Every movement has to start somewhere. For the #RedForEd teachers who rose up in Arizona this spring, it began with Twitter and T-shirts. A conversation online between an outspoken music teacher and the head of the Arizona Education Association led to an idea: What if teachers wore red shirts to school in a show of solidarity for increased pay and school funding? Before too long, educators were holding demonstrations outside their school buildings. They began strategizing about demands. And in April, the #RedForEd movement pulled off a weeklong teachers' strike, closing schools across the state for the first time in Arizona history. Governor Doug Ducey, relenting to one of their main demands, gave teachers a 20 percent pay increase to take effect over the next three years. The movement suffered a blow when the Arizona Supreme Court knocked the Invest in Ed initiative from the ballot in late August. But don't count #RedForEd out yet. Teachers have vowed to support pro-education candidates at the ballot box in November. As it turns out, this year the most important lesson for Arizona teachers was a crash course in direct democracy.
It may have been Joe Arpaio's best interview in 25 years of politicking. The former Maricopa County sheriff has dropped enough bombshells during interviews over the years to flatten the Barry M. Goldwater Air Force Range. (Remember when he told Lou Dobbs it was an "honor" to be compared to the KKK?) Nothing he's done on TV in the past, however, tops his R-rated appearance with comedian Sacha Baron Cohen on Showtime's Who is America? While he was still running his failed campaign for the U.S. Senate, Arpaio got tricked by Cohen into appearing on the show, thinking Cohen was a YouTube star from Finland. Anyone in their right mind would have pegged Cohen as a kidder, but Arpaio, 86, has been steadily losing his mind for years. When Cohen asked Arpaio if he thought President Donald Trump has had a "golden shower," the ex-sheriff didn't reflect back to the news coverage of the past year. Instead, he told Cohen it wouldn't surprise him. The punch line of the show came when Cohen asked Arpaio what he'd say if Trump offered him "an amazing blowjob." To the delight of nearly everyone, Arpaio responded that he "may have to say yes." Maybe it was a Freudian slip, but Arpaio probably had no idea what Cohen was talking about. He might not have even known what day it was. But Arpaio's last major interview will be racking up views on YouTube for years to come.
Not even Tom Bodett could have put a positive spin on this story after Phoenix New Times reporters Antonia Noori Farzan and Joseph Flaherty combed through thousands of court records to uncover a pattern: Immigrations and Customs Enforcement agents regularly showed up at one of two corporate-owned Motel 6s in Phoenix to arrest guests who had been deported but had re-entered the country illegally. Our reporters learned that the motels were sending their full guest lists every night to ICE, whose agents were comparing them to the names they had of undocumented immigrants, then making more than 20 arrests when they found matches. The story went viral, and within 24 hours Motel 6 said that it was ending its policy of handing over guest lists, and that the practice had been limited to only two motels in Phoenix. However, in January, the attorney general of Washington state announced that, based on our reporting, his office began an investigation and found at least six more Motel 6 properties that had been handing over information on more than 9,000 guests in that state. The Columbia Journalism Review called Farzan and Flaherty's reporting "an advertisement for alt-weeklies." We like to think of that reporting as shining a light on Motel 6 and leaving it on.
Progressive state representative Athena Salman has been killing it this year. To start, she represents Arizona's 26th legislative district, which includes the cities of Tempe, Mesa, Phoenix, and the Salt River Pima Maricopa Indian Community. She gained further notice from those not already paying attention when she introduced House Bill 2222, otherwise known as the #LetItFlow campaign, which highlighted how incarcerated women were given just 12 sanitary pads a month. Salman, an Arizona State University magna cum laude graduate, has continued the year supporting the #RedForEd movement, LGBTQ equality, women's rights, and many more issues.
Some power couples seek out fame and fortune. This duo just want to make Arizona more equitable for everyone. Often spotted in the halls of the state Capitol, Marilyn Rodriguez is a founder of the progressive lobbying firm Creosote Partners, and works tirelessly to advance environmental causes and criminal justice reform. Meanwhile, Joel Edman runs the Arizona Advocacy Network, a nonpartisan group fighting voter suppression. The do-gooders got engaged last December, and we couldn't be happier for them — and their adorable rescue dog.
With so much craziness emanating from the White House, it can be tough to keep up to date with what's happening closer to home. That's why we're so grateful for The Breakdown, a weekly podcast in which some of Arizona's sharpest political reporters help us get caught up with the latest developments at the state Capitol. Host and producer Katie Campbell got her start in public radio, and her peppy delivery keeps us coming back for more. Listeners agree, with one iTunes reviewer calling it "an Arizona-only version of the NPR Politics podcast, detailed, objective, and entertaining." Whether the topic is opioid addiction or education funding, the discussion is always informative, but never overly wonky or insider-y.
When he's not busy fighting for the civil rights of Arizona's growing Muslim population, CAIR-Arizona president Imraan Siddiqi is dunking on conservatives on Twitter, where he excels at deploying sarcastic one-liners and finding the perfect GIF for any situation. With over 38,000 followers, he's one of the loudest voices in the state when it comes to speaking up against all forms of discrimination. He's used his platform to raise money for a vandalized Jewish cemetery, and to fight for the prosecution of two women who filmed themselves mocking Muslims and stealing Korans from a Tempe mosque. But he's also just plain funny. "E-coli will be a great time, after I finish my stint in the hospital for salmonella," he cracked in response to a conservative commentator's claim that Nikki Haley would make a great first female president after Trump's first term.
Bob Stump spent 26 years representing Arizona in Congress before he died in 2003. Then, in late 2017, Bob Stump announced that he'd be running for the seat vacated by Representative Trent Franks, possibly to the confusion of elderly voters in the 8th Congressional District. No, Bob Stump hadn't risen from the dead — this was Christopher Robert Stump, a Hawaii-born Harvard graduate who conveniently started going by "Bob" right around the time that he got involved in Arizona politics. After Bob Stump's widow accused the younger Bob Stump of misleading voters, his mother jumped into the fray, insisting that he had every right to use the name. Their feud ended after the Republican primary, when Stump received less than 6 percent of the vote. Name recognition only gets you so far.
"We Need a Mom to Clean Up the House." That's the tagline that Milena "Millie" Bucci, a Democratic candidate for the Arizona House of Representatives, chose for her campaign to replace Representative Don Shooter, who had been accused of sexual harassment by numerous women. While the play on words was undeniably clever, the slogan also smacked of gender essentialism — after all, in 2018, do we really want to assume that only women and mothers are capable of doing basic household tasks? Before she could land a spot on the ballot, though, Bucci dropped out of the race. And Shooter ended up getting ousted from the House after Speaker J.D. Mesnard called for his expulsion — proving that men, too, are capable of rolling up their sleeves and dealing with a mess.
