They're out of toast.

Friday, November 23rd 2018

Marfa, TX

It’s 9am CST and I am waking up for day 3 of our Marfa vacation! Around 9:30am I meet my parents in the lobby for breakfast. The restaurant is packed. Mom points out a young Japanese couple, looking mildly uncomfortable in their cowboy hats and I am immediately charmed. 

After breakfast, Dad opts to stay at the lounge and watch football while Mom and I go shopping. Our first stop is a little store called Wrong. I read about it online and can’t tell if it’s a gift shop or a gallery. It’s only a block and a half from our hotel, but it takes nearly 10 minutes to find. Wrong is located on a residential street, in a house, with no sign. Go figure. 

Eventually, we enter. There is a woman and a younger guy behind the counter. The woman is obviously in charge and quickly announces that she needs to go take a shower. She asks if we need anything before she goes. Don't worry, I quip, we'll come find you.

The store is a really interesting mix of original art and handmade gifts. The prices are high and I feel like I just stepped into an Abbot Kinney boutique through a secret portal in the middle of the West Texas desert. I want to buy something on principle but I just can not stomach $500 for an 8 x 10 print. 

Next we wander up Highland Avenue to see what else Marfa has to offer. The plan is to walk to the courthouse at the end of the street. There is a lookout deck at the top; it’s only three stories tall, but we've been told that you can see the whole town. 

Soon we see a small sign that says Andy Warhol on it. It’s next to an oversized, sliding door. With great trepidation, I pull back the large door. Inside we find a single room gallery with a nice lady sitting at a small table. She explains this rotating exhibit is free to the public, courtesy of the Ayn Foundation. The gallery features 3 paintings from Andy Warhol’s last supper, a series that has over 100 pieces in total. It strikes me as strangely religious given what I know about Andy Warhol. Later I'll find out these paintings were Warhol's last before his unexpected death in 1987.   

Next door we find a similar gallery with the works of Maria Zerres. We learn that she is a German artist who finds inspiration from tragedy. This particular series is about September 11. 

As we continue towards the courthouse, we duck into a few gift shops. I am on the lookout for a t-shirt but end up buying a substantially overpriced sweatshirt instead. Mom buys some organic dog treats to bring home for Hyacinth, their miniature schnauzer.  

When we finally arrive at the courthouse, it is closed for the holiday. We are not surprised and decide to head back on the opposite side of the street. We stumble across another gallery, showing photography by Robert Frank. A series of informational panels explain that he is basically the father of street photography. I am definitely into this. There are 100s of photos and a handful of 8mm films running on loops. I am getting tired, but still manage spend nearly 30 minutes checking out his work. 

Soon we are back at the hotel. We reconvene with Dad and enjoy a long afternoon break and a few snacks before bundling up for the evening weather. 

Around 3pm, we walk over to a small coffee shop called Do Your Own Thing. The cafe has no sign and is only marked by a lone sandwich board in a gravel parking lot. The sign reads "coffee, toast and magic". Upon entrance, there is another sign explaining that they are out of toast. It takes almost 15 minutes to get our coffee. It's okay though, we relax at a long picnic table and take in the scene. 

The next stop is Ballroom Marfa, a gallery with rotating art, located across the street. We are not sure what to expect and find 3 rooms and a lone outdoor sculpture. The rooms are filled with abstract paintings and videos. There are no information panels to explain the context but the whole space has a distinct feeling of chaos. The heart of the exhibit, First Person Shooter, by Jibade-Khalil Huffman, is a medium sized room filled with various projected films designed to make you feel scared, uncomfortable and disoriented. We are the only ones in this room and I notice an unmarked door in the back corner. As I approach, I see that it’s partially open. I slowly push on the door, half expecting another Warhol painting. Inside I find a plain bathroom. Even the expected is unexpected in Marfa.

Next we gather in the truck and make the short drive to the Chinati for a special sunset viewing of a few key pieces of art. It turns out there are multiple installations and galleries located all over the place. The guy that sells us our tickets has to explain where we should go 3 times before we fully understand.

We start out at Donald Judd’s Untitled, 100 works in mill aluminum. One of the most famous permanent installations in Marfa, it spans 2 gutted artillery sheds in the middle of the desert and houses exactly 100 aluminum boxes. Dad, with a background in materials science, has a lot to say about the thickness of the aluminum, how it interacts with the environment and the construction of the boxes themselves. At one point, our docent explains that the boxes were constructed at a mill and that Judd only designed them. Dad is visibly disappointed by this news; he was just starting to appreciate the art of Marfa.

The sun is setting quickly, so we walk over to Judd’s 15 untitled works in concrete, which spans a little bit over half a mile. We don’t have much time, so we approach the very large exhibit somewhere in the middle and stroll up it's dirt road towards the parking lot. The concrete boxes are light gray, smooth and  taller than we are. Dad talks about the quality of the concrete and I muse on the interaction of the art and the landscape. Mom waits patiently as we analyze each box.     

By the time we get back to the hotel, it’s dark and cold outside. We are ready for an early dinner. The hotel restaurant is packed and we are lucky to snag a table in the corner after only a few minutes of waiting. Our server is awesome and lets us order from the formal dining room instead of the bar. I get steak frites and creamed spinach. My meal is great and we even have a perfect view of the TV to watch college football. 

We spend the rest of the evening in the lounge, sipping wine and occasionally talking over the game. Today turned out to be a good day for both art and football.