By November 2018, Donald Trump was already well into his presidency. Everything many Americans feared had come true, and there was a copper-bottomed combovered nincompoop running their country. That month, I took my elder daughter to Marfa, in Texas, to see the extraordinary arts hub there: the Donald Judd Foundation, the funny Prada pop-up shop (which was by then world-famous), and all the bohemian galleries and shops. She was an art student, and it was a treat for her, and for me.
This art-filled, far-flung oasis in the West Texas desert is a town of the past but much talked about as a temple of the future, an art enclave that has attracted an eclectic, seemingly unlikely pack of creatives who have helped transform it into a thriving minimalist arts mecca.
