Promenade, Anne Teigen
“This costs $4,000,” said my little brother. My jaw dropped. I’d been too busy trying to figure out what was on the other end of the Yellow Queen’s leashes (I’m going to say rabbits wearing winter jackets) to glance at the caption.
We had an hour to kill in downtown Eugene, so of course an art rumpus had started. Promenade hangs with several other Teigens on the ground floor of the Hilton. It caught my eye because I’d never seen a graffiti wall depicted in a painting, but the price tag instantly turned me off. The four thousand dollar lady was clearly turning up her little bourgeois nose at the democratic mentality of street art. Promenade indeed!
A couple steps into the shadowy downtown, I started to wonder whether this was the best thing to do with an 11-year-old. Then we took a detour through a parking garage and I realized just how prepared my little hooligan was:
Being a big brother is all about scuffing the line between lazy supervision and mischievous camaraderie, which is how we ended up behind Smith Family trying to climb up the side of a building using balcony railings as a ladder. Don’t worry, we only got a couple feet off the ground.
We discovered the work of an amateur typographer in the same alleyway. Here, my little brother tries to pick a lock with a leaf stem. You might call him a debonair burglar in that he could hardly care whether he gets in. You couldn’t call him a debonaire burglar, though. He aces all his spelling tests.
Next we swung through Park Blocks, site of the original Occupy Eugene camp. It turns out the movement is still organized enough to do angry sidewalk chalk scrawling, which is more than I expected of them. Along with all the usual Occupy slogans was this delightful message. We approved.
Wind-Rain Song, Weltzin Blix <;;;–another fantastic name!
Between the Hult Center and the Hilton is this downed windmill of a sculpture. It’s always been a mystery to me, so I asked my little brother for his interpretation.
“What is it saying to us?” I said.
“It’s a place to sit,” said my bro, plopping himself down.
There you go.
The last stop on our tour was the Hilton again, where we crashed a meeting and sipped (presumably) expensive water from crystal goblets. Mischief managed, I’d say.
BONUS: Click here for Anne Teigen on those mysterious leashes, graffiti and the costs of artmaking!