Great Fences Make Great Neighborhoods: Delli Speers’ South Side Art Fence

Kirsten Ervin

five crocheted figures with black hats and googly eyes attached to chain link fence
South Side Flamingo Sentries standing at googly-eyed guard, Wrights Way, South Side

Flo Flamingo has gone missing. Flavius Flamingo had nothing to do with it. Don’t worry, the South Side Sentries have it all under control. 

Often the most vibrant and interesting public art exists undetected by the established art world or wider community. Instead, this is public art known and loved by a few neighbors and makers participating in its magic and upkeep.

utility pole wrapped in knitted decoration with heart
“I didn’t know I was yarn bombing.” On Wrights Way, utility poles, street signs, downspouts, and at least one gas meter have gotten dressed-up.

You, Orbit Reader, have visited many of these places virtually with us—semi-hidden treasures like Pittsburgh’s Central Park and Remly Way. These special places aren’t exactly a secret, but they’re neither tourist destination nor commissioned public art. 

Instead, these are environments created by dreamers who took the initiative to physically manifest their imaginations and insert them directly into their communities. Moving past the cultural gatekeepers, these artists forged ahead with their vision. These are art installations seeking community input, changing and evolving with the neighborhood around them.

sweater with large crocheted face attached
My face is down here. Delli Speers’ art/planter/sweater (summer, 2022)

Such a place is Delli Speers’ Fiber Art Fence on the South Side. Located along Wrights Way, a residential alley not far from the South Side Carnegie Library, this 80-foot-long chain link fence lies between a UPMC parking lot and a quiet row of 19th century brick row houses. Speers, a fiber artist who recently turned 87, has been yarn bombing this fence since 2007.

The fence is bedecked with all manner of fiber artifacts, many knitted by Speers, her neighbors, friends, and family members. A giant pink knitted face with yellow hair looks questioningly at the viewer, eyebrows raised. Knitted flowers in reds, oranges, and yellows dot the fence, as do large kaleidoscopic hula hoops from fiber artist Cheryl Hopper.

crochet art created on hula hoop and attached to chain link fence
Hopper hoop. Crocheted hula hoop by Cheryl Hopper

Speers, who lives across the street from the fence, asked Goodwill, her previous neighbor, to replace the old one some 15 years ago. “It was broken down and rusty and I had two little granddaughters and I was concerned it would fall and hurt them,” said Speers. “So I wrote a letter to the president of Goodwill asking them to build a new fence. I told them I would maintain the fence and the grounds in front of it.”

Eighteen months later, a new fence was built and Speers got to work. After asking Goodwill permission to hang art, she began with knitted plant hangers, fastened to the fence with zip ties. Soon, a set of family afghans were hung on the fence, musty from years of mothballs. These were first installed to air out, but left up as a kind of experiment to see what time and the elements would do to them. In fact, this environmental impact is what interests Speers the most about her outdoor art venture.

large fiber artwork attached to chain link fence
Blue and gold tribute to Ukraine by Judy Manion.

“For me it’s a process,” she says. “I’m really not as interested in the objects themselves, I want to see what the weather does to them, what the sun does to certain colors [of acrylic yarn]. The paddy green becomes a beautiful teal green, sometimes the pink turns into an orange.”

Speers, a longtime artist and weaver who attended art school at Pratt Institute in 1950s Brooklyn, encouraged other artist friends to take part. Pittsburgh-based fiber artists Donna Kearns, Judy Manion, and Cheryl Hopper have all contributed knitted and crocheted artwork to the fence over the years. All are members of the Fiber Arts Guild of Pittsburgh, which Speers connected with in 2012, after attending a knitting workshop at Contemporary Craft.

fiber art tree with colored streamers attached to chain link fence
Knitted tree by Delli Speers

“I didn’t know I was yarn bombing,” says Speers, but she soon met artist Amanda Gross who organized the Guild’s impressive Knit the Bridge installation in downtown Pittsburgh in 2013. “When she found out about my fence, Amanda told me ‘you’re a yarn bomber.’ I had never heard the term.” 

