the reason why it’s incomplete. We also have a jar with a couple of months’ worth of skin flakes from our friend with psoriasis.”

A collection of prosthetic legs, lost to injury or illness, came from a friend who works at a retirement home. One from the 1940s has toes carved into the wooden foot.

Mima picked up some bills. “What’s this?” she asked. 

“We make our own money,” Velda explained, “because we loved the idea of having drawers full of cash like the Addams Family. We’re not rich, but we do have our own currency. I’m on the $3 bill, Mr. ARM is on the $13 bill, and our beloved cat, Little Devil, is on the $666 bill.”

Velda removed the covering from an object with a flourish to reveal the crown jewel of their collection. Floating within a custom-made steampunk brass and glass vessel (built by Mr. ARM) was a fist-sized mass. It wouldn’t look out of place among the contraptions of Captain Nemo’s submarine the Nautilus. This curiosity is Olivia’s Singing Tumor, bequeathed to them by their belly dancing friend, who still performs around Pittsburgh.

“This was a benign tumor on her uterus about 15 years ago,” Velda told us. “Hospitals typically don’t allow patients to keep surgical specimens, but Olivia was persistent, and they were able to freeze the tumor and give it to her in a Tupperware container.”

The assemblage sits upon an oak phonograph pedestal, complete with a pair of metal horns to amplify its “singing” — a song whose chorus Velda informed us is, appropriately, “I want my mommy.” Olivia occasionally comes to visit her tumor, Velda added. 

Also occupying the space is a bug-eyed, mustachioed 4-foot-tall animatronic Santa Claus wearing wire-rimmed glasses. It’s been remade into a likeness of Mr. ARM. It stands silently in the entryway. “We tinkered with it and re-recorded its voice to announce the collection,” Velda said. “But it malfunctioned after it got rained on and started singing ‘Jingle Bells’ in a rather demonic voice.”

The parlor at Trundle Manor has a bit more room — but don’t worry: It’s still stuffed to the gills with weird shit.

The Freeze-Dried Cat and a Gremlin Named Nigel in the Parlor

The four of us exited the entryway and followed Velda into the parlor, the largest of the rooms at Trundle Manor. 

“We can accommodate 12 to 15 people when we screen movies, which we do about once a month,” she told us. There’s a pull-down screen and a projector mounted to the ceiling. A couple of Velda’s favorites flicks include pre-code Hollywood horror movies such as Frankenstein (1931) and Mystery of the Wax Museum (1933). 

A portrait of Velda von Minx and Mr. ARM in the style of holy icons holds a pride of place on one of the walls. When I asked Velda about it, she told us that Anton’s parents are both artists who specialize in saint iconography painting.

“They’re not religious people,” Velda said. “But they’ve been painting saint icons since the 1970s. His dad paints the bodies and backgrounds, while his mom does the faces and hands.”

Velda added that the portrait was a wedding gift from her in-laws.

The painting of the couple was religious icons was done by Mr. ARM’s parents as a wedding gift.

I don’t think any of us were prepared for what Velda told us next about their dearly departed black cat, Little Devil. “We had him freeze-dried and preserved, and  placed him in a special glass box with a lid that unlocks so we can still reach in and pet him. We bought him a tiny top hat at the oldest hat shop in the world in London, where the royal family has had custom hats made for over 300 years. I’m surprised they let us through the front door!”

This handsome fellow is Little Devil, the couple’s cat, which has been freeze-dried. Gulp.

The fantastical throne in the parlor is a collaboration between Mr. ARM and his friend The Admiral. It’s their interpretation of the Eldritch Seat of R’lyeh and is an homage to H.P. Lovecraft’s octopus-èsque monster Cthulhu. The back piece was first sculpted in clay and then cast in plastic and treated to look like wood.

“We also built a birdcage with a miniature replica of the parlor inside,” Velda continues. Amazingly, she hadn’t run out of stories yet. “For a time, we thought we might have a gremlin, as we kept losing things in the house, only to find them again in places that neither of us had left them.

“So Mr. ARM and I decided to give our gremlin a place to hang out that we knew he would appreciate. We filled the decoy with real tiny dead specimens, a reading lamp, miniature Poe and Lovecraft books, custom leather furniture, a coffin to sleep in and my personal favorite: a fully stocked bar with bottles of absinthe, moonshine and an 18-year-old scotch. We named him Nigel, and if he is real, he’s living it up!”

One of the birdcages has a miniature setup of the room to keep the home’s gremlin, Nigel, so contented he won’t get up to mischief.

Wally noticed a birdcage themed like the Black Lodge from Twin Peaks and asked about it.  

“We adore Twin Peaks,” Velda said, scoring even more points with Wally. “That’s how we spent most of the pandemic, in the parlor watching David Lynch on repeat. There’s even a little cherry pie and miniature cup of coffee. Although I still need to finish making the curtains!”

Pointing to the wall, Velda said, “The moose is our biggest friend. We purchased him at an antique shop in central Pennsylvania. When we brought him home, we didn’t realize that he wouldn’t fit through the front door. We had to saw off his left antler in order to get him inside and reattached it upside down, because that’s how Pierre, the stuffed moose head in The Addams Family, had his antlers.

“Over in the corner,” Velda gestures, “and sitting atop a table near Little Devil is a fawn with a blonde wig that we call the Nudie Cutie. I don’t know why a taxidermist would have wanted a baby deer to look like a sexy pinup girl, but they did. I made her a bikini, and added false eyelashes and a wig.

“The big guy in the corner with the wooden leg and the ribs was something that my husband made when he was 15. His parents told him that he couldn’t have a dog, so he built one. It’s got the head of an alligator, deer bones and chicken wire. He would take it outside and drag it down the road on a leash.”

This creepy creature was Anton’s first creation, when he started playing Doctor Frankenstein at the age of 15.

In the barrister bookcase are two mummified cats. “Our neighbor found one under his porch and thought it would be a great gift for his wife, but when he gave it to her, she was horrified. The other one came from our friend who makes movie props. She found it when she was cleaning out her warehouse. She also gave us a dental chair from the 1930s and a perm machine from the 1920s. We call the perm machine our ‘feminine electric chair.’ The metal clips would attach to wet hair, and electricity would flow through its wires to cook it into being curly. The machine says: 115 volts/15 amps. One amp could electrocute a person.

Velda saw Mr. ARM tooling around town in his hot rods, stalked him on social and got herself invited over. It was love at first taxidermy lesson.

“My other favorite thing in the parlor is the two squirrels getting married,” Velda said with a smile. “They’re part of our love story.” 

For years Anton was part of the Drifters Car Club of Pittsburgh, a vintage motorsport club. “I would see him around town with his hot rods and sort of started stalking him on social media. And that’s how we met because I got myself invited over. That first night he said, ‘I’ve got a freezer full of dead squirrels. Do you want to learn taxidermy in my basement?’ To which I replied, ‘Of course!’”

Talk about a meet-cute! 

Nothing is as it seems in the Trundle Manor kitchen. Every cabinet opens to reveal a surprising mad scientist take on kitchen appliances.

That’s the Kitchen?!

Our final stop was the laboratory/gift shop/kitchen. The entrance is hidden behind a moveable display case in the dining room. It has all the typical appliances — they’re just concealed by panels, doors, buttons, switches, wheels and blinking lights that transform the room into a mad scientist’s laboratory. There’s even a device with an electric current that Mr. ARM uses to light cigars. 

Wish you were here?

Home, Strange Home

To some, Trundle Manor may seem a little disquieting and strange. But to its owners, Mr. ARM and Velda von Minx, it’s a labor of love. Their strange and wonderful collection fills every nook and cranny of the downstairs of their circa-1910 home.

Velda was kind, playful and genuine. Tours take about 45 minutes and are by appointment only. Velda von Minx and Mr. ARM accept donations of cash, booze or oddities in exchange for guided tours. 

If you’re planning a trip to Pittsburgh and are fans of oddities, as we are, it’s well worth making a reservation for a jaunt to this fascinating home. You’ll come away with numerous stories that begin, “You won’t believe this…” Obviously, Wally and I loved it, and my parents did, too. –Duke

Trundle Manor’s tagline is: The most unusual tourist trap in the world meets the most bizarre private collection on public display!

And we gotta say, that about sums it up.

Trundle Manor 

7724 Juniata Street 
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15218
USA

 

Fashion in Full Bloom at Billy Porter’s Extravaganza at the Phipps Conservatory

A journey through the impressive Phipps Conservatory and Botanical Gardens in Pittsburgh, where the latest exhibit, Flowers Meet Fashion: Inspired by Billy Porter is a fusion of flora and fabulousness. Strike a pose!

Duke, Mima and Papa were so inspired by the Japanese Garden at the Phipps Conservatory and Botanical Gardens, they decided to only speak in haiku.

I’ll say it: The Phipps Conservatory and Botanical Gardens puts Chicago’s Garfield Park Conservatory to shame. It was definitely one of the highlights of our trip to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where we spent a delightful long weekend with my parents. This stunning gem of Victorian-era architecture, adjacent to Panther Hollow in Schenley Park, has captivated guests for more than a century — and is sure to do so for years to come.

Visitors to the Phipps are greeted by a towering figure standing in front of a pink neon sign that reads, "You are an Icon." The skirt is made of petal-like layers. If you look closely, you can see hidden details, such as a map of Pittsburgh and song lyrics from the musical Kinky Boots.

From Roots to the Runway

Throughout the year, the conservatory changes themes seasonally, and our visit serendipitously coincided with the opening day of their summer show, Flowers Meet Fashion, a celebration of native son Billy Porter's local roots, his sartorial style and his love of flowers. 

For those of you who don’t know, Porter is an Emmy, Grammy, and Tony award winning performer and fashion icon. Billy is well known for his bold, creative and androgynous style, and is a tireless advocate for LGBTQ+ rights. According to the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, the seeds for the show were sown in the summer of 2021, when Porter returned to the City of Champions to direct the movie Anything's Possible, a coming of age romantic comedy about a trans girl in her senior year of high school. While shooting scenes at the conservatory, Billy found common ground with the personnel and decided to become a board member.

As Billy wrote in his memoir, Unprotected:

I didn’t have the words for any of this at the time, just a child's awareness that people carried themselves differently in different clothing, that fashion could affect a profound transformation, on the outside and inside both.

The Phipps purchased a few favorites from past exhibitions to add to their permanent collection, including American glass sculptor Dale Chihuly’s Goldenrod, Teal and Citron chandelier. The stunning sculpture hangs in the atrium, where it can be enjoyed by all visitors.

A Welcoming Homage to Porter’s Pittsburgh Roots

Our experience began on the ground floor of the airy glass-domed Welcome Center, where a 7.5-foot-tall silver mannequin positioned near the entrance stood wearing a voluminous black gown. Entitled “Home Grown: Planted Roots,” the garment was designed by Madison Michalko, one of six professional costume designers tapped to create pieces for the show.

Michalko found her muse in Billy’s gender-fluid style and in the state of Pennsylvania. The bodice of the dress is shaped like a keystone, the state’s official symbol, accented with gold buttons and white mountain laurel blossoms, the state flower. The wide-brimmed hat is a nod to the crystal-fringed one Porter wore at the 2019 Grammys and features strands of LED lights that flicker like lightning bugs, the state insect.

This tuxedo dress by Damian Dominguez is a powerful statement about the importance of self-expression and the freedom to be who you are. The top is an homage to Mister Rogers, while the skirt is a nod to Dominguez’s Mexican heritage.

Palm Court: The Dress That Defied Convention

The four of us took an elevator up to the first of 14 interconnected conservatory pavilions and entered the spectacular Palm Court. The palms grow in the central and largest room of the conservatory, which reaches 65 feet in height, is 60 feet wide and 450 feet long. 

Holding court before us on a raised platform was a stunning dress by Mexican-American costume designer and Carnegie Mellon University alumnus Damian E. Dominguez. The look was inspired by the now-iconic black velvet tuxedo gown and matching bolero jacket designed by Christian Siriano for Porter to wear at the 2019 Academy Awards. Porter’s ensemble pushed boundaries and raised a few eyebrows at the somewhat restrained awards show. 

Like Siriano’s dress, Dominguez’s gown is also made from velvet but features a red tuxedo jacket in a nod to another Pittsburgh native, Fred Rogers. The hand-embroidered skirt includes a yellow bridge, as well as marigolds and dahlias, a nod to the designer’s heritage and the traditional full skirts of Mexico, where Dominguez’s parents were born.

Carnegie Mellon students Chloe Brown, Huixin Kang, and Jen Tepe reimagined a 1960s pantsuit that takes inspiration from the late British fashion designer Alexander McQueen's iconic Sarabande dress.

Sunken Garden: A Beacon of Hope

Our next stop was the Sunken Garden, which was filled with the colorful and creative designs by students from the Fundamentals of Costume Design class taught by Susan Tsu, professor of design at Carnegie Mellon, Porter’s alma mater. The students had been asked to read his memoir and then work in teams to create designs that reflected different aspects of Porter’s life and career. 

We paused to admire the sheer white pantsuit with crocheted fungi created by Chloe Brown, Huixin Kang and Jem Tepe. The designers explained that the fungi are a botanical metaphor for Porter’s exploration of his identity and his journey to self-reliance.

Could there be a pea in this pod? Caifeng Hong and Katherine Chung’s design was out of this world. 

Caifeng Hong and Katherine Chung’s look was inspired by the theme of contrast and rebirth. The dress is made of olive green netting layered over a green silk organza gown and collar that conceals the face of the mannequin. The contrast between the light and airy netting and the heavy and luxurious organza creates a sense of movement and energy. The collar, meanwhile, adds a touch of mystery and intrigue. The overall effect is a dress that is both ethereal and otherworldly, evoking something extraterrestrial.

