Megalopolitan Life

The last permanent drive-in movie theater in Arizona was offering outdoor cinema long before other drive-in movie locations started popping up around the Valley during the COVID-19 pandemic. Since 1979, guests have watched thousands of new movies under the glow of Glendale 9’s outdoor screens and enjoyed the old-school concessions stand, which is shaped like an octagon and includes all the staples (popcorn, cotton candy) of the moviegoing experience. Glendale 9 was one of the first drive-ins nationally to upgrade its movie audio from boxy speakers that hung on car windows to FM frequencies on people’s car stereos, and it continues to premiere new movies every week.

Arizona-based artists M. Jenea Sanchez and Gabriela Muñoz have been collaborating for more than five years, most recently working with a women’s self-help collective along the border between Arizona and Mexico. This year, that collaboration leveled up with an exhibition at Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art titled “Division of Labor: Women Shifting a Transnational Gaze.” The museum had invited Sanchez and Muñoz to co-curate an exhibition of works drawn from its own collection. Instead, the artists created an exhibition featuring not only works from the collection, but also 10 contemporary Latinx artists working in the borderlands. The collaboration went beyond two artists teaming up; it became a model for shared power and horizontal leadership within art museums and communities.

Between pandemic shutdowns and the growing footprint of big developers, it’s been a tough year for creative venues. Undaunted by the challenges, Palabras Bilingual Bookstore founder Rosaura “Chawa” Magaña launched a new creative hub called Nurture House just a few blocks west of the main drag in Roosevelt Row. It’s home to Wasted Ink Zine Distro, Abalone Mountain Press, Pachanga Press, and Por Vida Bakery, which means you can snag some great reading material and support local publishers while you’re enjoying tasty baked treats. Nurture House has front and central courtyards, which make great outdoor gathering spaces, and the bookstore has a cozy room with a big purple couch where you can dive into books about arts and culture surrounded by walls filled with paintings by Jeff Slim. It’s also a community gathering space for book club and open mic nights, where diversity is celebrated and authentic conversation, self-expression, and listening are truly nurtured.

Mike Miskowski has made his political disdain known for more than five years by hanging it from bridges and overpasses and off-ramps all over town. He’s the guy behind the large-scale anti-Donald-Trump signage that decorated local freeways in 2016 and beyond. “Trump is Putin’s Bitch!” was Miskowski’s first greatest hit; other popular signs included “Trump Is A Whiny Bitch” and “Most Corrupt President Ever.” Before that, “Trump Locks Babies In Cages” got a lot of attention, as did “Your Vote Is Your Weapon.” Miskowski, whose signs are all handmade, has lately pointed his outrage at the GOP and its crazy behavior. His motto? “Any political message I can get in under seven feet of space is worth that space.”

Grand Avenue has an eclectic mix of art experiences on First Fridays, from tried-and-true favorites like printing on one of the presses inside the Hazel and Violet letterpress shop to pop-ups that blend food with visual culture at Bones Bodega. Beyond gallery exhibits that show works by dozens of artists, you’ll find offbeat street art, open artist studios, pop-up artisan markets, and live painting — all of which take the First Friday experience on this funky diagonal strip near downtown to a whole new level. Best of all, there’s an authentic community vibe that’s evident as people pause to take selfies, sip tea at outdoor bistro tables, talk about their favorite art sightings, and just marvel together at the wonder of it all.

It’s been nearly three decades since Massachusetts-based artists Mags Harries and Lajos Heder created a series of vessels for Phoenix Public Art that were installed along an SR 51 bicycle trail from Brill Street to Ocotillo Road. Maligned by some, and vandalized with graffiti through the years, the renovated artworks that range from 2 to 15 feet tall still stand as a tribute to the power of public art and the histories the artists sought to reflect in these works. They conceived the vessels, which have surfaces painted by Arizona artists, after talking with community members near the installation sites — and noting the prevalence of vases, pots, and baskets in their homes. Today, the pots continue to reflect the diversity of nearby and surrounding neighborhoods, and the many cultures that have shaped the natural and urban landscape, even as they remind the community of the power art holds to shape ideas.

The war of words was in full swing this year as partisans filled public and online spaces with opinions about immigration, voting, public health, and more. That war was poignantly addressed in “Text as Image,” an outdoor exhibition of text-based art created as part of ASU Art Museum’s “Pilot Projects” series. The temporary public artworks included Jacob Meders’ Warbird Press vending machine with prints addressing colonialism and Indigenous lands, Kristin Bauer’s Dia/Chronic banner confronting propaganda and white supremacy, Hugh Hayden’s Pillory sculpture referencing police barricades and medieval stocks, and Iván Argote’s Tiernos, We, Somos and Strong installation of concrete chairs addressing human interactions during polarized times. It was the perfect collection of temporary public artwork for the times, conveying not only the perils of the present moment but the possibilities for a less fractious future.

Artists Alexandra Bowers and Pete Deise transformed an empty space at Park Central for their pop-up exhibit “The Four Seasons,” providing viewers with an intimate way to view their work outside of traditional gallery settings. Large billows of fabric suggested geographic features, reinforcing the ways these artists’ works reflect natural elements such as wind and water. Both artists played with elements of scale and movement, bringing life to an otherwise barren space. Their pop-up exhibit reinforced the power of art to transform both interior and exterior spaces, and signaled the potential of other urban environments to serve as places to encounter and experience art.

