Every once in a while an artist comes along who manages to introduce entirely new ways of thinking about the world. James Turrell is one such artist. In 1974, Turrell discovered the crater as he was looking for a place to build a naked-eye observatory. A few years later, Turell purchased the land surrounding the crater and has made it his life's mission to transform its interior into a piece of public artwork where the “cycles of geologic and celestial time can be directly experienced.” Turrell designed the crater to give viewers a “transformative sensory experience.” In 1986, the Arizona Daily Star described the project as "transforming an extinct volcano into a techno-artistic Stonehenge."

The crater is nestled within an extinct volcano that spans two miles and rises 580 feet above the desert. The interior eventually will have a labyrinth of 24 viewing spaces and six tunnels, each with a distinctive view of the sky. One of the tunnels, a staggering 854 feet long, is nearly the length of three football fields. The artworks within are shrouded by the crater's natural exterior that seamlessly blends into the landscape.

Turrell's installation seeks to encourage viewers to contemplate light, time, the landscape through providing ways of seeing each and their interplay over time. It also serves as a naked-eye observatory for looking at the sky. Each of the vantage points is aligned with celestial bodies to create various light patterns and view specific astronomical phenomena. Unlike traditional architectural spaces, the tunnels and spaces within the Roden Crater are designed to manipulate, display, and ultimately be concealed by light and shadow. According to Turrell, light itself is his medium of choice.

Turrell's vision for Roden Crater includes creating an ecosystem for artists, astronomers, and visionaries to congregate, share ideas, and collaborate. To allow people to have extended visits, Turrell plans to build over thirty lodges near the crater. The installation is designed and built to last for thousands of years for countless generations to enjoy.

The crater remains incomplete and is only occasionally opened to the public, but its completion remains elusive. Gobbling millions of dollars from foundations and donors, the project may soon reach completion. In recent years, Kanye West who has donated ten million dollars to fund the project, and Arizona State University has taken an active role in providing funding and supporting the craters completion.

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Within the midst of the urban sprawl of Phoenix lies a sanctuary of forward-thinking architectural innovation. One of the few surviving remnants of the late Italian architect and philosopher Paolo Soleri, Cosanti is a significant landmark in ecological design and 20th-century architecture. Cosanti is a portmanteau of the Italian words cosa, meaning things, and anti, meaning against. Cosanti, by its very name, is intended to represent the idea that nature is the best habitat for humanity. Paolo Soleri briefly studied under renowned architect Frank Lloyd Wright. He entered Wright's tutelage the first time he came to America in 1947, at the end of World War II. It is no coincidence that the property is only a few miles away from Taliesin West, Wright's winter home and desert laboratory. Consanti's construction began upon Soleri's return to the States after being commissioned to build a ceramics factory along the Amalfi coast in his native Italy. The grounds served as his home and design studio until he died in 2013. At Cosanti, Soleri conducted countless experiments to expand the current view of architecture during his time. He believed the isolated and expansive suburban communities, which were on the rise, lacked many of the most essential elements of building cohesive and prosperous communities.

Having worked under Frank Lloyd Wright for almost two years, it is no surprise that Soleri was inspired by Wright's blending of indoor and outdoor spaces. This theme laid the groundwork for many of his future projects. All of Soleri's architecture is deeply intertwined with his personal philosophy, based on the writings of the Jesuit priest and paleontologist Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. He believed that life is beautiful. "There is an inherent logic in the structure and nature of organisms that have grown on this planet." Life on any scale consumes matter and makes it live; thus "matter becomes spirit." The human spirit, or consciousness, can mold matter outside of itself, allowing consciousness to bring beauty into the world. By taking what is internal and making it external, civilization is built through our physical creations and societal relations with each other. Soleri concluded that there is no distinction between city and civilization, as both come from the Latin root civis, and as in evolution, form becomes function.

Soleri was not against industrialization and believed it to be a good thing, but he thought that we were allowing technology to become our masters instead of the other way around. Soleri's architecture draws upon nature, conservation, and change motifs. Cosanti is a precursor to Arcosanti, an experimental vertical city located due north of Phoenix. The goal of these prototype buildings was for Soleri to put his philosophy into practice and craft sanctuaries that would bring people closer to nature rather than bulldoze it.