Speers describes a fence collaboration she did with artist friend Judy Manion of a giant knitted American flag. Manion created the flag with falling bars and stars in response to 9/11 and installed it on the fence in 2014. “The wind, the rain, and temperature changes started to do funny things to the flag, so I took it off and laid it on the deck and rearranged it.” The deteriorated and rearranged flag was entered into a juried art show. Speers then returned the flag to the fence, letting it decompose further. This later iteration was also exhibited professionally.

knitted artistic American flag hanging from chain link fence
American flag in three stages. The original, as created by Judy Manion (left) along with two more weathered versions rearranged by Speers and used in subsequent exhibitions. [photos courtesy of Delli Speers]

One of the major themes of the fiber fence is Speers’ sense of playfulness and humor, the sheer fun she has with this project. Fixtures of the fence have been Flo and Flavius Flamingo, two plastic pink flamingos that Speers knits outfits for, changing them with the seasons.

At one point Flo Flamingo was stolen, taken from the fence. Speers responded with a wry visual message. A coffin and knitted skeleton hand was tacked to the fence with the message Rest in Peace, Flo Flamingo, 2023. Someone Stole Her! A month later, Flo was back with the message Thank you for returning Flo! Now, a row of pod-shaped creatures with black hats and googly eyes stand guard over the flamingos. Above them a sign reads Presenting South Side Flamingo Sentries. Speers has expanded her reach to festoon the telephone poles and gas meters with whimsical knitted snakes and other creatures.

fiber artist Delli Speers with a set of decorations along a public fence
Delli Speers with Flo and Flavius Flamingo and the South Side Flamingo Sentries

Speers welcomes contributions to the fence from others, especially from fiber artists and neighbors, but prefers people to reach out to her first. “I’m all for it,” she says, “I’m willing to take my stuff down” [to make room for new art]. “I have a lot of tchotchkes up there but mainly to fill up the fence and make it colorful. People like to walk their dogs down the street.”

There is no wrong way to see Wrights Way. It is a constantly evolving environment of beautiful, fun, and wacky invention—some of it bright and new; some of it experiencing the passage of time with all the sun-bleached, rain-soaked, and ice-cracked weathering Pittsburgh’s seasons will throw at it. Visit soon, visit later, while the sun is shining and when there’s snow on the ground—you’ll be glad you did.


Getting there: Delli Speers fiber fence is on Wrights Way, between 24th and 25th Streets, on the South Side. You can visit any time and if you’re looking for an excuse, the fence will be featured for the Doors Open event in the South Side on September 23.

Step Beat: Oakley Dokeley, The Oakley Way Rehab

Detail of public steps with mosaic decoration of a woman's head, Pittsburgh, PA

It’s a cruel reality: when you’re working the city step beat, there ain’t a lot of news to report. No, most of the stories we run end up being about going to visit steps that inevitably won’t be around for long, occasional Indiana Jones-style heroics to hike them, or the historical curiosities of infrastructure ruins that were once so vital and now–all too often–go nowhere and serve no one.

So it is with no small amount of glee that The Orbit goes to press with a story on not only the complete rehabilitation of a set of core city steps, but the genuine newsy news that they’ve been wonderfully dressed-up in brand-new full-color mosaic tile.

public steps with mosaic decoration including houses, sky, a fox, a bird, sun, and stars, Pittsburgh, PA

Oakley Way Steps, top mosaic section

Oakley Way is one of the many climbs that create access points from the South Side Slopes above to the flats below (and vice-versa). The street is actually seven short (but mostly vertical) blocks long–part city steps/part steep road-with-steps sidewalk. The bottommost stretch (from Josephine to McCord) is the only section that’s received the mosaic treatment, but some of the upper sections have also been nicely rehabbed with patched concrete and fully repaired and repainted blue handrails.

Artist Laura Jean McLaughlin led a group of volunteers in the design, construction, and installation of the mosaic risers. That process was covered in a recent Post-Gazette piece that only scooped us because we got side-tracked by Fairywood and tryptophan and shelved the post for a month. Fooey!

looking up Oakley Street city steps, Pittsburgh, PA

Looking up: the Oakley Way steps

Spread across seventy-seven consecutive risers, the mosaic’s central figure is a tall red-booted woman in a checkered skirt who–based on the proportional size of the river, bridge, and factory building also in the piece–must stand about the height of the US Steel tower. Also decorating the lush scene are Slopes homes, grass, flowers, a fox, a bird, the sun and stars.

If you’ve seen any of McLaughlin’s other local projects you’ll recognize her loose, cartoonish, and earthy signatures. A lesser blog might invoke the term “whimsical,” or even (shudder) “funky”. The Orbit won’t stoop to that level, so we’ll just say they’re fun, very Slopes-centric, and a great compliment to the D.P.W.’s fix-up work.