In 2016, Tempe resident Robert Moore was a member of the city’s municipal arts commission and on the lookout for new ways the commission could engage with the local cultural scene. He didn’t have to look very far. Moore recommended transforming an aging and largely vacant retail building owned by the city at the Danelle Plaza shopping center near his home into a platform for local artists. Two years (and many negotiating sessions with city officials) later, the Danelle Project was born. Coordinated by Moore and Tempe Art A Gogh-Gogh co-founder Evan Liggins, it’s a visual feast of works by more than 20 notable local artists. Three sides of the 16,500-square-foot building and other spaces around the plaza are adorned with art: Vacant storefronts are filled with displays and installation pieces, while large-scale murals adorn exterior walls. Some works are evocative, such as Clyde’s pandemic-inspired mural Dreams on Pause depicted in deep blues and grays. Others celebrate the eclectic history of Danelle Plaza (Nick Rascona’s skateboard mural is inspired by a late ’70s skate park on the property). Then there are the oddities, like Sarah Hurwitz and Daniel Funkhouser’s Futureland, Arizona, which reimagines our state as a post-apocalyptic and neon-drenched toxic wasteland. (Certain installations become illuminated after dark.) It’s also, conveniently, a drivable art experience — fitting for this car-friendly metropolis.

Walking around the city’s best museums and galleries, you’ll rarely find works by as many Phoenix-based artists as you will during a stroll along Oak Street Alley. Dozens of artists have been painting murals in this Coronado neighborhood alley for many years now, providing an evolving exhibition that reveals the diverse styles and themes embraced by local muralists. Some address heavy topics like gun violence. Others memorialize historic figures or musicians. And a very special one elevates the light that a little girl who died of cancer continues to shine on her community. Oak Street Alley includes work by some of the city’s best-loved artists, including La Morena, Maggie Keane, Thomas “Breeze” Marcus, and JB Snyder. For both the casual art lover and the dedicated mural spotter, it’s a place spilling over with inspiration — and more than a few kickass selfie backdrops.

During a year dominated by the pandemic and divisive political rhetoric, Tree of Life stood out. Created by Tucson artist Daniel Martin Diaz, the piece — a trio of cut-steel sculptures anchored by an 11-foot-tall red tile mural with tree imagery blending organic and scientific forms — served as a monument to healing, growth, and community. It’s particularly striking within the wider context of national conversations and protests about monuments, because it serves as a monument to the desert, as well as the people past and present who give it life. In addition, the piece inspires viewers to explore the artist’s larger body of work, leading them on a journey through his imaginings of physical and metaphysical worlds.

For travelers who’ll never enter a traditional art space in Phoenix, Vanished Tempest provides a glimpse into the city’s contemporary art scene, opening a window onto the creativity in our midst. The installation, which opened inside Terminal 3 at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport in June, features a group of paintings created by Phoenix artist Laura Spalding Best on silver trays and candy dishes. Best painted vignettes that amplify the intersection of natural and urban landscapes, such as a palm tree seemingly rooted in concrete, prompting people passing through Phoenix to consider both the beauty and the hidden complexities of desert life. Her artwork leaves travelers wanting to learn more about our city and the curious ways it’s navigated by both visitors and locals.

As new construction goes up all around it, Burton Barr Central Library continues to stand out, reminding people that great buildings are more than big boxes. Walls of windows allow patrons to look over the urban landscape, even as shelves filled with books invite them to look inward and keep learning. Through lecture series and other programs, Burton Barr Central Library promotes Phoenix’s diversity. With dedicated spaces for youth and makers, a first-floor gallery, and a rare book room, the library amplifies the importance of not only reading, but community as well.

Nowadays, most people can watch movies on the devices they keep in their pockets or sit at home in front of a TV screen scrolling through countless film options, which means a movie theater has to bring something extra to the equation to really make an impact. Majestic Theaters, first launched several years ago as Alamo Drafthouse Cinema, offers themed events tied to classic films, luxury seating few can afford to realize in their own homes, and culinary choices that range from comfort food to more sophisticated fare. Special event screenings happen at several theaters across the Valley, meaning people have more places and times to see the specialty films that appeal to their sense of nostalgia or play. Props like glow sticks create an atmosphere that’s hard to capture in your own home. Movie-going as a spirited, social enterprise is on full display at Majestic Theaters, where you can feel like a kid but still experience films with some heavy grown-up vibes.

This year, FilmBar gave cinema fans new ways to engage with films by adding a smaller secondary screening space at its brick-and-mortar movie house in downtown Phoenix and screening films in partnership with other spaces around the Valley. Patrons saw classic movies inside the historic Orpheum Theatre, lent their vocals to Big Gay Singalong screenings for movie musicals and other fan favorites at its outdoor satellite at the new Pemberton PHX, and saw the launch of FilmBar’s partnership with the Nile Theater for a series of record/movie swaps and film screenings. Even as people have more options for watching movies in the comfort of their home alone on a comfy couch, FilmBar is finding new ways to show the value of films for creating and sustaining community.

