Rachel Harrison Moore to the point
Dallas City Hall, Dallas, Texas
Ever since I first moved to Dallas in 1982, I was fascinated by the Plaza in front of Dallas City Hall. It seemed so modern, so stark, so big city. As a public space, as the years went by, everyone realized it was not all that successful – that it was too sterile and artificial and people didn’t like hanging out there. Still, it always amazed me.
There was that sculpture too, that famous piece, The Dallas Piece, by Henry Moore.
The funny thing is… the first time I saw Dallas City Hall Plaza and the Henry Moore sculpture, it was in an obscure PBS made for TV film of an Ursula K. Le Guin novel – The Lathe of Heaven. It was shown once on the little screen before disappearing for decades (now it has arisen from the dead… it is even available on Youtube). I happened to catch it and it made a huge impression on me. Enough that there was a real thrill in visiting the Dallas locations.
Now, when she was looking at the site for the Nasher XChange, looking at The Dallas Piece, Rachel Harrison noted that the sculpture had a fence, a barricade, around it. That bothered her, a work of art like that should be exposed and available, not locked up.
Henry Moore’s Dallas Piece, barricaded for the Turkey Trot.
I had seen the fence… when I saw it the thing had been erected for the massive crowds that throng the place for the Turkey Trot run. The rest of the time, it isn’t there.
Still, she has a point… and the point is what she built.
This was a very easy sculpture to get to. We rode over to City Hall Plaza right after hearing the lecture at the Nasher. I rode on to the Hyatt Regency then, catching the Red DART line back home.
Rachel Harrison Moore to the point Dallas City Hall, Dallas, Texas
Amanda Popken, in front of Moore to the point (click to enlarge)
Rachel Harrison Moore to the point Dallas City Hall, Dallas, Texas (click to enlarge)
Rachel Harrison
New York, New York Moore to the point
1500 Marilla St.
City Hall Plaza
A giant arrow pointing to Henry Moore’s sculpture, Three Forms Vertebrae (The Dallas Piece), calls attention not only to the work but to the conditions that frame our encounters with works of art.
For Nasher XChange, Harrison has fabricated a giant pink arrow to be installed in City Hall Plaza in downtown Dallas. The arrow points to an existing sculpture at the site, Henry Moore’s sculpture, The Dallas Piece. Harrison’s project grew out of a recent visit to Dallas City Hall during which she was surprised to see Moore’s outdoor sculpture encircled by metal barricades. For Harrison, the barricades recalled the metal stanchions now commonly found surrounding sculptures in museums, a feature Harrison has sometimes referred to in her own work.
Although the barricades have been removed, most visitors still walk around the sculpture, rather than moving through it as Moore had intended. Harrison’s giant arrow calls attention not only to Moore’s often-overlooked piece but to the conditions that frame our encounters with works of art.
Rachel Harrison Moore to the point City Hall Plaza
Rachel Harrison Moore to the point City Hall Plaza (click to enlarge)
Rachel Harrison Moore to the point City Hall Plaza (click to enlarge)
Charles Long Fountainhead
Northpark Center, Dallas, Texas
In keeping with my project of going to all ten of the Nasher XChange sites without using a car, after work I rode my commuter bike over to the nearest DART station, locked it up in a Bike Lid, and took the train down to Park Lane station.
I walked across Central Expressway to get to the shopping center. That felt really strange – Northpark is the cold dark center of the Dallas upper crust car culture. Swarms of honking, smoking metal carapaces jammed themselves along the frontage roads while a thick stream clogged the freeway lanes below.
There were other people on the sidewalks, working their way to or from the mall. A thin trickle of what were obviously employees – from retail, cleaning crew, restaurant workers – dishwashers to waiters, all wearing weary uniforms, trudging home or dragging their way to work, shift after shift.
I waited a long, long time for a walk signal, then crossed the penultimate road. I reached the other side and was moving on down the sidewalk when I heard the distinctive squeal of brakes and skidding rubber on concrete. Then came that awful sound of expensive sheet steel rending – a pop and crunch. A thin rancid cloud of burnt tire treat floated by.
I turned and looked into the mass of automobiles to see the horde slowly sorting itself out with the green light. One young man in an old sedan sporting a very fresh dent in the front grille came slowly sorting himself out of the fray, winding from lane to lane until he escaped the traffic. He made a right turn and I expected him to pull over and wait for his victim, but he suddenly accelerated and then, he was gone… like a fart in the wind.
A hit and run.
It was all too fast for me to think. No chance to make a note of a license, I’m not even sure of the color, let alone the model of the car.
