Mass Transit Public Art

by Robert Boyd


Tom Otterness, Life Underground, 2001, bronze

When I was in New York, I saw a pretty delightful (and slightly subversive) piece of public art in the subway stations where the A,C and E lines intersect with the L line. This is Life Underground by Tom Otterness. Instead of being one big piece, it consists of a bunch of little pieces spread throughout the two stations. The subversive aspect is that it features these little top-hatted figures with money-bags for faces who are alternately oppressing other figures (workers and beggars) or being eaten by alligators. The workers are shown building things but also sawing at the I-beams that support the ceilings.


Tom Otterness, Life Underground, 2001, bronze


Tom Otterness, Life Underground, 2001, bronze


Tom Otterness, Life Underground, 2001, bronze


Tom Otterness, Life Underground, 2001, bronze


Tom Otterness, Life Underground, 2001, bronze


Tom Otterness, Life Underground, 2001, bronze


Tom Otterness, Life Underground, 2001, bronze


Tom Otterness, Life Underground, 2001, bronze


Tom Otterness, Life Underground, 2001, bronze

I passed through these stations twice. It's a very busy interchange. But what I noticed was that despite the fact that these little bronze statues are everywhere, people weren't looking at them. Only I, the obvious tourist with a camera, seemed to notice them. And why should everyday commuters notice them--they've seen them hundreds of times. The first few times they might register, but after a while they become part of the background noise.

I think this a problem with transit-oriented art. It's guaranteed to eventually become invisible to the very people it was created for. For example, how many people driving on I-45 through downtown Houston notice the Buffalo Bayou Torches by Paul Kittleson?  I don't know if there is a solution--it may be that this art always exists to be seen the first time you pass it, but not so much every subsequent time.





 

Some People View Art Through Politics-Colored Specs

by Robert Boyd

Two recent news stories got me thinking about how politics colors people's vision of art, especially people from outside the art world. (Not that politics isn't important inside the art world, but our politics are often so parochial that to outsiders they may appear meaningless.) First was the story U.S. District Judge Vanessa Gilmore who was offended by a painting by Alexandre Hogue, The Diana Docking reported in The Houston Press.


Alexandre Hogue, The Diana Docking, 1941

Alexandre Hogue was a Dallas painter who worked in a social realist style. A lot of his works were dust bowl farm landscapes--the absence of people in them was a powerful message of the ravages of drought on poor farmers during the 30s. He and fellow painter Jerry Bywaters painted a mural series depicting the history of the Houston Ship Channel for a Post Office building here in Houston in 1941. They were removed sometime in the late 50s and early 60s (possibly because of their pro-labor messages) and then rediscovered in 1975. They were then installed in the Federal Court Building.

Gilmore's objection is to the depiction of the shirtless black man. She states

I brought a boy scout troop here over the holidays to earn their citizenship badge and while I was very proud to show them the historical time line with information about our court, it was rather awkward to have to walk them past the old, antiquated murals with pictures of shirtless black men hauling wood and bales of cotton. It said nothing about our court except that maybe we are too insensitive or oblivious to let some of these images die. We finally managed to get these dreadful images out of the lobby. Now can we please retire them for good. ('Some Judges Want Paintings of "Shirtless Black Men Hauling...Bales of Cotton" Removed from Courthouse,' The Houston Press, February 9, 2012) 

I can understand her discomfort, but on the other hand, it's a true depiction. Ironically, these murals were progressive at the time they were painted. In this way, it's a little like the controversy about Nigger Jim from Huckleberry Finn. Huckleberry Finn is notable because of the humanity it gives to Jim, but now it is difficult to teach because of the word "nigger." I am opposed to bowdlerization, but I understand why the issue exists. (Another judge, Kieth Ellison, added that he shared Gilmore's concerns but also felt that the murals are "bad art." I can't say I agree with him since I haven't seen all of the murals, but The Diana Docking is a really awkward painting. It's not a good example of Hogue's work. Google it and you'll see what I'm talking about.)

But even if Judges Gilmore and Ellison have a point, I can't help but be reminded of the Maine labor mural controversy. In 2011, the governor of Maine, Paul LePage, ordered the removal of a mural from the lobby of the Department of Labor. LePage was elected as part of the Tea Party wave of ultraconservative politicians who gained office in 2010.