Arizona's departing junior senator has a weird knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time — or the right place at the right time, depending on how you look at it. First, there was the baseball game in Alexandria, Virginia, where a lone gunman opened fire and shot Louisiana Congressman Steve Scalise. Flake immediately rushed over and applied pressure to the wound until paramedics arrived, then called Scalise's wife so that she wouldn't find out about the shooting through the news. Then, in January, Flake was on his way to a GOP retreat in Virginia with other Republican lawmakers when their train collided with a garbage truck. Unscathed, he immediately began helping to treat the injured passengers. What's next for Flake after his retirement from the Senate is unclear, but we're guessing that it might mean some volunteer stints as an EMT.
Smack-dab in the middle of the #MeToo movement against sexual harassment and general male asshole-ism, Republican Congressman Trent Franks got caught in a sexual misconduct scandal and resigned. Steve Montenegro and nine other GOP candidates decided to run for his seat, and for a while, Montenegro was the leader. He'd had a short but successful career in the Arizona Legislature, with a stint as Republican Majority Leader of the Senate. If you think a holier-than-thou politician who works part-time as a preacher has something to hide, you'd be right. The family man was sharing bawdy text messages with the Senate's social media coordinator, who used her skills to send Montenegro at least one topless photo on Snapchat. Montenegro looked like the biggest boob in town for a week or so after someone leaked the texts to the media. Who leaked it and why? The answer proved elusive. But the damage was done when the story hit the papers, and Montenegro's star fell. Voters elected Debbie Lesko to Congress. Hint to other high-profile Don Juans: Just because you put your sex fantasies on Snapchat doesn't mean they'll disappear. But your political aspirations just might.
Sixty years of newspapering under the moniker Scottsdale Progress came to a screeching halt 10 years ago when, in October 2008, the parent company of the local East Valley Tribune announced devastating changes to the local journalism scene. Besides laying off half the staff, the Trib dropped coverage of Scottsdale and Tempe, though it had carried the banner of the old Scottsdale Progress and Tempe Daily News. In a surprise announcement this year, Steve Strickbine of Times Media Group, the new publisher and owner of the East Valley Tribune, said he planned to bring back the Scottsdale Progress, with new editions hitting the racks starting on September 16. Now, will the new Progress be like the one where Pulitzer Prize winners Ryan Gabrielson and Paul Giblin worked in the mid-2000s? No, at least not at first. Instead of a daily newspaper, it'll be a weekly freebie on Sunday. Strickbine as yet has been focused on selling ads and keeping his newspaper-acquisition operation alive, with editorial that hasn't tried to set the world on fire. Still, if anyone tells you that print's dead, show them a copy of the resurrected Scottsdale Progress.
Arizona has had several #MeToo issues by this time. But the case of Don Shooter helped set the bar at proper Arizona depth. Shooter had a good run in the state Legislature, but only because Harvey Weinstein had not yet happened. Shooter was known to be a serious horndog and lech — a guy who never let an emotion come between him and a crass wisecrack, especially if the target was a woman. As former Arizona Republic publisher Mi-Ai Parrish later related, when he met her, he quipped that his one regret in life was failing to nail "Asian twins." But she didn't say anything. It wasn't until well after Weinstein, but just before Matt Lauer, that women, starting with state Representative Michelle Ugenti-Rita, finally came forward publicly to out Shooter as the harasser he was. The Legislature commissioned an investigation that released a damning report in January that concluded Shooter had created a hostile work environment at the state Capitol. House Speaker J.D. Mesnard asked Shooter to resign, but, true to form, Shooter stood his ground and tried to play the part of a political victim. The House voted 56-3 to oust him, forcing Shooter to take his disgraced nameplate back to Yuma. One problem: The law didn't prevent Shooter from running for office again, which he did. Voters chose the clear solution and sent him packing in the August primary election.
Kevin DeMenna is one of those longtime fixtures in the Arizona Legislature, a lobbyist who's outlasted many of the once-famous newsmakers he wined and dined. DeMenna Public Affairs started in 1998. He ran into trouble a few years ago, though, and was found with pot and opiates in his car. He'd let his addiction to pills get the best of him — he said he got hooked while trying to cope with the pain of an old rodeo injury. But he came back after his sons, Joe and Ryan, formed a new company in 2017. The trio handle all sorts of clients, but they're best known for representing the Arizona Dispensary Association, a group of politics-minded medical-marijuana store operators. In April, the DeMenna family created a buzz in the cannabis industry with a photo tweeted by Governor Doug Ducey's office showing them and dispensary representatives around a large table with the famously anti-cannabis governor. The DeMennas say they want to help the dispensaries work with the Republican-leaning government to make changes to the 2010 medical-marijuana law that many see as overdue, such as a lower patient card fee and testing for contaminants. The family that sways (opinion) together, stays together.
Former revenge-porn operator Craig Brittain — a conspiracy theorist and fringe Arizona Senate candidate — has experienced many low points. There was the time when he was forced to settle with the Federal Trade Commission after operating a website that extorted women in exchange for deleting nude photos of them posted online. Then there was his unsuccessful 2018 bid for Senator Jeff Flake's seat, when Brittain failed to obtain the required number of signatures to get on the ballot. ("This is a rigged sham and cannot even be considered an election at this point," Brittain told Phoenix New Times in a text message.) But perhaps the greatest blow to Brittain was when his favorite social network, Twitter, deleted his account (for the second time) in March. Twitter is often criticized for a hands-off approach when it comes to bigots and trolls, but it seems like the network has had enough of Brittain. Shortly before Twitter deep-sixed his account, Brittain was tweeting vile conspiracy theories about the teenage survivors of the school shooting in Parkland, Florida. Good riddance, Craig.
Arizona charter schools are supposed to be open to everyone. They can't discriminate against prospective students on the basis of gender, ethnicity, disability, or language proficiency. But as it turns out, some charter schools were ignoring state law. In a December 2017 report titled "Schools Choosing Students," the Arizona chapter of the American Civil Liberties Union revealed that a shocking number of charter schools use exclusionary enrollment policies. Families attempting to enroll their child in charter schools faced essays, interviews, requests for a birth certificate or Social Security number, and fees. Some schools asked whether the prospective student had a disability or special education needs, and others asked about the primary language spoken at home. The ACLU argued that these hurdles are unacceptable, and last spring advocates showed up to lobby the Arizona State Board for Charter Schools. Apparently, the board was listening. In June, officials reviewed enrollment policies and mandated changes at almost 100 charter schools. The ACLU says that more oversight is needed. Nevertheless, the campaign achieved an impressive outcome: a fairly quick response from a board that has been criticized for a laissez-faire approach to charter schools.