After a massive yellow mural reading “Black Lives Matter” was painted on a prominent street in Washington, D.C., Gizette Knight hoped to install a street mural with that same theme in downtown Phoenix. When she couldn’t get city approval, Knight did what activists do best: She found another way to make the message heard. Knight coordinated a Black Lives Matter mural project that included numerous Black History Matters murals painted by various artists around Phoenix. The murals, hosted by places like The Nash and Carly’s Bistro in Roosevelt Row, featured the faces of renowned Black changemakers like Shirley Chisholm, Huey P. Newton, and Harriet Tubman — as well as some who aren’t as well known. Best of all, the project included a billboard along Grand Avenue, assuring that the Black History Matters message would be widely seen in our urban landscape.

It’s not just that the miniature cityscape of Phoenix now on display at Tempe’s LEGOLAND Discovery Center is made from nearly 2 million plastic LEGO bricks. The other thing that makes master model builder Alec Posta’s whimsical creation so very special is the inclusion of Phoenix’s perpetually torn-up streets. The numerous construction scenes are a nice touch in the diorama, created by a team of builders in both 1:72 scale and 1:48 scale. The cityscape extends into Tempe and beyond, so Chase Tower and St. Mary’s Basilica are joined by the Wigwam Motel in Holbrook and the Cardinals Stadium. Want to show out-of-town visitors your city? Take them to the Arizona Mills shopping center, point to Posta’s clever creation, and you’re done.

It’s hard for a first-timer to find Lux Central. There’s no sign, and Google Maps will send you to what looks like an empty building on Central Avenue. The entrance is around back, and you’ll know you’re there because you’ll start to see effortlessly glamorous people who all look hipper and happier than you could ever hope to be. Although being surrounded by all these pretty people makes us feel ugly and unstylish, we still like going to Lux Central. As a cafe, it’s something of a five-tool player, offering coffee, baked goods, brunch, dinner, and booze, and staying open late (midnight on weekdays, 2 a.m. on the weekends). That means that pretty much anytime you stop in, you’ll find a decent crowd of people whose clothes and tattoos and haircuts and mannerisms you can study in the hopes of becoming cooler.

We like the light rail; we’re glad it’s there, it’s good for the city, etc. But we don’t often think to take it to the airport, even though it stops there. We tend to be too hurried to get to our flight on time to add another transportation variable into the mix. But with Uber prices surging one afternoon this year ($35 from the Garfield neighborhood to Sky Harbor, are you kidding?), we trudged with our suitcase to the closest stop and boarded the train. After a long walk from the 44th Street stop, you must board the PHX Sky Train, which ferries you to your terminal. We’d never had the pleasure. We were sweaty and tense about flying during a pandemic, but for about five minutes on the Sky Train, standing up and clutching a pole, a calm fell over us. This dinky little vessel travels along an elevated track, dipping and twisting gently, like a slow-motion roller coaster. It even offers modest views — the mountains to the south, the city to the north. By the time we arrived at Terminal 4, our forehead sweat had dried and our spirits had lifted. We tried it again a few months later. Same outcome: inner peace via the Sky Train. The Uber savings aren’t bad either.

When it comes to Christmas spirit, the Whos of Whoville ain’t got nothing on Mel and Patti Tasker. During the holidays, the couple dresses up their sprawling Laveen Village home with more than 300,000 lights and several hundred hand-painted wooden cutouts of cartoon, comic book, and video game characters. There’s also an animated undersea display and a flock of zoo animals made from lights. Best part: Everything’s arranged along the Taskers’ circular driveway, so you can roll through without leaving your car. (It’s also the only free drive-thru holiday attraction in the Valley.) The display is visible from miles away, owing to their house being on a small hill surrounded by farmland. That could change soon, as a grip of recent residential and commercial projects are encroaching on their property and could wind up being the Grinches of this story. A newly opened housing community next door might limit the hours the Taskers’ display is active, so get out to see it while you can. This year’s version opens in early November.

Truth be told, there’s not much that truly makes Phoenix unique. Other cities have art museums and great restaurants, beautiful golf courses, and high-end shopping. So if you’ve got visitors in from out of town, and you want to give them an experience they really can’t get anywhere else, we recommend you head to the Musical Instrument Museum in north Phoenix. To be fair, there is a similar institution in Brussels, but its collection isn’t as large or geographically comprehensive as ours; the Phoenix MIM has more than 13,000 instruments from more than 200 countries and territories. It’s also got a room full of instruments to play, a concert space that draws acts from around the world, and special programming devoted to the musical traditions of areas around the globe. There’s a lot about Phoenix we enjoy showing off to guests, but when we want to impress them with something truly world-class, we head to MIM.

Every major city has its touristy spots — Times Square in New York City, the San Antonio River Walk. Metro Phoenix has its own little part of town that draws visitors from all over, too. We used to think that Old Town Scottsdale was kind of cheesy, but the longer we live here, the more we’ve come to appreciate the part of Scottsdale that’s bounded approximately by Osborn and Camelback roads on the south and north, and 68th Street and Miller Road on the west and east. Within these coordinates, you’ll find stores that sell things like Native American jewelry, Mexican blankets, and cactus tchotchkes, plus iconic eateries like the Sugar Bowl Ice Cream Parlor & Restaurant, and museums like Western Spirit: Scottsdale’s Museum of the West. We’re in Old Town often to visit spots popular with the locals, such as Citizen Public House and The Rusty Spur, but every once in a while we like to pop into a souvenir shop or two to appreciate our fair city through the eyes of someone who doesn’t live here.

