Public Sculpture Examining The Differences Between Contemporary Sculpture Inside and Outside The Art Institution
Public Sculpture Examining The Differences Between Contemporary Sculpture Inside and Outside The Art Institution
Public Sculpture Examining The Differences Between Contemporary Sculpture Inside and Outside The Art Institution
Abstract
This text explores three main differences between a sculpture installed within
a museum and a sculpture installed in public space. It analyses the institutional
framework, the relationship between the viewer and the artwork, the nature of
the audience. The authors argue that there are key differences that require
correspondingly different ways of understanding, conceiving and making
sculptural projects in public space.
When installed in public space, art encounters a whole new environment:
conventional museum procedures and attitudes are no longer applicable.
Sculptures installed in public space lack clear institutional reference points
that would confer them the status of art, so they automatically settle in beside
other urban objects, in a diffuse and mixed zone. New approaches must be
found that take into account the specificities of public space, the local context
and the establishing of dialogue with the local community. Moreover, the
evaluation of these projects should depart from mere aesthetic considerations
and take on board ideas and methodologies from other disciplines. With
regards to a broadened, diversified and participatory audience, it would make
only sense to involve them as an intrinsic part of a more collaborative notion
of sculpture and public art.
Keywords: Public sculpture, context, audience, participatory art,
contemporary art
Resumen
Este texto investiga las principales diferencias entre una escultura instalada en
el espacio público y la misma instalada dentro del museo, analizando el marco
institucional, la relación espectador-obra, y la naturaleza de la audiencia en
ambos casos. Los autores sostienen que existen diferencias sustanciales que
requerirían implementar modos diferentes de entender, concebir o realizar
proyectos escultóricos en el espacio público.
Cuando se instala en el espacio público, el arte confronta un contexto
totalmente nuevo: ya no sirven los procedimientos habituales del museo. Las
esculturas instaladas en el exterior carecen del marco institucional que les
confiera el estatus de arte, pasando automáticamente a ser parte de una zona
difusa y mixta, junto a los otros objetos urbanos. Se necesitan nuevos enfoques
que tengan en cuenta las especificidades del espacio público, el contexto local,
y que establezcan un proceso de diálogo con la comunidad. Además, la
evaluación de estos proyectos debe emanciparse de la pura estética,
incorporando ideas y metodologías de otras disciplinas. Y con respecto a un
nuevo tipo de audiencia: expandida, diversificada y participativa, sería lógico
involucrarla como parte intrínseca en proyectos basados en una noción más
colaborativa de escultura y arte público.
