June 1995. Aluminum, granite, steel. Dimensions: 16’h × 14’w × 10’d.
Tether (Boy's Toys) grew from two formative experiences. As a child, I was fascinated by rural mailboxes mounted on lengths of welded chain that seemed to dance in my boyish imagination. Years later, during my first scuba dive, I looked upward to see boats drifting gently overhead, suspended from their anchor chains. That underwater view—where massive vessels appeared to float effortlessly—left a lasting impression.
At the time, my Jersey City studio overlooked the Hudson River and was filled with objects gathered from nearby marine salvage yards: anchors, heavy chain, buoys, pontoons, and cleats. Tether brings these memories together, recreating the sensation of looking upward through water at a vessel held in delicate balance. The subtitle, Boy's Toys, emerged during the sculpture's creation, referring both to its unmistakably phallic form and, with a touch of humor, to the oversized objects that have long captivated—and occasionally gotten the masculine imagination into trouble.
— John Van Alstine
June 1995. Aluminum, granite, steel. Dimensions: 16’h × 14’w × 10’d.
Tether (Boy's Toys) grew from two formative experiences. As a child, I was fascinated by rural mailboxes mounted on lengths of welded chain that seemed to dance in my boyish imagination. Years later, during my first scuba dive, I looked upward to see boats drifting gently overhead, suspended from their anchor chains. That underwater view—where massive vessels appeared to float effortlessly—left a lasting impression.
At the time, my Jersey City studio overlooked the Hudson River and was filled with objects gathered from nearby marine salvage yards: anchors, heavy chain, buoys, pontoons, and cleats. Tether brings these memories together, recreating the sensation of looking upward through water at a vessel held in delicate balance. The subtitle, Boy's Toys, emerged during the sculpture's creation, referring both to its unmistakably phallic form and, with a touch of humor, to the oversized objects that have long captivated—and occasionally gotten the masculine imagination into trouble.
— John Van Alstine
