Category Archives: sculpture

Dancers MM – Texas Sculpture Park

Posted on by Bill Chance

I had some time and it was a gorgeous Texas spring day. I also had an empty digital memory card and a fully charged camera battery.

Looking around the web I found a link to an office park up in Frisco that had a cool looking sculpture garden in it and a number of other artworks spread around. So off it was up the busy tollroads to see what there was to see.

I’m a sucker for sculpture and there was a lot of it. A couple hours and about two miles of walking later my memory card was full. There were a few sculptures left, so I suppose I’ll have to go back sometime later. In the meantime, I should be able to get a few blog entries out of this.

I’ve been working on photo manipulation with my new Wacom Tablet and a copy of Corel Painter – please indulge my learning curve.

At the entrance was a large sculpture by Jerry Daniel – Dancers MM, 2000 concrete, steel – two enormous dancers welcoming cars off the highway and into the park.

Dancers MM, Jerry Daniel, Frisco, Texas

Dancers MM, Jerry Daniel, Frisco, Texas

Dancers MM, Jerry Daniel, Frisco, Texas

Dancers MM, Jerry Daniel, Frisco, Texas

Dancers MM, Jerry Daniel, Frisco, Texas

Dancers MM, Jerry Daniel, Frisco, Texas

Bicycle and Glasses

Posted on by Bill Chance

When I first moved to Dallas and worked downtown, I remember trooping out together at lunch and walking from the Kirby Building (which was offices then) over to the Spaghetti Warehouse which at that time (1981) sat alone in an empty sea of abandoned brick warehouses, west of downtown.

“This is such a cool area, somebody ought to do something with it,” I said.

My cow-orkers laughed at me, as was their habit. “This place, these old empty buildings, what a silly idea.”

But of course, in the next few years they were developed. The West End Marketplace was installed in a gigantic old cracker factory next to the Spaghetti Warehouse and for years it was the place to go for things to do. I remember going down there on the day it opened (maybe 1985?) and it was very exciting. The building had four floors of retail, topped with a food court and movie theaters. Next to the building was Dallas Alley, a narrow neon lit defile that gave access to a plethora of nightlife options. If memory serves, it had at least five nightclubs built into its base: a piano bar, a contemporary live music club, a blues bar, a saloon, and a giant multi-level dance palace. It was a blast.

But all good things come to an end, and big city nightclubs and urban retail… the end usually comes suddenly. After a few years of bright lights and a few years of decline, it all went dark. The West End Marketplace closed and is still mostly vacant. Dallas Alley was reduced to a slightly scary route to get north to the now-growing Victory area. The Spaghetti Warehouse is still there.

Back in the day, Dallas Alley was lined with sculptural tributes to great Texas Musicians. These have been stolen, vandalized, or fallen into disrepair. It’s a shame.

Roy Orbison’s glasses, though, still remain.

My old Raleigh Technium and the Tribute to Roy Orbison in Dallas Alley.

My old Raleigh Technium and the Tribute to Roy Orbison in Dallas Alley.

Spider

Posted on by Bill Chance

“There are spiders living comfortably in my house while the wind howls outside. They aren’t bothering anybody. If I were a fly, I’d have second thoughts, but I’m not, so I don’t.”
― Richard Brautigan, The Tokyo-Montana Express

Louise Bourgeois, Spider

The Sydney and Walda Besthoff Sculpture Garden, New Orleans Museum of Art

spide_w
(Click for full size version on Flickr)

“Spider venom comes in many forms. It can often take a long while to discover the full effects of the bite. Naturalists have pondered this for years: there are spiders whose bite can cause the place bitten to rot and to die, sometimes more than a year after it was bitten. As to why spiders do this, the answer is simple. It’s because spiders think this is funny, and they don’t want you ever to forget them.”
― Neil Gaiman, Anansi Boys

“There was less than I’d expected in the rainy-day fund that Mom had kept in the bottom of an underwear drawer in a panty hose egg labeled ‘DEAD SPIDERS.’ As if I hadn’t always known it was there. As if I wouldn’t want to look at dead spiders.”
― Adam Rex

More Borders

Posted on by Bill Chance

Some more photographs I took of “Borders” – a sculptural exhibition by Steinunn Thorarinsdottir.

Some of the sculptures were looking at old posters advertising the arts stuck to the walls of the construction site.

Some of the sculptures were looking at old posters advertising the arts stuck to the walls of the construction site.

borders4

borders5

borders6

The view from across the street, in front of the Meyerson Symphony Center.

The view from across the street, in front of the Meyerson Symphony Center.