Palabras clave: Escultura pública, contexto, audiencia, arte participativo, arte
contemporáneo
The awareness of the need to adapt to the new situation appears only after
some time and a number of controversies. The most notable of these
controversial artworks would probably be Richard Serra's Tilted Arc, installed
1981 in Federal Plaza in New York. According to Finkelpearl (2000),
immediately after installation people who worked in the nearby offices began
to complain that the enormous structure blocked views and paths. There was
a campaign to remove the sculpture, which initially proved unsuccessful. But
when Ronald Reagan became president of the United States in 1984, he
appointed a new republican administration throughout the federal bureaucracy
and the case of Tilted Arc was reopened. The trial became a “battle” between
leftist intellectuals against the workers from the Federal Building, including
secretaries, managers, lawyers, and government workers, also from nearby
buildings. Serra testified that the sculpture was site-specific, and that
removing it from its site would destroy the artwork. Part of the defence
claimed that works of art required time before they would be understood by
the broader public. The workers felt insulted by such claims and were
252 Fernández, Llobet & Viladomiu – Public Art?
outraged that they were treated as ignorant. Finally, Serra lost the trial and the
artwork was dismantled in 1989 (Finkelpearl, 2000, p. 60-79). Tilted Arc was
defined by some art critics as an arrogant gesture by the artist, a “sculpture
imposed from above” (Lippard, 1997, p. 265) and one that appeared
threatening and intimidating. Many others in the art world defended it. But
“while Serra had been a ‘process artist’, the process never included a two-way
public dialogue” (Finkelpearl, 2000, p. 65). Serra's trial is cited as the most
notorious controversy surrounding a public sculpture, and shook the
foundations of public art. In turn, the field came to recognise the need to adapt
to new ways of working in order to avoid similar disputes. “The ripple effect
of the Tilted Arc controversy was great (...) in 1990, there had been a re-
evaluation of public art in the United States. Administrators all over the
country revised their procedures for commissioning work”. The new premise
stated that the audience “must be included in the process” (Finkelpearl, 2000,
p. 65). The controversy with Tilted Arc demonstrated how certain aspects are
essential to the conception and making of a public art project: the importance
of considering the context and establishing a dialogue with the community,
the need to include the audience in the process of creation and to calibrate the
reaction of the local community. Art in public space does not work like it
would in a white cube, and Tilted Arc taught us how aesthetics cannot be the
only factor for a successful artwork in public space. The newest art theories
are not as applicable once they are taken outside the museum, given the
ambivalence of “art” as a status in public space.
This brings us to the second difference: the relationship between the viewer
and the sculpture in public space is different than that which takes place within
the museum. And even if museums nowadays increasingly show interactive
and site-specific pieces, there are certain things that can only happen outside
its confines, such as working with communities and relating to local realities.
This includes situation-specific artworks, community engagement, ecological
interventions, activist approaches. But how might we talk about aesthetic
contemplation in these contexts? Cameron (2004, p. 21) writes about a
“distracted viewing” of public art: “While there are many ways of viewing art,
not all of them require voluntary participation on the viewer's part”. We don't
look at public art in the same way we look at museum-art. “Distracted
viewing” doesn't mean invisibility, a diminished interest in public artworks,
or a danger of being taken less seriously. It is simply a different way of looking
BRAC - Barcelona Research Art Creation, 9(3) 253
at and enjoying art, which in our opinion, would make it more similar to the
way we experience architecture or urban design in our cities. Art can happen
anywhere today; it is part of our lives. Enjoying art shouldn’t be restricted to
the occasions when we go to the museum. If under white cube conditions “the
success of the encounter is predicated on having one's attention fully absorbed
by the art on display, to the deliberate exclusion of all surrounding elements
of the visual environment” (Cameron, 2004, p. 21), then we cannot apply the
same framework to public spaces. The idealised conditions of the white cube
are not necessarily part of the art equation anymore, and so the way of looking
at and interpreting art must be different too. This means that traditional
aesthetic contemplation must adapt to public space. And this has a very
interesting consequence: “By catching us unawares, art can have an impact
that might not be possible in an environment where one has consciously
prepared for what one is going to see” (Cameron, 2004, p. 21). Public artworks
can offer a surprise factor that art in museums and indoor art institutions
cannot: a twist in the experiencing of the everyday (Llobet Sarria & Fernández
Pons, 2020, p. 83).
But if “distracted viewing” is a common way of enjoying public art
nowadays, there are also some interesting cases that would bring this way of
looking at art to its extreme consequences: namely, to a self-conscious
invisibility (Llobet Sarria & Fernández Pons, 2020, p. 83). In Renata Lucas'
Kunst-Werke (Cabeça e cauda de cavalo) (2010), the artist cut the sidewalk
and part of the road in a large circular shape of several meters in diameter,
“rotating” it exactly 7.5 degrees anticlockwise. This surreal effect was
accomplished by simply removing all of the paving tiles, cobblestones and
other objects in the pathway and by placing them back a bit further. The
impression of the viewer is that the whole pavement may have really been
spun by some strange force. The artwork was installed at the entrance gate of
KW Institute for Contemporary Art, a central gallery location on
Auguststrasse in Berlin’s Mitte district. While Lucas’ project has some formal
and conceptual reminiscence to Gordon Matta-Clark and Michael Asher, its
poetry and sense of humour set her artwork apart, bringing it into a new
direction. Lucas’ intervention is effectively camouflaged, almost
unnoticeable. And although easily overlooked, those passers-by who do
happen upon the artwork are sure to experience a sense of displacement and
question how and why the floor has been rotated. “Perhaps the most effective
audience for her acts of insurrection, therefore, is the unwary one – the
surprised passerby who can see something is amiss but can’t immediately
explain that ‘something’ with the label of art” (Basciano, 2015). This type of
254 Fernández, Llobet & Viladomiu – Public Art?
intervention shows how public art can catch our attention through “distracted
viewing”: by playing with becoming almost unnoticeable, such works can be
even more significant for those who see them, and so avoid the apparent state
of invisibility of many other art pieces in public space (Llobet Sarria &
Fernández Pons, 2020).
some children's game of throwing a tyre over the top of a pole. Because the
intervention took place months in advance, it was no longer available for view
by the time the exhibition opened. But this didn’t seem to bother Slominski.
