Strange Tucson Art, Public and Private

You know what living in Tucson is like? It's like finding an old shoebox in the attic of an abandoned house. You open the box wondering what could be inside, and then: “Whoa...What are these, glass figurines of camels karate fighting? Dinosaurs made from the innards of old alarm clocks and cell phones? An exact replica of Christopher Lloyd's head? What the hell is this stuff?”

Tucson has weird or intriguing things hidden all over the place that you'd miss if you didn't take the time to look for them, meaning you're not looking for anything specific as far as you're concerned until the moment you see it, and then you think, “Ah, there it is.” It's an old shoebox of a town, seemingly plain and uninteresting at first glance—no glitzy skyline or anything like that—and then you open it up and see what's inside--a bunch of crazy stuff, objects that take you by surprise and make you consider whether you've ever encountered anything like them.

In 2009, my wife and I attended the All Souls Procession, an event that takes place every November in Tucson (and that I'll talk about in greater detail in a later post). At the end of the festivities, we wandered over to the Solar Culture Gallery on Toole Avenue. I think it was the first time we'd ever been inside. The space displays artwork on a rotating schedule from a number of Tucson artists, and regularly adds new work. As we moved through the building, we stepped into a side room just off the main space, and saw these:

 

The sculptures shown are the work of Steven Eye. What I like about them is that they have a stylistic connection to the work of H.R. Giger, with organic human shapes blended into seemingly mechanical, artificial structures. His work is less surreal or disturbing than Giger's, though, making it more accessible and in some ways more beautiful. The emphasis is on symmetry and perfection; aesthetically pleasing human faces serve as the focal point of head dresses, helmets, and body suits that simultaneously evoke ancient Egypt, Mayan and Aztec culture, and alien worlds. It's easy to picture these designs appearing in a science fiction film with a mystical slant, a new adaptation of the Dune novels or something in the same spirit.

Those photos don't even represent the majority of his work in the gallery. Much of the space itself is adorned with decorative sculptures and designs integrated as long-term installations. They're the natural result of a powerful imagination grounded in solid talent, and when I came across them it made me glad to know that objects so off-beat, admirable, and strange inhabit the same town I do.

Less bizarre but every bit as striking is Toby the Griffin on Scott Avenue. In the words of the website Creative Machines, “Griffins originally perched on the corners of the Carnegie Library overlooking Scott Avenue in Tucson. They were removed in the renovation of 1938 but one escaped. You can see his footprints where he jumped to the sidewalk and walked away.”

There are in fact footprints stamped into the sidewalk near the sculpture, adding to the coolness of the piece. It's the work of Joe O'Connell, and is just the kind of public art I like, fanciful and fun and done with a sense of whimsy. I'm glad the city agreed to it. It even has lights in its chest that come on at night. Every city should have one of these or something just as fantasy-related and inspired. Every city should have fifty.

Another thing every city should consider having is giant animals built into the infrastructure, animals that serve as walkways, tunnels, fountains, roads, whatever can be reasonably fit into the daily life without getting in the way. Tucson's done it with the Snake Bridge, a structure designed by Simon Donovan that spans Broadway Boulevard just east of downtown. It functions as part of a walking/bike path, and at the tail end there's a motion-sensitive speaker that plays a rattle for anyone exiting or entering on that side of the bridge. Just like the griffin, it's a whimsical and unusual thing to come across in a city, and I dig it. 

Oddly, some people have complained about it over the years, saying it makes the city look like a miniature golf course. I don't understand what they're talking about. Honestly, you'd rather live in a city with the same dull buildings and bridges you find everywhere else? I prefer a town that tries to set itself apart and adds something to the aesthetic experience of living there. It's fun, dammit, it's amusing, you can get boring architecture anywhere, so why have it here? This town probably needs a Snake Bridge, and a griffin, and trippy outer space Egyptians. That's why they're here and not in a different, less deserving city.

The fact that some people don't approve of a Snake Bridge might be a moot point now anyway, because the thing needs painting and repair that the city can't afford. The sad part is that such news can only mean Tucson will get less of this kind of thing, not more. I'd like to see them turn the whole place into a giant southwestern Dr. Seuss toy box, with insane statues and buildings and parks at every turn. It would mesh perfectly with the oddball character that makes Tucson so compelling, and likely spur an uptick in tourism. Cities like New Orleans and San Francisco became famous for their weirdness, so why not Tucson? Might as well capitalize on it.