What’s a Man Rabbit House

“Man Rabbit House” by Robert Santoré — A Monumental Meditation in Steel
Texas Hill Country Installation (1985 – Present)

In the windswept openness of the Texas Hill Country—where nature’s grandeur meets unfiltered horizon—rises a sculpture both startling and sublime: Man Rabbit House, a 12-foot corten steel monolith by contemporary artist Robert Santoré. Originally conceived in 1985 during Santoré’s formative years at Otis Parsons in Los Angeles, this piece occupies a conceptual intersection reminiscent of Christo’s iconic interventions—Running Fence and The Umbrellas—in its dynamic dialogue with distance, scale, and viewer perspective.

At first glance, the angular silhouette reads like a study in brutalist architecture—a sentry of geometry, formed with hard planes and sharp ascents. Yet it transforms with every step around it: from one vantage point, a towering man; from another, a dwelling complete with a voided “door”; from yet another, the suggestion of a rabbit—ears alert, presence humble. These shifting identities are not merely visual games—they’re meditations on survival, transformation, and habitation. Man. Rabbit. Shelter. The primal trifecta of existence.

Santoré’s choice of corten steel imbues the work with a visceral aging process, its patina deepening under the Texan sun and sudden storms. In some editions, a tin-dipped finish creates an unexpected luster—shimmering or dull depending on time of day and sky’s mood—making Man Rabbit House both object and participant in the environment. The nod to Henry Moore is felt in its hollowed spaces and contemplative posture, though Santoré’s voice is unshakably his own: raw, assertive, yet open to the whims of the land and light.

While this early sketch from 1985 might appear humble in its rendering, it’s imbued with the raw intuition of an artist who saw beyond form and into myth. Man Rabbit House doesn’t simply exist in the landscape—it animates it, breathing the language of both ancient totems and modernist design into Texas soil. It’s a sculpture that doesn’t just stand—it watches, waits, and whispers back.

A masterwork of spatial poetry.