My most recent trip to Texas was a true test of my will and endurance– could I possibly drink the last of that very-yummy-but-very-thick spiced date juice? Did I really need all those eggs? Is there room for one more piece of shrimp? How many lattes can one woman possibly drink in one week? I found the answers to these questions to be ‘yes’ and ‘I don’t know, but I’m awake now’. This was my second trip to Texas this year, this time for the International Association for Identification’s 103rd Annual Educational Conference, hosted this year in sunny San Antonio. My trip began and ended with displays of hospitality beyond anything I’ve had the fortune to experience before. Texans, native and temporary, really know what’s what. Just saying, the rest of us could really step up our games.
I landed in Austin on Sunday at 5:30 AM, 3:30 Portland time. I only understood why everyone was so concerned about my flight times about the time I hit security at PDX the night before. Fortunately for me, a sweet friend invited me to join her for a home cooked Lebanese breakfast in San Marcos before continuing on to San Antonio. I’ll just say, you haven’t lived until you’ve been stuffed to the gills with omelette and cheese and fruit and date juice and cappuccino (and and and) while half travel-delirious. I’m surprised she didn’t need to roll me out the front door. I don’t think I ate for the rest of the day. I’m still not over this breakfast- did you know you can put cinnamon and black pepper in eggs and it’s the most excellent thing?
Continuing the ‘International” theme, I was fortunate enough to set up base camp for the week with Kathryn, a colleague from Liverpool by way of South Africa, in an excellent little bungalow that came equipped with a proper hanging out porch, and some delightfully questionable decor. For example, a french bulldog statue in a sombrero, a bevy of Venetian masks and a lenticular Marilyn Monroe portrait that watched over my bed. As a team of non-natives we availed ourselves of many distinct pleasures not found in our hometowns. Shopping at the HEB in particular was a joy, and I felt like a salty veteran when I was able to advise against the ‘Crazy Water’. The crazy thing about crazy water is that it mostly tastes like dirty feet (I learned this lesson on my first trip in February of this year, where I bought two bottles on the strength of the name and finished half of one {also I feel like I have to apologize to the makers of Crazy Water, it’s just really really not my thing, you do you, feet water people}). If you’re going to HEB (or any number of froofy coffee shops in Portland), Topo Chico is the superior mineral water. While the hotels were beautiful and convenient, there’s nothing like constantly getting lost because you’ve been talking over your GPS to really give you the flavor of a town. I officially love San Antonio.
The Conference
The International Association for Identification (IAI) sums up their yearly conference as follows, “The IAI conference is the largest organized event in the world for education and training in the fields of Latent Print, Footwear and Tire Track, Blood Stain Pattern, Forensic Photography, Forensic Art, Facial Identification, Biometric, and Crime Scene Evidence”. This basically amounts to hordes of professionals descending on a convention center in search of training, lectures, coffee, and some much needed shop talk with colleagues from all over the world, and if you’re very lucky, some serious travel-fatigue induced giggle fits.
Among the lectures I attended, two outside of the forensic art discipline really stand out in my memory. One for the challenge, and one for the uplifting novelty. The first was led by Dr. Abimilec Morales Quiroz, regarding the identification and exhumation process of a pair of clandestine mass graves in Tetelcingo, Morelos, Mexico. Upon entering the room, I was greeted by Dr. Morales Quiroz with, “Habla Español?”, after my stomach dropped into my shoes, I replied “Hablo un poquito, entiendo mas”, to which he grinned and said “Me too!”. I’m not sure if he was making a joke about his English or Spanish speaking skills, but the entire lecture was to be delivered en Español. I’ve made a point of working on my Spanish this year (which has atrophied embarrassingly upon moving from California to Oregon), my response as I walked in was the first time I’ve spoken any of it aloud to a native speaker in years. I struggled to follow at some points, but afterwards I was able to compare notes with a fluent colleague and I found I had gotten the general gist of things. I highly recommend researching the subject, it is truly incredible what our forensic colleagues are up against at times in Mexico, and I admire their tenacity in trying to right some truly terrible wrongs.
The other non-forensic art lecture that I thoroughly enjoyed came near the end of the week, featuring Bella, the cadaver dog. Bella and her handler, Rus Ruslander gave a demonstration and provided a vital bit of education in the capabilities of cadaver sniffing dogs; but more than that I felt like they provided a real morale boost after days of working hard to absorb as much as possible. I will just say that Bella is a very good dog, and is very good at her job. Dogs with jobs! What’s not to love? I am now the proud owner of a Bella trading card- feel free to be a little jelly about that.
This year I only attended one workshop, among the various lectures I took in. Of the other 2 workshops available, one I had taken last year and was so popular I couldn’t justify putting someone on a waitlist just to take it again myself, and the other I was leading (more on that later). Lucky for me, the workshop I was able to attend was led by none other than Karen T. Taylor, who literally wrote the book on Forensic Art and who I enjoy tremendously as a teacher and all around good-hearted lady.
