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Even
if you blink, you won’t miss them. Bob Wade’s artwork sits saddled atop so much
of Texas that you would have a difficult time not
seeing it. From Austin to Houston
to San Antonio to Abilene
his over-sized, sometimes monstrous, oftentimes Titanic creations have become
so iconic, so much a part of our landscape that they frequently define the area
that they inhabit. From the Bigger-Tex boots outside a mall in San
Antonio to the New Orleans Saints helmet above the Shoal Creek saloon in Austin
to Dinosaur Bob craning a wanton glance (is he about to lick it or eat it?) at
a VW bug on top of the Grace museum in Abilene,
Wade’s work not only dominates the environment that it occupies but also throws
a giant hand in the face of our usual realities, forcing us to recalibrate our
perception of space and place.
Until recently, I had not realized how
involved I was in Wade’s artwork. In fact, most of us have had some contact with
it. His primary work involves painting over, in vibrant pastels, those photographs
of Texas’ past-those antiquated, sepia-tinted pictures
of cowboys and cowgirls, standing on horse’s backs, toting guns, waving to the
future from a now century-old rodeo ring. But, Wade’s vision has grown to gigantic
proportions over the years and now many of his works are, like Texas’
mystique, larger than life.
Having grown up in Dallas
in the early 1980’s, I was always fascinated by the giant frogs that used to dance
and twirl on top of the old Tango’s nightclub on lower Greenville avenue. When
they were taken down, in late 1983, my countenance fell with them-they had symbolized
a freedom of thought and imagination that I, at least, felt had always been lacking
in the collective Dallas consciousness.
When I discovered that they had been relocated to Carl’s Corner, that town/truck-stop/concert
hall/beer haven on I-35 north of Hillsboro,
I was relieved. Someone, I thought, was thinking right. In any event, for whatever
reasons (maybe the work reminded me of a past life, a former existence when things
were simpler and made more sense) I was always intrigued with the work and the
fact that it (they) had a new home was reassuring. Because I drive that God awful
stretch of road regularly, both then and now, I have always kept an eye on the
frog’s condition and placement. So, the other day, as my wife and I drove back
from visiting our son at Austin College in Sherman,
we decided to stop and have a look at the sculptures; at these ornaments of memory.
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Carl’s
frogs
Photo courtesy Bob Wade |
| Carl’s Corner is
being reconstructed. Blown out, blown apart, blown away and blown down, Carl’s
Corner is making a comeback. And, if you haven’t seen it recently, you’re in for
a treat. It looks as though it might actually, again, become the oasis that was
its original intent. There are more gas pumps out front than any of us could ever
need and the ‘Bio-Diesel’ tanks behind the storefront are gleaming clean and large.
When I walked in the other day I could hear the hum and clatter of hammering and
drilling, although, there was not a workman in sight. The interior appears finished.
Wood floors shine under new tables, railings and a slick bar. The bandstand already
has the ubiquitous Texas flag unfurled on the wall behind it. In fact, as I walked
in that morning, I heard the chatter of talk radio broadcast throughout the place.
I assumed that the workmen had their favorite radio station tuned in-a whistle
while you work sort of event. Only after walking in several yards did I notice
that the broadcast was coming from inside. Directly within the store is the home
of XM13, a new satellite radio station that proclaims itself as ‘Willie’s Place’.
The broadcast booth is positioned to overlook the whole of the restaurant and
bar and, of course, offers the chance for customers to watch the program. I motioned
through the thick glass at the DJ to see if taking his picture was permitted.
He continued to talk into the giant, padded microphone and gave me a thumbs up.
I took the picture but even now I’m really unsure why. It just seemed the thing
to do-I was the interloper looking for an excuse to be browsing where I probably
should not have been. As I left, I ran into a worker who told me that he thought
the place should be open for business this coming January 2009. |
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| Outside of Carl’s,
under a slim overbite of roof, to the side of the building and obscured from easy
view, three of the Tango frogs hold their frozen dance and swing. I was happier
than I should have been to be standing so close to these totems of my youth. I
took several photos and because it was so early in the morning and not a soul
was in sight, I edged in close to them and examined these relics. I’m glad I did.
Painted on the heel of one of the frogs was the direction: BobWade.com. I reasoned
that Bob Wade must have been the artist since there was no Internet when these
were created; it was obvious that the address was a recent addition. I wrote it
down. When we reached home I dialed BobWade.com into my computer. BobWade.com
showed me several images of artwork and had a contact spot on the side. I clicked
the window. The contact page displayed an e-address. I mailed the address asking
for frog information and included my phone number. Within the hour Bob Wade had
called my home and within 24 hours my wife and I were sitting in the Wade’s studio
talking frogs, iguanas, giant saxophones and car-sized football helmets. Sometimes,
things just come together. |
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Bob
Wade’s studio, a large, converted, two-car garage, looks as though a pack of teenaged
boys was allowed to hole up and hide out there for a few weeks. The walls are
pasted with photos of girls in bikinis, framed pictures of cowboys and cowgirls,
mysterious remnants of wire and wood cover the ground and cupboards, books of
all types are almost stacked on their shelves, tables hold all sorts of animalia
in all positions and varying stages of dismemberment, pictures of persons that
no one in the room knows the names of, easels supporting canvases of half-formed
images waiting patiently for attention. In short, it is the studio of an active
and enthusiastic artist. Luckily for us, there was a pathway through it
all and Mr. wade led us through the bric and the brac, pointing out those items
that he deemed necessary of attention. The first was the five-foot long, Altoid-tin
crocodile on the far wall.