Cosanti takes advantage of Arizona's favorable living conditions and plentiful sunlight. Many of its formations are demarcated by their distinctive half-dome shape, which serves the purpose of passive climate control via solar dispersion. The buildings are also oriented to the south to reduce the effect of direct sunlight entering the dome. Much of Cosanti's anatomy is additionally located below the desert's surface to utilize the natural insulative properties of the Earth. While the small urban estate contains many structures, it is most notable for one of the first experimental structures built by Soleri on the premises. The Earth House is named for the early use of Soleri's variations of earth-casting techniques. Earth-casting is a process that molds its ensemble from the roof down to the ground by pouring cement over an earthen skeleton, followed by the hollowing of the framework after it sets. Soleri's earth-casting styles are better known for their use in the fashioning of his famous bells.

After returning from his foray into Italy, he was inspired by ceramic manufacturing and decided to pursue the art form himself. By using earth-casting, Soleri began to originate ceramic bells laced with distinct tribal patterns and animal figures in styles resonant to the Native Americans of the Southwest. Only a few years later, after the arrival of a skilled bronze caster around the 1960s, did Soleri's bells come into their modern incarnation. Still using the same earth-casting techniques, these bronze bells are like their ceramic cousins but come in a plethora of tortuous designs, animate textures, and bewildering patinas. To this day, Soleri bells are still handcrafted by many skilled in-house artisans and coveted by their owners worldwide. Suppose you plan on grabbing one of these but can't make the trip to Cosanti proper. In that case, you can head over to the Cosanti website, where you can peruse a library of bell sounds before making a purchase. Since its inception, Cosanti was designed to be a multi-purpose property where people could live and work within its confines, emphasizing community and nature. For Soleri and his students, it was a haven to assess new techniques in construction and design. Over the last half-century, thousands have contributed to the Cosanti property, making it one of the longest-lasting and most elaborate collaborative projects continuing to this day. In 2020, what was formerly known as the School of Architecture at Taliesin formally dropped the Taliesin component and moved its campuses from both the Taliesin houses in Arizona and Wisconsin to the sites of Cosanti and Arcosanti, respectively. This move has not gone unnoticed. It shows Soleri's impact on the architectural community as his mentor and producer of Taliesin, Frank Lloyd Wright, is considered the most prolific American architect of all time. But since the future of architecture is trending towards an emphasis on ecological synergy, it's no wonder that the School of Architecture has initiated this transition to a new era. With this move, new life has been breathed into Cosanti as it continues to thrive as a hub of design, ecology, and architecture.

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The Deer Valley Petroglyph Preserve is a site in North Phoenix which is dedicated to the protection of petroglyphs created by the various indigineous communities that have inhabited the Salt River Valley for centuries. These particular petroglyphs were first studied in 1980 when an archaeological expedition team led by J. Simon Bruder from the Museum of Northern Arizona investigated Native American petroglyphs and other artifacts on sites within the area of the Adobe Dam, one of four dam projects by the United States Army Corps of Engineers, which finished construction in 1982, with the purpose of controlling the flow of Skunk Creek. While conducting research in this area, Bruder and his team found over 1,500 petroglyphs and other objects relating to the indigineous peoples who have previously lived near the Deer Valley area and in the Salt River Valley.

Flooding has always been a challenge and detrimental to the development of the greater Phoenix metropolitan area, especially its far northern sections. It is even speculated that the reason why the Hohokam people left the region was due to the increase in flooding. As Phoenix’s population grew, so did the need to control the environment. Efforts to control flooding in the early days of Phoenix often did not work. In 1959, the Flood Control District of Maricopa County was established with the goal of controlling the frequent flooding that has made development of Maricopa County and the Phoenix area much harder. Throughout the mid to late twentieth century, there were a series of major floods which destroyed a great deal of property. Such events helped the local government get the support they needed to pass legislation in order to build the dams and other flood control measures. Dams built by and developed by the Flood Control District, such as the Adobe Dam, have had to be able to properly prevent serious flooding of residential and areas of major human development while also protecting the local ecology. This would also extend to the protection of archaeological sites in the areas in which flooding needed to be further controlled. Such dams were also built with help from the United States Army Corps of Engineers. The Corps of Engineers were first brought in to help with flood control in Maricopa County in the mid 1930s for work on controlling Queen Creek.