Karen led a mini-sculpture workshop (mini meaning one day, as compared to her week-long classes in San Marcos), focused on identifying and depicting the muscles of the face that aid in expression. If you’ve never taken a class with her, they are a thing of beauty for those who appreciate order and preparation. For this class there was a fleet of 3/4 mounted skulls, baggies full of tools and wooden eyeballs, and a full color printed set of handouts with answers to any question a person might have about sculpting the muscles of the face. A mini workshop did not mean mini-effort, if you’re ever wondering if attending an IAI conference is ‘worth it’, there’s really no other place to get a taste of so many high quality trainings in one week as this.
Achieving Realistic Expectations
Most of my summer has been dedicated to preparation for this workshop- right up to the night before, which I spent on the living room floor of our little vacay bungalow, slipping my business cards into supply baggies and taping newsprint onto drawing boards. When I woke up at 5 am the morning of, I realized getting another hour of sleep in was going to be a futile effort, so I sat right back down on the floor in front of the coffee table and created some extra visual examples of the proportion finding technique I would be teaching in 5 more hours. After some breakfasting and fussing over clothing options, my bungalow-mate helped me shlep 21 students worth of stuff over to the Grand Hyatt. The morning was a bit of a blur, but it felt something like Christmas morning. Friends and colleagues poked their heads in as I was getting set up, and I just felt… happy. I am so grateful to my helpers along the way, from editing the course proposal, lugging all my stuff (and delivering a ‘bucket’ of coffee), sitting and modeling, modeling for the model so she could see the demo too… I love teaching. There is something very satisfying in seeing the light bulb go off for someone else, because you explained a concept in a way that clicked for them– that’s part of it, but the really amazing thing is all of the people that come together to make a class happen. And all of that is just the lead up to the class- once all the students show up, it’s a whole new animal.
My biggest worry going into the course was that the techniques might not translate- I hoped that what I was saying would make sense, and be applicable to improving anatomical accuracy and professional marksmanship. My students really went above and beyond my expectations in many ways, I was so relieved to see that what I had to say seemed to make sense to them, and I was able to see marked improvement even within the 5 hours of class with some of the students in particular. I could see quite a leap in accuracy from the warm-ups to the final pieces, and I was satisfied that everyone really seemed to be giving it their best effort.
I left my workshop feeling so proud of everyone who took part. My students really represented the whole gamut- from individuals who had never drawn before, to seasoned professionals. Taking an ‘art’ class can be intimidating, and it takes guts to walk into a 5 hour course for your first try. It also takes a certain dropping of the ego at the door to come in as a professional and give something different from your own technique a try. There was so much to admire among my students, I feel very fortunate to have had the cohort that I did. What really impressed me was the dedication and concentration I observed- I don’t think I’ve ever led a class that was silent during work time until now. Granted, mostly I’ve taught K-12 students, but I was impressed nonetheless.
To keep things in balance, as all things must be, my very favorite picture from the class will never be posted online, but I’m considering printing it for my fridge. In the photo, I’m gesticulating wildly, as I do, and there is a small circle of students sitting on the floor (let me just take a moment with that- these incredible adults SAT ON THE FLOOR like grade schoolers to see what I was doing in my demo, and I love them for that), and a couple rows back, another student is staring off into the middle distance with their mouth slightly agape. Whatever I was saying held no interest for that person. I have absolutely been that person in one class or another (Algebra 1A & 1B for sure), it’s not a personal failing. It’s good to remember that not every teacher is right for every student, and try as you might, you can’t please everyone, so just do your best for those people on the floor. The people who get you will listen, and may the rest find their right teacher too.
Rough Riders
Like last year, the conference wrapped with a banquet and installation of the new IAI President and board. I love banquets, galas, parties- any reason to dress up and clap. Unlike last year, I did not stay for dancing, but made a sneaky escape to a rumored-to-be-haunted bar at the Menger Hotel, which was around the corner from the banquet venue. I don’t know about you, but I’m not one to turn down a place that might be haunted, but definitely did host Teddy Roosevelt and his Rough Riders- how cool is that? Somehow it seemed fitting that the forensic art crew found themselves gathered in a funky haunted bar. There were artists from across the country and around the world, who braved countless travel setbacks, negotiated the time off work and found their way to this gathering, upstairs in a steamy old fashioned bar to decompress and catch up after a week of cramming as much information as possible into their brains. They may not be a full blown cavalry regiment, but they’re some pretty tough and tenacious folks.
After the close of the conference, Kathryn and I made our way to Austin, where as I mentioned in the beginning of this post, we experienced some truly incredible hospitality from some very gracious hosts. I won’t tell tales on friend time, but suffice to say, there were mountains of shrimp, cappuccinos, many an inside joke, and just happy and invigorating times. Thank you especially to my hosts, the days following the conference were even more special than those during for many reasons.
Grace V. Anderson 