I Forgot to Mention the Piece by Rolon Bert Garner That You've Probably Seen Already


"But where there's equality here, it looks more like deadening sameness. And the overarching picture—of the big house overlooking all the rest—is of inequality"

Wow you should be a god damn detective.
Though I do like this piece, sometimes I have my dog jump over the houses. It is the rare good piece of public art and it makes me glad that i live in Seattle.
It looks like Mudede's vision of housing density. Then, when your life is over, you're sealed inside and it become's your tomb..
I always assumed that piece had to do with Japanese internment camps. Did I just make that up myself?
I always think of Army camps with the officers in the large hut on the hill.
Unfortunately, that lower picture reminds me of a veal farm out in Fall City.
The way I interpret it, is that 'equality' was what planners / decision makers / politicans acting on behalf of the masses had in mind when they opened up the land for urban sprawl.

In our attempts to give everyone their own private castle, we have the grim monotony and isolating tombs of suburbia.
What the fuck?

Don Scott, the artist whose name is mentioned somewhere here in this article had NOTHING to do with this "sculpture"? Istallation?

I knew Don for years before I moved to southern Oregon. I knew him before he died, I knew him at the Deluxe on Broadway, I knew him at his house somewhere near Seattle Center. We had tea at his house many times; many cups of tea. We had conversations... MANY conversations; about art, about science, about sex, about life, about why the fucking sky was fuckibg blue. (Me) "Don. How many undifferentiated continuums do you suppose there are?" (Don) Mulling over the question... eyes raised deep in thought, whistling quietly and then replying "Just one."

Don went to Afganistan before the Russians invaded He wanted to know what the sex life was like ib Kabul. (Me) 'So, Don, what WAS it like?" Looking again at the ceiling, a light warbling whistle as he contemplated it at bit and then replied "Ecstatic! Absolute pure ecstacy. Pure ecstasy." Unlike Don I'm not gay. But I appreciated his appreciation of sex the way he liked it.

This installation khas NOTHING to do with Don Scott. Don, as the official Western Region Director of Buckminster Fuller's World Game Conference at the time, had conceived something entirely different from what Bert Gardner and Ken Leback put on the site that Don had already secured from the powers thaty be. All they did was toss out Don's proposal and stick this boring piece of shit in place instead. The least they could have done was ensure Don's name appeared in no way connected with this granite monument to the ticky-tacky houses of Levittstown, Pennsylvania. Yes, Gardner and Leback caught the ricky-tackness right on. But evidently they did not and do no understand that same tick-tactness is now attached to their own forrm of "Art." Ticky tacky art; ricky tacky artists.

I'm gone. I'm not coming back.

Matthew Lubic

Ashland, OR (Temporarily)