There are many things that I love about our neighborhood. The art, though, is nothing to write home about.
This series of three sculptures is particularly offensive. They are lined up along the road, the kitchiest set I could ever imagine. It took me months to get used to that policeman and to realize that he is not real and that he is not pulling me over.
This photographer: how dated; that sweatshirt!
And this lady on a bench is the worst.
I don't know if you can see it in the close-up, but her face has accumulated a lot of dirt over the years, making her prematurely old.
(Apologies for the photos--as many times as I've thought of photographing these sculptures, I've never remembered to do it with my actual camera, so I had to do it with my phone camera.)
2 comments:
This particular impulse seems to be one that many suburbs and small towns experienced. I can't even recall how many places I've seen versions of the sculpture-of-regular-person that always looks like a publicly-displayed mummified corpse because its clothes and hair and appearance are so outdated but the effort at realism remains. Have you ever seen those graffiti stencils that say "NOT ART" posted on road signs and lamp posts and things? I wish those people would set up placards near all these offenders.
Ha. Yes.
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