Carrie Anne Huneycutt and Evan Riley’s collaboration was Somewhere Over the Rainbow, celebrating Porter's legacy as a trailblazing figure in the LGBTQ+ community. 

Carrie Anne Huneycutt and Evan Riley collaborated on the third look, entitled “Statue of Liberation.” The corseted dress is enveloped by a shimmering rainbow that soars above the mannequin’s head and is held aloft by a torch made of colorful fabric strips. The “flames” emanating from the torch represent Porter’s passion, determination and generosity of spirit.

Cathy Trostle-Olivar's dazzling Egyptianate look floats above the water of the Victoria Room. 

Fit for a Queen: From Camp to High Art 

In the Victoria Room, a luminous costume rose from the waters. The look was designed by Cathy Trostle-Olivar and was inspired by Porter’s glittering gold Egyptian sun god Ra costume at the 2019 Met Gala. The theme that year was camp, which Porter said can sometimes be seen as “cheesy.” However, when executed properly, it can ascend to “the highest forms of fashion and art.” The pavilion uses blue Egyptian lotus aka waterlily and tall stately papyrus to great effect. 

Three bronze maiden statues by Edmond Amateis, which originally stood within niches in the walled garden of the local Mellon estate, hold court among the formal French garden at the back of the Broderie Room.

The Broderie Room: The XIV Factor

Modeled after the formal period gardens of French chateaux during the reign of Louis XIV, the Broderie Room takes its name from the French “parterre de broderie,” a type of garden arrangement translated as “embroidery of earth.” This style of garden design came from a time when nature was considered a force to be tamed. 

I don’t speak French, but I think that this photo of Wally and Mima is très mignon. 

This fabulous footwear is a wink to the 2013 musical Kinky Boots, which Porter starred in, and a reminder that sometimes the most unexpected things can save the day. 

While visitors are discouraged from throwing coins into the many ponds and water features throughout the conservatory to protect the flora and fauna, a wishing well can be found here. 

Chihuly’s celestial Desert Gold Star sculpture provides a brilliant blast of color amid the green hues of desert flora.

These flowers are so whimsical, they could have been plucked straight out of a Dr. Seuss book.

Gallery Room: Blooming With Creativity 

Visual arts students from CAPA 6-12, a local creative and performing arts school, have transformed the Gallery Room at Phipps Conservatory into a whimsical wonderland. Using papier-mâché, the students have created larger-than-life flowers and animals that are sure to delight visitors of all ages.

The Gallery Room showcases a collection of critters created by local students.

The centerpiece of the exhibit is a towering salvia spike that nearly reaches the ceiling. The spike is made up of hundreds of individual flowers, all of which have been carefully hand-crafted by the students. And in the center of the room, a menagerie of amphibians and animals frolic in a whimsical forest.

These looks made from plant material by Phipps master gardeners were so avant-garde, they could be on the red carpet at the Oscars.

South Conservatory: “Hort” couture

The sound of camera shutters and the strobe of flashbulbs add a fun theatrical element to the red carpet vibe of the South Conservatory room. Wally spoke with one of the friendly conservatory staffers, who informed him that the topiary models were created by the master gardeners at the Phipps. The nature-inspired garments were fashioned from plant material sourced and crafted onsite at the conservatory and are so stunning, they would impress the judges on Project Runway.

The first mannequin featured a dried leaf hat in the shape of a lady slipper orchid, and a full skirt fabricated from clusters of blue hydrangea flowers contrasted by a form-fitting acid green palm frond bodice.

This look, inspired by a tetra fish, is sure to turn heads — even underwater!

The second look reimagines the scales of a neon tetra fish. Blue-painted magnolia leaves create a fish scale pattern on the jacket and hood, while salal leaves were used for the pants. Marigold-colored staghorn ferns are transformed into the cuffs and lapels, and painted monstera leaves create the “tail fin.” The deep-sea diver-like boots are made of upcycled accession tags, the metal labels that are issued to plants when they become part of the Phipps collection.

Well, this look is one fashion-forward way to channel your inner bird (note the nest atop its head and the dress details made of pheasant feathers).

The third look uses salal leaves trimmed with pampas grass and a dried grapevine garland to create drama and height, encircling the mannequin's waist and head like a bird’s nest. Completing the look are upcycled accession tag bracelets and white pheasant tail feathers.

The woman Wally had spoken with about the topiary models also told him about the Tropical Forest Conservatory, a 12,000-square-foot, 60-foot-high space located behind the South Conservatory. If she hadn't, I think we might have walked right by it, which would have been a shame. The incredible space is home to the immersive Tropical Forest Hawai'i, showcasing a variety of endemic and native species from the state. 

As soon as we stepped inside, we were transported to another world. The air was humid and warm, and we were surrounded by lush vegetation, with towering native trees and cascading waterfalls. 

This lettuce-covered look was a showstopper. I sure hope there’s an opening under the hat so the fish can eat!

The Serpentine Room: Salad Days and a Surprise 

As we made our way past the final five costumes, found in the Serpentine Room, I was unsure which look I liked best. But once I saw the aquaponics dress, I knew without a doubt that it was my favorite. The ingenious installation was a truly innovative and sustainable design. The clear acrylic body contained live goldfish, and the hoop skirt was made of living lettuce. A placard explained that the lettuce cleans the water and maintains a healthy ecosystem for the fish, whose waste, in turn, fertilize the plants. It was a truly beautiful — and functional —  piece of art.

Drag queen Thee Suburbia’s ruby red dress is a tribute to Porter’s uplifting message and blooms with the power of positivity.

Brooklyn-based drag performer Thee Suburbia designed the ruby red dress. She was inspired by a personal encounter with Porter, who spoke to the entire crew about the importance of lifting one’s surroundings, while working on a music video shoot for his song “Children.” Thee Suburbia’s gown pays homage to Porter’s attire that day as well as his words. The bursting blooms are a metaphor for the power needed to be an uplifting and inspiring force. It’s a friendly reminder to Phipps visitors that we can make the world a better place by lifting each other up.

Mindy Eshelman’s sustainable suit and cape is a sartorial love letter to Pittsburgh and our planet.

Next up was a white mandarin collar suit and oxblood-lined cape designed by Mindy Eshelman, associate professor of costume design at Carnegie Mellon. The sustainable, locally sourced and upcycled vintage piece was a perfect reflection of Porter’s deep connection to Pittsburgh, as well as the possibilities for our collective future — one in which caring for the planet is imperative. The look has been paired with vintage brooches, including flowers for Phipps, bees recalling our interconnectedness with the natural world, and butterflies symbolizing personal transformation. 

NYC performer Gloria Swansong’s designs evolved from the long-established pageantry of drag queen balls, a parade of gender expression and aesthetics.

To close out the show, New York City drag performer Gloria Swansong served up two stunning looks inspired by the underground 1980s ballroom scene. Category is: Botanicals Eleganza.

The first was an Old Hollywood-style gown made of shimmering blush pink silk organza. The sleek form-fitting dress was adorned with silk roses handmade in NYC by M&S Schmalberg.

The second look was an iridescent bouquet sleeve dress, a beautiful and meaningful tribute inscribed with the names of ballroom legends to honor their contributions to the community.

Don't forget to stop and “Strike a Pose” in front of the Instagram-friendly pink and green vertical wall before you leave the Serpentine Room.

Café Phipps: Lunch Break  

We arrived at the conservatory at 10:30 a.m. and were starving by noon. My dad and I are both notorious for getting hangry, so the four of us headed over to Café Phipps, which is located in the Welcome Center, across from the gift shop.

After taking a look at the elevated and healthy menu options, we agreed to have lunch there. The menu featured a variety of dishes made with fresh, seasonal ingredients. Wally and I shared a spinach and kiwi salad and a Hawaiian pulled pork sandwich. Both were delicious and satisfying.

Another Chihuly work, Celadon and Royal Purple Gilded Fiori, captures attention at the center of the Tropical Fruit and Spice Room.

Chihuly’s vibrant glass installation, Cattails, can be found nestled amongst the lush greenery of the Palm Court. 

The Porter-inspired show is a delightful experience, where talent and collaboration flourish. Whether or not you make this summer’s show, though, the Phipps is a feast for the senses. 

Be sure to find the Longfellows by Hans Godo Fräbel in the Orchid Room.

The Lowdown

Flowers Meet Fashion: Inspired by Billy Porter is on display at the Phipps Conservatory and Botanical Gardens until June 25. 

Admission is $21.95 for adults; $19.95 for students over 18 and seniors 62 and older; $13.95 for children ages 2-18; and free for Phipps members and children under 2. 

A bronze sculpture of Scottish poet Robert Burns, holding a plow and contemplating a mountain daisy, stands outside one of the Victorian glasshouses at the Phipps Conservatory.

Phipps Conservatory and Botanical Gardens 

1 Schenley Park Drive 
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
USA

 

Oddities Flea Market: A Bizarre Bazaar of Unforgettable Finds

Regina and Ryan Cohn’s warped brainchild is a fantastic journey of curious collectibles.

The Oddities Flea Market is filled with items to start your own cabinet of curiosities.

When I asked Wally about attending the Oddities Flea Market, an event that brings together vendors from all over the country to sell their unusual wares, his answer was a resounding yes. (Actually, he probably looked at me and said, “Uh, duh.”)

We knew we were kindred spirits when we met — but before Wally, I identified as a minimalist. He’s a maximalist and loves collecting things. Turns out that when a minimalist moves in with a maximalist, you end up with just a little bit more stuff. I decided to embrace the aesthetic and figure out ways to creatively curate vignettes. Eventually, I succumbed and became a maximalist, too. 

Our burgeoning collection of oddities consists of a human skull named Malachi that’s supposedly a World War II trophy, a taxidermied squirrel with an Elizabethan lace collar, a two-headed African fetish figure, or nkondi, stuck full of nails, and a mummified llama fetus our friend Hugo picked up for Wally in Ecuador — to name just a few. 

When it came to the fair, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I knew that local chef Halee Raff of Hardbitten would be there with her elevated and colorful riff on Pop-Tarts, as well as Woolly Mammoth, one of our favorite shops in the Andersonville neighborhood, but other than that I wasn’t sure what we’d find. 

Vendors from around the country have booths at the market.

Embracing the Strange: The Birth of the Oddities Flea Market

The Oddities Flea Market was founded by Regina and Ryan Cohn about six years ago. Ryan was well-versed in buying and collecting antiques and oddities while Regina was making a name for herself in fashion. They combined their passions into a traveling emporium that celebrates the weird and wonderful. 

Their first market launched in 2017 and introduced the concept of oddity collecting to the general public at the now-shuttered Brooklyn Bazaar. Since then, the Cohns have expanded to additional markets in Los Angeles and Chicago. “It’s only the second time we’ve been to Chicago,” Ryan told us. “So it was a nice reintroduction.”

I am doll parts: some of the creepy-cute creations from Sideshow Gallery

This year the Chicago market was held over two days in April at Morgan Manufacturing. The red brick building predates the Great Chicago Fire of 1871 and acts as an industrial chic event space in the hip West Loop neighborhood. 

We weren’t alone in our curiosity for curiosities. When we arrived at 11 a.m. for VIP early access, there was already a small queue forming. Some lucky attendees had planned ahead and signed up to take a cat skeleton articulation class taught by Ryan. By the time we had gotten our tickets, the workshop was sold out. Next time. Maybe. 

Death masks on display from Wooly Mammoth

Not for the Faint of Heart: Entering the Fair

After checking in, we passed a booth which featured a selection of T-shirts and totes for sale (black, of course). We took a closer look and noticed that the screen-printed images were of Ryan’s personal work — Beauchêne, also known as the art of the exploded human skull.

The soundtrack for the event was provided by Dead Animal Assembly Plant, spinning songs near the entrance, with a backdrop of projections of creepy vintage cartoons. 

Spooky and silly classic cartoons played above DJs from Dead Animal Assembly Plant.

Wally and I couldn’t help but salivate as we passed by the selection of Hardbitten’s delectable baked goods. Nearby, the sophisticated cocktail bar offered a variety of specialty drinks, each with an intriguing name: Memento Mori, Sideshow, the Veneration, Wunderkammer. No judging, but it was a bit early for us to imbibe. If you were seeking a caffeine fix, Spiritus Coffee from Lombard, Illinois was the place to go.

A seclection of Hardbitten’s treats, including their riffs on Pop-Tarts

We wandered through the market, discovering an impressive variety of wondrous wares: natural history specimens, taxidermy (both artistic and traditional), creative jewelry and a few truly macabre specimens. Here are a few of our favorites. 

A woman poses for her tintype photo from Blkk Hand.

A Handful of Shadows: Blkk Hand

St. Paul-based photographer Carla Alexandra Rodriguez uses an old-school process known as wet-plate collodion to create eerily beautiful tintype portraits. This method, which dates back to the 1850s, requires precise chemistry, accurate timing and a classic large-format camera. 

Silver nitrate is used in the processing of tinplate photography and is a highly reactive chemical that can cause skin to turn black if it’s not handled properly. Her studio, Blkk Hand takes its name from this phenomenon — and is why Carla always wears gloves when working. 

Nora Past, seen in a developing tintype photo, assisted at the booth.

How’s it work? The process begins with coating a metal plate with a collodion solution that contains a mixture of alcohol, ether and silver nitrate. Each plate is exposed to light in the camera, which converts the silver nitrate to silver metal. 

This challenging and time-consuming method produces incredibly detailed images with an ethereal quality, capturing the beauty of a moment in a way that no other type of photography can.

Memento Mori Los Angeles co-sponsored the flea market.

