Penny Balkin Bach

At the Americans for the Arts 2015 Annual Convention, I was honored to accept the 2015 Public Art Network Award on behalf of the Association for Public Art (aPA) and also the early innovators who guide our work today. I am acutely aware that as the nation’s first non-profit public art organization, aPA has a unique 140+ year legacy. While we do not operate in the same environment as government agencies, I believe that recognizing our shared public art legacy can fortify our position by imparting clarity, credibility, and clout.

So who were those civic-minded people who founded and supported the Fairmount Park Art Association (now the Association for Public Art) and established the earliest percent for art programs in the United States?

Henry Fox (left) and Charles Howell (right) founders of the Fairmount Park Art Association, chartered in 1872 © Fairmount Park Art Association/Association for Public Art

Founded in 1872, the aPA was from its inception dedicated to the integration of art and urban planning. This was a citizen’s movement and a membership organization, not a governmental program, a distinction that holds to this day. In their early 20s, founders Henry Fox and Charles Howell enticed a group of pioneering trustees and subscribers from all walks of life—immigrants and natives, merchants, entrepreneurs, lawyers, arts professionals and collectors— to support their new organization. They held the common belief that placing works of art in public spaces would enable people of all classes to share equally in a public trust. Somewhat familiar?

The aPA became the beneficiary to public-spirited Ellen Phillip Samuel’s residuary estate following her death in 1913. Although she could not serve on the all-male Board, Samuel was an active member of the Fairmount Park Art Association and a philanthropic supporter of many local cultural activities. Her bequeath was said to be one of the largest bequests of its kind in the country at the time. Samuel left us two rather extraordinary directives: first, to spend only the interest on the endowment, not the principal. Second, she asked that the aPA put advertisements in international newspapers to attract for exhibition the work of a wide range of artists who might be commissioned to create new sculptures for Philadelphia’s Fairmount Park. What thoughtful and expansive foresight!

Ellen Phillips Samuel, philanthropist © Fairmount Park Art Association/Association for Public Art

Few people know that an artists’ movement in Philadelphia instigated the percent for art programs in the United States. In 1957, the local chapter of Artists Equity asked their lawyer Raymond Speiser, himself an art collector, to help establish a percent for art program for private development. Speiser called upon his friend, the architect Louis Kahn, to join him in this mission to invite Michael von Moschzisker, a writer and then Chairman of Philadelphia’s Redevelopment Authority, to cocktails at the Philadelphia College of Art. Over cocktails, Speiser and Kahn convinced him of the merits of setting aside funds for fine arts on redeveloped properties.

In 1958, von Moschzisker pleaded his case to the National Conference of Editorial Writers, where the idea gained national exposure; and in 1959, the Redevelopment Authority’s percent for art requirement went into effect.

Simultaneously, Benton Spruance, a printmaker and President of Artists’ Equity, and his sculptor friend Joseph Greenberg approached Henry W. Sawyer III, a lawyer, City Councilman and civil rights crusader, who was also on the Board of the aPA. All of these protagonists knew one another, as you might imagine.

Henry W. Sawyer III, lawyer and civil rights activist, who was the author of Philadelphia’s Percent for Art legislation

Evidently Sawyer had tried for some time without success to introduce percent for art legislation in City Council. Finally, just as Sawyer was about to finish his last term in office, the City Council surprised him and passed his ordinance. He told me, “I always thought of it as my going-away present.” So behind this movement were: a printmaker and head of Artists’ Equity, a sculptor, an architect, a redeveloper, a lawyer and collector, and an aPA Trustee and City Councilman. What a great lesson in how to get something to stick in city government.

My personal inspiration comes from the artist Marcel Duchamp. He believed that the audience completes a work of art, which I believe to be a tenet of public art. At his 1957 lecture “The Creative Act,” Duchamp famously stated that “the creative act is not performed by the artist alone; the spectator brings the work in contact with the external world . . . and thus adds his own contribution to the creative act.” This proclamation was issued during the period when he was secretly creating his final work, Etant Donnés, now installed in the Philadelphia Museum of Art – a work that can only be viewed by looking into a peephole, for lack of a better word, thus completing the work of art as well as creating a sense of intimate complicity.

Penny Balkin Bach

On reflection, I think most of us would agree that the term “placemaking” has been conjugated beyond definition. This year’s public art pre-conference is called “Public Art and Placemaking.” In my view, the best public art is inherently placemaking (the verb). Perhaps the pre-conference should instead be called “Public Art IS Placemaking.”

Based on my experience at the Association for Public Art (aPA), formerly the Fairmount Park Art Association, art in public spaces has long been a material attribute of our civic landscape. We know and can cite examples of public art that enhance our environment, transform landscapes, express community values, bring people together, heighten our awareness, or question our assumptions.

Placed in public sites, this art is there for everyone as a form of collective community expression. I offer evidence of this in Philadelphia, where over time people have come to name our parks after the artworks that are located in them.

So, we have the notorious LOVE Park (after Robert Indiana’s LOVE), but we also have Shakespeare Park (after the Shakespeare Monument by Alexander Sterling Calder) and Iroquois Park (after Iroquois by Mark Di Suvero).

Iroquois (1983-1999). Mark di Suvero (left); Symbiosis (2011, installed 2014), Roxy Paine (right) in Iroquois Park. Photo James Ewing © 2014 for the Association for Public Art.

Importantly, these parks were not formally named by planners or cartographers; the parks acquired these names because that’s how people chose to identify them. The unique attributes of the sculptures are what define those places. Interestingly, all three parks are currently slated for re-landscaping, making the case that the art informs the surrounding landscape – not the other way around.

Could the enthusiasm for placemaking, pop-ups, and collaboration in the extreme, be inadvertently precipitating a raft of lackluster and copycat installations across the country? The pop-up approach has been very effective in turning non-public and derelict sites into gathering spaces by the very nature of its welcoming attributes. And that’s good. But in the end, pop-ups mostly utilize a generic palate of umbrellas, chairs, paint, beer and food trucks — albeit elements that are inexpensive, quick, and often delicious.

But I’m worried that artists are becoming marginalized in this process, as placemaking subsumes the original and creative thinking that is implicit in public art. Quick solutions may leave us with a warm feeling, but incredible artworks become etched in the mind though personal experience.

Those of us working in the public art field — artists, administrators, and curators – are already equipped to participate in placemaking because, to some degree, every public art project is by design an interactive process involving a mix of artists, architects, design professionals, community residents, civic leaders, politicians, approval agencies, funding agencies, and construction teams. I believe that the challenge of this communal process is to enhance, rather than limit, the artist’s involvement. (How to choose the “right” artist, working with communities, and overcoming bureaucracy are other topics altogether, for another time.)

Artists, administrators, and curators need to telescope our public art experience to designers, planners, and communities. We should be nurturing a commitment to invention and cooperation – not compromise.

I am optimistic. There are many examples of the radical difference an artist can make when engaged in the planning stages of a project. In Philadelphia, in 2013 our city’s Department of Parks & Recreation developed The Oval, a seasonal park experience on the site of a municipal parking lot on the Benjamin Franklin Parkway. Programmatically, The Oval was a great success. For 2014, it’s second year, the aPA proposed working with an artist to create an original environmental setting.

The Oval on the Benjamin Franklin Parkway in 2013. A design firm conceived a beach theme that was carried out the first year. Photo M. Fischetti for Visit Philadelphia!/GPTMC

Magic Carpet, Candy Coated (2014). The Oval on the Benjamin Franklin Parkway in 2014, its second year. Photo Ashley Lippolis for the Association for Public Art.

