Home » With ‘Late For The Interurban’ Kevin Pettelle Delivers

With ‘Late For The Interurban’ Kevin Pettelle Delivers

by Kirby Lindsay, posted 30 March 2012

 

Happy Birthday J.P.! The 'Late For The Interurban' statue by Kevin Pettelle Photo by K. Lindsay, Jan '12

On Sunday, April 1st, Julius Pierpont Patches will celebrate a birthday – the number of which is a debate better left for television historians.  Fremonsters, and Fremont visitors, can – and do – celebrate the well-beloved clown, better known as J.P. Patches.  The slightly larger-than-life bronze likeness of J.P., and his ‘girlfriend’ Gertrude, entitled ‘Late For The Interurban’ and created by Kevin Pettelle, gives us plenty of opportunities to celebrate…if only the silliness that inspired the work.

In Action-Oriented Color

Two clowns, cast in colored bronze, dance an eternal do-si-do at 837 N 34th Street, and Pettelle recently reflected on, “the struggle that I had with the color…”  The pigmented patina of the statues, which has faded from its original intensity, was never meant to be realistic.  “For the first 20 years of the show, it ran in black-and-white, then in gaudy colors,” Pettelle observed.

Chris Wedes, Kevin Pettelle and Bob Newman with the 'Late for the Interurban' statue Photo provided by Kevin Pettelle

Pettelle studied the show, and the characters, for this work – and made many of the details into interactive parts of the sculpture – button hooks, a hidden message, moveable dials on the ICU2TV, and a donation box that perches in seeming precariousness.  These touches honor another nearby artwork, as “a tilt of the hat to Rich,” Pettelle said about the ‘Late…’ sculpture, “it had to be real action-oriented.”  Pettelle refers to Rich Beyer, creator of the world-famous ‘People Waiting For the Interurban,’ who stand in stoic silence half-a-block west of J.P. & Gertrude.

A Childlike, And Passionate, Fan Base

While details of the sculpture acknowledge its many influences, the installation came as a well-deserved thank you to two entertainers that brought joy to a generation of area children.  While Carl Lovgren came up with the original idea – to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the first broadcast of the J.P. Patches Show – he took it to the Northwest Chapter of the National Academy of Television Arts & Sciences, and they talked Bryan Johnston into leading the rather exhausting effort.

Detail from 'Late For The Interurban' - J.P.'s hat Photo provided by Kevin Pettelle

Johnston’s first big task came in finding a location to install Seattle’s favorite clowns.  The Seattle Center, and certain sites in Downtown Seattle, seemed obvious – but met resistance.  Johnston has given credit to his wife for suggesting Fremont.  From the first suggestion, the Fremont Chamber of Commerce couldn’t move fast enough for its own satisfaction in securing the perfect spot – tomorrow was deemed too long to wait for the arrival of such an established icon.

‘Patches Pals,’ as fans call ourselves, can get a wee bit hyper, and a whole lot childlike, when it comes to J.P. and Gertrude.  A skilled bronze sculptor, Pettelle counts himself in the far-reaching ranks of Patches Pals, which may have cushioned him after he got the commission and had to meet the “insane deadline,” as he called it.

In Almost Obsessive Detail

Detail from 'Late For The Interurban' statue - Gertrude's hand grasping Bob Newman's Photo provided by Kevin Pettelle

Pettelle concludes his artist’s biography with, “…the human figure still holds the depth of my interest.  All my lessons of great sculpture can be found there.’  Several of his sculptures, such as ‘Simple Song’ (2006) and ‘The Top of the World’ (2004) both installed in Everett, capture realistically the images of people in motion.

For ‘Late…,’ Pettelle continued his fascination with anatomy.  He met with Chris Wedes and Bob Newman, who originated J.P. and Gertrude, respectively, and also used stand-in models to help him accurately capture the movements of the clowns in a do-si-do.  Look closely at ‘Gertrude’s’ hand to see the attention Pettelle gives to the play of tendons and muscles.

He showed an almost obsessive attention to other details as well.  “The hat represents the show,” Pettelle explained.  The real hat worn by J.P. had an odd assortment of pins and patches randomly stuck to it.  Pettelle recreated that look, using insignias, images and decorations – down to a rubber chicken and a historically accurate Channel 7 logo – from when the television show aired.

“The vest represents the sculpture,” Pettelle said.  The bronze J.P. wears a jacket and vest decorated with patches and buttons denoting organizations and friends that helped the sculpture come into being – as well as the empty button hooks that allow visitors to become part of the sculpture.

New pavers being engraved at 'Late For The Interurban' in October 2009. Photo by K. Lindsay

Pettelle also incorporated new technology, using some of the latest methods available to create this sculpture.  An advanced digital process helped Pettelle enlarge tiny details he wanted to capture accurately, then shrink them again.  “I was still working on buttons during the casting,” he has admitted.

“There was a lot of pressure,” Pettelle reported, “it was a challenge.”  Yet, he has also said, “the challenges I hit turned out to be assets,” and that, “everyone was a joy to work with.”

A Still Passionate Fan Base

The finished sculpture continually delights visitors, Patches Pals and the uninitiated alike.  The playfulness of the piece, and the messages of supporters installed in an expanding patchwork of pavers at its base, make it hard to resist.

In 2011, J.P. Patches announced his last official appearance – which drew huge crowds.  This swarm recreated the enthusiasm of the thousands that squeezed into Solstice Plaza on August 17, 2008 for the unveiling of ‘Late for the Interurban.’

Is this when interactive art takes a step too far? 'Late for the Interurban' on 19 Jan 12 Photo by K. Lindsay

In December 2011, Seattle City Councilmember Jean Godden suggested renaming the soon-to-be-remodeled North Seattle Transfer Station after J.P.  After all, the ‘J.P. Patches Show’ took place in the City Dump, so it stands to reason that the Transfer Station – located 0.3 miles away from the sculpture (according to Google Maps) – could become ‘The J.P. Patches City Dump.’  The Seattle Public Utilities balked.  A Seattle Times article, dated December 15, 2011, reported a statement by Bob Hennessey, “It’s not a dump.”

Yes, but it could be.  Never underestimate the relentlessness, and number, of Patches Pals.  For now, the City has agreed to name an education center at the new, improved Transfer Station for J.P. – a clown that made living in a dump a charming idea.

To learn more, about the sculpture and Pettelle, carefully cross the street from the do-si-do-ing pair to History House.  The museum of neighborhoods has built a faithful recreation of the J.P. Patches television show set – and Pettelle has provided a comprehensive binder of information, and photos, available for viewing on request.

During early planning for the sculpture, Seattle Post-Intelligencer columnist Susan Paynter wrote, “a license to be silly is still the compact that causes grown-up men and women to sidle up to Wedes when he’s out at a carpet store opening, a birthday event or auction.”  Thanks to Pettelle, and his faithful recreation of that silliness, men and women can continue to sidle up to J.P. and Gertrude for decades to come.


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©2012 Kirby Lindsay.  This column is protected by intellectual property laws, including U.S. copyright laws.  Reproduction, adaptation or distribution without permission is prohibited.

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