The Mysterious Art Haven of West Texas
Throughout my recent circuit of the United States, strangers urged me to skip over West Texas - citing the long, desolate drives. And while I appreciated the well-intentioned suggestions, I'm eternally grateful that I did not heed them. For if I did, I would have missed the mysterious art haven of Marfa, which ended up being one of the most unique places of the entire American saga.
Marfa embodies the "go it your own way" spirit of the Lone Star frontier, while also insisting on a politically and culturally defiant approach that so clearly differentiates it from much of the surrounding red state (sort of like Austin in the 90s, or so everyone says). If it weren't for the creative people (all of whom have been catalyzed by the spirit of Donald Judd), Marfa, Texas might just be another half-abandoned tumbleweed town. Instead, it is a half-abandoned bohemian enclave blessed with refreshingly-random attractions, supernatural lore, and relatively quick access to one of the most underappreciated national parks in the country.
The Mood
Depending on which street corner you pause on, Marfa, Texas might appear as a highway gas stop, a weathered ranching town with unusually vibrant murals, or an uncanny movie set filled with ambiguous store fronts. There are coffee shops that open at 7pm, cocktail lounges that are only open Thursday through Saturday but then are also closed when you go in on Friday because they're shooting an indie film, and art galleries that may or may not ever open, but whose very existence is itself the artistic expression. I don't know how any of the Austin refugees make any money here (note: other than the multi-generational cowboys and Mexican immigrants, the remainder of Marfa's 2,000 residents appear to be from the capital), but you have to love the spirited experiment.
The resulting blend of Marfa's differing personalities is a quiet, quirky, and communal vibe. I spent five days here, and always enjoyed kicking stones down the empty streets, feeling the sun of the Chihuahuan Desert on my face, and peering through front windows, investigating how such an isolated town can sustain its own radio station, or niche candy store, or fine dining establishments. My girlfriend went to a yoga class and she was the only one there. We both took a tour of the incomparable Chinati Foundation, where one additional couple was present. And we attended a live music performance at El Cosmico (a funky RV and safari-style tent campground), where only six others constituted the crowd. So it goes without saying, Marfa is not a party town. But I think the types of people who would drive all day (perhaps multiple days) across the Trans-Pecos plateau would be perfectly content with that fact. I, for one, was a happy camper, and the quality-over-quantity modus operandi evidently works for Marfans.
The Food
Marfa offers a mix of homestyle cooking, pub grub, and delightfully pretentious upscale dining. It doesn't get any better than scarfing down a Marfa Burrito in front of framed photos of the cocinera embracing Matthew McConaughey or Anthony Bourdain (see season 12, episode 5 of Parts Unknown) - just remember to bring cash and brush up on your Spanish before popping in (or just say, grande, picante, and gracias). The same homely vibe continues at Angel's Restaurant - a Mexican joint where locals sit shoulder to shoulder over plates of rice, beans and other essentials, or at Planet Marfa's beer garden where a tipi, an old school bus, and a spiral staircase leading to a small balcony make up just some of the seating. Spliced in between these laid-back eateries are swankier restaurants, such as Restaurant Cochineal or LaVenture at Hotel Saint George.
As alluded to before, Marfa also maintains an artisanal coffee scene. There is Big Sandy (housed within a defunct gas station), The Sentinel (housed within a stately, sheet-white, Alamo-esque building with an adjacent outdoor courtyard), Alta Marfa (the most coffee shop-like coffee shop in town), and the freshly Christened, evening-based, Bitter Sugar Coffee, which has carved out a niche for families and folks who want to leave the house at night, but don't feel like tossing back dive-bar beers or pricey cocktails.
The Foundation
The massive contemporary art installations at the Chinati Foundation are what put Marfa on the map. Opened in 1986, this 340-acre former military base features the works of visionary artist Donald Judd, as well as other select creatives. These enormous concoctions play with space, symmetry, stillness, and the unique qualities of the timeless spaces they inhabit. The projects are displayed on the grounds, within converted artillery sheds, and plunked in sporadic places around town (you might notice the faux Prada store sitting anachronistically on the side of the road on your way in or out).
Tour patrons are asked not to take pictures of the indoor displays, or to use outdoor photos for commercial use. So you'll simply have to pencil in a trip to Marfa in order to understand the scale of the dream Judd manifested after he left New York and moved to the middle of nowhere. The Chinati Foundation offers punctuated tours for people who just want to get an overview of the site and the man behind it all, or four-hour deep dives for true connoisseurs.
The Lights
Glowing orbs of various colors (and temperaments) regularly materialize at night in Marfa's southeast periphery. Multi-generation ranchers, Native Americans, and greenhorn visitors alike all have their own theories about what they are (some buzzkill skeptics chalk it up to misidentified headlights, but that doesn't satisfyingly account for sightings in demonstrably empty fields) but as of 2024, the phenomenon remains an unsolved mystery.
The Marfa Lights have gradually become another pillar of tourism for the already eclectic town. So much so that an annual namesake festival is held in their honor, and an official roadside viewing platform was erected to draw visitors to the hotbed vista. I didn't personally witness the levitating luminous anomalies, but I did have several enlightening conversations with locals who happily added intrigue to the lore. Whether or not you spot the science-eluding orbs, the lack of light pollution in Marfa's vicinity makes staring at the night sky an inspiring pastime.
The Bend
Marfa stands on its own merit, but if you've come all this way, then it only makes sense to tack on the three-hour drive to Big Bend National Park - a relatively short distance by Far West Texas standards. Despite constituting 800,000 acres of Chihuahuan Desert beauty (decorated by ancient seas, volcanoes, and dinosaur fossils), this National Park/UNESCO International Biosphere Reserve/International Dark Sky Reserve is still widely overlooked. With approximately half a million annual visitors, Big Bend National Park ranks in the bottom echelon compared to its U.S. peers. So given the immense and varied landscape, you are likely to have an isolated and immersive experience.
The End
One of my favorite movies is the Richard Linklatter indie flick, Slacker. It was shot on the cheap around the streets of Austin in the early 90s. Every year or two I would put it on and fantasize about visiting these lackadaisical settings, and lapping up the listless creativity of each person who comes into frame. Even though I got to visit the capital shortly after this stopover, I felt that Marfa better embodied the quietly rebellious sensibilities that I sought. The art was stimulating, and sort of uncanny, the food was meaningful, the people were either welcoming or passively distant (the two best social circumstances, really), and the setting, as a whole, eluded comparison. Though far removed from any surrounding hubs, I still feel Marfa's magnetism pulling from deep in the forgotten desert.