Death Becomes Them: Memento Mori Los Angeles

Our favorite booth at the flea market belonged to Memento Mori Los Angeles, run by Brad and Deidre Hartman, a Cali-based duo who create beautiful and macabre works of art. Their pieces are a reminder of the inevitability of death, while also celebrating the beauty of life.

Among their fascinating objects were skulls, insects, crystals, jewelry, and an assortment of devotional candles featuring musical artists like Siouxsie Sioux and Nick Cave. We were mesmerized at the offerings, including a riff on the infamous Fiji mermaid hoax, a glass cloche containing human teeth and a basket filled with supple leathered purses made from genuine cane toads. I was skeptical at first when I picked one up to examine it — but it was definitely real. Don’t feel too bad, though. These amphibians were originally introduced as a means of pest control, but ended up becoming an invasive species. So now, instead of eating cane beetles, they’re just hanging out as purses and looking cute. I suppose there are worse fates. 

A replica of the Fiji mermaid, a Witchling chick and other artistic takes on taxidermy from Memento Mori Los Angeles

I was particularly drawn to their Witchlings, yellow ducklings wearing tiny witch hats, as well as a two-headed duckling called Double Trouble. Brad and Deidre’s work is a reminder to live life to the fullest and to appreciate the beauty that surrounds us, even in death.

Playful fake taxidermied heads on display at the Odds and Ends booth

Faux Real: Odds and Ends 

We stopped by Odds and Ends, featuring the work of Atlanta-based Chloë Grass, who creates quirky faux taxidermy trophies and other oddities. She studied at the Arts University Bournemouth in the U.K., where she honed her skills in prosthetics sculpting and special effects makeup.

I loved her double-headed lamb, which was both cute and creepy. (I’m realizing I have a thing for two-headed creatures.) It was definitely a conversation starter, and I couldn’t help but smile when I saw it. Chloë’s creations reflect my favorite type of art: whimsical and a little bit weird.

A selection of vintage fake eyes at Eyeba’s booth

I Only Have Eyes for You: Eyeba

We were blown away by Brooklyn-based jeweler Amanda Maer Huan’s booth at the flea market, Eyeba. She takes antique prosthetic eyes and sets them in sterling silver to create rings, pendants and other fine jewelry.

As we browsed her wares, Amanda gave us a brief education on the myth of the round glass eye. While the visible portion of the prosthesis appears round, the part that sits within the eye socket is actually curved like a pasta shell. They’re custom-made to match the size and color of the wearer’s functioning eye. 

Windows to your soul? Amazing rings from Eyeba

The rings were hypnotic. I had to literally drag Wally away.

Deadskull Curio had the most macabre offerings at the market.

A Portal to Another World: Deadskull Curio 

Deadskull Curio was the most global booth at the Oddities Flea Market. It had everything from hand-carved wood masks to antique Asian marionette puppets to Tibetan kapala skull cups. They even had black and white morgue and crime scene photos from the 1960s, vertebrae and a horrific preserved cat’s head in a jar of formaldehyde.

The collection of death photos had a warning

The booth is owned by Paul Abrahamian, who, randomly, competed in two seasons of Big Brother. He was a cool guy who was obviously passionate about his collection. Items were flying off the shelves as we were looking at them — but we decided to pass on the cat’s head specimen. It would have been like having a pet cemetery in our living room, and we’re not sure our cat Bowzer would have appreciated it.

The saucy teacups from Miss Havisham’s Curiosities were inspired by the owner’s cheeky grandmother.

Steeped in Humor: Miss Havisham’s Curiosities 

Miss Havisham's Curiosities is a line of insult teacups created by Melissa Johnson. The idea was inspired by two sources: the jilted bride trapped in time in Charles Dickens’ novel Great Expectations, and Melissa’s grandmother, who expressed herself by writing offensive things on broken or chipped teacups with nail polish and then selling them at her antique shop.

On the outside, these teacups are proper, often vintage, china. But on the inside, they’re hiding naughty surprises: cheeky insults written in cursive:  “Syphilitic,” “No one likes you!” and “Not today, Satan!” The teacups are the perfect way to spill the tea and say what you really mean…without actually having to say it.

Hidden in the Poison Forest, 2021

We were drawn to Katie Gamb’s artwork because of its twee yet sinister quality.

Sugar and Spice, But Not Everything Nice: Katie Gamb 

Katie Gamb is a Milwaukee-based artist who creates whimsical and macabre worlds in her illustrations. Her work is a love letter to a childhood spent lost in books, where animals, humans and monsters like skeletons all live together in a world of wonder. As Wally and I looked at her work, I turned to him and said, “They’re adorable at first glance — but they get a little creepy when you look closer.”

“That’s exactly what I go for,” Katie said, smiling at us.

My Heart’s Still Beating, 2019

Like much of the art we appreciate, Gamb’s works tread the line between creepy and cute.

One piece depicted a bird fluttering within the rib cage of a skeleton, while another showed a girl dressed as a ghost in a forest of poisonous plants. Katie’s imagination is a portal to a strange and wondrous world, where anything is possible. I regret not circling back to purchase a sticker featuring a sad cat playing an accordion with a feather sticking out of its mouth.

Katie’s work reminds us that the world isn’t always as it seems. There’s beauty in the darkness.

Feral Femme Art’s booth evoked a freakshow from the past with interactive artworks.

Step Right Up, Folks: Feral Femme Art

We ended the show at the Feral Femme Art booth, with a conversation with Rachaela DiRosaria, a New Orleans-based folk artist who creates assemblages that evoke the nostalgia of Depression-era circus and sideshow advertising. Their hand-painted figures and moveable parts bring these sideshow performers and circus freaks to life. 

Artist Rachaela DiRosaria posing with Zach Wager, who spun records at the market.

Inveterate

Funhouse

The Tattooed Woman

Rachaela’s work is infused with a dark humor that’s both playful and unsettling — an interactive stagecraft of delight.

Double Trouble has found a new home amid the other oddities chez Duke and Wally.

After making our way through the different vendors, I turned to Wally and said, “I’d like to go back and get Double Trouble. Are you cool with that?” To which Wally replied, “Obvi.” 

Exploring the Oddities Flea Market was a quirky adventure that appealed to our inner freaks, and we’re glad we had the chance to attend. 

The next iteration will be held at the Globe Theatre in LA on October 7, 2023 — a perfect day, in my humble opinion, as it’s also my birthday.  –Duke

From Starter to Star: How Boulenc Became the Must-Visit Café in Oaxaca

Say bonjour to a taste of France at the hottest bakery and breakfast spot in Oaxaca City, Mexico.

The open-air dining area of Boulenc has a bohemian vibe and an eye-catching pendant.

For Wally and me, the best places are often the ones shared among friends. This is how we came to make a pilgrimage to Boulenc, after one of my coworkers stayed at the attached hotel for a couple of days and raved about the food and atmosphere. 

However, we didn’t realize how easy it is to pass by.  

“Let’s talk about the real reason you go to Boulenc: the food and drink, which is beautifully presented and delicious.

They definitely serve up one of the best breakfasts in town. ”

Somehow we found ourselves getting lost in Oaxaca de Juárez, Mexico more often than we typically have in other cities. Centro, the “downtown” of this laidback town, has a dense and irregular network of streets that more than occasionally change names. 

The unassuming façade of Boulenc is easy to pass by.

For this reason, we walked past the faded blue façade on Calle Porfirio Díaz a couple of times before realizing it was Boulenc. If the metal grille doors covered with flyers and a chalkboard that lead to the main dining patio happen to be closed, you’d never know you’ve reached one of the culinary hotspots of Oaxaca. 

However, we were determined — and by our third day in the enchanting city, we arrived early and soon found ourselves having breakfast there. Boulenc is attached to and part of the panadería, or bakery, that brought the artisanal bread movement to Oaxaca nearly a decade ago. 

Stop into the bakery next door for some delicious pastries and artisanal breads.

Juan Pablo: The Pope of Pastries

But let’s start at the beginning. The bakery’s mastermind and co-founder, Juan Pablo Hernández aka “Papa,” first took an interest in teaching himself how to bake bread, specifically sourdough, while working at a friend’s restaurant. 

No one knows for certain how Papa acquired his nickname. However, Boulenc’s co-owner Bernardo Dávila has a theory. They’ve been friends since their teens, and Juan Pablo has had the moniker since he was very young. Bernardo thinks that it could be because Juan Pablo attended a Catholic school, and at the time, the name of the sitting pope was John Paul II aka Juan Pablo. In Spanish, the word for Pope is Papa — not to be mistaken with Papá, which means Dad. 

Since his friend’s restaurant was only open for lunch and dinner, Juan Pablo asked if he could use the kitchen before it opened for the day to experiment and learn to make different types of non-traditional loaves, including the bread that started it all, sourdough. 

Great food, great service and a charming boho chic vibe to boot

Starting From Scratch: The Rise Of Boulenc

In January 2014, Juan Pablo invited his good friends Bernardo and Daniel López to Oaxaca de Juárez to convince them that it was the right time to open a bakery. He had been selling his artisan bread as a side hustle. He had created a logo and landed on Boulenc, which comes from the word for bread maker in the Picard dialect of France. 

“We came to Oaxaca right before the boom,” Bernardo recalls. “We knew that it had to be located in Centro, because that’s where all the restaurants and tourists are.” 

The trio found a suitable location that was formally an art gallery space. It was within their budget — and became the first incarnation of Boulenc. It didn’t have much, Bernardo says, but it did have three capable co-owners who were up for the challenge. 

Boulenc moved to a larger space and now has a boutique hotel attached (and some cool murals in the restaurant).

Their instincts had proven right. The bakery was quite popular and quickly found devotees. About two years later, one of their loyal customers asked if they might be interested in relocating to the colonial-era home across the street at Calle Porfirio Díaz 207.

“It’s a huge house,” Bernardo says. “When we went to check it out, there were just three people living there with three massive Neapolitan mastiff dogs. It was a little weird but it was also a good deal, so we said yes.” 

So, in 2016 Boulenc relocated and went from being a cafeteria counter limited to seven customers to a full-blown restaurant that can accommodate up to 25 people. 

Juan Pablo is known for his amazing pastries and breads.

A Passion for Baking and Local Ingredients 

Juan Pablo is known for his passion for baking and his use of fresh, regional ingredients. He sources his flour from a nearby mill in Nochixtlan, and fruits, nuts and other ingredients from small local producers. 

“I believe in using natural, healthy ingredients and making everything from scratch,” Juan Pablo told Plate magazine. “I’m very particular about the ingredients that I use, and I like to know where they come from.”

Boulenc has something for everyone, and serves breakfasts, salads, sandwiches, pizzas and a variety of beverages too long to list here. If you just want to grab something to go, there are European-style artisan breads, delectable pastries and coffee you can get at the bakery counter next door to the restaurant. 

The bar at Boulenc has a cool wire sculpture created by the owners’ friends at Máscaras de Alambre.  

A Fresh Start

Boulenc expanded the business by renovating and adding Boulenc Bed and Bread, a seven-room boutique hotel. 

Paulina García, another co-owner of Boulenc, moved from Saltillo, Mexico and began making jams and preserves in the kitchen above the restaurant patio before experimenting with fermented foods. Eventually she and Daniel opened Suculenta, a provisions store next door to the café. 

Both projects were completed and opened to the public in 2020. 

Despite their success, the founders of Boulenc are constantly trying out new recipes and techniques. 

“I’m always experimenting and trying new things,” Juan Pablo told the Oaxaca Times. “I’m constantly looking for ways to improve and refine our recipes, and to create new flavors that people will love.” 

Most recently, the founders organized and attended a five-day cheesemaking workshop with David Asher from the Black Sheep School of Cheesemaking at a ranch outside of Oaxaca de Juárez. And knowing them, they’ll find a way to introduce some incredible homemade cheeses in the future. 

Be sure to stop into Boulenc at least once during your time in Oaxaca — you won’t be disappointed!

Breakfast at Boulenc 

Over the seven days that Wally and I stayed in Oaxaca, we came to Boulenc twice, and that’s high praise since they had tough competition from our hotel’s in-house coffeeshop, Muss Café. 

Boulenc’s dining room proper is just beyond the doors I mentioned earlier. Inside is a tranquil, open-air courtyard with rustic wooden tables and chairs.  

The walls of the interior courtyard reminded me of another excellent restaurant we dined at in Fez, Morocco called the Ruined Garden, which occupied part of a former dar, or traditional Moroccan home. 

But let’s talk about the real reason you’re here: the food and drink, which is beautifully presented and delicious. They definitely serve up one of the best breakfasts in town. 

During our first visit, I ordered a velvety cold brew that was so good I didn’t need to add milk. Wally had an iced latte, and since he ordered a second one, I know that he enjoyed his drink, too. 

For breakfast, I got a stack of warm, fluffy pancakes made with rice, oat and almond flour served with bananas, blueberries, blackberries, strawberries and figs. This was accompanied by maple syrup served out of a copita, a small gourd cup, and housemade granola. Wally had the turkey ham and cheese croissant with a fried egg, chipotle mayonnaise and fresh tomato. Not traditional Mexican fare, but sometimes when you travel, you crave something continental. 

There’s not a lot of seating, and Boulenc is a popular spot, so be sure to get there early.

A word of advice if you’re interested in having breakfast at Boulenc: Arrive early to avoid waiting in line. It’s a popular spot, and Wally and I made sure to arrive just before 8:30 a.m, when the restaurant opened. We were able to get right in. Breakfast is served until 1 p.m.

The restaurant runs like a well-oiled machine. The staff are friendly, knowledgeable and attentive, which made for a wonderful experience. And while we certainly didn’t feel rushed, there was already a line forming when we left at 9:15. 

