This week’s announcement of Olafur Eliasson’s upcoming public art project New York City Waterfalls thrilled me. I was already eagerly anticipating his show at MoMA; the installation of several one-hundred foot waterfalls that appear to float above the East River sounds visually hypnotic. It’s a beautiful hybrid of Eliasson’s perceptual / elemental themes and a chance for public engagement with one of the worlds foremost artists.
Interestingly, Steve Kaplan at Art World Salon notes the press conference announcing the project included “constant reference(s) to the Waterfalls being “carbon neutral … as if this was the major selling point, as important as the work itself.” He goes on to point out that Christo’s Gates came with the promise that no taxpayer money would be involved, and now Eliasson’s work will not only be privately funded, but totally ecologically cost-free. (It should be noted that Gates generated over $250 million in revenues for the city according to Bloomberg; he estimates a modest $50 million boon for Waterfalls.)
So what does this rush to assure New Yorkers they will pay no cost whatsoever – financially or ecologically – say about art’s cost / benefit ratio in the public mind? Kaplan cuts to the chase:
Well, who can blame even the most culturally supportive taxpayer for asking “Yes, but what is this going to cost, and what sort of return will we be getting?” given the current state of education, health care, etc.? I don’t think Bloomberg was worried about Waterfalls being “politically orthodox or acceptable to the largest number of constituents”; I think he was heading off accusations that Waterfalls is a economic and environmental boondoggle, an ecologically harmful investment of time and money.
If the material costs of public art are to be “acknowledged and embraced,” a serious shift in public perception of art is required. Increased emphasis on art’s content versus cost would be a lovely start. The “art world,” long thought of as disgusting in it’s excess, could use better PR. Yes, there is absurdity and repulsion in the hyper-moneyed art game, but people have got to be taken beyond “the molten hot contemporary market” and be shown that there do exist smaller galleries, collectives, and artists who are striving to keep art a democratic, inclusive process.
Art’s primary purpose is to illustrate an idea, to give form to a vision. While existentially fulfilling and potentially mind-expanding, people unfortunately don’t see ideas as investments having tangible returns. And no one wants to build a playground for millionaire eccentrics and haughty snobs while the city’s children could use one, too. Left unchecked, these perceptions will likely keep public art a hard sell for a good long time.