While I walked away I saw a shiny Lexus SUV pull over with its back end smashed. A couple of other cars pulled up beside, and a clot of women piled out, all standing on the sidewalk and gesticulating.
Charles Long, a Long Branch, NJ native, currently resides in Mt. Baldy, CA. His sculptures have explored the abstract autonomous art object as a psychological investigation into the nature of self and others and have been made from diverse media such as coffee grounds, rubber and hair from Abraham Lincoln.
For his Nasher XChange commission, Long plans to create an interactive, waterless fountain entitled Fountainhead that extends his ongoing investigation into the viewer/artwork relationship through the use of new technologies. The installation performs every function of a traditional fountain, only virtually.
Projected images of sheets of dollar bills move serenely down the surface of a sculpted monument, flowing like water, instantly adapting to every nook and curve, accompanied by a serene soundtrack scored especially for it. Three kiosks topped with interactive screens face the monolith and offer an opportunity for visitors to donate money to one of the three designated charities, much like the coins tossed into the Trevi Fountain are donated to charity. After payment is tendered, visitors are encouraged to flick a virtual coin off of the screen toward the sculpture resulting in an exuberant splash of dollars going in every direction. The three designated charities were selected by the artist and Nasher Sculpture Center director, trustees and staff.
“In creating this new work for Nasher XChange I was conscious of the social role that sacrifice has played throughout history. In Fountainhead, I sought to encourage the passerby to give up something of value before an anticipating audience. It’s a bit of harmless fun, yet it echoes ancient public sacrificial ceremonies and it seems pertinent to be doing this kind of sacrifice today in this very popular shopping center where visitors have been seeing public art for decades,” said artist Charles Long. “One of my interests as a sculptor has been to play with the image of value and art, and in this work I wanted to see what a massive fountain of money issuing endlessly forth might feel like as a public spectacle. There is decadence, but then there is this social act of giving. I chose charities proximally close to the lives of the participants so that their giving had a more tangible meaning.”
Nasher XChange will extend the museum’s core mission beyond its walls and into Dallas’ diverse neighborhoods, alongside key community partners, to present advances in the rapidly expanding field of sculpture, raise the level of discourse on the subject within the city, and contribute to broader national and international conversations on public sculpture. As the only institution in the world exclusively dedicated to collecting, exhibiting, and researching modern and contemporary sculpture, the Nasher Sculpture Center is uniquely positioned to investigate this growing practice of sculpture in the public realm.
Nasher XChange also references the history of the Nasher Collection itself: from the time of its early formation, major works from it were displayed at NorthPark Center, the indoor shopping mall created in 1965 by Raymond Nasher, and that tradition of making museum-quality art available for everyday enjoyment continues today. Millions of people every year have the opportunity to experience this fascinating and significant art located throughout NorthPark Center.
Long has been interested in the intersection between art, sound, and viewer participation since he collaborated with the band Stereolab in the mid-90’s to create sculptures with sound components that could be accessed through headphones. In his latest public art piece, Pet Sounds, Long evolved his ideas as new technological possibilities were developed with a special focus on activating sound through touch.
Long is an internationally exhibited artist with more than thirty solo shows at such venues as Site Santa Fe; St. Louis Art Museum; Orange County Museum of Art, Newport Beach; Sperone Gallery, Rome; London Projects, UK; and Tanya Bonakdar Gallery, NYC. Long has taught at California Institute of the Arts, Art Center College of Art and Design, Otis College of Art and Design, Harvard University and currently is faculty and chair of the UC Riverside Department of Art.
Fountainhead Charles Long Northpark Center Dallas, Texas
I donated five dollars to the North Texas Food Bank. You swipe your credit card, push the button. The cash projected on the fountain swirls around in a virtual splash
Out of the wide variety of the Nasher XChange art exhibition the sculpture/work that is closest to where I live is X, a sculpture done by Liz Larner on the University of Texas at Dallas (UTD) campus. It’s ten easy bicycle miles, with a trail the whole way. On cold and wet Sunday morning, I bundled up and rode up there – forgetting my map, so I had to wander the campus a bit until I found the sculpture.
There are actually two versions. A preliminary wooden version sits inside a lobby of the new arts and science building while a polished metal version sits in a deep, narrow grass-covered atrium outside. It’s a surprisingly isolated location – I can’t imagine too many people visiting it there, unless you count the students walking by overhead along some exterior corridors.
In some ways I like the wooden, temporary version better. It seems warmer and more organic – a nice contrast to the abstract mathematical variable qualities of the X.
