01 December 2007

The Owl Tree

















A large collaborative project involving around dozen street artists on a doomed building here in Seattle, The Owl Tree started as a wheatpasted tree installed on a lonely wall on Capitol Hill. Since that time, some three-plus months ago, various artists have perched their particular bird (or other figures) in the branches, making for quite a motley flock. The building upon which the birds have roosted is not long for this world -- destinted to be demolished for a new high-rise apartments-with-retail building to go up in 2008 -- so get a look while you can. Or if you don't know where the site is, check The Owl Tree Flickr pool for images and updates.

05 October 2007

Stop Sign Cozy



Warmth at last for these new cold fall nights. Poor thing, standing out in the elements so long. Certainly a little material comfort is welcome while on duty.

This wonderful Knitta cozy appeared a couple weeks ago at 20th & Jefferson, and it's a swell piece. Tonally appropriate, the green works well with the red/white stripey post and now-classic logo design; not to mention the grass below. Note especially, the piece is held on with little ties (traditionally zip-ties) that are actually knitted in and knotted! Just lovely. Here's hopes that it lasts the entire season.

06 June 2007

God of the Jawas

















The importance of leaving rusting idols in the Tatooine desert appears threefold: One, to alert other wandering tribes of Jawas that this indeed is a good travel route, as pioneered by a particular tribe (indicated by the style of the idol, and inscriptions); Two, to designate an area of resources; and Three, to indicate a territorial boundary. Boundaries are shared and very flexible by default; a tribe wandering into another tribe's idol-dotted area is under no threat: Jawas always share all resources with their own kind, sometimes to a fault. The 'boundary' is more a designation of the hostmanship is as you travel through this particular land. Further, each "idol station" is a sort of folk worship altar, where each passing Jawa tribe will stop, place offerings, and potentially rest a few days. As has been noted earlier by Brunson (1997), Carpith (2024) and Xenuduin (2319), these idol stations are found in locations with useful desert resources: water, shade, low wind, physical protection, high magnetic potential, and quality food opportunities. These idols eventually do rust and abrade away in the contant winds, often leaving a stain in the ground or wall nearby. Skilled Jawas can interpret theses stains and deterime the tribe which erected the previous idol. If left untended for a long enough period of time, another Jawa tribe may claim the area and assume host responsibilities. Usually this happens after the initial tribe has been contacted to confirm their disinterest in the location, but occasionally the initial tribe cannot be located and does not come back to maintain the spot.

27 May 2007

The White Knitta






















Spotted on Pike Street, Capitol Hill, this graceful Knitta work adorns a bus schedule sign in front of the Cha Cha bar. More sophisticated than the previous pieces posted here, the rolled collar and slouchy fit are a nice counterpoint to the hard gray steel and right angles. The red accent stitching balances the white/gray tones and livens the piece up considerably. The placement at a bus stop improves chances that it will be seen by many. Let's hope it'll survive the demolition of the entire block as developers make way for a retail/condo edifice.

Other Knitta work in Seattle news:
The Stranger
Design*Sponge
Seattle Times
please insert caffeine

Previous Knitta posts on Seattle Street Art:
Knitta Mountain
Knittagain!


02 May 2007

Flower Children


A very ludic arrangement and a glorious solution to a broken figurine. I cannot say more, so I will only quote Björk's song,

Venus As A Boy
his wicked sense of humour / suggests exciting sex / his fingers focus on her / touches, he's venus as a boy

he believes in beauty / he's venus as a boy

he's exploring / the taste of her
arousal / so accurate
he sets off / the beauty in het / he's venus as a boy

he believes in beauty / he's venus as a boy

15 April 2007

The Head on the (Garage) Door

An excellent use of spraypaint stencil to improve an otherwise boring garage-front on 21st near Union. Small enough to be unobtrusive, yet bright enough catch your eye. Nice color tones too against the garage grey, and well-framed.

