At 10 a.m. Sunday morning, a rumpled and unshaven man sat on the pavement of the sunny patio of the main branch of the San Antonio Public Library, his back to the ethereal, baubly spectacle emerging on the other side of the windowpanes. The entrance doors were locked - “It don’t open up till 11,” the guy informed me - but through the glass I could see the people installing “Days,” Jesse Amado’s tribute to Linda Pace, who would have turned 65 this April 17. The installers grin at me then holler for Jesse, who motions for me to go around to another set of doors and into the busy scene in SAPL’s lobby.

Jesse Amado has just finished six weeks of cancer treatment. His voice, while always measured, sounds only slightly quieter than usual, but is no less gently authoritative. He looks a little tired, but not very. He is wearing some truly awesome striped socks and hip, impeccable sneakers. Amado took a break from monitoring the installation and talked to us about Pace, “Days,” and beauty.

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The title of the piece is “Days.”

That’s indicative of the piece, in terms of the material, which is teardrop-shaped crystals; each crystal represents one day in Linda Pace’s life. There should be 22,722 of them. That’s why “Days” is such a significant title … I had help with that title, actually - Jan Jarboe [Russell, current head of the Linda Pace Foundation and close friend of Pace] came up with that.

Did you know Linda pre-Artpace?

I did, in fact. … It all started when her mother Margaret [Bosshardt Pace] funded a residency that I did with another artist at the Bemis Center in Omaha, Nebraska. So then we all met up at Margaret’s house [in San Antonio], and Linda was there.

Was Linda making art at that time?

She was, but she was also funding this fledgling foundation [which was to become Artpace] at the time … in that Broadway office across from the Witte. So we met … but we were both pretty shy people. … Anyway, as you can see, I have a great production team over there. We started out with three people in the beginning; these three dove into the task of tying to the monofilament each individual teardrop. … I made the final determination that [“Days”] would work best in the window … and that way they would catch the light. And that it would be more readily viewable from the outside as well, so there could be two-way participation … also, another major consideration is that once we’re through with this, we’re just gonna seal it with another couple of panes of glass, with the piece inside. So that will minimize possible breakage, and maintenance will be negligible.

Is there a conceptual end to sealing it in with glass? Other than the practicality of keeping them untouched?

Well, I sometimes think of them as being entombed, you know? Yeah, and just because of the memorial aspect of it … so metaphorically I think that kind of works its way in.

Were you one of the inaugural Artpace Fellows?

I was.

How active or engaged was Linda with that first fellowship class ?

Well, I’ll tell you what happened with that … since it was the inaugural class, and it was also to be the grand opening of Artpace, there was a lot going on … so basically this meant I had the run of the place. I had it all to myself. That led to some interesting things.

In terms of scale, or what you were able to -

No, because of the isolation, the privacy … it was a time of personal change for me that I wanted to reflect in the show. I had the reflective time, the privacy … one of the pieces I did required a large mirror - I forget the dimensions - maybe 6 feet by 15 feet? So I could see myself. And there were opportunities to perform, react, and enact, things I felt compelled to do, like un-don all my clothes, and look at myself. Like I was thinking rebirth, maybe. Being born again. I worked, sometimes, in the nude. And the things I did during that time and that experience I felt compelled to enact.

Do you often feel compulsion while working?

... I don’t know. I don’t know if I can answer that question. Because it varies, I think. And because I’m a studio artist for the most part, particularly now. … There’s that moment in the studio that happens for an artist with the work, and bringing that to the audience so they can see or experience that same moment - I mean, it has a lot to do with being in the studio. I guess “compulsive” is a part of it, but it’s also being playful. The whole idea of play as creativity, which is an old, old notion. Sigmund Freud even wrote papers about that, and so I try to put myself in that state of being where I can allow that to happen. So maybe compulsion is a part of it, maybe intuition is a part of it, maybe instinct is a part of it … one of the things that has been really helpful to me is to be able to be in New York half the time, and then to be able to be here the rest of the time. Because when I go to New York … I don’t have a studio. And I think about it and I write about it - art - but I don’t do it. I don’t make it. So when I come back here, it’s a matter of spending seven days a week, eight to 10 hours a day working.

