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Art, Donald Judd, Marfa, Marfa Lights, road trip, West Texas
A year-end drive, planned very last minute to stave off post-holiday gloom, took us to the Hill Country in the central part of the state, and then farther west to the empty expanses of West Texas.
Our ultimate target was Marfa, a small town that defies easy description. Other writers have used words like hipster, artsy, curated, minimalist, fake, expensive, cool, and overrated. Every one of these adjectives can apply, but Marfa is a place you have to feel, not just see or try to put into words, and it takes more than dropping in for an afternoon to do it. On the surface, Marfa could be small-town anywhere – in prairie Iowa or rural Cuba. Half-century old cars and faded pickup trucks sit in small patches of scorched grass, vintage Airstreams glint among the sepia tones of the vegetation, and low-slung houses with chipped-paint fences hide courtyards and more from clueless passersby. This is what you see, and are meant to see, before (or if) you have your cultural epiphany.
But shimmering elusively in the plainspoken, down-home facades and pastoral landscapes are the half-hidden intellectualism, the artsy aesthetic, the foodie vibe, and (if you are the cynical type) the pretension that a visitor has heard is there but has to slowly discern. Inside some of those modest-looking dwellings live wealthy L.A. movers and shakers, up-and-coming or already famous artists, and well-heeled couples both young and old who seem to have been beamed in from Brooklyn or Seattle. There are infinity-edge pools hiding in there, and stainless steel kitchens, Eames chairs, and alpaca throws. We know this later, when we flip through books in the shops, but what we see are dusty streets with kitschy awnings and rusty screen doors.
On our first pass through town, we do not recognize a single gallery space on the two main streets; the buildings are nondescript and any signage or advertisement nonexistent. When our hotel receptionist points to the map and tells us where things are, I keep shaking my head, thinking I must have the map upside down or am otherwise disoriented. We went down that street, I say, there was nothing there! I think J and I are both thinking we drove 600 miles for nothing.
But no, a second pass reveals discreet signs, and simple iron doors open to reveal rooms containing, for example, three huge Andy Warhol paintings, or tablesful of art glass, or a “September Eleven” installation. Even our hotel surprises us: this unadorned, rectangular carton right off the railroad tracks shelters a hopping, see-and-be-seen bar, highbrow local bookstore, and Architectural Digest-worthy room décor.
Some of the trailers in town (and more than a few rentable teepees) are part of an ironic-chic camping complex. A plainly unattractive bluish-gray building contains just about the best pizza I’ve ever waited an hour and a half to get. Another old trailer dishes out “Marfalafel” and other Mediterranean goodies for visitors like Beyoncé, you, and me, and it takes us well over a day to even locate another popular restaurant that is tucked up against a random house with a teeny tiny sign.
We walk through a field filled with a kilometer-long string of concrete … things. Apparently some visitors mistake these for unused highway barriers. The minimalist blocks are the work of the Marfa art scene’s founding father, Donald Judd. Like the town itself, the sculptural art at first inspires some eye-rolling and disappointment, but after a slow walk from one end to the other, with the morning sun catching the blunt gray edges and illuminating the surrounding prairie grasses, the piece begins to appeal. We pose with our senior dog in the openings; this would have made a much edgier Christmas card!
It’s hard to tell if the locals want us there or not. It’s clear that the burgeoning art scene has kept the town alive; many other small settlements we pass through out here in the desert look one more economic dip away from extinction. But we feel the ambivalence of both the hip crowd and the locals. Many places are only open on the weekend, shops close when they feel like it even then, service is sluggish, and a shrug might be the best answer you get to any question.
It sounds a bit unlikable, doesn’t it, or at least difficult to fully appreciate? Why does anyone drive hours and hours (and you have to) to see this place whose most famous work of art, the fake Prada store, is another 36 miles outside of town? Whose other claim to fame is a set of mysterious lights that bob out on the desert at night? Whose essence can only be guessed at or seen in a book?
