I watched the wonderful documentary ‘Man on a wire’ the other day. This story of Frenchman Philippe Petit’s determined effort to tightrope walk between the Twin Towers in New York was incredibly powerful. During 1974 he plotted and planned until he was able to rig his wire between the tops of the Twin Towers. He then spent over an hour practising his art of wire-walking.
Apart from the jaw dropping visual aspects of this film one of the other things that struck me was Philippe’s reaction to the questions posed by the American Journalists. He couldn’t understand that the only question that they asked was, ”Why had he done it?” For him, the beauty of the act was justification itself. This is a typical Gaelic reaction but it reminded me of the dilemma that we face in this country when we begin to look into the subject of public art.
In this country we seem to be culturally programmed to react negatively to public art, particularly when it doesn’t conform to our perception of how it should look. We might, as with the new tribute to the Queen Mother, readily accept a public monument. The key to this acceptance however seems to be based upon some simple reference points. It must be easily recognisable, accurately rendered, and show an obvious level of artist skill.
These easily digestible forms of public art at best provide us with a moment of contemplation before they slip back into the visual landscape. Clearly there is a place for monuments and statues and often, as in the case of the tributes to Bobby Moore or Eric Morecambe they can be fondly received by the general public. But is this really what Public Art should be about? It seems that whenever a proposal is put forward that falls outside of these accepted reference points it is met with large amounts of apathy and quite often a lot of vitriol. It generally starts with a graphic in the local newspaper that describes the loose concept and the artist’s vision. With large projects they might be illustrated next to the universally recognised unit of measurement, the double decker bus.
These articles will typically attract comments from readers that create a nickname for the work and question the cost of the project. Often the ‘ridiculous’ sums of money involved will be compared to another unit of measurement, one that seems unique to public art projects, the kidney dialysis machine.
Like donating ill gotten gains to a worthy cause, it’s an underhand argument that’s difficult to disagree with. A person’s quality of life compared to an inanimate object with no pre-defined purpose. It’s difficult even to play devil’s advocate. Except that it is rare that this logic is applied to other walks of life, the cost of a packet of cigarettes could save lives through the medicine it could pay for, the cost of a new pair of shoes could prevent the contamination of a water supply in a third world country, the cost of gathering 22 players and 70000 fans together to watch a 90min football match, well you get the idea?
The point is that Public art projects don’t seem to get the benefit of the doubt that other projects might. Thomas Heatherwick’s ‘B of the Bang’ was like ambrosia to the critics. It doubled in its initial cost from £700000 to £1.4m (about 10 weeks work for Ronaldo) and was two years late in delivery. Then, once installed, one of the spikes fell off, fortunately no one was injured. This resulted in some remedial work and a law suit costing the designers £1.7 million in an out of court settlement. It has now been decided to dismantle the sculpture and remove it to storage.
As with anything in life the trouble created by something needs to be balanced by the ultimate benefit, but the problem with public art is that it is difficult to clearly identify what the benefits are and for whom they are intended. Our current social and cultural climate makes it difficult to engender mass public opinion for large scale art projects. In the past religious or nationalistic forces were called into play. These factors have driven forward some very famous landmarks but nowadays we are left with two key arguments.
The first focuses around economic regeneration, the power of a successful cultural object to attract people to a certain area, or less subtly, the use of an object as a branding exercise for a city or region. There is plenty of evidence that this works, but the key issue that is often over looked is that it tends to only work once, for one area. It is the sheer surprise and innovation that is the attraction.
Around 1988 Leeds had the opportunity to install an Antony Gormley sculpture of a 35m (7 double decker busses) brick man. The potential benefits of this kind of work were little understood at that time and opposition from the local press and councillors eventually cancelled the project. It is not difficult to imagine what benefits the city might have gained from it; at the very least it would be a better claim to fame than having a Harvey Nics.
Justifying art projects through the financial benefits they might bring seems to make sense. ‘B of the Bang’ might have been worth all of the trouble and the £1.4 million if it brought in for example £10millon of additional investments, but there are other less risky ways of achieving the same result.
The second argument is that its ‘art for arts sake’. This brings me back to the original thought; we as a nation do not generally buy into the concept of ‘art for arts’ sake. Perhaps this is a hang up from our Victorian past when understanding art was a mark of Education and we are overly conscious of falling for the emperor’s new clothes. We still associate art with the upper class, the airy fairy ideas of those that don’t work for a living. This is a particular problem for public art which is not only intended to be all inclusive; it also presents itself to a captive audience and then indirectly charges them for the privilege. This problem is perpetuated when the art needs to function as art. Today’s artists are hamstrung by all of the history that has gone before them, their quest for originality and a well structured if little understood process of critical analysis. For the most challenging of contemporary artists the gulf between their work and the general public perception of art is wide. This makes it difficult to justify public art as a platform for ‘art for arts sake’.
With the economical argument risky and the art based argument too weak to justify the often difficult teething problems of public art projects it seems that public art will remain a controversial and difficult subject.
What is clear is that art pieces that do succeed only push gently at our understanding of what public art should be, the Angel of the North is essentially human in form and it’s easy to understand as a large statue. Even when an artist’s work falls outside of the establishment, for example Banksy’s work; it still conforms to these unwritten reference points, recognisable figures, populist political opinions and a level of artistic skill.
Even the latest and most ambitious public art scheme seems to be conforming nicely. The proposal for a 50m high (10 double decker busses) horse at Ebbsfleet beat off proposals for an inside-out concrete house, cubes intercepted by a laser and a disc and wing. High ho Silver anybody?
Public art seems to be a nagging thought at the back of our minds, we know it should be part of our public realm but why we do it and what it should look like seems to elude us. Perhaps there is a way to simplify this angst. Perhaps we should restrict our objectives, stop worrying about the economical benefits or the quality of the concept and settle for a simply beautiful object or an awe inspiring structure.
