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.

• House of Small Statues, Part Last
  
• House of Small Statues, Part Four
  
• House of Small Statues, Part Three
  
• House of Small Statues, Part Two
  
• *
  

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...

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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...

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.

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 much 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.

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.