A bill that would provide unlimited menstrual supplies to women in Arizona prisons stalled in the House because Representative T.J. Shope, a Republican from Coolidge who chairs the House Rules Committee, wouldn't put it on the agenda. #LetItFlow activists, outraged that female inmates received only 12 sanitary pads a month, took matters into their own hands by sending pads, tampons, and cash to purchase feminine hygiene products to the Arizona Department of Corrections, by way of Shope's office. Well, that unblocked the process. Within days, the ADC changed its policy, increasing the number of pads per inmate to 36 per month. Naturally, Shope, a man, took credit for the success: "When I became aware of this issue, I reached out to ADC and urged them to change the policy and they now have!" he wrote in a self-congratulatory press release. Oh, yeah, at the bottom of the statement he acknowledged that Democratic Representative Athena Salman, a woman, had actually introduced the legislation that he had previously derailed. We'll excuse Shope's slight as a case of MPS — Manly Power Shit.
The boys and girls in the state Legislature had this great gig going. The Arizona Constitution apparently prohibited the arrest of legislators during or right before a session "in all cases except treason, felony, and breach of the peace or shooting someone on Fifth Avenue." (Okay, we added that last one.) In other words, legislators could pretend they were Indy car drivers going to and from work. But then state Representative Paul Mosley spoiled their little secret by pulling the immunity card on a sheriff's deputy who clocked the Republican from Havasu City traveling 97 mph in a 55 mph zone. Mosley even bragged to the deputy that he had been driving 120 mph earlier and sometimes hit 140. The deputy let him go, and no one would have been the wiser except for that damn body cam. The video of the stop went viral, and that meant that Daddy, i.e. Governor Doug Ducey, found out. Uh-oh. The governor whacked Mosley and other legislators with a sternly worded statement. "No one is above the law, and certainly not politicians. Everyone should know that, but clearly a reminder is needed," Ducey said. Then, the governor grounded the speed demons with an executive order empowering state law enforcement officers to cite elected officials for criminal violations such as speeding or reckless driving. No word if he's going to prevent them from going to the prom.
David Stringer is the gift that keeps on giving Phoenix New Times more internet traffic. He created his first digital sensation in 2017 when, according to fellow legislator Jesus Rubalcava, the Prescott Republican with the bad toupee told a group of businesspeople and educators that teachers are paid well enough because they have an easy, part-time job that doesn't require a specific skill set. And they get two months off in the summer. (That set social media on fire.) Then, he acknowledged earlier this year that the job might have a certain degree of difficulty because, as he told attendees at a Yavapai County Republican Men's Forum, "there aren't enough white kids to go around" in Arizona schools. He blamed the problem on immigration, which he called "an existential threat to the United States" and "politically destabilizing." That prompted even staunch Republicans like Governor Doug Ducey to call for Stringer to resign. He did not. In fact, he doubled down on his anti-immigration stance in a campaign ad, claiming immigration "creates a permanent underclass and traps people in poverty." Apparently, there were still enough white, non-teacher Republican voters to go around in the Legislative District 11 primary because they voted for him to run again in the fall.
Bike-share services are a good idea in theory. Riders can use their smartphone to pay to rent a bike, then leave it at their destination without having to return it. It saves money compared with car ownership, and reduces carbon emissions. In reality, certain parts of metro Phoenix have become a bike-share wasteland, with abandoned two-wheelers left anywhere and everywhere you can think of. It'd be kind of funny if it wasn't so annoying. The Instagram account @litterbikesofaz shares our opinion; its feed is jammed with photos of sad, discarded bikes (and parts of bikes) hanging from fences, lying in roadways, and dumped in canals. Next time you see one, take a picture and send it in.
When local poet Jared Duran first started doing his Limited Engagement podcast, it was an excuse for him to pick the brains of some of Phoenix's finest writers. Duran's podcast quickly expanded beyond that scope as he started interviewing musicians, journalists, theater people — even relatively big names like Soft Boys frontman/U.K. cult songwriter Robyn Hitchcock. Like all the best podcasts, a lot of the charm comes from the host. Duran's a rambler, in the best possible way: The intros to his shows can often be 10 minutes long as he weighs in on the Valley's cultural scene and on the things that are on his mind. His interviews also share that digressive feeling, as conversations often detour into surprising territory. And now that Duran has started his own publishing imprint and co-hosts a second podcast, Hoot N Review, with writer Jenna Duncan, he's got a whole lot more to talk about.
The current KJZZ schedule airs The Show at 9 a.m., so if you're well into your day of meetings and conference calls by then, we'll tell you what you're missing. The Show is a collection of oral news stories and features focusing on the Phoenix area, as well as Maricopa County, the state, and the country at large. Hosts Mark Brodie, Lauren Gilger, Steve Goldstein, and Tiara Vian — backed by their small but effective team of producers and reporters — cover everything from making Phoenix a "soccer town" to the Valley's air quality to Planned Parenthood AZ to the adventures of Don Shooter. If you really can't catch it live, we have two podcast suggestions: KJZZ's The Show and KJZZ's The Show: Friday Newscap.
Russ Kazmierczak is a nerdy Renaissance man. He writes, draws, and publishes his own comics as Amazing Arizona Comics; he's a microphone fiend at karaoke; he produces an annual Jack Kirby birthday show; and is part of a Frasier tribute band. He also has a deep and abiding passion for the oeuvre of The Monkees that would probably net him a restraining order if he wasn't so charming about it. But one of the things that Kazmierczak does best is tell stories. Whether it's at storytelling events such as Untidy Secrets, poetry open mics, or a variety show, he tells true-life tales that are honest, affecting, and deeply hilarious. And whereas most tellers are content with just talking onstage, Kazmierczak often accentuates his stories with live drawing, musical accompaniment, and even projects short films and videos on walls using his cellphone. Sometimes he'll even bust out his impressively extensive collection of He-Man toys and narrate elaborate toy fights in front of a live audience. If that doesn't deserve an award all by itself, we don't know what does.
