by Susan Stamberg
German sculptor Katharina Fritsch has a thing for roosters. She’s responsible for the giant blue one perched atop the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C., overlooking Constitution Avenue. “It brings joy, you know, to the capital,” she says.
Why roosters? They intrigue her; she finds them interesting and sociable. “They have a language — they have 30 sounds for food,” she explains.
In February, one of Fritsch’s roosters flew to the Matthew Marks Gallery in Los Angeles to preside at her first one-person show there. Her large, surprising and funny sculptures were supposed to be on public view right now, but the gallery is closed because of the coronavirus. So here’s a virtual visit to the show, which I was lucky to see in person before the city shut its doors.
The 13-foot, bright blue rooster stands on its own circular, lime green pedestal. Fritsch loves using color — ultramarine blue, red, black. “Adding the color gives a very emotional aspect,” she explains. “People are always attracted by color. Some art historians would say that it’s childish or something like that. I don’t think so.”
The rooster is made of polyester and steel and sprayed with blue acrylic paint — matte, no shine. And facing it — dwarfed (maybe roostered) by it — stand two life-size sculpted men. They wear tight pants, sturdy shoes and long jackets, stylish enough for a big city. The men don’t seem to care about the big rooster right in front of them.