Judy Taylor, Maine Department of Labor Mural panels 1-3, paint on MDO board, 8' x 12' (this section)

Judy Taylor's 2007 mural depicted the history of the labor movement positively, which conflicts with LePage's views. LePage's political perspective is probably quite a bit different from Ellison's and Gilmore's. But if Gilmore succeeds in getting the Hogue and Bywater murals removed, what she will share politically with LePage is censorship. And whether you agree with the censorship in either case probably will have something to do with your political perspective.

A recent piece in the Art Newspaper shows what happens when this attitude spreads. The new right-wing government of Hungary has pushed through a new constitution that many consider anti-democratic. In addition to this and many other alarming actions the government has taken, it is asserting itself in the aesthetic realm.

Last month, to celebrate the official inauguration of the constitution, [Prime Minister Viktor] Orban opened a government-organised exhibition at the National Gallery. It chronicles 1,000 years of Hungarian history, focusing on sovereign statehood and Christ­ian­ity (until 16 August). The show includes 15 large state-commissioned canvases depicting important historic events spanning 150 years, including an image of Orban. ("Hungary's Government Tightens the Grip on Arts," The Art Newspaper, February 9, 2012)

This kind of outright propaganda is a little disturbing, although most governments engage in this kind of thing to one degree or another. But combine this with acts of censorship, and you start to have the artistic signs of authoritarianism.

A row broke out in March last year over an image of Hungary’s interwar leader, Miklos Horthy, at the Holocaust Memorial Centre. The state secretary, Andras Levente Gal, said that the picture unjustifiably linked Hungary to the deportation of Jews to Nazi concentration camps and asked that the display be “re-evaluated”. “This kind of historical inaccuracy creates unnecessary tension,” Gal said. His remarks prompted an outcry among some historians and the liberal press. Matters deteriorated when the government relieved Laszlo Harsanyi, the director of the centre, and his chief historical adviser, Judit Molnar, of their positions. ("Hungary's Government Tightens the Grip on Arts," The Art Newspaper, February 9, 2012)

(Hungary had a pro-German government throughout most of World War II, but Hungary'santisemitic  fascist movement, The Arrow Cross, was outlawed. Germany fell out with the government of Hungary in 1944 and invaded. Arrow Cross was legalized and put in charge of Budapest, where they were able to aid in the deportation of 400,000 Hungarian Jews to the German extermination camps. The participation in this deportation of members of the Hungarian government and police forces is a historical fact. However, Horthy largely prevented deportations from happening as long as he was President.)

As soon as an artist takes an art commission from a government, she sets her art up to be judged politically--and that judgment may happen long after she have departed the scene. People with political power often have underdeveloped beliefs regarding openness and freedom. individual instances of censorship increase as political winds change. But when the political winds shift towards the authoritarian or fascist, as they appear to be doing in Hungary, art as a whole becomes a tool of the state.

Art at the Houston Permitting Center

by Robert Boyd


Do you read Swamplot? (You should--it's one of Houston's most consistently entertaining blogs.) Every year they vote for "the Swampies", voting on various architectural, development, and planning/anti-planning successes and fiascoes in the Houston metro area. One Swampie is "Most Notable Recycling Effort"--a vote for the best remodelling/refurbishing/repurposing project in Houston. And on the top of the ballot this year is the Houston Permitting Center--and the voting seems to be favoring it. (Voting closes on December 27.) Pretty much everyone who has seen this has been impressed.



The Houston Permitting Center

What is it? It used to be a warehouse, and many who saw it described it as an eyesore. It's on the very end of Washington, next to the Amtrack station. The City of Houston decided to turn this building into their new Permitting Center. This is where contractors go to get the various permits they need for building projects. The city hired Studio RED to design the Center. The City devotes a 1.75% of capital improvements to art.  So for an expensive project like this, that's a shitload of money for art. Mary Margaret Hansen won the commission, but it wasn't a single piece of art she put up. Instead, working with 12 artists, she put art everywhere inside and outside the building.

Hansen is a compulsive blogger--she has a personal blog and seems to start up a new blog every time she starts a new project. I like this--it builds anticipation, and informs people about the process and the progress of the project. Her blog about the Permitting Center is worth reading, but reading it as the project unfolded was the ideal way to experience it.




interior of the Houston Permitting Center, first floor

The first art you see on the inside is this:



This is the information desk. Most of the art is labeled, but I couldn't find one for these decorative silhouettes.