Texas Woofus

Posted on by Bill Chance

I enjoyed the warm weather Sunday by taking in a long bike ride from White Rock Lake down the Santa Fe Trail through East Dallas and on through the mirrored canyons of Main Street Downtown.

On the way back I took a detour from Deep Ellum down Exposition and cruised around Fair Park for a bit. I love the Art Deco art and architecture and sculpture (here and here) down there.

This time, I stopped by and snapped some photographs of an odd piece of Art Deco solid artistry outside the Swine Building – the Texas Woofus.

From the plaque:

According to sculptor Lawrence Tenney Stevens, the Texas Woofus is a composite figure with Texas long-horns, a sheep’s head, a stallion’s neck with mane, a hog’s body, the dulap of a sheep, turkey tail feathers, wings, and a highly decorated strip of a blanket.

The original was created in 1936 for the Texas Centennial. Its fate remains a mystery.

So, the story goes that the original was created – a 9 foot tall, 2,700 pound bronze – but a short time later it simply disappeared. Some people think the religious fundamentalists stole it because it resembled a pagan god – or that is was removed for repair and misplaced. At any rate, for 60 years it was forgotten, until Craig Holcomb, executive director of the Friends of Fair Park saw some old shots of the odd sculpture and thought it was very cool.

A fund raising dinner, The Woofus Dinner, was created and wealthy Dallasites attended, woofing hello and singing a specially-written ditty, “The Woofus Song,” ponied up about fifty grand, enough to rebuild the Woofus.

In 2002 the thing made its re-appearance.

For something with this hallowed a history, it’s sure hidden away in an obscure nook. I had stumbled across it during the Fair one year while on a quest for a bathroom and always wanted to get back for a more leisurely look.

So here, without further ado, I give you, the Texas Woofus.

The Texas Woofus

The Texas Woofus

The Woofus has a pipe in his mouth. During the State Fair a stream of water rushes forth. I'm going to have to see that someday.

The Woofus has a pipe in his mouth. During the State Fair a stream of water rushes forth. I’m going to have to see that someday.

I love the geometric style of Art Deco.

I love the geometric style of Art Deco.

Moss

Posted on by Bill Chance

The Sydney and Walda Besthoff Sculpture Garden, New Orleans Museum of Art

Kenneth Snelson, Verlane Tower

George Segal, Three Figures and Four Benches

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moss
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When I was a kid, living in places like the Northeast or the Midwest I became fascinated by Spanish Moss. I don’t remember when I first heard about it…. These were the days long, long before the internet, of course, and even television was only in black and white and hard to see (only three channels anyway) so I would have had to have read about it in a book or maybe seen some in a film.

The thought of a thin, filmy plant growing in the air, hanging from trees, seemed so exotic to me, like it was an alien organism growing on our own earth. I did as much research as I could – which at the time consisted of looking up articles in the various encyclopedias in the school library – and thought about what the stuff looked like in real life.

We were going to move from Kansas to Panama and would be flying out of South Carolina. This would take a long drive, three days – with stops in Memphis and Atlanta. Thinking about the trip, I realized that there would be Spanish Moss along the way. As we moved farther south I eagerly stared out of the window. Somewhere out of Memphis, little bits of fuzz began to appear here and there until once we were close to Atlanta, it was all over the place.

That evening, I walked around our hotel looking at the Spanish Moss. It was everywhere and it was as amazing as I thought. I couldn’t believe that people actually lived in the midst of such wonder and didn’t give it a second thought. The next day, in Charleston, South Carolina, I found even more – it hung thick in the trees like a living cloud, an aerial wave of plant life. I still remember the feeling of seeing the stuff, feeling it in my fingers, looking at it up close.

There is an amazing quality to the curiosity of youth… a passionate sense of wonder.

Now I live in the South and see the stuff all the time…. But when I do I still feel the echoes of those days.

Lizard Basking on the Famous Sculpture

Posted on by Bill Chance

I am not a demon. I am a lizard, a shark, a heat-seeking panther. I want to be Bob Denver on acid playing the accordion.

—-Nicolas Cage

Ida Kohlmeyer, Rebus 3D-89-3

Ida Kohlmeyer, Rebus 3D-89-3

The Sydney and Walda Besthoff Sculpture Garden, New Orleans Museum of Art, New Orleans

Rebus 3D-89-3, Ida Kohlmeyer

rebus

“The lizard brain is hungry, scared, angry, and horny.

The lizard brain only wants to eat and be safe.

The lizard brain will fight (to the death) if it has to, but would rather run away. It likes a vendetta and has no trouble getting angry.

The lizard brain cares what everyone else thinks, because status in the tribe is essential to its survival.

A squirrel runs around looking for nuts, hiding from foxes, listening for predators, and watching for other squirrels. The squirrel does this because that’s all it can do. All the squirrel has is a lizard brain.