In cooperation with the Philadelphia Department of Parks & Recreation and the Fairmount Park Conservancy, the aPA commissioned Magic Carpet by artist Candy Coated (formerly Candy Depew) who transformed the same eight-acre lot into an exuberant environment of color, pattern, illusion, and movement. The artwork featured an elaborate arrangement of the artist’s signature decorative motifs rendered in paint and vinyl, brilliantly colored sand and sandboxes, 3-D illusion art, fabric banners, among other unique and interactive attractions. See below for more photos from 2013 (before) and 2014 (after).

The Oval on the Benjamin Franklin Parkway in 2013. A beach theme with gaming areas. Photo M. Fischetti for Visit Philadelphia!/GPTMC.

Magic Carpet (vinyl detail), Candy Coated (2014). Photo Kat Zagaria, a winner of the Magic Carpet photo contest on Instagram.

Magic Carpet (sandbox detail), Candy Coated (2014). Photo Penny Balkin Bach for the Association for Public Art.

Candy Coated’s bold, whimsical, and colorful installation completely reimagined The Oval, activating and unifying the space and engaging people with rich sensory experiences: artist-designed diamond-shaped sandboxes filled with glowing pink sand; giant vinyl butterflies under foot, blue circle patterned hopscotch; a “light blast” optical illusion; colorful globes in trees above; and oversized painted buoys.

Magic Carpet brought together installation art, popular culture, fantasy, fashion, printmaking, and a passion for vivid color, which presented exciting programming possibilities for The Oval.

If you’ve successfully included artists in placemaking projects, broadcast it and try to influence those who have not. If you haven’t included artists early in the process, think how much better your project might have been if you did.

Jeff Poulin

Patricia Walsh

Across the country, the arts are changing: demographics are shifting, modes of artistic participation are becoming more diverse, and once segmented artistic practices are converging. These changes ring true for both public art and arts education, and over the past year these respective fields have been discussing their convergence.

The Public Art and Arts Education Programs at Americans for the Arts endeavor to explore this intersection, better understand the potential for collaborations, and create tools and resources for encouraging inter-sector cooperation.

As a first step, we have begun to research the shared space. There is an inherent connection between the intrinsic goals of both areas of artistic study and practice. Public art and arts education have been collaborating informally throughout the past several decades, however as we move towards more formalized practices, the professionalization of both fields, and the siloed funding structures, it is vital to explicitly explore modes of integration and examples of best practices that can inform both arts professionals and decisions makers.

Public Art

According to Americans for the Arts’ Public Art Network, public art stimulates learning and thought about art and society, about our interconnected lives, and about the social sphere as a whole. The learning process is facilitated through both the method of creating public artwork and the life of the work once installed. In order to develop an effective public artwork it is essential to learn about the history and culture of the site location. Additionally, once the artwork is complete, those interacting with the piece can learn from it as a community identifier and use it as a means to develop a deeper understanding of both the location and people around it.

Relevant to education, The University of Washington’s report bases the definition on the impact of public art on the specific locale:

“Public art comprises a vast and multidimensional urban typology, which ranges from objects placed in a site, to site-based works, to more ephemeral and performative works that explore dynamic processes, artistic, and biological. As such, public art can serve to provoke profound changes in both the mental and physical environment, often mediating the real and/or perceived divide between cultural aesthetics and ecological function.”

In relation to public art in public schools, Jack Becker highlights the significance in distinguishing between public art – which takes into account its site and other contextual issues – and art in public places. Simply placing a sculpture in a school is not the same as designing a sculpture specifically for that site by considering its audience, environmental conditions, the history of the site, etc. So, how can public art be created to achieve its goals within an educational context?

Arts Education

Arts Education leader, Anne Bamford, described arts education as being present in virtually all countries in the world (irrespective of economic status or development), yet the definition of ‘arts education’ is widely disputed on an international scale. In a review completed in 2013 by an international coalition of arts education research organizations, there are several definitions and purposes for arts and cultural education. In Hungary, for example, policies speak to the purpose of arts education being to educate future artists. In Germany, on the other hand, they speak to the importance of arts education for economic development, social inclusion and benefits to the obligatory education system.

Within the United States, it is widely accepted that a child’s education is not complete unless it includes the arts. However, according to a 2011 national survey by the Farkas Research Group, schools are narrowing their curriculum and 66% of surveyed teachers said that other subjects – like the arts – are ‘crowded out’ by the attention placed on math or language arts. Additionally, access to quality arts education is challenged by equity across a number of spectrums including socio-economic status, demographics, and geographic location.

Though much of arts education reform is based around curriculum, standards, and graduation requirements, there is robust research and exceptional examples which dictate the space for public art within the arts education sector to work collaboratively to achieve academic and social goals.

The Intersection of Public Art and Arts Education

Beginning with ancient Greek and Roman cities, public art has a long history. Within the United States, public art, as a field, began to emerge with the American Renaissance in the 19^th century, and was developed into a professionalized field after WWI. Especially during Roosevelt’s presidency, the federal government – and, in turn, state governments – began supporting public art through the Works Progress Administration, the Federal Arts Project, and the Section of Fine Arts, which placed art in federal buildings like post offices, libraries, and schools. Section of Fine Arts also began the federal support of the Percent for Art program, which allocated a percentage (usually 1%) of the cost of a building towards its aesthetics and art displays. This sparked a movement, were many cities – and some states – began adopting a similar policy like Baltimore, San Francisco, and Philadelphia (being the first!).

Take for example the case of Public Art in New York City’s Public Schools from Michele Cohen’s book Public Art for Public Schools:

“As the public education system developed in America, decoration of schools held little importance. However, beginning with a series of lectures on the topic in 1857, John Ruskin, believed that learning should take place in stimulating and attractive environments. Small societies developed to support this philosophy by placing reproductions of well known pieces in the public schools of New York City. As with the growth of public art, the U.S. Commission of Education outlined goals in its 1897 report:

1. Art will provide moral uplift
2. Children respond to their surroundings
3. Art supports the teaching of other subjects
4. Children should be cultivated to become future arts patrons, and furthermore, when taste is instilled at an early age, American citizens will demand improved design.”

Within NYC, the movement continued with the installation of murals, stained glass, and more – all which continued through the great depression until the New Deal. With the shifting economics and divergent immigrant populations of the city, many programs existed through various initiatives and became formally institutionalized with the integration of a Percentage for Art program specifically for the public school system in 1983.

Where to go from here?

As we embark on the exploration of this shared space, it begs the question: How do we further collaborate as public artists and arts educators? Where are the intersections in our work? What is the shared language?

As we move forward to further explore the intersections between public art and arts education, we hope that you can join us. In the next few months, there are two opportunities to participate and learn more. On Wednesday, May 27 at 3:00pm EST, tune in for a webinar with experts from the field of public art and arts education who will discuss this topic. Similarly, on Saturday, June 13 at the Americans for the Arts’ Annual Convention, there is a discussion session titled, “What Is the Connection between Public Art and Education?” where we’ll continue the conversation.

Todd Eric Hawkins

I became involved with the Americans for the Arts Emerging Leader Network in order to form stronger relationships with arts leaders on a local and national level. Over the past few years, the network has given me the opportunity to forge vitally important connections, both personally and professionally. In addition, the experience has provided me with the inspiration and tools to develop who I am as a leader.

For the past three years, I have had the privilege of serving on the Emerging Leader Council, a nationally elected body of individuals that advise Americans for the Arts on how best to serve the next generation of arts leaders. As a member, I was honored on multiple occasions to sit around a table with 14 of the most promising arts leaders I have ever met. Their dedication, wisdom, and first-hand knowledge of the struggles facing all of us as we grow as leaders, and their eagerness to find solutions and build a stronger future have been invaluable to my current and future success.

