So I'm a clumsy person, that's definitely true. However, I take no responsibility for the times I've slid in front of Wheeler residence hall, trying to take a short cut up that grassy hill. Let me tell you, that white steel thing is much more slippery than it looks.
I mean, what is the deal with that anyway? At first glance, it simply looks like a crashed jumbo jet and trips up innocent people like me who can't see how long the sculpture is, especially when covered in snow.
Minimalism, like the style of that sculpture, makes me feel stupid in other ways. I feel like there must be some deep meaning to it, some reason why Dartmouth paid to have it installed, but I just don't get it.
According to Katherine Hart, curator of academic programming at the Hood Museum, my lack of understanding is kind of the point.
"[The sculptors] are trying to get away from you interpreting and knowing what a sculpture is the moment you see it, and then shutting down," she said. "You have to interpret it."
That being said, here's the low-down of five pieces of art you probably walk by at least once a day.
1) "Thel" by Beverly Pepper. Location: the lawn between Wheeler and Fairchild.
In 1975, the Dartmouth Board of Trustees commissioned this sculpture for the new Fairchild Sciences center. The choice of Pepper, a female sculptor, was significant for both the newly coed College and in the context of the male-dominated contemporary art world.
According to a soon to be released book edited by Brian Kennedy and Emily Shubert Burke, "Modern and Contemporary Art at Dartmouth: Highlights from the Hood Museum of Art," the white of the piece was meant to reflect the color of nearby Dartmouth Hall as well as the snow, while the grass was added to integrate the entire sculpture further into the landscape.
In this way, Pepper used minimalist vocabulary, but engaged it with the earth, according to Hart. Although you might refer to it as the "plane crash," another point of minimalism is that there is no easy way to describe the work. You have to see it for yourself to understand it.
2) "X-Delta" by Mark Di Suvero, 1970. Location: by Brewster Hall, behind the Hood Museum and the Hopkins Center for the Performing Arts.
When I hear "X-Delta," I think superhero, or at least something super strong. This sculpture is not quite like that, but it does fly (or swing at least), and I'm sure that iron would be a pain to move.
Well actually, the Di Suvero sculpture has been moved a number of times, from the front of Sanborn library, to beside the Sphinx, to its current nook by Loew Auditorium.
The sculpture was first moved after students protested the placement in front of the library, where god knows we need easy access. Students made T-shirts against the work, and even built a spoof of the sculpture out of trash and placed it in the center of the Green, as described in the book edited by Kennedy and Shubert Burke.
I don't know if students would have been so negative if Di Suvero had installed the work as originally intended, with a mattress on the swing platform. Outside of the library seems like a perfect place for a daybed to me. The artist did actually encourage students to sit on the swing, a good way to see the sculpture from a new point of view.
"A lot of people can sense the sculpture's playfulness and its activeness," Hart said, "Because it physically has a place for you."
The shapes of the beams are supposed to hint at the Greek characters of the title, while the crane and the swing itself play on the ideas of balance and center of gravity, according to Hart.
3) "Two-Plate Prop" by Richard Serra. Location: the courtyard in the center of the Hop.
The "prop" part of the title is literal; the two parts aren't connected, but the combined weight of 2,600 pounds for the two pieces of Corten steel holds them in place.
Have no idea what I'm talking about? Look to your left next time you're rubbing Bentley's nose on the way to check your Hinman Box. You can't literally "run into" this sculpture because the courtyard is closed off, but I bet you walk by it at least several times a week
Serra's sculptures are generally large-scale manipulations of sheet metal that are intended to relate to both the environment and the viewer, according to Hart.
"The experience [of this sculpture] is about very basic things: your body in relation to it," Hart said. "It takes all that narrative away and it is a study of sculpture itself."
4) Inuksuk by Peter Irniq. Location: the lawn in front of McNutt Hall.
In 2007, Irniq, an artist from Nunavut, Canada, created this sculpture for Dartmouth in relation to an exhibition at the Hood called "Our Land: Contemporary Art from the Artic."
Inuksuk literally means "likeness of a person," and such sculptures are often used for a number of things, generally serving as a landmark to guide travelers or as a marker for hunting grounds.
In its place in front of McNutt, the Inuksuk guides innumerable high school students as they visit Dartmouth for the first time.
Unfortunately, the sculpture has been damaged a number of times by students taking some of its rocks. But now, thanks to rods placed inside the stones, the Inuksuk is again standing tall to guide even current students.
"They are like highway signs on the road," Irniq said in a 2007 interview with the Hood Museum. "Some Inuksuk have windows, indicating that they point to something important. Through the window of this Inuksuk, students can see from the admissions office across to the place where they may one day graduate from Dartmouth."
5) "Peaceful Serenity" by Allan Houser. Location: the lawn in front of Sherman House.
Dartmouth students could all use a little more peaceful serenity. I know this is true because every term I want to take the meditation and relaxation gym class, but some fools wake up hours before me and take up all of the spots. However, this sculpture clearly has much more significance than pure relaxation.
Houser is one of the most important Native American artists of the 20th century, and was an artist-in-residence at the College in 1979.
His work is important in the way that it brings together traditional Native American themes with modernist style, according to the book.
This particular bronze-plated work is an abstract representation of a mother and her children that is intended to induce emotion, hopefully of the calming kind.
Ultimately, public sculptures bring the fine arts into the daily lives of everyone on campus, even if they only see them by accident.
However, "if you walk by a piece and it makes you think, even a little, then it's a success," Nancy Silliman, assistant to the director of the Studio Art Exhibition Program, said.