Planning for constructing more dams in the Salt River Valley started in the early 1960s. The Comprehensive Flood Control Report was released in 1962. Like the name suggests, this report detailed various projects that would be needed in order to properly control flooding in Maricopa County. The report contained solutions and summaries of various flood control projects as well as estimates for the cost of individual projects. The Adobe Dam was estimated to cost $3,133,000. The total cost of the projects would be around $102,000,000. Nearly all of the projects listed in the report, including Adobe Dam, were completed in the 1980s.

The Skunk Creek Watercourse Master Plan was one such project that had to deal with the conflicting interests of flood control. This plan came up with several goals to do this. Protecting residents from floods and damages associated with flooding and minimizing future costs of flood control and management are some of the stated goals of this project. Consideration for the potential damages done to the natural environment of the areas that needed to be controlled was also important. Ecologically important areas needed to be maintained in order to preserve the integrity of the local environment. While conducting research for this project, the researchers were mostly concerned with what would be the impact on the native ecology of the area of Skunk Creek Wash if it were to be destroyed by development. With preservation of the natural environment being a goal of flood control in Maricopa County, the protection of archeological sites, such as the ones found in Deer Valley, was enabled.

The petroglyphs found in the area were not restricted to one particular culture or group and they do not all originate from a single period in time, instead they cover cultures that date as far back as 5000 BCE and all the way up to 1400 CE. They may not have all been created for the same reason either, though the exact purpose for their creation is currently unknown. Various different images and objects are depicted on the rocks. Some of the petroglyphs include humans, various animals, and abstract shapes like circles and spirals. Members of Native American communities in Arizona and some anthropologists treat the petroglyphs as holding religious meanings even if the reason for their creation is not clear in order to show respect.

The oldest petroglyphs are associated with what is known as the Archaic Tradition of Native American petroglyphs, however the ones found in Deer Valley most likely do not date all the way to the origin of the tradition. The exact dating method for petroglyphs can not always be entirely accurate due to the nature of their construction. However, due to the overall style of the petroglyphs it can be ascertained as to what period they were generally created in. The creators of petroglyphs in the Archaic Tradition are the predecessors to those who would live in the area and create more petroglyphs later on. One such group would be the Hohokam. They were a prominent group in the Salt River Valley and are widely known for their construction of a great canal network that stretched across the valley.

In order to better preserve the petroglyphs and artifacts in the area of the dam, the Deer Valley Petroglyph Preserve was established. This was a joint effort between Arizona State University, the Army Corps of Engineers, and the Maricopa County Flood Control District in order to preserve the petroglyphs from vandalism, which had occurred prior to the preserve's establishment and also to ensure that the dam would not cause further damage to the site. In 1994, the Deer Valley Rock Art Center was built within the grounds of the preserve. It is intended to educate visitors about the nature of the petroglyphs and artifacts found in the area. Since this time, the School of Human Evolution and Social Change at Arizona State University has operated the Deer Valley Petroglyph Preserve and the Rock Art Center.