While the onus of advising is on the 15 members of the council, it is up to all of us to make sure that those at the table clearly represent who we are and the issues we face. The current members of the council have spent countless hours dedicated to making the membership a diverse group that represents a cross section of disciplines in a wide range of markets. Their efforts are only limited by the input from those they serve in the Emerging Leader Network. Network members must be engaged in the process in order to strengthen our voice at the table.

Each year the advisory council of Americans for the Arts holds elections to replace council members that have reached the end of their term. Now through Wednesday, November 12^th, all Americans for the Arts members have an opportunity to vote for new council members to join the Emerging Leaders, Arts Education, Private Sector, and Public Art councils. Like the Emerging Leaders, the other advisory councils strive to strengthen our collective voice, and our engagement in the process is vital to their success.

As a member of this community, I strongly encourage you to vote. Not only because an engaged constituency leads to greater success, but because many of the issues that we face as organizations and individuals will take a unified effort to solve. New kinds of organizations and new ways of thinking will require a new kind of leader. One that is knowledgeable about the history of our field, armed with best practices and empowered by a support system that is there when we need them the most.

My time working with the Emerging Leader Network has paid off for me because I have been engaged in the process and invested in the future success. My time on the council has proven that the next generation of arts leaders is indeed in good hands and they are eager and ready to lead. Circles rise together and this one is rising quickly. Join the circle, be engaged, and ensure that your voice is represented at the table. Vote today.

Nine Lives by Peter Reiquam, Photographer: Benjamin Benschneider

What a great week filled with aspirations and reflections from emerging leaders in the public art field!

Thank you to all of our bloggers who made this salon a success by sharing their thoughts and inspiration for their thoughts and inspirations on their careers and the future of the public art field.

Reading these posts throughout the week has given light to some of the great talent that will be guiding the future of public art. We heard from Kati Stegall reflecting on how we can keep up with the changes happening throughout the country and from Meredith Frazier Britt, an up-and-coming city planner who is eager to work with public art (we need more of her!)

We also heard from:

• Cameron Russell, Founder of Space-Made reveal the power of the graffiti sub-culture in Grassroots Public Art and Political Power;
• Sara Ansel the Porch Light Program Director at the City of Philadelphia Mural Arts Program discuss what brought her to the field in Public Art-An Unexpected Approach to Improving Health;
• Ashlee Arder, Programs Coordinator at ArtServe Michigan reflection in the board room in Over Heads or Under the Table;
• Anna Blyth, Program Planner at the City of Santa Fe Arts Commission and her musings as a Tea and Toast Art Administrator;
• Michelle Laflamme-Childs, Public Art Project Coordinator at New Mexico Arts talk about her experience in Diving Headfirst into the New Wave of Public Art;
• Todd Hawkins, Project Manager for Public Art for Public Schools and Emerging Leaders Council member reflect on his career path inPublic Art: A Personal Journey of Discovery;
• David Schmitz, Arts Programmer at Iowa State Arts Council discusses What Are the Organizing Ideas in Public Art Today?;
• Barrie Cline, Adjunct Professor and Kelber Fellow at Harry Van Arsdale Jr. Center for Labor Studies discuss her projects in Forming a Workers a Workers Public Art Practice;
• Jennifer Lantzas, Public Art Coordinator for the NYC Department of Parks and Recreation review her work and the work of her program in 158 Years: A NYC Public Art Journey;
• Jennifer Lieu, Civic Art Project Assistant at the Los Angeles Country Arts Commission discusses her journey in Take Me to Tomorrowland;
• Felipe Sanchez, Associate Director at Social and Public Art Resource Center (SPARC) reflect in on his work in Cultural Patrimony: Learning to Save Los Angeles’ Mural Legacy;
• Alex White-Maxxarella, Artist and Founder of Artefacting discuss Public Art: A Means for Human Development – The Artist as Social Animator; and
• Abigail Satinsky Associate Director of Three Walls and Stephanie Sherman, Founder of Elsewhere talk about their new ambition Common Field: Where Arts Organizers Convene, Exchange, Vision.

This has been an inspirational week of examining what the future has in store for our careers and the field as a whole. I hope you are inspired as I am of all these new professionals in the field. In reflecting on the future from Washington, D.C., I quote our 16th President Abraham Lincoln who said “The best way to predict your future is to create it”, and I can’t wait to create the future with all of you.

Alex White-Mazzarella

It was about six years ago, in 2007, sitting in my small Hong Kong apartment, that I put down ideas for a work practice that would use public art and modern culture as means of developing community and habitat. A practice where the arts would be used not just as an aesthetic to beautify or to activate space, but as productions of communality with the residents of a place and through a process that would open a space for community members to develop and connect. It came from contact with arts in public spaces. A trip to Berlin put me in touch with a beautiful enormous mural wrapping around a residential building and all it’s appendices. The cooperation and collaboration that must have come to life between residents to bring it to life; the idea, the prospect was astounding. What was this public art? Then coming across the architectural interventions of artist architects such as Hundertwasser who experimented with trees coming out of windows and Santiago Cirugeda who with residents turned dumpsters into useable furniture. These things demonstrated a bottom up approach to city planning, and that to me was a revolution. I didn’t know it in those moments, but I was being drawn into a quest to understand how art, culture and the humanities can be harnessed to liberate communities to move further towards their potential. The only way to learn it was to do it.

In the following years leading teams working with residents of different communities, we were using creativity experimentally in response to voiced needs to bring to life micro-cultures (culture defined as something between people that lifts the human mind and soul). And increasingly these cultures micro-brewed as solutions of sorts, were bringing forth traces of the type of transformation that was wanted with success depending on the length of each initiative we employed. Discussion circles, art workshops, interviews, murals video projections, flag making, public movies, land art – so many forms can be found to fit the situation. We were finding that as relations matured and as people opened up to participating more and more, reality and limits were being challenged. We were animating people to feel motivated to try something new, and as a result many people’s were raised just a little bit, but enough to see through a transformation. In Dharavi Mumbai, it was a feared industrious slum road transformed into an open house expose of local life.

In Willets Point, New York (above) an empty lot transformed into a soccer stadium. In Detroit an abandoned house transformed into an event to come together. In Kohima Nagaland a trash filled public space transformed into a cultural festival. In Gurgaon India an empty rooftop transformed into an active wrestling rink.

In Oaxaca Mexico an abandoned lot transformed into a small experimental agricultural garden, and another lot transformed into a space for communality. Across different contexts with unique challenges, cultures and peoples results have been different but also consistent. And after the end of each project? After our presence? From some projects have come desires that we could not fulfill. In Kohima Nagaland, the organization we put together to continue the project fell through. Yet other transformations continue to this day like the soccer stadium in Willets Point New York City where annual soccer tournaments continue to this day. The wrestling matches continue to happen. The agriculture continues and a few leaders I worked to train are being successful in holding bi-weekly meetings to bring other projects and transformations forward.

Many of these responses were surprises, but when things are brought to life and hope is rewarded, well more hope is born. And there lies a central point to this public art. Hope! Motivation! Belief! Optimism! Unity! This is the substance that brings individuals and groups forwards. And why shouldn’t the success of these forces be anything but expected? Our modern world is after all running on them.

Billboards, advertisements, movies, and celebrities are constantly motivating and facilitating us to buy certain things, to dress a certain way. If these things disappeared would our consumer culture survive as we know it today? Of course not, for the motivational aspect is an integral part of it. The same holds true for what I deem to be the central objectives of public art; human learning and capacity building.

