I've tried to find something about this painted metal sculpture to like. It's terrorizing the southeast corner of Central Park. The only good thing I can say about it is that it's temporary.
Public art. Can't live with it or without it. More often bad than good. In this case, I have to admit that I've seen tourists smile while sitting on the turned up ends that form stools. On that level, it works. To me, it looks like a corrupted strand of mutant DNA. Ignoble.