In the heart of downtown Mobile is a house of wooden snakes. The serpents of distinction are in all sizes, colors and designs. Perhaps you have seen them on telephone poles, office windows and other locations in the city. If not, you still can.
The snakes are made from heart pine and created by Mobile folk artist Max Morey. A New Jersey native, Max is a retired casino administrator. He came south to open several Coastal Mississippi casinos. He also owned Mobile’s Crescent Theater until it closed in 2023. And he is a sculptor of wooden snakes.
“I am self-taught,” Morey says from his workshop where wooden snakes adorn walls and shelves. His carvings, though diverse in appearance and size, have a common link to Mobile’s history. Morey notes, “They are a tribute to our city’s founding father, Jean-Baptiste Le Moyne de Bienville.”
For back in the good ole days of the early 1700s, Bienville traveled from France with the mission of settling a quaint little forest today known as Mobile, Alabama. He noticed the local Native Americans tattooed their bodies with snake emblems, which was a status symbol in their tribes. Seeing the tattoos as a calling card for Native
American acceptance, Bienville had his body tattooed with snakes too, from his neck down.
Wearing just a loin cloth, Bienville walked into the Indian villages, displaying his heavily marked body for all to see. It worked.
The locals welcomed the inked Parisian as one of their own. “If not for his snake tattoos, we might not have Mobile today,” smiles Morey.
In commemoration of Bienville, Morey placed his snakes throughout downtown Mobile in 2006. Some are still located around the city, including at Cedar Street and the Oakleigh District.
“My work was not sanctioned by the city but they didn’t stop me either,” the artist notes.
Actually, Mobilians loved the snakes placed in secret, especially when trying to locate the elongated reptiles which suddenly appeared overnight. Morey and company installed his snakes from midnight to 6 a.m.
Morey’s customer and friend Cory Mattas recalls, “I never saw Max actually place his snakes but he told me how he did it,” he laughs, “It was very much a covert operation.”
When everything was done, Morey had positioned 47 carved snakes on telephone poles, walls and other sites as his creations took on a “Where’s Waldo” theme. Most enjoyed the new addition, but not all.
Alabama Power Company asked the artist to remove the wooden creatures from the company’s poles. The electric company argued that its service workers were impeded by the artistic endeavors on company property. Max complied with the company’s wishes.
But 18 years later, the reptilian revolution continues. The forked-tongue renditions are still in Downtown locations, ready for discovery from passersby. In addition, his work has appeared in art shows where buyers from throughout the U.S. purchased the wooden wonders for their collections.
“Like everybody else, we saw the serpents all over town,” notes Mattas. “My wife (then girlfriend) Margaret wanted one.” Today the couple has about 10 of their own.
Mattas vividly remembers the day that he met Morey at his studio to purchase the artist’s sculptures of wood. “I walked into his building and was amazed,” he recalls. “It was inspiring to see that massive collection of wooden snakes.”
Indeed, the snakes are inspirational but so is the workshop.
Morey also collects vintage automobiles, including 10 Volkswagen Beetles from around the 1960s. They are stored inside his workshop area. His shop and home also has an indoor courtyard with a small orchard, including a towering citrus tree loaded with oranges.
But the snakes dominate. Smaller ones are displayed in buckets, on shelves and around the room. Larger snake renditions (up to 13 feet long) adorn the walls. No two are exactly alike. Designs on the carvings include dots, squares, diamonds, patterns — whatever the artist desires during snake fabrication. “I have a thousand ideas up here,” Morey says, smiling and pointing to his head. His artistic ideas are then transferred to the piece as it takes shape.
Each carving has a story. “This is a nice one,” he says, picking up a snake-in-art from a row of contenders. “This piece is from an1872 cottage on Julia Street. The home was demolished and I got some nice wood pieces from it. The planks are well over 100 years old.” He adds, “Whenever an old home demolition is announced, I am the first one there, to retrieve the wood.” The results are beautiful.
His snake depictions began their life as boards hailing from Mobile’s Oakleigh District, old neighborhoods and legendary landmarks across South Alabama, Coastal Mississippi and the Florida Panhandle.
In the beginning, it’s all about the board. “I inspect each plank for termite damage, warping, twisting and rot. If I don’t like the board, I won’t go any further,” the carver notes. After board selection, Morey cuts the snake out of the middle of the wooden plank. He planes, sands and paints it. In a final step, three coats of polyurethane are applied to the piece to help it withstand Mobile’s weather.
Morey’s wood of choice has long been heart pine. “Heart pine lasts forever,” he states. “You obtain one of my snakes made of heart pine and it will still be here long after you’re gone.”
So why snakes?
“When I started this, I had a lot of long planks at my disposal,” the artist responds. “Some of the wood is from the original Crescent Theater that burned. What other animal could I create from a skinny board? I tried making eels and worms. Nobody cared for it, so I returned to snakes.”
Morey says his work creating art is not work. “This is so relaxing and rewarding,” he notes. “When I am in my workshop, carving and painting while sipping a cup of tea, I’m the happiest guy in the world.”
He adds, “Just as an artist looks at a finished painting with pride is how I view my snakes. I make these things for me, first. I just like doing it. After that comes the sales and displays, including the clandestine displays around Mobile. The number may soon change.” Morey teases with a smile, “More are coming.”
