As anyone who has traveled with me knows, I am fascinated by creatures on buildings — or, in this case, humans on buildings! Dotted all around this green terra cotta façade are male figures that could be either friend or foe. Are they benevolently guarding the building, like sentries, or are they menacing, like gargoyles? His expression is calm, but to me the devilish beard and the chopping-block pose look like a warning to other would-be criminals.
I went in search of answers about the original design intent, but my Google-fu has let me down. I was only able to find the basics: Is it’s now called Pacific Place, but was built in 1907 as the Pacific Union Building, the largest reinforced concrete office tower in the world. It was extensively rebuilt in the late 90s by Tipping Mar.
If you’re ever at Powell and Market in San Francisco and can see past the distracting Old Navy marquee, check them out.
Also at the Denver Art Museum, I ran across this installation of meditating Buddhas topped with various doll heads. Heads include Ken, Howdy Doody, Wolverine, and Doc, of Seven Dwarves fame. For some reason, I thought the creepy rubbery foam bodies were even more strange than the suspended doll heads. (Headless, Michael Joo)
There is something magical about the Sonoran Desert. Despite the scrubby bushes and monotonous sand, there is a quality to the people, the land, and the architecture that I have always loved. (This nostalgia for my childhood is not to be confused with actually wanting to live there!)
I wish I could take credit for it, but it was my brother who saw the eye created from the shadow of a nearby street lamp. The position is so perfect it looks intentional. I wonder if the artist has seen it like this.
At the Denver Art Museum I found this amazing (and gigantic) piece, Pater Noster by Sean Landers. It is more of a journal than a painting, chronicling the artist’s life while he prepares for a show — a time that also includes his partner’s pregnancy, the birth of his child, and the sudden death of his father. It is rare for people stop and stay with any one piece for longer than a few seconds, but this one had such a large crowd we were jockeying for position to continue reading his funny, poignant story. After thinking about it, this piece’s popularity should not be a surprise. A common art museum comment is “What in the world is that supposed to be?” Here, we know exactly what the artist is trying to say because he is saying it, literally.
One night recently an old friend was in town, and we met in the Mission for dinner. It was one of those rare nights in the city where the weather is perfect and there isn’t a hint of the usual chilly wind. We just started walking with no destination in mind, chatting and giggling over tacky wares in the windows. At one point we ducked down some street or another — I probably couldn’t find it again — and we happened on this fun mural around the corner from an antiques store I’d love to have gone in if it had been open. I’m attracted to the cartoon quality of the mural, but what really sold it is how it incorporated the ugly, omnipresent city power lines into the scene.