This is the first exhibit in the St. Louis Incidental Art Gallery — the Roger Place Wing.

In Q1 2023 I made up museum placards for various unspectacular things you can see when walking on Roger Place between Arsenal and Gravois in St. Louis, Missouri.

Two years later one of them is still up. Whoever lives there, I love you.

Someday there will be three more in different nearby wings (streets).

Format:

Artists’ Name (artists’ birth year)

Title of Piece

Medium

Description

4000 Arsenal St. (b. 1911)

A Cursive Curbside Curse Curated by a Curt Curmudgeon (fuck)

Etching in concrete

When is a cuss not a cuss? A swear not a swear? Can ‘foul language’ be tempered with beauty? These are the questions the artist known as 4000 Arsenal asks in this simple, provocative work. It’s the flowing cursive lettering that lends a curt class to this classic curse, forcing us to meditate on the often-porous boundaries between fine and coarse, right and wrong, good and bad, love and hate, oil and vinegar, and, inevitably, life and death.

3972 Juniata St. (b. 1912)

“E” is For Ever

Etching in concrete

It’s unknown when or why the artist slashed this letter into wet cement. Was it the start of a meaningful word, warning, slogan, or name? Why is it capitalized? Is it an E at all? Regardless of origin or perspective, the mystery of this lone E compels viewers and passersby to consider at what point ‘being alone’ becomes ‘feeling lonely’—an especially charged question when it’s not even clear who or what you are, or why you’re here.

3973 Connecticut St. (b. 1922)

A Sliver of Silver

Spray paint on brick

Does the abstract vagueness of this piece represent the artist’s crushing ennui? Or is the dull shine of its silvery patina a proxy for the richness of their inner self? Perhaps it’s the below-eye-level placement that is more important on this otherwise ordinary neighborhood gate pillar. Whatever the circumstance, whether celebration or protest, the result is a deft transformation of the mundane into the mystifying.

4001 Connecticut St. (b. 1904)

What Wood You Have Done?

Wood (natural and processed)

The tree was there first, then came the fence. While kin, they couldn’t be more different. The tree—natural, alive, growing. The fence—man-made, dead, confining. When they met the tree stood its ground, forcing the fence builder to bend (or, more accurately, cut) to its will. Alas, time had the last laugh: the lumber outlived the leaves. Sure, both creations are left standing—but each is now lesser than before.

4000 Connecticut St. (b. 1922)

Defensive Perimeter

Stone and concrete

While this provocative piece is more notional than functional, the brilliant savagery of its visual impact should be enough to deter would-be invaders. Clearly this is the work of an artist used to mixing confidence with fear, and it all adds up to a singular statement: “What is here is mine and I would prefer that you please keep out although I will not stoop to true violence so this symbolic wall must suffice.” Either that or, “I ❤️ ROCKS”.

3360 Roger Pl. (b. unknown)

A Modest Bulge

Wood, wire, and soil

So much great art is incomprehensible. Often, this is the point and the very source of its greatness: to challenge ingrained thinking, though we may never truly connect with the same fleeting or deep-rooted enchantment that inspired the artist. Regardless, “A Modest Bulge” transcends both reason and medium, cleverly forcing our minds into the cramped existential void that resides within the bulge itself. What you do there is up to you.

3955 Winnebago St. (b. 1914)

Terminus

Concrete installation

It’s one thing to start and another to finish. But what does it mean when something that looks unfinished, is, in fact, complete? Or the opposite? Though “Terminus” appears to be an homage to the curious dead-end sidewalk at nearby Oak Hill and Fairview, it is instead a fully realized and self-contained salute to Federico Fellini’s cosmic wisdom: “There is no end. There is no beginning. There is only the infinite passion of life.”

3958 Miami St. (b. 1925)

All Now with Wings (The Eternal Service)

Mixed media, found objects

This barely arranged medley of Christian superheroes has watched over the southern reach of Roger Place for decades, embodying the eons-old tension between transcendence and existence. It forces use to ask, what’s more real? The inner faith and fear some use to promise themselves eternal salvation, or the temporary extrinsic experiences we enjoy and suffer in this life? Ponder that as you consider why, out of 27 statues, 25 of them are White.

4000 Tholozan Ave. (b. 1925)

Splat Feet

Markings in concrete

One doesn’t merely sense the angst and energy in this rough-around-the-edges piece, one can feel it. The ragged landscape of “Splat Feet” is a real-world metaphor for the difficult road we all travel and the burdens we must carry. Humans, by nature, are a resilient species. We push ahead. We explore. Indeed, often we simply tear through life, one destructive step at a time toward our different destinies.

4000 Winnebago St. (b. 1914)

Flat Feet

Concrete and spray paint

Perhaps “Flat Feet” is a restrained response to “Splat Feet”, the explosive chaos of which can be seen a block north. If one is indeed a response to the other… who provoked whom? The dichotomy—this calm and the other wild, though footprints just the same—works to suggest not just the timeless conflict between extroverts and introverts, but the congruities as well. After all, both pieces are walking in the same direction, albeit in their own fashion.