![]() ![]() He said the mill was getting out twenty-five hundred sacks a day. Once he picked a piece of gypsum out of the borax. For an hour I watched this constant stream of borax as it slid down into the hungry crushers, and I listened to the chalk-faced operator who yelled in my ear. The ore was hauled by train from some twenty miles over toward the valley, and was dumped from a high trestle into shutes that fed the grinders. #AMARGOSA OPERA HOUSE HOTEL DEATH VALLEY FULL#Inside it was as dusty and full of a powdery atmosphere as an old-fashioned flour mill. It was the property of an English firm, and the work of hauling, grinding, roasting borax ore went on day and night. Next morning, while Nielsen packed the outfit, I visited the borax mill. "It was sunset when we arrived at Death Valley Junction - a weird, strange sunset in drooping curtains of transparent cloud, lighting up dark mountain ranges, some peaks of which were clear-cut and black against the sky, and others veiled in trailing storms, and still others white with snow. Of course, a filling station enabled them to attend to the damaged tire.ĭesigned by architect Alexander Hamilton McCulloch and built during 1923-25, the now shuttered building was likely originally constructed in response to author Zane Gray's published observation in "Tales of Lonely Trails" (1922) of the horrible living conditions provided (or not provided) by Pacific Coast Borax Company at the time: Out of necessity, they motored 30 miles east to a tiny roadside enclave called Death Valley Junction that featured a run-down Mexican Colonial adobe building housing the former company offices, laborers quarters and a 23-room hotel with a full dining room of the Pacific Coast Borax Company. ![]() ![]() Colleges, universities and community halls where she performed regularly over the previous years were now more interested in booking burgeoning rock 'n' roll acts, spoken word and other hip happenings of the time.īut Becket and her husband were also exhausted from the traveling touring required and the flat tire on their travel trailer did not help the situation. The year was 1967 and the interest for performance programs of her ilk was dwindling fast due to the profound upheaval in 1960s popular culture. © Time Inc.ĭuring one tour, the couple decided to camp between shows for a week at the Furnace Creek campground in Death Valley National Monument. | Photo: Vernon Merritt for Life Magazine. Marta Becket and her husband Tom Williams photographed at Death Valley Junction for LIFE Magazine. During these years, Becket began to see, experience and grow to appreciate the Western landscape, which differed vastly from what she had known growing up in New York City. #AMARGOSA OPERA HOUSE HOTEL DEATH VALLEY SERIES#Still, Becket continued to paint and sell her canvasses between performance tours.Īfter marrying her manager Tom Williams in 1962, the two embarked on a series of one-person show tours of the Western United States. A critic of the day commented in Art News rather presciently: "In the midst of crowds and glitter, her figures seem isolated and withdrawn - living in private existences in closed worlds while displaying their bodies publicly." Convinced that she would receive her "big break" when her one-woman show opened at NYC's Waverly Gallery on November 23, 1963, her hopes were dashed when the sad news of President Kennedy's assassination spread around the world the very same day. While touring the regional circuit in the early 1960s performing with her own repertoire, Becket also managed to secure an art gallery in NYC where she began to sell her figurative paintings of whimsical New York City street scenes - city parks, costume shops, circuses populated with a variety of theatrical and stylized children, shop keepers, carnies and even "bored" fortune tellers. "The Kite Flyer," one of Marta Becket's earlier paintings recently sold on auction. ![]()
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