Sugarman in Austin

Robert Boyd

I was driving east in Austin on Riverside Dr. with no particular destination except to eventually drive home to Houston when I saw this:


George Sugarman, untitled (in Austin), 1971, steel

I instantly recognized it as a piece by George Sugarman. It's in front of thoroughly anonymous industrial park at 8021 East Riverside Dr., right near the the airport. It's not a location where you expect to find art, much less art by a major American sculptor. The reason I recognized it so easily was that I had seen some of its brothers and sisters in Houston.

 
George Sugarman, untitled (in Houston), 1971, steel

This is in front of an office building on Sawyer St., just north of Memorial Drive in Houston.  Both the Austin sculpture and the group of pieces around the building on Sawyer were once part of a much larger sculpture by Sugarman called the Saint Paul Sculptural Complex. You can read the story behind this sculpture and its weird "conservation by dismemberment" by Grubb & Ellis Realty in my earlier post about them. I knew there were more of these Sugarman fragments around, so I was quite delighted to stumble across one accidentally.


George Sugarman, untitled (in Austin, another view), 1971, steel

This one has a plaque that tells a little bit of the story. What's funny is how self-congratulatory it is.



Still, I'm happy that they saved this work, even in this oddly dismembered form, and I was quite delighted to stumble across this fragment in Austin.

Sculptures at The Campanile

by Robert Boyd

You've probably seen some of these sculptures if you have ever driven down Montrose past Richmond in Houston. I was in the Freed-Montrose Library the other day and decided to take some photos.



One thing I like about this sculpture is that it isn't in a special place. They just plunked it down right beside the front door. This is an office building that comprises part of The Campanile, a group of office/retail properties owned by Hansen Partners. This group of properties includes the Black Lab, but I'm not sure if it includes the library itself.



I wonder if office workers ever use this sculpture as an ashtray... Anyway, this building houses Savage Brands, a corporate design and communications shop.

 

That building backs up to 4200 Montrose, where Hansen Partners has put a lot of its collection of abstract metal sculptures on view.



sculpture at 4200 Montrose

There is this spindly, multi-colored item that graces the parking lot.



George Smith, sculpture in front of 4200

And there's this piece by George Smith. I happen to know that this is a George Smith partly because it looks like one, but mostly because it used to be located in front of Lanier Middle School over on Westheimer, and one day I saw George Smith putting a new coat of paint on it. And I knew it was George Smith painting it because he had been one of my professors at Rice. This might remind you a bit of the Tony Smith sculptures behind the Dan Flavin installation at Richmond Hall. George Smith studied with Tony Smith way back when.

There is a glass lobby to this building (I believe in the past there has been a bank there). Inside the lobby, there are several more pieces of abstract artwork. Hansen Partners seems to have a serious investment in this kind of decoration.



sculpture at 4119 Montrose

Across the street is 4119 Montrose, a relatively new building designed by Phillip Ewald Architecture. This blue, sail-like sculpture sits to the right of the modest entrance. I'd say the entrance is so modest, I kind of needs a marker like this sculpture to draw attention to it.

So Hansen Partners has decorated their suite of properties with sculptures. What does this say about them? None of the sculptures are huge, although they are generally larger than human sized. So they aren't trying to overwhelm you with corporate might. I think they are generally signalling tastefulness. The sheer quantity of them signals wealth--it says, this isn't just a sculpture, this is a collection. It also signals "artsiness" which has a particular value. It helps make the buildings attractive to firms like Savage Brands. It also signals to the neighborhood that "we belong"--this is, after all, the neighborhood of the Menil, of several commercial art galleries, etc. So to me, this is pretty successful corporate plop art.

Corporate Plop in Greenspoint

Robert Boyd

Pan has a day job, and that job is up in Greenspoint (a corporate office area/ghetto in far north Houston). Recently I became aware of three relatively new sculptures near my office.



blowing leaves at the intersection of Greens Parkway and Gears Rd

I don't know who sculptured this multicolor metal sculpture of blowing sycamore leaves. It is located at the end of a wide median strip on Greens Parkway. There are sycamore trees planted in the median--they look quite young, but give them a decade or two and they'll be lovely. Weirdly, this median is bounded by two massive empty lots. Lots big enough to build skyscrapers on. The area is full of low-rise campus-like buildings, mid-rise offices, and a few high-rises. So it could be that the leaves were put there by a real estate company or a business district to promote the empty properties.



blowing leaves at the intersection of Greens Parkway and Gears Rd

As a sculpture, it doesn't quite work. It is meant to suggest autumn leaves blowing, but because they all are physically connected to one another, you don't really get the sense of motion. Admittedly, the sculptor set up a really difficult task for himself. Aside from the failure to suggest motion, I'd say it's a petty nice piece of corporate plop. It isn't overbearing or self-aggrandizing. It's pleasing and welcoming--which I assume is the point.