There are plenty of comedians in the Valley with tight fives, but how many of them can say they've created a holiday? In addition to possessing one of the sharpest tongues and fastest wits in Phoenix, comic Anwar Newton is the creator of that most glorious of high holy days: Ja Rule Day, that blessed day on December 9 on which people across the nation pay tribute to Mr. Livin' It Up with thousands of "IT'S MURDA" jokes. But Newton is more than the originator of a fun meme holiday. He's also one of the creative forces behind Literally the Worst Show Ever, one of the best recurring comedy shows in Arizona. A mix of stand-up, character work, and hilarious videos, LTWSE's ambitions and production values put most other comedy nights to shame. And when Newton isn't hosting LTWSE, he's co-hosting a weekly late-night comedy show with Michael Turner called This Week Sucks, Tonight! He also has a killer routine about why you should be worried if you see your doctor drinking from a Polar Pop cup.
Valley resident Scott Godlewski knows a thing or three about creating comics. For proof, load up the latest episode of The Illustrious Gentlemen podcast, where he and fellow artist Ryan Cody drop a dime every week on the inner workings of the sequential art industry, including how to make it in the biz. And Godlewski speaks from experience, considering he's been penciling and inking superheroes for major publishers like DC for going on a decade. (His all-too-brief stints on the post-Rebirth version of Superman and Batwoman are pretty great). Where he really shines is in the pages of Copperhead, the space Western yarn he co-created for Image Comics in 2014 with writer Jay Faerber. Godlewski's finely detailed lines and moody shading gives life to the homespun noir of a no-nonsense female sheriff grappling with mysterious circumstances on a backwater planet. The title's been an artistic and commercial success so far, earning him praise from both fans and critics alike. Way to go, Godlewski.
People may not think of Phoenix as a "poetry town," but there's been a thriving lit scene here for over a decade. Poetry slams, zine fests, Arizona State University literary conferences — there's something for everyone. If you're a writer looking for an open mic to share your work, woodshed some material, and meet fellow wordsmiths, you've got plenty of happenings to choose from. But if you really want to step up your lit game, you'll get your ink-stained butt over to Caffeine Corridor pronto. Hosted by scene vets Jack Evans, Shawnte Orion, and Bill Campana, Caffeine Corridor happens every second Friday of the month. It starts with an open mic and caps off with two feature sets. Some open mics pride themselves on being "page" poet events (for more academic verse and prose) while others put the focus on performances, but C.C. is the rare mic that welcomes both approaches. They usually book one featured poet each month from both camps, creating a varied and unpredictable evening of spoken word. They also book out-of-town features, making C.C. a great destination for being exposed to new work outside your community.
This handsome production had its problems, like the fact that its principal cast bellowed most of their lines rather than simply speaking them. But this Chapter Two gave us the rare opportunity to watch a play directed by the woman who inspired it, one written by her ex-husband. Actress Marsha Mason, to whom the late playwright Neil Simon was married when he wrote Chapter Two — a play about a recent widower who marries a long-suffering divorcee — directed this version. Mason's fine cast included Davis Mason (no relation to Marsha), a charmer who brought a menu of emotions, each more sincere than the last, as well as the production's best performance.
Playwright Lucas Hnath drags out some juicy Walt Disney legends in his caustic comedy — that old bit about Disney's head being cryogenically preserved, the one about lemmings being hurled from a cliff top during a nature documentary shoot. But it was iTheatre co-founder Christopher Haines's efficient direction and austere and practical set design that brought this work to life. Haines created the illusion of action from four players who are mostly sitting stock-still in office chairs in a showbiz pitch room. Hnath's staccato, overlapping dialogue and repetitive rhythms made a quagmire of half-finished sentences, but Haines and a fine cast created a startling homage to pathology and the dangers of egoism that deserved 90 minutes of our time.
Only Katie McFadzen could pull off playing bitchy Mrs. Cratchit, sickly-sweet Tiny Tim, and that blowhard Ghost of Christmas Present, while also making something of Charles Dickens' 173-year-old narration in a one-woman production of A Christmas Carol. McFadzen adapted the script herself, from the original text, with the help of director Matthew Wiener. It played last winter at Tempe Center for the Arts, and was way more than a recitation, even while it quoted great hunks of the Dickens novella. Rather than inhabit each character, McFadzen described them with distinct voices and slightly altered stature — a subtle trick that elevated this 80-minute adaptation, turning a how-did-she-do-that curiosity into a tidy entertainment.
The Best Man is a long, talky peek behind the scenes of a presidential primary in 1960 Philadelphia. Gore Vidal's preachy play can be a snooze, but Compass Players wedged a nice production onto the stage of Peoria Center for the Performing Arts last winter. At its center, a pair of presidential candidates duke it out for a top political spot, but audiences were distracted, in this production directed by the late Jeanna Michaels, by actor Jeffrey Middleton, who should not be allowed on any stage where other performers are meant to be seen. Here, he was a campaign manager named Blades, equal parts Wallace Beery and Daddy Warbucks, who stomped through every scene, chewing scenery and waving his arms and radiating comedy even in repose. While our memories of the other performances in this and other plays might fade, Middleton's scene-stealing Blades lingers on.
Now an annual dance tradition, Breaking Ground pairs high-quality contemporary dance performance and dance films to reveal and punctuate the breadth and depth of contemporary dance in and beyond metro Phoenix. It's the brainchild of Carley Conder, artistic director for CONDER/dance. Conder founded the festival back in 2008, and it's still going strong. Breaking Ground 2018 was particularly powerful, because so many of its choreographers captured the zeitgeist at play both within and beyond the world of dance — including the focus on women's agency over their own bodies, emotions, ideas, and actions. For a dance community that lacks resources, even as it competes with big-budget entertainment, the festival reminds Phoenix audiences of the talent in our own midst, but also encourages choreographers, dancers, and other creatives to innovate and grow in new directions.
All eyes were on the #MeToo movement this year, raising women's voices against sexual abuse and the systems that help to perpetuate it. Into that ethos, choreographer, dancer, and photographer Jenny Gerena injected a new dance work called Woman, Do You Fear?, which premiered at the 2018 Breaking Ground dance festival at Tempe Center for the Arts. Inspired in part by the instincts of wolves, it explored "feminist perspectives on dominance, protection, solitude, and solidarity" within the context of women's freedom and support for fellow women. For the first BlakTina Dance Festival in Phoenix, she performed Self-Portrait of a Dying Soul, which gave voice to the death grip of dominant culture on women of color. Gerena uses the female body, including her own dark, free-flowing hair, to write the poetry of women's strength and solidarity through movement.
