The show will feature art submitted by people from Aztec and the surrounding area, and will be on display at the music store in Aztec during the month of December.
Born in Monrovia, Calif., Morris, 74, recently moved to Aztec from Albuquerque with partner and fellow artist Lydia Velose.
His resume is a travelogue through the myriad gardens and labyrinths of art: he received his bachelor of fine art at California State University, Los Angeles; studied under "social landscape" photographer Lee Friedlander at the University of California at Los Angeles, directed the film "Cahill Family," a documentary on an artist couple; performed musical and percussive spoken word pieces; arranged "happenings" for educational TV; and made paintings, drawings, and photographs along with his ephemeral "mail art" - postcard pieces he has sent to friends around the globe.
Asked what artists have inspired him, Morris cited surrealist Marcel Duchamp and Bertolt Brecht, creator of "epic theater."
One spoken word piece, "Blue Grain," asks about the nature of art and where it can be traced, a question that runs, slips, and snarls like an unruly echo through much of Morris' work.
"Oh, oh, oh, huffin', puffin', hyperventilatin'
Just enough air left to laugh.
The voice is a mystery we all misunderstand.
The sounds we make are pieces of a puzzle in the sand."
"I've always felt that art is a way of life, not a collection of objects," Morris said, his voice softened to a near-whisper by Parkinson's disease.
Morris is keeping busy in his new hometown. In addition to judging the upcoming art show he continues to explore his art.
"I have been making a series of masks and doing what I call "visual poetry,' often
While he's had a wide-ranging career in art and in teaching, his artwork will not be found in galleries or museums.
"His impulse," said George Rowe, owner of Crash Music and sponsor of the upcoming exhibition, said, "is to avoid the commodification of art, to reach a point where the familiar becomes unfamiliar. He likes to survey the gap between the impulse to create and the execution."
Rowe and Morris met in Albuquerque in the 1980s at Truman Middle School, where they both taught. "Rikk has saved my life 17 times, at least," he said.
Morris says he went into special education primarily working with emotionally or visually impaired children for more than 35 years as a way to be creative while eschewing the gallery system.
And what was the secret to his success in the classroom? "Empathy," he said.
Morris has also taught informally, too, mostly in other local artists' homes. A few years ago he led a five-week course on art and ideas with the Wild Women Writing group in Durango, Colo., sponsored by the Women's Resource Center.
"The student has to work to understand," Rowe said of Morris' approach to teaching. "He wouldn't give you too much all the information you have to work at it. And you'd see yourself discovering this stuff. Instead of Rikk just telling you about it. That's how he would teach these artists. He would go to their studios." Morris has worked with a handful of notable Four Corners artists, including Jenny Treanor, Susan Merrill and Colin Rooney, a musician with the Salt Fire Circus.
Though his hands tremble slightly from the Parkinson's disease that he was diagnosed with seven years ago, it clearly has not slowed him down. A recent deep-brain implant surgery has greatly reduced the involuntary physical jerks that used to interfere with his work.
As judge, Morris looks to his mother for guidance. "My mom had a crystal ball," he says, grinning. "Give accurate readings."