And thus the point, that public art can help capacitate groups of people to not only assist in bringing ideas and projects to life, but to assume more autonomy and responsibility in their environment. Public art can nourish the “animo” or human spirit of a group and help create healthier relations and reciprocity. And that “animo” is the key to human development, community development and cultural development.

After years and years I have found a term for this type of work, the Socio Cultural. It refers to a transformative process used widely in South and Central America to bring people together to re-valuate the community as a strategic and essential space for human development. And in its’ essence it is a process that can transform people and the reality they perceive by introducing potential for the development of citizen participation and mobilization. To create spaces and activities for communities that permit and enact the promotion of local development processes that value the collective identity and sense of belonging as determinants for the personal investment and involvement that participants put forth. The Socio Cultural can become a base for socially sustainable local development and a method in which artists create and utilize public art.

Furthermore, the sustained impact that the Socio Cultural can have on improving the quality of life in neighborhoods provides a huge opportunity to those artists and leaders that can understand how to use public art and the relational arts. In short it’s not what you do but how you do it. Its not what you make but with whom you make it. Its not what it is, but what it does.

Feel free to contact me at info@artefacting.com.

Felipe Sanchez

By 2008, the world-renowned murals of Los Angeles metaphorically had a nail in their coffin; they had become a faded memory in the consciousness of the city. This amnesia of preserving the cultural patrimony of LA was a social epidemic that I later learned was happening to public art in many cities across the country. Mural after mural along the LA’s freeways and neighborhoods were disappeared and abandoned by the city – scenes so appalling that I set out to find organizations that could shed some light on the issue. Little did I know this small but significant action would set the stage for the next phase of my career in the arts.

To ease my frustration on the issue, I googled, ‘Los Angeles murals’ and found the ‘Social and Public Art Resource Center’, better known as SPARC. The visual imagery on the website, rich with social and politically spirited murals and the history of the organization as a leader in public art practice, grabbed my soul and moved me to request an informational interview. By the following week, I would meet my future colleague and mentor, Debra J.T. Padilla, Executive Director of SPARC.

When I arrived I learned that SPARC’s Co-Founder/Artistic Director, Judy Baca, and her team of ‘artivists’ were already leading a campaign called, ‘Save LA Murals’. The campaign was a response to LA’s then ‘mural ban’ and the destruction of our city’s mural legacy by vandals and neglect. In our informational interview, which led to me being hired as a full time staff member, Debra shared a kernel of wisdom that would define my approach to community engagement and my role as an emerging arts leader; she said, and I quote, “remember, history doesn’t begin when we walk through the door, rather, we are always walking into historical precedence”.

If I were to understand the significance of my initial inquiry into the blighted murals of LA, I would have to understand who created them, why, and most importantly, their power to transform the social fabric of our city. I would have to delve deep into the socio-political history of LA if I were to be an impactful contributor to the movement. By investigating the past, I learned that Los Angeles had a rich history of muralism dating back to 1932 in a mural entitled, America Tropical, by Mexican Muralist, David Alfaro Siqueiros; his mural would inspire the California Chicano Mural Renaissance of the 1960s and 70s. Following that, it would inspire the Great Wall of Los Angeles and the hundreds of murals in the neighborhoods of LA. The spirit of the Los Angeles River combined with the contributions made by LA’s ethnic populations to the building of LA would reveal themselves through the mural tradition.

Today, nearly 6 years after my initial inquiry to SPARC and years of activism by our arts community, we are witnessing a ‘mural renaissance’ again in Los Angeles. The notorious ‘mural ban’ has been overturned and the right to artistic expression is in place through a ‘mural permitting’ process. The iconic 1984 Olympic freeway murals are being ‘excavated’ from layers of graffiti and SPARC’s ‘Save LA Murals’ campaign has evolved into an active ‘Mural Rescue Program’. As of this summer, the LA City Council has approved $750,000 to fund mural related preservation and production efforts as our policymakers recognize ‘Arts Day’ in LA. The Great Wall of Los Angeles, the mother of LA’s murals, has received funding from the NEA for the design of the 1960s segment and an entire neighborhood has been designated an ‘Arts District’. Dedicated ‘artivists’, policy makers and arts organizations had contributed to a shift in social and artistic policy that was unimaginable just a few years ago.

The lesson in this experience for me, and many others, was to never underestimate the power of historical precedence when advising policy, hence, “we are always walking into historical precedence”. To empower the movement, the ‘artivists’ embraced the impact of mural history that had preceded them. They shared a deep appreciation for the muralists who laid the foundation for the arts in LA. Had we not been able to articulate its significance to our policymakers, it’s possible that the pursuit for the freedom of artistic expression and its relevance for our city would have not been realized.

What’s next for Los Angeles and its public art programs? As our city reimagines itself for the 21^st century, exciting projects are underway that engage the arts as a cornerstone for a vision of a more pedestrian and environmentally conscious city. For example, parts of the cemented Los Angeles River (the concreted artery of the city) will be returned to natural spaces with support of the Urban Waters Federal Project. This project aims to improve our urban waterways and promote economic and social benefits that include public art along our river. Other projects include the expansion of LA’s Metro subway system that will shift the way Angelinos travel and include opportunities for artists. The revitalization of Downtown LA, once a victim of expansive suburbanization, is now seeing a resurgence of life, historical preservation and public art. These are just a few of the ways that Angelinos are integrating the arts and social change. I have no doubt that as we move forward with transforming our great city, the need for artists and arts leaders will be essential for a healthy and thriving urban experience.

The Emerging Leaders in Public Art Blog Salon is hosted by Carnegie Mellon University.

Jennifer Lieu

I walked away with three things upon finishing my graduate studies in Public Art and Urban Planning: a diploma and two questions. How can I help make art that is more accessible intellectually, emotionally and physically? What are alternative and sustainable income resources for artists to make a living besides selling art in galleries and trying to find work as a tenured art professor? These questions follow me to every informational interview I participate in and panel discussion I attend. I continually think about them.

These questions shaped how I was going to accomplish my goals and led to my interest in public art. I identified that I want to help artists produce artwork that people can relate to, and would be willing to see without feeling like they have to be dragged into a museum. I also want to help connect artists with alternative resources for income and skill growth. When discussing these goals with my peers and mentors, I have been encouraged to learn more about public art. Now that I am working in the field, I find that these goals continuously resonate with me and inform questions about my future in public art.

Finding New Places for Public Art

One of the biggest challenges working in public art is being able to grow professionally in a field with limited resources. As many of us have observed, budgets for arts and culture are usually the first to go when resources are limited. Starting a career in a field that isn’t able to expand or grow is challenging for emerging leaders like me because positions are constantly being cut instead of added, which makes it difficult to advance or experience any kind of longevity with an organization.

Another challenge is getting people to see intrinsic value in public art. As the Civic Art Project Assistant at the Los Angeles County Arts Commission, I am fortunate enough to work with a variety of County departments that see value in public art as effective public engagement. It’s inspiring to see how art can be used as a tool to bring transparency, awareness and understanding of complex issues, and to help us view these topics in a new way.

I would love to expand my career in public art by working with artists to create new methods for public engagement with technology or biotech companies. Being able to connect artists to resources that these types of companies have to offer would open the door for so many conversations and ways of seeing our world. Don’t the possibilities for art making seem endless with a 3D printer?

Looking Beyond the Horizon

Most of the sessions offered at the AFTA Public Art Pre-conference reflected on the past (PAN Year in Review and tumultuous histories of public art) and answered questions about the present (how to work more effectively with artists and other partners). While conversations about the past and present are important ones to have, I observed that visionary discussions about the future of the field were few and far between. It surprised me that this national venue for conversations about public art didn’t focus more on what public art will look like in 25, 50 or even 100 years.