I can tell you why we did it – because it’s there! – but I can’t fully explain why I loved it. I need to go back and spend more than a day and a half browsing the galleries around town, to get a second shot at the Marfa Lights which failed to show up for us, to take the full six-hour Chinati Foundation tour, to try the Marfalafel since the food truck guys decided to close right when I walked up, and to try to more fully grasp the unlikely appeal of this tumbledown town.
I can tell you that after the first few hours, I thought Marfa was the dumbest destination ever, nothing but a sad little place, or maybe a joke on all of us. That after eight hours, a little of the mystery had gotten under my skin. That after a day, I was all in – hook, line, and sinker. I can also tell you my husband did not get past stage 1.5 of that thought evolution; he thought it was sort of interesting and enjoyed watching my gradual enthrallment, but I’m guessing my next trip will be solo!
Anna said:
You sure discover some places Lex! Never heard of this place, but now I’m googling it. The fake Prada store is pretty crazy though!
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lexklein said:
The weirder, the better, Anna! 🙂 I think you’ll find it interesting to read what you find. It’s such a strange juxtaposition: a kind of rundown little town with serious art cred.
I wish I’d had better lighting to capture the Prada store, but it was pretty cool anyway, and we and about 3 other people were the only ones out there on this lonely road close to dusk. Very fun overall.
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lisadorenfest said:
Well you know I was having location envy when I heard you’d gone to Marfa and now you throw this post at me. The envy and desire to visit have both deepened. Did you stay at El Cosmico #bucketlist ?!? When I come visit, we are going to Marfa #Texas2022, When do you head out to Ecuador? Ahoy from Ko Lipe.
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lexklein said:
I’ll throw some location envy right back at ya! On the sea in Thailand … hmm, not horrible! Maybe even lots better than Marfa. But I know what you mean! I’d been dying to go, and sometimes the best way to get motivated is to just pick up and leave.
No, we could not get a place at El Cosmico (that was my reference to the ironic-chic campground) because we went so spontaneously. In fact, we found one room for one night only (at an astronomical price), but it was very worth it. Being my nutball, driving-machine self, we still got lots of time there because we “simply” drove 5 hours to the other hotels!
Will mark 2022 calendar for return visit. 🙂 Meanwhile, off to Quito and beyond this Friday. Hasta luego!
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Green Global Trek said:
Just to mention… there are incredible hot springs near Quito. We wrote a post on them. Well worth the trip if you are a hot springs fan. It was amaxing!
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lexklein said:
They are on our list! We may not have time for them at the end of our time out in the countryside, but we will try!
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Cheryl Capaldo Traylor said:
Sounds interesting. Looks pretty cool. And it has a bookstore and pizza place! What more can I say? I think I’d have to see it for myself to say more:) Thanks for sharing your adventure. Great photos!
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lexklein said:
You definitely have to see it (and feel it) for yourself. It’s not for everyone, and I would imagine my own opinion might change each and every time I saw it. It’s cool and annoying and intriguing and weird all at the same time. The bookstore was small and art-oriented (but quite enjoyable for a short time) and the pizza was really to-die-for. I’m a pizza lover, and this was seriously good pizza!
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J.D. Riso said:
My gosh, the hipsters manage to infiltrate some far flung places. After reading this, I no longer believe that anywhere is safe, and now I especially fear for Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. I’ve never heard of Marfa. But (surprise, surprise) I’m pretty ignorant nowadays about the trendy places in America. Good for you for letting the vibe sink in in a positive way. I bet the countryside around the little town is exquisite desolation.
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lexklein said:
This place was on the map culturally way before the hipsters arrived. But they did arrive, and some of the pretension and annoyingness does derive from their presence. But so does a lot of the appeal. I never let people influence what I think of a place, and just as you said, the surrounding landscapes are exquisitely desolate and well worth the visit in themselves. I like dingy old towns, but I also like a few more modern amenities, both physical and cultural, and this had all that.
I’m not too worried about the UP for some inexplicable reason; I guess it’s no more remote than this, but it feels much too far far or cold or rough or something for large groups of outsiders to come in and really change it much. But what do I know? I would have never guessed a dried up town in the high desert would turn out this way either (although now that I type that, I think of Santa Fe and some of the other western arty communities). I’m babbling now! It’s an enigma for sure, and I like enigmas, so there you have it!
