Team Abulous had a small taste of culture this evening. No I am not talking about Dairy Farmers Greek Style yoghurt. (BTW – yoghurt is by far the best thing to have come out of Greece. Democracy and botty sex are over rated). We actually did some bona fide art appreciation and joined the local cognescenti at Sculpture By The Sea. P1 was the driving force behind this brief rendezvous with Post Modernism (or are we post Post Modern nowadays). The weekend’s encounter with the Lego Forrest on Coogee headland whetted her appetite for the sculptural medium. That is to say she was excited by the idea of more oversized plastic stuff to clamber on.
We ventured to Tamarama, the stretch of sand otherwise known as “Glamour -rama” to find it denuded of its usual crowd of scantily clad gay mafia and off duty models. Instead the beach was adorned with a different kind of fabulousness. P1 was enchanted by this colourful igloo. It was made out of much more clothing than you would normally find on the entire beach and park on a mid summer’s day.
P2 made a beeline for the first thing that resembled a climbing frame. Signs forbidding the public from touching the artworks were gleefully ignored. Seriously you can’t put this kind of stuff on the beach and expect kids to not climb on it. Its against the laws of nature.
P2 had tremendous fun swinging from the colorful monkey bars but it was this fellow who really impressed her. Its a solar powered, bike riding, punk rocking frog. Come to think of it, he sounds like a composite of some of the dude’s I dated during my 20s. Yup I kissed many a frog.
The robotic frog wasn’t the most surprising thing on the Tamarama sands. Twiggy made a guest appearance* and I recovered an over sized pair of retro sunglasses that had been missing for some time.
Things got surreal in a Salvador Dali sort of way with this. Its a melting dump truck. Sometimes I feel this deflated when I am taking a dump. (Apologies for the unpleasant imagery).
Winding our way up the coastal walk towards Bondi, things got beastly. I’ll refrain from making any corny one-liners about metallic cocks and let the photo do the talking.
Where’s Dr Who when you need him? The eastern beaches are about to be over run by a bizarre alien race of gun toting sheep men!!
Similarly this has me disconcerted. Is it the result of a cloning experiment gone horribly wrong? On the positive, while the dude has a face like a dog, he’s got some righteous abs. The bunny could be in Playboy (wokka, wokka, wokka). Meanwhile I’m wondering what the donkey’s making of all this. Its certainly got the bum end of the deal.
We would have loved to have seen more but with a three year old who has recently dropped her day sleep it was impossible to continue. The event brings out the fun and playful side to art. There was no need to reverentially deconstruct of the deeper nuances underlying each interactive piece blah, blah blah. Although there was nothing to stop you analyzing the exhibits to your hearts content if you are so inclined. The rest of us got our share of smiles and giggles from the spectacle and you could not have asked for a better gallery space.
* Why should Dad’s have all the fun with the lame jokes.