I was also surprised at the small number of conference attendees in my peer group and did not come across many first time attendees like myself. Most I met have been in the field for quite some time and have attended many AFTA conferences. I was hoping to meet more of my peers working at public art agencies across the country to talk to them about their day to day challenges. Conversations about the future are important to me because I want to know how experienced leaders see emerging leaders like me fitting into the picture. How can we anticipate change or evolution of a field without a vision or discussion about what is beyond the horizon?

My Tomorrowland

Over the next several years I would like public art organizations to increase opportunities for jobs and professional development for emerging leaders. Currently, there are few entry-level opportunities in the public art field that have potential for continued long-term growth. With hard work and coaching from my colleagues, my position at the Arts Commission has grown from part-time Civic Art Intern to full-time Civic Art Project Assistant. I feel lucky to work alongside and learn from a team of experienced and visionary leaders. It is important that these types of opportunities be made available for people with the drive and passion for this work to ensure the longevity and relevance of the field.

My first assignment as an intern at the Arts Commission was Project Willowbrook. Being at the conference when Project Willowbrook was announced as a PAN Year in Review award winner was a marker in time that showed me how far I have come and how much closer I am to getting the answers I have been searching for. In the meantime, I’ll be keeping a lookout for “Public Art 2039: A visionary discussion about the future” in the session schedule for the 2015 AFTA Conference.

The Emerging Leaders in Public Art Blog Salon is generously sponsored by Carnegie Mellon University.

Jennifer Lantzas

I am a firm believer that you have to understand where you have been to know where you are going—and public art in NYC has changed drastically over the past century and a half. The first sculpture in a New York City park was George Washington by Henry Kirk Brown, which was unveiled in Union Square in 1856. For the next 100 years public artworks were predominantly commemorative or memorial in nature—realistic representations of notable politicians, soldiers, and leaders.

By the 1960s, new ideas about what constituted artwork freed artists to explore new forms of materials and exhibitions. Sculpture grew beyond the constraints of studio and gallery spaces, and people embraced the social and political impact of art. With big sculptures, big ideas, and performance artists’ impromptu “happenings” in the City’s public spaces, it was only natural that visual artists wanted to bring their artwork outdoors.

New York City’s Parks Department acknowledged these developments and installed its first exhibition of temporary public art in 1967—William Accorsi’s playful sculptures at Union Square’s “Check-A-Child” Playground—111 years after George arrived in the park.  And yes, the playground was exactly what it sounds like.

In the 1970s and 1980s in response to the rising trend of “plop art” and the increasing deterioration of city Parklands, artists developed exhibitions that impacted the site and the surrounding community. For example, in 1980 Francis Hines wrapped the Washington Square Arch in 8,000 yards of polyester net to highlight the need to restore the park and monument. It was “described as a giant bandage for a wounded Monument.”

Now in our 47^th year, NYC Parks’ Art in the Parks program is one of the country’s largest outdoor galleries, exhibiting over 1,500 public artworks by nearly 1,000 artists in 150 parks citywide since 1967. When I studied arts administration I wanted to work in collections management. Well, now I oversee the comings and goings of art in a gallery that measures 29,000 acres.  And most importantly this museum quality art is on view for free to the public, who expand the dialog well beyond our borders.

The expanding interest in public art can be seen in the growing number of proposals we receive annually. Currently, NYC Parks receives approximately 100 exhibition inquiries and proposals every year.  The number of exhibitions installed on parkland has increased to 40–45 public art installations a year, up from 25 per year just 5 years ago!

I believe future public art programs will involve artists in the development and design of public spaces, not just the addition of singular sculptures to finished designs. Public art staff should be placed within design and construction divisions, or play a more active role, so there is a more organic inclusion of public artworks.

Public art has proven to revitalize New York City neighborhoods: First Park, a desolate abandoned lot with a serious rat problem on the Lower East Side was transformed with the help of the BMW Guggenheim Lab in 2011. First Street Green, a local arts group, continues to bring experimental artworks, performances, and night time screenings to this animated space.
For Paths to Pier 42, Lower Manhattan Cultural Council and partner organizations overhauled an empty banana pier acquired by Parks into a waterfront hub for neighborhood advocacy, educational programming, and artist workshops. Spanish artist Juanli Carrión enlivened Duarte Square, an empty plaza, with his garden installation Outer Seed Shadow #01 that explores the stories of Manhattan’s immigrants.

On a grander scale, Mark di Suvero was able to transform a derelict site into Socrates Sculpture Park that has hosted and supported over 700 public artists since its launch in 1986. Other institutions on parkland have also successfully implemented arts programming, including Wave Hill, Snug Harbor, and most notably in recent years, Madison Square Park Conservancy and Friends of the High Line.

As communities recognize these “place-making” programs and designs, they are enlisting artists, museums, galleries, and cultural institutions to turn their neighborhoods into dynamic, cultural centers. Since Parks does not have the resources to fund temporary art projects, Arts in the Parks is sustained through our important partnerships.

As Public Art Coordinator my role is to act as a liaison between artists, organizations, and what is admittedly one of the largest (and possibly most intimidating) bureaucracies in the country. In an ideal world, with the increasing demand for art in public spaces, there would be an equal increase in resources—both on a financial and staff level. Hopefully as cities see the advantageous outcomes of working with artists more resources will be set aside for programs. Nevertheless, it is extremely rewarding to work alongside artists to rejuvenate our often forgotten or underserved sites.

With this trend, future public arts administrators will still need to understand the logistical requirements for installing large sculpture (proposal review, legal agreements, insurance requirements, and safety regulations). Yet, you will also be responsible for community programs and building lasting, fruitful relationships between artists and the public…and if you are lucky, you will work on projects you believe in so deeply that you would happily shovel hundreds of pounds of compost at 7:00 a.m. on a Saturday (Juanli, I am looking in your direction).

Historical context for Art in the Parks: The Outdoor Gallery: 40 Years of Public Art in New York City Parks by Jonathan Kuhn.

The Emerging Leaders in Public Art Blog Salon is generously sponsored by Carnegie Mellon University.

Stephanie Sherman

Abigail Satinsky

Arts organizers face a unique set of problems, probably similar to that of a circus ringleader. You need diplomacy, imagination, creativity, flexibility. You also have to be incredibly practical – managing budgets, funders, logistics. You’re often working with volunteers and supporters who need to receive non-economic benefits and feel engaged and excited. Communication is key.

First, what is “the field” we’re talking about? Artist-run spaces, experimental venues, artists creating platforms and opportunities for other artists, and organizations that put supporting artists’ work at the heart and center of their mission. We operate across a wide range of organizing principles – from being a 501(c)3 organization to a co-operative or collective, from long-running institutions to short-term projects – but we all struggle with a similar set of questions. Why is supporting experimental visual art practice important? Who are our audiences and partners? What are our tactics and strategies? What does sustainability look like? How can articulate more broadly the values and impacts emerging from this work?

There are lots of histories to draw from, though few clear guideposts for finding them. So, we’ve set out to tell the history of this field and figure out how to move it forwards. The goal is to work symbiotically with art world movements, to make more room for them, to consider new forms of access, to link newcomers with old-timers. We see too much and too little re-inventing the wheel all at once. We don’t know the tools and instruments other people are using. At the same time projects tend to be so site-specific, so grounded in communities and configurations, that many issues are reflections of particular social and political dynamics. It’s not clear for how it all fits together. And since there is never enough time, its hard to make time for the big questions amongst all the little ones.

What is Common Field?

