Wandering through the centre of Birmingham a few weeks ago, we were delighted to encounter The Floozie in the Jacuzzi flaunting her wares seductively in Victoria Square. More properly known as The River, the lovely lady is a bubbling fountain, a landmark popular both with local residents and with visitors to the city like me and Mrs P. She’s definitely a bit of an eyeful.

Dhruva Mistry’s sculpture dates back to 1993. It’s said that his water goddess represents the life force, and was conceived as a vehicle for instilling a feeling of ‘peace and safety’ amongst people visiting this busy city centre. The good folk of Birmingham appear to have decided that this explanation is maybe a bit pretentious, and that the The Floozie in the Jacuzzi sums her up a lot better. Who am I to argue?

Another piece of Birmingham’s public art celebrates three men who made important contributions to the development of the steam engine in the late 18th century, and who were therefore key players in the early stages of the Industrial Revolution. James Watt (1736-1819) was an ideas man who came up with various improvements to the basic steam engine, while Matthew Boulton (1728-1809) was a wealthy businessman who provided the funding to put Watt’s ideas into practice. They went into partnership in Birmingham in 1775, and the highly practical William Murdoch (1754-1839) formally joined that partnership in 1810.

The homage to the three princes of steam dates from 1956, and is the work of William Bloye (formerly head of sculpture at Birmingham School of Art) and sculptor Raymond Forbes-Kings. Unsurprisingly, it is known as The Golden Boys. More unexpectedly, however, locally the alternative name for the piece is The Carpet Salesmen, reflecting the fact that the plans for a steam engine that the three men are inspecting looks suspiciously like a bit of carpet. Oh, how I love the cheeky irreverence of Birmingham folk!

Another eye-catching piece of artwork in Birmingham city centre is A Real Birmingham Family, a cast bronze sculpture by award-winning artist Gillian Wearing. The subject matter is unconventional, and features two ordinary local women and their sons. The women are sisters, one of whom is pregnant – her second son was born shortly before the sculpture was unveiled in 2014.

No review of public art in Birmingham would be complete without reference to bulls. The city’s famous Bull Ring shopping centre is built on a site that was for centuries used for the brutal “sport” of bull-baiting. The practice was outlawed in 1835, but the name continues to be associated with that part of the city and is remembered through Laurence Broderick’s magnificent bronze sculpture. The Bull was installed in 2003, and in my eyes portrays the animal as a noble and powerful beast, rather than as the victim of an appalling blood sport.

There is of course another equally, if not more famous piece of public art celebrating Birmingham’s connection with bulls. I have written previously about the Raging Bull, which was commissioned to open the Commonwealth Games held in Birmingham in 2023. A couple of years after the games, Raging Bull was relocated to New Street Station, and renamed Ozzy in honour of local heavy metal music hero Ozzy Osborne. We were delighted to see Ozzy in his new location when we visited earlier in the summer, where he was continuing to draw in hordes of admirers.

Ozzy Osborne was born in 1948, and grew up in the Aston area of Birmingham. He co-founded the pioneering heavy metal band Black Sabbath, and rose to prominence in the 1970s as their lead vocalist. After being fired by the band in 1979 due to his problems with alcohol and drugs, he began a solo music career and later became a reality television star. Ozzy died in late July 2025. He had remained for decades a much loved son of Birmingham, and it was clear during our visit there shortly after his death that the pain caused by his passing was still raw.

Heavy metal music is not really my thing, but one song by Black Sabbath is etched into my memory. Released in 1970, Paranoid is a bitter, gut-wrenching exploration of depression and despair. The lyrics are as follows:

Finished with my woman ’cause
She couldn’t help me with my mind
People think I’m insane because
I am frowning all the time

All day long I think of things
But nothing seems to satisfy
Think I’ll lose my mind
If I don’t find something to pacify

Can you help me
Occupy my brain?
Oh yeah

I need someone to show me
The things in life that I can’t find
I can’t see the things that make
True happiness, I must be blind

Make a joke and I will sigh
And you will laugh and I will cry
Happiness I cannot feel
And love to me is so unreal

And so as you hear these words
Telling you now of my state
I tell you to enjoy life
I wish I could but it’s too late

Source: LyricFind

Ozzy didn’t write the lyrics Paranoid – they were the work of bandmate Geezer Butler – but did create the melody. His early years were very challenging, and Ozzy said later that as a teenager he attempted suicide on multiple occasions. Perhaps this is why his performance as lead vocalist on Paranoid is so powerful. You can listen to Ozzy doing his stuff by clicking on the following YouTube link.

Birmingham lost one of its favourite sons when Ozzy Osborne died on 22 July, just 17 days after what had been billed as his final live performance. He clearly remains close to the heart of the people of his home city, a genuine working class hero. Rest in Peace, Ozzy.