Richard’s and my employer in Costa Rica, Jane Mathes Kelton, was the daughter of Curtis Mathes, a highly successful manufacturer who was famous during the Sixties for producing high-end televisions housed in cabinets. He also owned—and then sold—some very valuable real estate in the Dallas–Ft. Worth area. Jane’s two brothers had died (her brother Curtis Mathes, Jr. died in 1983 during the infamous Air Canada Flight 797 that caught on fire in flight), and she was left with the bulk of the family fortune as well as some unsold real estate in Arlington, Texas, a city that lies between Dallas and Ft. Worth. She wanted to make her mark the way her father and brothers had done, so, right about the time that our gig in Costa Rica ended, she started a real estate development company in Arlington, intending to build a business park on some of her land. She offered both Richard and me employment: Richard a position with her development company and me a job as her personal shopper.

 

While Jane was creating her business park, she decided to incorporate an impressive focal point, which she referred to as a “signature piece.” Jane was an inveterate supporter of the arts and had beautiful taste that she enjoyed expressing in every aspect of her life. In addition, she wanted something to make her business park stand out and seem especially attractive to investors and businesses in a competitive climate. With these goals in mind, she commissioned sculptor Norm Hines of Pomona College in California to create this signature piece.

 

Jane’s Scottish ancestry had instilled in her a fascination with the ancient sites of the British Isles, so she asked Hines to create an installation that would refer to them. Hines conceived of a set of standing stones, the sum of which he named “Caelum Moor.” Each individual grouping of stones received names as well. “Caelum” is Latin for “sculptor’s tool,” while “Moor” evoked both the Scottish highlands and the rolling terrain the sculpture would occupy at the headwaters of Johnson Creek. Misinformation circulating around the Web states that the arrangement of the stones was intended to represent the constellation “Caelum,” which is visible from the Southern Hemisphere. Instead, the placing of the stones was determined by aesthetic considerations.

 

Hines made the decision to use Texas pink granite for the installation, the same stone that was used for the state capitol. He spent almost two years at the quarry, located in Marble Falls. Hines described his process and intentions in an e-mail to me: “The stone groups were all carved from a single wall of granite that was blasted free and cut by the diamond saws used for industrial granite. My work involved flame-cutting all the surfaces (to return them to a natural, weathered appearance), and adding special features—carvings, a hole through one stone, and the like—all designed to engage the public, to lead viewers to them to approach and touch the stones. This aspect of Caelum Moor, as well as the incorporation of water (one piece is a fountain), is not found in megalithic sites.”

 

All work on the stones was done in the quarry. Work on the site, which went on at the same time, involved grading, landscaping, lighting, etc.—all of which Hines designed and oversaw as well.

 

When the day came to deliver the stones, a convoy of trucks, each carrying one of the massive slabs, made a striking sight on I-20. Jane had made arrangements to ride with the truck driver of the lead truck, so that when they arrived at the site, she jumped from the cab, dramatic in a billowing cape, while local media had a field day.

 

Another piece of misinformation making the rounds on the Internet is that PBS made a documentary about the installation. In actuality, the film made was by Bob Bassett and Hines. Bassett now directs the School of Film and Television at Chapman University in Orange, California. The film was once shown on PBS but was produced by the Kelton Mathes Foundation.

 

Once finished, Caelum Moor enjoyed the distinction of being one of the largest—and most beautiful—sculptures in the Western Hemisphere. The attention paid to detail with respect to the stones, in their shape, placement, proportion, and inviting visual and tactile flourishes, especially for a work of this magnitude, represents a remarkable artistic achievement: a truly great work. During the months that Richard and I lived in Texas, we had the pleasure of spending some time with Norm, an athletic man in his late forties, whom I found to be reserved and thoughtful, serious and polite.

 

Richard and I didn’t end up finding the cultural climate of the Dallas–Ft. Worth area to be compatible, so we moved as soon as we had saved up enough money to live on for six months while we looked for work elsewhere. So we left before the real estate bust that claimed Kelton Mathes Development Corporation and the land left Jane’s hands, the sculpture donated to the city of Arlington. And that’s when things started to get weird.

 

 

 

Still, the pastors of the Christian churches that felt threatened by the stones succeeded in creating so much controversy for the city that the stones, instead of becoming part of a park as Jane had hoped they would, were dismantled in 1997 and stored at a water treatment plant. And there, incredibly, they languished for the next twelve years.

 

Fortunately, the story has a happy ending for Norm, for Jane’s legacy, and for art lovers. During the twelve years that the stones were in storage, many city officials and a number of art lovers in the area campaigned vigorously to have Caelum Moor recreated.

 

I received an e-mail from Norm Hines June 14, who happened upon my blog, cruising the Internet for mention of Caelum Moor, and this is what he told me: “As you may know Jane and I were very close at one time and although we had not been in contact for a few years I was very sad to hear of her passing. Jane was truly one of a kind. There was no one quite like her and I’ll always be grateful to have known her. Her legacy, and perhaps mine, Caelum Moor, is being reinstalled in Arlington almost as I write. The footing for the stones will be poured within the next couple of weeks and we expect to move the stones from the storage area to the new site near the new Cowboys stadium in mid-July. If Jane is looking down, I know she must be smiling.”

 

I suspect that he’s entirely correct.

 

A more recent update from the sculptor notes: “The sculpture is now installed in Richard Greene Linear Park on Randol Mill Road, between the Texas Rangers baseball park and the Dallas Cowboys stadium. The stones were installed in late June-early July, 2009, and landscaping is now under way. The sculpture will be re-dedicated in late October. The fact that it is now installed in a highly prominent location is a tribute to the Arlington’s Mayor, City Council, and Department of Parks and Recreation.”

 

If I receive any further information about the sculpture and its dedication, I’ll update this article; perhaps with some photos of them in their new location. For now, just the knowledge that this impressive and stunning work of art is available again for the public’s enjoyment is deeply satisfying for this particular art lover.