The artwork on the UMB campus is unique, if nothing else. I am no expert on artwork, but I have been walking by these pieces every day for three years. What emotion do they evoke in me? Confusion.
A Glob of Tissue Paper
“The Hero at Evening” is the name of the piece in front of Wheatley. It looks like an impressive giant white stone plucked from the bowels of the earth and placed, aesthetically, on our trash-mound campus. I appreciated this work of art more when I thought it was a natural occurrence. It is not. Artist William Tucker created the piece, spending long hours etching out its crevices with painful detail. To me it just looks like a rock, or an oversized used tissue.
Invisible Cubes
Posted on the wall of Wheatley, facing the Campus Center, is a plaque describing the artwork titled, “Double Cubes” by artist Sol LeWitt. The actual cubes have apparently been absent from the campus for several years now.
That Obsidian Jumble
The work titled “Reclining Figure” is perhaps the most bewildering of all the pieces on campus. Located between Wheatley and the Campus Center, students sit on the stone wall parameter around this William de Kooning work. It looks like some microscopic entity enlarged, a series of long-chain fatty acids assembled haphazardly, then enlarged. Perhaps an enzyme? Its dipping, twirling, interconnected black musculature isn’t unpleasing to look at. However, if the artist intended for it to evoke a feeling of relaxation I can’t see it. Perhaps de Kooning knew it would be a center piece in an area on campus frequented by students relaxing between classes.
The Steel Worker
I don’t even know if that is the real name of the work, but that’s the name everyone gives it. I actually have nothing to say about this gargantuan worker-bee. He’s pretty awesome, though a little bit intimidating — especially at night.
Multicolored Bacon
Another unnamed plaque-less piece rests beside the Campus Center driveway, on the left if you are driving in, on the right if you are looking from the Campus Center. It really does look like entangled strips of multicolored bacon; one green, one blue, and one bacon-colored.
Danger, It Moves
Another favorite of mine is the big, rusty metal thing that may have a plaque, but is now sequestered within the confines of the Integrated Science Center construction site. For the sake of giving it a name, I will call it (lovingly)
Big Rusty Metal Thing
At first glance it resembles an odd assortment of railroad pylons piled perilously together. Upon closer inspection, it resembles an odd assortment of railroad pylons piled perilously together — or maybe an enemy battle cruiser from Star Trek perched for display on some geek’s desktop. Set phasers to awesome! it moves!
Yes, Big Rusty Metal Thing moves! Its design allows the enormous pylons to shift in a strong wind, despite weighing thousands of pounds. Nonetheless, it looks like a byproduct of the construction site it now inhabits.
An Upside Down Elephant
“Rhea,” “Ouranus,” and “Kronos” are the names of the three oblique obelisks outside the science building. Ouranus would also be an awesome name for a gay night club. These are names plucked from Greek mythology. A friend pointed out to me that they resemble an upside-down elephant, whose torso is buried beneath the ground so that two of its legs and its trunk are the only visible appendages. Now, whenever I pass by, that’s all I see: rear left leg, front right leg, and trunk of an enormous and unfortunate elephant.
The Alligators
No campus art review would be complete without commenting on the alligators. All I have to say is this: if you’re running by this masterpiece, you’d better high five it.
