EDITOR'S LETTER

Like leisure suits and the self-righteous vapor of youth, when it seemed cool to walk around quoting Bukowski, there are some things that should be kept in the closet. They’re part of the past, but not a reflection of the here and now. That’s how we feel about “the pamphlet” — the first iteration of “Arizona Highways.” Same name, same state, same dependency on ink and paper. But that’s about it. That’s where the parallelism ends. At best, the pamphlet is a distant relative. Cousin Eddie in a rusted RV.

The 14-page newsletter made its debut on July 25, 1921. The “contents” teased a story about the State Highway Department’s new administration building, another story about “an aeroplane hangar received from the U.S. Government” and a piece titled “Résumé of State Highway Activities.” The preamble was referred to as the “Whyfore,” a word that not even the Oxford English Dictionary recognizes. The introduction was written by Thomas Maddock, the state engineer at the time. It reads:

Millions of dollars thru legislative appropriations, county and city bond issues are being expended yearly in Arizona in the construction of highways either directly or indirectly under the supervision of the State Highway Department.

The taxpayers of Arizona have a right to know how this money is being spent. They have a right to know all there is to know about this department, for our highway program is coming to be regarded secondary in importance only to our public school system.

For the purpose of keeping all interested persons informed concerning highway development in this state, it has been decided by this department to issue a news letter from time to time under the title of Arizona Highways.

It will be the aim of Arizona Highways to give out accurate and complete information. Heretofore the publicity from the department has been unsystemized and haphazard, giving rise to misinformation articles, which is not conducive to the efficient carrying out of any public enterprise.

In the publication of an inexpensive pamphlet of this kind the Department believes that it is meeting its obligation to the public, and that the slight expense entailed is a legitimate one. Arizona Highways will be mailed free to any taxpayer sufficiently interested to make the request.

The pamphlet lasted for only nine issues — until December 1922. Twenty-eight months later, in April 1925, the second iteration of Arizona Highways came to be. It was a good year. The Great Gatsby hit bookshelves in 1925, the Grand Ole Opry transmitted its first radio signal, and Leica marketed the world’s first 35 mm camera. It was a good year for birthdays, too. Born that year were Paul Newman, Margaret Thatcher, Johnny Carson, Robert F. Kennedy and a magazine called The New Yorker, which published its first issue in February 1925. A few weeks later, Arizona Highways made its debut.

We’ve come a long way in the years since. Although there were random samples of traditional travel journalism in the beginning, for the most part, the new Arizona Highways was a glossier, black and white reflection of the old pamphlet. All of that would change, however, with the arrival of Raymond Carlson in 1938. It was our editor emeritus who launched the revolution that would make the magazine a worldwide phenomenon. And his primary ally in that effort was four-color landscape photography.

The first photograph he purchased was made by Esther Henderson. Her work, and the work of her early colleagues, was impressive. However, the photography in Arizona Highways would gradually develop into something more complex.

“It was a stylistic evolution,” Photo Editor Jeff Kida says. “From the beginning, photographers were thinking about aesthetics. But they were limited: Their equipment was big and cumbersome, their film and lenses were slow, and everything had to be shot from a sturdy tripod.”

The arrival of better equipment would spur the evolution, but Jeff says the driving force was creativity. Photographers started studying each other, and looking for ways to set themselves apart. And they did. To the point that even dilettantes can tell the difference between a Josef Muench and a David Muench. An Ansel Adams and an Eliot Porter.

Jack Dykinga, Shane McDermott, Claire Curran, Suzanne Mathia, Adam Schallau ... they’re all masterful at shooting the landscapes of Arizona, but their images are distinct. And they’re continually looking for new ways to present old subjects. So are so many of our best photographers.

Creative evolution. It’s the reason we’re not wilting after 95 years. It’s the whyfore of our continuing success.