Missouri: Jefferson City: Three Observers on the Greenway

 On a recent walk along Jefferson City's Greenway, I encountered these three observers: 

Cultural Pedestrians sculpture on Jefferson City Greenway. Missouri. October 2022. Credit: Mzuriana.

The tall watchers immediately put me in the mind of the people and descendants of the Clotilda, "the last slave ship," in Mobile, Alabama, my most recent temporary base. 

I especially like this connection because Jefferson City is the home of Lincoln University, a historic black college or university (HBCU) ..... 

... As the American Civil War drew to a close in 1865, two regiments of emancipated Black soldiers took action on a decision that would reverberate from their Army station at Fort McIntosh, Texas, all the way to the Missouri state capital. The men, who learned to read and write as part of their training in boot camp, were determined to start a school for other freed Black people when they returned to their homes in Missouri after the war. The soldiers of the 62nd United States Colored Infantry, whose pay averaged $13 a month, came up with $5,000 to establish an educational institution in Jefferson City, which they named Lincoln Institute. The 65th Colored Infantry contributed another $1,400 to the school’s endowment. ... 

 

The allure of the installation's verticality, the faces, the jewelry - got me to stop my walk so I could look at all of the details. And isn't that one of the objectives of art? To seduce one's gaze, to prompt thought, to feel something - joy? contentment? sadness? discomfort? illumination? 

 

Cultural Pedestrians sculpture on Jefferson City Greenway. Missouri. October 2022. Credit: Mzuriana.

Cultural Pedestrians sculpture on Jefferson City Greenway. Missouri. October 2022. Credit: Mzuriana.

The installation also reminded me of my visits to the sculpture gardens in Colorado in 2016 here and here and here. 

It seem serendipitous to learn that the artist, Sue Quinlan, who created Cultural Pedestrians, is based in Colorado. 

Cultural Pedestrians was awarded to City of Jefferson Cultural Arts Commission through Sculpture on the Move, a program provided by Creative Communities Alliance, based in St. Louis. Participating communities rent a sculpture for a two-year period, making it more affordable than purchasing the sculpture. It costs a community $1,000 a year to rent these pieces and after a two-year period, the community has the option of buying the piece to have it on permanent display.

 Source: Jefferson City News Tribune

 

 

Tucson, AZ: Sunset at Unity

Unity on Third Avenue and Grant, Tucson, Arizona. June 2019.

On Sunday evening, I examined the imposing sculpture on the corner of Third Avenue and Grant. Having driven past a number of times previously, it had struck me as a grand piece of public art on a prosaic bit of real estate in midtown Tucson.

Unity on Third Avenue and Grant, Tucson, Arizona. June 2019.

It's called Unity. The artists are Ben Olmstead and Simon Donovan.

Unity on Third Avenue and Grant, Tucson, Arizona. June 2019.

It was a lagniappe to investigate the art work as sunset approached. Whereas the moon adores El Paso and Juarez, the sun enjoys making flamboyant exits in Tucson.

Unity on Third Avenue and Grant, Tucson, Arizona. June 2019.

I admire Tucson for installing a beautiful - and large! - work of art along a rather ordinary stretch of street, but through which so much traffic flows.

Art that is accessible to most, irrespective of income, lifts all of our spirits. It walks our talk of the unalienable right to the pursuit of happiness.

Below is a slide show of more Unity photos:

Van Horn, Texas: On the Way to Big Bend National Park

Van Horn, Texas. August 2017.

I spent my first night as newly rootless in Van Horn, Texas.

Van Horn, Texas. August 2017.

My first impression of Van Horn was rather ho-hum, but the town revealed whimsical charms in the early evening, after I finished settling into my motel room and then poked about a bit.

Right across the street from my motel was a city park. Mountain backdrop. A train track. Sturdy trees with muscular trunks. Globe lamps that glowed like moons. Squeaky squawky birds that loitered in a circular sand pit like loud adolescents with nothing else to do on a Saturday night except hang out in a park and stir up some trouble.

Van Horn, Texas. August 2017.

Further down the strip was a sculpture park at a business called Los Nogales.  Extra-terrestial insectiles and the like, along with a disheveled desk that looked artsy and intentional in the foreground of the mountain landscape.

Van Horn, Texas. August 2017.

Van Horn, Texas. August 2017.

Listen to these squeakers in the park!

