 Cover Story: Rising above the brush
At the Benini
Sculpture Ranch near Johnson City, art finds an unlikely (and expansive)
home
By
Shermakaye Bass | Photos by Larry Kolvoord
July 1, 2004
From his
aerie atop Rattlesnake Mountain, Lyndon Baines Johnson looked out over his
vast deer-hunting ranch west of Johnson City, scouring the terrain, perhaps,
with his binoculars or rousing himself at dawn to track the movements of an
elusive trophy buck.
That was more than 30 years ago. Were the former president still alive and
scanning the landscape, his lenses would light on an entirely different
species of animal -- stock that doesn't move or graze but that stirs the
psyche in an utterly unsimilar way.
 Sculpture. Big steel and bronze sculptures. Bold wood and stone pieces.
Found-object odes to the land, meditative installations on wind-tousled
hilltops, primordial groupings in tall-grass meadows.
In all likelihood, if LBJ were alive today, he'd be surprised to find the
Benini Foundation and Sculpture Ranch, 140 acres situated on part of his old
cedar-grizzled deer camp 7 miles west of Johnson City. But he'd probably
find a kindred spirit in the colorful character who envisioned this visual
playground back in 1999 -- an Italian-born painter, Benini, who goes by his
last name only, whose gray beard and wild hair conjure images of Old
Testament prophets and who created a sculpture ranch in the middle of what's
historically been cattle country.
'Montezuma,' a black granite and bronze sculpture, is one of the first
pieces visitors see at the Benini Sculpture Ranch.
Its unlikely location begs the question: Why plant a sculpture ranch on the
rolling, semi-arid hills near Johnson City?
"It reminded me of the hills of northern Italy," says Benini, who is from
Imola, near Bologna.
Granted, deer and an occasional stray calf still tramp through the mesquite
scrub, but scattered across hills and fields are 22 mid- to large-scale
works by artists from China, Germany, Iceland, Italy, Louisiana, Arkansas,
Texas and California -- pieces they install at their own expense, in a place
far removed from the well-heeled hordes of the arte mondi.
It's not like the severe, minimalist Chinati Foundation in Marfa. It's not
New York's Storm King Arts Center, the renowned 500-acre spread with A-list
outdoor installations. It's not exactly a commercial venture, and it's
definitely not an academic residency.
In fact, except among a growing number of artists, the Benini Sculpture
Ranch, which operates under a by-invitation or by-selection "jury" process,
is little known outside the confines of Blanco County.
But therein, contributing artists say, lies its appeal. Placing work there
is about art for art's sake, about pure creative motives, unfettered by
commercial pressures.
"The land evokes a feeling of power and spirituality, and I wanted to
contribute to that," says Marshall Cunningham, a sculptor and surgeon from
Shreveport with five installations at the ranch. "When Benini told me what
he wanted to do here, I said, I'm in."
Cunningham joins guest artists such as Johann Eyfells, an Icelandic
octogenarian whose work resides in museums around the world and was featured
in the 45th Venice Biennale. He loved the area so much that he ultimately
bought a ranch nearby.
Cunningham, who met Benini and his less gregarious wife, Lorraine, when the
couple lived in Hot Springs, Ark. -- where they resided for 12 years and
helped found the Hot Springs Documentary Film Festival in 1992 -- said he
wanted to be in on the ground floor of "something so powerful."
'An artistic endeavor'
 To date, nine artists have planted sculptures in the rugged hillsides and
pastures. And over the coming months, five more will create site-specific
pieces or ship already completed sculpture to the ranch. One artist is from
Shanghai; others come from Washington state, Germany, Italy and, closer to
home, Fredericksburg.
"It's a big effort to do this, because it's a cooperative movement,"
Cunningham says, savoring his understatement. "You're not paid to bring
sculpture and put something down. This isn't a commercial gallery. It's an
endeavor that probably, in its truest sense, is an artistic endeavor."
Like some artists whose works already dot the Benini countryside, Cunningham
made sketches inspired by specific sites while visiting the ranch but
fabricated the sculpture in his own studio. (In fact, there is not an
on-site studio for artists to work on large sculpture.)
Johann
Eyfells' 'Triangular Linguisticities' is created from aluminum.
