Creating public art not for the faint-hearted

The artist Tyler Hodgins dangles from his latest public sculpture, "Glass Half Full," a whimsical piece that brings art to the playground. Or does it bring the playground to art? His sons Emmett (left) and Dexter take the art for a spin. Globe and Mail photograph by Chad Hipolito.

By Tom Hawthorn
Special to The Globe and Mail
August 22, 2011

VICTORIA

Two sculptures stand side by side, a pair of outsized stainless-steel representations of glasses of water. One glass is tall, the other stout. A blue straw extends from one, a red straw from the other.

Both glasses are half full.

Or half empty, depending on your perspective.

The sculptures can be spun, chimes inside ringing as they rotate.

A playful piece of public art was unveiled on the Dallas Road waterfront on Friday. A posse of children sat quietly through the reading of a poem by the city laureate and brief speeches by the mayor and the sculptor before being unleashed on the artwork.

They spun the glasses until they were dizzy, one boy straddling the red straw like a pirate seeking booty.

The sight delighted Tyler Hodgins, who remembers being fascinated as a boy by the illusion created when viewing a straw in a glass of water.

“As children we learn from looking,” he said at the unveiling, “that what you see isn’t always what is there.”

The 43-year-old Victoria sculptor is himself as tall and lean as a straw. His latest piece, titled “Glass Half Full,” is a large-scale interactive work likely to generate a lot of interest from locals and tourists alike. The lure of turning either of the glasses is irresistible, while each turn alters the view of the sculpture. At the same time, if you’re riding the piece, your view alters with the movement.

"Rings" by Tyler Hodgins

The sculpture is in Holland Point Park, at the foot of Government Street, next to the Harrison Yacht Pond, home to model boatbuilders, their miniature ships contrasted by the larger-than-life sculpture.

Creating public art in Victoria is not for the faint-hearted.

Many residents remain resistant to change to the streetscape of any kind. As well, one person’s art is another person’s travesty. The six-year-old aluminum, granite and stainless steel piece outside the hockey arena, titled “Pavilion, Rock and Shell,” is widely criticized (“monstrosity” is one of the kinder descriptions), while the year-old “Homecoming” on the Inner Harbour is seen by some as cloying and sentimental (“bland” is the kinder of the criticisms).

“You don’t want to try to please everyone,” Mr. Hodgins said. “You want to engage as many as possible.”

The sculptor has won two other public competitions in the capital district. Another stainless-steel piece, titled “Rings,” can be found at the intersection of two trails in Saanich, while his “Topography” sculpture can be found at the entrance to a local community centre. For that one, volunteers stepped into foam for the artist to later make concrete casts of their footprint.

Mr. Hodgins was incorporating into his art his day-to-day working life. While establishing himself as an artist two decades ago, he found work with his hands as a maker of orthotics. It is physical, repetitive work, but it pays the bills as he raised a family of three children. Eight years ago, he had an installation at The Art Gallery of Greater Victoria. “The Work Project” incorporated a video, photographs and the discarded wooden casts of feet that passed through the orthotics laboratory. These were placed on the gallery floor, causing visitors to walk across an uneven surface to better see the photographic images. You could say the piece was good for the art and sole.

He had a good model for balancing the financial demands of family with those of creating art. One of his childhood memories involves wrestling with his father, a Nanaimo high-school teacher, who was stretched out prone on the floor while trying to edit a typescript. The work was published as The Invention of the World, a magic-realist novel that helped launch the writing career of Jack Hodgins.

Hours after the sculpture was unveiled, the artist returned to the site to watch the public react to his work. He discovered the children had played so vigorously on the installation that some of the chimes were dislodged. It is an easy fix. He could not have been happier.

Taking a bite out of Nicholson's 'hold the chicken' legend

According to urban legend, the famous diner scene in Five Easy Pieces was filmed on Vancouver Island. Not so. This is the Denny's alongside Interstate 5 at Eugene, Ore. But a Vancouver Island diner does appear in the movie's final scene. See below.

By Tom Hawthorn
Special to The Globe and Mail
February 23, 2011

VICTORIA

They’re handing out the Oscars on Sunday, which means 73-year-old Jack Nicholson likely will be seen leering from behind the dark glasses he wears even when indoors.

He’s had a dozen nominations as an actor, more than any other male performer. One of the movies that established his career was Five Easy Pieces, much of which was filmed on Vancouver Island.

He plays Robert Eroica Dupea, a classically-trained pianist alienated from his bourgeois background who drops out to kick around the seedier side. The movie’s tagline: “He rode the fast lane on the road to nowhere.”