A Van Horn slide show:

El Paso: Lurid Lagartos

Lagarto sculpture, San Jacinto Plaza, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

I'm afraid I'm not fond of the alligators in downtown El Paso. They lurk in the middle of the downtown plaza that some call the Plaza de los Lagartos (alligators) and some call San Jacinto Plaza. I prefer the latter name.

Lagarto sculpture, San Jacinto Plaza, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

They remind me of the godawful "art" at the entrance to an amusement park in Tbilisi, atop Mtatsminda. I took some shit for decrying the grotesqueness of the "art,"  but I stand by my verdict.

Mtatsminda, Tbilisi, Caucasus Georgia.

There was a time when real, live alligators were kept at the Plaza, beginning in the late 1800s and ending in the 1960s. There's even a Louisiana connection, with the arrival of "Jack and Jill, a pair who arrived in a cigar box from Louisiana."

Lagarto sculpture, San Jacinto Plaza, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

The fact was, however, that the alligators suffered regular indignities, not to mention cruelties and even death, at the hands of visitors.

Lagarto sculpture, San Jacinto Plaza, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

Here's a photo of a vintage El Paso postcard, showing the live alligators in the plaza:

Postcard of live alligators in San Jacinto Plaza, El Paso, Texas. Postcard photographed by Red Oak Kid.

Lagarto sculpture, San Jacinto Plaza, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

Maybe I wouldn't find the durn things so objectionable if the colored lights didn't shout so loudly.

Lagarto sculpture, San Jacinto Plaza, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

El Paso: The Yandell Christ

Yandell Christ, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

El Paso is a bowl of eye candy with its murals, varied architectures, daytime and nighttime vistas of the mountains, the sister cities, the pendulous moon.

Yandell Christ, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

The first time I saw the jumbo, three-dimensional Christ on a wall on East Yandell, my mouth may have fallen open a bit as I stared while driving by, exhaling a long "wahhhhhhhh" of admiration.

Yandell Christ, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

The site is the La Fe (Faith) Health Center on the corner of Brown and East Yandell. The artist is Cesar Inostroza.

Muralist Cesar Inostroza, El Paso, Texas. Source: Talent Pages.

Yandell Christ, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

I look at the mural section above and, frankly, I get angry. I get angry because the mainstream political chatter never recognizes the power that fused cultures bring to the United States - the respect for one's current patriotic home and for one's heritage home, the bedrock connections to family, community, and faith. The artistic symbols such as those above - the flags, a father and daughter, religious affiliation - are everywhere. Everywhere. We. Are. All. Americans.

Yandell Christ, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

Yandell Christ, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

Yandell Christ, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

Do you think Christ gives a fuck about a wall?

Toronto: "Henry Moore’s Big Bronze Whatchamacallit"

"Henry Moore’s Big Bronze Whatchamacallit", Toronto, Ontario, Canada. June 2016.

My hostess, Sandy, and I visited the Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO) during one of its free-admission evenings. While on a docent-led tour, we entered a gallery with work by Henry Moore.

I liked Mr. Moore's smooth, touchable, curvy lines.

Arguably, it's Henry Moore's work that pushed Toronto out of its allegedly-staid comfort zone in 1966. Fifty years ago.

His piece was a modern "whatchamacallit" which was to anchor the new City Hall plaza.

So much controversy surrounded the sculpture that the city posted a 24-hour police guard during its installation.


From the Torontoist, July 2010, which revisited a 1966 story about the new public art work in front of the new Toronto City Hall: Henry Moore's Big Bronze Whatchamacallit:

Shown a depiction of the sculpture, Controller Herbert Orliffe asked in puzzlement: "What meaning has the sculpture? What does it represent?"

"It is not representative of anything at all," Professor Arthur answer. "You don't look for meaning in a modern piece of sculpture - it's not like the Peter Pan on Avenue Road - you look for the beauty of form and mass. It is not supposed to have meaning [in that fashion]." 

The above is precisely what causes my friend, Sandy, consternation when she looks at some modern art. Lack of discernible meaning irritates her. Indeed, she, I, and her friend, Heloise, had an energetic trialogue about same as we walked past The Archer one day.

I subscribe to the belief that we humans are hard-wired to place meaning on everything we see. So even if Professor Arthur's analysis of modern sculpture is true - in theory - it fails in practice. We will always place meaning on what we see. When we can't fit any meaning to something we see, we become disgruntled.