Liz Larner X, UTD, Richardson, Texas
Liz Larner X, UTD, Richardson, Texas (click to enlarge)
Liz Larner
Los Angeles, California X
800 W. Campbell Rd.
University of Texas at Dallas
Edith O’Donnell Arts and Technology Building
Two sculptures elegantly symbolize the intersection of art and technology.
Liz Larner is a Los Angeles-based artist whose work has been characterized by a sustained examination into the nature of sculpture. For Nasher XChange, Larner has created two sculptures for the new Edith O’Donnell Arts and Technology Building as a symbol for the exchange of ideas between these disciplines. Arts and Technology is a new interdisciplinary curriculum at UT Dallas that fosters collaboration at the intersection of the arts and humanities with science and engineering, and is a partnership between the Erik Jonsson School of Engineering and Computer Science and the School of Arts and Humanities.
The innovative X-shape of the sculptures, described by the artist as continuing her “investigation into the open form and the use of line to create volume,” has been developed over several years and could not have been realized without the use of digital modeling technology.
Larner’s experience working both with and without technology intrigued faculty at UT Dallas, and made this pairing a natural fit as the program progresses through its first year. A wood version of the sculpture, on view inside the building, embodies the intersection of traditional sculpture media and new technology. The stainless steel version, being made for the outdoor courtyard, evokes the futuristic and technological, providing a fleeting succession of colors and flashes of light and shadow reflecting the activities and experiences of the building’s occupants and visitors.
Liz Larner X, UTD, Richardson, Texas (click to enlarge)
Liz Larner X, UTD, Richardson, Texas (click to enlarge)
Liz Larner X, UTD, Richardson, Texas
From the Label Text: Liz Larner X, 2013
Stainless steel
Courtesy of the artist and Regen Projects, Los Angeles
Los Angeles-based artist Liz Larner engages some of the most intrinsic issues of sculpture, such as the relation of line and mass, or of volume and density, yet she does so in unexpected ways, in a range of materials and techniques. For Nasher XChange, Larner has created two sculptures for the new Edith O’Donnell Arts and Technology Building that can be seen as figures enacting the exchange of ideas between these disciplines. The X-shape of the sculptures, described by the artist as continuing “my investigation into the open form and the use of line to create volume,” has developed over several years and could not have been realized without Larner’s use of digital modeling technology. A wood version of the sculpture, on view inside the building, embodies the intersection of traditional sculpture media and new technology. A stainless steel version, seen here, evokes the futuristic and technological, providing a fleeting succession of colors and flashes of light and shadow reflecting the activities and experiences of the building’s occupants and visitors.
Liz Larner X, UTD, Richardson, Texas Indoor, Wooden Version (click to enlarge)
My Raleigh Technium road bike reflected in the window outside X, UTD, Richardson, Texas
In October, I went to a lecture at the Nasher Sculpture Center about the Nasher XChange – a fascinating exhibition of ten varied artistic works spread out across Dallas. Listening to the speakers – one subject they kept coming back to again and again is how big the city is, how spread out the sites of the XChange are, and how much driving they have had to do on this project. They kept talking about Dallas as a “car oriented city” and the way the city seems to consist completely of massive freeways and parking lots.
The lecture was entertaining and interesting and I agree, mostly, with the speakers. However, this is not how it has to be. If you never get out of your car then the city does seem to consist of freeways and parking lots.
It is huge and spread out – but I have learned that if you have a DART train pass and a bicycle, you can get anywhere. I made the decision, right then and there, to visit all ten Nasher Xchange sites without using a car. I immediately took a look at the map and began plotting my routes.
The weather has been nasty this winter which has really cut into my bike riding – plus I’ve been sick a lot (Cedar Fever, actually) so I didn’t get out as fast as I wanted to. As of this weekend, I had been to (or seen) six. There were still three sites in South Dallas that were still on my list.
I worked out a route – take the Red DART line from Richardson to Downtown Dallas, then the Green Line to the Buckner Station. Then I could ride to the sculpture Flock in Space at the Trinity River Audubon Center, then a trail through the Great Trinity Forest on to Black & Blue Cultural Oasis in the Hills at Paul Quinn College. At that point I would turn north and ride through the neighborhoods to the third Nasher exhibit – Buried House. Then catch the DART Blue Line at the Kiest Station – transfer to the Red Line downtows and back home. The biking distance was 12.5 miles – not too far.
But this was a part of the city that I was not familiar with at all. I wasn’t too comfortable with my route; sometimes it’s hard to decide how bad traffic is based on Google Maps – but you have to do the best you can do.
