I was sitting in my living room this morning with a fresh cup of coffee. Shannon is out of town and my youngest son was still sleeping. I dropped the needle on Pink Flag by Wire: caffeine and punk, watch me jumpstart.
I was ready to enjoy a Saturday getting some work done around the house and running some errands. It was my day to do what I want. Like Bob Pollard said in Watch Me Jumpstart:
“Watch me bulldoze every bulldozer away
Each new obstacle from each old new day
Where it's going it's hard for me to say.” - Robert Pollard, Guided By Voices
I was ready to rock this Saturday and Wire was spinning in the living room.
Turns out I wasn’t meant to listen to the full album.
I got a message from an acquaintance in the Visitation Park Neighborhood who said the city was tearing down Land of Giants, Bill Christman’s sculpture park at Cabanne and Union…as we speak.
Bulldozers were swirling in my head and not the good kind of dozin’ away.
I asked who is tearing it down? The city, he replied.
I ripped the needle off the record and went upstairs to get dressed and drive over there.
I first discovered Land of Giants back in 2019 when I was doing an update on my neighborhood profiles. It is an outdoor sculpture area that was slowly becoming an amazing place to draw you in. I was smitten. Part roadside curiosity, part mid-Century kitsch, part City Museum/Joe’s Cafe reminders.
Christman is the renowned artist behind Joe’s Cafe in the Skinker DeBaliviere Neighborhood and a collaborator of Bob Cassilly’s on the City Museum. Beatnik Bob’s Museum, that’s him.
His fascination with robots, beatnik culture, and sculpture hits my heart in the best of places. I think Beatnik Bobs was one of the coolest spots in the city to drink a beer and drop some quarters in a pinball machine. Joe’s Cafe is a great place to see a chill show…if they let you in.
These are reminders of the Bohemian St. Louis, the borderline hippie, free spirited artist community of St. Louis’ past in the West End, without the trappings and jam band music of course. The good parts of that era.
I was crushed when I heard the city decided to get rid of Land of Giants. Who did this, and why?
When I parked in front of the Clark School lofts, the demolition crew was in full swing. Workers were on the site, as was Bill. I didn’t know it was Bill at first. He had his dog and looked like a man in shock. A man in mourning. I asked what was going on and the workers didn’t want to talk and gave me that “who the fuck are you” stare. Bill didn’t really want to talk either. Not knowing it was him upon arriving, I mentioned someone notified me the city gave Christman notice of demo on Tuesday and here it is Saturday in full demo mode. Christman said, “yeah they told me I had two days to get anything I wanted off the property.”
That’s when it dawned on me. Shit, that’s him.
I put 2 and 2 together and gave him his space as he clearly didn’t want to talk to some stranger/gawker. He did say he has cancer and was visibly distraught. He knows the guy who alerted me to the situation, I tried to talk a bit, but again, he wasn’t interested. I asked if I could walk around and get some photos/videos to document it.
Sure.
I walked around and so much was already gone. The catapult, the Rikky-Tikky-Tavy sculpture, the ice cream cone, the popsicle bridge, the Willie McGee painting with #15 instead of #51, the church steeple, all gone. You can see photos of all this stuff in my Visitation Park Neighborhood profile update from 2019.
I was melancholy as I walked the property and feeling Bill’s pain. What must this be like to be targeted by the city as an artist. It was a magical place, not unlike City Museum or Joe’s Cafe. This was a place that made me love St. Louis. Christman grew up in this neighborhood by the way, so that was swirling in my head. This is his home. I was heart punched. I felt so incredibly sad that the establishment can tear down all this work, all this beauty, all this art, all this spectacle.
Here’s what I saw today.
That’s Bill in the forefront of that last photo.
See how they crushed and disposed of that cool bumper car and other stuff in this video.
The city says, send this art to the landfill. Not unlike the brick and stone they don’t value that is jettisoned out of this exact neighborhood.
I walked around, heart sinking, so much lost and why. So much beauty, creativity and wonder.
I knew Christman didn’t want to talk and who would. But I did tell him I was going to do a post on this and asked if he is doing okay. Nah, would you be? I’m so sorry.
I asked what the hell happened. It was the alderperson. Shameem Clark Hubbard, he said she didn’t like him.
She went so far as to mark her territory on his property. I guess you win in your mind, Hubbard.
Now I’ve never met or heard of Alderperson Clark-Hubbard. Nor will I find out the circumstances of what led to this demo, I’m no journalist, just an observer and lover of my city…the entire city. But, Christman’s comment left me with the bad feeling that these politicians are supposed to be civil servants that serve us all. Not just their egos and personal agendas and little fiefdoms. This is a loss of soul, art and place. Again, Bill is from this neighborhood, but his work was not welcomed or wanted by the powers that be. Doesn’t fit the bill, doesn’t follow the money/agenda I suppose.
What gives you the right to take this from someone. This gorgeous work and passion. Even if it’s not your bag, it’s his. It was ours.
I am so not down with St. Louis right now. Imagine how Christman feels. Let’s get rid of these people. 28 - 14 = 14 less self-servants. Sorry, I’m feeling surly and saddened.
Sorry this happened to you, Bill. No citizen deserves this.
Who stole the soul? Appears the alderperson in this case.
Like the sign says: Scoot! Skeedaddle! The red arrow points thataway, and it ain’t here.