As for me, its obvious that Henry Moore's The Archer is entirely phallic.
 

Toronto: Standing

Man Standing. Toronto, Ontario, Canada. June 2016.

Toronto, standing.

The Jury, Toronto, Ontario, Canada. June 2016.

Toronto: Brains

Brains in Toronto. June 2016.

Over the course of my series on Toronto, I think you may come to the same conclusion I did: Notwithstanding its tame veneer, there is something just a little whack about Toronto.

I present Exhibit A, to wit:

I've seen many cities and towns that sponsor art events that focus on a particular animal or object. A few examples:

• Horses in Amarillo
• Fiddles in Opelousas
• Donkeys in Carrizozo
• Cows in Perth
• Frogs in Rayne

But in Toronto, it's brains. Brains.

Brains in Toronto. June 2016.

Colorado: Loveland: Benson Sculpture Garden

Benson Sculpture Garden, Loveland, Colorado. May 2016.

Earlier in the day, I toured the Art Castings of Colorado foundry in Loveland. Now it was time to visit the city's Benson Sculpture Garden.

Benson Sculpture Garden, Loveland, Colorado. May 2016.

Raindrops added a poignancy to the works, both man-made and natural.

Benson Sculpture Garden, Loveland, Colorado. May 2016.

It pleased me to see so many women subjects in the park. Ordinary women, doing ordinary things.

Benson Sculpture Garden, Loveland, Colorado. May 2016.

For a relatively small park, there is rich complexity in Benson Sculpture Garden. There are open spaces, wooded spaces, wide pathways, arched bridges, still water, moving water. Sculptures include women, men, children, mammals, birds, reptiles. Some figures are quiet, some full of movement, some sad, some joyful. There are trees, flowers, shrubs, grasses short and tall. You could visit the park many times and discover a new facet each time.


I've got not one, but two slideshows of the sculpture garden.

The youtube version with background music is here (about five minutes):

And below is a slide show from Flickr that you can move through as quickly or slowly as you wish:

And it's free. This is so important because it makes art and a natural space accessible to everyone in a community, regardless of income.

Colorado: Loveland: Making Sculpture

 

Making of a sculpture, Art Castings of Colorado. May 2016.

A surprise to me about Colorado - the Denver-Fort Collins corridor, anyway - is the abundance of sculpture in public spaces.

Based on lightweight research, it appears there are three art foundries in the small town of Loveland. There are others in Berthoud and Paonia. 

I was lucky enough to be able to tag along with an already-scheduled tour group of Art Castings of Colorado, thanks to the generosity of the foundry and the group leaders.

 It takes a village ...

I never put much thought into how a sculpture achieves its final state of being.

So it was a revelation to learn how many painstaking steps - and how much post-production artistry - it takes to render a sculptor's raw form into its final, durable maturity.

Below is a flow chart that describes the process. Begin with "pattern making," which is the first meetup with the sculptor's newborn chick.

Foundry flow chart. Credit: ZHY Casting.

Below is a slide show of the sculpture-finishing process, roughly in sequential order of the steps:

Foundry artists

Not long ago, I read an interview with a literary translator, Dr. Margaret Sayers Peden. Of working with the original writers whose work she was translating:

"[I worked with] authors who knew English very well and were happy to answer questions and untangle problems, with authors who knew no English at all and preferred not to be involved, and with authors who knew a little English but thought they knew it as well as their own, and thus were sure they were able to choose the best [English words] for their book." 

Making of a sculpture, Art Castings of Colorado. May 2016.

There seem to be two dimensions of art foundry work:

• Technical knowledge and skill in the mechanics of the process; and
• Artistic sensibility and skill in "translating" the sculptor's malleable form into the hard form. 

Making of a sculpture, Art Castings of Colorado. May 2016.

The tour guide noted that some sculptors, once they feel assured there is a shared understanding of desired outcomes, release the process to the foundry's experts. Some sculptors want to be hands-on with all steps that involve creative judgment. In the latter case, sometimes this works well and sometimes it doesn't. The artistic eye, paired with technical knowledge, for creating a sculpture is different from the creative eye and technical knowledge in the foundry process.

Fascinating.