The weather today was not too good, cold with a little spitting rain, but there’s a cold front blowing in and it’s not going to get better soon. The Nasher XChange Exhibition ends soon. So it was now or never.
The only problem I had getting from the train station to the first exhibit – at the Trinity River Audubon Center was the fact that the neighborhood had a lot of folks with pit bulls running loose. I can usually outrun a dog on my bike, but it’s not a lot of fun.
I’m going to have to go back to the Audubon Center again – with nicer weather and more time. The bike trails are really nice. The sculpture was very cool. But I had somewhere to get to so I snapped a few pictures and set out again.
Flock in Space, Ruben Ochoa Trinity River Audubon Center, Dallas, Texas (click to enlarge)
Flock in Space, Ruben Ochoa Trinity River Audubon Center, Dallas, Texas (click to enlarge)
From the Label Text:
Ruben Ochoa Flock in Space, 2013
Concrete and steel
Ruben Ochoa is a Los Angeles-based artist who has created a unique body of work that transforms common materials into breathtaking sculptures. For his Nasher Xchange commission. Ochoa has responded to the origins of the rinity River Audubon Center – now a beautiful nature preserve at the edge of the largest urban hardwood forest in the United States – as an illegal dump site in Southeast Dallas. Ochoa has installed a group of concrete and steel sculptures derived from post footings in chain link fences. In conversation with Brancusi’s iconic sculpture Bird in Space, Ochoa envisions his installation as man-made forms morphing into organic movement, reminiscent of a flock of birds. By evoking the site’s change from urban dumping ground to place of scenic beauty, Ochoa’s work reflects the malleability and resiliency of nature.
My commuter bike in front of Flock in Space, Ruben Ochoa Trinity River Audubon Center, Dallas, Texas (click to enlarge)
Flock in Space, Ruben Ochoa Trinity River Audubon Center, Dallas, Texas (click to enlarge)
Why is the dumpster decorated? Who is that in the photo?
Design District Dallas, Texas (click to enlarge)
Art is where you find it.
You will never see stuff like this from a car (is that a good thing? maybe) – you are moving too fast and, hopefully, looking where you are going. On a bicycle you move slow (but, unlike walking, you can cover quite a bit of area) enough to see around, to notice things, and to stop and smell the dumpsters whenever you feel like it.
I took the train to the Park Lane station and walked across Central Expressway to Northpark Center to look at one of the Nasher Xchange sculptures there. To walk to Northpark is a subversive act in itself. It is the epitome of car culture, of consumer culture, of upper crust shopping culture.
I felt like I was an alien, a barbarian spy infiltrating a pecunious fortress.
Of course Northpark is more than a mere shopping experience. It is the heart of Raymond Nasher’s real estate empire and the main source of the funds he used to build his incredible collection of sculpture and his museums, including Dallas’s Nasher Sculpture Center. There are some incredible artworks installed in the mall.
So I had to walk around and look at them. It is a very odd and unique setting for some amazing art. To be there looking at sculpture and not toting little bags with designer names or logos on them…. it was surreal.
Ad Astra, Mark di Suvero Northpark Center Dallas, Texas
Ad Astra, Mark di Suvero Northpark Center Dallas, Texas (click to enlarge)
Poppies, by W. Stanley Proctor Liberty Plaza Farmer’s Branch, Texas (click to enlarge)
I was riding the DART Green line that runs out from Downtown Dallas Northwest, roughly following I35, and had a nice window seat. I was looking out at an area I don’t get to visit very often, looking for something… anything… interesting. Of course, one thing I always look for is public sculpture.
It was only a quick glimpse and I wasn’t sure what I saw. It looked like a nice little park with a nice little concrete walking trail around it. On the side facing the train tracks it looked like a sculpture, but I couldn’t be sure. Made of dark bronze metal, it spread out in a triangular shape, almost like a draped fabric.
In the split second I had, it almost looked like Batman sitting on a bench.
The other day I was in the area for something else and decided to swing by and to get a closer look at what I had seen. I wondered if I had imagined the whole thing.
I wasn’t too far wrong. It was a sculpture called Poppies, by W. Stanley Proctor. It was not Batman, but a World War Two veteran. He had a long flowing coat and I had seen it from behind.
I have always been interested in art that looks completely different from a different direction. The classic example is the San Francisco de Asis Church in Taos, New Mexico – made famous by Georgia O’keeffe. I’ll never forget visiting it – I was surprised at how cool it looked from the front.
