Anyone who has been following Arts Without Borders knows of my fondness for sculpture parks, places with that delightful dual personality so appealing to my own dual predilections: art and the wilderness. You will also have heard of Milwaukee’s lovely example, the Lynden Sculpture Garden, which opened to the public in May. (If not, see previous post.) Well, today I learned that the Lynden Garden is not simply delightful; it is magical.
The air was fresh and the lawn soggy with last night’s rain. The brown-eyed susans and goldenrod were resplendent in that slanted glow of early morning light that is soon to be dimmed by an approaching storm. As I strolled along the edge of the pond, volley after volley of tiny frogs erupted from its grassy verge, hundreds of them plopping with tiny splashes into the water. A flock of geese flew over, circled round, and fled, for once without a sound. All the while I walked along, enchanted by the contrast of motionless sculptures and restless scenery. And that was marvelous enough, but when I reached Linda Vitamas’s installation I almost felt like I’d entered a fairy tale. (OK, now if you didn’t read my earlier review of Linda’s piece, catch up by clicking here.)
Lovely. The artist as Tinkerbell, waves her wand and up sprout new little art forms. I’m enthralled.
But—full disclosure—I am not a dispassionate observer. (Passionate, definitely passionate!) I was on the grounds today to do my own bit of conjuring. As I reported earlier, Vitamas and Kevin Giese collaborated in an on-going project of the Garden called Inside/Outside. I am honored to have been invited to do the next installation in the series. My collaborator is Phil Krejcarek, professor of art at Carroll University, which hosted my installation last year called Accidental Art: construction fences in the landscape. Stay tuned for more details to follow, but the show, which opens Oct. 24, will involve fences and sculptures.
To see examples from Accidental Art, go to my website.