What Is Art?

I can't pretend to answer that question in a way that would satisfy anybody.

I'm not even certain there was an artful way to combine a cow and shoes, but surely someone might've come closer than this.

What I found especially odd was that the same artist who slapped together this shoddy mess also pieced together the witty, captivatingly beautiful Pasture Bedtime.

Maybe it's a pointed commentary on the perils of corporate sponsorship? (This one was sponsored by Famous Footware.)

Blanketing the lawn at the capital, spectators mark their spots in antiticpation of tonight's performance of Concerts On The Square. If I'd known the performance would feature Some Enchanted Evening and On The Street Where You Live, I would have been right down there with them.

Haus Building

House or building? Or house-building? The flatiron at the corner of King and Wilson streets suffers a permanent identity crisis.

Martin Luther King Memorial, Madison

Next to the municipal building on Martin Luther King Boulevard.

Art Fair On The Square 2006, Madison

Moving in the customary counter-clockwise direction, the teeming masses wander from vendor to vendor looking at everything from fine works of art to, in the opinion of this writer, drek that isn't fit for a garage sale.

When we went to last years's art fair we saw all kinds of really cool works that we'd love to have, if only we'd had the discretionary income to be able to afford it. As we were both looking for jobs, we didn't. This year, we saw two, maybe three things we'd like to have. There was certainly as much variety as last year, but we saw a lot less of that special something.

And the expense! The one or two things we saw that we would have really liked to buy had truly exhorbitant price tags attached! I'm keenly aware that an artist's talent and his time are valuable, but just about all of these guys have plainly priced themselves far out of the market that includes little old middle-class me.

And the drek? One booth featured hundreds of airplanes and helicopters crudely fashioned out of empty soda cans hacked to shape with ginsu knives and pinned together with pop rivets. Prices started at eighteen bucks apiece. Call that art? Coz I don't. Guess that makes me snotty and pretentious.

Pasture Bedtime again

While we were on the square I had to show Tim the cow art called Pasture Bedtime, and snapped this side view.

Totem in a garden
Schenk-Atwood neighborhood, Madison

The totem itself isn't so unusual; what caught my eye was the golf ball in his hat. I've seen all kinds of offerings to the kami, up to and including soft drinks and sandwich cookies, but this is the first time I've seen evidence that the spirits are duffers.

The fountains at the corners where Washington Avenue is interrupted by capital square have finally been filled with water, plugged in and are ready to bathe every bird in town, and I wouldn't be surprised to find a homeless street person washing up over these basins now and again.

Various work men have been laboring to install the fountains for at least a year. Ground was broken and hairy-armed hardhats were pouring concrete footings when we first arrived in Madison a year ago this week. They spread visquine tarps over heavy frames to continue welding the framework through the winter, and they've been piecing together the marble and bolting down the bronze bowls ever since the first days of fair weather.

Water started running last week, but this is the first close look I got. Water gushes from bowls at either end of an arc and tumbles over the side to sheet down a low, curved marble wall. They're not especially attractive to the eye, but the sound is pleasing and the birds love to dance in the water.

Damn, you don't see a car like this in the parking lot every day. Or more often than once a year, if you're counting.

I'd be willing to bet this little monster can go from zero to sixty in about the same amount of time it takes you to read all the way to the full stop at the end of this sentence.

I've always had a great big thang for Mustangs, but for a long time I couldn't abide white ones on account of a near miss with one while I was out cruising with a friend. As we crossed a divided highway Mike thought he had plenty of time to squeek past the Mustang coming at us in the far lane, but he wasn't in the passenger seat looking straight at the guy driving the other car. I could see every wrinkle on his forehead, and as our eyes met we both very clearly communicated the same thought to each other in a single heartbeat: We're going to die. Then he flashed past us, Mike finished the turn and he never, ever admitted that we'd been in the slightest danger of collision for a moment.

I got over that scare years ago so I can ooohhh and ahhhh over every Mustang I see prowling the streets nowadays, each sighting an especially delightful treat because I don't see that many. And I mean real Mustangs, not those posers that Ford's been squirting out for the past five or ten years. This one's obviously been lovingly cared for and garaged whenever foul weather threatens. What a wondeful toy.

