Disturbing dummies and serendipitous uniramia

I have not been too proud to publish occasional art reviews in this blog, for example, my review of the artistic value of sculpture representing the contents of my kitchen tidy (blogged March 7 this year), or the very recent "stuffed housewife" (my last post).

I was informed by one of my network of art aficionadoes (hi Len) that a mere stone's throw from the dead fish and moldy citrus statues, in Hindmarsh Square, one can find a grotesque series of a half-dozen bronze crash-test dummies whose poses suggest they may not be feeling very well. I followed the tip and sure enough, there they were, looking for all the world like the kind of art only Vlad Tepes would appreciate. And ironically (or in their case bronze-onically), they were opposite the former Royal Automobile Association site.


So here they are for your edification. And moving on to edifices, some distance south, in a side alley off a side alley and where no tourist or art connoisseur goes, is this edifice - the St. Mary Magdalene church hall. Look closely. Do you see anything interesting about it?


Did you click on the image for a bigger version?

Okay, if you haven't noticed them by now, you should find a good strong insect repellant as soon as possible.

Bugs. Or if you like, uniramia.


They look like they escaped from not so much a monster movie as a pulp science-fiction anthology, oh, let's say the one edited by Donald A Wollheim, "More Terror in the Modern Vein" (Digit, 1955) in which he published a short story of his own, "Mimic", later totally exaggerated into a feature movie of the same name.

It was about bugs evolving, as bugs do, to become either unnoticed, or to appear threatening or inedible, and hiding in modern urban settings disguised as anything from chimney pots to eccentric old recluses who probably write blogs (except when it was written there were no blogs). By the way, I have still got the above anthology, bought when I was in high school, and kept because I really liked that particular story in its original pre-Hollywood form.


Well this lot succeeded. I bet not one passer-by in a hundred notices them spread along the side of the church hall. My favourite is the one on the right, above.

I suspect that in their larval form they are equally unnoticed, but I may never pass a fire hydrant or parking meter again without having a can of insecticide handy.

Still, a good fantasy is better than accepting the stark reality that local art has come down to representing fish bones and suspended crash-test-dummies. Mind you, creating something as original as those bugs out of "found objects" then placing them in an obscure location to be found serendipitously is my idea of artistic!