The Denver Horse Sculpture: Luis Jimenez’ Wild “Mustang”

It’s large. It’s blue. Very blue. And by night, it’s eyes glow red.

Those things seem to be what most folks first notice about Denver’s new horse sculpture, which has been controversially installed for all the world to see on the road leading from Denver’s International Airport into town.

I have yet to view the sculpture in life, but by all accounts, the horse has the potential of stamping Denver with a logo — much as the Saint Louis Arch became the logo of Saint Louis. “Welcome to Denver! Have we mentioned our horse?”

The American sculptor, Luis Jimenez, worked for 15 years to create the horse, which he simply named “Mustang” . Yet, he did not live to see it installed this year in Denver. In 2006, a large piece of Mustang slid from a hoist and pinned him against a steel beam, killing him. The sculpture was then finished by his son.

Besides Mustang, Jimenez left behind a significant legacy: “[His] vivid paint, unique treatment of surface, and method of exaggeration have influenced many young artists who are emerging in the galleries of Los Angeles and New York in the styles that are known as Lo-brow and Urban Art.”

One of his sculptures, Fiesta Jarabe, is installed in Colorado Springs, the town I live in, and I rather like the thing. It swirls with a love of life and courtship, and it almost makes even a celibate like me want to mate.

Mustang, however, has not been receiving the greatest reviews from the Denver public. Some folks have been downright unkind, albeit funny, in calling the sculpture, “The Demon Horse from Hell” (probably in reference to its glowing red eyes), and “The Mutant Mustang from Outer Space”. Some other folks have urged everyone to take a wait and see attitude — wait and see whether Mustang grows on them.

Jimenez’ art strikes me as very urban. It’s not the rhythms and spirit of nature that it captures, but the rhythms and spirit of community and city. Perhaps my opinion will change when I see Mustang in life, but from the photos, the work appears to capture the urban Southwest much more than it does the wild Southwest, despite the obvious symbolic link between a mustang and the wild.

I don’t know whether the citizens of Denver will ever come to enjoy the sculpture, but — again, from the photos — I feel the sculpture does capture something about the town that’s true of it. On the other hand, I really can’t imagine how I’ll take the glowing red eyes when I finally see the thing in life. The mere thought of those eyes makes me want to mentally hang some advertising on the sculpture, as if anything with such outlandish eyes must belong in front of a discount gas station. But there’s no substitute for seeing the thing, so I’ll withhold judgment.

Even without seeing the statue, though, I think Denver deserves credit for taking a risk. After all, they could have put up a nice, boring bronze cowboy or gold miner, and thus revealed themselves as much less than the gutsy city capable of erecting a 32 foot tall controversy.