I spoke to Z Behl the day before she was scheduled to board a flight to Chicago and the Democratic National Convention. Z isn’t a delegate. Nor is she a member of the press. She’s an artist who lives in Clavarack, NY. She isn’t a protestor either, though I suppose the reason she was flying to the Windy City constitutes a form of protest. She was hoping to get publicity for Storm the Capitol, a board game about the January 6th riot that she and her brother Walker created.
Z didn’t have convention credentials. Their goal, she explained, was to get people to talk and tweet about the game. “Walker has been to the Hunter Biden trial,” Z told me. “When they gave the Trump verdict he was there. If somebody posts about the game we sell fifty copies immediately. That’s the racquet at the moment.”
Z’s other current foray into the cultural ferment sits in a field in Germantown, NY. It’s far less portable than a board game, though I think it would enhance the plaza in front of the United Center or any other major arena in the nation. The Barclays Center in Brooklyn, for example, has boasted a nearly 12,000 pound cast bronze sculpture called “Ona” by artist Ursula Von Rydingsvard.
Z Behl with “Thatcher the Snatcher”
Z’s creation is Thatcher the Snatcher. At roughly twenty-two feet high, made entirely of scrap metal junkyard parts, and weighing a solid ton it’s part of a group show at the Mother-in-Law’s gallery. It’s based on a children’s book from Z’s youth that satirizes former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher and the Falklands War.
Come to think of it, maybe “Margaret” as Z affectionately refers to the sculpture might be a bit too controversial, a bit too in your face, for a municipal arena. Z refers to its post-feminist layer. I’m not entirely sure what that means except that, a mix of women’s work domestic appliances and heavy duty agricultural equipment, it’s reasonably anatomically correct, its private parts made from things like washer/dryer doors, a manure remover and a feed spout. You really have to see it yourself and you can do so through September on Saturdays at 140 Church Avenue in Germantown. Or by checking out a photograph of Z and the work accompanying this column on WAMC’s website.
Since the show had no budget Z was forced to be not only artistically but financially creative. Turns out her parents, who also live in Germantown, have a dump, a trash heap where farmers have discarded broken equipment for decades. “When my parents got the property,” Z told me, “I thought, ‘Oh, this is my inheritance.’”
She hired Filippo Meozzi, a Bard college student with a pick-up truck to haul six truckloads of metal out of the ravine. Then she worked with a team that included Jonathan Schippers, a designer and Kim Moloney, a welder and one of the few female members of the Iron Workers union, to assure that Margaret was structurally sound. David Behl, Z’s father and an artist and photographer, also helped, especially on the prime minister’s posterior. They made the sculpture in pieces, transported it on a bucket truck, and then assembled it on site.
This isn’t the first time Z has worked on a monumental scale. In 2022 the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia commissioned her to make numerous pieces including a cyclone, a thirty-foot tall horse and a 300-foot long snake for an arts festival in Riyadh. “A lot of people don’t work big until they have a career that supports that,” Z acknowledged. “I go about it the other way.”
Her peculiar genius seems to be not just turning humble everyday objects into monumental art but imbuing them with a sense of humor; though I don’t know how pleased the original Maggi Thatcher would have been with her depiction as a glowering Valkyrie.
The question now is what becomes of Margaret the Snatcher once the show ends? Z says she’s in discussion with different curators about finding a home for the work. Since Margaret was born and bred in Germantown, so to speak, Z’s fantasy is to place it in the village, perhaps in the vicinity of Gaskins, a venerable local restaurant, though the artist acknowledges that it could pose a significant traffic hazard.
Her mother suggested locating it with a local brewery but Z is resisting the commercialism of such a venue. At worst it will find a home in a field on her parents property or at her own home. One thing’s for certain. It’s not going back to the dump.
And how did she do selling Storm the Capitol at the Democratic National Convention? When I asked for an update she replied with a TikTok video shot at the convention that includes an interview with her about the state of the world. These days that’s probably almost as good as a museum retrospective.
Ralph Gardner, Jr. is a journalist who divides his time between New York City and Columbia County. More of his work can be found be found on Substack.
The views expressed by commentators are solely those of the authors. They do not necessarily reflect the views of this station or its management.
