No, this critter that we saw at Discovery Works today might be a junkyard dog, except that his legs are too long. And I looked in vain for his ears. Maybe you can figure out he might be.
Don't know when this new sculpture first made its appearance at the entrance to Yavapai College, but it certainly wasn't there when I visited the school's sculpture garden last fall. I breakfast once a week at JBs with friends, which is why I discovered this very American Indian looking fellow; he's quite visible from Sheldon Street.
A closer look at the sculpture.
I had assumed that this was strictly metal work, but a zoom-in reveals that the center post is wooden. Can't furnish any details as to the sculptor's name or studio or location -- I tried The Google, but no dice. My fault. If I were to produce my posts during the day, instead of late evening, I could simply ring up the PR department at the college and ask.
One look at the granddaughter posing with this frog told me I had to spend more time than a cold, pre-Christmas Nutcracker intermission allowed to enjoy the sculpture garden at Yavapai College. I had that chance Saturday, which was a sunny and warm fall day. The amphibian Leaps and Bounds is the creation of John Skurja of Skurja Art Castings. FYI, the garden is on the southwest side of the performance hall.
Community Gothic is a dour contrast to the cheerful frog. It seems to me that this uptight family would be much more comfortable in winter than in warmer times (below). The pamphlet guide to the garden suggests viewing Richard Marcusen's sculpture at night when the work casts dramatic, enlarged shadows on the wall.
Just before I photographed Helix by Tom McClure, a mother had to shoo her little boy off the big, bright aluminum piece. I can see that it would be a temptation to any lively youngster!
This abstraction is Seated Woman by Michael Anderson. Curious -- from the angle below, I get it. The cold winter picture above, taken from the other side, shows merely one more modern sculpture.
A piece of me said, "come on now, you can't be serious" when I first saw this array of flagstones. But I followed the instructions from creators Rebecca Davis and Roger Asay and walked through and around the runes, took pictures -- and kept taking pictures! It was hard to make a selection for this post.
Color is beginning to develop on the side faces of The Gathering, a fountain formed from copper by Gary Slater. It is the centerpiece of a pleasant circular arrangement.
As you can imagine, the wind is a necessary partner to the three whirligig towers in stainless steel and copper, created by Lyman Whitaker. I especially liked the view that suggests that they might be one with the trees. More views below.
Though not part of the sculpture garden, there were two art works on the back side of the performance hall as I continued the walk. The plaques above are dedicated to Viola Jimulla, a past chieftess of the local Yavapai Indian Tribe.
And I know nothing about this creation which features wood and a lot of gears. But it is certainly eye-catching.
And, finally, I couldn't resist creating a sculpture of my own with the camera. In reality, the object above is a microwave dish atop the building. There's more to the garden than I've had time and space to present here; it's a lovely example of desert landscaping, which will have to wait for another post.
Ever since our visit to the dinosaur lady out Iron Springs Road last fall, I've hankered to visit the source of her huge metal sculptures.
The chance came last week on the return trip after we saw the dotter and GD off to Alaska. There it was, on the west side of I-17 at the main turn-off to Anthem. The Metal Corral, the place is called. A veritable zoo of B*I*G rust-colored animals for your yard and mine.
A veritable Serengeti, it was. And as hot as the South African desert, too. The niece and I hurried to take our pictures so that we could get back into the air conditioned car!
The one disappointment -- far more modern animals than saurians, dragons or unicorns.
Here the critters were lined up to use the facility.
Even though I'd prefer a unicorn or stegasaurus, I'd sure settle for a lion, a bighorn sheep...
...or this eagle (or is it a roc? I can't be sure.)
Nice horses. The granddaughter would be freaked out to own one of them. Wow!
The cobra overlooks a collection of beasties and iron mariachi musicians lying down, awaiting shipment to a buyer in California. A blacksmith works in the shed at left; yes, in mid-summer. In Phoenix. However, only ornamental iron work is made here in Arizona. The animals come from a facility down in Baja near the border. I'd love to see that animal works!
These guys were all in the south window at Van Gogh's Ear over on Whiskey Row. I want one, if I can't have the giant robot who guards The Electric Hog.
This ferocious fellow is my favorite. He sports an excellent pair of wings, but they didn't show up well against the background paintings. Especially, I like the beady R.E.D. eyes.
Here is a drinking machine with wine built-ins. Perhaps the wine recirculates, like blood.
A musical insect...
...and, what, a troll, maybe? If you'd like to see more fantasy and SF critters by Adam Homan, take a visit to his web site. His photographer didn't have to contend with window glass or crowded displays!
I had to do an injustice to the Corn Mother to show this aspect of the sculpture. She faces to the northeast, her front is almost always in shadow, making a difficult photographic subject. In reality, she is dark and mysterious.
The shadows here emphasize the lady's fecundity.
In case you have not seen the Corn Mother, she is to be found near the center of the grounds at the Sharlot Hall Museum.
When that great, shiny sculpture of a bull was first installed on the hospital side of Whipple near formerly Five Points, the editor of the Courier expressed nothing but disdain. That was back in the early 90s. Myself, I've been fond of the bull from the beginning. I think that editor was pining for one more heroic Salon Borglum western piece. Not to be.
Here's another of Prescott's critter sculpts, one with a much fancier pedigree than the bull. Named Bill, he dates from 1905 when the big Jerome mining company donated copper to the Prescott BPOE #330 to have the W. H. Mullins Art Metal Works Company of Salem, Ohio create a sculpture to top their new building. In 1971, the group moved out of the city and over to Prescott Valley, taking their prize elk with them. After much negotiation, the statue has been returned to his original post. A lot of restoration work was involved, as well. Day's Past reports that "Over the years, 'Bill' had been shot numerous times, had been painted silver, had received a large dent in his side, had nearly lost his antlers, which were still barely perched upon his head, had sprung numerous leaks and was generally in poor condition."
As for the owl, it sits atop another of the old downtown buildings. Probably made out of plastic. No doubt he claims some magical powers, such as scaring pigeons away. I've always been intrigued by those funny little faddish architectural add-ons. Down in Sun City one day, I noticed that every third house had an owl perched on the roof or TV antenna. Possible an owl salesman had passed that way. Maybe the son of the guy who used to canvass Chicago's ethnic neighborhoods, selling up-to-date doors with three little windows cascading down the top half.
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