As Mr. Wade spoke to us about his career, Mrs.
Wade (a.k.a Lisa) entered the studio to remind her husband that we had come for
frog information and not necessarily a life’s story. “He doesn’t need the
whole biography Hon’, just the frogs.” she reminded him. In all honesty, the story
to that point had been so enthralling that I had forgotten the singular intent
of my visit. “Well yeah,” Mr. Wade conceded and added, “Just laying the groundwork
for the frogs!”
Mr.
Wade began the frog’s saga by explaining how the owners of Tango’s nightclub had
contacted him asking for some sort of artwork for the roof of their new club in
Dallas. Mrs. Wade recalled how the owner
had mentioned wanting something like a “hand with a diamond ring on it or somethin’
like that.” However, the frog idea came about almost as an epiphany. Mr. Wade
recalled how, as he hung up the phone from that initial conversation, he turned
to look at a shelf in his studio and noticed a few ceramic frogs, collected over
the years, in varying stages of dance and play. He thought that since this was
Texas, putting a few “critters” atop the club would
probably go over pretty well. For a guy who’s made a living painting over photographs
of Texas’ past, this was a remarkably prescient idea.
In 1983 Tango’s nightclub opened to the public and the six, 10-foot tall, steel-framed,
urethane frogs began prancing and spinning to a different beat in full sight of
any and everyone in the area. When Wade mentioned that the frogs had been mobile,
dancing on mechanized turrets, I told him that I didn’t remember that they moved.
He offered that “You were probably busy chasing women and being drunk-unlike me!”
Unfortunately, the frogs also spun and danced right in front of the neighbors
and that neighborhood in Dallas is slightly
more puritan than one might think. It wasn’t long before a lawsuit was filed in
Dallas county court to remove the frogs from the roof of the club. The issue was
whether the frogs were a legitimate work of art or simply a sign advertising the
club. As Wade stated, “Dallas had a
brand new sign ordinance committee, [This “committee” was actually labeled the
Dallas Sign Control Board of Adjustments. Sort of severe. Showing up to one of
these meetings in a pair of flip-flops would be grounds for removal I should think.]
they (the committee) said the whole place was out of control- and it probably
was. Drunks everywhere, music blasting and the frogs kinda’ got pulled into that.”
To the neighborhood (for the record, I should state that I was one of the
neighbors and, I loved the sculptures) the frogs symbolized the decadence of the
nightclub scene. Their presence flew in the face of what Wade termed Dallas’
“cult of good taste”. The neighborhood cared not too much for the party atmosphere
that materialized in their front yards and driveways every Friday and Saturday
night. (A similar war rages today on lower Congress avenue in Austin.)
In the end, the frogs had to go. Not because of the lawsuit, which Wade
was eager to point out that he had won, but rather because the club closed. Soon
afterwards the frogs began their trek to Carl’s Corner after a grand send off
party. Initially, all six frogs took the stage on top of Carl’s gas pump awning.
However, three were bought and went on a traveling show across Oklahoma and Texas.
Finally, these same three leapt to Houston
where they now occupy the roof of a Chuy’s restaurant in The
Woodlands. The other three still await their placement on the new Carl’s Corner.
They have been repainted, repaired and seem quite ready to reoccupy their former
position on the roof. |
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Lone
Star Cafe Iguana
Photo courtesy Bob Wade |
| Several of Wade’s
pieces are more mobile than you would think objects of such gigantic proportions
should be. In addition to the frog’s journeys, the 40-foot long, 12-foot high
iguana that once stood famously on the roof of the Lone Star Cafe in New York
City now rests idly in a Fort Worth
warehouse. There is a giant fish in the water outside the Hula Hut restaurant
in Austin that was initially on the
roof of a Dallas hamburger spot. And
then, not as mobile but certainly as subject to change as the rest of these works,
the framed, big-rig truck that has advertised Carl’s Corner to every south bound
motorist on I-35 over the years was built, of course, by Bob Wade. |
Carl's Corner's Big-Rig “Billboard”
Photo courtesy Bob Wade
See Signs |
Blue Saxophone
Photo courtesy Bob Wade |
These days though,
the frogs are not what occupy Mr. Wade’s professional ambitions. Somewhere in
Houston, outside of a defunct bar called
Billy Blue’s, a towering, two-story saxophone made of found objects (one piece
of which is an upside down VW bug shell-a favorite tool of Wade’s) waits patiently
for a return trip to Austin. It is Wade’s
hope and dream (he calls it the final stage of his “legacy”) that this last piece
of extravagance can find its way to a spot near Waller Creek in Austin.
The city is renovating the entire area and has agreed to place the sculpture in
a predetermined space. All that is needed is someone to help get it there. As
Wade stated, “If only I could get this done right here-I could almost say ‘OK.
Now I’m happy.”
So, go ahead and blink. Rub your eyes, refocus and look
again. Wade’s work will still be there. You can’t miss it and, more appropriately,
you shouldn’t.
Copyright
Byron Browne
December 5, 2008
Very special thanks to Lisa and Bob Wade for their time,
patience, photographs, hospitality and, of course, those wondrous works of art.
More
Stories by Byron Browne
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