Nayon Iovino knows his way around neurons. They're the brain cells that receive, process, and transmit information. And they're all about connectivity, which inspired Iovino's Threads, a new dance work that premiered during Today's Masters, performed by Ballet Arizona at the Orpheum Theatre in March. He's danced with the company since 2012. And he's choreographed more than 10 new dance works featured in Ballet Arizona seasons since then, starting with Inner Layer in 2014. Like Ib Andersen, artistic director for Ballet Arizona, he's a master at blending classical and contemporary ballet — infusing works with humor and drama to channel the mysterious complexities of connections within the human psyche even as he explores the connections forged between one person and another.
The word "interactive" had become a buzzword in contemporary art, used far too frequently for art that doesn't deliver on that promise. But that's not the case with works by Valeska Soares, whose "Any Moment Now" exhibition at Phoenix Art Museum included the periodic temporary installation of sculptural pieces made with taffy. On Saturday, March 24, for example, a trio of large taffy pieces hung from three metal poles placed near the entrance to the exhibition, constantly formed into new shapes by gloved museum professionals who offered small pieces to onlookers. Each sculpture, created in collaboration with New York-based Kreëmart, had a different color, aroma, and taste — created by pairing flavors such as blood orange, bergamot, and lavender. Plenty of conceptual conversations revolve around consuming art, but Soares gave the issue a new twist with works that could actually be chewed, swallowed, and digested by museum visitors. Talk about being one with the art.
Some of the most intriguing works pair artists working in different fields. That's just what happened when visual artist Patricia Sannit and dance artist Nicole Olson started working together at Phoenix Art Museum. While Sannit's "Rise Fall Rise" exhibition was on view at the museum, she invited Olson to choreograph a site-specific performance inspired by one particular installation called The Dance (La danza). Olson created a piece called Eternal Home, then performed it amid the installation while museumgoers gathered around. They vowed that day to work together again, and that's just what they did — during FORM Arcosanti in May. It's easy for artists to get so busy making their own work that they forget to experience time with other creatives. But when they do, magic happens, for artist and audience alike.
Modern existence can be frustrating, to say the least, and there's only so much that therapy, scented candles, and meditation apps can do to mellow us out. Which is why we dig the concept of Simply Smashing Rage Room, a small space in a Tempe strip mall where we can work through our emotions by breaking stuff. When we arrive, we have our choice of what to break, as well as what to break it with, which creates dozens of possibilities — we can break dishes with a crowbar, computer monitors with a golf club, or lamps with a baseball bat. After a session, someone else handles the cleanup, and we emerge into the sunshine with a much rosier outlook on life.
Ann Morton launched her "Proof Reading" series in 2017 with a hand-made handkerchief embroidered with the phrase "are we fucked?" — modified through editing marks to say "we are fucked." Now her second work in the series, inspired this year by Donald Trump's "shithole" remark, is the year's best political art. Once again, Morton has used tasteful red, white, and blue materials to address the brutality that's rife in the age of Trump. With a single word, transformed from "shithole" to "asshole" through editing marks, she gives voice to those resisting Trump and his ilk. There's no shortage of Trump-inspired artwork, but Morton's work is distinguished by its elegant simplicity, which profoundly whispers to viewers even as they live within a perpetual primal scream for truth and justice.
Artists and community members gathered around a steamroller in the Bentley Projects parking lot on March 18, for an informal celebration of community and culture. Led by master printer Damian Charette, more than a dozen Native, Latino, and Chicano artists demonstrated the art of printmaking, creating designs that were transferred to cloth using the steamroller moving across them on the pavement. Artists worked with the themes of solidarity and unity, making prints with images from hearts to the Statue of Liberty, then hung them on a nearby chain-link fence in the style of a collective mural. The gathering drew a diverse crowd, whose time spent rallying around art together signaled their collective power to shape their shared community.
Head to Hazel & Violet during First or Third Friday, and you'll find a bustling scene complete with creatives sharing lively conversations while eager visitors try their hand at making custom coasters. Other times, you'll find folks checking out an impressive assortment of options for invitations, announcements, and stationery. Proprietor Nancy Hill manages to blend it all into a seamless seduction of the written word. The shop's walls are filled with posters that jab, inspire, and perplex. And Hill, who heads the print crew, has a glorious combination of expertise and warmth. She's even got an impressive collection of working presses, made between 1922 and 1968. Best of all, her passion for the printing press, and the Grand Avenue community she's a part of, is delightfully contagious.
Plenty of people wish they'd met up with Picasso or Kahlo during their early years. That's one reason ASU Grant Street Studios is such a local treasure. The converted warehouse is home to studios for more than 50 graduate art students working in diverse media such as painting, ceramics, fiber art, and photography. For two days in March, ASU held an Open Studios event at Grant Street Studios, which featured demonstrations, exhibitions, and studios open to the public — where art nerds could go behind the scenes, talk with artists about their work, and see artworks in progress that later made their way into several gallery shows around town. Bottom line: It's entirely possible that artists who've trained here will go on to be household names. And Open Studios was a great way to get to know their work before everyone else does.
Apparently, art cows are a thing here in Phoenix. They've been popping up in recent years, thanks to artists including Tiffany C. Bailey, who featured a winsome piece called Contemporary Cows in her "Idyllic Landscape" exhibition at Mesa Contemporary Arts Museum. Bailey created several palm-size ceramic cows in a creamy off-white color, then gave each distinct markings before setting them under glass as if roaming a pasture together. Bailey's cows are a playful reminder of the role of agriculture in American life, a nod to the Midwestern roots of so many Phoenix residents, and a riff on the ways even like creatures bear their own unique markings.
Some fancy, multiday art festivals happen around metro Phoenix every year, but the year's best was a smaller affair off the beaten path organized by local creatives who just wanted to make a day for art, family, and community. They convened artists to paint murals one Sunday in March, in an alley that's a popular canvas for some of the area's best street artists, then added music, a barbecue, and the good vibes that are hard to replicate on a larger scale. The event drew neighbors, artists, and other community members, for a casual day of authentic conversation, relaxation, and creativity — forging and reinforcing the bonds of community during an age when nothing is more important than listening to and learning from each other.