Over the course of the last year, a group of arts leaders–Abby Satinsky and Shannon Stratton of Threewalls, Courtney Fink of Southern Exposure, Nat May of SPACE Gallery, Elizabeth Chodos of Oxbow, and Stephanie Sherman of Elsewhere–have been collaborating with leaders of alternative art spaces and projects across the country to develop a national network of arts organizers called Common Field. The idea of Common Field is to found a coalition raising the visibility and viability of non-profit spaces and projects with an artist-centered ethos who are bringing vibrant projects to publics. Common Field will be a platform for exchanges, mentorship, information, learning, resources, and advocacy between these organizations.

Why did we develop it?

Common Field emerges from a range of experiences with these organizers, including previous associations with the National Association of Artist Organizations (NAAO), an advocacy group for this field that ended in the mid-1990s and at the Warhol Initiative, which was a capacity building program of the Warhol Foundation. The Foundation would host these amazing convenings with workshops, dinners, presentations that provided formal and informal outlets for arts leaders, and everyone would go home bursting with new energy and ideas. We wanted to take that private gathering and turn it into a public conversation. Threewalls then produced the Hand in Glove conference, which continued these conversations, which has become an ongoing itinerant conference with iterations in New Orleans in 2011, hosted by Press Street, and an upcoming one in September 2015 in Minneapolis, hosted by The Soap Factory and Works Progress.

Most importantly, these initiatives are places to talk about issues in the radical arts organizing on the grassroots level, a world that is largely unknown to people outside its trenches. Most of these projects, while deeply embedded in their communities, experience isolation in terms of strategies and building capacity.

On a personal level, we both share common interest in creating platforms that amplify the voices of these groups, and in building simple systems for arts organizing that reflect the ideas and practices of artists themselves. These platforms enable emergence, coincidence, tinkering, pretending, and intimacy. We combine a do-it-together attitude inspired by collectives and collaboratives, tactics of grassroots movement and coalition building, with a practical business sense that recognizes the need for leadership, clarity, and vision in communicating with the non-artists world. Coming into the field, we both had the sense of slowly figuring it out on our own–what other people were doing and how they make it work–and it would have been incredibly helpful and meaningful to have a resource that made processes and protocols more transparent and open. The hope is that the field becomes stronger in the future, that artists can be directly supported through these efforts, and that other collaborators, funders, and the general public can see the power of this cultural production more clearly.

We’re planning on fully launching our membership in January, but in the meantime we’re collecting feedback from people on what they’d like to see happen and how they might be a part. Save the date for our annual conference Hand in Glove, happening September 18-20, 2015 in Minneapolis, hosted by the Soap Factory and Works Progress. Check out our site at commonfield.org, we’d love to hear from you.

The Emerging Leaders in Public Art Blog Salon is generously sponsored by Carnegie Mellon University.

Barrie Cline

Some years back, I was fortunate enough to be asked to develop an arts course for the mainly rank and file construction workers that are required by their union to attend our Labor College. I chose to develop a class on public art seeing it as a vehicle to take up issues around working class studies by initially focusing on the built environment of New York City, thinking that engagement might be sought as my (sometimes reluctant) students were builders of that environment.

The emphasis on NYC’s built environment in Tom Finkelpearl’s text Dialogues in Public Art proved one way to introduce this study, as well as to take up issues of representation and to open up what art can be and whom it can be for. At some point, it became obvious that the class actually should allow for making art, particularly after incorporatingreadings from Larry Shiner’s The Invention of Art which helped us look at the possible re-elevation of the construction tradesperson’s own artisanship, given Shiner’s argument that Fine Art is a relatively recent construct of the west in the eighteenth century. We began to think about work as art, and about making their labor—and the worker—more visible.

One early project we did had several former students answer a request for proposals by the pier next to an abandoned building. “Representations of the Worker” was the exhibit we presented that directly referenced the WPA and built upon a challenge issued to the students in my public art class:

“Since you see so comparatively few representations today of workers, how would you (if empowered to create your own public art) want to represent the worker today?”

Electrician Brian Petrocelli, who had long admired the work of Dorothea Lange, responded creating photographic portraits of his fellow workers that I believe riffed on this WPA past, but enacted a critique of this imagery. Whereas most of these works of the WPA era portray a characteristic hypermasculinity in the workers depicted, he instead portrayed each of his colleagues at relative rest by each of their respective trades. Each worker seems to be in a more reflective moment thereby challenging the emphasis on brawn and effectively illuminating the reality of the construction trades, a far more diverse group than one might immediately imagine. The interesting space Brian occupied as an artist/worker from the inside seemed compelling and important to build on in public ways.

Photo by Brian Petrocelli

Several years later, myself a student at SPQ (Social Practice Queens) a partnership between Queens College and the Queens Museum, this exploration of the potential of public space from a labor studies perspective continued.

Building off of the Queen’s Museums own unique approach to community engagement, SPQ introduced me to Corona and the work of local groups like New Immigrant Community Empowerment (NICE) and their worker center. Soon after, former student and Corona native Jaime Lopez who is a union electrician, fellow SPQ student Sol Aramendi and I spearheaded a collaboration between NICE and union workers. First we created a publication, an edition of Sol’s PROJECT LUZ, that featured images and texts created by the workers with a special focus on safety conditions, thinking this a good way to build common ground. The publication was distributed on Workers Memorial Day (April 28^th2013) in Corona Plaza.

Then we returned to the Plaza later that August where the first iteration of the WORKERS PAVILION was created, featuring a light box exhibition structure the workers developed together for the PROJECT LUZ images in color, along with bi-lingual texts created by the labor college’s students who had recently taken a class on immigration. The crowd received the piece warmly—cheering, in fact—and later Jaime told me that he would never see the plaza or its people in the same way again. Soon after he and I formed the Workers Art Coalition, seeking further engagement of trades people in art and movement building projects.

Corona Plaza. Photo by Edouard Rogers

In doing some research for our next project, I learned that the planning committee of the 1939 World’s Fair was originally hoping to commission a “Temple to Labor” that unfortunately did not get built. With this thwarted attempt in mind, and building on the structure and content of this first WORKERS PAVILION at Corona Plaza, the Workers Art Coalition collectively designed and created an LED lit exhibition structure/sculpture for Open Engagement at the Queens Museum this past May which also was the 75^th anniversary of the 39’ World’s Fair. It featured a spectrum of projects ranging from a new media initiative with Sol Aramendi that addresses wage theft affecting day laborers, to an homage exhibit to the unknown worker, all while creating space for the performance of collective labor and camaraderie framed by the pavilion while it was being constructed. What elation and solidarity was expressed when Jaime lit the structure up!

World Fair. Photo by Bobby Andrew

As time has gone by, I have noticed both a greater sense of ownership of the ongoing WORKERS PAVILION platform, as well as a growing tendency for members who came aboard just wanting to “tinker” to take up and become invested in the social and political issues that some of our content raises. In some sense, the Workers Art Coalition is the first public for its own project, but overtime we are building momentum, and more workers are giving up their precious leisure time to work with us. I believe this is a direct result of creating an ongoing, inclusive practice in public space- with results not achievable in any other way, but in public space.

I wonder, what do others think about the role and potential of public art practices in the formation of an expanded social and/or political consciousness?

The Emerging Leaders in Public Art Blog Salon is generously sponsored by Carnegie Mellon University.

Cameron Russell

It often strikes me that pundits and political scientists are engaged in a very limited discussion about politics. I am bored hearing about the political elite and about the influence of money. I think people that have been considered politically marginalized often illuminate sites of equality and of hope. Their stories of effecting change from the margins are especially relevant as an increasing majority of Americans find themselves marginalized from our political and economic systems.