What remained of the artwork was only in the memory of the artist and the
workers. And while Ausheben was probably overlooked by most passers-by –
with hardly a trace of the extraordinary work it took to make it happen– the
artist relies on the catalogue of the exhibition so his project won't be ignored
and lost forever. The work of Slominski is exactly about this absurdity: actions
that seem to lead to nothing. The extreme efforts to make this artwork and the
helpless feeling afterwards indicate how an easy action may be much more
difficult to carry out than it first appears. In this case, even “distracted
viewing” is made impossible. As with some other projects by Slominski, it is
not about the result but the process involved in creating the artwork. It is self-
conscious invisibility.
These changes in the relationship between the viewer and the sculpture in
public space require other infrastructural changes in public art, e.g. in the
commissioning of artworks. As Willis (2008, p. 153) asks: “Is it more
practical to adopt the curatorial and education process of museums to
commission public artworks or is public art better served by the procedures
used in architecture and urban design?” New approaches could be useful for
the evaluation of public art projects, too. Artists increasingly work in mixed
disciplines and it would only make sense to broaden art’s scope of evaluation.
According to Rendell (2008, p. 45) “a growing number of artists engage in
territories usually associated with urban design and architecture” and “these
artists adopt design-like working methods, for example, responding to a need
or fixing things that are broken, activities that would usually fit within the
architect’s brief or the repair and maintenance schedule”. How do we deal
with these kind of artworks? A critique of such works based only on artistic
criteria cannot be the answer. Rather, we would need to find and apply new
ways of evaluating public art besides aesthetic concerns, just like lamps,
benches or buildings are evaluated by questions of feasibility, accessibility,
energy efficiency, mobility, adaptability, amenity, legibility, movement, or
permeability.
BRAC - Barcelona Research Art Creation, 9(3) 257
Image 2. Slominski, A. (1996) Ausheben der Laterne für das Umlegen des Reifens
[Raising of Street Lamp for Placing of Tire] [Urban intervention]. Reprinted from
Contemporary sculpture: projects in Münster 1997 (p. 399) [Exhibition’s catalogue].
K. Bußmann, K. König, F. Matzner (eds.) 1997. Gerd Hatje. © 1996 Roman Mensing
and artdoc.de. Reprinted with permission of Roman Mensing.
258 Fernández, Llobet & Viladomiu – Public Art?
Finally, the third difference: the audience for public art is radically different
from that of the museum. Douglas Crimp, one of Richard Serra’s greatest
defenders when he realised Tilted Arc, says in an interview that “people who
come to a museum or who work in a museum are already a specific, self-
selected group, unlike the people who passed by Tilted Arc” (Finkelpearl,
2000, p. 68). So, the audience for public art is not comparable and cannot be
treated the same way as the audience inside the art institution. Lacy (1995)
theorised the nature of new diverse audiences for a type of socially engaged,
interactive public artworks, which she called New Genre Public Art
(N.G.P.A.). Lacy explains how artists have achieved a level of public visibility
never seen before, and that public art includes a “broad and diversified”
audience, all of whom differently contribute to the public debate. Kravagna
(1998, p. 3) refers to this type of art and notes that “the N.G.P.A. is first of all
and primarily interested in a definition of its audience”, reason being that
“local resistance to ‘art in public space’ and the ensuing discussions (see
Serra's ‘Tilted Arc’) showed that the question of the audience had not been
taken seriously enough by the conventional public art programs”.
Today’s audience is “broad and diversified” in nature, and they are grossly
ignored. Another distinctive feature of the public art audience is its inherent
sense of participation. Sheikh (2004) writes about new models and formations
of the public sphere that bring a new participatory model for spectatorship “as
opposed to a (modernist) generalized one”. This means reconfiguring the
public sphere “into a potential multitude of different, overlapping spheres and
formations”. As such, we must acknowledge the “fragmentation and
differentiation of the public sphere on the one hand, and of an expansion
and/or dematerialization of art works on the other” (2004).