If you’ve ever taken the 202 into or out of Tempe, you’ve probably seen Tovrea Castle, the wedding cake-shaped building situated between the Van Buren/52nd and Priest Drive exits. But unless you’re very, very lucky, you won’t get much closer to the iconic structure than the view from the highway. The castle, which is nearly 100 years old and is part of the National Register of Historic Places, can only be visited on a guided tour. Tickets are snapped up almost as quickly as they’re put on sale, so in December 2020, the Tovrea Carraro Society decided that the only fair way to give access to the building and the grounds was a ticket lottery. There’s no cost to enter, and if you win, you can purchase up to four tickets at $22 each. The lottery for Spring 2022 tours is open October 1 through 15 if you want to be one of the fortunate ones to see inside Tovrea Castle. May the odds be ever in your favor.

Lovely green spaces are rare in our desert metropolis, and even though we love our cactuses and our sand, sometimes we just want to take a moment and enjoy some grass and trees. Ro-Ho-En, more commonly known as the Japanese Friendship Garden, is where we head when we want to commune with verdant nature. Tucked away just off Roosevelt Row, the garden was a joint project between the city of Phoenix and its sister city Himeji, Japan, that was completed in 1996. It’s a place to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city; the tree cover and water features drown out the sounds of urban life, leaving visitors with a quiet place to stroll. We’re still sad that the gift shop doesn’t sell pellets to feed the koi that live in the pond anymore (the food was attracting other animals), but even without that added attraction, the Japanese Friendship Garden is still one of our favorite corners of town.

It’s easy to live in Phoenix and become blind to all the parking lots. There are just so many in this car-centric, perpetually mobile city. The grandest one of all may be the sprawling lot around North Phoenix Baptist Church. Taking up some major real estate near Bethany Home Road and Missouri Avenue, and Central Avenue and Third Street, this lot is an essential part of life in the neighborhood. It’s hosted a slew of farmers’ markets and other community events. It’s where folks have learned to drive and even attended school. And, of course, it’s an essential place of worship for this part of town. Put all of that together, and you don’t just have a parking lot but a cornerstone of the community, a place with ample history and civic value. There are plenty of such places Valley-wide, but this lot stands tall as an example of the city turning asphalt into the fabric of shared experiences.

Bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic on Interstate 10 or Loop 202 got you down? Easily fixed. Bypass a good portion of the gridlock along either freeway during your morning or late-afternoon drive times by taking this thoroughfare through Sky Harbor Airport. Traffic is relatively light, even during peak pickup or drop-off times, and the route links up with various freeways on either end. You can cruise along, shave 20 to 30 minutes off your travel time, and save yourself some grief. Resist the urge to floor it, though (35 mph is the limit most of the way); Phoenix Police patrol the area on the regular, and a pricey speeding ticket will make your already dreadful commute even worse.

Phoenix is a town that requires reliable transportation. Whether that’s a car, the bus, and/or light rail, there’s no way to live here without traveling some ways for work, school, fun, etc. It’s not all bad, as a stretch of road like Roosevelt Street (especially between Central Avenue and Seventh Street) offers a collection of gorgeous murals that’s easily enjoyed while cruising at 20 miles per hour. These pieces are a snapshot of the larger Phoenix culture, with an emphasis on Latin culture especially, as well as a chance to further celebrate the city’s talented artists. Over the years, there have been some standouts, like Antoinette Cauley’s portrait of author and activist James Baldwin on the Ten-O-One office building on Central Avenue, or the utterly gorgeous collaborative cityscape by Lalo Cota and other artists at 128 East Roosevelt Street. Each one emphasizes something unique, but collectively they speak to our city’s interest in great art as well as the role that plays in shaping our shared identity as a bright and brilliant city. Next time you’re driving down Roosevelt, take the time to stop and enjoy the art — it’s your city smiling back at you amid the traffic jams and congested air.

Freeway drivers of metro Phoenix, we know your struggle. Traffic congestion, poor road conditions, and idiot drivers are vexations that frequently make you want to take the nearest exit and stick with surface streets. Not so with the Loop 202 South Mountain Freeway. The 22-mile-long portion of the Valley beltway from 59th Avenue on the west side all the way to Ahwatukee, which opened in late 2019, is flat-out fun to drive. There are zero bumps or blemishes in the young asphalt, so you just glide along. It rolls through a part of the Valley unspoiled by development, allowing unobstructed epic views of craggy mountains on either side or a chance to partake in the sweet smell of fresh-cut alfalfa coming from the farms of Laveen. Another benefit: Fewer people living nearby means there’s less traffic to deal with during your trip. Feel free to open it up a little, cue up a rock anthem, roll down your windows, and enjoy the ride.

Quaint, quirky, and kitschy roadside attractions can be found in various corners of the Valley, but only the best ones are unique enough to seek out. The 25-foot-tall, 1,200-pound fiberglass Hobo Joe statue in downtown Buckeye qualifies, as it’s one of the largest local roadside oddities and has an interesting and mysterious backstory. Old-school Arizonans will recognize the jaunty vagabond as being identical to the namesake mascot of the defunct Hobo Joe’s Coffee Shop chain, which ties into the statue’s origins. Built in the 1980s by now-deceased fiberglass pool manufacturer Marvin Ransdell, it may have been created for one of the restaurants, depending on the source. (Ransdell’s relatives say that’s the case and he was never paid for his work, but the widow of Hobo Joe’s late co-founder Herb Applegate disputes the claims.) The statue was given to the late Ramon Gillum, a local meatpacker and friend of Ransdell’s, and stood outside of his Buckeye slaughterhouse for decades before being removed in 2016 to be restored and repainted. It’s now mounted in the parking lot behind a liquor store, where it’s popular with tourists and visitors. Way to go, Joe.

