sculpture
Carved Stone Creations (Kaukauna, Wis.) offers a line of carved stone fountains that take their…
When my wife and I made the long drive from St. Louis to Los Angeles in October 2017, I knew that once we crossed the Missouri state line in Kansas City (the glorious "City of Fountains"), we weren't going to see any significant watershapes on the path we'd selected.
We stopped in some great non-aquatic spots in Kansas, memorably the Wizard of Oz Museum in Wamego and S.P. Dinsmoor's Garden of Eden in Lucas. But mostly we set our sights on pushing through at an unwavering pace to Durango, Colo., with thoughts of the natural wonders we'd find thereabouts dancing in our heads.
As we approached the Kansas/Colorado border, we had a stroke of luck: I received a call from a friend in Colorado Springs who, upon hearing where we were, offered to put us up if we'd take a little detour and head north rather than south once we reached Pueblo. It immediately put me in mind that a fountain I had long carried on the list of waterfeatures I wanted to see and discuss in WaterShapes was right there.
I knew about this fountain because on the few occasions when we published a feature article in which an artist used a helical or circular form as the core of a sculptural fountain, I'd get a note, call or email from someone telling me that what we'd published was great, but if we really wanted to see something transformative, the Julie Penrose Fountain in Colorado Springs was beyond description and well worth a visit.
Here was my opportunity at last: Our first day in Colorado Springs was filled with blustery winds, hoodoos and the Garden of the Gods, which let us reserve the whole of our second and final day for America the Beautiful Park, where the Julie Penrose Fountain occupies a special place.
The winds relented and the day was fair and warm - but I was blown away just the same: The Julie Penrose Fountain stands more than 40 feet tall, and although I'd seen photographs, I had no idea either how large it was or that it turned on its axis four times an hour. I was overwhelmed - and moderately drenched when an unexpected breeze lashed us with water and mist shortly after our arrival.
When we were safely back home, I put a note about the fountain on my long list of coverage candidates - and in the press of business a Travelogue I was truly keen to write slipped into a crack from which it has only now been rescued.
As I began my usual research on the fountain's creation and history, I came across the video linked below. It offers such a detailed perspective on the fountain that I'm going to let it do the rest of my work this time. Although the narration is almost painfully low key, the video itself captures the majesty of the sculpture, the transient beauty of the fountain effect and the sheer joy of hanging out in America the Beautiful Park with the mountains as a backdrop - even if you get soaked!
To see a video on the Julie Penrose Fountain in Colorado Springs, click here.
I must start by letting you know that I have yet to see this watershape personally. Even so, it is so extraordinarily odd and conceptually brilliant that I couldn't resist writing it up and suggesting we all should add it to our lists of things we need to see while we still can.
Situated off an intersection in the heart of Bern, Switzerland, the fountain is called "The Spiral Column (Nature's Way)" and is the work of Meret Oppenheim, a German-born Swiss artist who became an icon of the Surrealist movement and had a career that spanned more than 50 years from the 1930s into the 1980s. This fountain is one of her last works, completed just two years before she died in 1985 - and indeed she didn't last long enough after its dedication to see how it turned out.
The original spiral tower was simple enough in form, maybe even a bit dull - sort of like a section of threaded rod with a weird hat. The real genius came in Oppenheim's anticipation of what would happen as the structure flowed year 'round with water from a mineral-rich source: Before long, the water's calcium content began depositing itself on the surface of the tower, adding strange protuberances that keep growing so dramatically that, periodically, the city needs to chip them back to keep the composition from toppling.
Born in 1903, Oppenheim moved in distinctly artistic circles as she grew up and eventually moved to Paris at age 18 to study and, more steadily, hang out with other artists. In 1933, she was invited by friends to participate in a Surrealist exhibition and quickly rose to prominence among her peers, before long becoming part of André Breton's influential circle. Later, she returned to her Swiss roots, taking up residence in Bern in the 1960s.
The legacy she left behind in her chosen home base is just fascinating: The Spiral Column changes daily as water flows shift in response to the calcium growth. And then there are the various plants, mosses and lichens that have taken hold: They change colors as time passes, growing and fading with the seasons. Finally, in the dead of Bern's long winters, the spiral is wrapped in icicles in odd patches, with the white drapery projecting outward to reveal all of the surface distortions that have accumulated during the year.
It's a spectacular idea, one worthy of respect and admiration. But apparently it's something of a civic issue that the composition is also spectacularly ugly.
The local attitude toward Oppenheim's fountain reminds me of the occasional uprisings in San Francisco aimed at demolishing the Vaillancourt Fountain, another Brutalist waterfeature that seems under perpetual threat. By comparison, however, the Vaillancourt Fountain is actually on the pretty side, and even I would have objections to "The Spiral Column" if I didn't perceive it as such a timeless, insightful look inside the nature of water, calcium and the persistence of plants and microorganisms.
I also think it's both ironic and hilarious that the city has tried to dress the fountain area up with large foreground flower pots: Anyone with enough ill-will to think of ramming the hideous fountain to do away with it will have to destroy conventional beauty on the way.
I haven't been to Switzerland since the 1970s and haven't felt much need to go back - until now, that is. This is one weird fountain, and I'm anxious to see it for myself!
As our business has evolved through the years, more and more often we've found ourselves involved in designing, engineering and installing waterfeatures associated with hospitals, medical centers and other healthcare institutions. These projects usually fall under the heading of "wellness gardens" or "healing gardens" - that is, spaces set aside for patients, families and staff to decompress, meditate or simply take a break. While these watershapes are generally simple in concept, there's typically more to the way they're designed and built than meets the eye - a fact that adds an extra layer of