Last month, I either entertained or bored (depending on who you are) my dedicated readership of seven, when I took you on a virtual tour of the outdoor Saint Clair Cemin sculpture exhibit currently on display near seven subway stops on upper Broadway here in Manhattan. For those of you that would like to take that tour click here.
Since I am a tactile type I have been known to run my hand over a surface, but I recall keeping my grubby mitts to myself when I photographed each work of art. The sculpture called In the Center struck me as rather intimidating. It’s an imposing fourteen and a half foot tall plaster of Paris, wood and metal figure in a gaucho hat holding a divining rod. It’s so big it’s easy to feel like a dwarf when in its presence.
A week ago, as I was approaching it, I was distracted from my regular go-to thoughts about sex and death while narrowly sidestepping a slow moving pigeon, when I did a double take.
Me (thinking): Why is it in that huge plastic baggie?
Then, I looked closer and saw the answer.
I suppose the downside to a public art exhibit is some members of the audience, in particular those with the intellectual acuity of a small soap dish coupled with a lack of impulse control. I don’t know who was compelled to climb it; possibly it was some dunderhead inspired to do chin-ups using the arms. Or, it might have been a child that garnered parental approval when he or she needed to scratch the jungle gym itch. Whoever it was I imagine that they had an audience and laughter filled the air until someone asked:
Someone: Hey, is it me or do you hear something cracking?
Whoever was the culprit, it was not raining geniuses that day. As for the progress of the restoration, In the Center remains under wraps. In this state of disrepair, a more accurate name for it might be In the Bodybag.