Show host Martha Woodroof spoke with Mark Cline, creator of sculptural oddities celebrated in Roadside America like Foamhenge and DinosaurLand. In the photos below, Mark is in the WMRA radio production room and is wearing his trademark trilby hat.
Cline spoke of his at-times shaky rise from youthful near-vagrancy (including sleeping on benches in Staunton's Gypsy Hill Park) to self-styled "entertainer who knows how to do art." Today, Cline's colored fiberglass outdoor sculptural creations dot the nation's roadside tourist attractions: DinosaurLand and such. Cline has turned away elite art galleries' offers since he feels going that would take him away from being seen by kids and motorists. He feels it is most important for his creations to make lots of people smile; "making people feel good is what its all about." But Cline confided he has done a few high-end jobs: sculptural props for a Broadway show (that's the real Broadway NYC, not the village of Broadway in the WMRA region) and a gigantic skull for an Alice Cooper concert.
More
Foamhenge: wiki googlemaps
DinosaurLand: streetview web
Mark Cline: wiki web
Addendum:
During our talk with Mark, he spoke of the many odd coincidences that have followed his life ---various bits of provident serendipity. When our talk was over and he was hastening to the parking lot (he had to drive to New Jersey to paint something) he found his car battery unresponsive. He asked around for jumper cables. I (Terry) offered mine and drove my car into position. When we got the Cline's car started and the artist drove away, a sudden gust blew which scooped up some of my car's interior clutter. I confide that I have a hobby of picking up unofficial souvenirs as I move through life. I have a piece of Monticello, rubble from the World Trade Center, and all manner of other odd bits and pieces. Around two years ago I visited Foamhenge and picked up from the ground one of the numerous crumbs which flake off as vandals pick at the landmark's surface. Later I put the foam chunk behind the driver's seat and promptly forgot about it. It was this piece of Foamhenge which the breeze lofted and blew to my feet --as the Foamhenge artist who feels odd coincidences follow him around drove away. Cue the "Twilight Zone" music.
The now-slightly-spooky foamchunk.
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