And Mayor Frogbeiner stretched out his hand over the waters of the Maumee; and the frogs came up, and covered the land of Toledo. And, lo, in the summer of 2001, frogs once more ruled Frogtown.
No plague this time but a catchy arts marketing gimmick spawned by Mayor Carty Finkbeiner, “It's Reigning Frogs” has dropped dozens of huge and colorful critters around the downtown.
They squat and leap on businesslike corners, main drags, courtyards, and along the riverfront, catching passing motorists off-guard, delighting passersby, even, yes, luring suburbanites and visitors to the central city.
In a metropolitan area accustomed to less accessible, more abstract public art, the project is proving immediately popular with a diverse audience.
“Feedback has been fabulous,” says Lissa Guyton, executive director of the project. “Everyone's talking about them. Our e-mail is jammed. People are looking for frog souvenirs at the airport and turnpike rest stops.”
Since the first big hoppers were plopped onto square concrete pads on June 8, “coverage” has grown weekly in the area bounded by International Park, Jefferson Avenue, Michigan Street, and Jackson Boulevard. Frogs also are turning up at the Toledo Zoo, Toledo Express Airport, and the Erie Street Market.
It's no exaggeration to say the frogs exceed expectations. Given clever titles and finished professionally, they carry droll references to local, national, and international ideas, events, and people. If they are not public art at its finest, these bright, grinning reminders of Toledo's earthy roots are public art at its most fun.
Among the first creatures to hit the streets are these:
“The response from visitors already here has been very positive,” says Jim Donnelly, head of the Convention and Visitors Bureau at SeaGate Centre.
While, he says, “I don't think anybody has come specifically to see the frogs as a destination,” he does concur with Guyton that interest in the region is mounting for this project -- a combination fund-raiser for local charity and image-raiser for the region.
Lifted off less than six months ago, “It's Reigning Frogs” also is a best-case scenario of public-private collaboration, something seen all too often in these parts. Key players are representatives of the mayor's office, the Arts Commission of Greater Toledo, and Citifest.
“We've been meeting weekly since November,” says Bob Meeker, president of the ACGT board. With $22,500 in seed money from the city, the group, its three full-time employees - Guyton, artist David Eichenberg, and computer whiz Ana Ramirez - and dozens of volunteers have raised funds from local corporations and non0profits by generating sponsorships for the unique frogs. Sponsor levels are $2,800 to $10,000.
“This gives everyone a chance to be part of the project,” said Guyton. Sponsors range from the Lucas County Commissioners and the University of Toledo to banks, businesses, and private schools.
Roots of “Reigning Frogs” are shallow but fruitful. Inspired by a project in Zurich, Chicago officials in 1999 seeded the Windy City with outrageous cows. After garnering an estimated $200 million in tourist revenues, the city auctioned the cows for charity, raising $3.5 million. Since then, Toronto has turned its streets into a moose art gallery and Cincinnati ran decorative pigs through its streets, both profitable ventures. This summer, urban critters include bison in Salt Lake City, pigs in Seattle, wolves in Raleigh, N.C., and Labrador retrievers in Sun Valley, Idaho.
For Toledo planners the choice of animal was a no-brainer. Long before ambitious settlers carved T-Town out of the Black Swamp, frogs proliferated in the muck and mire. In its early years, the burgeoning urban center often wore the sobriquet, Frogtown, both as affectionate reminder of its boggy past and pejorative from competitors.
But until this summer the only permanent frog image was in the main vestibule of the Lucas County Courthouse, a charming mosaic frog emblem over which countless feet stepped on the way to official business.
Now, as real frogs ominously disappear from the world's wetlands, fiberglass replicas the size of mini-cars proliferate here. Toledo is the first city to diverge from mammals as an official animal, although Providence has gained notoriety with its Mr. Potato Head campaign. Cleveland, which hopes to launch a similar program next summer, has sought advice from the Reigning Frogs committee.
The first of these giant frogs were shaped by University of Toledo sculpture graduate Miguel Romero. He built clay models of a squatting creature 3 feet by 3 feet and a leaper 3 feet by 5 feet. Then, as is the case with most public art, a call for submissions by artists with ideas about how to create cunning frogs went out. Although the process typically takes at least twice as long, the Summer 2001 deadline squeezed the entire operation into a few months. The response was astonishing.
“We expected 400 replies,” says Guyton. “We got over 800 submissions.”
Some artists teamed up one frog; some submitted multiple ideas. Among well-known local artists and designers commissioned are Peggy Grant, Ellen Loeffler-Kalinoski, Mark Moffett, Terrence Lesniewicz, Mr. Atomic, Marc Folk, Miguel Romero, and Robert Garcia. Artists receive $1,000 for each finished frog, for which they supply most of the raw materials and all of the labor.
Plans ranged from finishing the basic frog form with paint, collage, mosaic, indoor-outdoor carpeting, coins, and beads to applying additional fiberglass or other elements to the basic form. Hundreds of frogs were cast in fiberglass and shipped to Frog headquarters at the old armory on Secor Road. There, artists daily work to finish their creations in time for installation. And some find other studio space.
Last week at the TARTA garage on Central Avenue, artist Lisa Barroso and a host of skilled mechanics worked down to the deadline to finish her frog design, Hop on Board, sponsored by the public transit agency.
“"I'm living every housewife's fantasy here," said Barroso, a registered nurse, painter, and sculptor, as she tapped the expertise of TARTA experts. “I feel like Queen for a Day.”
Working the fiberglass was difficult, she said. “It cuts you up. It dries real hard and real quickly.”
Her finished work was to go on display last week at the TARTA stop across from the mayor's office in Government Center. By Oct. 1, planners hope to have all the frogs installed. They will remain in place until the auction, set for Oct. 25 at SeaGate Centre.
“Do Not Touch” signs proliferate on each concrete pad, yet the public seems to find the frogs irresistible. Last week No. 58, Garden Frog, by Carol Cochrane and Diane Krajicek for Lourdes College, was removed for repairs to its tongue.
Because the frogs are on city property, their maintenance is handled by city employees and covered by insurance. Still, Barbara Herring, city law director, cites sections of both the city and state codes under witch anyone caught vandalizing the artworks will be subject to heavy fines and possible jail time.
But aside from last week's incident, Guyton said, “This has been a completely positive project. Already there are urban legends: the cabbie who took a Cleveland couple - in town for the Art Tatum Jazz Festival June16 - on an impromptu tour of the new frogs. The suburban mother and daughter who conduct an auto-patrol of the installations while logging driving practice time. Couples are making a summer project out of taking pictures of each other with each frog. And waiting at red lights while driving across the downtown has never been more amusing.
A colorful coded map available at the Citifest Office and on the Internet at www.itsreigningfrogs.com provides reliable directions and basic information about the frogs.
First Published July 1, 2001, 12:53 p.m.