There's a Word For It ... Paradox? Conundrum?

In the Mansion Hill District of Madison, this gorgeous old pile of sandstone and timber anchors one corner of the same block as ...

... this boring, clunky metal and glass box. Uck.

And I don't want to even think about what they tore down to make way for this monstrosity.

Bethel Lutheran Church

Strolling along Wisconsin Avenue toward the Mansion Hill District I passed one of the rear exit doors of Bethel church, overgrown with ivy. Decorative trees framed either side of the exit and grew in a small garden to one side. If there had been a bench, I could have taken a seat and contemplated my shoe laces for an hour. Or not. If there had been a bench, a hobo would almost certainly have been sleeping on it.

The building is a contemporary construction and the ivy probably hasn't been growing there more than a season or two, but this feels like an age-old sanctuary. Even with the traffic roaring past on Johnson Street less than fifty feet away, the sheltered exit was a tranquil pocket of solitude.

Monona Terrace

So named because it's on the shore of Lake Monona on the isthmus in Madison, not because it's in Monona, the city on the other side of the lake. Clear as mud?

Monona Terrace is a convention center based on a 1938 design by Frank Lloyd Wright. The design as envisioned was to be for a civic center on the order of Marin County's, but it ran into a lot of political opposition and the idea was shelved. They'd occasionally bring it out, dust it off and fight over it for a little while before shelving it again. This went on for decades until 1992 when finally the city, casting about for designs for an exhibition center, approved this watered-down version of Wright's plan.

It's a very pretty place, and you can see Wright's influence in the design, but it's a far cry from what he originally planned, and when you take a look at the Marin County version it almost makes you weep to think of the jewel Madison could have had.

A Bunch O' Brass #1

Mail box in the State Office Building, 1 W. Wilson Street, Madison. Graven eagles don't get much more stalwart than this heraldic gem.

I had to make a delivery to this building last week in the course of my dutites and walked out with my jaw dragging the pavement. I love art deco; it's my dream to have my ashes scattered to the wind from the top of the Chrysler Building but, if that turns out to be impossible, and I have a hunch it might be, then box me up and put me in the mail drop at 1 West Wilson and I'll rest in peace.

A Bunch O' Brass #2

In this building, everything that could possibly be wrought from brass has been made from brass. When was the last time you saw the building directory tricked out in anything fancier than a plain frame of brushed chrome? There's enough ornamentation here to decorate every wedding cake in Wisconsin for the rest of the year.

A Bunch O' Brass #3

The last time I saw a doorway this ornate I was sightseeing in a cathedral. I wonder how they keep all that brass shining without a crew of hundreds of rag-weilding gnomes polishing every inch of it constantly throughout the day? Either it's not brass, which I refuse to believe, or they sealed it beneath a protective transparent overcoat after first polishing it to a high gloss. The effect is dazzling.

I didn't notice until I posted this photo that the clock was broken, or possibly it's running eight hours slow.

A Bunch O' Brass #4

The State motto flanked by African violets, Wisconsin's flower. This shield appears at the top of each of the four lamps standing on the stairs to the front door.

Introducing

Dave's Madison Trivia

Tidbit #1: The only clock on capital square is this Guiness-themed time piece on the sign over the door of Brocach, downtown Madison's "Irish" pub. And it's wrong. I don't remember when it stopped working; maybe when vandals broke the windows last month. For the past couple weeks it's been stuck at about five-thirty, although this morning it was twelve o'clock so maybe it's finally broken loose and is trying to catch up.

I've been to an Irish pub or two and they didn't resemble this one much, which combines the rustic decor of a Black-Eyed Pea with the tables and booths of a Bennigan's. The food's not bad, though, and they do serve Guiness, plus I like the location. Worth stopping for. Just not all that Irish.

Monona's Independence Day Fireworks

...began right on time, or as near to 9:20pm as to make no difference.

We had no idea it was as popular an event as the hundreds of cars parked along Monona's streets proved it was. We parked in the lot behind St Theresa's and walked down Greenway to the baseball field near the municipal center, found a spot of grass, and planted our chairs just in time.

Monona's Fireworks ... or a Close Encounter?

Monona's Fireworks Encore!

Here's one more for the road ... now I've got to go to bed.