 Some of Cunningham's installations are abstract, such as "The Gathering," a
grouping of eight 10- to 16-foot-tall weathered steel structures that evoke
a Calder-meets-Stonehenge vibe. Some are more whimsical, such as "The Hand,"
a tall slender jointed hand made of steel that loosely refers to
Cunningham's work as a plastic surgeon specializing in diabetic limb
reconstruction.
No doubt, sculpture is the primary lure for many guests. But since the
Beninis converted an old hangar-style structure into a stunning
14,000-square-foot gallery/studio in 2000, a number of groups and individual
artists have come to browse Benini's mini-retrospective, which includes his
impressive acrylic-on-aluminum wall constructions -- painted orbs and
undulating ribbons that masterfully create the illusion of three dimensions
-- as well as his series of O'Keeffeian rose paintings, the last of which
was purchased by Virginia Kelley as a Christmas gift for her son, President
Clinton, in 1993. That painting will hang in the Clinton Presidential
Library, which opens in November in Little Rock.
Top, 'The Gathering,' a grouping of sculptures by Marshall Cunningham, is
able to spread out on the ranch's land. Bottom, Benini's 'Ubiquitus' appears
to dwarf Cunningham's 'Destiny's Marker,' but they're about the same height.
 Other works in the studio include small-scale sculpture by Eyfells,
Cunningham, Benini, Giuseppe Calonaci from Poggibonsi and Milan-based Valter
Mocenni, as well as a collection of Old Masters' style oils by Renzo
Galardini, who hails from Pisa and whose work can be seen in this country
only at the Benini ranch.
'I want a house, I want a hill'
As word spread about the sculpture ranch and the Beninis' European-style
hospitality, groups have driven in from Houston's Glassel School of Art,
McMurray University in Abilene, Ambleside school in Fredericksburg, as well
as high schools in Fredericksburg, Blanco, Johnson City and other
surrounding burgs.
But the Beninis didn't quite plan any of this. They weren't even familiar
with the region until they traveled here in 1999. It was all kismet, Benini
says -- something he wholeheartedly embraces.
At the time, the couple were living in Hot Springs, where for more than a
decade they'd helped nurture an arts community by converting a historic
building into an arts gallery and encouraging other locals to follow suit.
"We do things because they're happening, because that's the right thing to
do at the time," says the 63-year-old Benini, who says he has always moved
"instinctively," with no master plan or major agenda. He recalls traveling
to San Antonio on a trip he and Lorraine purchased at a hospice benefit in
Hot Springs, then driving into the Hill Country and falling in love with the
land.
At the end of their five-day sojourn in the Italian-style landscape, Benini
stopped at a small real estate office in Blanco and inquired about some
land. "I said, 'I want a house, I want a hill.' The realtor said, 'I've got
it.' And he showed me what was one of the most expensive places out there."
Within two or three weeks, the couple bought the 140-acre spread with
profits made from Benini's not-inexpensive paintings, packed their
substantial bags and bid adieu to Hot Springs.
Though at the time the Beninis had several good sculptor friends and a vague
notion of inviting them to display their works at the ranch, the painter,
who has lived in 20 countries since he left Italy at age 17, merely wanted a
quiet place to work and live and entertain friends (Bill Clinton's
stepfather, Dick Kelley, came out last year, and J. David Bamberger, whose
family runs the revered 5,500-acre Selah nature conservation "next door,"
joined a group for dinner).
Organically, the ranch evolved into a "foundation" -- not a nonprofit as the
word implies in the United States, but an Italian-style "fondazione."
"In Europe, whenever an artist would get recognition, he would set up a
place where other people can start their career or study the art of the
artist as well as study the works of other artists he has collected there,"
Benini says. "I transferred that concept to here."
Indeed, the outfit is about as old-world laissez-faire as it gets. Because
the couple didn't start with a fully fleshed-out mission, the concept has
unfolded over time. Typically, the Beninis will host an artist every three
or four months, and typically that artist will stay for a few days -- either
in the guest "bunkhouse" or at sleeping quarters off of the gallery --
making sketches, surveying sites and having lunch at Ronnie's barbecue in
Johnson City, where the Beninis have been embraced by an at-first slightly
skeptical populace.
"First blush was, 'They won't last long,' " says Bamberger, whose Selah
conservation draws more than 6,000 visitors and lecturers each year and has
been covered by The New Yorker, CNN, CBS's Dan Rather and others. A resident
of Blanco County for the past 30-odd years, Bamberger knows the local
mind-set and chuckles when he thinks of the Benini migration.