Something there is that doesn’t love a postman,
That sends the cardinal steel twisting willy nilly.
And spills the upper hemicycle lines akimbo,
And makes the lid lean for two arms too bent.
The work of welders is another thing:
I have come after them and tried to make repair,
To find their fiery alchemy is too staunch,
Where they have left not one steel plate on plate,
But they would have the parcels and pouches out of hiding, exposed to the rain and sleet.
To please the yelping dogs.
“Basketball is an intricate, high-speed game filled with split-second, spontaneous decisions. But that spontaneity is possible only when everyone first engages in hours of highly repetitive and structured practice–perfecting their shooting, dribbling, and passing and running plays over and over again–and agrees to play a carefully defined role on the court. . . . spontaneity isn’t random.”
― Malcolm Gladwell
Irving Arts Center
Irving, Texas
George Tobolowsky (Dallas, TX) It’s a Slam Dunk (2007)
Welded Steel
George Tobolowsky (Dallas, TX) It’s a Slam Dunk (2007) (click to enlarge)
“I am more than just a Serious basketball fan. I am a life-long Addict. I was addicted from birth, in fact, because I was born in Kentucky.”
― Hunter S. Thompson
George Tobolowsky (Dallas, TX) It’s a Slam Dunk (2007) (click to enlarge)
“We old athletes carry the disfigurements and markings of contests remembered only by us and no one else. Nothing is more lost than a forgotten game.”
― Pat Conroy
George Tobolowsky (Dallas, TX) It’s a Slam Dunk (2007)
“And I would be the first to admit that probably, in a lot of press conferences over the time that I have been in coaching, indulging my own sense of humor at press conferences has not been greatly to my benefit.”
― Robert Montgomery Knight
When I first graduated from college I took a job in a small city isolated out on the windswept Great Plains, only a few miles from the little town my family was from. I didn’t know anybody in town and there wasn’t all that much to do anyway so I thought I’d take a class at the local junior college. It was funny, I had trouble enrolling (I had to get permission from a dean) because, even though I had four years at university, my high school transcripts were unavailable, lost in the revolution.
I had never been able to take psychology – the classes often filled up, with preference given to students in the major, plus it was impossible to fit a class in around my extensive laboratory courses. So I enrolled in Psych 101 at the junior college.
It was shocking how easy the class was, especially after coming through four years of chemistry, math, and physics. I barely had to study and I don’t think I missed a single question on a single exam. Yet the other student constantly complained about the amount of work assigned and the difficulty of the tests. It was like high school. I remember thinking that if at university anyone would dare (and none ever did) complain, the professor would have simply pointed to the door.
The instructor, however, was excellent. A very old man, he taught an interesting class and dealt with the whining with more patience than I thought possible… or necessary.
One day he came up to me before class and asked me a question.
“Your last name, did you have a father from around here.”
“Yes, my dad is from a small town nearby.”
“Did he play basketball?”
“Yes.”
“I remember being the referee when your father played in high school. I had never seen an athlete like that. He was the best basketball player I ever reffed.”
“You’re kidding. You remember him after all this time?”
“Yes, it was quite a game. I remember I fouled him out of the game near the end.”
The next weekend I told this story to my father.
“He’s lying,” my father said, “I never fouled out of a game.”
“Don’t be amazed if you see my eyes always wandering. In fact, this is my way of reading, and it is only in this way that reading proves fruitful to me. If a book truly interests me, I cannot follow it for more than a few lines before my mind, having seized on a thought that the text suggests to it, or a feeling, or a question, or an image, goes off on a tangent and springs from thought to thought, from image to image, in an itinerary of reasonings and fantasies that I feel the need to pursue to the end, moving away from the book until I have lost sight of it. The stimulus of reading is indispensable to me, and of meaty reading, even if, of every book, I manage to read no more than a few pages. But those few pages already enclose for me whole universes, which I can never exhaust.”
― Italo Calvino, If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler
Travelers Deborah Masters Audubon Park, New Orleans (click to enlarge)
If we find poetry in the service station and motel, if we are drawn to the airport or train carriage, it is perhaps because, in spite of their architectural compromises and discomforts, in spite of their garish colours and harsh lighting, we implicitly feel that these isolated places offer us a material setting for an alternative to the selfish ease, the habits and confinement of the ordinary, rooted world.”
― Alain de Botton, The Art of Travel
Travelers Deborah Masters Audubon Park, New Orleans (click to enlarge)
“What is that feeling when you’re driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? – it’s the too-huge world vaulting us, and it’s good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.”
― Jack Kerouac, On the Road