To one side of the restaurant is the bakery; on the other is Suculenta, an adorable provision shop.

After breakfast, we popped into Suculenta. You’ll find delicious jarred foods, cheeses, natural wines, organic fruits, vegetables and more. 

We bought mustard with capers, mango and pineapple marmalade, a cocoa peanut butter and jabón de cacao (an exfoliating soap with cacao nibs from Mamá Pacha Chocolate). 

Suculenta offers a selection of homemade condiments and other items, all charmingly packaged.

A variety of booze is on offer at the tienda, with a focus on natural wines.

If the store’s not open, you can also purchase a variety of their goods at the bakery counter. 

The verdict: You might have to keep your eyes peeled to find it, but be sure to add this to your Oaxaca itinerary. And should you have to join the queue, know that it’s worth waiting for. –Duke

Boulenc 

Calle Porfirio Díaz 207
Ruta Independencia
Centro
68000 Oaxaca de Juárez
México

 

Oaxaca Day Trip to Tlacochahuaya and Teotitlán del Valle

First stop: the Iglesia de San Jerónimo Tlacochahuaya, with its heavenly rustic painted interior. Then on to Teotitlán del Valle for lunch at Tlamanalli and gorgeous candles from Casa Viviana.

This amazing church in San Jerónimo Tlacochahuaya, with its rustic paintings, is en route to the natural wonder of Hierve el Agua.

To say that there’s a vast amount of things to do and see in Oaxaca is an understatement. So when Wally and I agreed to take a day trip to Hierve el Agua, a natural mineral spring where water collects in clifftop pools, I insisted that we make a few stops along the way. 

Driving is the best way to get around outside of town, and our friend Kevin, an expat living in Oaxaca de Juárez, kindly agreed to rent a car. 

While driving in Oaxaca, you might have to stop to let herds of cattle pass by.

You also might see stray dogs in flagrante delicto.

We set out early and met him and his friend David at Alamo Rent a Car, which was a short walk from Casa Antonieta, where we were staying in Centro. 

After a few minutes of waiting in line and filling out paperwork, we were ready to begin our adventure. It helped having a friend familiar with renting a vehicle in Oaxaca. 

The lowdown: It cost us $75 for the day, including insurance. 

Alamo Rent a Car
Mariano Matamoros 203 A
Ruta Independencia
Centro 68000 
Oaxaca de Juárez

You can’t miss the church — it dominates the small village of San Jerónimo Tlacochahuaya.

Iglesia de San Jerónimo Tlacochahuaya: A Rustic Church Painted With Symbolism 

Our first stop, about a half hour southeast from Centro Oaxaca, was the 16th century Iglesia de San Jerónimo Tlacochahuaya, aka the Templo de Tlacochahuaya, the centerpiece of the village of the same name. Try pronouncing it as “Tella-kocha-huh-why-uh” — a name that basically means “In the Swamp.” This is because the town is located in a valley surrounded by mountains, which makes it prone to flooding. 

The pueblo was founded by a Zapotec warrior by the name of Cochicahuala, which translates to “He Who Fights by Night.”

A sculpture of Jesus on a donkey, representing how he entered Jerusalem, sits in the back corner of the iglesia and is used during a Palm Sunday procession.

We parked the car and walked along the outer wall surrounding the church. I could hear the rhythmic beat and swirling melody of an unseen drummer and woodwind player, which to me sounded a bit like music from a Renaissance Faire. This set the mood for our visit — it was like stepping back in time to an older, slower-paced pre-modern world.   

The church’s main façade is made up of twin bell towers, pilasters (low-relief columns that project slightly from the surface), a split pediment and niches with sculptures of various saints. An image of Saint Jerónimo, or Saint Jerome, the church’s patron, is depicted above the central doorway, with God’s trumpet directed to his ear. 

All of the walls inside the Templo Tlacochahuaya are covered with red, blue and tan painted designs.

This fresco portrait depicts Saint Mark seated atop a winged lion (which is actually a symbol of Venice, Italy).

San Jerónimo’s heavenly hand-painted interiors are a mix of Baroque and indigenous pre-Hispanic imagery. These include plants and flowers that arc overhead like garden arbors. Tones of blue were achieved using indigo extracted from the leaves of the plant and pink blush tones from cochineal, an insect that feeds on nopal cactus and produces the color carmine red.

We had driven all the way here — we weren’t going to let a Do Not Enter sign prevent us from popping in.

Offerings of flowers fill one smaller altar inside the chruch.

The main altarpiece is a stunning example of Plateresque style, which comes from the Latin word platearius, which means “silversmith.” A gilded golden masterpiece, the retablo includes a painting depicting the moment when Christ’s body was removed from the cross to be taken away for burial, and is attributed to Juan de Arrué, one of the most renowned religious artists of Mexico’s colonial era. 

Wooden carvings, oil paintings, gilded frames and simplistic paintings create lovely vignettes.

A statue of the Virgin Mary with the Sacred Heart

We had only been inside for a short time before we were chased out by one of the church’s caretakers. The man spoke to us rapidly in Spanish that was too difficult for me to understand. Kevin mentioned that he thought the man may have been asking for a donation. In hindsight, it probably was due to the fact that there was a No Pasar sign posted at the entrance, which I had missed but Wally had pointedly ignored as we entered. 

Iglesia de San Jerónimo Tlacochahuaya
Calle Unión 17
San Jerónimo Tlacochahuaya

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The Mendoza sisters cook indigenous Zapotec cuisine at their restaurant, Tlamanalli.

A Taste of Zapotec Tradition at Tlamanalli 

After visiting the church, we got back into the car. As we headed out of town, we saw two dogs having sex. We weren’t sure what kind of omen that was. At any rate, we were headed to our next stop, Teotitlán del Valle, 20 minutes away, and a short detour to the northeast. The artistic enclave is known for its high-quality woven goods — and candles (but more on that later). 

Duke, Kevin and Wally sit on the staircase in the center of Tlamanalli.

First up: a delicious lunch at Tlamanalli. The restaurant came highly recommended by our primary care physician, Ross Slotten, who shares our passion for travel. The restaurant has been serving patrons for over three decades. 

Using ancient culinary techniques and recipes that have been passed down through generations, Tlamanalli is co-owned and run by Maestra Abigail Mendoza Ruiz and her sisters, Marcelina, Rufina, Rosario and Adelina. The menu pays homage to indigenous Zapotec cuisine, a legacy that Mendoza Ruiz is recognized for internationally. The space, which is low-key and humble, feels like a large home, a deeply personal space that honors their familial bond. 

The menu is limited and written on a small chalkboard. Wally and I each ordered the quesadillas de calabaza (pumpkin quesadillas) and washed it down with a cold beer. 

The menu is written on a chalkboard —and note that you can only pay in cash.

Tlamanalli makes a great stop for lunch (and shopping) en route to Hierve el Agua.

A prominent feature of the establishment is its large open kitchen, which was designed by Mendoza Ruiz. The restaurant is off to one side of the central staircase, and the other side is a shop selling a wide variety of handmade items. We can never say no to artisan-made goods and ended up purchasing a plate with a mermaid sporting perky raised-relief breasts, a candle holder in the shape of an axolotl and a small winged ceramic devil ensnared by a serpent. 

The adorable Abigail Mendoza Ruiz, whipping up dishes with her sisters in the restaurant’s open kitchen.

The restaurant is spacious and offers ample seating. However, we weren’t visiting during peak season, and due to the popularity of the spot, you might want to plan ahead and make reservations. 

Open: 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. 

Reservations recommended 

Tlamanalli
39 Avenida Juárez
Teotitlán del Valle

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Gorgeous handmade candles at Casa Viviana

Waxing Poetic About a Master Candlemaker: Casa Viviana 

The real reason I wanted to visit Teotitlán was to meet the master candlemaker at Casa Viviana. 

The legendary artisan and her family live on a quiet unpaved road. The only indication that we were at the right spot was a sign hanging outside an unassuming door leading into the living quarters, workshop and store.

But when we arrived, the front door was locked. We knocked loudly — I really didn’t want to go away disappointed — and eventually the door opened and we were led into the central courtyard. 

Turns out we had interrupted a family celebration. But Doña Viviana Alávez, the matriarch of the family, graciously welcomed us into her shop. 

Viviana herself came out to help us, briefly leaving a family party. We love the local tradition of connecting two long braids with ribbons.

Viviana is recognized as one of the grand masters of Oaxacan folk art. Her family has been making handmade beeswax candles for over 300 years. These remarkable works of art are mostly used for traditional celebrations, including baptisms, engagements, weddings and funerals. 

Many of Viviana’s candles are bought for special occasions.

When we visited, Viviana didn’t have any big tapers left — the elaborate 4-foot-tall constructions I had seen in images and videos online. (Perhaps it was for the best — I’m not sure how we would have gotten one home.) 

She did, however, have a variety of small intricate flower candles. The candles are known as velas tradicionales de concha, for the delicate shell-like shapes of their ornamentation and are made from wax that is cut, shaped and dyed with natural colorants like cochineal (red), indigo (blue) and pericón (yellow), which are added to the beeswax. 

After some deliberation, we purchased a few of the small traditional velas to give as gifts as well as one shaped like a lily and one shaped like a cactus that came in a small ceramic pot for ourselves. The candles came to about $7.50 each — a small price to pay for these works of art. 

The maestra herself: Viviana holds two of her works.

We passed a loom with nopal cactus paddles above it (those white bits are actually cochineal bugs used to make red dye).

Open: 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. (but maybe call ahead)

Casa Viviana 
Absalo s/n
Teotitlán del Valle 

With our purchases safely packaged by Doña Viviana, we said our goodbyes and returned to the car. It was time for us to continue our trip to the popular tourist destination of Hierve el Agua. –Duke

The Pabst Mansion in Milwaukee: Hopped Up on History

Take a tour of the historic home of the preeminent beer baron, Captain Frederick Pabst — an architectural gem from the Gilded Age that’s sure to quench your thirst for fun things to do in Milwaukee. 

“Could you tell whoever put up that cell tower to move it, please?” Wally asked our tour guide, Roxie. “It’s ruining my shot.”

My parents are always up for an adventure. Whenever they come to visit us, we find a fun day trip to take. Since they typically drive to see us and only spend a few days, the maximum distance for these excursions is about two hours away. When we visited my family in the fall, we toured Graycliff, the summer residence built for Darwin Martin’s wife Isabelle and designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. 

Next up: the Pabst Mansion in Milwaukee. Like Graycliff, it’s a historic property that had been acquired, adaptively reused and inadvertently saved by the occupation of a religious organization. Milwaukee is 92 miles, or about an hour and a half away, from Chicago, where we live, so the opportunity to tour the former home of a beer baron and his family made for an intoxicating destination. 

“The Pabst Mansion cost $254,000 in the early 1890s — a figure equivalent to about $8.4 million today. ”

A bust of the beer baron

A Brief History of the Pabst Mansion 

In 1890 Captain Johann Gottlieb Friedrich “Frederick” Pabst commissioned architects George Bowman Ferry and Alfred Charles Clas to create a 20,000-square-foot residence on what was then Grand Avenue (now Wisconsin Avenue). The home was one of the finest of the 19th century mansions built on Milwaukee’s premier residential street. 

The project was completed two years later at a cost of $254,000, which included the home, furnishings and artwork — a figure equivalent to about $8.4 million today. Pabst had 8,000 square feet of the house for himself, his wife, Maria, and the four children who survived to adulthood. The remainder was used as living quarters and service areas for the staff. The Pabsts employed up to 15 servants, who ran the day-to-day operations of the house.

The residence was modern for the time and one of the first to be wired for electricity, 10 years after this new-fangled energy source had arrived in Milwaukee. Additionally, the home boasted 10 full baths and a state-of-the-art central forced-air heating system. 

You’ll notice a theme that runs throughout the tour: elaborate decoration.

Face Value: The Exterior of the Pabst Mansion

Built in the Flemish Revival style, the mansion’s striking cream-colored brick façade features terracotta ornamentation and corbie gables, stepped triangular peaks, which reflect 17th century Northern European architectural forms. The gables have spires that were replicated and replaced as the originals had been destroyed by lightning sometime in the 20th century. 

Our gang taking a group shot in front of the landmark

Beneath the loggia and flanking the mansion’s double doors are a pair of ornate hand-forged ironwork window grilles emblazoned with the initials FP, for Frederick Pabst, of course. They feature delicate scrollwork and rosettes and were made by Austrian-born blacksmith Cyril Colnik. Captain Papst met Colnik at the 1893 Columbian Exposition in Chicago and encouraged him to come to Milwaukee. Colnik agreed, and set up a successful studio, where he worked until his retirement in 1955. Considered the “Mozart of Metal” for his skill at sculpting with iron, he achieved national fame as one of the foremost metal craftsmen of his time. 

The beautiful murals throughout the Pabst Mansion were painted over when the Catholic church took possession of the house. Thankfully, the restoration team was able to remove the offending coat of white and preserve the scenes beneath like this one.

Altar(ed) States: The Church’s Ownership — and the Battle to Save the Pabst Mansion

Following the death of their mother, Maria, in 1906, Gustave and Frederick Pabst Jr. put the palatial family home up for sale. After a couple of years had passed without any prospects, the boys sold the property to the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Milwaukee for $97,000 as a residence for the archbishop and offices. The sale included the furniture of the ladies parlor, music room and formal dining room. 

By 1974 the archdiocese had outgrown the mansion, and the last archbishop to live there, William Edward Cousins, moved out. It’s difficult to comprehend, but the mansion’s future was at risk. The property was sold to a real estate developer whose sole interest was to demolish the historic home in favor of a parking lot for his neighboring business, the Coach House Motor Inn. 

