The Public Art Tour

Photo By: Michael T. Regan

by Lori Hill

The best public art is the kind that sneaks up on you, like a summer sun shower. Rounding a corner, glancing upward or passing an apartment building: Daily tos and fros are bound to take you past a piece of art you've never seen before (or make you see it in an entirely different way). Philly's full of such moments. Here's a roundabout, crosstown tour of public works meant to evoke just that feeling of serendipity.

Mary Dyer (15th and Cherry sts.): Dyer (1960) sits rather primly on a bench, her bronze hands folded loosely in her lap. Her peaceful face betrays no indication of her storied fate. Dyer was a Quaker martyr who was hanged in 1660 on Boston Common for her religious beliefs. It's a lovely, contemplative work in a quiet nook on the grounds of the Friends Center. This likeness was created by a fellow Quaker, sculptor Sylvia Shaw Judson, and, according to the Friends Center, is the only identifiable woman in an outdoor sculpture by a female artist in the city.

Split Button (University of Pennsylvania campus, between 34th and 36th sts. and Locust and Spruce sts.): Forget the giant clothespin. For a real sense of Claes Oldenburg's sense of humor, visit the Split Button (1981). Just in front of Penn's Van Pelt Library sits a white, aluminum replica of a run-of-the-mill button, 16 feet in diameter, cracked not quite down the center. Oldenburg worked on the piece with his wife and frequent collaborator, Coosje van Bruggen, and no doubt the two would be happy with the Penn students and kids alike who make their rear ends and feet very familiar with this broken fastener.

Allow Me (corner of 17th and Locust sts.): Such a properly titled work as J. Seward Johnson's Allow Me (1984) befits a genteel neighborhood like Rittenhouse Square. A open-faced man in a natty suit and crisp white shirt looks out generously on the street, a long, slender finger just touching the outer tip of his open umbrella — ready to tend to some passerby presumably caught out in a downpour. Would that most gentlemen traversing the area were so kindly"

Photo By: Michael T. Regan

Firefighter (Queen Street between Front and Second sts.): A. Joseph Kinkle's bronze Firefighter (1996) is a real man in motion. There he stands, outside a fire station in Queen Village, alert and ready for action, coat half hanging off, right leg in midair and a Dalmatian with Li'l Orphan Annie eyes by his side. And even though he's a bit defaced, with black Magic Marker tears running down his cheeks, he remains a dynamic capture of a turn-of-the-century fireman.

Untitled (Second Street between Christian Street and Moyamensing Avenue): Venture into Billy Selesnick's mural above Superior Auto Care: It definitely sneaks up on you. Camouflaged on the lefthand side is Sherlock Holmes, magnifying glass, wool cap and all, ready to solve some Moyamensing Avenue mystery. Look for the other hidden characters along its light-dappled path.

Woman Looking Through a Window (Chestnut Street between Sixth and Seventh sts.): Everything is glaringly white — the woman, her clothes and the window frame behind which she stands, somewhat grimly. Everything but the window itself. That window is how George Segal allows Independence Hall tourists and working stiffs to cross the path of this quiet woman who looks out on Chestnut Street round the clock. Maybe the increasingly vigilant park rangers can relax a bit: This Woman (1980) is always watching.

Photo By: Michael T. Regan

Face Fragment (35th and Market sts.): The 10-foot-tall, 500-pound Fragment (1975) in West Philadelphia doesn't exactly sneak up on you, but its presence — from its muted golden hue to its emotionless expression — exudes surprising calm. Sculptor Arlene Love has created a refreshing bit of fleshy humanity amid all the asphalt and glass on this busy block of Market.

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