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The first president of the Phoenix Parks and Recreation Board, William Hartranft, modeled the city's Encanto Park after San Francisco's Golden Gate Park. In so doing, Hartranft channeled the vision of Frederick Law Olmsted, an American landscape architect who helped design Central Park in New York and Golden Gate Park in San Francisco--both of which became models for urban parks nationwide. An early parks commissioner in Phoenix, Hartranft obtained funding for the parks from New Deal programs, the Works Progress Administration (WPA), and the Public Works Administration (PWA). New Deal infrastructure projects, meant to provide Americans relief from the Depression, played an important role in transforming America's infrastructure, including its parks. The WPA sought to expand employment opportunities by providing jobs to Americans to help build infrastructure projects that improved the overall quality of America's public facilities. The PWA provided funding and loans to construct local and state projects. Parks throughout the United States, including San Francisco's Golden Gate Park, Phoenix's Encanto Park, and New York's Central Park, received support from these agencies.  In Phoenix, Hartranft received a handsome grant in 1934 that expanded the boundaries of Encanto Park beyond the 20 acres Phoenix had set aside for what was then known as Dorris-Norton Park. The Works Progress Administration (WPA) granted $900,000 to begin the park expansion. The WPA supervised the work, including projects such as constructing the two-mile-long lagoon. Encanto Park received additional assistance to build amenities in the park. For example, the Public Works Administration (PWA) and WPA supervised, funded, and constructed the "Encanto Clubhouse," which accentuated the existing nine-hole golf course. The large dining room, living room, and lunchroom made Encanto a more luxurious place, and the clubhouse also blended into the native foliage. In 1937, the Encanto Band Shell was completed as a place of performance for orchestras and bands. The developing Encanto Park drew upon competing aesthetics in the American park movement. Features like the lagoon expressed the romanticism favored by influential nineteenth-century park designers. For example, Frederick Law Olmsted's development of Central Park became a model for parks throughout the nation during the nineteenth century, with its emphasis on naturalistic, English-style parks. Landscape architects such as Olmsted argued that such naturalism helped bring urban residents--often living in cities with squalid living conditions--closer to nature and helped to civilize them. The lagoon emphasized this natural aesthetic because water meant more species of fish, ducks, and turtles. More broadly, the park's new name expressed the wonders of nature--Encanto means "enchanted" in Spanish. Not all of the features added by the New Deal support neatly fit the naturalistic park model. The Band Shell, for example, expressed a more rationalistic approach that emphasized parks as functional places for the many diverse communities living in cities. The Band Shell, and even the practical emphasis on fishing and canoeing in the lagoon, welcomed residents to the park as an entertainment space. And indeed, much of twentieth-century park design in the United States favored the functionality of the rationalistic approach, especially with amenities that appealed to children. Encanto Park continued in this direction in 1946 when it added an amusement park that would become one of the park's most prominent features. Kiddieland featured amusement rides that included a train and a carousel. 

edited 12/17/2019: mt

edited 10/07/2022: jls

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In 1978, almost forty years after the Desert Botanical Garden (DBG) opened to the public, the Garden introduced its first Las Noches de las Luminaria. The celebration has evolved beyond candlelit desert paths; the annual event now includes bell choirs, bands, dancers, and light shows. In creating Las Noches de las Luminaria, the DBG drew upon a cultural form that had taken a new meaning in the American Southwest in the early twentieth century. Lighting luminaries during the Christmas season originated in the American Southwest, specifically in northern New Mexico. It grew out of the efforts by Anglo leaders in Sante Fe to create a distinctive identity for the town and to promote that sensibility to Western travelers. Early twentieth-century Anglo leaders of Santa Fe had redefined the city's history by appropriating Native American and Mexican culture and traditions. Through its art, architecture, ceremonies, literature, and pageantry, the town established a mythic identity that has drawn tourists for more than one hundred years. These efforts included highlighting the city's architecture during the Christmas holiday season through the use of luminaries lining the parks, streets, walls, and flat rooftops of Santa Fe. Beginning in the 1920s and through the '60s, use of luminaries spread through the Southwest, including to Arizona. For example, in 1939, an article from the Arizona Daily Star encouraged Tucson residents to adopt the use of luminaries in their homes. It described how, in the previous year, the author saw the use of luminaries in Old Pueblo, Arizona and stated that the flat roofs of Southwestern style homes, such as in Santa Fe, Old Pueblo and Tucson, made excellent places for luminaries. Years later, for Christmas 1950, Tucson's Desert Garden Club members urged homeowners to use luminaries and "other beautiful decorations" to beautify the city for the holidays. Luminaries were again encouraged the following year as a way to capture the desert holiday spirit. In an article the next year, they added additional incentives, appealing to children with the argument that luminaries may help direct Santa Claus to their Tucson homes. If the use of luminaries in the Southwest has become a winter holiday custom over the past one hundred years, the precise origins of the use of luminaria have been obscured by that twentieth-century mythmaking. Santa Fe historian Pedro Ribera Ortega promoted the luminaria tradition in Santa Fe by linking it to the hills of Spain and Italy. Around the city of Belén, Spain, shepherds lit small, contained fires at night to stay warm, and in time these became known as luminaries. According to Ortega, it was during Spain's conquest of the Americas that luminaries traveled across the Atlantic Ocean, where they became popular in Mexico during winter nights. As Christian missions spread around the Mexican territory, indigenous peoples who converted to Christianity displayed luminaries to help lead the infant Jesus Christ into their homes. Ortega reported that poems and regional songs even describe the tradition of luminaries in Christmas celebrations. One poem by Dorothy Linney reads, "The little fires that blaze on Christmas Eve; are lit by simple folks who believe; the Christ Child wanders softly through the night; and blesses all who set a guiding light." According to Ribera, the decline of the Spanish missions contributed to the decreasing use of luminaries. It was this tradition that Santa Fe appropriated when it began lighting the city in the early twentieth century.   In creating its own Las Noches de las Luminaria in 1978, the Desert Botanical Garden in Phoenix drew upon the southwestern cultural tradition that had emanated from Santa Fe to broaden its appeal and create a new relationship with the community. Indeed, community outreach became more central to the Garden in the 1970s, when Charles A. Huckins became director and reinvented the Gardens by making them more accessible, including creating trails and education programs. As a thank you to the Phoenix community and its volunteers, the Desert Botanical Garden hosted a one-night winter celebration, showcasing the luminaria festival for the first time. That first Las Noches de las Luminaria displayed approximately three thousand luminaries lining the trails and buildings; it was free for all visitors and open from 7 to 9 pm. Webster Auditorium, decorated with "piñatas and desert holiday arrangements," also offered hot chocolate and cookies. The festival grew larger with each passing year. By its fortieth anniversary, Las Noches de las Luminaria displayed more than eight thousand hand-lit luminaries. The event now includes luminary donated by individuals, as well as volunteers recruited for lighting the thousands of luminaries each year. The Garden also hosts various concerts during the festivities, from Native American Flute players and Mariachi bands to brass bands and bell choirs. Instead of one evening, Las Noches de las Luminaria can be seen throughout December.

