If you think that spending a day in Denver at this time of year means holiday shopping at Cherry Creek, Park Meadows, or the 16th St. Mall, I completely understand. Let me present
you with a creative – and much cheaper— alternative.

Whether Denver is your oft-neglected hometown, or you’re coming in from elsewhere for a day trip or a weekend, skip the shopping for one weekend, and give yourself a holiday gift: a day of play in this appealing city. A sculpture scavenger hunt might be the perfect antidote to a season of consumerism. I did a test-run of such a day, and am offering you the fruits of my experience to guide your adventure.

My artful itinerary began with a phone call to my favorite art historian: Carolyn Kastner, the Associate Curator at the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe. Coincidentally, and happily for me, she is also my sister-in-law. We talked about contemporary art and outdoor art. What is it? Why is it essential to modern urban landscapes, what purpose does it serve,
and how can we know its meaning? After a bit of back-and-forth, she offered me the following words of wisdom, which I carried with me through my day: “Contemporary art is not an answer. It’s a question.”

She also taught me a new meaning for the word “accessibility,” one that had nothing to do with ramps and elevators. In this context, it means some art is harder to “decode” than other
art. As an example of the former, she offered Wheel, a contemporary take on a medicine wheel placed smack in front of the Denver Art Museum. This 2005 installment by Hachivi Edgar Heap of Birds (that’s his last name) brings the DAM’s long-standing commitment to
Native arts into the 21st Century, Kastner says. On my own, I might not have realized that the ritual circular pattern, the tree-shaped elements that make up this ballroom-sized piece, or the bloodred color all reference Native American themes. The red, tree-shaped parts are covered with symbols and text. These "tell the history and future of Colorado's past and present Native American population and their interaction with the politics of American life," says Heap of Birds.

A Native person might find this work more accessible than I did, and might have a very different response. (Mine could be summed up as “discomfort and shame.” The work directly addresses the United States’ history of appropriation and slaughter of Native peoples, their
lands, and their cultures. As a white, privileged person, it forces me to see that my fortune goes hand in hand with other people’s losses.) But no matter who the viewer is, Wheel works as public art: it elicits questions, leaves an impression, and calls forth a response.

At the other end of the “accessibility” spectrum, Kastner cited I See what You Mean by Lawrence Argent, the giant blue bear that peeks in the second story of the Colorado Convention Center. It’s imaginative and whimsical, and I found myself wanting to stroke its ankle – the only part that’s within reach on a creature so big. Charming and memorable –
but as conversation fodder, it is limited.

But we embarked on this journey as a play day, so don’t take the art or yourself too seriously. Feel free to look, touch (in most cases), and conjure up stories for the pieces – and then move on at a good clip. A more serious approach could work, of course, but for “my” itinerary, the art is an excuse to wander about in good company, rather than an intellectual
growth experience.

Let’s move on to the rest of our tour, all of which is easily managed by public transportation, via light rail or the 16th Street shuttle.

First stop: Greenwood Plaza, where Fiddler’s Green is located. This outdoor concert venue is a part of the Museum of Outdoor Arts (moaonline.org), a unique Denver institution. With two sites and an indoor exhibit space, MOA is all about bringing art to the community. At Fiddler’s Green, the 30-odd pieces are largely of the “accessible” sort, including a bronze The Mad Tea Party by Harry Marinsky, complete with a sleeping dormouse. But this site is one of the few locations where “land art” is easily found.

What’s land art, you wonder? Think of it as the nexus of landscape and art, where the earth is the medium. One Greenwood piece – Silent Resonance, by Torval Keller – uses boulders as
the medium. Then there’s a chunk of marble the size of a Hummer set on a hillside. Was that art? It wasn’t listed in the walking guide (downloaded from the moaonline.org website), and yet seeing it, touching it, and debating its provenance was just as satisfying as doing the same for any of the signed works. For now a temporary piece, Stickworks by Patrick Dougherty, makes a particularly alluring contribution – my partner and I were lured inside by the playhouse-like space, where we impersonated Snow White and at least one of the dwarves.

Second stop: Englewood City Center. This new urbanism development includes lots of grassy open space, a fountain in which children can frolic (at least during the warm months), and a formal cityscape that provides a backdrop for the second of the MOA’s “museum without walls” exhibition areas. It’s also a good spot for a pickme-up. Many national chains are within a block, but you’ll experience the flavor of the area best at Mile High Coffee at 871 Englewood Parkway, where you can enjoy a cup of locally-roasted, organic Haladi coffee.

Cup in hand, wander back outside, where art dots the parks and lines the sidewalks. Here, you might look for movement: several sculptures change with the wind or the push of a human
hand. Check out Two Open Trapezoids Excentric V (sic) by George Rickey as an example. Much of what you’ll see is whimsical, representational and colorful. Other pieces can be challenging. Check out John Isherwood’s Night Movement which, to my eye, looks like
holes drilled in granite.

Third stop: LoDo, a good place to get lunch at any of dozens of eateries. Begin your afternoon’s peregrinations at the Gates Triangle Sculpture Park next to Union Station, then pass by the Museum of Contemporary Art. I’m not proposing that you go in – although it’s
always provocative – but I do recommend that you take a look at the neon heart that drips neon blood above the museum entrance (Toxic Schizophrenia by Tim Noble and Sue Webster). The museum literature calls it a “divine beacon,” but some might think it befits
a casino or brothel. Hmm. The point isn’t who’s right; it’s that outdoor art can spark a debate and leave an indelible image.

Last stop: the Denver Art Museum, passing by the big blue bear and many other downtown sculptures en route. To make this stroll work, print out the “Downtown Denver Public Art” guide from the Denver Office of Cultural Affairs (www.denvergov.org/ArtCulture-Film/DenverPublicArtGuide). The map is clear, but the best part is the connection it offers to Public Art Phonecasts. When you see artwork you want to know more about, simply dial 1-877-336-2787 (1-877-DEN-ARTS), and enter the extension for that piece as listed in the guide. Then, with the phone on speaker, you and your companion can hear short interviews with the artists. How fun is that? At the DAM – which, with its new Frederic C. Hamilton Building, is a kind of outdoor sculpture on its own – you’ll see Wheel, of course. Big Sweep by Coosje van Bruggen and Claes Oldenburg is nearby, an enormous stainless steel and aluminum rendition of a dustpan and broom. The two sculptors specialize in oversized renditions of mundane matter – a spoon, a clothespin, a tube of lipstick – thereby rendering them spectacular. Simply by changing the scale of everyday objects, it seems, the spectator’s point of view changes as well.

Your day may be different than mine. You might seek out any of the art districts in town, such as Santa Fe Drive or the 37th and Navajo Art District (galleries and maps are available at www.denvergov.org/ArtCultureFilm). Or you might choose to visit the art on the interior
of the museums; both DAM and the Museum of Contemporary Art are open on Friday nights with special events. Whatever your fancy, Denver can offer a day that is arty, fun – and not the least bit related to holiday shopping.

In addition to writing The Enlightened Tourist column for Nexus, freelance writer Wendy Underhill has written features and investigative reports on a number of diverse topics.