The proposed Biennale sculpture by Chen Wenling was intended for installation just east of Mahoney’s on a small outcrop of public land – a part of the seawall known to cyclists as a blind corner.
Discussion about that corner first arose when the opposition by some residents in nearby enclaves to the nature and location of the sculpture subsequently spiraled into a Facebook petition. Although only one among many concerns expressed, in the end safety apparently settled the issue.
Public art — and Boy Holding A Shark is no exception — almost always generates strong reactions both for and against, in large part because it is public. Some online comments specifically opposed the very idea as imposing on the lives of others, proposing that the only proper venue for art is inside a gallery where people can choose to view it — or not.
Others, particularly in the neighbourhood, protested that greenspace incorporating water views, trees and gardens is scarce enough in an increasingly high rise city and should be valued in its own right. (Although the adjacent enclave grounds are privately owned, they are, like the courtyards on leasehold land, accessible to everyone).
However, many other comments reflected opposition to this sculpture in particular – and therein lies the rub. The makers and purveyors of public art often say that what they want is to start a conversation. The more that people offer differing, passionate, and even negative interpretations about an artwork, the more they’re realizing a prime public art objective: to bring art itself into people’s day-to-day lives. A failure is when no-one pays any attention at all.
While some residents sent supportive messages to the Biennale (and Between The Bridges), the opposing online petition attracted almost 500 signatories from the social media world. Included were numerous comments on the sculpture in question as a work of art. “Ugly” was the most commonly-used word. Others included “hideous”, “gaudy”, “disgusting”, “monstrosity”, “eyesore” and, simply, “bad art”.
Although comments of this nature can reflect people’s real concerns, they are part of the territory of public art and are expected to be made in advance of a Biennale installation, during its 2-year tenure, and even afterward. For the most part, they are welcomed — and ignored. This response (or lack thereof) can certainly generate frustration and anger. But more vexing – even confounding – to those seriously offended by an artist’s creation is that some comments may actually underscore the point and purpose of the artwork.
The sculptor of Boy Holding A Shark, Chen Wenling, could well feel gratified when a particular stream of negative comments on his work seem to confirm that what he is trying to say came through loud and clear.
His message is a protest against forces that threaten the extinction of endangered species (like sharks); hence the sculpture’s enormous size mounted on a pedestal as a beacon facing the ocean, much as a lighthouse is a warning to those who might otherwise be lost to submerged rocks and dangerous currents.
Recurring petition comments, including “disturbing”, “nightmarish”, “fear-inducing” “scary”, “dark”, “haunting” are exactly the emotions that message is intended to generate. The work is meant to be upsetting and jarring, an emergency call to somebody to shift their gaze from the surrounding beauty and comfort, and do something.
But if clear opposition was to be expected and handled, why was this artwork not installed in its planned location?
Clearly, what came into play was the safety issue (something identified early by several residents), which had nothing at all to do with whether the art was ugly or undermined the beauty of greenspace or angered and unsettled people.
That was certainly the view of Eric Fredericksen, head of public art for the City of Vancouver. As he explained to Vancouver Is Awesome (July 13) the sculpture itself had very little to do with the decision.
“It was purely a technical review,” Fredericksen said. “Basically it’s a 180-degree turn that bikes and pedestrians go around… the scale of it is such that there’s not really room around it to view it in that same area.”
It would not be surprising if those who both favour and oppose Boy Holding A Shark find this reason crazy-making. Debates on public art can be energizing, but also debilitating. If a decision ultimately turns on something as prosaic as a blind corner on a bike path, It shouldn’t be too much to ask the Biennale to do its homework first.
The watchers of public art in the city may well have been surprised at the successful derailing of a Biennale decision, but not all in False Creek South were surprised to find that a decision by the Engineering Department is determinative. In the process of separating the seawall bikes from pedestrians some years ago – something necessary and desired by all – Engineering told Neighbourhood Association representatives at the very outset that nothing is to be done that would deter cycling; no physical barriers, attempts at speed limits, or even restrictive signage.
But that’s another story – and a longer one.