Peter Corbett has a travel website, ontheroadarizona.com, that’s worth checking out. But because we’re addicted to social media, we usually encounter the former Arizona newspaperman on Twitter, where Corbett regularly posts highlights from his adventures exploring the small towns, historic sites, and extravagant scenery our state has to offer. You’ll see a Lake Powell sunrise overlooking Wahweap Marina on the Arizona-Utah border. You’ll learn that two former Phoenix cops opened Alpine Pizza in Flagstaff in 1973. You’ll discover that Apache Junction was once home to the Apacheland Movie Ranch, a western town built circa 1960 that later burned down. If you’re interested in Arizona, past or present, Corbett’s a must-follow.

Maricopa County Recorder Stephen Richer is a rare breed of Republican who, at least recently, hasn’t been afraid to call out the endless bullshit flowing out of the so-called Arizona election audit and its supporters. He’s taking a political risk by publicly denouncing the audit, which is popular with the GOP base, as an absurd conspiracy theory-laden farce. It could very well hurt his reelection chances in 2024. But with so many cowardly Republican politicians refusing to push back against the nonsense coming out of the Trump-till-the-very-end wing of the Republican Party, it’s immensely refreshing to see at least one GOP politician show some backbone and stand up for the truth. Kudos.

Reginald Bolding, who represents District 27 in south Phoenix in the Arizona House of Representatives and serves as the Democratic minority leader, has been kicking ass this year. Whether it’s his passionate floor speeches on protecting voting access or working across the aisle on legislation mandating outside investigations into police shootings, Bolding has been front-and-center on a variety of important issues that state lawmakers grappled with during this past legislative session. He was also a part of House Democrats’ vigorous opposition — they staged a walkout — to a Republican-backed budget that included a massive tax cut for the wealthy. Now, he’s running for Arizona Secretary of State. He could just be getting started.

Many government spokespeople are unresponsive, unhelpful, and bad at their job of communicating information. Some of them are downright rude. Jessica Fotinos, General Counsel and Public Information Officer for the Clerk of the Superior Court for Maricopa County, is not one of those people. When reporters are on deadline and need answers to basic questions regarding the status of a recently filed lawsuit or how to listen to court proceedings online, Fotinos has got them covered. She promptly responds to inquiries with more information than you asked for or quickly points you in the right direction. More of this from other government flacks in the Valley, please.

When Haley Holland made noise at a recent One Fair Wage rally, it was all in a day’s work for the Phoenix-based activist. As a fair-wage organizer, Holland marched and protested and wrote speeches; in her spare time, she phone-banked seven hours a day, calling people to encourage them to tell their stories of being underpaid and to write letters to congresspeople demanding fair treatment. She knew where disgruntled minimum-wage service industry workers were coming from: Before the pandemic, she worked 65-hour weeks, bartending nights and weekends at a local restaurant. She sees her activism — which lately includes mutual-aid work for Feed Phoenix and labor movement work at Jobs With Justice Coalition — as an opportunity to empower others to stand up for themselves. Ultimately, as Holland keeps saying from various podiums and at public actions, raising lousy wages isn’t about money — it’s about dignity.

We thought we knew Arizona Attorney General Mark Brnovich a little, back in 2015. He’s a Republican, but he told us that, as the son of an immigrant, he was sympathetic to the plight of those who come to America seeking a better life. “The day people stop trying to come to this country is the day we’ll know something’s wrong,” he said. Now, he’s doing everything he can to stop them from arriving. Desperate to win what will be a tough primary and general election for Mark Kelly’s seat in November, it seems like Brnovich is on Fox News every week, railing about immigrants and how they’re bringing in more COVID-19, attacking Biden’s immigration policies, and blowing racist dog whistles. His rhetoric has become more like Russell Pearce 2.0: “This crisis will not end until Joe Biden and cartel [Mark] Kelly love American … children more than they love the children of people that have entered the country illegally.” So disappointing. So Arizona.

Police and prosecutors had a problem last spring. A small gaggle of young white liberals who support the Black community went on a minor rampage one night in October in downtown Phoenix, daring to knock over construction signs as they chanted “Black Lives Matter” and “All Cops Are Bastards” (ACAB). Dressed in black, they used umbrellas to shield themselves from rubber bullets and police cameras. The problem for police was that they couldn’t think of enough to charge these folks with. So they came up with a brilliant plan: They gave them a name (the ACAB Gang) and hit them with enhanced charges for being a criminal street gang. The authorities were thrilled with themselves and levied the criminal charges against the “gang members.” But when local activists, Democratic leaders, and the news media found out how they had concocted the case for the grand jury, outrage followed. The prosecutor’s office soon moved to dismiss the charges “in the interest of justice.” The blowback continues in the form of civil lawsuits by the protesters.