Eric Ober, Time Piece, metal

Just down the road at the intersection of Green Parkway and Greens Crossing Blvd. are two pieces by Eric Ober. It's unusual that I know the name of the artist of a piece of corporate plop (I have no idea who did the leaves, for example). The works are rarely signed or labeled. In this case, I lucked out--I had seen Ober's work before at the Bayou City Art Festival in 2010.



Eric Ober, Body Language, metal

Time Piece and Body Language are more typical of corporate plop than the leaves sculpture. They are abstract and decorative. In this case, the sculpture is human scale. In fact, the two sculptures are surrounded by inward facing benches, which suggests that they are places where the workers at Honeywell and the other occupants of the adjacent building can take smoke breaks or lunch breaks. (Contrast this human scale with George Schroeder's mammoth Synergy in Westchase.)

None of these pieces will be remembered in the art history textbooks, but I like them well enough, and like that they are there. The motivations for plopping down some art in front of a business are complex, but I like that someone thought that art as a part of the business or business district would be worth having. On average, I'd rather have some art around than be in an art-free environment.

Earth Art at the Apartment Complex

Robert Boyd

We think of Earth Art as being located in remote locations in places like Utah, Arizona, or New Mexico. But Michael Heizer has specialized in bringing earthworks into the city. You can see one in the north lawn of the Menil, for example, or most spectacularly in the engineering quad at Rice University--45 degrees, 90 degrees, 180 degrees (1984). You'd be forgiven if you wondered if Michael Heizer had been hired to decorate the Sun Blossom at Woodlake apartments on South Gessner Dr.



I've driven by this conglomeration of granite semi-cubes many times and wondered about it. The look like enormous slightly dissolved sugar-cubes, poured randomly from the sky. The occupy a space where one might normally expect to see a fountain or other landscaping. After years of being curious, I finally decided to ask.




So I stopped by SunBlossom at Woodlake and spoke to a woman working there. She told me that the property was owned by a Taiwanese woman, Leeshan Birney and her husband James. James apparently was the one who came up with the novel landscaping idea seven years ago. Prior to that, that space in front of the apartments had been occupied by a fountain.



When I was a kid growing up in West Houston, I was fascinated by rocks because there are no rocks here. They seemed unbelievably exotic! I loved seeing the rocks in the Natural History Museum, but just as much, I liked seeing the rip rap and shot rock used at construction sites and the granite seawall at Galveston. (Needless to say, as an undergrad at Rice in 1984, I was delighted when 45 degrees, 90 degrees, 180 degrees was installed on campus.) This pile of granite draws my attention in the same way as shot rock did when I was a kid.



And it definitely sets the SunBlossom at Woodlake apartments apart from the cookie-cutter crowd of apartments nearby. So Leeshan and James Birney, I declare that your granite cubes is one of the best examples of corporate plop in Houston. It looks great, it's fascinating, and it calls attention to the apartments in a good way.

A Guide to Plop Art in the Woodlands

Robert Boyd

Ever feel like the great northern parts of the Houston metropolitan area are art-free? Actually, there are a few artistic outposts north of the north Sam Houston Parkway--the Pearl Fincher Museum of Fine Arts up in Spring, and the Kingwood LSC art gallery (open during the day from Monday to Friday, which pretty much excludes anyone with a job from ever seeing the exhibits...).  I'm sure there are artists up there, toiling away in their studios. What else?

It's no surprise that the Woodlands is home to a bunch of plop art. And now there is a guide. A guy named Anthony Motto has put together a book and a website cataloging the public art of the Woodlands.

From the moment I laid eyes on this particular statue, "On the Shoulders of Giants", it has been my goal to contribute something that would build an awareness and appreciation for each and every outdoor sculpture that resides in The Woodlands, Texas area.

The Woodlands outdoor sculptures collection is one of the largest collections of outdoor sculptures for a community of its size in the continental United States. There are numerous unique sculptures situated throughout The Woodlands area. It is my pleasure to present this massive collection of artwork here in a virtual tour format.

