The art scene in Phoenix appears to have been reduced to an exposition of harsh, primitive desert landscapes. Shrubs and roads bereft of any sign of life. The occasional abstract piece leaving most visitors perplexed. Watch people walk and gawk in circles, declaring how they'd never pay a month's salary for work they don't understand.
I don't always get it, either. And I've never felt challenged by work here. I just reminisce on the days when this was a venue and the displays were more accessible. At least it's still good for conversation, and that can't be said about every gallery. This place is alright with me.