Have You Visited Any of Keith Haring’s Public Sculptures?
Seeing Haring’s public sculptures is always a treat for me. They hold a special place in my heart and imagination. His oft-whimsical and colorful forms tap into a place in my imagination that feels child-like.
He perfected saying so much with so little, leaving your imagination to do the rest.
Haring’s Public Sculptures Visited
Untitled (Three Dancing Figures) – San Francisco
At the tail end of a bicycle trip in Mammoth, California – we spent some time in San Francisco, before flying back home to New York. With no plan to be there, we found ourselves wandering around the city, just taking things in.
While walking outside of the de Young Museum, we were treated to this happy Haring piece:
Haring in New Hyde Park, NY
Today you’ll still be able to spot the sculpture it the courtyard of the newly-renamed Steven and Alexandra Cohen Children’s Medical Center of New York.
My Visitation Note
This photo was taken while doing a bit of a snap and go. Because I was on my motorcycle and look really tough (I don’t), I parked at the valet parking curb and walked over to take some photos.
Sometimes if I break the rules and do something like stick my teeny motorcycle somewhere it shouldn’t be – if I flip my helmet up, smile and act like everything is perfectly normal, no one says anything.
I’m not so sure I would have the same result in my car.
Haring on Astor Place, NYC
Haring’s Self Portrait at 51 Astor Place in NYC, sits in the shadow of IBM’s Watson. It also has a big Koon’s bunny as a neighbor.
Both the Koons and the Haring are controversial pieces with many on both sides of the love/hate divide.
Put me firmly in the love column. They’re both my kind of not-so-serious.
Hometown Haring – Kutztown, PA
On my way home from sleeping in a caboose, I stopped to visit Haring’s Figure Balancing On Dog at Kutztown Park in Kutztown, Pennsylvania.
This piece pays tribute to the late artist in his hometown.
Visiting this one felt a little melancholy. This place where he began was a strange reminder that he is no longer here. What would his work have evolved into if he lived? Sadly, we’ll never know.
But, we can celebrate what is.
My Take-Home Thoughts
These simple shapes can prove difficult to photograph, for me. If you catch them on certain angles, some of the figures all but disappear. Is that his way of making us walk around the piece? Or is he directing us to the “correct” viewing position? I wish I knew.
After years of reading about his life, viewing his work, walking by Pop Shop when it was still open in New York, it seems like he’s always been a part of my consciousness.
How is it you can miss someone you never knew?