My first encounter with public art was reading Jack Stewart’s book Graffiti Kings. At its height, during the 1970s, Stewart wrote, “Few urban communities had ever experienced such a rapid and concentrated alteration of their visual environment.” An alteration accomplished largely by 8 to 16 year old Black and Latino boys. Why was the demographic least likely to vote, or engage in organizational work, in control of one of the fastest visual changes of an urban environment?

I want to broaden our understanding of power. In our obsession with the people we deem most powerful – elected officials, celebrities, and millionaires – we ignore the people who are usually the most valuable change makers. We already have an inexpensive, readily available group of leaders, with roots established in all communities – grassroots public artists. What they do with their power is their business. We cannot predict or outline the creative solutions to an individual or a community’s set of problems. As poet and politician Aime Cesaire wrote:

“The peculiarity of ‘our place in the world’ isn’t to be confused with anybody else’s. The peculiarity of our problems aren’t to be reduced to subordinate forms of other problems…in these conditions, it will be understood that we cannot delegate anyone to think for us; to do our searching, to make our discoveries; that we cannot accept that anyone at all, be he our best friend, answer for us.”

As graffiti grew, it became more than a respite from the gang violence that plagued New York City neighborhoods, it actually began to resolve tensions. “Graffiti writers formed a code that provided acceptable alternatives to beating each other up,” Stewart wrote, “ [It also] eliminated the old turf boundaries, as such barriers interfered with the important objective of gaining access to all the trains in the system. [The writers] …even made great social events out of Mayor Lindsay’s “Let the punishment fit the crime” initiative, which sentenced writers to wash graffiti from the walls of subway stations.” Because the writers owned graffiti they designed the rules of the game, and used them to their benefit.

But the political implications went beyond just addressing local issues of turf wars and gang violence. In one of the world’s great graffiti bibles Subway Art, Martha Cooper says the writers were motivated by the desire to “get in the face of society.” The Mayor of New York, their mayor, was oblivious to “the social problems that had been unfolding in the most volatile and vulnerable segments of the population over the previous twenty years.”  But the act of graffiti was public, and it was a place to confront and match the power of the traditional political system, to rebel against public invisibility. When I interviewed BG183, a member of Tats Cru graffiti collective in the South Bronx, he made this comparison—“It was more about my name, you know, BG183, that was the key. It was the message of me being out there like how a mayor is gonna run for mayor and he’d post his name everywhere.”

Initially powered by some of the most politically marginalized communities, graffiti is a movement that grew to be truly ubiquitous. As you read stories of the broader world of grassroots public art, you’ll find that demographics — those inescapable numbers, those categories labeled ‘women,’ and ‘minorities,’ that plague the charts and tables of political science books — don’t matter.

“I always thought that graffiti was a phenomenon that could only happen in New York City,” wrote Cooper in Subway Art, “[Because NYC] in the late 1970s…was on the verge of bankruptcy, neighborhoods were crumbling, and the train yards weren’t well fenced or guarded, it never crossed my mind that kids in squeaky-clean Sweden would want to paint trains.” One of the most disappointing characteristics of political science research is that study after study focuses on data that shows young people, low-income populations, women, and “minorities,” aren’t being represented, aren’t participating, aren’t voting, various statistics and reasons abound. This narrow conception of political reality is due to the limited understanding of who is a political actor, and what it means to have power.

Graffiti is just a case study of what grassroots public artists are capable of. At the art lab I run in Brooklyn, Space-Made, our mission is to build the capacity needed for grassroots creators to speak and work as experts and problem solvers, work only they can do.  These creators are powerful agents of political and economic change despite their limited access to indexes of power favored by mainstream political science. Their work offers compelling evidence for the importance of power drawn from resources that are distributed throughout our society, and almost completely non-rival and non-excludable. Their work challenges overly-determined analyses of power derived from sources like wealth, political office, race, gender, age, and education. They provide an alternative, creative toolkit to build sustainable, democratic communities.

Sources:

• Cooper, Martha, and Henry Chalfant. 2009. Subway Art: 25th Anniversary Edition. San Francisco, CA: Chronicle.
• Harris, Fredrick C., Valeria Sinclair-Chapman, and Brian Mc Kenzie.  2006.  Countervailing Forces in African-American Civic Activism, 1973-1994.  NY:  Cambridge Unversity Press.
• Katznelson, Ira.1973.  Black Men, White Cities; Race, Politics, and Migration in the United States, 1900-30 and Britain, 1948-68. London: Published for the Institute of Race Relations by Oxford UP.
• Prigoff, James & Dunitz, Robin. 2002. Walls of Heritage: Walls of Pride. Pomegranate Press.
• Stewart, Jack, and Regina Stewart. 2009. Graffiti Kings: New York City Mass Transit Art of the 1970s. New York: Melcher Media/Abrams.

The Emerging Leaders in Public Art Blog Salon is generously sponsored by Carnegie Mellon University.

Meredith Frazier Britt

I am a city planner who can’t stay away from public art. I just finished my capstone project for my master’s in city and regional planning at Georgia Tech, and true to form, I studied commonalities between public art and planning goals in the Atlanta region.

My interest in public art began with art history in college. I trace it to a flashbulb memory of a beloved professor snapping to a slide of Claes Oldenburg’s imagined (but never constructed) intersection-blocking monument in New York City. I loved that this piece would so fully obstruct the activity of city life, interrupting our regular routes of walking and driving, imposing its message on our thoughts.

Claes Oldenburg, Proposed Monument for the Intersection of Canal Street and Broadway, N.Y.C, 1965.

In studying art through textbooks, I was most attracted to work that changed social structures. This attraction eventually leapt out of the textbook, and today, I meet living-and-breathing artists who engage with their communities and want their work to be a source of community transformation. This description sounds a lot like the way many city planners feel about their work, and they want the art to be involved in their efforts. But in most places, there isn’t a regular happy hour or coffee meet-up for artists and planners. Far from it. I think this lack of interaction needs to change.

Planners are great partners for socially-minded artists that produce public art because they are connected to the processes that guide change in communities. Here is my quick and dirty of the processes of city planning and how public art practice is a favorable ally for that work:

1. Planners organize community conditions into data that they analyze and evaluate. They choose certain characteristics to document (for example: demographics, traffic counts, flood plains, neighborhood associations). They look at changes across time and consider factors that may have led to those changes. They provide data on interventions in cities that elected officials or decision makers want to see when allocating money for public investments.

Public art collaboration: Public art can create changes in the conditions planners track across time. It should be included as a factor in community evaluation.  Inclusion acknowledges public art’s role in community change. When this presence is affirmed with data, great things can happen. Elected officials can allocate resources in accord with public art’s effect on communities. Artists can use this data to make decisions about the most effective locations to work, and communities can also offer more artists more directed input on the changes they would like to see in their communities through art.

2. Planners listen to community members. They talk to people who use the places they study. In these conversations, planners ask themselves questions all the time. How can I effectively communicate? Is this information reaching as many affected people as possible, and is the group I’m talking to representative of the community? Am I translating the desires of the community appropriately into a plan? Will this plan be used by elected officials and community members, or will it end up on a shelf somewhere?

Public art collaboration: Artists are gifted at manifesting concepts and spurring people to think in new ways. If citizen engagement processes involved artists, more people would likely contribute to processes that include the fun and rewarding production of art, alongside a written plan.  This collaborative public art can embody  community values and aspirations, serving as a marker of a social contract between community members and local government to ensure that visions become reality.

3. Planners create strategies. They write plans to guide community investments that affect employment opportunities, health conditions, housing and transportation costs, and the environment.