10 April 2007

House of Small Statues, Part Last



You can spend an entire afternoon discovering all the tiny figures and colorful additions in this yard. One can only imagine what the inside of the house looks like if the outside is this wonderful. Would that we all had the time and inclination to create this much artwork everywhere. Sculpture Park be damned, THIS is public art!
Mixed media of stone, wood, brick, tile, concrete, sparkplugs, tools and more; Devil's bursting through windows, cats arched in horror, little workmen tromping through the snow, colored cogs rising like bubbles of thought along the walls... even the garage roof support
(not pictured) is a detailed hand with Wonderful use of color and texture throughout, and hilarious faces wherever you look. Fantastic worthy art by any account.

06 April 2007

Lincoln's Big Head

There's something about being head of state that gets you recognized in crowds. Being head of the household, not so much, but you do get respect. Being just another big head on the street, however, probably causes car accidents. Regardless, this is one of the better bits of yard art around the city. It looks like Abraham Lincoln, although it could be someone's granddad, an early Seattle settler perhaps. He must have been a fellow of some stature to merit such an incarnation.

02 April 2007

House of Small Statues, Part Four

Devil on the rooftop, kicking up snow. Hammer in hand, and wings all aglow. Sparks from his head, leaping to flight. Stealing through souls in the perilous night.

House of Small Statues, Part Three






















The Tileman, waving to his compadres and greeting all guests. And.. is that cake in his hand? He fits right in to his surroundings, as if the space had been waiting for his presence. How wonderful to have all these little people populating your tiny square of the city forest.

01 April 2007

Giant Bugs






















Fresh this weekend, this gloriously detailed winged-insect (tsetse fly? fanged-wasp? martian devilbug?) on the window of the defunct "Premier Auto" storefront on the corner of Pine and 11th was found when the wheatpaste was still damp Friday evening. Clearly the new modus operandi of some street artists around here: pre-designed paper prints that are pasted up quickly. Very effective for high-traffic areas, and especially this one since it's a mere block from the local police station. More! Encore!
(see the flickrstream for exact map locations of most of the art here.)

30 March 2007

House of Small Statues, Part Two






















A man of mortar and brick, and another denizen of the House of Small Statues. Looks like he'll survive the next earthquake, never notice it, just continue to guard his corner of the yard. His tile cap bill is a nice touch. Is he actually the gardener?

The House of Small Statues






















There's a house with a yard full of figurines hiding on a crooked street in Madrona, very near a pocket park inhabited by a multitude of plum trees. Little stone men, cats, crocodiles, baseball players and devils. Wood, stone, brick and what appear to be colored machine cogs of some sort. It's a lovely hidden spot populated by protector spirits, all hand-made. This one is a favorite-- the river-stone doorway guardian, carefully constructed, a dependable sentinal. The house and garage are also decorated, and I'll be posting more images here soon.

29 March 2007

Knittagain!






















The rumors are true, there's a Knitta piece in Ballard right in front of the guitar shop on B'lard Ave. Looks like its (ahem) cut from the same cloth as the Capitol Hill piece... or at least knit from the same yarn. Have not seen nor heard of any new pieces recently, so perhaps the local knitta cell has gone back into sleeper mode, napping and knitting, waiting to strike again...

25 March 2007

Water Bells

Reversed-cloche water spout design. A definite improvement on the alternative 'chain' type downspout, these look like they would actually be musical in a downpour. Houses are not normally a part of 'street art'... but I think these are an exception since they are so unique. The house is on 16th, just north of Madison a few blocks. Looks like a nice place.



21 March 2007

Alley Monster














Here's a speed trap you really don't want to get caught in. On the south side of the T.T. Minor playfield, you'll get a jolt if this critter jumps on your hood for going too fast.
This red monster is done in a fantastic teddy-bear style... I wish I could tell you who the artist is. It looks commissioned to me. It's in a great location though. Any sort of grey concrete is ideal for art like this, but especially near an elementary school. Encore!

14 March 2007

Under Bridge Heads














Found under Seneca Street as viewed from Post Alley. It's a mostly concrete location, out of the rain. Cars, food, officespaces. Two heads. Although one huge head covering all the grey might have been better, they feel unresolved with the lower half of their canvas only city grey, punctuated by four industrial dots. Bodyless, virtual ; knowledge workers, telecommuters... with hundreds of real commuters flowing off the Viaduct just a few feet overhead.

