Erin+G

Erin Gottsacker Mrs. Vore AP Language 6 April 2013 Sculpt Me The entrance to Pyramid Hill Sculpture Park is a humbly marked, narrow, winding side street which branches abruptly from the main road. The street is so steep that it seems to simulate a roller coaster chugging up the first colossal mountain; my head is glued to the back of the seat. At the top of the hill, a visitor center materializes, along with a desolate parking lot, and a scattering of unique sculptures. This is, after all, Sculpture Park. After parking, Grandma, Mom, Megan, Catherine, and I climbed out of the squished car to meet the sights and sounds that characterize Ohio. The weather was windy enough to be cold, but sunny enough to be warm. The chirping of birds was met by the distant “Choo choo” of a train whistle and the constant deep-throated coughing of my younger sister. (Spring break was packaged with sickness this year at the Gottsacker household.) We stopped by the visitor center first, only to discover that the small building was as desolate as the parking lot; the only person visible within was a plastic manikin advertising a green vest. So, we next travelled to the museum, where, lucky for us, we came across real and important people. One such person was Harry Wilks, a wrinkled man who happens to be the owner of Pyramid Hill Sculpture Park. He invited me into his office and my initial thought was “Wow, this guy has money coming out of his ears!” If the framed photographs that lined the walls of him in various exotic locations and posing with Presidents Clinton and Obama weren’t enough of a giveaway, Mr. Wilkes informed me that not only did he own the land (two hundred and fifty acres) and sculptures (nearly sixty) of Pyramid Hill Sculpture Park, but that he was also planning to donate his house to the public. (Wow!) I asked Mr. Wilks how he acquired the many sculptures that decorate the park and he showed me two auctioning paddles with triple digit numbers and the names Sotheby’s and Christie’s. “Do you recognize those two names?” he asked me, seemingly confident that I was familiar with Sotheby’s and Christie’s. After searching my memory for any slight recognition of the two names I replied that no, in fact I have never heard of Sotheby’s or Christie’s. Disappointment flashed across Mr. Wilks’s face and he inquired if I //ever// watched the news and then promptly informed me that if I did I would know that Sotheby’s and Christie’s are two of the most famous auctioning houses in the world and that he has acquired all of his artifacts from these two places. To give an idea of the price range in such auction houses: Harry Wilkes bought a pair of earrings for $37,375. He was hoping however, for one of Kennedy’s rocking chairs, but had to stop bidding at $442,500. Harry Wilks may be rich, but he is also one of the most generous people I have ever encountered. After wondering if this was his personal collection he told me with a smile, “Well, it’s yours now.” After my interview with Mr. Wilks, I continued to explore the museum and I couldn’t believe what I found. Ancient sculptures from the B.C. era stocked the walls and grabbed my attention. Mummies and hieroglyphics and faces etched in stone beckoned me from their stationary positions. I was fascinated with what I was seeing. The closest I had ever seen to a golden mummy casket, for example, was one I had built with cardboard in the sixth grade. But this was the real thing - a polychrome wood anthropoid coffin inscribed for Ankh-Takelot (944-732 B.C.). After touring the museum, we stepped back outside into the chilly spring air and piled back into the car for the motor tour of the park (since 250 acres is much too far to walk). We promptly got lost, figured out we were going the wrong way on a one-way street, and had to turn around. During the next couple of hours, we proceeded to admire nearly sixty sculptures of magnificent size, color, and detail. Rather than drone on about all of these breathtaking sculptures however, I will minimize discussion only to my top picks: a red bench, a chicken, and a wooden fort. The red bench is my personal favorite because at one angle it looks like a normal, complete bench, but as the angle changes, it seemingly breaks in half. The bench, named “Paul” and made by engineer Martin Gantman, won the //Bench Competition 2000//. (Did you know bench competitions existed?) Gantman says of his bench, “A work may be created which commands the viewer to take note, not only of their environment, but also of the fact that they reside in a place of art.” In my eyes, the bench was an opportunity to have fun. The dancing chicken made me laugh out loud. Entitled “Midnight Serenade,” I could practically hear the bird’s squawking song as it danced around the platform. Finally, the big wooden fort brought back memories from my childhood of playing house in the woods. As I walked through the fort, I couldn’t help but imagine the fun I could have. My bubble slightly burst, however, at the sight of three other people who had already “moved in.” At long last our trip to Pyramid Hill Sculpture Park ended. I couldn’t help but feeling slightly sad at the thought of such a lovely journey coming to an end, but my physical anguish (I had just gotten my wisdom teeth pulled out) outweighed my despair. I fell asleep on the ride home.

Writer’s Memo I attempted to emulate Bill Bryson’s writing style by adding thick descriptions and specific experiences from my trip. I tried to include not only the sights I saw, but I also emphasized the people I met. I used a positive tone and tried to portray the fun I was having into the essay. At the same time, however, I included facts and details about specific sculptures and people. I used rhetorical questions, similes, imagery, and logos.