D e s e r t E x p o s u r e
December 2009
Mark and Marilyn Nero: Kingston
Page: 2
"We had lived in New Mexico before moving to Seattle a long time ago," notes Mark, looking somewhat abashed, "and then relocated to Phoenix." He and Marilyn finally set out on a patient search to find a remote location affording them the peace and quiet conducive to their archaic predilections. Like seemingly everyone else residing in Kingston, the decision to move — and to stay — in the sleepy hamlet has been both firm and deliberate.
Cranberry Press — named after the cranberry bogs adjacent to its original location — targets a small, specialized market that appreciates the look and feel of fine craftsmanship. There is almost a feeling of romantic nostalgia evoked by such time-consuming, quality-centered endeavors, reflected perhaps in the sensibilities of today's "slow food" and "artisan cooking" trends. This printing and publishing enterprise is old-fashioned not only in its technology, but its operation. Mark and Marilyn use lots of elbow grease to market and distribute their products as well as to create them one masterful piece at a time. Eschewing staff, they personally ship items directly to galleries and museum gift shops as well as online purchasers.
"I like the hands-on, planning and problem-solving aspects of what we do," offers Mark, showing with pride how each letter of type is set individually and stressing that every reproduced color requires a separate press run.
Because the couple is devoted to the opposite of mass production, Cranberry's output is necessarily limited. Mark's recent stint as a professor took time away from the press and some merchandise remains in short supply. He and his wife still do some custom productions, however, including mats and framing. During a recent visit, Mark was preparing to print one of his own poems and proofing a menu for a new restaurant.
"Take a look," he gestures, when asked what's up next. A sweep of Mark's arm reveals an array of other projects in the works, surrounded by piles of paper stock, tins of ink, shelves of books and drawers of type.
Steps away from this workspace are museum walls covered floor-to-ceiling with memorabilia related to Kingston's glory years, including not only the aforementioned reproductions of vintage photographs but oddball artifacts: mining tools, whiskey bottles, square nails, mercantile receipts and the like. Behind the bank's back door are buckets filled with items discovered in the course of doing yard work, including a cream-colored ceramic doorknob and star-like metal flanges once used to strengthen brick walls. Books of regional interest and art produced by local artists are sold within, along with fresh coffee and packaged snacks. On occasion the gallery hosts exhibitions featuring artistic works produced by some of the several hundred residents scattered throughout the Percha Creek valley. (No one seems certain whence the name percha derives: It translates from Spanish as "perch" or "post," but some folks swear that refers to "da turkey buzzards dat percha on da trees along da crick.")
"I've collected a lot of interesting stories as well as many old pictures over the years," says Mark, who reports that a surprising number of visitors with links to Kingston have stopped by since he and Marilyn have reopened the Percha Bank building to the public. "What's amazing is that so much happened in this so-called Gem of the Black Range during such a short amount of time. The silver panic of 1893 really marked the end of Kingston's heyday, less than a dozen years after it was founded."
The same "panic," an economic collapse prompted by a 90% drop in government-regulated silver prices, pushed Silver City and other western mining centers into a tailspin. Kingston, dependent almost entirely on its extraction of silver ore, almost became a ghost town overnight. But not quite. These days, that's regarded as a valid reason to move here — and to earn a living in the not-quite abandoned traditions of fine craftsmanship.
Learn more about the Percha Bank Gallery & Museum at www.perchabank.com, or Cranberry Press at www.cranberrypress.com The gallery-museum is open Saturday and Sunday from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Admission is free, although donations are accepted. For details about either operation, call 895-5032.
Richard Mahler is a writer and tour guide based in Silver City. Learn more
about his latest book at www.thejaguarsshadow.com and his guiding services at www.silvercitywalks.com