Alignment

Creating a world-class sculpture park is a monumental (no pun intended) undertaking. Begun with vision, enabled by wherewithal, and realized through the alignment of many teams of specialists. Designers, architects, contractors, engineers (environmental, civic and structural, aquatic, geotechnical, mechanical & electrical), landscapers, and more.

They all work together to create a space for people to encounter art of a grand scale. A space like Seattle's Olympic Sculpture Park, and remarkable works like Tony Smith's Stinger.

Stinger, itself, is the result of the alignment of many aspects of Smith's life. Stricken with tuberculosis as a child, he was quarantined in a cottage apart from his family home. He often occupied himself building models from small medicine boxes. As a young man he worked in the family's tool-making business and took up paintings and drawing. He went on to study architecture, work for Frank Lloyd Wright, design private homes and teach at NYU.

In New York, he befriended avant-garde painters like Pollock and Rothko and began to paint in his own abstract style. Frustrated with architecture (clients changed designs) Smith began to sculpt. By the time he reached fifty-five, the cover of Time proclaimed him the "Master of Monumentalists." This was 1967, the year he started Stinger.

“My initials are A.P.S. (Anthony P. Smith). I used to kid about their meaning Architecture, Painting and Sculpture. But I wasn’t kidding too much; it really felt that way.” -- Tony Smith, 1966

On Saturday morning, under the watchful eye of Mike Hascall, owner of Belltown's own Artech Fine Art Services, two of Stinger's four sections were carefully aligned at the base of an artfully landscaped aspen grove.

View the installation | Learn more about Tony Smith at artnet | National Gallery of Art

Comments

[BobM]

Great image--strong first impact, then more. Reminds me of a wine with a long, lingering finish.

[The County Clerk]

How does one gauge the progress of the construction of a sculpture park? One would have to assume that the installation of the sculptural pieces themselves is a harbinger of completion. If I am honest after looking back (and thinking back) through years of Bent commentary regarding this park (your park), I must remark that what should be the beginning of the story - the opening of the park - feels to me like merely dénouement. I do not live in or near Seattle. And while only a fool could fail to recognize the benefit of the completed project, the climax of this story seems to be happening now: installing the pieces. And then what? Everything slows down. Dénouement.

And this makes me think of you with more than a little sadness as the story you've so ably covered and cared for draws to a close.

Therefore I hereby move (motion 1) that we begin raising funds immediately for the founding of the SAM "Olympic Sculptural Archives." Yes, it will need to be a building and yes that will need to be built but it should be more: photos and essays about the park from inception to well after construction. Beginning with a fascinating photo history of construction, this will be a place to collect stories of people's interaction in the garden/park. In other words, it will be a learning library: the story continues.

Do I have second for this motion?
Further, I move (motion 2) that the "Olympic Sculptural Archive" (OSA) be initially headed by the artistic directors of the Belltown Bent. The idea is to make this place accessible to me and people like me - people who DON'T LIVE IN SEATTLE: an online/virtual archive. Do I have a second?

Imagine: a curated public park, curated by a fellow citizen.

Finally, I'll begin the process by sending a check someplace. Maybe to SAM. Yes, that's what I'll do. I'll annotate the "For the Belltown Bent Archive" and see what happens.