Why A Cody Rancher Is Turning Old Barbed Wire Into Big, Spikey Steel Tumbleweeds

Replacing old fencing is a chore few ranchers enjoy, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be an artistic — and economic — opportunity.

Janelle Prows has been collecting barbed wire from decrepit fencing on her ranch near Cody. She usually recycles what can’t be repaired, but came up with an idea to see if she could turn a profit from her turned-over, worn-out barbed-wire fencing.

“When the wire is bad to the point that it doesn't have any salvage value for fence repair, I find a way to recycle it, either at metal salvage or as these tumbleweeds,” Prows told Cowboy State Daily. “There are a lot of people in the area who like Western and rustic decor, and I figured I'd see if there was any interest.”

Prows put together two “rustic wire tumbleweeds” — basically, winding the barbed-wire into large prickly balls — and decided to see if there was a potential buyer on social media for $100.

“There’s probably 250 feet of fencing in each of those balls,” she said. “I don’t know if there’s a market, but I’ve seen things vaguely similar on Etsy and some other websites, and I’ve seen some other pretty neat ideas, but I haven't had time to jump into them.”

Utility To Artistry

Barbed wire is a fixture of rural life in the United States. Repairing and replacing barbed-wire fencing is one of the most important and least-enjoyed tasks for anyone on a working ranch.

Prows finds her barbed wire while making routine sweeps of her property’s fence line. Like most ranchers, she’s not comfortable overlooking or leaving old wire.

“I don't like seeing forgotten, rotten wire in the middle of a pasture,” she said. “It’s an ecological waste and a hazard to livestock. It won’t break down, so I’ve got to clear it up.”

Jeff Best went through the same thought process when he pursued a property he bought in rural Michigan.

“As I walked it the very first time, I saw rolls of wound-up barbed wire that probably lived on the fence for 50 years, and probably lay in that pile for another 50 years,” he said. “The instant I saw that barbed wire, I said, ‘It would be cool to make a deer head out of it.’ I know it sounds strange, but that’s what went through my mind.”

That strange, sudden thought twisted into a full-time artistic career.

Best had been playing with barbed wire for years before he opened Devil’s Rope Studio in 2015. He’s since become a nationally renowned barbed-wire artist, twisting old wire into a menagerie of animals, objects and people.

“I've made for different municipalities, the entrance of cities, corporate clients and private collectors,” he said. “I’ve done everything from tabletop pieces to full-sized elk and bison.”

Wyomingites might be familiar with Best’s work. A barbed-wire elk he created was exhibited outside the Wells Fargo bank in Sheridan for two years.

“That was the very first sculpture loan program I ever got invited to participate in,” he said. “The Story County Conservation Group in Iowa purchased that sculpture.”

Best praised Wyoming, Colorado and Montana for “putting him on the map” as a barbed wire artist. His work has appeal everywhere, but Western states host more sculpture walks and art loan programs that suit his style.

“I always say that was my marketing tool, because my stuff got exposed out West,” he said.

Drawn In By What Repels

Best called barbed wire “a unique medium” of sculpture.

In spaces traditionally dominated by bronze art, his barbed wire creations stand out for their distinct look and artistry.

“I'm not saying that I'm the first or only one ever to do anything on a barbed wire,” he said. “Others have done it, but everybody has their unique technique.”

Bronzes can be one-of-a-kind, but most bronze artists create several sculptures or multiple editions from the same mold. That isn’t an option with barbed wire, so every sculpture is one-of-a-kind by default.

Best thinks that’s part of the allure of barbed wire sculpture. He’s not the first person to make a barbed wire bison, but his finished piece can’t be replicated without the same intense labor and artistry.

“I don't stamp them out,” he said. “It's all hands, gloves, needle-nose pliers, and my eyes. Those are the only things I use, so every piece is unique.”

There’s also something to be said about the medium itself. Barbed wire evokes memories of blood, sweat, and tears. It’s iconic but not viewed as beautiful.

“Everybody has a barbed wire story, and it's never a good story,” Best said. “Barbed wire doesn’t have a good history, but if it’s wadded up in just the right way, it’s got a lot of appeal.”

Best recognizes and embraces the “bad history” of barbed wire. He’s found that his sculptures are uniquely evocative, as anybody who’s been on the bad end of barbed wire can immediately connect with what he’s twisted together.

“You’re thinking it shouldn't look good, and yet it does,” he said. “You’re drawn in by something that was made to repel you. That’s why it intrigues people, across the board.”

Straight From The Source

Millions of miles of barbed wire still stretch across the United States. Best doesn’t have to go far to find material to work with.

“I used to work with 100% reclaimed, but now it’s about 50/50,” he said. “I live in a rural countryside setting with a lot of Amish settlements, and once you’re known as the barbed wire sculptor guy, everybody’s taking down a fence.”

At this point in his career, Best is working full-time on the years’ worth of commissions he’s received for barbed wire sculptures. As his profile grows, he’s gotten requests for more diverse pieces, which has him switching between the old and the new.

“People want their stuff painted or powder-coated in certain colors, so there’s no sense in doing that over rusted barbed wire. I buy a lot of new barbed wire from the local Amish hardware store,” he said.

Best’s commissions include a leprechaun for the City of Clare, a “Huckleberry Finn-type character,” and a three-foot-tall work boot. He’s never been “stumped” by a commission, although he’s still pondering how to actualize one coming down the line.

“I have to do a house cat,” he said. “I’ve been mulling over how I'm going to do that one, but that's the only one I'm worried is going to stump me.”

Tumbling Tumbleweeds

Best estimated that he has around 18 permanent installations of his barbed wire sculptures in 10 states, with more on the way. His latest work was a pair of eagles he sculpted for a veteran’s park.

“They wanted to be identical,” he said. “I told them if what you're looking for, they’ve come to the wrong place. I can make them unique, but I can't make them identical. I think those imperfections make them look real, because they aren’t exactly the same.”

Best has never made or received a commission for a barbed wire tumbleweed like the ones Prows put together. Of course, there’s a practicality behind Prows’s pieces.

“I have to get the wire pulled out of the brush and grass, and out of the old posts,” she said. “Then I get the decrepit wire rolled up and replaced with new wire.”

Prows said it takes several hours of work to create each of her tumbleweeds. The time commitment comes from a mixture of artistry and practicality, which lends Western authenticity to her pieces.

“Making tumbleweeds speeds up the process of clearing old fence rows,” she said. “If the fence is no longer being maintained, I prefer to see it removed entirely, and if it’s in good condition, I coil it up.”

The Juxtaposition

Best still has the first deer head he made from the coil of barbed wire he encountered in Michigan, proudly hanging above his home mailbox.

It’s a reminder of the emotional juxtaposition that flares up in people when they encounter his work.

“Everybody wants to touch my stuff,” he said. “In the art world, you don't touch anything. I always tell people, ‘Go ahead and touch it, but it might touch back.’”

Prows wasn’t sure if there was a market for barbed wire tumbleweeds in Wyoming.

If Best’s career is any indication, there is always a demand for authentic Western art – even if the medium is painful memories, twisted metal, and art brought together from something meant to keep things apart.

“Barbed wire was made for a purpose, and after 50 years it gets worn out and put in a pile,” Best said. “We pull it out of there and turn it into something that’ll give it another 50 to 100 years of life. I think that’s why people love barbed wire sculptures. You create something enjoyable from a material that's rarely ever thought to bring joy.”

Andrew Rossi can be reached at arossi@cowboystatedaily.com.