For as much as I talk about art and how much I believe in it and how evil the city art task force is, I do have to say that some art just isn't for everybody.
For example, I think the sculpture in the middle of the pedestrian walkway on campus is ugly:
I'm not alone. The students protested loudly when it was installed, and the school eventually had to install security cameras due to damage done by vandals. They don't have cameras for the fish with legs:
or the Torchbearer:
or the naked girl riding a bull that I don't seem to have a photograph of, but they have them to watch that fugly pile of aluminum and plastic. And yes, I realize that there is technique and symbolism and all sorts of hard work and careful thought that went into that sculpture, but no amount of education or art appreciation will make me think that thing doesn't look like the sad playground at a run-down McDonald's.
Anyway, the whole reason I was thinking about ugly art, or, more charitably, art gone wrong, was the sculpture that I saw this weekend at Victor Ashe Park. Elizabeth and I met Kay there very early on Saturday morning to volunteer for the Great Strides Walk to end cystic fibrosis. We had a lot of fun handing out t-shirts all morning, and everyone else seemed to enjoy it, too.
They had face painting, a clown making balloon animals:
food and drinks:
a silent auction:
and the whole thing was presided over by a creepy severed bronze head on a pike.
Yeah, you heard me.
This has to be the most horribly misguided memorial sculpture I've ever seen:
unless Victor Ashe had some sort of skin condition, or decapitation problem, or tragic skull crushing accident:
in which case I will apologize profusely.
As it is, though, I think that thing is creepy and weird and kind of unattractive.