Public Art

Our class met outdoors at the Pappajohn Sculpture Park to review and discuss "public art". We could each pick specific sculptures to to do a little research on, but we were also given a little handout with questions comparing public and private art. I have to admit having the same question running through my head in this public sculpture park as I do in every other public sculpture park I have visited: What do you mean I can't touch it? What do you mean I can't climb on it?

I think it is completely absurd to think that you can put items like this in a public venue and not expect that to happen. Scott Burton's Seating for Eight and Cafe Table 1 are not only the only sculptures that do not have a sign warning us to stay off, but in the description of his pieces in the official brochure from the park, it says that his pieces only become "complete when visitors actually use the pieces. (They) are the only sculptures in the park that visitors are allowed to touch." Really? Are you kidding me?

This particular park was a big boon to downtown DSM - a huge bow to the city, given by John and Mary Pappajohn. The absolute cornerstone to a major downtown vision. DSM wanted to go back to a time and place where people not only stayed after they were done working downtown, but they wanted them to come back after hours and on the weekends, and bring the kids along with them. A number of events and buildings have since sprouted up and around this wonderful park.

Anyone who has been in attendance at an event at the downtown sculpture park, or have even just driven by on a sunny day, will tell you that kids are absolutely drawn to certain pieces and they certainly must touch them. Sometimes hug them. Gary Hume's Back of Snowman (White) and Back of Snowman (Black) regularly have children holding their hands against the smooth, enameled surface and running circles around them - giggling when they see their friends or siblings doing the same thing, running the opposite direction on the other one. Tony Smith's Marriage just screams for kids to climb up on it. I confess, I fight the urge to sit on it myself because the bottom, horizontal section of rectangular steel is just about perfect butt-height to me.

What about Martin Puryear's Decoy? It looks like an old merry-go-round to me. You know the kind that OSHA disapproves of now so they were removed from practically all active playgrounds in America? The kind that if someone pushes too hard and too fast, if you are not hanging on tight, centrifugal force will throw you off of it in a spinning, tumbling, terrifying fall. Once you stop rolling end over end, you can't stop laughing and can't wait to get back on it. The point with this sculpture is that the 108" diameter disc is only a few inches off of the ground - perfect height for toddlers to get up on it and stand up with an accomplished grin that runs ear to ear. If they start running around and fall off the edge, it is into the soft grass that they fall - there isn't even a concrete pad around the edge of this one.

Who hasn't seen a senior picture taken in the last few years that didn't use Jaume Plensa's Nomade? Certainly the most popular piece in the garden, it draws all ages, like kids to candy. Inevitably, there are small children using the letters as rungs on a ladder, inside and outside the sculpture. Fortunately, I have never seen anyone crawl too high on it. I keep expecting to see the same thing happening on Sol LeWitt's Modular Piece, but I haven't yet. That one also looks like a perfect jungle gym to me, but again, these are the types of things not allowed on a playground anymore. Not even the dome-shaped jungle gyms are present on school playgrounds anymore. It makes me wonder of kids are not drawn to that piece because it is more angular? It is not as large and you can't get inside of it - cave appeal is big with kids.

The artist I chose to do a little research on was Ugo Rondinone - he has two of his Moonrise series in this park. I chose him because I did not like the sculptures. These are the ones that when I drive by on the street I think to myself, "My kids could make those with clay". We were going to do that last year as part of my home school art projects, and I think I need to make it happen this fall before the snow flies. Originally, I wanted my boys to do that so they could know that they can make art, just like these famous sculptures, silly as it may seem. Now I want them to do it because after doing a little research, I have a new-found appreciation for them.

They are two of a series of twelve busts that are an homage to the moon and are named for the months of the year. I think the January one that we have is pure evil, which is another reason I didn't like it, but the August one is so playful and friendly, I was kind of amazed to see how very simple things like the tilt of the head made it so much more appealing. When I made the point to see them up close, I found I really loved seeing the texture of the fingers in the clay. Despite the fact that the signs say "DON'T TOUCH", I did it anyway. I put my fingers in the same paths on the surface that the artist's fingers had made when sculpting it. Silly as it may seem, it made me feel like I could make famous art, too.