Sometime in the first 10 days of February, contractors working for Phoenix Development Partners disassembled the sculpture Peter John from its home outside Blue Cross/Blue Shield’s offices and had its materials recycled. No announcement preceded the removal, and for many weeks the exact fate of the sculpture was unknown, even to the artist. That the sculpture could have been saved raises serious doubts for cultural preservation in Downtown Milwaukee.
Of the 48 artists invited to submit designs for a new work of public art to occupy Blue Cross/Blue Shield’s headquarters at 401 W. Michigan St., only John Raimondi flew out to see the space. “I guess I was hungrier than the others,” he said. He was 28, a junior in a group that included major national artists like Richard Hunt and Louise Nevelson. “I designed that sculpture specifically for the space, and I think that’s why I won.”
The design, which featured a large steel spire intersected by a dramatic secondary spire set at a sharp angle outward, underwent rigorous review before it was finally selected for construction. The jury not only included a curator from the Milwaukee Art Museum and the leadership at Blue Cross/Blue Shield, but representatives from neighboring parties like Marquette University. Even the money for the sculpture, which was bequeathed to the insurance company by a wealthy donor grateful for the care given to his wife, expressed a spirit of community.
“It was a very good example of public art,” says Diane Buck, author of Outdoor Sculpture in Milwaukee. “It was public art done more-or-less right.”
Stay on top of the news of the day
Subscribe to our free, daily e-newsletter to get Milwaukee's latest local news, restaurants, music, arts and entertainment and events delivered right to your inbox every weekday, plus a bonus Week in Review email on Saturdays.
Cities change, and works of public art that were once important can suddenly no longer be relevant. Even before the contractor’s fences went up around 401 W. Michigan St., few members of Milwaukee’s arts community thought the sculpture would be included in the building’s new life as urban housing.
Yet no plan had been made for the sculpture’s sale or donation. When workers began quietly cutting the sculpture apart, the two groups interested in its preservation, Phoenix Development Partners and the Milwaukee Arts Board, both claim to have been waiting months to hear back from the other.
Their discussions never got past initial contact. In November of last year, developer John Mangel contacted Polly Morris, chair of the Public Art Subcommittee of the Arts Board, and Dave Misky, assistant executive secretary of the Redevelopment Authority, about finding a new home for the sculpture. Morris responded that it would be difficult, but promised to bring the matter up the next day at a regular meeting of the Arts Board. She did, and after the meeting several other board members became involved.
At this point communication broke down, and a close look into events makes it clear that attempts on both sides to make contact were minimal and uncoordinated. When, after months of inactivity, the sculpture vanished, only a handful of cursory emails and phone messages attested to any effort to save it.
Measured against the efforts that brought Peter John to Milwaukee, the preparations for its removal, or deaccessioning, were slight at best. This is the irony of public art in private spaces, Raimondi says, “where several permits are necessary to install it, but none are needed to remove it.”
Much more could have been done. First, the developers admit that there was no rush in removing the sculpture and that several months’ further delay would not have adversely affected the 401’s redevelopment. Nor was finding the artwork a new home a hopeless endeavor. Raimondi has gone on record as being willing to buy it back, valuing his work at between $250,000 and $300,000. He never had the chance, since he was never contacted by developers or the Arts Board. Even without a buyer in the wings, donating the sculpture would net the developers a healthy tax credit, potentially countering the costs of relocation.
That so many options were left on the table casts Phoenix Development Partners’ claims at giving “best proactive efforts to find a partner” in ill light, and raises doubts about the city’s commitment to the numerous other artworks that could someday sit in the path of Downtown redevelopment.
Other cities take the responsible deaccessioning of privately held artwork as critical for preserving their cultural heritage, and Milwaukee may be moving in a similar direction. Alderman Michael Murphy, chair of the Milwaukee Arts Board, says following the destruction of Peter John, the board is undertaking a review of best practices and hopes to have a clear procedure for deaccessioning of privately held works in a few months.
For the moment, the fate of Milwaukee’s art heritage remains in the hands of a handful of concerned individuals. “Late 20th-century art [like Peter John] is currently out of favor, so it’s easy to remove and forget about them,” says Diane Buck. One wonders when fashions change, will publicly beloved, privately held artworks like Ned Khan’s Wind Leaves or Magdalena Abakanowicz’s Birds of Knowledge of Good and Evil be similarly overlooked?
|
|