The only correct answer to ‘Why did the chicken cross the road?’ is ‘Because it’s lizard brain told it to.’ Wild animals are wild because the only brain they posses is a lizard brain.

The lizard brain is not merely a concept. It’s real, and it’s living on the top of your spine, fighting for your survival. But, of course, survival and success are not the same thing.

The lizard brain is the reason you’re afraid, the reason you don’t do all the art you can, the reason you don’t ship when you can. The lizard brain is the source of the resistance.”

― Seth Godin

Born in New Orleans in 1912, Ida Kohlmeyer has been called one of the best Abstract Impressionist painters of the South. Her career as an artist did not begin until her 30s, after she graduated from Newcomb College at Tulane University with a degree in English literature. In 1934, she traveled to Mexico City and was inspired by Central and South American folk art, which would remain an influence throughout her life. Several years later she began taking painting and drawing classes at Tulane with Pat Trivigno, who encouraged her to pursue her study of artwork. Upon receiving her master’s she showed her first paintings at the Fifty-Fourth Annual Spring Exhibition at the Isaac Delgado Museum of Art in New Orleans.

In 1956, Kohlmeyer moved to Provincetown, Massachusetts to experiment with Abstract Expressionism alongside Hans Hoffmann. That same year she traveled to Paris and met Joan Miró, who also inspired her abstract work. However, by the mid 60s she tired of abstraction and moved on to create sculptures with wood and Plexiglas. After experimenting briefly with figurative painting, she returned to abstraction in the 70s. Kohlmeyer died in her hometown of New Orleans in 1997.

“It comes from a very ancient democracy, you see…”
“You mean, it comes from a world of lizards?”
“No,” said Ford, who by this time was a little more rational and coherent than he had been, having finally had the coffee forced down him, “nothing so simple. Nothing anything like so straightforward. On its world, the people are people. The leaders are lizards. The people hate the lizards and the lizards rule the people.”
“Odd,” said Arthur, “I thought you said it was a democracy.”
“I did,” said Ford. “It is.”
“So,” said Arthur, hoping he wasn’t sounding ridiculously obtuse, “why don’t people get rid of the lizards?”
“It honestly doesn’t occur to them,” said Ford. “They’ve all got the vote, so they all pretty much assume that the government they’ve voted in more or less approximates to the government they want.”
“You mean they actually vote for the lizards?”
“Oh yes,” said Ford with a shrug, “of course.”
“But,” said Arthur, going for the big one again, “why?”
“Because if they didn’t vote for a lizard,” said Ford, “the wrong lizard might get in. Got any gin?”
“What?”
“I said,” said Ford, with an increasing air of urgency creeping into his voice, “have you got any gin?”
“I’ll look. Tell me about the lizards.”
Ford shrugged again.
“Some people say that the lizards are the best thing that ever happenned to them,” he said. “They’re completely wrong of course, completely and utterly wrong, but someone’s got to say it.”
“But that’s terrible,” said Arthur.
“Listen, bud,” said Ford, “if I had one Altairian dollar for every time I heard one bit of the Universe look at another bit of the Universe and say ‘That’s terrible’ I wouldn’t be sitting here like a lemon looking for a gin.”

― Douglas Adams, So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish

Les Ondines and Technium

Posted on by Bill Chance

Henri Laurens
French 1885 – 1954

Les Ondines
1932
Placed in Memory of Ted Weiner 1911-1979

Les Ondines, Henri Laurens

Les Ondines, Henri Laurens

Raleigh Technium

Raleigh Technium

Technium 460
Raleigh USA
1986

Les Ondines, Henri Laurens

Les Ondines, Henri Laurens

Meyerson Symphony Center Garden, Dallas, Texas, Arts District

Drummer

Posted on by Bill Chance

A desire to make a choice of some kind… I am concerned with magic, awe and wonder, with ontological insecurity.
—-Michael Sandle

The Drummer, Michael Sandle

The Drummer, Michael Sandle

The Drummer, Michael Sandle, The Sydney and Walda Besthoff Sculpture Garden, New Orleans Museum of Art

I am very aware of the way that Britain has a habit of interfering overseas. Years ago I did a Mickey Mouse machine-gun sculpture as a comment on the Americans in Vietnam. I was interested to discover from my historical research how we’d meddled with the place after the Japanese surrender. It wasn’t the Americans who started it and it wasn’t the French. It was us.

Coming to the Royal Academy: death, brutality and Adam and Eve of No 10
Controversial artwork showing Blairs naked unveiled as the centrepiece of summer exhibition
—-Michael Sandle

Belgrano Medal – a Medal of Dishonour