edited 12/18/2019: mt

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The development of the McDowell Sonoran Preserve drew from many currents within the region's history and American culture more broadly. Among these was a connection to the broader emergence of the environmental movement in the United States.

The links emerge from interviews with early stewards and leaders such as Greg Woodall who worked as an archeologist and survey for the McDowell Sonoran Conservancy's early incarnation as a land trust. Woodall's environmental ethic traces back to the first Earth Day in the 1970s, his training as an archeologist, and his work on environmental campaigns throughout the West.

Woodall's environmental consciousness developed in part through his work as a river guide along the Grand Canyon. While working as a crew member with Grand Canyon Dories in the 1980s, Woodall met famed environmentalist Martin Litton. Through his work crewing dories, Woodall honed his unique approach to storytelling and environment--a style that would become part of guided hikes that he gave on behalf of the Preserve effort during its formative years. Hikes and tours were an educational and outreach strategy that was vital to helping the Conservancy build awareness of the unique desert landscapes the remained undeveloped in North Scottsdale in the 1990s. Woodall recalled rowing the Coeur d'Alene and Tuolumne--boats named after rivers that environmentalists had struggled to reclaim from years of degradation caused by dams, extractive industry, and environmental abuse.

When Woodall worked for Litton, he leaned from a leader who spent more than 70 years on the front lines of American environmental movement. The New York Times described Litton as the environmental movement's "Jeremiah — the crier in the wilderness who spotted the threats, condemned the desecraters and rallied the leadership to the defining preservation conflicts of the early 1950s through the '80s." Litton's life and environmentalism spun around the Grand Canyon. Beginning in 1963, he led the battle against the US Department of Interior's 1963 plans to build a pair of dams across the Colorado River that would fill the canyon with water. Joining the board of the Sierra Club, Litton fought to raise public awareness to the plans through campaigns of letter writing, as well as taking out full-page advertisements in major newspapers, such as the Washington Post. One headline read, “Should We Also Flood the Sistine Chapel So Tourists Can Get Nearer the Ceiling?” By 1968, the program had been scrapped. Shortly afterward, Litton created the Grand Canyon Dories that took tourists through the canyon in a flat-bottom boat, running the company from 1971 to 1988.

