At about noon yesterday, Julian Opie was standing near the corner of Broadway and Warren Street in Lower Manhattan fixing a plastic-tape barrier around his two cars sitting on the sidewalk.

The cars – actually aluminum sculptures that are part of his new public art exhibit to be unveiled today around the perimeter of City Hall – quickly drew the attention of pedestrians.

As Mr. Opie stood nearby, two people approached, tapped the exterior of a sculpture that resembles a red Volkswagen hatchback, caressed the side door, and walked away, chatting about the design.

When asked whether it was difficult to watch as the first of what will undoubtedly be thousands of strangers touch and analyze his work, he laughed and said: “It’s going to be here for a year so there’s no point in me making a fuss now.”

Dressed in blue jeans and a puffy winter vest, Mr. Opie, a British painter and sculptor who about a year ago was commissioned to complete the city’s latest public art exhibit, said he was excited about his first outdoor show in America.

“It’s nicer than being in a gallery in some ways,” he said yesterday. “You know a gallery is very clean, and white, and cut off, and quiet. Here you are really bouncing off all of the surroundings, all of the real buildings, and real people, and real cars.”

The exhibit, titled “Julian Opie: Animals, Buildings, Cars, and People,” includes nine installations and more than two dozen individual sculptures, ranging from grazing farm animals to sexy, statuesque women painted on sleek glass sheets. It is being sponsored by the Forest City Ratner Companies through the nonprofit Public Art Fund, which is funded by private donations and the city and state.

At the north end of the exhibit, mounted on the steps of the Tweed Courthouse on Chambers Street, are two electronic boards with orange diode images of pedestrians, one male and one female, walking at full throttle. They are called “Bruce Walking” and “Sara Walking.” Yesterday, passersby huddled around the blurbs posted to explain the eye-catching sculptures.

A little farther east, at the corner of Chambers and Centre streets, six boards, planted in the ground like campaign signs, bear images of fluffy white sheep that appear to be grazing in a triangular patch of grass.

Fifty yards down, just before the entrance to the east gate of City Hall, sits a cluster of six aluminum skyscrapers called “City?” An installation called “Village” includes several gingerbread like houses with peaked blue roofs and sits along the edge of City Hall Park; inside are more animals.

“Sometimes you hear wacky comments, like, ‘Why didn’t they get real sheep?’ ” Mr. Opie said. “But for the most part people have been positive.”