The race for Maricopa County Attorney in 2020 was a tough fight between two capable, smart women. In the wake of the George Floyd murder and its aftermath, Republican Allister Adel was running neck-and-neck with progressive Democrat Julie Gunnigle. Then came Election Night. Would Gunnigle overcome the county’s advantage in Republican voters and be swept to victory by the defund-the-police crowd? Tensions were high. The first votes were counted. Gunnigle was ahead. But then the story of this election went from being damned interesting to something worthy of a Netflix movie: Adel was suddenly rushed to the hospital with bleeding in the brain. After that, more votes were counted and Adel took the lead. Days passed, and her lead increased. A week later, Gunnigle conceded. But there was still no word from Adel. Had she become the first female county attorney in the county’s history, only to be unable to serve? Nope, she took office — although she recently stepped back for several weeks to address alcohol abuse and eating disorder issues.

Dressed like a schoolgirl, the senior U.S. senator from our state cast her vote on a bill to raise the minimum wage to $15: NO. As she did, she dropped a quick curtsy and a dramatic thumbs down, like a Roman emperor calling for a gladiator to be executed. With that careless gesture and thumb, the lives of everyday Americans became harder, and millions of dreams deflated like popped balloons. The gesture marked the beginning of the end of Arizona’s Sinema honeymoon. She has vexed her Senate colleagues and fallen far behind Mark Kelly in approval polls. Another term? Doubtful. 

On January 6, 2021, a day that will long live in infamy, an actual guillotine appeared outside the Arizona State Capitol, blade ready to slice. The guillotine sported a Donald Trump flag, and the group that lugged it out to the public lawn claimed to be protesting in support of the impeached president (who after his January 6 actions would soon be impeached again). These “protesters” refused to share their names with reporters. They made vague, belligerent statements, claiming to “not fear war.” Who would have thought that in a year of abject plague and record heat that the most “yikes” moment would be this?  

Of the thousands of Trump supporters, Proud Boys, white supremacists, and hopeful insurgents who stormed the U.S. Capitol on January 6, the most singularly memorable one is from Arizona. Go figure. Jacob Chansley, a 2005 graduate of Moon Valley High School, was at the Capitol in his guise as QAnon shaman Jake Angeli, dressed spectacularly in a fur hat with horns, Fourth of July makeup on his face, and nothing but tattoos on his bare chest. Holding an American flag attached to a long spear, he was recorded walking through the Capitol with other rioters, clenching a fist behind the Speaker’s desk, and sitting in Mike Pence’s chair, where he wrote a note to the vice president that said, “ITS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME / JUSTICE IS COMING.” Back in Phoenix three days later, Chansley turned himself in upon learning the FBI was looking for him in its hunt for other protester-insurgents. Phoenix reporters already knew him from local right-wing protests: He was a 33-year-old wanna-be actor who lived with his mom in Glendale after falling behind on rent at his own apartment (the same mom who complained on his behalf when he wasn’t getting enough organic food in jail). In early September, Chansley pleaded guilty to obstructing a civil proceeding, and his sentencing is tentatively scheduled for November. Maybe federal prison will be able to keep up with his dietary requirements.

This year, Republican cynicism or outright delusion about Trump’s failure to win the presidential election centered on Arizona, to a large extent, in one of the strangest ballot audits ever seen in modern politics. The Arizona Senate, led by Karen Fann and egged on by powerful state Republicans including the party’s state chair, Kelli Ward, ordered the Maricopa County Board of Supervisors to turn over all 2.1 million ballots cast in the county for the November 2020 election. The senate then hired an unknown Florida company, Cyber Ninjas, run by a Trump supporter, to conduct the audit. Earnest volunteers allegedly audited the ballots as they were placed on spinning lazy Susans, looking for irregularities including whether traces of bamboo might be present in the ballots, in case fake ballots were smuggled in from Asia. As of press time, the results of the count still haven’t been released. But experts point out that for the audit to continue for so long without actual proof of fraud, combined with efforts by Republicans in other states to undermine the 2020 election, could destroy trust in elections. As disinformation spreads and voters can’t agree on basic facts, some fret that American democracy is in decline. When it all falls apart, you can thank Arizona.

Arizona was one of the most important states in the 2020 presidential election, with its 11 electoral college votes hanging in the balance. Trump was counting on another Electoral College victory and needed most of his key states — including Arizona — to come through for him. Then came an election call that no one, least of all President Trump, had expected. Arizona was going Biden. For Biden supporters, especially those in Arizona, this was a magical and unexpected event. Even faithful Democrats found it slightly unbelievable, given that hundreds of thousands of votes remained to be counted. But in the end, Fox News was right. So, naturally, it fired its political editor, Chris Stirewalt, who correctly projected Arizona’s win.

Celine and Kevin Rille put the “co” in co-working — their space is comfortable, collegial, and most of all, it’s about community. These two didn’t just buy a building, throw up walls, and start collecting rent. Instead, they treat this club like family — and that’s what it feels like in all the best ways. The word is out, too; the Rilles recently expanded to the building next door. From the rosé on tap, jars of snacks, and regular happy hours (during non-pandemic times) to the gorgeous work and community spaces, weekly yoga, and convivial atmosphere, this is the place to see, be seen, and co-work.