Oakley Street city steps, Pittsburgh, PA

View down the bottommost section of Oakley Way (from McCord Street)

We’ve argued in these very virtual pages that Pittsburgh’s network of public steps is a city asset unlike any other–part transit route, part jungle gym, part historical oddity, and what should be a big draw for tourism*. It’s encouraging to see any set of steps getting much-needed maintenance, but it’s especially great to see them dressed to thrill with such a wonderful addition as McLaughlin’s mosaic.

There’s at least one other similar project out there and completed. Linda Wallen’s mosaic work at the base of the steps off Itin Street in Spring Garden isn’t nearly as ambitious as Oakley Way, but it’s still a great twinkling beacon in the great constellation of city step dark stars. May these two heroic projects guide step freaks to a new, golden dawn of altitude adjustment, wide perspectives, and throbbing calf muscles.

public steps with mosaic tile decoration of woman's head with houses and deer in the background, Pittsburgh, PA

Old and new: remnants of an earlier, defunct passage under the rehabbed Oakley Way steps


* Visitors who don’t want to lose their breath climbing dozens of flights of steps to dilapidated neighborhoods with spectacular views should consider lodging other than Chez Orbit’s fold-out sofa.

Valentine’s Day Hearts

graffiti on brick wall of dozens of small hearts above a row of commercial trash bins, Pittsburgh, PA

Flying hearts (or maybe just flying flies) and trash bins, Oakland

Hearts. They’re just about everywhere this time of year, right? In shop windows, taped to cubicle nameplates, iced into bakery desserts, crocheted in red yarn and pinned on comfy sweaters. But try to find a real one–O.K., not a real real one, but an un-store bought/handmade/interesting representation of a heart–it ain’t so easy. There are some of them out on the street, though.

Neon sign of a red heart with green bands surrounding from a tattoo parlour, Pittsburgh, PA

Tattoo parlour neon sign, South Side

Love is a great thing, right? If so, why is Valentine’s Day such a loathsome event? [To call this a “holiday” is a major stretch.] It’s contrived from no clear history, crassly commercial, and oozes sickeningly forced sentimentality. No major shopping event between Christmas and Easter? Let’s sell some candy in February! Oh, and pink is just the worst, most nauseating color. This open-to-all-other-hues blogger shudders just thinking about it.

Valentine’s Day seems almost diabolically created to make single people feel bad and puts a lot of couples into a weird state of obligatory self-congratulation. Dear, I don’t subscribe to the man’s holiday, but I also don’t want you to think I don’t care. Being in a good relationship can be terrific, but it ain’t great every single day, and maybe it doesn’t just happen to be firing on February 14 each year–but you wouldn’t know it from the full tables at fancy restaurants and stacks of Whitman’s samplers at Rite-Aid.

Mural of human heart on cinderblock wall by Jeremy Raymer, Pittsburgh, PA

Mural by Jeremy Raymer, Lawrenceville

The heart is a strange symbol for love–although maybe not any more peculiar than anything else we (humans) might have selected. A heaving, involuntary muscle that looks terrifyingly freaky when we actually see a real one going at it. O.R. nurses and surgeons must get used to the sight, but I doubt this blogger ever would. The simplified, symmetric, cartoon representation we’ve adopted doesn’t look anything like a real human heart. If it did, we’d have to find another symbol for the emotion.

spray painted heart stencil

Spray paint/stencil, Bigelow Blvd. pedestrian overpass, Polish Hill

All this belly-aching, but valentines (the physical tokens of affection, not the day) can be pretty darn swell. Fold some paper, cut out some letters, whip out the glue stick.They’re probably one of the few ways (some) people still keep up their craft chops post-elementary school. Mrs. The Orbit never fails to deliver particularly creative, wonderful, and wacky inventions. [She could teach a class!] At least, we hope some other people still hand make theirs, or does everybody just buy a card at the drug store now? Well, if you do, don’t–it’s fun to make your own, it’s a really terrific gesture, and everyone likes to have something, uh, from the heart.

Heart-shaped gravestone, Highwood Cemetery, Pittsburgh, PA

They called him “Teddy Bear” (maybe). Heart-shaped gravestone, Highwood Cemetery