Making a meaningful gallery experience requires more than hanging pictures on the wall. Modified Arts, a creative space founded by Kimber Lanning in 1999, gets it. Art is about ideas, and galleries help diverse community members explore them together. Modified Arts is a welcoming space that's open six days a week, conveying the sense that art should be an everyday encounter accessible to all, rather than a mere cultural exercise for elites. Its monthly exhibitions feature thought-provoking works by diverse artists, which prompt curiosity and conversations among gallerygoers. This year, Modified Arts has shown images exploring North Korea, works created with flat-rate postal boxes, photographs by Burton Barr Central Library architect Will Bruder, and much more. It's a go-to gallery for seeing works by emerging and established artists. But more important, it's a place where you can linger over art that challenges your assumptions about yourself and the world around you.
Being independent, together. That's the premise behind Megaphone PHX, an art gallery that's also the studio space for artist Andy Brown, whose work often features concentric lines and cycling imagery. He has shown work by metro Phoenix favorites such as JJ Horner, Lauren Lee, and Beth Tom, and welcomed group shows curated by other creatives. But the gallery is also a popular gathering space for poets and collage creatives, and it has featured music and dance performance, too. Megaphone PHX is distinguished as a gathering place for creatives, whose cross-pollination across different genres enriches the cultural ethos in Phoenix. In a city where too many artists still exist within their own silos, Megaphone PHX is mixing it up and pointing the way toward increased collaboration.
Time with compelling works and the artists who make them — that's what you get at the best student galleries, including the Step Gallery where Arizona State University presents Master of Fine Arts thesis exhibitions. It's located in a former warehouse, and its concrete floors and exposed ceiling beams provide a stunning backdrop for works in all media. This year, it's contained a neon landscape of icons created by Lily Reeves, wooden objects crafted by Alex Foster to spur adult play, a miniature production plant by Andrew Noble exploring relationships between humans and machines, and myriad other works that push past people's misconceptions of art as an isolated entity existing on the periphery of enterprises deemed more useful or exciting. For people who make the art rounds on First and Third Fridays in Phoenix, Step Gallery is always on the must-see list, because it's a place where you can see new works and talk with the creatives who gave them life.
Weathered over time until its Cor-Ten steel took on a patina that looks like wood pulled from an Old West homestead, Louise Nevelson's monumental sculpture for Scottsdale Public Art is still the best piece of public art in metro Phoenix. Dedicated in 1973, it's officially titled Atmosphere and Environments XVIII. The sculpture reflects Nevelson's fondness for creating monochromatic assemblages using found wooden objects, arranged to form boxes within boxes. For a metropolis wrestling with its own growth, identity, and preservation of natural resources, the piece stands as a monument to free-flowing ideas, collaboration, and imaginative reuse of existing objects. It's a reminder that the past is important, but no more so than the open windows that beckon community members to find creative new ways of thriving together.
When the canals aren't rushing with water, it's easy to overlook the power of water, its essential presence in our lives, and the indigenous peoples who forged its pathways. Enter Reflection Rising, a work of temporary public art by Los Angeles-based creative Patrick Shearn of Poetic Kinetics, which was part of Canal Convergence in February and March. Comprising brightly colored strips formed into a panel suspended over Scottsdale Waterfront Canal, Shearn's piece affirmed the life-giving properties of the water that lay beneath it, even as it beckoned people who saw it rising in the sky to come explore the banks of the canal. As gentle winds made the sculpture rise, fall, or twist in the air, it reminded viewers of the vibrancy of the urban landscape surrounding it, and the many ways that both the natural and built environments are continuing to evolve over time.
Metro Phoenix got some impressive new murals this year, including large-scale works by brothers Gabriel and Isaac Fortoul, a pair of creatives who call themselves the Fortoul Brothers. They're still finessing the year's best mural on two long, adjoining walls at Garfield Elementary School, which is located in the Garfield neighborhood where they live and have an arts studio. The mural, which spans more than 200 feet, was commissioned by the Mollen Foundation, which works to promote healthy eating habits in children. It's a bold backdrop for garden beds where students and other community members grow and harvest food. The mural features the artists' characteristic imagery,formed with simple shapes and lines. Its themes include nature, sustainability, and growth — reflected in images such as the sun, trees, and assorted plant life. The mural is a testament to connections forged between artists and community members, and the importance of childhood time spent with nature and art.
Metro Phoenix has no shortage of eye-catching murals by talented artists. Meet Me at Daley Park by Tempe artist Jake Early is a mural masterwork. Its size alone is worth the drive over to Daley Park, near 15th Street and College Avenue, for a visit. Coming north on College, just north of Broadway Road, you won't miss it. After a design competition, Tempe Public Art awarded Early the job of painting a wall 400 feet long and 8 feet high. The wall borders a city facilities yard next to a railroad easement. Early managed to turn the stark, industrial area of the railroad tracks and easement into something visually appealing. The colors are vibrant, dominated by light green that symbolizes the area's agricultural past, and an 8-foot rooster near the wall's corner. The mural can't be taken in at once — it has to be toured to be fully appreciated. It's like an outdoor history museum, displaying scenes that encompass Tempe's past and present as well as college students on bicycles. The real Arizona State University students who bicycle to school on College Avenue can see themselves in the mural and know that they, too, are larger than life, connected to Tempe's past, but representing the hope of a better future.
Every year, you can expect nothing but the best from Phoenix Film Festival at Harkins Scottsdale 101. In its 2018 edition, the festival screened over 250 films — everything from local movies to indies from Jason Reitman and Bo Burnham to documentaries about Mr. Rogers and Ruth Bader Ginsburg. There is something for everyone in its 10 days of screenings. There's also no better place to showcase how great the local film scene is, both on the big screen, or in the audiences filled with enthusiastic film fans across metro Phoenix and the state.
If you missed your chance to see a recent big release in theaters, don't stress: It's almost certain that it'll end up at this east Valley hot spot. But Pollack Tempe Cinemas is more than just a place to see newish movies on the cheap. If you take a spin around the theater before finding your seat, you'll discover a cinephile's heaven with movie props and memorabilia sprinkled all over. Take a selfie with some life-size Star Wars characters, and if you get there with enough time before your show begins, you can hit the game room for a bit of fun. And don't forget about their Wednesday Classics, when you can watch films from long ago for the same price as any other film they screen — $3.50. Who said going to the movies wasn't affordable?
It's pretty common now to have a beer or cocktail while watching a movie, but nine times out of 10, that movie probably isn't something that came out before you were born. FilmBar is the one other time. But it's not just classics; FilmBar screens newer indie films only released in select cities, Big Gay Sing-A-Longs, documentaries, and anything else you wouldn't typically find at a chain theater. FilmBar is where you will find the most passionate cinema fans, but also those looking to see a movie they may never have heard of before. It's where you go to fall in love with film.