Short Creek, a community of current and former members of the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, is only about a six-hour drive from Phoenix, but philosophically, it may as well be on another planet. So we’re grateful to Utah journalist Ash Sanders and Arizona’s own Sarah Ventre for giving us an inside look at that remote, insular world through their 10-part podcast, Unfinished: Short Creek, from Witness Docs and Critical Frequency. The pair spent years reporting on the community before debuting the series in fall 2020. Through unbiased reporting of their own and the voices of dozens of members of the community, Sanders and Ventre teach listeners about a part of Arizona culture that is often sensationalized but rarely understood. It’s no wonder that it gained national acclaim, including making The Atlantic and The New Yorker‘s lists of best podcasts of 2020.

We were excited to get the vaccine, of course. We were less excited about driving from central Phoenix to Glendale, in the middle of the night, to wait in line for somebody to jam a needle into our arm. So we were surprised to find ourselves moved almost to the point of tears upon arrival at State Farm Stadium, which since the beginning of January had been transformed into a 24/7 vaccination factory, the largest such site in the state and one of the largest in the country. (President Biden called the effort a “national model” after it cranked out more than 100,000 shots in less than three weeks.) A well-coordinated team of mostly volunteers greeted us, directed hundreds of cars, checked us in with iPads, helped the medical staff administer the shots. Like a lot of the previous year, the experience felt like something out of a sci-fi movie. The only difference was that, this time, under the bright-white parking lot lights, surrounded by all these smiling people saving lives, we had finally made it to the happy ending.

We’re thrilled for these Phoenix-based veteran journalists that their April 2021 book, Driving While Brown: Sheriff Joe Arpaio Versus the Latino Resistance, is getting national acclaim (including a recent rave review in the Los Angeles Review of Books). But we’re equally gratified that the book exists as an invaluable chronicle of the 24-year Arpaio Era, one that saw Arizona gain an international reputation for illegal, cruel treatment of Latino people. Driving While Brown, which was published by University of California Press, is meticulously researched and includes crucial backstory on Arizona history and the early life of Arpaio himself. You’ll probably spend a lot of your reading time angry about the things that happened here, but don’t forget to be appreciative of the wave of Latino activism that arose during that period of time and that continues to advocate for equality and immigrant rights.

A man wearing a Vic Hanny suit walks into Rosenzweig and Sons Jewelers and finds a young Barry Goldwater eyeing a pocket watch. Private eyes lunch at the Saratoga; characters name-drop Carl Hayden and Governor Hunt and Winnie Ruth Judd and Otis Kenilworth, the barber. Jon Talton’s latest crime novel follows a former homicide detective who’s chasing down Depression-era missing persons when he discovers a dismembered body beside the train tracks. Because this is a noir mystery, the murder is linked to powerful people, both good and bad; and because it’s a Talton thriller, the gumshoeing goes on in Phoenix. City of Dark Corners is bursting with cameos by long-gone local celebrities and well-loved places, but even for people who live in Schenectady, the latest from the beloved local historian (Talton’s Rogue Columnist blog charts Phoenix history) is another tightly drawn winner.

Mesa native T.J. Newman used to stock shelves at Changing Hands Bookstore and fantasize about seeing a book of her own on display — a not-uncommon aspiration for a would-be novelist, but one that rarely comes to fruition. Newman bucked the odds this year in grand fashion, though, when her debut novel, Falling, was published in July. Newman, a flight attendant, wrote her thriller — about a pilot who must crash the plane he’s flying or else a terrorist will kill his family — while working cross-country red eyes, and after rejections from 41 literary agents, she got a yes, a two-book publishing deal, and a seven-figure advance to boot. Perhaps most poignant of all, she got her very own book event at Changing Hands in Phoenix (the first in-person event at the store since the pandemic began). Newman’s family, friends, co-workers, and fans gathered to hear her talk about her first novel (she’s already deep into writing the next one) — and to watch a dream come true.

As the founding director for ASU’s Center for Imagination in the Borderlands and a Mohave language preservation activist, Natalie Diaz has been exploring the intersections of language, place, and identity in her work, which this year expanded to include her second poetry collection, Postcolonial Love Poem. It was well-received upon its release, then it became very well-received when it was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry. During a year filled with conversations about social justice related to health care, immigration, and police brutality, Diaz’s poetry created space for readers to consider how one can love and be loved in the context of colonial violence, and gave voice to Diaz’s experiences as an Indigenous, Latinx, and queer woman.

For nearly a century, this expert collection of keen travel stories and scenic photography has documented the hills and valleys of our fair state. In April 1925, Arizona Highways was meant to document the booming road-construction projects of the Department of Transportation, but long after those pathways were paved, the magazine was still publishing, a showcase for some of the world’s best photographs of cactus and cactus wren, of mountains and sunrises. Alongside the stunning shots, you’ll find stories about everything from the water crisis in the Navajo Nation to the best scenic drives in town and beyond. And since this is the social media age, we should remind you that the magazine’s Instagram account (@arizonahighways, of course) is chock-full of that same top-quality photography and always makes us stop our scrolling to appreciate our state’s natural beauty.

We’re big fans of all three hosts of local National Public Radio affiliate KJZZ’s magazine-style program The Show. Steve Goldstein and Mark Brody have the institutional knowledge and journalist acumen it takes to keep us up to date Monday through Friday. But Lauren Gilger’s the one who puts this show over the top. She’s got the news chops for sure, but she also understands how important it is to look beyond the headlines at the ways the arts and culture both reflect and affect our lives. We hope she never trades us for a larger market.