Our tour of the home was led by the fabulous Roxie.

Thanks to the advocacy of a citizens’ preservation group, Wisconsin Heritages Inc. (WHI), now known as Pabst Mansion Inc., the historic home was saved. They secured a mortgage, and in 1979 the Pabst Mansion was recognized on the National Register of Historic Places and opened for public tours shortly thereafter. As for the Coach House Motor Inn, it has since been absorbed into Marquette University and serves as Mashuda Hall, a coed residence for freshmen and sophomores. 

We were bummed we couldn’t tour the Beaux Arts Pavilion off to the side of the mansion. It’s undergoing restoration.

From Pabst to Present: The Pavilion

To start our tour, we followed our colorful and delightful guide, Roxie, from the Welcome Center next door to the front of a small structure known as the Pavilion. The elaborate Beaux Arts confection designed by Otto Strack extends to the east of the mansion and connects to the home via a covered walkway. The pavilion was originally the Pabst’s display at the 1893 Chicago Columbian Exposition. 

After the fair ended, it was dismantled and transported to Milwaukee, where it was incorporated into the beer baron’s home. Made almost entirely of terracotta, its exterior is ornamented with motifs, including steins, cherubs riding swans and figures representing the god and goddess of wheat and barley. 

The Pavilion began as the Pabst’s display at the Columbian Expo in Chicago, then became a conservatory, chapel and visitors center.

Originally, it was used by the Pabst family as a conservatory for rare and tropical plants. Every summer during the family’s occupancy, their gardener would bring one of their palm trees outside in spring and plant it in the yard, providing a bit of exotic flair. 

Shortly after the occupancy of the archdiocese, the Pavilion was converted into a private chapel for the archbishop. Stained glass windows were added as well as the cross crowning the copper-domed pavilion. 

Unfortunately, at the time of our visit, we were unable to go inside as the structure was undergoing restoration. Buildings constructed for expositions aren’t meant to weather the elements year after year (read the fascinating The Devil in the White City), so the plan is to completely dismantle and reconstruct the Pavilion.  

Off to a good start! The reception hall at the Pabst Mansion has seating, warm-toned wood and a cool antler and iron chandelier.

Making an Entrance: The Reception Hall

Our group followed Roxie through the front doors and into the reception hall of the grand home. I’d describe it as more of a room than a foyer and can only imagine how visitors felt when they arrived. Influential guests at the residence included Teddy Roosevelt before he became president of the United States, while he toured Milwaukee in one of Captain Pabst’s carriages. 

Looking up, I admired the coffered wood ceiling and wrought iron and elk antler chandelier, the focal point of the hall. Sadly, the original, which was fabricated by Colnik, had been removed and purchased by Karl Lotharius for his German tavern Von Trier before WHI had acquired the property. The group enlisted master craftsman Dan Nauman of Bighorn Forge Iron Works to reproduce the fixture and restore the exterior window grilles. A smaller, less ornate chandelier hangs in the musician’s nook. 

Note the wall covering in the reception hall — it’s a costly embossed linen imported from London known as Tynecastle canvas. 

The original art collection by Captain Pabst and Maria featured some of the best artists of the time. Notable works in the room include Halt Before a Wallachian Station, painted by Christian Adolf Schreyer, above the fireplace, and the haunting marble bust of Captain Pabst by Gaetano Trentanove, an Italian sculptor who emigrated to America for the World’s Columbian Exposition of 1893. Like Colnik, Trentanove settled in Milwaukee and opened a studio, which led to a steady stream of portrait commissions from the city’s elite. 

A nook used by musicians to play for guests during parties is situated to the back of the reception hall. It holds an elaborate Black Forest clock and an intricately hand-tooled leather chair. 

Before we proceeded, Roxie provided us with a few basics about the Pabst Mansion: The ground floor was dedicated to entertaining guests and is divided into distinct public and private areas, including the reception hall, two parlors, a formal dining room, a smoking room and Pabst’s study. 

Wally’s favorite room was the ladies’ parlor. He’d have been sneaking in there all the time.

Fit for a Queen: Maria Pabst’s Ladies’ Parlor

The first room we entered off of the reception hall was the elegant ladies’ parlor, where Maria received her society friends. It’s decorated in the Rococo Revival style and showcases gilded curvilinear plasterwork that seems to swell and bloom as if blown by gentle gusts of wind. Fuchsia silk wall panels, curtains and tufted upholstery have been reproduced using samples taken from the original chairs. 

“This feels like a room Marie Antoinette would have had at Versailles,” I whispered to Wally. 

“Yes,” he said. “Only a lot smaller.”

The bright pink floral fabric, which covers chairs and wall panels, certainly makes a statement and helps brighten the cream-colored room.

Bust of Marie Pabst Goodrich by Gaetano Trentanove

Selecting the Fabric by Frederick Solacroix

Hand-painted lilac on the ceiling medallion

While we were admiring the details, Roxie told us about the horrific modifications made while the home was occupied by the church. Most of these were made during the tenure of Archbishop Cousins, who lived in the home from 1959 to 1974. 

For starters, the ladies parlor, along with the rest of the home’s interior walls, ceilings and woodwork, were painted white. This meant covering up some beautiful murals, evoking gasps of horror by our tour group. 

Cousins also had cream-colored wall-to-wall carpeting installed in the first and second floors. 

As Roxie was telling us this, my mind couldn’t process why the archdiocese would have done this to such a magnificent home — especially considering how opulent the interiors of cathedrals can be. 

Thankfully, restoration workers found that the paint used by the church came right off, and the original murals could be preserved.  

The music room was a favorite hangout space for the family and their guests. None of the Pabsts learned to play the piano, though, strangely enough.

Perfect Pitch: The Music Room 

The Pabsts used the less formal Renaissance Revival style parlor for family use and to entertain guests. The walls feature low mahogany wainscot panels and faux ebony twisted columns. Other noteworthy items include a baby grand piano with two stools for duets and a mechanical music box. Although none of the Pabsts apparently knew how to play the piano, the couple welcomed touring performers, undoubtedly appearing at their Pabst Theater, to play for a small audience of friends. 

Their youngest daughter, Emma, married Rudolph Nunnemacher in this room in 1897. The elaborate ceremony was held under a canopy of white and gold silk with pink electric lights on a raised dais.

Fun fact: the Pabst Mansion logo was inspired by their wedding invitations, which featured hand-painted watercolor scenes taken from photographs of Rudolph’s global travels, paired with the couple’s initials. 

Touring pianists would entertain the family.

Love it! A statue of Cupid

Portrait of Captain Pabst by Charles James Fox

Another fun fact: Apparently, Captain Pabst always wanted a brown Jersey cow. (I guess that answers the query, What do you get the man who has everything?) According to a local newspaper, on Pabst’s last Christmas, in 1904, his two sons, Frederick Jr. and Gustave, surprised him by wheeling a cow into the music room. Sadly, the Captain bought the farm, so to speak, six days later, on New Year’s Eve. 

The dining table was set up for 10 but could extend to seat 22!

A Seat at the Table: The Formal Dining Room 

Roxie told us that the dining table, chairs, built-in cabinets and mirrors were all custom-made by the Milwaukee-based Matthew Brothers Manufacturing Company, one of the most prominent furniture manufacturing houses in the United States during the 19th century. When fully extended, the dining table can seat 22 people. 

She continued by sharing an interesting story about the light fixture that hangs above the table. It was considered a marvel of modern engineering at the time, as it was equipped to use gas, kerosene and electricity. 

Landscape paintings above the doors were painted over by the archdiocese but were also able to be restored.  

The formal dining room is on the first floor of the mansion.

A small pale yellow tiled conservatory is attached to the dining room.

Fun fact: The darkly humorous actor Vincent Price filmed a commercial while seated at the Pabsts’ dining room table, ready to tuck into a submarine sandwich from Cousins Subs. 

On Captain Pabst’s desk is a letter he wrote to his children telling them that a good name is more important than riches, and imploring them to be generous and honest.

Hidden Assets: Captain Pabst’s Study

The Captain’s study is the most Germanic and elaborate of the rooms: tooled leather, trophies and an ornately carved armchair with lion-headed arms. I couldn’t help but admire the room’s highly detailed walnut and oak woodwork. Roxie explained that the interiors were inspired by the 17th century German Renaissance, and an antiquing technique was used to appear older than they really are. 

Fun fact: The study contains 14 hidden compartments that are accessed by catch levers. The Captain concealed books, important documents and cigars in his humidor. 

The oil painting over the fireplace, Plowing in Saxony by Richard Lorenz, is thought to have reminded Pabst of the village where he was born. 

The elaborately carved cabinets held secret compartments.

The window features “breath of life” marks left by the glass blower.

A small secondary desk in the study

The leaded glass windows are composed of uniform panes spun into circular shapes known as rondels. Because they’re mouth-blown and produced one at a time, each disk has a slightly irregular pontil mark left behind from the detachment of the blowpipe that’s referred to as the breath of life. 

On top of the desk is a copy of a letter written by Captain Pabst in 1899 to his children. It was included with his will, and I found the following passages to be particularly moving:

“Be generous and unselfish to each other in case of need, and above all, be honest and noble in all your dealings, not only with each other, but with the World. 

I want you to always have a good name. It is better than riches, and your greatest happiness will come from the knowledge of doing right.”

The ceiling panels of the study were painted by Louis Mayer, who ingeniously used different-colored stains to emulate the appearance of inlaid wood. Be sure to look up at the wood coffered ceiling with hand-painted panels inscribed with German proverbs.

The archway under the stairs held a telephone closet.

Step Up: The Grand Staircase Hall

Pabst embraced new technology: The home had its own telephone room, which is located in a small closet beneath the grand staircase. 

My mom, who Wally and I call Mima, remarked that she thought it was where Harry Potter lived, a reference to the cupboard under the stairs where the beloved boy wizard was forced to stay with his aunt and uncle, which made Roxie laugh. 

A cattle skull detail on the landing, looking down at the first floor.

The Pabst home was filled with statues and paintings.

The finials that adorn each of the grand staircase’s nine newel posts were cleverly designed to replicate hops buds. A stained glass skylight tops the stairwell and fills it with natural light. 

The landings at Pabst Mansion served as rooms themselves. And check out the stained glass doorway to granddaughter Elspeth’s room!

The Sum of Its Arts: Second Floor Foyer 

We ascended the staircase and stopped on the second floor. This is where several of the family’s bedrooms are located.  

Roxie had mentioned earlier that Captain Pabst was a humble man who never forgot where he came from. This is evident in the artwork he and Maria collected. The painting Farewell to the Homeland by Wilhelm Koller depicts immigrants on a ship about to set sail, most likely on their way to America. A few of the subjects are looking back in despair, not knowing where they were going, while others are sharing a drink and are expressing a sense of hope. 

Emma had quite the setup, with a desk and vanity in her bedroom.

Austen-tacious: Emma’s Pabsts Regal Bedroom 

The first bedroom we toured belonged to daughter Emma, who lived in the mansion until 1897, when she married. Her room is decorated in the Regency style, which is reflected in the ormolu swag and tassel design on the fireplace mantle. The motif is repeated in the wall coverings, which were replicated for the room. If you look closely, the design depicts what appears to be swans drinking from a fountain. 

Emma’s room is the only one in the home that has all of the original bathroom fixtures and the fanciest toilet tank I’ve ever seen — it has an embossed and gilt laurel wreath and garland motif. The tub, with its oak rim, had been removed and relocated to the basement by the archdiocese. 

The Pabsts weren’t scared of mixing patterns, we’ll give them that!

Our group paused in front of a portrait of eldest daughter, Elizabeth Pabst von Ernst. Roxie told us about her tragic passing: During construction of the home, Elizabeth became ill after the birth of her daughter, Emma Marie, and died six months later from appendicitis. She was only 26 years old. Rumor has it that the Pabsts blamed her death on her husband, the German painter Otto von Ernst. 

Roxie went on to tell us that the Pabsts approached their son-in-law to discuss Emma Marie, their granddaughter: “Look, we would like to adopt her,” they said. “We feel that we can provide her with a better life and would like to make sure that she receives the inheritance that her mother would have gotten.” Otto agreed. Captain Pabst gave him $10,000, told him to leave, and he did. After the proceedings had taken place, her name was changed from Emma Marie to Elsbeth in remembrance of her mother, Elizabeth. 

It seems a bit strange to have a large portrait of yourself as a focal point in your bedroom, but hey. That’s a painting of Elsbeth Pabst by Caesar Phillip in the young girl’s bedroom.

True Blue: Elsbeth’s Room

Elsbeth was the only small child to grow up in the Pabst Mansion, and she was spoiled accordingly — she was given the most elaborately decorated room in the home. It’s richly ornamented in Rococo style and includes carved pilasters, silk wall coverings and a Venetian glass chandelier. Her room was further enhanced with a fine hand-painted frieze of floral wreaths and ribbons.

Roxie tells our group about Elspeth, whose father was paid off so she could live in the Pabst Mansion.

Fun fact: During restoration of the bathroom, Dave Strickland, the owner of Affiliated Artists, removed 11 layers of paint and made the discovery that the walls had originally been painted a light blue. While that color is now paired with baby boys, it used to be the opposite: Blue was for girls, and, believe it or not, pink was for boys.  

That’s a portrait of Maria Pabst above the fireplace in her sitting room.

A Cozy Retreat: Maria’s Sitting Room 

Maria’s sitting room is more casual than the opulent bedrooms of Emma and Elsbeth. With its floral wallpaper, cherry woodwork and comfortable furniture, it provided a retreat where the lady of the house could read and attend to her correspondence. 

