sand carS - Just visiting for the weekend
People settle in Provincetown for many reasons. For Jay Critchley, it starts with the sand. He always loved to collect things and he loved to cover them up. When the artist discovered slimy, discarded fish skins from filleted cod and flounder, he would plunge his hands into the deep tubs, gather them up and bring home buckets of the smelly remains. The scent would last for months.
But his sand pieces proved more accessible, and Critchley went on to cover cars and motels, fruits and vegetables, and even his own body with Cape Cod sand. He’s used it to fill watches and clocks; he sculpts with sand; he paints with it.
At age 33, self-described “born-again artist” Critchley launched the Sand Car Series in Provincetown’s MacMillan Wharf Parking Lot, using it as a gallery. In Just Visiting for the Weekend, he parked a sand-encrusted, 1956 Dodge Coronet 500 station wagon, which quickly attracted crowds and the anger of the chief of police and town manager. The car was declared “a threat to life and limb” and the police chief demanded its removal.
At a public meeting regarding Just Visiting for the Weekend, a Board of Selectmen member asked “Is it art or is it an automobile?” Critchley’s attorney, Roslyn Garfield, responded, “I’m not here to discuss the philosophy of art . . . it’s an automobile whether it’s purple, white or covered with sand . . . it’s parked legally and inspected.”
From 1981–1984, the year-round community and the visiting public welcomed a new summer configuration of the Sand Car Series: The Sand Family (with Ron and Nancy Reagan); A Fulfilling Summer (a sand-filled 1970 Chrysler sedan); and A Sand Blasted Summer (the sedan stripped of paint, rusting over the summer).
Like so many of Critchley’s future projects, this early work asked important questions. The Sand Car Series merged the transience of sand with seasonal communities. His inanimate cars sat fixed against the shifting sand dunes and eroding beaches—ghosts of American icons and collective dreams that were slipping away.
But his sand pieces proved more accessible, and Critchley went on to cover cars and motels, fruits and vegetables, and even his own body with Cape Cod sand. He’s used it to fill watches and clocks; he sculpts with sand; he paints with it.
At age 33, self-described “born-again artist” Critchley launched the Sand Car Series in Provincetown’s MacMillan Wharf Parking Lot, using it as a gallery. In Just Visiting for the Weekend, he parked a sand-encrusted, 1956 Dodge Coronet 500 station wagon, which quickly attracted crowds and the anger of the chief of police and town manager. The car was declared “a threat to life and limb” and the police chief demanded its removal.
At a public meeting regarding Just Visiting for the Weekend, a Board of Selectmen member asked “Is it art or is it an automobile?” Critchley’s attorney, Roslyn Garfield, responded, “I’m not here to discuss the philosophy of art . . . it’s an automobile whether it’s purple, white or covered with sand . . . it’s parked legally and inspected.”
From 1981–1984, the year-round community and the visiting public welcomed a new summer configuration of the Sand Car Series: The Sand Family (with Ron and Nancy Reagan); A Fulfilling Summer (a sand-filled 1970 Chrysler sedan); and A Sand Blasted Summer (the sedan stripped of paint, rusting over the summer).
Like so many of Critchley’s future projects, this early work asked important questions. The Sand Car Series merged the transience of sand with seasonal communities. His inanimate cars sat fixed against the shifting sand dunes and eroding beaches—ghosts of American icons and collective dreams that were slipping away.