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J.D. Riso said:
I was never worried about the UP until recently when it made one of Lonely Planet’s best lists. And I’ve begun to hear whispers of “Marquette”…it’s become an artist hangout, too. (My step-grandma goes there for art retreats, but that’s her hometown, too) I’m like: “Noooooo! It sucks! Really! Go someplace else!” I still haven’t forgiven the hipsters for killing the vibe in the Budapest ruin pubs. I know I sound judgemental, and they do help the economy in these remote places. The UP sure could use it…so, okay, maybe they can have Marquette. The UP is big enough that, like the northern lower peninsula, there will be remote, wild areas probably forever. (Okay, now I’m babbling, too. Haha.)
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lexklein said:
I totally, totally get it. I want to keep all the really cool, authentic places under the radar of most outsiders, too. But … OK, we are both done babbling!
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Curt Mekemson said:
I tend to like far-out remote locations, Lexi, so I was taken in by your story. And if I get near Marfa again, I will definitely have to make it a destination instead of a drive through. I doubt it was a happening waiting to be discovered when I drove through in 2,000. Peggy and I had celebrated Christmas down at Big Bend National Park and were heading west to dip down into Baja where we would spend several weeks camped out on the gulf. Thanks for the tour! –Curt
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lexklein said:
Big Bend is on our radar for this coming summer! We had the (very old, immobile) dog with us this time, so we didn’t even try. Marfa was definitely happening in 2000! Donald Judd moved there from NYC in the 70s, and the art community has been around and growing ever since. It’s just so hidden you probably had no idea it was there. Heck, we KNEW it was there and didn’t see it right away!
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Curt Mekemson said:
Right you are, Lexi. We didn’t have a clue. It hardly made it onto our radar. Seems I remember one more dusty Texas town. If you are coming across on 90, be sure to make a quick stop in Langtry, if you haven’t already, and check out Judge Roy Beam’s saloon for a bit of Americana.
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Alison and Don said:
I’ve never heard of it but it sounds fascinating. I suspect that like you I’d be drawn into its mystery. Great post Lexie.
Alison
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lexklein said:
It trickled into my consciousness over the years, and once we moved down here, it has been calling me to visit. If I hadn’t had a push to get out of the house post-Christmas, I might have delayed longer, though. just because it’s so far. But my husband was game and with a few days off work, it was a great time to just shove off and go! (I do think you’d like it!)
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Green Global Trek said:
I am definitely a fan of any place in the U.S. that has none of the usual brand name stores that one sees everywhere! And that has a charm to be slowly doscovered much like peeling an onion. This place sounds very intriguing. Of course wherever artists go eventually others follow and gradually prices rise and the name brans sneak in. Sounds refreshingly different. I do love your photos which really capture the quirkiness of this place.
Peta
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lexklein said:
Thanks, Peta. I took out the color and/or faded the photos today to give the town the look it had in person – kind of old-time and worn out in spots. Certainly no brand name stores here – well, except for the jokey kind: the fake Prada and fake Target!
Julie and I talked about the cycle that artistic or creative communities go through (above in the comments) and it’s such a double-edged sword. The artists bring crowds, which change the vibe and raise prices, which drives out locals, but which can also sustain a place that might have died otherwise … and on and on.
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Bespoke Traveler said:
Some places don’t take kindly to passerby, some places want you to get to know them beyond the skin’s pale. Marfa sounds like such a town. I think of these places like wildlife: one has to approach quietly, cautiously, and with great respect in slim hopes of catching a glimpse of what’s underneath the facade.
As you and Julie already discussed, this is the dilemma of every community whether they be artistic or not. A place wants to encourage visitors to come see its aesthetics, but so often the rush of sightseers becomes a poison instead of the hoped for medicine.
Your photo of the barn is gorgeous, its color palette what I always see and feel myself when I’m in the southwest or plains portions of the United States.