The future of cinema involves in-theater service where people bring you food, drinks, and snacks directly to your seat while you're watching the movie. If you can do that, while keeping ticket prices competitive with places that don't deliver food — you're doing it right. And if you add in all-local craft beers, food named after popular films and celebs (like the Robert Brownie Jr. Sundae, Home Alone Pizzetta, and Glazed & Confused popcorn), and fully reclining seats? You're the best. Not to mention the food isn't your typical theater food: RoadHouse Cinemas has made-from-scratch burgers, pizza, pretzels, four flavors of free-refill popcorn you can mix and match, and gelato. Show up too early? There's a full bar with TVs to watch a game, a lounge to hang out, and a patio with fire pits for when it's nice outside.
As holiday stress looms and people start wondering whether they're too busy for December First Friday, Frances Vintage gives them a reason to venture out, where they discover that it's better to undertake holiday tasks together in a space filled with merriment and creativity. Dozens of artisans converge on the Frances parking lot each year to sell their wares in a casual, friendly setting that transforms shopping obligations into opportunities to support local businesses, makers, and entrepreneurs. Everything at this holiday arts and crafts festival is handmade and local, so shoppers know they're supporting creatives in their own community, and don't have to worry that they're choosing gifts that anyone could buy with just the click of a computer key. By creating a sense of community, Crafeteria reminds participants of the everyday gifts that never get wrapped, but still warm the cockles of our heart.
Among the mainstays in our Phoenix Public Library chain, Yucca Branch manages to maintain its old-timey charm and combine it with state-of-the-art features that make checking out a book or researching a term paper a real pleasure. Friendly and helpful staff are on hand to cheerfully renew your library card, help you find the best popcorn movie, or recommend nice new fiction based on what you like best to read. Lots of comfortable seating and a fast auto-checkout are among Yucca's newest features — two more reasons why, when it comes to multimedia borrowing, this place is the best.
As kids, we used to dream about secret passageways that connected the far-flung corners of our surroundings, allowing us to travel from one place to another at astonishing speeds. As adults, our dream comes true every time we drive the 143 from the east Valley to central Phoenix. Dubbed the Hohokam Expressway, this 3.93-mile freeway might just be the best-kept secret in Valley commutes. Originally designed in 1957 as a collector road for traffic from the east side of town, the current freeway also serves to connect Interstate 10 in the southeast Valley to Sky Harbor International Airport and the Loop 202 Red Mountain Freeway — both of which can be accessed without having to get too close to the dreaded mini-stack or Durango curve thanks to this small-but-significant route. Traffic? What traffic?
There are historic downtown neighborhoods, and there's Palmcroft, one of the oldest and grandest collections of midcentury homes in the city. That's because Palmcroft, roughly bounded by Seventh and 15th avenues between Thomas and McDowell roads, is something other than a mass-planned subdivision. Both Palmcroft and its nearest historic neighbor, the Encanto neighborhood, are examples of the Garden City design principle, a comprehensive approach to suburban planning that includes a unification of architecture, community planning, and landscape design. It's an approach that has its roots in 19th-century suburban planning, which typically included innovative street plans, superior landscaping, and ornamental light fixtures — all combined in this single square mile to absolute perfection.
This gorgeous Al Beadle condominium high-rise was already a midtown standout before its owners ponied up for an exterior renovation. Now, Executive Towers looks as good as (if not better than) it did when it threw open its shiny glass doors in 1964. Newly repainted stairwells sparkle in stunning turquoise, offset by balconies of palest lemon yellow. Neatly redesigned landscaping and a rejuvenated concrete lagoon surrounding Beadle's "floating" structural design add to the appeal of this popular landmark, which recently earned both national and local historic designations. Interior tweaks include grey-and-turquoise walls and carpeting on each floor. Anyone jonesing to live in a gorgeous and period-correct midcentury building might line up for one of Executive Towers' sought-after condos.
It's a downtown dream, and what's more, a stroll through Phoenix's Encanto-Palmcroft neighborhood is totally free. One of our best-known (and higher-priced) historic neighborhoods, this one is no old-timey tract. Made up entirely of custom homes dating back to the late 1920s, this collection of Tudors, Craftsman bungalows, and transitional ranches wraps itself around 222-acre Encanto Park, and is chockablock with rose gardens, tidy lawns, and some of the best examples of long-ago architecture styles. Winding streets are well-tended by the city and locals alike, and are jammed every two years by the Encanto-Palmcroft Historic Home Tour and Street Fair, which allows lucky ticketholders the chance to peek inside some of this historic neighborhood's better examples. The next one will be held March 24, 2019, and tickets are already on sale.
Brought to us by the nice folks at the Midtown Neighborhood Association, this latest entry in the "Let's go look at old houses!" thing is among the most interesting. A self-guided tour that draws folks from all over the Valley, this one shows off apartment and condo homes in some of midtown's finest buildings. Because these are all closed communities (many of them high-rises like Phoenix Towers and the Regency), the Midtown Urban Living tour offers a rare opportunity to ogle neat interiors from the '50s, '60s, and '70s. Thoughtful organizers have taken the load off visitors determined to see all half-dozen or so homes with a handy shuttle service that beetles ticketholders from one locale to another, and all tour spots are situated a short walk from light rail stops. Mark your calendar: This year's tour happens on Saturday, November 3.
You can't miss Tovrea Castle as you're driving on the 202 Red Mountain Freeway between Phoenix and Tempe: It's the only wedding cake-looking building surrounded by a sea of cactuses in town. Completed around 1930, the structure was originally intended to be a hotel and ended up a private residence. The city of Phoenix bought the castle and the land in 1993, and today, you can take a tour of the property — if you play your cards right. See, there are only a few tours each week, and not many people are allowed on each tour. Right now, there's not a single ticket available through the middle of 2019. We recommend getting on the mailing list to get notified when tickets for late 2019 become available — they go quickly, and it's worth the reasonable admission fee to check out this unique piece of local history up close and personal.
Arizona has a rich history of strange Fortean phenomena: the Phoenix Lights, Travis Walton's abduction in Snowflake, the Mogollon Monsters, native Skinwalkers, Thunderbirds — weird shit happens in our neck of the woods. So the fact that one of the nation's largest annual UFO conventions is based in Arizona should come as no surprise. Every February, the International UFO Congress brings together a packed roster of guest speakers, documentarians, and eyewitnesses to talk about all things UFO. Despite the sensationalistic subject matter, they take a sober approach to the material, inviting scholars and scientists to weigh in. They even have therapeutic support groups where abductees and people who've been through paranormal experiences can talk about what happened to them in a safe and supporting environment. If you're interested in finding out whether the truth is out there, there's no better place to start than spending a few days at the UFO Congress.
