You Can’t Stop Driftwood Art; You Can Only Hope To Contain It
Among the many mysteries of the universe – Stonehenge, black holes, alien corn mazes – the driftwood sculptures along the Hudson River in Manhattan have to qualify among the most intriguing, at least to the many bikers, joggers, fishermen and picnickers who pass them every day.
Since at least the spring, someone has been gathering branches worn smooth and silvery by the river, and assembling them into abstract designs. Some incorporate delicately balanced stones; some are tied with found rope. Some are small, others 6 to 8 feet tall. They are anchored among the boulders that line the river from about West 115th Street north almost to the Fairway supermarket at 132nd Street.
Most regulars have no doubt this is art. Yet one Friday in early July, Parks Department cleanup crews uprooted every one of the sculptures and tossed them on the sidewalk to be carted away, as if they were trash.
Over the last three weeks, new driftwood sculptures have slowly risen, taking the place of the old ones.
The strangest part is that nobody seems to know the identity of the artist.
Sad to say, but these pieces are in some ways more interesting than a lot of public art in the city.
But lest you call the B2 article “fluff,” know that writer Anemona Hartocollis seems to have gone to some lengths to figure out the artist’s identity:
It seems possible that the artist lives a double life, artist by night and, say, tennis pro by day.
This loosely describes an apparently homeless man who rides his bike every morning from Upper Manhattan to the Trump development at 72nd Street, where he proceeds to hit a few tennis balls, with considerable skill, on the courts under the West Side Highway.
It was afternoon, well after tennis time, and he was perched on a rock at the latitude of 120th Street, staring pensively at the river, at an intimate distance from a driftwood sculpture resembling a scarecrow. Was he the artist, someone asked. The tennis player looked startled for a moment, then shook his head and said, in an East European accent, “Maintain the law.”
The plot thickens . . . and apologies to ESPN’s Dan Patrick for the silly post title.
Posted: July 28th, 2005 | Filed under: Manhattan
