Famous Statues of the United States

A statue, strictly speaking, is a sculpture of a person or animal, usually standing around somewhere looking dignified. The United States has plenty of those, but it also has a habit of stretching the definition until it snaps, claiming a polished metal bean, a 630-foot arch, and an entire mountainside of presidential foreheads as honorary members of the club. What follows is a tour of the country's most famous statues, broadly defined, ranging from a copper lady who has been quietly going green for over a century to a giant chrome legume that the city of Chicago absolutely refuses to call by its real name. Dignity is optional. Fame is the only requirement.

Statue of Liberty, New York

The most famous statue in the country was not even made here. Lady Liberty was a gift from France, designed by sculptor Frederic Auguste Bartholdi, shipped across the Atlantic in 350 pieces, and dedicated on what is now Liberty Island in 1886. She is built of copper roughly the thickness of two pennies, which is why she went from shiny brown to her signature green over a few decades of weathering. Here is the part most people get wrong: before the full statue arrived, her torch-bearing arm went on tour, parked at the 1876 Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia and later in Madison Square Park, where for a fee you could climb up inside the torch. The torch has been closed to the public since 1916, so that particular thrill is gone, but the arm did its job and helped raise the money to build the rest of her.

Abraham Lincoln, Washington, D.C.

Seated at the west end of the National Mall, the 19-foot marble Lincoln has been presiding over the Lincoln Memorial since 1922, carved by the Piccirilli Brothers from designs by Daniel Chester French. The statue has collected its share of folklore, the most persistent being that Lincoln's hands are subtly forming the letters A and L in sign language, a nod to his founding of a university for the deaf. The National Park Service says this is not true and was never intended. Believe whichever version makes the visit more fun, but know that the official answer is no.

Mount Rushmore, South Dakota

Calling Mount Rushmore a statue is generous, since it is really a mountain that lost an argument, but it is too famous to leave off. Sculptor Gutzon Borglum and some 400 workers carved the 60-foot faces of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt, and Abraham Lincoln into the granite of the Black Hills between 1927 and 1941, using dynamite for most of the heavy lifting. Borglum died months before it was finished and his son Lincoln completed the job. The original plan called for the presidents to be carved down to the waist, but the money ran out, which is why four of America's most important leaders are, to this day, just floating heads.

Cloud Gate, Chicago

Officially, the mirror-polished sculpture in Chicago's Millennium Park is named Cloud Gate, a thoughtful title chosen by its creator, British artist Anish Kapoor. Nobody in Chicago has ever once called it that. To the entire city it is The Bean, because it is shaped like a bean, and Kapoor reportedly found the nickname mildly insulting, which only made everyone use it more. Built between 2004 and 2006 from 168 stainless steel plates welded so seamlessly that the joints are invisible, its liquid-mercury surface reflects and warps the downtown skyline. It is arguably the only entry here that is unambiguously a sculpture, and even it cannot get people to use its real name.

Christ of the Ozarks, Arkansas

Rising about 65 feet above Magnetic Mountain near Eureka Springs, Arkansas, this monumental figure of Jesus with arms outstretched was completed in 1966 as part of a planned religious attraction. Designed by sculptor Emmet Sullivan, who had also worked on dinosaur sculptures for roadside parks, the statue has been unkindly compared by some critics to a milk carton, owing to its boxy, simplified form. It remains a genuine landmark of the Ozarks and the centerpiece of a long-running outdoor passion play, milk-carton resemblance and all.

The Spirit of Detroit, Michigan

This 26-foot seated bronze figure on Woodward Avenue, sculpted by Marshall Fredericks and installed in 1958, was the largest cast bronze statue made since the Renaissance when it went up. It holds a golden orb in one hand, meant to symbolize God, and a small family group in the other. Detroiters have adopted it as the unofficial heart of the city, to the point that whenever a Detroit sports team makes a deep playoff run, someone dresses the statue in an enormous custom team jersey. It is hard to think of a higher honor a city can pay a bronze man.

The Library Lions, New York

The pair of marble lions flanking the main entrance of the New York Public Library have guarded the books since 1911, and they have been renamed more times than most people change phones. They started as Leo Astor and Leo Lenox, after the library's founders, were later dubbed Lord Astor and Lady Lenox despite both being male, and were finally christened Patience and Fortitude by Mayor Fiorello La Guardia during the Great Depression, virtues he felt New Yorkers needed to get through it. The names stuck. They are arguably the most photographed lions in America that were never actually alive.

This Is the Place Monument, Utah

At the mouth of Emigration Canyon on the east side of Salt Lake City stands the This Is the Place Monument, dedicated in 1947 on the 100th anniversary of the Mormon pioneers' arrival in the Salt Lake Valley. The name comes from the words Brigham Young is said to have spoken upon seeing the valley: "This is the right place, drive on." The monument was sculpted by Mahonri Young, who happened to be Brigham Young's grandson, which makes it one of the few major American monuments built by the literal descendant of the man it honors.

Statue of Commodore John Barry, Pennsylvania

Standing behind Independence Hall in Philadelphia, this bronze statue honors Commodore John Barry, an Irish-born naval officer often called the Father of the American Navy for commanding the first US warship commissioned under the new Constitution. The 1907 statue is one of several around the country celebrating Barry, who has the rare distinction of being claimed enthusiastically by both the United States and Ireland. It is the most conventional statue on this list, a real person, standing up, looking dignified, which by the standards of everything else here makes it the odd one out.

The Gateway Arch, Missouri

We close with the entry that is least a statue and most a feat of engineering. The Gateway Arch in St. Louis, completed in 1965 and designed by architect Eero Saarinen, soars 630 feet, making it the tallest arch in the world and the tallest man-made monument in the Western Hemisphere. A tram inside carries visitors to an observation deck at the top. It was built to symbolize the westward expansion of the United States, and over the years it has tempted a remarkable number of daredevils, with pilots flying small planes through the gap and at least a couple of parachutists leaping off the top, none of which the National Park Service recommends. It is not a statue. It is too good to leave out.

Monuments, Mountains, And One Very Famous Bean

The strange thing about America's most famous statues is how few of them are actually statues. A copper gift from France and a dignified Irish commodore play it straight, but the rest cheerfully bend the rules: a mountain wearing four faces, an arch tall enough to have its own elevators, a chrome bean that refuses its given name. What ties them together is not form but fame. Each one has become so woven into the identity of its city or state that nobody bothers asking whether it technically qualifies. They are landmarks first and sculptures second, and the country is more recognizable because of every one of them.