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lexklein said:
I agree that becoming trendy can be a blessing and a curse, and I like your analogy to wildlife. The barn is actually an airplane hangar; the entire Chianti Foundation campus occupies a former army base just outside the main streets of town. The sky and land are big like they are in the Plains or Montana, and even that huge hangar loses its scale out there!
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CompassAndCamera said:
Love your gallery of the big concrete blocks, as well as the transformation of your level of interest. Seems quirky enough to warrant at least a day of exploring but I suspect my hubby might end up feeling just like yours did — ready to move on!
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lexklein said:
Thanks, Kelly – the blocks as a whole did sort of look like a turnpike maintenance staging area (haha), but individually and in the sun, they were kind of fun! We enjoyed the morning walk, at least, and the big hangars full of art out there in the field were very cool. The town itself has enough to do for a full day for sure, and surprise to me: after reading my post, J acknowledged that he might even agree to go back for a day when we go to Big Bend National Park this summer. (I think we’d both go back just for another one of those pizzas!)
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Dave Ply said:
For some reason, your hidden mysteries reminded me of a quick jaunt to Tangiers. Our hotel was found behind a nondescript wall matching every other wall in the neighborhood. The neighborhood itself seemed a bit seedy. But once behind the walls the courtyards opened up, the tile and handcrafted woodwork appeared, and we found ourselves in a pretty nice place. I’m also reminded of documentaries that suggest that underneath those burkas the ladies are wearing many a golden bangle.
Perhaps there is an aesthetic that suggests that outwardly we should be humble as that’s considered a fine trait, or simply to not rub ostentation into the faces of the lesser well off, but once behind the doors, party on!
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lexklein said:
That could be playing a part, Dave! My own read was that the locals have no interest in fixing things up inside or out (and they are still the majority), and the outsiders like the idea of simplicity and minimalism on the surface but need their amenities inside. It would be nice if humility were the motivation, but I’m a tad doubtful!
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awtytravels said:
I’m watching “The Big Lebowski” and it feels Marfa could very well be a place where Jeff Bridges could be strolling around in knickers, T-shirt, crocs and night-gown, hidden by a pair of sunglasses, with a bluegrass band playing a rendition of Bob Dylan’s “The Man in Me”. Too bad I didn’t visit when I was there!
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lexklein said:
Oh, god, yes – that is a scene that could really happen there. HA – I did not expect the Dude to be mentioned in my Marfa post! It IS too bad you couldn’t drive around a bunch while here in Texas, but I hope you at least took some backroads from Austin to Houston!
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awtytravels said:
Humm, backroads… Does I-71 count?
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lexklein said:
Sort of. But I-10 certainly doesn’t … I was hoping you took 290 through some horse and farm country. But you were no doubt in a hurry to get to NASA!
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awtytravels said:
More like following what the SatNav said!
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shoreacres said:
I’m really glad to read your impressions of this place. When I think of Marfa, I’ve always thought of the Marfa lights, and that’s been about it — until I learned that one of their big events every year is the return of the vultures around March. All things considered, I probably would prefer the vultures to the culture vultures, but I certainly wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to visit — provided I had the time or inclination to do so after exploring Big Bend.
There’s something about your description that makes me think of Taos and Santa Fe, or even Burning Man — probably the ne plus ultra of conspicuous cultural consumption. If you do get to Big Bend this year, it would be interesting to read your impressions of Marfa after another experience.
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lexklein said:
I’ve already mentioned in your comment section that we saw plenty of vultures on the road west last week; I can’t imagine even more of them!
I think Marfa slots in between the NM art towns and something like Burning Man. The former are more fully developed and the towns more groomed and upscale at this point, while the latter is still a bunch of art (and “art”) out in the desert with no real city infrastructure. But you are so right about the overall vibe – a little heavy on the culture/coolness quotient at times!
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Jolandi Steven said:
Oh, I love this small town encounter of yours, Lex. They do tend to have an interesting effect on the psyche. And clearly Marfa is luring you back, albeit solo. But I often find that solo trips add a special layer of exploration and observation.
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lexklein said:
Thanks – it was just what the doctor ordered for my mood dip right after the holidays. It was invigorating and relaxing in its simplicity at the same time.
