I'm part of the global warming problem. I have a ~30 mile commute to work, and I drive it solo, four days a week. I drive a '95 Camry, not some idiotic suburban assault vehicle — and I work at home one day a week — but still, it's a long drive. Oh yeah, this post isn't about being green. My point is this: the drive is boring as all hell.
I miss the days when my commute (which took the same ~45 minutes) involved bus and/or subway, and I could just read, or write, or people watch, or zone out to my Walkman (yes, it's been that long since I last worked vaguely near public transportation), or all four at the same time. But driving (well) takes some modicum of concentration, and listening to NPR, or a good college station, or AM hate radio, only gets me so far. So I listen to podcasts and audio books, and what have you. Of course, the scenery still sucks.
That is, but for several hundred yards of what might otherwise be the most uninspired part of the commute — a down-in-the-mouth bit of traffic-choked local roadway alongside I-93. Because brightening up that bit of the drive is one of my favorite painted murals of all time.
As far as I am concerned, the Mystic River Mural (yeah, that Mystic River) is the second most successful piece of public art I've had the pleasure to experience (more on the first, below). Its success in this case is due mostly to the improvement of its blah surroundings (it's literally sandwiched between a community housing project and the interstate), its staying power (new sections are added each year), and the fact that it plays such a refreshing role in my daily commute.
Public art should be just that: widely viewable, well-executed, and aesthetically accessible. Even some of the graffiti writers create great public art. (Also appreciated on many a commute.) Wish I had some better pics to link to for some old school Philly faves, but suffice to name-check "Mr. Blint" and leave it there. Dude could paint.
This mural — which stretches several hundred yards, and covers up nothing but ugly concrete reinforcement walls — actually achieves its clear mission every day, which is to remind those who take the time to see it, that there is an living, flowing river just on the other side of the overpass. The location is the subject matter is the message.
Hands down, the greatest piece of public art I've seen was Olafur Eliasson's "Sun" installation at the Tate Modern in London. Trippy, religious, almost too cool and too powerful for words. It was a feeling, beyond the sheer enormity of the space, which is bigger than most outside of Cape Canaveral.
The Tate Modern is housed in what used to be a mothballed old power plant on the bank of the Thames. The Sun installation played on the building's former life so well, filling the vast, open turbine hall space not just with a glow, but with a low hum that made you wonder if the plant was still cranking out electricity, or if it could be the "sun" itself.
At its core, the piece (now long gone) was about raw power: of the sun, of electricity, of art; the powers of perception, suggestion, and even group inertia. It drew you in — literally (the photo at right is what I saw upon entering the museum), and figuratively (respectable people lay down on the floor, as if sunbathing, basking in the yellowness and warmth).
It immediately made me want to get to museums more often; made me wish more art was transcendent, had vision, had balls, had an audience. What I liked most about the Sun was that it was free. The old turbine hall is essentially one of the world's great foyers. You needn't pay a pence to come inside and hang out.
One of the brilliant things about The Internets and our new global world is that art is increasingly more accessible than ever. The best of the best are no longer locked up in castles or salons or museums, or even in expensive textbooks.
Back in the day, NYC graffiti writers dreamt of painting "all-city" trains, so their sometimes fantastic murals could be seen in all boroughs. Nowadays we have whole marketing teams concerned with tracking "eyeballs," and we can count unique visitors to sites, exhibits, etc. Nowadays, the talk is about going viral, or going global.
Bring it on. Paintings to the people!
More of my Tate Modern "Sun" installation pics.
The subject is fully clear but why does the text lack clarity? But in general your blog is great.
Posted by: gualetar | March 21, 2010 at 06:47 PM