Public art collaboration: When I’ve talked to planners about why they want public art, they often say “to increase quality of life.” This goal is honorable but amorphous. Public art can be more thoughtfully integrated into specific planning strategies. For example, in a neighborhood facing high rates of obesity and diabetes, a collection of interactive and inspiring public art pieces can encourage physical activity. This public art intervention, in concert with a wider strategy for better health, could help a community reach measurable public health goals.

And the artist-planner relationship is reciprocal. Planners can ensure cities have spaces that work well for all types of public art: temporary works; performance art; and permanent work, whether standalone or integrated in the urban environment. In the past, planners did not prioritize these kinds of spaces, so carving them into the landscape posed challenges.  However, planners today create policies that encourage walkable communities that provide public spaces and, thankfully, better accommodate public art.

Across the U.S., it’s not difficult to find artistic practice that espouses community transformation. Likewise, it’s hard to find a place that does not want the arts to be a source of change in their communities. There are many entry points for collaboration along planning processes, and each discipline can be more effective, inspiring, and transformative with the participation of the other.

As a newly-minted city planner, I’d like my career to sit squarely at the intersection of arts and planning (Oldenburg callback reverently intended). I’m open to meeting artists and planners there for coffee any time.

The Emerging Leaders in Public Art Blog Salon is generously sponsored by Carnegie Mellon University.

Michelle Laflamme-Childs

What do you think of when you hear the words, “public art?” A figurative bronze sculpture of a local hero or historical figure? Perhaps a large, brightly painted, abstract steel sculpture on your local University campus? Maybe even a landscape painting that hangs in the lobby of City Hall behind Plexiglas?

Well, here are some things that might not immediately spring to mind:

• A “Dance Bomb” by a contemporary Indigenous dance company¹,
• A large, temporary mandala constructed in a town center from the bread and seeds of local residents, washed away hours later by a large rainstorm²,
• A 50 foot digital dome showing an interactive immersive video project of a ground-breaking temporary installation by Chinese dissident artist Ai Weiwei and a Navajo artist in remote Navajo Country³,
• A flock of ceramic birds decorated with words and text of controversial histories or personal stories “landing” in a park or parking lot for a day, then disappearing⁴.

All of the above are examples of valid forms of public art. The projects in the second list, however, are examples of the exciting sea change we’re seeing in the field, and are a very small sampling of actual, cutting-edge projects that have taken place in New Mexico in the last few years.

Coming from the non-profit arts world, where my focus was on art as a catalyst for social change through work that embraced social justice, environmental responsibility, and cultural freedom, I was worried that moving to a “state sponsored” public art program would require me to let these ideals go. It did not take me long to realize that this was a completely unfounded worry. Bronze sculptures and landscape paintings will always have a place in public art, but they are no longer all that public art is.

Public art administrators, curators, and artists are seeking ways to not simply show the public something, but to engage the public, sometimes even to disrupt the public’s status quo. Work can move away from often staid, intimidating, bureaucratic public buildings and into busy, non-traditional public spaces. Public art can ask questions about stories of place, histories, or communities, rather than simply offer answers.

The UK based Curatorial Collective, Situations, has embarked on a year-long series of talks, films, publications, and workshops entitled “Public Art (Now)”designed to explore exactly this movement. Unfortunately, the UK is pretty far away from New Mexico, so I won’t get to participate directly in any of these events. However, they have developed and published a list of what they call the “New Rules of Public Art” that I think sums up the direction we’re going quite nicely–so well in fact, that I have the poster hanging on my office wall as a daily reminder (you can download and hang it up too). Check out the link above for the detailed descriptions, but here are the headlines of the “New Rules:”

1) It doesn’t have to look like public art.

2) It’s not forever.

3) Create space for the unplanned.

4) Don’t make it for a community. Create a community.

5) Withdraw from the cultural arms race.

6) Demand more than fireworks.

7) Don’t embellish, interrupt.

8) Share ownership freely, but authorship wisely.

9) Welcome outsiders.

10) Don’t waste time on definitions.

11) Suspend your disbelief.

12) Get lost.

Wow, right? The best part is that we don’t have to lose traditional public art to make room for this new wave. The public art universe is continually expanding, and can easily encompass and embrace both new and old forms. It’s truly an exciting time to be in the field, and I couldn’t be happier to have found my way to it, especially in such a diverse, culturally rich, and innovative state like New Mexico.

¹ Dancing Earth Indigenous Dance Company

² “Bread Drawing” by Chrissie Orr as part of New Mexico Arts’ TIME project Silver City: Alchemy

³ New Mexico Arts’ NAVAJO TIME: Coyote Canyon–Pull of the Moon

⁴ Artist Christy Hengst’s Birds in the Park

The Emerging Leaders in Public Art Blog Salon is generously sponsored by Carnegie Mellon University.

Anna Blyth

One thing I can say for sure is that every day for the last ten years I have had tea and toast for breakfast. In spite of that, I have managed to fashion a unique career in Arts Administration that has been far from stale. In December, I even mixed up my bread choices and after over a decade as a program coordinator and media manager at New Mexico Arts, I joined the City of Santa Fe Arts Commissionas Program Planner,and took my first shot of the real espresso that is public art.

So while I have worked in arts administration for many years, I am a newbie to Public Art. I should preface this to say that over the years I have dipped my toe in the public art pool and have always been aware of engaging public art on the periphery of my vision through the innovative TIME (Temporary Installations Made for the Environment) program presented by New Mexico Arts. I marketed and sent out press releases and attended wonderful openings and met phenomenal artists, but I had never been a part of the actual bricks and mortar of public art, it was just something I flirted with. I visited but never moved in. I had an understanding that calls for artists were issued, selection processes took place, and artists were selected for projects, but then it was like “voila” – a commission was installed and I encountered these beautiful works in public spaces with commissions that were thoughtfully incorporated into the unique architecture of the place. It was still just tea with a touch of milk.

In my new position, get out the coffee grinder because I am making a strong Cup of Joe, and bring on the organic butter for my toast. I have moved into the neighborhood and the residents have been nothing but welcoming. My first projects have been to promote and encourage participation in our Art on Loan Program. Art on Loan is an interesting approach to public art that creates an evolving collection of public art in our community. It is truly a partnership of private individuals and/or arts businesses and the public sector (City of Santa Fe Arts Commission) to enhance our public spaces in Santa Fe and increase exposure for participating artists. I was excited to sample the local blend and continue the work of this respected and well-established program. Wherein artists have not only contributed to their community through the loan of artwork at their own cost, but some have actually donated their work to the City of Santa Fe’s public art collection. Forget the French Vanilla and bring on the Sumatra.

In my first few months on the job, while sipping a medium roast, I have been privileged to meet with individual artists and gallery owners, as well as community members representing sites for public art. The process has been fascinating and inspiring. My first installation nearly ended in tears as the stucco in a lovingly crafted base crumbled due to our summer monsoon conditions. During the second installation, I watched with heart in hand as an improvised installer navigated a tall ladder with complete irreverence for height, just because he cared and wanted to get it right. The installation ended with hugs and this time tears of joy as a beautiful new artwork was put into place at our Community Convention Center. In the course of a work day, I may find myself at our Municipal Golf Course, Municipal Airport, or local architect’s office and often find myself thinking “is this for real? That I get to do this for a living?”

I have never taken the public art process lightly or assumed that projects “just happened,” but it’s been humbling and gratifying to experience first-hand from the technical assistance related to issuing a call for artists, to working with artists who are putting themselves and their work out there every time they apply. I am also learning that adaptability and a certain level of calm is required, as installations present their own unique challenges and opportunities. If you don’t have it by now, the public art field will certainly encourage the development of empathy and humor. I think I may be up for this public art business as it is a strong and hearty brew.

The Emerging Leaders in Public Art Blog Salon is generously sponsored by Carnegie Mellon University.