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carolinehelbig said:
What a crazy, quirky little place that you’ve introduced us to. Your photos are wonderful and I particularly like the B&W ones that convey a certain moodiness.
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lexklein said:
Thanks! I was trying to be semi-artistic (ha) and convey the mood of this place somewhat out of time, so I used some B&W and I faded out the colors on some of the others. I’m glad to hear someone else appreciated the attempt! And yes, it was certainly a quirky place, which is always a fun type to explore!
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Tina Schell said:
What a great story to draw us in Lex – loved your phases of enjoyment vs your husband’s! I expect my story would be exactly the same :-). And I love that they’ve hidden their treasures away such that only the truly committed can find them.Loved the Target especially LOL
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lexklein said:
The Target is a recent attempt to garner some of the popularity of that iconic faux Prada store that’s been there for years. It was so bleak that day, and I thought the Target looked particularly lonely out there! It was definitely fun to uncover what the town had to offer.
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Liesbet said:
What an interesting and intriguing place. While I haven’t been to Marfa, your descriptions relate to me in regards to other places I visited that had to “grow” on me, like this one would, I assume. Makes you wonder how many towns and areas we drove through that we only blinked at, but that might have more potential. People live in these places for a reason, right?
It sounds like Marfa, because of publicity and books, has a reputation going for it that is similar to Ojai in California. Places like these fascinate and attract us, but, because of all the hype, might turn into a disappointment. The only way to know, as you point out, is to visit ourselves and experience the “magic” or the “dullness”.
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lexklein said:
So many good points, Liesbet! I know what you mean about locales like Ojai and other artsy places that attract hordes of visitors. Having been in both places, however, I think Marfa is so much more “regular” and plain on the surface; it’s only if you know what’s there (and for decades, few did know) that you feel the underlying vibe. Nowadays, I think more people are hearing about Marfa (there have been recent articles in the WSJ and the NYTimes, for example), and people are descending from the coasts in greater numbers. Time will tell if this is good or bad! (And even that will depend on one’s perspective, I suppose!)
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AndysWorldJourneys said:
I love a remote destination. It certainly seems both wild and odd all rolled into one. how many visitors does this place see?
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lexklein said:
I really don’t know, Andy, and if I weren’t on limited wifi in Ecuador, I’d look it up for you! I do know they do not advertise or “sell” the place much at all, so if you haven’t read a third-party article or heard about it online somehow, you might never learn of it.
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Fast Pam said:
Best town in Texas! Look up the Trans Pecos Music Festival and see if that interests you! Hiking around there is amazing too 🙂
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lexklein said:
I’m definitely going back. We had our super old dog with us, so we couldn’t take any real hikes this last time (although we did put her in a dog stroller and push her around town – geeks! but we love her!). Thanks for the music festival tip, too!
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Fast Pam said:
I had no idea how beautiful it was there. All those years in TX and I didn’t go once. Boo. You will LOVE exploring!
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Pam@thelifebus said:
I love Marfa sooooo much – as you know – I am glad it grew on you….the same thing happened to me. Even the last time we went last fall for a music festival, it rained, some of the music was weird, but we left looking forward to going back for the 3rd time!! Im glad you made it there!! There is definitely something magical about it,,,,,like your pizza experience, the outside looks disappointing, but there are all kinds of treasures to find inside. 🙂
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Pam@thelifebus said:
I just realized I commented on this back in the day. haha. My memory SUCKS.
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lexklein said:
Haha – I’ve done that, too! It’s weird because I don’t actually think most of my memory sucks, but sometimes what I read (or watch, like a movie) just doesn’t stick. I can’t tell you how many times I brought back a movie from Blockbuster (remember them? haha) only to have my husband say Ummmm, we have already seen that movie!
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lexklein said:
Now it’s been well over a year and a half and we haven’t made it back … it’s just so far to drive. We did fly to El Paso and drive all around there and NM last fall but never made the drive southeast to see Marfa again. I know we’ll get there, though – I just adored that long, lonely drive out there!
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