05 March 2007

Bike Nerds Unite

Over at Bikenerd, our compatriot has posted some photos of stickers he found attached to signs recently. Sez he: "Whoever put these giant stickers along the bicycle path to West Seattle deserves a grant."


















Nice stuff indeed. See the rest here.

28 February 2007

Hammering Man in Human Bondage


















All tied up and no place to go. The Hammering Man (
Jonathan Borofsky, 1992, #3277164.) was stopped and restrained this last fall as part of the Seattle Art Museum's huge construction process. If you haven't been downtown, the SAM is sporting a fancy, skyscraping new appendage off its Northside: The new WaMu Tower. Fortunately for SAM, this will increase the museum's floorspace. Meanwhile, the iconic, ever-hammering Man was stopped while fences surrounded his feet (and the rest of the building) and the construction pushed on.
He really deserves the rest: "
The Hammering Man's arm "hammers" four times per minute from 7 am to 10 pm every day. He rests its arm each evening and every year on Labor Day." One day off a year? 15-hour days? He's a throwback to the American capitalism of the late 1800's, or the Asian capitalism of today. A time we'd be best off only remembering. (Of course with increasing overtime and lousy vacation compensation, Americans may be slowly moving back there anyway.)
At last visit a week ago, he'd actually been disassembled in part -- dis-armed, actually -- with no date posted as to when he'll be back on the line, banging away. Probably soon though, since the skyscraper thing (described as 'flute-like' by The Stranger's art critic Jen Graves) is finished and partially occupied already.

25 February 2007

Cookery Fence














It's a memory wall of sorts, which grows yearly with cake tins, copper ornaments and cooking implements extracted from thrift stores. Chaotic yet peaceful, it makes a Sunday walk that much more delightful.




13 February 2007

Knitta Mountain


















Summit and Pine, this sign received its first bomb-tastic sweater recently. Clearly the work of the
notorious clandestine Knitta knetwork, that loose affiliation of underground art terrorists; the local Seattle cell has obviously be onna move recently as rumors of another strike in Ballard are floating about (link to post). Meanwhile, there are perhaps more out there...but to find them we'll need your help. Anyone seeing the work of these dangerous knittorists should report all sightings immediately.

08 February 2007

Lawn Rocket














The concrete nosecone of our nuclear ambitions perhaps? Fixed, ready and pointed just above a neighbor's roofline... A weird monument in front of an otherwise normal house, on an otherwise normal street, in a mostly normal neighborhood. It seems out of place, but it's been there a long time. Shortly after I took this photo and wandered away a fellow pulled his truck alongside me and my friend mentioning that he'd seen us taking pictures. "We used to play on that thing back in the early 60's," he said. Back when Boeing was a happy place to work, and our nuclear future looked ever so bright...

25 January 2007

Alley Gallery














This alley, just off Union somewhere near 15th, is one my current fave
art gallery in the city. A mish-mosh of portraits, still lives, and metal dragons in a variety of styles, it's a cacophony of color, and excellent for it. Out there, in the weather, near the trashcans, brightening your day with ludic zen silliness.














I love the way the trees are a part of the whole collage effect. Blended, integrated. Although you can say that it looks thrown together or "disjointed" or something, but the art at once stands out individually and becomes a whole together. It's bits of art, and it's just wallpaper. Much of it is not very "good" in a "true art" sense, but it remains weirdly inviting, welcoming even, and asks you to look closer.. no, closer... So much to see.


















Even the telephone pole gets a treatment -- chinese angel-dragons ascending to heaven perhaps. The yellow painting of the flower vase remains the visual entry point.. it catches your attention immediately, while it also blends with the fall colors beneath it, and then you see the heart.. From there your gaze moves around to other pieces and shapes, weaving haphazardly. Who needs the Seattle Art Museum when you have alleys like this?! It's fantastic.

23 January 2007

ARM...