"Second thought (from local perspective) was, 'They're going to draw all
kinds of hippies and undesirables, and so on.' But people learn that you
don't judge a book by its cover. And I think from the standpoint of the
community, they're very much respected and enjoyed. They are an asset to
Blanco County. Frankly, I love 'em."
Be your own tour guide
Part of the ease with which the Beninis integrated -- she's a photographer
with long wavy hair and an inate gentility; he's the classic charming,
gesticulating Italian artist, who wears all white in summer and all black in
winter -- is due to their commitment to living in the moment.
 The couple's approach to visitors is equally Zen-like, and only just now are
they finalizing a self-guided tour map, though they have a very good
brochure detailing each site, its location and the materials used. Early
June floods delayed their plans to resurface the rugged ranch roads that
crisscross the property, but recently an intrepid driver in a junky old
Japanese car had no trouble negotiating the terrain. And as soon as the
right opportunity arises, the Beninis are purchasing golf carts to make
open-air sculpture touring more immediate and intimate.
Loren Impson's 'Aspiration' gives a new meaning to the phrase 'ranch hand.'
You can get a close look at the sculpture at the Benini facility.
"That could happen next week," Benini says -- but also implies it could be
next month. "I do things very suddenly!"
Though there is no admission for visitors and no charge for artists who
apply to exhibit there, the Beninis have criteria: The piece should be
designed to withstand high winds and Texas-style deluges; a height of at
least 12 feet is suggested; it should follow the truth-to-materials dictate
(if it's steel, don't paint it to look like bronze); and it must be approved
by a panel of artist/peers that includes Benini, Lorraine, Eyfells and
Cunningham. Also, the sculptor is asked to select the site and must agree to
leave his or her work on-site for a minimum of two years.
Everything else about the ranch and its inhabitants, both animate and
inanimate -- is easy come, easy go. Benini doesn't say how much they've
spent on putting in roads, tearing down old structures or renovating
existing ones (the once-basic shell that is now their studio/gallery is
insulated on the outside with a sand-toned urethane spray foam and fronted
by a lovely Austin-stone façade inset with stained glass and a lion's-head
fountain). But a safe guess is hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Benini will say that "all of this I bought with my paintbrush. It's all paid
for. My work is expensive, and my collectors know that -- we never talk
money. But you don't have to be rich to follow your dreams."
Culture in the country
People who knew the Beninis in Hot Springs and know their influence on the
arts community there say the couple are doing their best to likewise stoke
creative fires and spark cultural interest in the mesquite- and cedar-clad
hills outside Johnson City. In fact, their move inspired Eyfells, who is
shipping 170 tons of sculpture from all over the world to his new ranch
about 10 miles from the Benini spread. And it prompted Cunningham to buy a
ranch outside Fredericksburg, where he lives with his family and commutes to
Louisiana State University Medical Center in Shreveport, La., where he heads
the plastic surgery department.
 "I'd say that they are really contributing to the cultural aspects of Blanco
County," says Bamberger. "We're a small rural county. We're never going to
have a symphony orchestra or a major museum, but this couple has come in and
opened up their studio and their ranch and brought people in from all over
the world. I've met more interesting people at their house for dinner than I
do sometimes during our 6,000 visitations each year (at Selah)."
Benini displays some of his own artwork at a 14,000-square-foot
studio/gallery. The artist says he was drawn to the Hill Country because 'it
reminded me of the hills of northern Italy.'
As Bamberger knows through his experience in promoting conservation and
ecological issues at Selah (which he affectionately calls his Walden),
exposing people -- particularly kids -- to alternative ways of thinking is
"a way to open doors," he says. "The exposure to art and culture helps
create an appreciation for things yet unseen and unknown."
Cubby Hudler, president of the Johnson City Bank, who has lived in Blanco
County for over 30 years, says the Beninis and the artists they bring in are
now an integral part of the community, as natural to the region as scrubby
oaks and low-water bridges.
"Times are changing. When I first came here in '71, if someone drove up in a
big Cadillac and had a suit on, we walked out the back door," he says. "We
were afraid of those high rollers. But now we've gotten used to 'em."
The Benini Foundation
and Sculpture Ranch is at 377 Shiloh Road, about seven miles west of
Johnson City, off U.S. 290. For directions and more detailed information,
see
www.sculptureranch.com, or call (830) 868-2247 or (830) 868-5244. Hours
of operation are by appointment.
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