Kaneem Smith, Remnant Reverie, 2011

The name plaque for this piece by Kaneem Smith instructs viewers to "please touch."

As I walked further towards the south end of the first floor, I saw these:




I thought at first they were a large art installation, but what they in fact are are demonstration models of various construction materials. But just behind them is this:



Dan Havel and Dean Ruck, Torrent (detail), 2011

This is the first "indoor" piece I've ever seen by Havel and Ruck. It definitely gives on the impression of flotsam being carried away by a flood. Kind of a weird item for a building that is mainly concerned with building things (although the Permitting Center also issues demolition permits).Even though they are using recycled material in this piece, it seems ironically to suggest that this is the end-state of all this construction that happens in Houston. It's an evergreen notion:

"My name is OZYMANDIAS, King of Kings."
Look on my works ye Mighty, and despair!
No thing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that Colossal Wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Gonzo247, Information Highway, 2011



Gonzo247, Sunset in the City, 2011

Of the two Gonzo247 pieces, I prefer sunset in the city. It feels closer to a traditional graffiti piece. Also I like the irony--sunset often being associated with a quiet time, but in his work, he implies that the city comes alive at night. It has a jazzy urban feel that in some ways recalls Start Davis.



Mary Margaret Hansen, Overheard, 2011

Hansen spent time at the old permitting office listening to the phrases people used. Then she created this word collage out of her research. I've heard through the grapevine that she is irked that they put chairs in front of the piece. No artist likes to have their work covered up. But the Houston Permitting Center is not a museum--it's a working office. Things like this are to be expected. And I thought it had an unexpected aesthetic benefit. In my photograph, it feels like the piece is mirroring the actual thoughts of the guy sitting in front of it with his rolled-up plans and paperwork.



Jesse Sifuentes, View from the East, 2011

A lot of the work so far seems to reflect the bustle of both the Center and of the City, which is appropriate. The Permitting Center is about Houston in transition: tearing down, transforming, building up. You hear a soundtrack of chopped and screwed hip hop or grindcore. Not so with this pretty line of magnolias by Jesse Sifuentes.We're still clearly in an urban environment, but Sifuentes is reminding us of one of Houston's glories--its abundant trees.



Geoff Winningham, Fishing at Allen's Landing on Buffalo Bayou, 2001

The most subtle pieces are Geoff Winningham's photos, which are somehow printed on metal.Winningham too shows a quiet side of the city, but with the reflection in the still water, he reminds the viewer that they are in an urban space--indeed in the very heart of the city. The shadows, the reflection, the silhouette of the fisherman all make this a formally complex photograph. For that reason alone, you could sit and look at it for quite a while. But as a portrait of this city, it also seems perfect. It's timeless--one imagines this scene was common 100 years ago, and it wouldn't be out of place in an old Sig Byrd column.

There are several other artworks in the building and outside. The Houston Permitting Center strikes me as an exemplary example of how to use the 1.75% of capital costs for art. And I say this in a city that is full of squandered art dollars (ahem Tolerance ahem Open Channel Flow).

A Tomb Grows at Rice University

by Robert Boyd (Rice BA, 1992, MBA 2008)

You have probably heard about the big new James Turrell thing being built at Rice. Called Skyspace (he couldn't come up with a new title?), it will sit in front of the Shepherd School in the no-man's land between the Jones School and the Baker Institute. This is what it's supposed to look like.



James Turrell, rendering of Skyspace

Here's another imaginary photograph of it:



James Turrell, Skyspace, Pomona College

Ha! Fooled you. (Fooled me, too, initially. A reader with good eyes pointed out my error.) That is a photo of another James Turrell Skyspace, made in 2007 at Pomona College. He's going to keep making them until he gets it right, I guess (or until people stop paying him to). Ours is currently being built. Here it is last night (I was over at Rice for a class and for the latest Rice Gallery show).



James Turrell, Skyspace, under construction



James Turrell, Skyspace, under construction

It looks like a tomb for a minor Sumerian tyrant. It really does have the look of an ancient burial mound. Instead, it will be apparently used as a musical performance space for Shepherd School students. I guess that's because concert spaces are something that they lack, unless you count this or this.

