It was Juliet who asked "What's in a name?"
Andrea Otanez, a local artist who makes religious altars for the home, echoes the thought. What one person calls an altar, another may call "the place we keep Utah Jazz memorabilia.""I have a broad view of altars," Otanez says. "They don't have to be Catholic shrines. I think a refrigerator door, with pictures of the kids and other family items, could be an altar."
So could that basement case where bowling trophies are kept; or the wall with the clippings and the crown from some Junior Miss pageant. For Otanez, an altar doesn't have to be overtly religious. It just has to be a place where a person can reflect and "bring some sincere emotion."
The altars Otanez has constructed do get more specific, however.
They are tiny shrines to spiritual awareness.
"I'm not Catholic," she says, "but I have a Catholic heritage. And in my family the Virgin of Guadalupe has been omnipresent. When I was living in New Mexico I drew a lot of cultural comfort from Guadalupe."
In a short essay, Otanez once speculated on the pull and appeal of the Virgin of Guadalupe in her own life as well as the lives of others. She writes:
Throughout time La Virgen has been reclaimed and reinterpreted as something beyond a Catholic symbol.
Why does her image appear on cars, T-shirts, jewelry, tattooed skin, city walls, pens and strings of lights and other seemingly secular objects?
All of these could be popular religious expression. That is, painting Guadalupe on a car trades homage to God for protection of the vehicle's occupants.
But these manifestations of a spiritual figure also perhaps usher us into a larger community that stretches across a hemisphere.
"So many cultures come together in Utah," Otanez says. "Today I draw from many sources, including the Mormon pioneer heritage. I find myself gathering all kinds of things. The altars that interest me most are the ones from the Mexico countryside where toys, flowers - even cans of Coke - are included. But they have to mean something. I don't think an altar should be mere decoration."
Born in Salt Lake City, Otanez graduated from the University of Utah with a degree in American Studies. She works as a regional editor for the University of New Mexico Press while helping along "a husband, two daughters and two dogs."
Though she has not been prolific as an artist, her work has had some impressive exposure. One of her altar installations was part of the "Soy Un Testigo" ("I Am a Witness") exhibition at the Salt Lake Art Center, where she worked with Jean Irwin, Theresa Martinez, Carolyn Webber and Lorena Riffo - artists with similar interests.
She also did a Day of the Dead installation for an exhibition of Hispanic art.
But for the most part, Otanez prefers to work small and quietly. The altar in her own home is a touching and tasteful blend of icons from Mexican culture - including skeletons, tiny metal "milagros" and ceramic work, all under the protective gaze of The Virgin of Guadalupe.
And there are flowers.
"What's in a name?" asked Juliet. "That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."
In the eclectic work of Andrea Otanez, that rose will always play a major role.
"I really like roses," she says. "I guess it's the Guadalupe influence. My last daughter is named `Rosa.' "
That, in fact, may help explain the Virgin of Guadalupe's sweet smile.