You might not be able to see the markings in this sculpture...
ARM in capital letters. I can only assume the author was trying to write ARM THE UNEMPLOYED, or similar. Grafittus Interruptus, apparently. Sadly, or depending on your point of view, Comically, this was scratched into "Stinger" by Tony Smith (d.1980), which is featured in a copse nearby his similar "Wandering Rocks" piece at the brand-spanking new Olympic Sculpture Park. I went opening weekend (Jan.20, 2007) and found that a few items had already been altered by locals. Richard Serra's "Wake", the most powerful piece in the park (IMHO) had been graffitied too, multiple times, with fingers, or something:














Frankly, the park is underwhelming. A few pieces are good, some are ok, many are not appealing at all. At least the place is a park and no longer an industrial zone. Net gain. And it does improve -a little- the access to the nearby Myrtle Edwards Park, site of many a bay-front festival. So that's good. A few comments in local news-blogs pointed out that it's only time before these public sculptures get tagged by street urchins. Draw your own opinions.
I learned from conversations I've had since then that muc
h of the input from parts of the local art community included the idea of making a place for local-made art... a grafitti wall, or a few revolving local-only spots, or something. Sadly, none of that is in evidence. Perhaps the locals will find their own places to put art in the park. There is certainly lots of ultra-drab concrete slab walls there... and a lot of creative people around here.




20 January 2007

Mr. Fireplug


















Marching forcefully down 17th and Columbia, this li'l workin' man is happy to do the job. A little too happy, if you ask me. And with intense and creepy eyes too. Eyes that seem to burn into you with malevolent glee. What on earth is he thinking about? Whatever it is, it can't be good. Too many hours on the job, I suspect. Or perhaps the amphetamines are finally making his brain crazy. He's pretty serious about whatever he does, though. Truly a committed man. "Chained to his job", you might say.

Everywhere a Sign














The requirements of signage makes for a curious aesthetic at times. Found on lower Western Ave. just before it intersects Yesler, this garage door's two notices creates a beautiful clusterfuck of language: "Do No Parking Any Time" it insists. Why on earth didn't the "No Parking" sign go below the spray painted message? Odd. The charcoal-gray color of the door is a perfect backdrop to this inadvertant assemblage.

19 January 2007

Savoy Shuffle














What situation caused these fancy hotel slippers (from the Savoy in London's West End) to end up here? Grubby, worn and in disarray at the bus stop at 19th and Jefferson? They speak of sadness, confusion, pain. The bus lines that pass here, No.'s 3 and 4, go directly to Harborview Hospital, about 12 blocks to the west. Why did this person need to go to the hospital in such a hurry that they couldn't put on shoes? Did they arrive with barefeet, in a nightgown? Why did this person not have at least a concerned friend to give them a lift? Was it a medical emergency? Or a loved one already embedded in the house of the poorly? I weighed the gravity of these possibilities for a minute, then my bus arrived.

17 January 2007

Le Chien d'Acier














This cocker was sitting atop the action end of a metal cyclone fence somewhere on 15th Ave in the Central District. Lovingly detailed, yet worn from at least a decade or two of use, he looks back somewhat mournfully at the house he guards. Perhaps wishing he could be inside the warmth, and not out here on the cold, cold sidewalk.

It's small flourishes like this that make places interesting, although why the owners chose to immortalize a cocker spaniel in cyclone steel is unclear. A dear departed most likely. Nothing else about the house was particularly noteworthy, but it needn't have been: this little protector says it all.

15 January 2007

Dirty Snowman














Walking on Capitol Hill near the First Church of Christ, Scientist, we found this snowman chilling on the corner. With cocktail garnish eyes and an old tofu container for a hat, it looked like he hadn't washed in days. It seemed like he needed a smoke pretty badly, so we gave him one. He was grateful, humble even, and accepted the stubby smoke without complaint or comment. He knows the score: after this next freeze his days are numbered. The temperature wasn't much above 32 fahrenheit, perhaps just a couple of degrees, but the sky was open and the sun bright. His texture was already pitted from the previous day's melt and refreeze overnight. I shifted from one foot to the other as he stood mute, my friend muttered a conciliatory comment, but we knew it wouldn't help. The awareness of death a heavy weight between us. We nodded to him solemnly and walked on. Just as I started to turn away, I saw a tear fall from his orangy eye...