Udderly Delightful: Meet the Alum Behind ‘CowParade’

Jerry Elbaum ’61, JD ’64, founded the organization that mounts bovine-themed public art shows in cities around the globe

“Bear Hugs” celebrates heartwarming stories of Cornellians on the Hill and around the world. Have an idea? Email us at cornellians@cornell.edu!

By Beth Saulnier

The cows started parading back in the summer of 1999—and for more than a quarter century, they’ve pretty much never stopped. That year saw the debut of an outdoor exhibit in Chicago in which some 300 life-sized fiberglass bovines were transformed into works of art.

It was a sensation, spurring tourism and raising money for charity.

There have been cows dressed like Harry Potter on a broomstick (in London); like Superman (in West Hartford, CT, where Elbaum lives); and as a scuba diver (in Denver, and punnily named “Jacques Moosteau”).

A cow in Harrisburg, PA, sat upright on a park bench, wearing a business suit and reading the newspaper. In Chicago, a bright green bovine with two heads evoked Doublemint gum.

It’s a happy event. It brings smiles to people’s faces.

And in Costa Rica—where ziplining is a popular tourist activity—a cow was suspended high above the ground, clad in a helmet and safety vest.

“The cow is common to virtually every culture in the world,” Elbaum observes, in answer to the oft-asked question of why the animal makes such an apt canvas. “It does good things for us. It’s friendly, it’s quirky—and artists love it.”

For Elbaum, it all started in Zurich, Switzerland. An attorney, he went on a business trip there in fall 1998, when the city happened to be hosting an outdoor exhibit of artistically painted cows as a way to draw visitors downtown.

It struck Elbaum’s fancy. And when he learned that a Chicago businessman was equally enamored of it and wanted to bring it to his home city—but didn’t relish organizing it—the former Arts & Sciences history major found his calling.

The cow is common to virtually every culture in the world.

While the original Windy City show was a massive hit, the project really got moo-ving in 2000, when an NYC version featured nearly 500 cows spread across all five boroughs.

“It was such an extravaganza, and it required so much of my time that I had to leave the practice of law,” recalls Elbaum—who, at 85, has since passed much of CowParade’s day-to-day operations to his son-in-law. “It became a full-time commitment.”

Cows on Parade In …

In the intervening decades, CowParade has held shows all over the world—collaborating with local partners and sponsors in countries from China to Mexico.

(And there have been numerous copycat exhibits over the years, featuring a host of creatures: elephants, bears, dolphins, lions, dragons, and more.)

CowParade raises money for charity in a variety of ways, including auctioning off the sculptures—which have gone for as much as $150,000—and selling collectible figurines of some of the designs.

The show even came back to the Big Apple in 2021, when its 78 sculptures benefitted the meal charity God’s Love We Deliver.

As a New York Times headline then observed, wryly noting the fate that had befallen some of the artwork two decades earlier: “Cow Parade Returns to NYC, but Please Don’t Steal Them This Time.”

To participate in a CowParade show, each artist must submit a proposal detailing their design. The winners receive—among other benefits—an honorarium and a flurry of media attention for their work.

And many artists are eager to be chosen: for an event in Old Sturbridge Village, MA, in summer 2025, nearly 300 hopefuls from throughout New England applied for 28 spots.

CowParade has held shows all over the world—collaborating with local partners and sponsors in countries from China to Mexico.

The project’s “blank” bovines are made of white fiberglass by a company in California.

(Why do they have horns, if they’re female? As Elbaum points out, many breeds have them, but they’re generally removed in calfhood; CowParade depicts the animals in their natural state, and the horns offer another artistic element.)

The blank cows come in two poses—head up or down—although some artists opt to alter their structure, as in the sculpture titled 1959 Cowdillac, whose tail end was transformed into classic car fins.

As Elbaum explains: while there was originally a third basic form—in which the animal was lying down—it was eventually phased out, for practical reasons.

“We found that the reclining cows would get badly damaged,” he says, “because kids would crawl all over them.”

Top: 1959 Cowdillac in West Hartford, CT. (All images provided)

Published July 8, 2025

---

Comments

1. 

   Joseph Kirschner, Class of 1993

   8 Jul, 2025

   I had not realized a Cornellian founded this wonderful organization. I still have a 2002 “NYC Taxi” themed yellow cab figurine cow displayed in my house. I will appreciate it even more now.

   Reply

Other stories You may like

• 

  • Alumni

  Remembering the Cornellian Who Broke Racial Barriers in Math

• 

  • Campus & Beyond

  Stemming the Tide of Textile Waste

• 

  • Campus & Beyond

  At Carl Sagan’s Final Resting Place, Admirers Pay Homage