Skyspace is prominent on Rice Public Art, a new website (new to me, at least). This is a good thing to have because Rice's campus has a lot of interesting art on it, and this website provides a stroller with a guide. There's just one problem--it's incomplete. It lists nine pieces, including one in Fondren Library and one in the BioScience Research Collaborative that I don't know are accessible to the general public (I'll go check them out and report back). But it doesn't list Jim Love's Paul Bunyan Bouquet in the courtyard of Lovett College (is it gone?!) and most bizarrely, it doesn't list Willy's statue--the statue of William Marsh Rice right smack dab in the middle of the main quad.

It's like they are only interested in showing off their newest public art (although the Heizer piece has been there for a long time).

Since we have pieces by two of the big-name Earthworks guys at Rice, we should go for four-of-a-kind and get pieces by Nancy Holt and Walter de Maria.

Lots of Art at the Houston Permitting Center

by Robert Boyd

After my last depressing post, I want to cheer readers up a little. I follow a blog called the Rockbridge Times written by artist Mary Margaret Hansen. You should put it on your RSS feed. She doesn't post frequently, but it's always good when she does. And this post from last week was an eye-opener.

The Houston Permitting Center on Washington Ave. is where you go to get all those pesky permits the city requires (although I think the city is working to put as much of that online as possible). When they decided to refurbish the old building, they hired Studio RED as the architects. I don't know if Studio RED hired Hansen to coordinate the art, or if the city did--in any case, Hansen was in charge of putting together a lot of art for the building, working closely with Studio RED. And it looks like it will be fantastic when it's done. Here's some of the art in progress:



The piece above is a Havel & Ruck mural.



Here is Gonzo 247 doing a mural for the parking garage (I think).



Geoff Winningham has some photos blown up and printed on metal. (Winningham was a professor of mine at Rice.)

There's lots more at Rockbridge Times. This project reminds me of Second Seating, a big installation Hansen did in 2009 where she also corralled a bunch of artists into doing their own bits. Hansen is somewhere between a curator, an impresario and a conductor for this. I can't wait til it's finished. As much as I would normally want to avoid the Permitting Center, this stuff will make it worth the visit.

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Candy Chang's Before I Die

by Robert Boyd

Before I Die, a public art installation in New Orleans by Candy Chang, is one of the most inspiring pieces of public art I've ever seen.


Candy Chang, Before I Die, installation with chalkboards and chalk, 2011. (Photo from Candy Chang's website.)


Candy Chang, Before I Die detail, installation with chalkboards and chalk, 2011. (Photo from Candy Chang's website.)


Candy Chang, Before I Die detail, installation with chalkboards and chalk, 2011. (Photo from Candy Chang's website.)


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Elaine Bradford at Vinson Neighborhood Library

Vinson Neighborhood Library is located on Fuqua in the far south. It's just inside the Beltway, in a neighborhood I have never visited. It's a weird part of town--if you drive north on Almeda from there, you will see undeveloped land and pasturage. But there are plenty of single family homes and apartments near the library, which also shares a building with a multi-service center.The way the building is set up, you will see Elaine Bradford's whimsical installation whether you are visiting the library or the multi-service center.

I like it when Houston art ends up way outside the usual locations. Otherwise, it's so concentrated inside the Loop. Anyway, I took a little field trip out to the Vinson Neighborhood Library and snapped a few photos. You can read about Bradford's library project here. And you can see many more photos of the installation here.














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Lawn Art and Plop Art Photos

I took a few photos of public sculpture this weekend. None of these wow me, personally, but I like the fact that they exist. I'd rather have them where they are than not have them there.

Anyone who has ever had coffee at the Art League has probably noticed this abstract piece in front of apartments at the corner of Montrose and Bomar.



Here is another view.



Does anyone know who the artist is or what the sculpture is called?

Up in Stude Park is an enormous metal sculpture that probably everyone driving west from Downtown on I-10 has seen.


Mac Whitney, Houston, steel and paint, 1981

It is called Houston and it's by an artist named Mac Whitney.


Mac Whitney, Houston, steel and paint, 1981

Finally, at the corner of  Bayland and Morrison up in the Heights is a piece of metal lawn art.



It's kind of a curving broom-like structure on a tripod with a spring around its base.



If anyone knows what this is called or who the artist is, please let me know!