In a sea of options, we prefer to get our local news from KAET-TV, metro Phoenix’s PBS station, and Horizon, which has been on the air for more than 40 years, has long been Channel 8’s crown jewel. That makes Ted Simons, who’s been on the show since 2007, the king. And the guy wears his crown well, managing to always be prepared no matter the topic, and elevating the conversation while still making his guests feel welcome. Simons manages to be hard-hitting and gracious at the same time. Not an easy feat. All hail Ted!

When we think of people doing an outstanding job supporting local music, the DJs of KWSS are right near the top of the list. The indie station will celebrate its 16th anniversary later this year, which means it has spent more than a decade and a half playing songs by local artists and exposing the public to aspects of the Phoenix music scene they may have missed. The DJs are all volunteers, so when you’ve listened to The Jay Cairo Show, Dani’s Diner Retro Hour, or Dubs’ Private Reserve (which just ended a four-year run), remember that you’re tuning in to a group of folks who care enough about bringing music to the Valley that they’re willing to do it for free.

It’s not every day you see a lowrider car built by an artist placed at the center of a museum gallery, or realize the genius that must go into creating an automotive mashup as a symbol of hybridized cultures and identity. But that’s exactly what happened to visitors who explored ASU Art Museum earlier this year, where the “Body/Magic: Liz Cohen” exhibit expanded on the artist’s previous “Bodyworks” series inspired in part by lowrider culture. The exhibit introduced new audiences to Cohen’s take on labor, identity, and transformation during a year when those very issues were at the heart of contemporary life. The museum’s “Pilot Projects” explored social justice as the nation grappled with police brutality, white supremacy, and health inequities. The museum provided outdoor art experiences amid the pandemic and a robust lineup of virtual conversations with artists. Free admission meant greater access for community members and helped the museum stay relevant and responsive during challenging times. Bottom line: ASU Art Museum was the right museum at the right time.

Gallerist Lisa Sette has a gift for finding connections between contemporary art and contemporary society. For part of the past year, she showed works organized around the color blue, highlighting the color’s historical, aesthetic, and political significance (from ancient times, the color has represented the sky and the sea, and served as a symbol of power, wealth, and status; today, of course, Americans identify it with the Democratic Party). Sette’s midtown gallery is also distinguished by its artist roster, which includes Sonya Clark, Claudio Dicochea, Mark Klett, James Turrell, and many more. Walking into her gallery, you’ll always see a fascinating mix of materials, from Annie Lopez’s cyanotype photography on tamale paper to Mayme Kratz’s delicate animal bones encased in resin. Lisa Sette Gallery is also a great place to discover emerging talent, such as collaborators Merryn Omotayo Alaka and Sam Fresquez, whose large-scale suspended sculptures made with synthetic hair and braid crimps were shown alongside Angela Ellsworth’s bonnets made with thousands of corsage pins for this year’s “Things We Carry” exhibit exploring identity and radical self-expression. Here, both art aficionados and the art-curious find work that stretches their ideas and perceptions, delivering that perfect mix of questions and answers.

New Mexico artist Cannupa Hanska Luger (Madan, Hidatsa, Arikara, Lakota, European) suspended strands with more than 7,000 hand-formed unfired clay beads in a circular form inside a gallery space at Mesa Contemporary Arts Museum, creating the Something to Hold Onto installation that anchored his “Passage” exhibition. Made by artisans across the U.S. and Mexico, the beads represent those who’ve died migrating north across the U.S.-Mexico border. Luger invited several artists to collaborate for this exhibit, including Arizona artists Thomas “Breeze” Marcus (Tohono O’odham) and Dwayne Manuel (Onk Akimel O’odham), who created a monumental spiral-shaped floor mural that Luger mirrored when hanging his work. During a year filled with immigration-related rhetoric, the installation demanded that viewers consider the people behind the statistics, and served as a powerful call to advance justice for asylum-seekers and Indigenous people living in the borderlands.

Tunnel vision marked much of the year, as massive misinformation campaigns, alternative realities, and social media algorithms magnified existing fissures in the country’s political landscape. With “Elemental,” the first U.S. mid-career survey of works by Teresita Fernandez, Phoenix Art Museum (in conjunction with Pérez Art Museum Miami) seemed to foreshadow the rapid rise of literal and metaphorical wildfires, including public health dangers amplified by hubris and denial. Through materials, forms, and ideas referencing colonial histories and present-day exploitations, Fernandez gave viewers the chance to consider the complex nature of the American landscape, and how their own words and actions are altering that terrain. Her Fire (United States of the Americas) 2 installation, comprising the 50 states made with charcoal, was the perfect visual for a year when it felt like everything familiar was simply burning to the ground. The exhibit challenged viewers to forgo tunnel vision for a wider view of the world, even if the view wasn’t always pretty.

Mural artists were busy this year, bringing art to public spaces even as many traditional art venues took a pandemic pause. One mural, painted in downtown Phoenix, stood high above the rest — and not just literally. Miles MacGregor (“El Mac”) and Thomas “Breeze” Marcus collaborated to create a 45-foot-high portrait of a young woman from the Salt River Pima-Maricopa community. She appears to be gazing over the city built on the ancestral homeland of her people. More than a work of art, it’s a new monument to the history of the region and the Indigenous people who continue to call this land home. Elsewhere around the county, old monuments rooted in white supremacy have been coming down. Here in Phoenix, this new monument was raised up, paying homage to Indigenous peoples of the past, present, and future.