An example of participatory audience can be found at Thomas
Hirschhorn's monument projects. Bataille Monument was realized in 2002 at
Nordstadt, a suburb on the periphery of Kassel, as part of Documenta 11. The
project consisted of a series of temporary architectural constructions made out
of ephemeral materials: plywood, packing tape and plastic foil. There was a
TV studio, an information point, a temporary bar operated by a local family,
a thematic library, and a monument sculpture in the shape of a tree, amongst
other things. All these were made possible with the cooperation of local
residents, who also took care of the temporary structures (and were paid for
their work). An interesting part was that visitors could only arrive to the
project using a special taxi shuttle service departing from Documenta. Once
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there, visitors must remain at Hirschhorn’s project until there was an available
return taxi. This created a certain feeling of being stranded in the middle of
nowhere. “Rather than the local populace becoming subject to what he calls
the ‘zoo effect’, Hirschhorn's project made the art public feel like hapless
intruders”. Another interesting point of this project is that it “took the local
inhabitants seriously as potential Bataille readers” (Bishop, 2005, p. 124). All
of Hirschhorn's monument projects seek to make encounters with the oeuvre
of philosophers and thinkers as part of our everyday, though at a different
level than usual. “I make monuments for philosophers because they have
something to say today (…) even if I don’t understand the third part of their
reflexion” (Hirschhorn, 2001, p. 398). Visitors (as much as the artist himself)
are not supposed to understand or share the thinkers’ ideas, but to be
confronted with them. In his proposal text for 24h Foucault, a project that was
presented at Palais de Tokyo in October 2003, Hirschhorn (2006) wrote that
even though he doesn’t know Foucault’s philosophy, “it permits me to
approach it, to not understand it but to seize it, to see it, to be active with it. I
don’t have to be a historian, a connoisseur, a specialist to confront myself”.
Like Bataille Monument, Hirschhorn's other monument projects –Deleuze
Monument (2000), Gramsci Monument (2013), or Robert Walser-Sculpture
(2019)– function collectively as a critique of the very notion of monument.
These are monuments not imposed from above, but created in collaboration
and with the participation of local residents. Additionally, they are not meant
to last forever: they are temporary. “I try to make a new kind of monument. A
precarious monument. A monument for a limited time” (Hirschhorn, 2001, p.
398). For these projects Hirschhorn engages salaried local neighbours
throughout the creation process: they help him build his ephemeral structures
and enliven them with contents and their participation in the many related
programmes.
On a research trip we interviewed Kathleen Bühler (personal
communication, February 25, 2019), curator of Thomas Hirschhorn's Robert
Walser-Sculpture (2019), and she explained how they planned to be on site
for 3 months to realise this project for Schweizerische Plastikausstellungen
Biel (2019). Artist and curator had been working since 2016 on the project
and started 35 cooperations with people from Biel. They had collaborated with
the local networks from the very beginning. If there has been so far little
vandalism in Hirschhorn's previous projects in public space, it is partly
because of this type of cooperation and involvement of the local community.
If community is ignored, in the most acute cases people can react negatively,
even violently towards the artworks. This was precisely the case in the 1980
260 Fernández, Llobet & Viladomiu – Public Art?
or dissemination are owned by the people who use them. And what is
produced is decided by those who produce it”. Transposed to public art, the
democratic mode would result in new models of participation and
collaboration in the creation of art pieces, thus “challenging conventional
power dynamics and hierarchies that sustain the contemporary art world”
(Kwon, 2002).
In our opinion, it would make sense for all public sculpture practices to be
embedded in more democratic processes, instead of getting stuck in
authoritarian positions –or any other ones that presume the existence of an art
knowledge that is superior to the lived experiences of the general public–. It
follows that the selection, production and installation of sculptures in public
space would be transparent and include those who will enjoy –or suffer– the
artworks every day. In other words, sculptures and projects installed in public
spaces must involve the audience as an intrinsic part of more participatory and
collaborative practices. There are ways to steer public art towards a much-
needed democratisation process, including: a selection of projects through
public or semi-public open calls; guidelines that foreground an active
observation of context; the participation of the community in the production
and installation of the work; an evaluation of the neighbours’ assessment of
the work.
Referencias