So is it worth a trip to the Woodlands to check out this sculpture collection? Eh, maybe not. Most of it seems pretty uninspired--the kind of inoffensive, bland sculpture that manages to get past some selection committee. (The perennial problem with plop art, really.) But there are a few pieces I liked.

Bob Mosier, With Love Always, welded steel plate with copper pages, 2006

This one is at the John Cooper School. Probably in the future, students there will wonder what those things in that sculpture are as they viz their electronic tablets...

Peter Reginato, Big Barbara, welded steel, paint, 1998

This one is colorful and playful, which are qualities I like in public sculptures.

Marc Rosenthal, The Rise of the Midgard Serpent, welded, painted metal, 1985

Ultra-playful. A little like Jim Love's Trojan Bear.

Charles Pebworth, The Family, welded painted metal, 1974

This was the Woodland's first public sculpture, one that I suspect most visitors to the Woodlands have seen. I like the repeating pregnant curves in it.

So all this makes me wonder if it is legal for a private citizen to put a sculpture in their yard in the Woodlands. Remember, the Woodlands, unlike Houston, has strict zoning rules. So a private sculpture might not fly.

I'm not sure that the sculpture of the Woodlands is worth a special trip, but if you are going to the Woodlands anyway, check out this website and pick some sculptures you want to see while you are there.

(Hat-tip to Glasstire.)

Corporate Plop, Continued

I promised an additional example of corporate plop that has an origin and purpose rather different from the usual large sculpture in front of an office building. This is a sculpture that you might call an accidental sculpture. It's not meant to be art, and yet can be visually interesting and even beautiful. This example, in front of FMC Technologies at 1803 Gears Rd. is a perfect example of what I am talking about.



This is a wellhead/christmas tree assembly, the complex of pipes and valves placed on top of an oil or gas well to control the flow of the oil or gas. FMC Techologies manufactures christmas trees, so it's natural that they might put one up in the front yard to show off an example of their wares. It also identifies them in a memorable way and works (as in earlier examples) as a landmark. In addition, it just looks really cool. This is a prime example of accidental corporate plop. If found objects can be art, then this christmas tree can be as well. Like all found objects, it has been removed from its standard context and function. (I am nearly certain there is no oil well underneath it.)

Robert's Houston Art Map

View Robert's Houston Art Map in a larger map

This is a map I have been keeping as I visit different art venues around town. It's not nearly complete, although I can say I have visited most of the commercial galleries and non-profit galleries/museums in the area. Obviously stuff is concentrated inside the Loop--and within the Loop in spacific areas, like the Museum District (duh), Montrose, the West End, the Heights, and the area immediately north of Downtown.

As I continue to add to this map, I expect I will add more "outside the Loop" venues. I know many of the regional community colleges have galleries on campus, for example, and I'd like to check them out. But as in most cities, art venues tend to be clustered where there is the largest number of potential artists, aficionados, intellectuals, and collectors. And for Houston, that sweet spot is mostly inside the Loop.

Corporate Plop

One of the most common ways that people experience art in Houston (and probably many other places) is that they see large, usually abstract sculptures on the grounds of office buildings. Cousins to public art (aka plop art), I call this art "corporate plop." I think it has three basic purposes. First, it's there to "class up the place." Related to that is that is is designed to show that the owner is wealthy and powerful. Finally (and most practical), it makes a useful landmark--something that people will remember about the building. It is a branding device. For instance, this piece in front of the ABB building on West Sam Houston Parkway between Richmond and Westpark.



George Schroeder, Synergy

If I were giving directions to this building, I would totally describe the three interlocking, chrome-plated ellipses out front. (ABB is a Swiss conglomerate that makes equipment used in power transmission, among other things.) So it definitely provides a landmark, and it shows off ABB's wealth--but does it show taste? Well, yes and no. It shows that ABB has typically grandiose yet bland corporate tastes. It likes its sculptures large and uncontroversial. Its sculpture should look like a slick, well-made manufactured item, because ABB is in the business of providing slick, well-made manufactured items to its clients. So all in all, I guess this is a pretty successful bit of corporate plop, even if it is a really boring piece of art. [Update: I recently learned that this piece is by San Antonio sculptor George Schroeder and is called Synergy.]

