The Language of Our Time

Jake at the Gate, Sketch. Graphite, 5 x 7 in. Copyright 2008, Tania Nault. 

I have a confession to make: I rarely read the sculpture articles in Wildlife Art Magazine. I think I’ve thought of myself as a 2D artist for so long that I had artistic tunnel vision. Well, I just got a huge kick in the pants from the recent article “Kent Ullberg’s Omaha Project: His Magnum Opus is Complete” (Zuckernam, Laura. Wildlife Art Magazine, Nov/Dec 2007, 26 – 34.)  The article chronicles Ullberg’s work on the seven-year project the Spirit of Nebraska’s Wilderness: a series of sculptures that wind their way over six blocks of downtown Omaha. The series begins with pioneer wagon train spooking a herd of bison that, in turn, flushes a flock of Canadian geese, that flies over the streets to end up in the atrium of the First National Bank of Omaha (commissioners of the work).

So what drew my attention to the article? Well, the photos illustrate an amazingly dynamic work: at least one bison runs, and a few geese fly, through the corners of  buildings on their route to the bank.  Secondly, the sculptures form a narrative (and you know what a sucker I am for a story): it tells the story of pioneers entering the wilderness that once was, about the effect of humans on the environment, and about the passage of time. Third, the article illustrates that patrons of the arts still exist, they just tend to wear suits now, rather than robes. And finally, because Ullberg talks about his university fine arts experience.

He referred to a conversation he had with a very concerned, well-meaning instructor who asked him of the wildlife sculptures Ullberg produced for class, ”Why are you doing this? This is archaic; this is not the laguage of our time. And you’ll never make a living doing animal sculpture.” That question and those comments gave me two moments of pause. The first was a “hah-hah” moment knowing that Ullberg is one of the most lucrative sculptors of our time and makes a very fine living from his art. The second was an “ah-ha” moment: maybe the real appeal of wildlife art is because it’s not in the language of our time. I mean, people today are surrounded by a near constant stream of radio, television, mobile phone, text messages, billboard, newspaper, and Internet, all broadcasting loudly over each other in the language of our time. Maybe when a person looks at wildlife art the stream is interrupted and s/he has the chance to have a quiet, one-on-one conversation.