Although Oklahoma City is the state’s premier hub for sports, nightlife, and government, Tulsa holds down the top spot when it comes to arts, music, and constructing pretty, tree-lined roads that curve up, down, and around the occasional picturesque hill.
Knowing that, you’d think Tulsa would have totally nailed a new public art project that called for a giant sculpture to be placed at the top of Cry Baby Hill – a local landmark along Rt. 66 and apparently a grueling part of the city’s annual “Tulsa Tough” bike race.
Instead, they got this:
That’s the rendering for “Cry Baby Cry” – a 21-foot-tall statue of a “crying baby in boots” that will be “installed ahead of the Route 66 centennial in 2026.”
Not surprisingly, the Tulsa community has mocked and ridiculed the selection. I can see why.
Tulsans prefer their gigantic sculptures of tall, muscular men to be stoic and homoerotic, like the Golden Driller. They don’t want a cartoony version of Kip's Big Boy looking like he's having gastrointestinal issues.
Seriously, how many Big Boy burgers did that baby eat to cause that meltdown?!
“Patrick! Oklahoma doesn’t even have a Kip’s Big Boy, so how do you know if the food can cause distress? And it kind of looks like he’s dealing with blue balls, not the squirts.”
Fair point. That might explain why an online petition called “Stop the Erection of the Cry Baby Hill Sculpture” already has over 2,000 signatures.
I guess it’s time to ask that classic Cialis commercial question – how do doctors stop a four-hour erection, and in this case, what do they do when it’s etched into a 21-foot statue?
Do they inject blood thinners, or just tell people to think about football?
Naturally, the Tulsa media is having a field day with the controversy.
Fox 23 talked with Lauren Branham, the president of a local neighborhood association that will have to drive by the statue every day. She called the proposed statue “tacky” and “embarrassing,” and claims the residents don’t want it:
Although the statue is being roundly criticized, Ken Busby – the executive director and CEO of the Route 66 Alliance, the group behind this monstrosity – defended both it and the New Hampshire artist who made it.
He basically argued that all public art can be controversial, but someday in the far distant future, a tasteless civilization may actually like it:
"Art and controversy can go hand in hand.
When Tulsa created the '1% for Public Art' ordinance in 1969 — one of the first cities in the nation to do so — the first piece of public art acquired, Roy Gussow’s 'Amity,' was very controversial. It’s an abstract stainless-steel sculpture that today sits at the south entrance of the Cox Business Convention Center...
However, everyone got past the controversy, and today, 55 years after it was installed, it’s recognized as one of our most important pieces of public art in the city of Tulsa’s art collection."
Listen, Ken isn’t wrong.
As the son of a local artist who has erected a wide variety of sculptures across the state, I know firsthand how subjective art can be, and how annoying it is to have your dad in the backyard hammering away at a 20-foot sheet of copper at 7:30 in the morning.
That being said, they should really rethink this concept.
Tulsans deserve something better than a big statue reminding them of a chain restaurant mascot in distress.
They should put something there that's more symbolic of the city and community, or better yet, avoid the controversy and leave the spot empty.
Once again, Tulsa is known for its hills.
Stay with The Lost Ogle. We’ll keep you advised.
