Collection by Amanda Dameron
Two Days in Marfa, Texas
It requires a long and dusty trek across the desert to reach Marfa,Texas. Situated 200 miles from El Paso, Marfa is a little burg in west Texas with a population of 2,200 and a thriving community culture steeped in modern art and architecture. I traveled there to meet with the inimitable designer Barbara Hill, whose Marfa residence, a renovated turn-of-the-century dance hall, will be featured in an upcoming issue of Dwell. She squired me around, showed me the sights and introduced me to this unique and vibrant arts community. While I only had two days, admittedly not nearly enough time, I captured a few shots of a most unusual place.
While Marfa has a long military history and has served as a popular destination for movie crews, it was artist Donald Judd that put Marfa on the map. He began buying buildings here in the 1970s, working with New York's DIA Foundation to find a permanent home for his large-scale pieces. He purchased 340 acres that once belonged to the military—in fact German POW's were housed here after World War II—and used existing artillery sheds and barracks to house his installations. Here we see his fifteen untitled works in concrete, which he placed from 1980-86. Each structure was poured on-site, and though I wanted to get closer, I was warned that it was rattlesnake season. No thanks.
In 1986 Judd parted ways with DIA and the Chinati Foundation was born. Here we see one of two artillery sheds that Judd rehabbed with a new Quonset-style roof and new quartered windows—additions that doubled the proportions of both structures and provided a light-filled space for his 100 milled-aluminum works.
We caught the tail end of the exhibition "In Lieu of Unity", curated by Alicia Ritson. It was an assemblage of photographs, sculptures, video, and other media, all created by contemporary artists from Mexico. I longed to lounge inside the suspended daybed constructed of rubber wires, but time was of the essence and there still was much to see. Also, I am not sure I would have been able to get out.
We ended our Marfa tour at Cochineal, which like most of Marfa's businesses is housed within a century-old adobe. Co-owners Tom Rapp and Toshifumi Sakihara, former New Yorkers, did an outstanding job on both the menu and the interior design. I especially loved the ribbons of felt that run the length of the ceiling—I thought it an original and sculptural way to diminish the din of dining-related noise.
On my way out of town, I stopped along the side of an empty highway to shoot the Prada Marfa, a permanent installation created by Michael Elmgreen and Ingar Dragset in 2005. Standing alone in the middle of nowhere, the locked building holds actual Prada merchandise (right-foot-only shoes and handbags without bottoms, to deter vandalism and theft) and is constructed of adobe and MDF. I thought the intentional juxtaposition of tongue-in-cheek high-end design against the backdrop of the west Texas desert expanse was a fitting end to my time in Marfa. Truly a most unusual place.