Woodall's contributions to the effort to preserve McDowell Sonoran Preserve--creating an oasis of the Sonoran Desert in Scottsdale--drew from the broader environmental ethic at the heart of the American environmental movement as it re-emerged in the middle of the twentieth century.

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In 2003, Tempe Town Lake finally emerged on the bed of the Salt River after nearly 40 years of planning. In 1995, the beginning of the construction was marked by a huge ceremony near Tempe Beach Park, which was a focal-point for recreation in Tempe.. The concept for the lake called for dispersed islands, but plans were changed making the lake a body of water flowing along the channel.

The idea for the lake first developed in 1966, when a group of architecture students at the Arizona State University was challenged by the dean of the college of architecture to create a plan that could combine flood control and environmental design. The students created the “Rio Salado” project. The purpose of this project was to transform the Salt River into a major asset for the town of Tempe.

After years of public debate, construction work started in 1995 south of Curry Road in Papago Park. Bridges were built for people and cars to cross over the lake, which is two miles long and 800 to 1200 feet wide, depending on where it is measured. It can contain up to 980 million gallons of reclaimed water. Four years and many millions of dollars later, Tempe Town Lake was completed on June 2nd, 1999, and water from the Salt River started flowing in, filling it within a month and a half.

Later, on November 6th, 1999, a large opening ceremony was held to celebrate the completion of the project. More than 30,000 people attended the event, and Mayor Giuliano gave a speech concluding, “… and to the citizens of Tempe, this is your lake, this is your project, this is your legacy.” The lake was open to the public the very next day.

The dams of the lake are made out of strong, inflatable rubber barriers secured to a concrete base. These tubes are controlled by a system that regulates their inflation and deflation so the water can flow easily. On the west dams, water can flow over the top of the dams to create a waterfall. This water is then recollected and pumped back into the lake

The dam that produced the lake is only the most recent dam along the Salt River. As early as 1906, Arizonans sought to slow down the unpredictable flooding of the Salt River and to provide a consistent water source to the growing valley through the construction of dams. The Roosevelt Dam was dedicated on March 18, 1911. More dams and canals were constructed over the following years, and the Salt River was diverted in many places for agricultural, industrial, and domestic uses.

As the Salt River was dammed, the riverbed adjacent to Tempe (as well as Mesa and Phoenix) became drier and drier through the year, which is what prompted efforts to rethink the Salt River in the 1960s.

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During the twentieth century, jobs,  mild winters, sunshine, and outdoor recreation attracted millions of people from all over the United States to Arizona. Boating and sport fishing on Arizona's many reservoirs lured newcomers from states like Wisconsin, Illinois, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and even New York. By the 1980s, Arizona Highways -- a long running journal published by the State of Arizona-- routinely touted Arizona as one of the best sport fishing locations in the nation despite the fact that it has the second least amount of surface water in the country. 

Arizona’s urban fishing program began in 1983. The main goal of the program was to provide more convenient fishing opportunities for people living in the city. It was an alternative to long-distance drives to different states. This made more people want to move to Arizona in hopes of a better life. The Game and Fish Department, along with the Parks department of Chandler, Mesa, Phoenix, Scottsdale, Tempe, and Tucson made this possible for Arizona. There are about 27 different species of fish commonly caught by the Arizona urban fisherman. Of the 27 species of fish found in Arizona, there are 160 stream management systems along with 80 lakes of impounded water. Of all the bodies of water in Arizona, one stands out when living in Phoenix: the Papago Ponds.

The Papago Ponds are located in east Phoenix right next to the Phoenix Zoo in Papago Park. Three ponds cover 6 acres and range from 7 to 11 feet deep. They are home to channel catfish, rainbow trout, largemouth bass, bluegill, red dear sunfish, crappie, tilapia, and carp, stocked by the Arizona Game and Fish Department. Water for the ponds comes from the Valley's extensive canal system which transports water from the Salt, Verde and Colorado rivers and groundwater. 

Today, fishing and hunting bring hundreds of millions of dollars into Arizona's economy. With Salaries and wages totaling to $708 million, the hunting and fishing industries were responsible for 21,000 jobs. These fishermen and hunters generated $155 million in federal taxes along with $123 million in state taxes. The dry desert state is blessed with abundant opportunities for fishermen and outdoorsmen alike.

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