The raised platform was where Maria would try on dresses — and do needlepoint when she had insomnia.

Roxie informed us that Mrs. Pabst suffered from insomnia. Unlike Wally, who conks immediately after putting on an audiobook, Maria would often get up in the middle of the night and come into the sitting room to do needlepoint. 

The sitting room for Captain Pabst is, honestly, pretty unimpressive compared to the other family members’.

Separate Beds: The Master Bedroom 

Roxie pointed out that the master bedroom had two double beds on either side of the room. This prompted the following conversation:

Wally: So they slept in separate beds?

Roxie: But you know they got together sometime, right?

Wally: Well, they did have 10 kids!

A curious piece of art now hangs in the room that was taken from the brewery office of Captain Pabst. The painting features children as the main subjects and is titled The Art of Brewing by Hermann Michalowski. In it, alarmingly young kids are shown drinking beer. Roxie explained to us that the artist’s intent was to depict the purity of the product, and of course children are traditionally viewed as good and kind. 

Be sure to check out The Art of Brewing by Hermann Michalowski to see depictions of toddlers boozin’ it up.

Why was Erik Heyl, Lisette’s grandson, painted wearing a dress? Roxie told us that it made it easier for kids to go to the bathroom before they were potty trained. 

Fun fact: Marie’s steamer trunk was returned to the Pabst Mansion after it was picked up from a collector who found it sitting on the curb outside of the private men’s hangout, the Milwaukee Club. The institution had been decluttering and was unaware that the unassuming trunk belonged to the famous beer baron’s wife. It’s marked MP on the top and M. Pabst on the bottom. 

The third floor landing

Troubles of the Pabst

At this point, Roxie pointed out that every family has problems, and for Captain and Mrs. Pabst, one was their eldest son, Gustave. In the summer of 1892, he met the freshly divorced Shakespearian actress Margret Mather. The pair fell madly in love and eloped. It wasn’t long before Captain and Mrs. Pabst found out, and they were not pleased. 

Three years later, the couple was seen arguing. A piece circulated in the national news reporting that Margret chased after and struck Gustave with a horsewhip. Although both parties denied this publicly, their marriage ended shortly thereafter. At the time, it was the largest divorce settlement in Wisconsin: Margret received $30,000 from Captain Pabst to not contest the suit. She took the money, and in 1898 she staged her theatrical comeback in a production of Cybelline, collapsed onstage in the middle of a performance and died later that evening. 

The servants had a tiny table — but they had some pretty Delft tiles to admire.

Rewarding Hard Work: The Servants Dining Room

The final room on the tour was the servants dining room. A mutual respect existed between Captain Pabst and his staff, which is reflected in the servants quarters. Their dining room includes hand-painted delft tile featuring idyllic scenes. The stenciled frieze along the top of the wall mimics the motif of the three tulips in the tile work. 

The Captain was known for his work ethic — evident in the motivational saying in a stained glass window here: Guter Mut ist halbe Arbeit (A good attitude is half the work).

A vignette in the kitchen

Saving Grace: Reacquiring Furnishings 

Thanks to a number of donors, the museum has managed to reacquire many of the original furnishings, artwork, glassware and ephemera that were part of the Pabst family’s personal effects. 

Early on, the WHI negotiated with the Archdiocese of Milwaukee to purchase three rooms of furniture that originally filled the principal rooms on the first floor. Many of these pieces were slated to be auctioned off and were saved by supporters, who aided by purchasing one chair or table at a time. 

Over the years, many more original items have been returned, helping in the effort to restore the home to its original state. 

Adult tickets are $12, and docent-led tours are about 75 minutes long. I encourage anyone with an interest in a glimpse into a bygone era, architecture, art or learning more about the Pabst legacy to visit. Help preserve an impressive landmark building. –Duke

The Pabst Mansion

2000 West Wisconsin Avenue 
Milwaukee, Wisconsin
USA

 

A Guide to Visiting Hierve el Agua: Oaxaca’s Stunning Petrified Waterfalls

Calling all nature lovers! Tips to experience the magic of these breathtaking mineral springs — a mysterious example of Mexico’s natural beauty.  

If you’re in the Oaxaca area, we definitely recommend a day trip to Hierve el Agua.

I’ll admit it. After speaking with a friend who had recently been to Oaxaca, I was initially reluctant about visiting Hierve el Agua, the calcified waterfalls and spring-fed mineral water pools outside of the city of Oaxaca de Juárez. I told Wally, “It’s going to take us a couple hours to get there, and it might be too crowded.” Plus, after scrolling through dozens of images on Instagram, it seemed like the main purpose of the site was to provide opportunities to take aspirational selfies of the infinity pool overlooking the mountains and reflecting a bright blue sky. I was wrong. 

Natural springs form a sort of infinity pool perched at the edge of a cliff, looking out over the Sierra Madre mountains.

Our friend Kevin, who lives in Oaxaca, said it was one of his favorite places to watch the sun set and insisted we had to see it. Wally pleaded. I was convinced — especially after I insisted we make it a day trip and visit the Iglesia de San Jerónimo Tlacochahuaya and the legendary candlemaker at Casa Viviana en route.

“Calcium has left behind a suspended mineral formation that looks like a frozen waterfall. ”

You’d better hurry up and get to Hierve el Agua while there are still entrance passes left!

Hierve el Agua: Almost Closed for Good

The popular geologic wonder is located in the town of San Isidro Roaguía, in the municipality of San Lorenzo Albarradas, about 42 miles, or a two-hour drive  southwest of Oaxaca de Juárez. In English, Hierve el Agua means  “Boil the Water.” Don’t let the name fool you, though: This refers to the oxygenated spring water that naturally bubbles up out of the ground from an aquifer — not the temperature of the pools, which is around 72°. 

Wally and Duke hiked down to the lookout, with the calcified waterfall in the background.

Despite its name, which translates to “Boil the Water,” these aren’t hot springs.

Pro tip for getting there: Check if the roads are open. In April 2020, residents of the municipality of San Lorenzo Albarradas, which encompasses the rugged mountainous region where Hierve el Agua is situated, blocked off one of the roads leading to the popular attraction. The abbreviated version as to why was twofold: to curb the spread of COVID, and to manage the influx of visitors. Pre-pandemic numbers fluctuated between 2,500 to 7,000 visitors per day, which, with high traffic and the ensuing garbage, was having a negative impact on the environment. There was even talk that Hierve el Agua would remain closed.

Thankfully, the natural wonder has reopened, with new rules to prevent overcrowding; the number of visitors per day has been reduced to 200, and entrance fees have been put in place to help maintain the monument and surrounding grounds. 

Our friend Kevin says hello to a dog in the stretch of market stalls leading to the attraction.

The Market and Approach to Hierve el Agua

Our group of four reached our destination in the late afternoon and parked our rental car. We didn’t know about the visitor cap and were fortunate enough to gain admission. What a disappointment it would have been to drive all the way out there, only to be turned away! So, even though Kevin loves to watch the sun set in the mountains, it’s probably best to arrive earlier than later in the day.

We passed stalls selling packaged snacks, water, soft drinks, beer, micheladas and piña loca, a mezcal-based cocktail served in a hollowed-out pineapple, with additional chunks of the fruit drizzled with bright red chamoy sauce and sprinkled with a healthy dose of chile con limón seasoning. 

Giddy up! A vaquero, or cowboy, rides down the trail to the springs.

The walking trail that leads to the main area where the pools are was a bit steep but offered sweeping panoramic views of the Sierra Madre del Sur mountain range and the outlying valley, which was occasionally interrupted by monstrously tall flowering agave stalks. I was grateful that I brought my Teva sandals, which have great support and traction — I couldn’t imagine attempting to traverse the path in flip-flops.  

There are a few different pools to explore at Hierve el Agua.

Elevated Expectations: Petrified Waterfalls and Mineral Springs

Locals revere the waters for their sacred healing properties. And while the basins are man-made, the underground spring that feeds them is natural. Because the pools are full of mineral-rich deposits of calcium carbonate, magnesium and sulfur, they had a yellowish hue. 

The pools are refreshing — with the water temp being about 70º.

Although it was spring, it was still quite hot. Be advised that you’ll be exposed to direct sunlight since there really isn’t any shade on the plateau. Also, be sure to stay hydrated; at 5,000 feet above sea level, it’s one of the highest elevation points in Oaxaca state, and your body loses water through respiration at high altitude twice as fast as it does at sea level. 

The rock formations by the mineral springs resembled a lunar landscape.

The leafless gnarled tree at the edge of the main pool surrendered long ago. But it has become iconic of Hierve el Agua, so it pissed us off to see a visitor had hung their bag from one of its twisted branches. 

The famous dead tree at the edge of one of the pools

Kevin and his amigo David decided to hang back and relax, but Wally and I wanted to check out the trail that leads to the larger of the two petrified “waterfalls” to get a closer look. The hike itself is 1.6 miles long, with an elevation change of 623 feet. You’ll find a couple of benches and a covered pavilion at the top of the trail to relax and hydrate after you’ve completed the trek. 

Take a break from mezcal and folk art and admire the natural wonder of Hierve el Agua.

The surrounding landscape and foliage is also impressive.

Hierve el Agua is a picture-perfect way to spend an afternoon.

There are two petrified waterfalls at Hierve el Agua. Rising up from near-vertical cliffs, there’s the 98-foot, nine-story-high Cascada Grande and the smaller 39-foot, four-story-high Cascada Chica. These formations are the result of mineral-rich spring water that has trickled over the cliff face for thousands of years. It’s similar to the way that a candle drips wax down the side of a bottle while melting. As a result, the calcium has left behind a suspended mineral formation that looks like a frozen waterfall. 

La Cascada Grande is nine stories tall!

After our hike, Wally and I took a plunge to cool off, which felt great after being exposed to the sweltering Oaxacan sun. 

Wally and Duke cool off after their hike.

We packed up and headed back to the car. As the sun began to set, Kevin stopped the car so we could get out and take one last look at this stunning landscape. We gazed out over the mountains, and I reflected on the pleasant day, grateful for having experienced the geological marvel in person, and for having spent it among friends. –Duke

If you can, time your trip to catch a gorgeous sunset in the mountains on your way home.

The Lowdown 

Hours: 7 a.m. to 5 p.m.

Parking: 100 pesos ($5)

Admission: 50 pesos ($2.50) per person

Bring: Sunscreen, footwear that can get wet and has good traction, and bottled water (though you can buy drinks and snacks at the market)

 

West Rose: Ellicottville, New York’s Chicest Spot

The buzzy and Instagrammable West Rose restaurant in Eville is more than just a pretty face. Known for their wood-fired pizza, you should also check out the noodle shop upstairs.

West Rose, famous for its wood-fired pizzas and stylish aesthetic, has definitely taken Ellicottville’s food scene up a notch.

When Wally and I visit my family in the charming Western New York burg of Ellicottville, we always make it a point to wander Washington Street, the main thoroughfare of shops and restaurants. We’ve watched its evolution over the years and couldn’t help but notice the newish standout restaurant West Rose. 

Our visits tend to be short, so we weren’t able to check it out until this past fall. When we mentioned wanting to make sure we finally got to experience West Rose for ourselves, my sister suggested that Wally and I go for brunch. She had us at “breakfast pizza.”

“My sister suggested we go to West Rose for brunch.
She had us at “breakfast pizza.”
”

It was a Sunday and we had made reservations for 10 a.m., in hopes of beating the brunch rush. When we arrived, the front bar was already hopping with families.  

The front bar provides additional seating.

A (West) Rose by Any Other Name 

Something Wally and I noticed before even stepping foot into the restaurant was their strong brand identity. The subdued color palette uses dusty rose, gold, gray-green and yellow-ochre to great effect throughout. Upon entering the bright, airy space I admired the stylized brushed brass rose inlay in the white and gray marble tiled floor. 

A nice detail on the floor by the entrance

Wally suddenly thought he had a eureka moment: “West Rose! Westeros!” he exclaimed, alluding to the fictitious continent in the popular series Game of Thrones. 

However, we later learned from co-owner Caryn Dujanovich that it doesn’t have any connection to GoT, and is in fact a nod to where it’s located: Western New York, combined with her daughter's name, Louise Rose. And you’ve gotta admit, it’s got a nice ring to it. 

Three years into running the Grange Community Kitchen, a restaurant in nearby Hamburg, Brad Rowell and his business partner Caryn were approached by a couple of regular guests from Ellicottville who incidentally own the building that West Rose inhabits — and, as they say, the rest is history. 

“We had a great staff at the Grange and felt confident that we would be able to maintain the same level of quality there while offering some employees opportunities to advance in the company,” Caryn explains. “We were able to make our Grange sous chef, Anthony Petrilli, a partner in West Rose. He creates the menus and runs the kitchen.”

The interior is chic and clean — mostly white and light wood, with pops of the brand’s colors.

The Design: Getting Hygge With It 

The vision for the restaurant’s interior aesthetic was led by Caryn and embodies a cozy Scandinavian vibe, which suits the charming town of Ellicottville. Eville, as it’s affectionately known among locals, started as a ski town but has become an all-season destination with a variety of outdoor activities, including hiking, golf, horseback riding and Sky High Adventure Park, the largest zipline and aerial course in New York state.

Wally’s glad his in-laws live in such a charming, quirky town. (He’s says it reminds him of Stars Hollow from Gilmore Girls.)

Time-worn details like the exposed ceiling, wood floors and brick walls are complemented by industrial and natural textures. Elements such as brushed brass, cognac-colored leather, marble and white plaster, pair seamlessly with yam-colored velvet, terrazzo and beechwood. 

“We wanted the space to have a warm interior with a focus on texture,” Caryn says. “We are always mindful of making sure we won’t get sick of the design in five years!”