Two sculptures that send a different message are located in front of buildings at 6420 and 6430 Richmond Ave. These are low-rise office buildings, and unlike the ABB building, are occupied by several different tenants. Here is the sculpture in front of 6430:



And here's what's in front of 6420:



As landmarks, they aren't so great because they are rather small--and there is way too much visual clutter on Richmond for them to stand out. (That said, I've noticed the red one for years, so maybe it would work as a landmark.) I'm guessing these were placed here by the owner of the buildings, and if so, I assume their purpose is, in part, to signal to prospective tenants that these are classy locations for offices. (Demonstrating the classiness of these offices, given their location, must be a truly quixotic task.) But their small size and general lameness prevents them, I think, from serving as signs of the building owner's wealth or taste. And while I didn't like the ABB ellipses as art, I can see that they have a conceptual relationship with ABB's core mission, as I mention above. I don't see any similar relvance for these two sculptures. So as corporate plop, I give these two failing marks.

One of the most interesting but controversial examples of corporate plop is at 602 Sawyer, just north of Memorial Dr. This is a building with multiple tenants, and it is owned by Grubb & Ellis, a national commercial real estate firm. I'll get to the controversy later. Let's look at the sculpture first.




This is in the front of the building. Then in the back entryway (the one most people use, because it's where the parking is), we have a similar piece.

 Along the side is this piece of alien cursive.

 Similar examples of unearthly typography are hung on the back of the parking garage.



OK, if I didn't know anything about these four sculptures, I would say that they work fine as landmarks--they are distinctive and visible. They definitely show that the property owner has taste and wealth, and signal to prospective tenants that this is a classy place to have an office. And, unlike the ABB sculpture (and so much corporate plop), they don't come off as grandiose and self-important. On the contrary, they are rather playful.  In short, on all practical levels, they work very well as corporate plop. (And as a side benefit, they are nice pieces of art.)

But wait--there's more to this story. These sculptures turn out to be by an artist named George Sugarman. Specifically, they were all part of a single large sculpture, the "St. Paul Commission." This was a hanging vertical sculpture in the lobby of the First National Bank of St. Paul. But when that building was sold (along with the sculpture), the new owner didn't want it the piece. They sold it to Grubb & Ellis, which used pieces on various properties in Houston and Austin (there's another piece of the work up in the Woodlands somewhere).

So this is a weird situation--the piece has been rescued but dismembered (like so many pieces of ancient art that ended up in the loving hands of European museums).

When Ross Crowe, a Grubb & Ellis senior vice president, heard about the sculpture’s availability, he recognized Sugarman’s name because he’d seen the artist’s work at the Jack S. Blanton Museum of Art in Austin.

Acquiring, restoring the sculpture and installing its components — a total of 19 installations — at various Houston and Austin properties fit into Grubb & Ellis’ efforts to improve its curb appeal and project "a high-caliber image," he said.

"Frankly, when I made this decision, while I knew (Sugarman) was important, I didn’t understand how important," Crowe said. (Douglas Britt, The Houston Chronicle, July 17, 2009)

Naturally, this caused a certain amount of anguish among Sugarman fans and family. 

Arden Sugarman, director and president of the Novato, Calif.-based George Sugarman Foundation, said she wishes Crowe had discussed his plans with her. She first learned of the sculpture’s dismantling when Mark K. Thompson, a St. Paul attorney and blogger, e-mailed her.

"I had always loved the sculpture (it’s right across the street from where I go outside to smoke cigarettes), but I really didn’t know anything about it," Thompson wrote on markkthompson.blogspot.com about two weeks after seeing construction crews dismantle the artwork.

Arden Sugarman and Thompson weren’t the only ones who were shocked. Attorneys for Public Art Saint Paul had drafted a agreement with building representatives for title transfer and permission to remove and store the sculpture "pending restoration and identification of a new site" in St. Paul, the fall 2008 issue of the group’s newsletter reported.

But they never received a signed copy of the agreement. Two days before the deadline for removal, the group learned the work had been sold, Podas-Larson said. (ibid.)

I don't have a strong opinion about this. It's too bad it was disassembled, but at least it was saved from the scrap heap. And I have to say that the individual parts are quite delightful.

But this is not the last word on corporate plop. In fact, I intend to document interesting examples--good or bad--whenever I can. But there is a special category of corporate plop that deserves its own post, and as soon as I can get a good photo of the example I have in mind, I will share it here.