It's safe to say that there are a lot of people in America who would like to punch Harvey Weinstein in the face. After he was outed as a serial sexual predator who used his money and influence to keep victims from speaking out, the disgraced Hollywood producer claimed that he was suffering from "sex addiction" and fled to a rehab center in Arizona, where, presumably, he hoped he wouldn't be recognized. That didn't work out so well: A guy known only as Steve spotted Weinstein eating dinner at the Sanctuary Camelback Mountain Resort in January and took the opportunity to give him two hard whacks to the face. "You're such a piece of shit for what you did to those women," our hero reportedly said. Since Weinstein declined to call the police, Steve never faced charges, and we never got to learn about this crusader. Like any true superhero, his identity remains a mystery.
In a world where you can buy cupcakes, caviar, and coats from vending machines, why not cars? That was Carvana's thinking. The Tempe-based startup is a used auto dealer that puts the entire car-buying process online, from shopping to financing to trade-in. But what happens when you've selected and purchased your next ride? Obviously, you head to the nine-story car vending machine that went up this year at Scottsdale Road and the 202 Red Mountain Freeway, put a special coin in the slot, and wait while the contraption retrieves your vehicle. Of course, there's nothing stopping Carvana from storing their inventory in, you know, a warehouse or some other normal building. It's a publicity stunt, but it's not the worst one we've seen, and it must be a fairly successful one, considering the Tempe machine is one of 15 of these things stationed around the country.
Earlier this year, the city of Phoenix unveiled its plans for the revitalization of Hance Park. The renderings included features like a jogging loop, skate park, an amphitheater — and one more thing. An eagle-eyed Reddit user noticed that one of the computer-generated citizens enjoying the new version of the park was none other than Wheelchair Drake. What is Wheelchair Drake, you ask? It's a meme featuring a photo of rapper Drake (real name: Aubrey Graham) as Jimmy Brooks, his character on Degrassi: The Next Generation. We still don't know who put the image in the rendering or why (although we suspect the answer is "for the fun of it"), but we do know that about a day after the meme was discovered, a new version of the image (minus Drake) was put out by the city. Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted.
On March 26, the whole city came to a standstill because a black-and-white cat was stuck on top of an electrical pole. After ABC15 started livestreaming, the Phoenix Fire Department was flooded with calls, and we held our collective breath watching as the cat pawed at the pole and played with the wires, then looked like he was contemplating jumping off. Nearly an hour had gone by, and the crew from the Salt River Project was still nowhere in sight. Then, finally, a heroic neighbor found a tall ladder and started climbing up alongside the pole. When he reached the top rung, he reached up and grabbed the wriggling cat, holding it steady with a grip that was later compared to that of a linebacker. And then, slowly, he climbed back down. Viewers later learned that the cat was named Gypsy, but the rescuer was never named or spotted again. Whoever you are, good man, we salute you.
Roosevelt Row's murals are nice. But just like the high-rise apartments next door, they lack the gritty feel of the rest of downtown Phoenix. So instead, we recommend you travel a few blocks to the east to "Calle 16" in order to view some of the best street art in Phoenix. Many of the tire shops, pet stores, and restaurants that face 16th Street feature brilliant murals. Some of the works of art adorn active businesses, while others are on decrepit abandoned storefronts. The art styles range from run-of-the-mill graffiti tags to astonishingly detailed works that could hang in a gallery. One of the most memorable murals lies in the shade of a bus stop near Thomas Road. A work of the late Phoenix artist Rose Johnson, the mural portrays a diverse group of people in the modern style of Picasso. Above and below the figures are lines from the prayer attributed to Saint Francis of Assisi: "Where there is despair, hope. Where there is darkness, light. Where there is sadness, joy."
As you're reading this, Chris Birkett is busy prepping for the holidays. After all, it's only a couple of months until the most wonderful time of the year, and the 43-year-old wedding DJ wants to be prepared. But instead of buying gifts for his wife, Sarah, or their two daughters, Birkett's probably picking out lights and decorations for Winter Wonderland, the gigantic holiday display adorning his Scottsdale home every Christmas season. Each December, the Birkett family transform the place into a glowing and glittering tableaux with 250,000 lights, an enormous Disney-esque holiday castle, a choreographed light show, and even jets of faux snow. There's also a quaint Western town along the side of the house and a Frozen-themed display decorating the backyard pool. Powering the display, along with electricity, is a sense of whimsy and wonder, perfectly illustrated by lights in the front that read, "Believe in Magic." It's one of the best displays in the Valley, and no less a source than The Great Christmas Light Fight has said so, as the Birketts won an episode of the ABC television show last year. Don't stop believing in magic, Chris, you're an inspiration to would-be Clark Griswolds everywhere.
For many years now, artist and preservation advocate Beatrice Moore has put out the call for artists and other community members to submit their own creative takes on piñatas for the annual art show that features dozens of intriguing variations on this particular sculptural form. Often, they reflect a contemporary collective psyche, featuring everything from Donald Trump in diaper mode to a camera used for Instagram captures. The show moved from Bragg's Pie Factory to Weird Garden during this year's Art Detour in March without sacrificing any of its charms. It's still a beautifully quirky tribute to the ways communities are perpetual works in progress, created by the collective spirit that arises from delightfully diverse individuals doing their own thing, together.
There was never any love lost between Phoenix New Times and the Arizona senator, but we have to admire the final words John McCain left to be read after his death from brain cancer on August 25. An excerpt: "I lived and died a proud American. We are citizens of the world's greatest republic, a nation of ideals, not blood and soil. We are blessed and are a blessing to humanity when we uphold and advance those ideals at home and in the world. ... We weaken our greatness when we confuse our patriotism with tribal rivalries that have sown resentment and hatred and violence in all the corners of the globe. We weaken it when we hide behind walls, rather than tear them down, when we doubt the power of our ideals, rather than trust them to be the great force for change they have always been. ... Ten years ago, I had the privilege to concede defeat in the election for president. I want to end my farewell to you with the heartfelt faith in Americans that I felt so powerfully that evening. I feel it powerfully still. Do not despair of our present difficulties but believe always in the promise and greatness of America, because nothing is inevitable here. Americans never quit. We never surrender. We never hide from history. We make history." Rest in peace, sir.