Hand-painted murals by Julie Molloy, art director at Block Club, the Buffalo-based agency behind the branding and identity of West Rose, enlivens the second floor space. 

We stopped in for brunch and had the breakfast pizza, topped with bacon, egg, cheddar cheese, scallions and chili-infused maple syrup.

The Food: American Cuisine Elevated 

The menu changes regularly to reflect the freshest available ingredients from local producers and farms.  

“After considering seasonality, we then decide what dishes fit the vibe and theme of the restaurant,” Caryn tells us. 

You’ll find items like cheeseburgers, cioppino, kale Caesar salads and crispy chicken on the menu — but the wood-fired pizzas are the star of the show. 

The restaurant’s use of geometric shapes and a captivating color palette instantly drew our attention.

Wally and I  were seated across from the kitchen bar, which is perhaps the most special part of the restaurant, as it features a wood-fired oven imported from Naples, Italy. We had quite the show: I tried unsuccessfully to capture a chef expertly tossing and spinning pizza dough. 

We ordered and shared a savory breakfast pizza topped with bacon, egg, cheddar cheese, scallions and chili-infused maple syrup — washed down with a couple of spicy Bloody Marys, of course. 

West Rose Upstairs has become a noodle shop and cocktail bar.

Using Their Noodles

Be sure to check out the second floor of the restaurant, which features a lounge and ramen bar. 

“The noodle bar concept was actually not what we originally had in mind for that space!” Caryn explains. “That area of the building was left unfinished when the restaurant was first built, and after two years, we decided it would be a good time to make use of the space.” 

The original plan was to offer an easy-to-execute menu of upscale bar food items, including fancy hot dogs, focaccia pizza and cheese plates. 

“Our chef and manager Mark decided to try something different and made a drunken noodle bowl to put on the menu,” Caryn continues. “This became by far our most popular item, and since Mark is a talented chef, who is able to create and execute a full noodle bar concept, we decided to go in a new direction!”

If noodles aren’t your thing, though, you can order snacks such as smoked spiced Marcona almonds, housemade focaccia or marinated olives. 

Both spaces are open for dinner Thursday through Sunday, and brunch on weekends. 

“The best part of running a restaurant is working with our team to create memorable experiences for our guests on a nightly basis,” Caryn says. 

If you’re in Eville, stop in and see for yourself. 

And be sure to check out their newest project, Wayland Brewing Company in Orchard Park. –Duke

West Rose

23 Washington Street
Ellicottville, New York 

 

Fábrica la Aurora: Textile Factory Turned Art and Design Center

A popular stop in San Miguel de Allende, the Fábrica la Aurora spins a new yarn as a complex filled with antique shops, galleries, artist studios and restaurants. 

La Fábrica la Aurora, an old textile factory, is a winding complex filled with art of all sorts.

San Miguel de Allende is a town with art in its DNA. There are galleries galore and shops full of colorful folk art. But we knew that one of the places we had to add to our itinerary was the Fábrica la Aurora. It just sounded so interesting: It’s a former textile mill that has been converted into a vibrant arts center. A remnant of Mexico’s industrial era, the factory was built at the turn of the 20th century and featured the best technology of the time. The complex operated for nearly 90 years producing percale (a fabric often used for bedsheets), muslin and flannel, before closing for good in 1991 — that is, until it was reimagined as an arts center in 2004.

We took one look at the mask wall at the front of Casa Michoacana and knew we had to go in.

Walk This Way: Shopping Stops on the Way to Fábrica la Aurora 

Whenever we can, we walk on foot in the cities we stay, and I’m especially glad we did so in SMA — otherwise we might have missed Casa Michoacana, an incredible shop filled with folk art that we passed on the way to the Fábrica. Many of the items here are made by artists from the state of Michoacán but also include a few from other regions of the country, too. You will find a collection of ceramic piñas of all sizes, multi-tiered candelabras, innumerable masks, wood carvings and more. The staff was patient and informative, and it was here that we found a variety of changos, black clay vessels used for storing mezcal in the shape of a monkey, and purchased one.

The owners also run the sister shop with the same name, a bit farther down, on the opposite side of the street. Look for the sign with two hands and an archway decorated with handpainted flowers.

“The renovation retains the building’s industrial character, with open spaces, concrete floors, high ceilings, steel casement windows, exposed pipes and more than a few industrial artifacts, including massive mechanical looms.”

We wanted to get this alebrije — but there’s only so much space in our home.

We did, though, find room to bring back a chango mezcalero!

As we walked along Calzada de la Aurora and crossed a puente (bridge), we paused to admire a carved Colonial-era Cantera stone cross. The crucifix features an INRI plaque at the top and so-called Arma Christi (Weapons of Christ), including glyphs of Christ’s face, a nail and a ladder — items linked with Christ’s crucifixion. 

If you walk to La Aurora, you’ll cross a bridge with this cross. It depicts the Arma Christi, the collection of artifacts related to the Passion of Christ.

Here’s your sign (literally) that you’ve arrived at La Fábrica la Aurora.

Art Park in front of La Fábrica la Aurora

Just a few minutes later, we passed an oxidized Cubist sculpture of four converging figures and a sign marking the entrance to Fábrica la Aurora. The park-like grounds contain additional sculptures, including Oso Grizzly by Francisco Esnayra, a striking work of art composed of a series of metal bands in the shape of a bear. It majestically stands in place on a patch of mulch amongst the trees, while the sculpture Looking for Balance by Rodrigo de la Sierra features a trio of his childlike Timoteo characters precariously balancing on an unsupported ladder. 

Oso Grizzly by Francisco Esnayra

Looking for Balance by Rodrigo de la Sierra

La Aurora’s historic façade includes its central archway with metal lettering and wrought iron gate.

The Dawn of a New Fold as an Art Makers Outpost

Most of the original structure of La Fábrica remains intact. Its brick façade is punctuated by Cantera stone arches, made from quarried volcanic rock. Its central entrance has a wrought iron gate and metal lettering spelling out “La Aurora” above. The arts and design center was founded by a quintet of creative forces: Francisco Garay, Christopher Fallon, Mary Rapp, Merry Calderoni and DeWayne Youts. In addition to showcasing local and expat artists’ works, there are also places to eat. A burger joint named El Grandpa & Son occupies one side of the front and can be seen through the aforementioned arches. There’s also a café called Geek & Coffee tucked away somewhere. We didn’t happen to stumble upon it during our visit — the complex is quite large and meandering. 

The front courtyard before you enter the sizable complex filled with galleries and studios.

The renovation retains the building’s industrial character, with open spaces, concrete floors, high ceilings, steel casement windows, exposed pipes and more than a few industrial artifacts, including massive mechanical looms that were used for the production of cloth from cotton. 

An industrial Zinser loom tucked among one of the galleries at La Fábrica la Aurora

Wandering the Maze of Fábrica la Aurora

The first shop we stopped into was Cantadora Antigüedades, which specializes in arte popular and ephemera from the 16th to 19th centuries. A figure depicting Jesus riding a donkey, possibly used during Easter week processions, stands outside the store entrance. 

By this time, Wally and I were both craving a snack, and the relaxed and casual open-air Café de la Aurora was the perfect spot. I tried a mango smoothie that incorporated a large dose of ruby red chamoy sauce, which was refreshing. If I had to describe the flavor, I would say that it was simultaneously sweet, spicy and tangy — the chile on the glass rim was a nice touch. What’s chamoy, you ask? The popular condiment is a combination of dried chiles, mangoes, apricots or plums and lime juice that’s added to flavor hard candy as well as drizzled on fruit. 

Just beyond the café, were the cutest vistas of potted plants arranged along the old factory wall.

Lotería imagery decorates this wall at La Fábrica la Aurora.

Can you see why Wally was obsessed with these vignettes?

One shop in the Fábrica, La Buhardilla, purchased a trove of items in 2004, including letters, sketches, paintings and clothing from an eccentric lawyer in Mexico City that were alleged to have once belonged to the surrealist Mexican artist Frida Kahlo. 

These artifacts are well-documented in the fascinating book Finding Frida Kahlo. The personal effects were said to have been originally acquired from Abraham Jiménez Lopez, a woodcarver who received them in lieu of payment for frames he had made for Kahlo. While many experts question their authenticity and say that the objects are fake, I’d like to believe that at least some of them are real. 

This kitty seemed to share our taste in art.

A modern-feeling wing of art galleries toward the back of La Fábrica

After resting and refueling, we ventured into another annex, where we saw a small black and white cat slinking through one of the galleries. We wandered into Manuk Galeria, which was founded by Mexican artist Lourdes Rivera. I suspect we were drawn to this gallery in particular because of its well-curated assortment of contemporary and folk art-inspired pieces.

Artwork on display at Manuk Galeria at the back portion of La Fábrica

While there, the compelling work titled Neblina (Fog), by self-taught artist Erik García Gómez, caught my eye. The painting features a stylized animal (pig? dog?) and spotted albino snakes. According to the artist’s bio, his main source of inspiration comes from the town he grew up in, San Cristóbal de las Casas, and memories of his grandmother, who was a village healer. 

Neblina by Erik García Gómez

A menagerie of heads from a sculpture workshop led by Juan Luis Potosí

The whimsical Travesías sin Rumba by Ernesto de la Peña Folch sits atop a pedestal outside CSEIS gallery. 

Italian for “the Spice,” Le Spezie lives up to its name — the spice of life, that is. This design shop features a mix of handicrafts from Mexico and other regions of the world. Colorful metal roosters, distressed painted furniture, sofas and accent cushions upholstered in colorful fabrics are all for sale here. Also of note is a range of industrial and hammered copper lighting fixtures. I especially liked the painted wood Kamadhenu, the wish-fulfilling Hindu cow goddess, sitting atop one of the cabinets. 

What’s not to love? The Kamadhenu is part woman, part cow, with the wings of an eagle and the tail of a peacock.

The last space Wally and I walked through was Rise, a store featuring the works of Argentine graphic designer Lucas Rise and a clothing line created by his wife and business partner, Giuliana Vastarella. Rendered in jewel-tone hues, his works have been digitally printed onto textiles, with a few resembling kaleidoscopic Rorschach tests. Rise works in a nontraditional manner by using cabinets as his canvas, combining geometric forms, each meticulously painted by hand. 

A steampunk-looking apparatus with oversized gears, a remnant of the textile factory, shares a space with Rise. 

Over the years, La Fábrica has expanded its galleries and studios as places where both national and international artists can create and sell their work. It’s a short distance from the historic center of San Miguel de Allende, and if you’re like the two of us, you can easily spend a fun afternoon going from one gallery to the next. –Duke

A statue of a rearing horse stands in the parking lot of the arts center.

Fábrica la Aurora

Calzada de la Aurora s/n
San Miguel de Allende
Guanajuato
Mexico 

 

Magical Mystery Tour of the Chapel of Jimmy Ray

A glimpse into the glittering and colorful legacy of the self-taught expat artist Anado McLauchlin at his house outside of San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. 

There’s no denying that a visit to the Chapel of Jimmy Ray will be a unique experience.

When planning a trip, Wally and I seek out quirky sites that are in close proximity to where we’re visiting. That’s how I first came across the Chapel of Jimmy Ray on Atlas Obscura — followed by an intensive image search on Instagram. I shared the fantastical artwork with Wally but was getting worried our itinerary was filling up. He said we’d make the time. 

And, really, how could we pass up such a weird and wonderful attraction during our stay in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico?!

Don’t go expecting to see a chapel, FYI. It’s actually a 2.5-acre complex literally filled with the unusual art of the late Anado McLauchlin. 

The Casa de las Ranas might be too crazy for other people, but Wally and Duke would be more than happy to call it their home.

Since it isn’t exactly easy to find, we hired a driver to take us there. The mosaic wonderland is located at the end of an unpaved dead-end road in La Cieneguita, a small town about 30 minutes from San Miguel de Allende. Our hotel arranged the ride, but when the driver doubled the price on us, we sent him packing — a move we’d later come to regret. 

Upon our arrival, Wally and I were welcomed by trusted artistic assistant Carlos Ramírez Galvan. We met up with another couple and were greeted by a tall bespeckled man with an impressive long white beard, wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat. This was Anado’s husband, Richard Schultz, and not unlike a mystical shaman, he was adorned with baubles and charms. Wally thought he looked like the poet Walt Whitman.

Richard leads the tour, which starts at the memorial for his late hubby.

Life’s Rich Tapestry: Anado’s Memorial

We were about 10 minutes late and the tour had already started, so be sure to get there a bit early. 

It started off at Anado’s memorial, which includes a 50-year-old olive tree that he and Richard purchased and planted when Anado was diagnosed with colon cancer. The design and theme was originally proposed for the chapel at the Puerto Vallarta Botanical Garden. However, the garden didn’t have enough money to fund it, Richard told us. 

So, Anado decided to use it as his memorial. The assemblage depicts two Trees of Life and portraits of Anado and Richard in profile. Between them is a blue glass heart and above them are a pair of colibríes (hummingbirds), which are considered sacred to many Mesoamerican cultures. 

A lovely mosaic of the lovebirds

Many of the small pieces of tile used in the construction of the mural come from Dolores Hidalgo. The nearby village is known for the production of brightly colored tin-enameled Talavera tiles — and for Father Miguel Hidalgo, who, on September 16, 1810, rang the church bells from his parish and set the Mexican Independence movement in motion. 

Additional tiles were sourced from Cuernavaca, Morelos. These arrive in ¾-inch squares and need to be cut by hand using a tile nipper, which allows the artists to break off small pieces of the material in a controlled fashion.