I'm tempted to work in a metaphor of baking a multi-layered, elaborately-decorated cake, and the multitude of different skills, ingredients, equipment, and energy that goes into that, but we've both got lives to lead.


Peculiar parts and pairings

One of the rooms at the foundry is a vast work space. Works in progress sit on shelves, table tops, on pallets, or on the floor.

Sometimes the results are amusing, like this one:

Making of a sculpture, Art Castings of Colorado. May 2016.

My God! My balls! What are they doing over there!? 


Sometimes they set up a cognitive dissonance for me that is uncomfortable:

Making of a sculpture, Art Castings of Colorado. May 2016.

On one hand, I see a smiling child, so I know the final product will be a happy one. On the other hand, I see dismemberment and violence, a reminder of the dark history we Americans share.


There are the odd historical juxtapositions that feel whimsical:

Making of a sculpture, Art Castings of Colorado. May 2016.

Finally ... Here is a piece going to its forever home:

Making of a sculpture, Art Castings of Colorado. May 2016.

Colorado: Boulder: Leanin' Tree Museum and Sculpture Garden of Western Art

Aspen in May. Leanin Tree Museum of Western Art, Boulder, Colorado. May 2016.

For May 2016, I visited my sister, "Murphy," at her place in Longmont, Colorado.


Between Longmont and Boulder is the Leanin' Tree production plant and store. It is also home to the Leanin' Tree Museum and Sculpture Garden of Western Art.


Although the overcast days of Guatemala followed me to Colorado, it was a spirit-lifting sunny day when I visited Leanin Tree.

I move through museums pretty quickly. If a work doesn't grab my attention, I zoom right by. Which reminds me of when Murphy and I went on a tumultuous road trip to Colorado, years ago, back when we both still lived in Missouri. Murphy and I stopped in Cripple Creek (before there was a casino). We entered the history museum together. About 20 minutes later, I exited the museum and sat outside on the steps to wait for Murphy to finish her walkabout. I smoked back then, so I had a cigarette while I waited, probably several. I waited and waited and waited for Murphy to come out. After what seemed an eternity, I re-entered the museum to see where the hell she was.

She was still in the first room! Reading each tiny card in front of each tiny exhibit. Holy fuckity-fuck.


Anyway. Back to the present.

There were a number of works at the Leanin' Tree museum that drew me.

Ed Mell's Sonoran Sunbreak. Unfortuately, I'm not able to find a good image of this painting, but here's a piece in a similar style, called Towering Clouds, Lake Powell:

Towering Clouds, Lake Powell, by Ed Mell. Credit: Ed Mell Gallery

Jackson Hensley's The Prayer. Again, didn't find a good image for this, but here is another of Mr. Hensley's with a similar style:

Painting by Jackson Hensley. Credit: Jackson Hensley Gallery.

Also, I liked works by:

• Gary Ernest Smith, Two Barns and Oregon Pioneers
• Oleg Stavrowsky, The Raid
• John Schoenherr, specifically, Fox Hunt II and Big Hunter
• Michael Coleman, After the Rain
• Fritz Scholder, Cow Kachina #2
• Gordon Snidow, Ramrod

Ramrod, by Gordon Snidow. Credit: Gordon Snidow.

Outdoors were some fine pieces, which included bears, deer, a snake, and other critters large and small. I felt very taken with The Beauty of the Harvest, by Martha Pettigrew. It is a sculpture of a Pueblo woman with a basket of corn. Couldn't seem to take a picture of her that in any way captured her presence. Here is another visitor's depiction, which I link you to, although I'm not in love with how much the photographer saturated the colors. The photo I have at the top of this post is the tree that is behind this sculpture.

There was also this horse, welded together from recycled metal and objects. The Leanin Tree patriarch commissioned the artist, Dixie Jewett, to create this piece. Therefore, she was able to ask her benefactor for pieces to include in the horse, pieces that might have special meaning to him.

Ironfire by Dixie Jewett, Leanin Tree Museum of Western Art, Boulder. Colorado. May 2016.

Ironfire by Dixie Jewett, Leanin Tree Museum of Western Art, Boulder. Colorado. May 2016.

Other Western (as in American West) art museums I've been to include:

• Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
• Gilcrease Museum, Tulsa, Oklahoma

The Leanin Tree Western Art Museum is free. It's a good day when you can surround yourself, at no charge, in beauty on a balmy, sunny afternoon in May.