The statue is just called "Elk," but almost everyone calls it "The Thompson Elk." It was donated to the city by David P. Thompson, a former mayor, who made sure his name was there in big bold letters on the side of the pedestal.
Thompson was a professional politician who held various offices in Idaho and Oregon. He was also a U.S. diplomat to the Ottoman Empire at one point. But this isn't really about him. This is about the Elk.
The Elk debuted in 1900, and at the time it was functional as well as ornamental. Like Portland's earlier Skidmore Fountain, it was meant to be a drinking fountain. Here it is in 1901, one year after it's debut and the same year Thompson died.
The upper part of the fountain was for people. You'd dip your hand, cup, canteen, or whole head in there and get some water. The lower part was for horses and dogs.
And how did Portland react to this bit of functional philanthropy?
They hated it.
They hated it.
This is from "Portland: A Historical Sketch and Guide" published by @OrHist in 1976:
"When at its dedication the Exalted Order of Elks were asked to officiate, they refused, calling the elk "a monstrosity of art," adding that its neck would be "the envy of a giraffe."
"When at its dedication the Exalted Order of Elks were asked to officiate, they refused, calling the elk "a monstrosity of art," adding that its neck would be "the envy of a giraffe."
Also:
"Over the years it has been abused with many names; 'eye-sore,' 'gargoyle quadruped,' 'that fossilized stag.'"
"Over the years it has been abused with many names; 'eye-sore,' 'gargoyle quadruped,' 'that fossilized stag.'"
Basically as soon as it was unveiled lots of people thought the elk, which was supposed to be a nice statue on top of a thing that gave everyone free water, as a hideous abomination that needed to be ripped from the streets.
You might notice that the actual elk is a bit more robust than the statue. The Thompson Elk is skinny and borderline emaciated. Every time I see that underfed ungulate I want to give him a nice, big plate of fettuccine alfredo.
WHY? We're not sure. I've heard two competing stories: One that the artist was working from a painting of an elk that showed it at a distance, and another story that he was working from a dead elk that had starved. I can't substantiate either one of these.
Downtown Portland's one-way street grid is the result of a lot of changes and iterations, but it started under reformer mayor Dorothy McCullough Lee in the late 1940s.
That street grid did something even more undignified to the elk: Starting in the 1940s, when you drove up Main the elk was facing away from you. So, the already-maligned statue was now weirdly inconsistent with Portland's new, one-way street grid.
By the 1950s more cars were taking over Portland streets and a fountain that gave everyone (even horses) free water was no longer as useful. Getting rid of or removing the elk was a perennial topic of conversation.
The Portland Arts Commission, though, saved the Elk. Formed in the 1950s, they argued for the preservation of a lot of early-generation public art like the Skidmore Fountain and the Thompson Elk. In 1959 they argued to the city council that the Elk should stay.
Despite being in the middle of the street, surrounded by cars, and no longer having any horses to give water to, the elk was allowed to stay on its pedestal.
In 1974 the elk and surrounding park blocks were officially designated as historical landmarks, so the Thompson Elk has been an official part of preserved Portland history for over forty years despite looking like a starved gremlin with giant horns.
Almost forgot to mention. The elk shows up in My Own Private Idaho with a rider on it. Which is weird? To the best of my knowledge elk cavalry has never been a thing. And the dude is too skinny to hold a human anyway.
Being in the middle of two park blocks right by City Hall and the Justice Center, the elk had quite a time during protests.
I think this image was trying to shame the protesters? Honestly, it looks rad as heck and makes the elk look like some primal god of righteous anger.
I think this image was trying to shame the protesters? Honestly, it looks rad as heck and makes the elk look like some primal god of righteous anger.
The Regional Arts and Culture Council removed the elk to protect it from being damaged which, honestly, is probably a good move. The guy is 120 years old, and I'd hat to see cops hit him with a baton round.
But... Someone made a new elk. He is glorious and strange, and given that the original was called a "monstrosity of art" and "gargoyle quadruped," the new statue is kind of perfect.
Portland's elk is a weird monster. Right now another weird monster is keeping watch in his absence. That is sort of beautiful. May gargoyle quadrupeds watch over downtown Portland for all of its days and nights.