To the right of the memorial is a likeness of the Aztec god Xochipilli, (pronounced So-chee-pee-lee). Xochipilli was a benevolent god, a gender-fluid combination of both male and female traits. His name contains the Nahuatl words meaning Flower Prince. He was the god of art — as well as male sex workers. 

Richard pointed out how other indigenous societies like the Lakota Sioux have third-sex individuals who identify as two-spirit and hold sacred roles as teachers, healers and keepers of traditional knowledge among their tribes. Even the Zapotec muxes (mu-shay), who are born male at birth but assume matriarchal roles and female dress, are celebrated in parts of Mexico. 

“Usually, they get stomped out any time religion’s involved, whether it’s Evangelical, Catholic or Muslim,” Richard said. “Being two-spirit doesn’t mean they’re gay, or trans — they’re simply two spirits in one person.”

Anado referred to this as the Arch to Nowhere because at the time there was nothing built beyond it. Now it leads to the gallery (and outhouse).

Anado’s fascination with world religions, especially those honoring the pre-Columbian pantheon, can be found throughout the grounds. There’s a small colorful shrine embellished with pieces of mirror and tile that pays homage to the Virgin of Guadalupe, the venerated patroness of Mexico.

Anado and Richard met the old-fashioned way: in an AOL chat room.

Picking Up the Pieces: Anado’s Fractured Life

Central to the complex is the namesake Jimmy Ray, a mosaic rendering Anado created in honor of his father, with whom he had a troubled relationship. Anado’s given name at birth was James Rayburn McLaughlin III, and his father was James Rayburn McLaughlin Jr. Anado’s father was a doctor and a scoundrel who always had a mistress. He had two sons outside his marriage and died in a plane crash returning from the Caribbean with one of his mistresses. 

“Anado’s mother learned of her husband’s death while watching the local news on TV,” Richard told us. “In life, there was always anger towards his father because the whole family knew what was going on.”

This mosaic is of Anado’s philandering father, the Jimmy Ray the chapel is named for.

One of the reasons Anado named his compound the Chapel of Jimmy Ray (his father’s nickname), was partly as a healing process, to recognize and forgive his dad for being a flawed human being, and to stop internalizing everything his father had done.

Anado was born in Oklahoma City on May 24, 1947. At the age of 20, he was drafted into the Navy during the Vietnam War. As fate would have it, he was stationed in San Francisco. A self-proclaimed product of the Summer of Love, he visited the bohemian Haight-Ashbury neighborhood every chance he could to participate in the crosscurrents of creative expression and social tolerance among the hippies. 

Once Anado got out of the Navy, he returned to Oklahoma City and opened the only head shop in town and was arrested for selling Zap Comix, which local authorities considered to be part of the counterculture movement.

Shortly thereafter, Anado enrolled at the School of Visual Arts in Norman, Oklahoma, where he intended to pursue a career in art. However, he was frustrated by his professors, who told him that his works were “too decorative.”

Screw you, School of Visual Arts in Oklahoma! We think Anado’s work, like this take on a Catrina, is pretty rad.

He left Oklahoma and moved to New York City, where he lived for about 10 years and became a performance artist. Anado made most of his money driving a taxi and was part of the Chelsea Hotel crowd, performing with the likes of Patti Smith and Lou Reed. 

Before meeting Richard, Anado was part of the Rajneeshpuram, the sex-forward cult featured in the documentary Wild, Wild Country.

By the late ’70s, friends were committing suicide and overdosing on drugs. So Anado made the decision to travel to India and join the ashram led by the sex guru Osho Rajneesh. He was rechristened Anand Anado, which means “Blissful Silence” in Sanskrit. Rajneesh relocated to the U.S., founding a controversial community in Oregon, and Anado followed him there.

If you’ve heard about Rajneesh, it’s probably because of the 2018 Netflix documentary Wild, Wild Country. When we asked about this, Richard said Anado wouldn’t watch it because he didn’t share the views of the people who were interviewed from the commune (or, as many would call it, cult). “He felt that they didn’t represent what the everyday person was doing there and that they were part of the problem,” Richard explained.

Anado left the commune and relocated to California. In 1998, he met Richard in an AOL chat room. Richard was a former art history teacher residing in Noe Valley, a neighborhood in San Francisco, and Anado was living in Lagunitas. Suffice to say, sparks flew and Richard eventually became Anado’s husband and muse.

Richard and Anado moved to Mexico and built their colorful home together. Sadly, Anado died of colon cancer in 2021.

A couple of years later, Anado and Richard visited San Miguel for a few days. They returned in 2001 to look for a place to retire and saw a listing in the local newspaper. The property was in poor condition and had been on the market for a while. The price was right: “You have to pay cash when you buy property in Mexico,” Richard explained, “and it was within our budget.”

Anado died of colon cancer in 2021.

The Gallery at the Chapel of Jimmy Ray is itself a work of art.

Memory Box: the Chapel of Jimmy Ray Gallery

Our group followed Richard down a curved staircase flanked with mosaic-covered snakes.

The metaphorical focal point of the property is the Chapel of Jimmy Ray Gallery, a space that showcases an eclectic mix of Anado’s work as well as rotating exhibitions by guest artists who are friends of Anado and Richard. Its exterior features a subversive fountain with an anatomically correct luchador who perpetually “pees” into its basin. 

This fountain outside the gallery is fed by water coming out of the luchador’s bright red penis.

Standing outside of the gallery is quite possibly the most beautiful outhouse ever built. It’s a rounded and thoroughly embellished structure with glass bottles embedded into its terracotta-hued mortar walls, multicolored snake door handles, shiny glass spheres and an Indian chief finial. Anado cheekily referred to it as the Caca Mahal (a play of the Taj Mahal with the Spanish word for poop). It’s a waterless toilet that uses evaporation and decomposition to compost human waste. 

What a throne room! This could very well be the coolest outhouse ever.

We caught the tail end of a show that featured the works of three female artists: Meryl Truett, Ann Chamberlin and Leigh Hyams. We ended up purchasing a piece by Chamberlin of a group of dazed-looking men hiding out in trees called Men in the Fresh Air. Her expressive works are inspired by traditional hand-painted devotional images known as retablos. 

We especially loved the work of Ann Chamberlin, including We Are Angry 2022, featuring multiple women with blunt bob haircuts, wearing sleeveless canary yellow dresses — and all wielding machetes!

A cool side room has a shrine of sorts to Anado

One of Anado’s works is a monumental skull covered in mosaic tiles and cobalt blue bottles titled Time Is Not the Enemy — note the clocks placed in the eye sockets.

On either side of the gallery space are a pair of Día de los Muertos sculptures, a giant bejeweled calaca (skull) and a take on a Catrina. 

A secondary outbuilding, named Casa Kali, showcases some of Anado’s early works, as well as those of his assistant, Carlos.

Destiny Calling: Casa Kali and Coltrane

The first outbuilding Anado and Richard added to the grounds was dubbed Casa Kali and was built as an office. It now holds many of Anado’s early sculptural creations as well as those of his assistant Carlos. 

A gnarled creation by Carlos was one of our favorites and was adorned with a multicolored headscarf and cowrie shell necklaces and held a menacingly large scythe.

This giant, grumpy-looking wood sculpture was made by Carlos’ kids. They named him Coltrane.

As we wandered toward the main house, we passed a monumental effigy head nicknamed Coltrane. It was made from twigs and branches by Carlos’ kids one summer. Wally asked if he was constantly being added to, and without missing a beat, Richard replied, “Or being put back together.”  

One section honors the couple’s kitties who have gone on the Great Litterbox in the Sky. Another mosaic honors their dead doggies.

Good Fortune: Tarot and Other Murals of Kismet Street

An outer wall is covered by an elaborate large-scale mosaic installation called Kismet Street. The name came from a vivid dream Anado had while living in the East Village in the ’70s and features a series of vignettes that took years to complete. 

The politically charged Big Hands features two outward-facing palms. The left hand with blue eye and brick wall represents the United States, while the right-facing green hand with brown eye represents Mexico. The inspiration for the piece was a quote attributed to the Mexican President Porfifro Díaz: “So far from God, so close to the U.S.”

One half of Big Hands, with skulls and a nod to a brick wall to symbolize the United States.

We stopped to smile over yet another unusual aspect of the wall. “We were given a Tyrannosaurus Rex head,” Richard said. “Anado combined it with a platter and turned it into Quetzalcoatl, the plumed serpent.” 

Only Anado could take a T. rex head and platter and turn it into the snake god Quetzalcoatl.

A recurring theme that can be seen throughout the estate in Anado’s art is snakes. Richard explained that snakes are sacred animals to many indigenous cultures around the world, from Asia and the Americas. They’re close to the earth and are often associated with wisdom, healing and knowledge. The Judeo-Christian tradition, of course, had to demonize them (think of the serpent in the Garden of Eden).

Xoloitzcuintli dogs are said to shepherd the souls of the dead, which could explain why Anado chose one for the mural honoring his deceased friend David Wojnarowicz.

Another mural on Kismet Street is of a hairless Xoloitzcuintli dog, and was made by Anado in memory of his former roommate, David Wojnarowicz. David was an activist and mixed-media artist in New York, who died from AIDS-related complications in 1992. Early in his career, he was part of the street art culture and created Mayan dog graffiti around the East Village where he lived. In Mesoamerican religious lore, the Xoloitzcuintli leads the soul through the underworld to its final resting spot.

Other murals were inspired by tarot cards, which Anado read. The Emperor and the Empress have no clothes and were made, in part, from cut beer and wine bottles. The Emperor has a beer bottle penis, which has broken off more than a few times by the couple’s dogs’ excitedly wagging tails. 

A section of the wall features mosaics inspired by the tarot. This one is the Empress, a card depicting maternal influence.

The Lovers features a trio of entangled snakes, which represent the invisible holy energy yogis believe resides at the base of our spines. In tarot, the card depicts the choices we make in life and love, and the consequences of such choices. 

Snakes are a recurring theme in Anado’s mosaics, including this one, inspired by the Lovers card in the tarot deck.

The Hanged Man depicts a young Anado hanging around in New York City in the ’70s. 

“Respectame,” says Anado’s mother in the last mosaic on Kismet Street — a healing work of art that was his favorite of the bunch.

The Fool honors Anado’s beloved mother. She’s looking down at her husband and saying, “Respectame” (Respect me). It was Anado’s favorite piece, Richard told us. He liked the idea of his mom standing up, as she never did during her life. In tarot, this card starts the deck and represents the beginning of a journey.

Two pet memorial walls (one for cats and the other for dogs) are dedicated to Anado and Richard’s beloved companions over the years. They were designed by Anado and completed over a period of two years by Mosaics in Mexico, a mosaic mural-making workshop led by artists Julie Richey and Ana Foncerrada. 

The second part of the tour offers a glimpse inside Anado and Richard’s home.

Casa de las Ranas: Anado and Richard’s Fairy Tale Home

Our tour ended at Casa de las Ranas (Frog House). While renovating their home, which was in a ruined state when he and Richard purchased it, Anado referred to it as a tadpole that they transformed into a handsome prince, earning the residence its name. I found it especially fitting, as the well-known Mexican muralist Diego Rivera aka el Sapo-Rana (Toad-Frog) was born in the nearby capital city of Guanajuato. 

The dining room at la Casa de las Ranas

The house itself isn’t that big — but there sure is a lot going on inside!

The Rosewood gang couldn’t resist getting a photo taken in the kooky casa.

The kitchen at Richard and Anado’s home

Like the rest of the compound, the mosaic images covering the walls were created from pieces of mirror, tile, ceramics, and salvaged and recycled materials. Everywhere we looked there was something fantastic to be discovered. 

The workshop offers a glimpse into the method of Anado’s madness.

Anado had plenty of materials to work with — everywhere you look there are quirky items.

Various artistic inspirations, including Trump’s micropenis

Religious iconography in Anado’s garage workshop

The tour ends in the garage workshop, filled with containers of paint, folk art, necklaces, and odds and ends. Wally bought a bracelet of mismatched beads to remember our time here. 

The Chapel of Jimmy Ray is a journey to an artsy, whimsical world. You’ll feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland.

Final Tips for Visiting the Chapel of Jimmy Ray

1. Make an appointment — through your hotel.

Because the Chapel of Jimmy Ray is Richard’s home and a museum of sorts showcasing Anado’s work, visits are by appointment only. We had emailed Richard weeks before to make a reservation but never heard back. Luckily, the concierge at our hotel in San Miguel was able to connect with him and secure us a spot.

Maybe the trick is to get Richard on the phone. Try giving him a call at +52-415-155-8044.

2. Arrange transportation so you don’t get stranded.

As mentioned, we were upset with being overcharged for our ride out there, and made the mistake of dismissing our driver after he dropped us off. As a result, we found ourselves stranded after the tour. When we tried to connect with a taxi service or Uber, the wifi and cell service was too spotty. Fortunately, the kind-hearted Richard took pity on us and asked Carlos to take us to our destination, the natural hot springs of La Gruta. 

The best option might be to have a driver stay there, so you’re ready to head back after the tour.

3. Be sure to get there on time, if not early.

Our driver showed up late, and by the time we got into the Chapel of Jimmy Ray complex, it was 10 minutes past the appointed time, and Richard had started the tour. As such, we missed some of the background about Anado and the property.

4. After the tour, visit La Gruta Spa and the Sanctuary of Atotonilco.

While you’re in the area, stop by La Gruta, where you can soak in hot springs grottos with locals. And then head down the street to the Sanctuary of Atotonilco, a UNESCO World Heritage Site known for its amazing murals from the 1700s. –Duke

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Chapel of Jimmy Ray and la Casa de las Ranas

Temazcal 3
37893 La Cieneguita
Guanajuato
Mexico