On the bottom of a nondescript lamp post on a frequently traveled corner in Bay Ridge, lies a flat, small, multicolored pigeon made out of glass tiles, initialed with the letters “GB”. Around half a foot in length, a few inches in height, it’s almost proportionate to the familiar creatures that seem to litter themselves at nearly every turn in our city. It’s simple yet beautiful, cut with precision from nine individual pieces of vibrant glass, giving us the shape of this easily recognizable bird.
This uncomissioned piece is utterly captivating, and not only for the clear artistic skill required to create something of this nature. First, there is something endearing about capturing the essence of our ever present feathered friends. It’s high time we paid tribute to our fellow pigeons. New York City would not be the same without the estimable birds flapping their gloriously filthy wings high above us on rafters, or cooing jeeringly at one another down near our feet. Our birds are tough and charmingly arrogant for their delicate size – often stepping over our shoes to peck at pieces of fallen grain – and if you’ve ever seen two of them contesting over a dropped piece of meat, it becomes plainly clear how they perfectly capture the energy of this city and its people. This subtle artwork pays appropriate homage to the pigeon, and captures the delightful energy they inspire.
Second, and more interesting, is the latent placement of the artwork. The mosaic is again, placed at the very bottom of a lamp post, fittingly at a level where pigeons of flesh and blood would themselves be. Most of us unfortunately, tend not to be as conscious of our surroundings as we would like to claim. I myself have little doubt that I ignored the unassuming artwork in the early days of its placement, but, having been there for at the least one to two years, I had assumed that most who frequent the neighborhood, especially this particular street, had taken stock of this lovely tribute. I was rather surprised upon learning that even several individuals in this class, who live or attended school in Bay Ridge, and for the sake of this entry shall remain nameless, were unaware of its existence. Perhaps this is intentional. We never pay the humble
pigeon much mind, overtime growing accustomed to their presence. I do find that the obscurity of the piece adds another layer to it, both in depth, and in the simple pleasure of finding a secret, hidden object on an otherwise mundane morning
Upon some light research on the mosaic, I came to the wonderful discovery that the artist, anonymous and going
only by the initials mentioned above, has, and continues to place these pigeons all around the city, using only the Instagram page @gb_pigeon_nyc as his claim. While not much is known about the artist, perhaps his purpose with these pigeons is this: to add a dash of color on an otherwise bleak day, and put a smile on our face, and really, what better reason is there?
a horrifying child eating monster, and even in the design of the fantastical creatures from the other realm that are there to guide her. It’s no mistake that the faun or the fairies are not created to be much more beautiful and picturesque. Del Torro certainly possesses the necessary tools to make them so. They are meant to be to the viewer, slightly terrifying. After all Ophelia is coming from a world full of violence. A fantasy only has to be more beautiful than the counterpart of its reality to become inviting, and if that fantasy is too beautiful, it starts to become simply unbelievable. And when a fantasy is wholly unbelievable, it ceases to exist.