So New York is sort of your intake valve and San Antonio is sort of your output valve, if there is such a thing?

You could say that. In a way it’s kind of refreshing not to have to make art, to get away from that process completely. … It’s worked for me, that going back and forth for two, three months at a time. It’s worked well. And even if I don’t wind up with an end product - typically I do, but in the cases where I don’t - there’s still something vauable, something important going on in the whole process. Important to me.

How has that feeling - that mindframe of being playful in the studio, applied to this project?

Yeah, let’s get back to this project. It has shifted, somewhat, because I came up with the idea of the crystals … I’ve used these crystals before, and as a matter of fact, crystals were a major element in the body of work I was doing at the time I was selected for the 1995 Artpace show. And one of those pieces was purchased by Margaret to donate to SAMA for their collection. So suddenly it dawned on me: You know what? I used crystals in the piece that SAMA bought, which was called “Cry.” It was made to commemorate my father, who was the big crybaby in the family. … It just made sense, it closed the circle once again; it was a near-epiphany.

Linda, I know, was a big proponent of the subconscious, of dreams determining her art process. Was this something you were mindful of in making “Days”?

I was mindful of it. I was aware of it. I can’t be specific about how it affected all of this, but in a way I wanted to relay that to my team here. Like when it came time to putting the crystals onto the filament - there are six different colors of crystal, and I told them ‘Look, don’t even worry about making decisions’ - also, there’s 4-inch, then there’s 3-inch, and 2-inch sizes. I said, ‘Don’t worry about the order, don’t worry about the color, just [use] whatever you grab first out of the box. Just put it together and just leave it at that.’

That’s fascinating, because not making conscious decisions about each crystal allows for that element of chance. That sense of randomness … which is also so appropriate to the subject matter of “Days,” which is…

… Days. Precisely. Each one out of the box: another 24 hours, what does that have in store for us? As I told [the team] as they’re putting it up, just take it as it comes. So maybe, maybe that reflects a little about Linda’s process. Maybe. … I think it’s really important to stress the role that … Linda herself played in the project. I read her book [Dreaming Red] twice, I talked to people about her, and being allowed to stay at Camp Street [in Linda Pace’s apartment] … since October I’ve been there.

And how has that affected this piece?

It’s interesting, because I feel her presence. Especially at the very beginning, I almost felt that I was going to run into her around the corner. And I thought that was vital. Every day spent there reaffirmed what I was doing.

Was anything about staying at Camp Street surprising to you?

No, other than it took me out of my typical comfort zone. Usually when I’m in San Antonio I stay with friends, and so it’s always nice to come home at the end of the day to wonderful friendly faces. This time, it was solitary, and more ike a retreat.

Sounds kind of like your initial fellowship, in that you were afforded this time and space alone.

True. I hadn’t thought about that. And it’s been a godsend, because there are moments every day when I need solitude.

[The strands] have got a beautiful sound element right now.

I know. The tinkling? Obviously when they’re glassed in that won’t be a part of it, but for now, it’s like you can hear life.

Your work, for me, has a consistently beautiful element. You can see an influence - not in a facile way - of couture. The fringe in your show at Sala Diaz last year struck me both as menacing and political in this anti-war show, but also beautiful. It seems to me that yours among contemporary work has a particular preoccupation with beauty.

Well, I discovered a long time ago that that was one of my strengths … [the work] just takes on formal qualities that, I think, need to be utilized. Like balance and harmony, composition. So there was no need to fight it. And I think Octavio Paz has written about this, that aspect of being a Mexican: There’s always that desire, that devotion to beauty. That’s something I had to recognize within myself, and not supress it. So, yeah, I adore beauty, I’m devoted to it, and if all else fails, I’ve left this useless beautiful object in the world [laughs]. •

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