Released in 1970, the movie is best remembered for a scene in which his character butts up against a land of inexplicable rules and an unthinking obedience to same. (It is not a stretch to see the scene as a metaphor for how America became embroiled in Vietnam.)

Dupea and three companions sit at a table in a diner. He politely gives his order to the waitress: “I’d like a plain omelette. No potatoes. Tomatoes, instead. Cup of coffee and wheat toast.”

“No substitutions,” the waitress responds, pointing to a notice on the menu.

He then tries unsuccessfully to order a side of toast. The pair jostle, each getting more frustrated by the moment.

“Okay, I’ll make it as easy for you as I can,” Dupea says. “I’d like an omelette — plain — and a chicken salad sandwich on wheat toast. No mayonnaise, no butter, no lettuce. And a cup of coffee.”

“A No. 2. Chicken sal san,” the waitress repeats, exasperated, through clenched teeth. “Hold the butter, the lettuce, the mayonnaise. And a cup of coffee. Anything else?”

“Yeah. Now all you have to do is hold the chicken, bring me the toast, give me a cheque for the chicken salad sandwich and you haven’t broken any rules.”

“You want me to hold the chicken, huh?”

“I want you to hold it between your knees,” he says.

“You see that sign, sir. Yes, you’ll all have to leave. I’m not taking anymore of your smartness and sarcasm.”

“You see this sign,” he snarls, sweeping four glasses off the table with his right arm.

The scene helped earn Nicholson his first Oscar nod as best actor, though he lost to George C. Scott’s five-star performance in Patton.

To this day, some insist the famous scene was shot at a diner north of Duncan. The humourist Arthur Black once wrote a newspaper column about visiting the Red Rooster Cafe, a roadside joint on the Trans-Canada Highway between Duncan and Chemainus. He describes a waitress, more kindly than the one portrayed in the movie, gently breaking the bad news to him — the chicken-salad-sandwich scene was not filmed at the cafe.

Turns out Mr. Nicholson made his splash at a Denny’s off Interstate 5 near Eugene, Ore.

The latter half of the movie is set in the San Juan Islands, but keen eyes will spot several Vancouver Island locales, including the Mill Bay ferry; a bar in which a map of the Saanich peninsula can be seen on the wall; Beacon Hill Park, where Nicholson’s character delivers a powerful monologue to his mute and dying father; and, a waterfront mansion, at 8080 McPhail Road in Central Saanich, about which the Nicholson character says, “This is a fine house.” The mansion was demolished eight years ago.

The Red Rooster Cafe does appear in the movie’s final scene. Driving a 1963 Mercury Monterey, Mr. Nicholson pulls into a Gulf gas station alongside which the cafe’s neon rooster sign can clearly be seen. When his girlfriend goes for coffee, Nicholson’s character abandons his car, his jacket and his woman to hitch a northbound ride aboard a logging truck.

A few years ago, the restaurant was demolished and replaced, as has been the gas station, cinematic landmarks now relegated to film and memory.

Before the demolitions, Ross Crockford, the author of Victoria: The Unknown City, tried to interest Cowichan Valley newspapers in the story. None bit.

“Seems like I was the only person who had concern,” he said.

The gas station’s owner told him he had never even seen the movie.

The Red Rooster’s blue-plate special was an item billed as Maryland Chicken — a fried chicken breast served with bacon and fried banana, drenched in cream gravy, with a corn fritter on the side. Accept no substitution.

The closing scene of 1970's Five Easy Pieces takes place at the Red Rooster Cafe on the Trans-Canada Highway between Duncan and Chemainus. Check out the flickering neon sign. The cafe and the gas station have been demolished in recent years.

Spot the location

Here are some Vancouver Island scenes from Five Easy Pieces:

Jack Nicholson holds up traffic at the Mill Bay Ferry, a stand-in for a Washington State ferry. Note the CAA sticker on the car driven by Susan Anspach.

A 1912 mansion in Central Saanich served as the Dupea family manse, set on an unnamed island. This house, at 8080 McPhail Rd., was demolished in 2003.

Jack Nicholson grabs a drink. Spot the outline of the Saanich peninsula on the map on the rear wall.

Jack Nicholson's character, the alienated Bobby Dupea, has a heart-to-heart with his mute and dying father in Beacon Hill Park.

Beacon Hill Park stands in for one of the unnamed San Juan Islands in a powerful scene from Five Easy Pieces.

In the movie's final scene, Jack Nicholson drives a 1963 Mercury Monterey into a Gulf gas station next to the Red Rooster Cafe on the Trans-Canada Highway north of Duncan, B.C. The cafe and the gas station have been demolished in recent years.