Spacejunk in the Garden
#585
This week’s big news is that the Art Gallery of NSW has a new director. Maud Page has graduated to the top job from the Deputy position, taking over from the late, unlamented Michael Brand. I know everybody is waiting for me to have an opinion on this appointment, but in all fairness I think every new director of a major cultural institution has to be given a year or two in the job to see how they perform. I’d normally say three years, but in Maud’s case, as she is already familiar with the gallery and its ongoing problems, the time for settling-in can be reduced.
Nevertheless, directors should be judged on their actions, and Maud hasn’t been on the throne long enough to allow us to draw any conclusions. So fingers crossed!
Instead, my topic this week is a distressing story from Perth which rings alarm bells about the way local councils negotiate the ever-tricky topic of public art. This is always a controversial area but rarely does one come across a more ham-fisted approach, or a more pungent aroma of fishiness.
Helen Curtis, who worked for the City of Perth in the arts team for 13 years, is blowing the whistle about how last year, the Council “accepted a ‘gift’ of an artwork that the City is now spending $250k on, with $171k going to the USA artist and his local gallery.”
The City is proposing to install this expensive foreign “gift” in the historic Stirling Gardens, in place of a much-loved icon. There has been no independent professional advice, no public consultation, and as yet, no response to a petition with 1,180 signatures. At a recent Council meeting a detailed submission with a list of questions was taken on notice. Answers are required within two weeks, but Curtis and her colleagues duly expect to be fobbed off with further obfuscation.
The sculpture that was removed in 2021 was Paul Ritter’s Ore Obelisk, which has stood in Stirling Gardens since the 1970s. A tribute to the mining industries that have made Western Australia wealthy, the sculpture, which gathers different ore samples around a central pole, was affectionately known as “the kebab”.
The work being proposed as a replacement is a piece called Boonji Spaceman by Brendan Murphy, an American artist “often compared to Jeff Koons” (aside from the fact that Jeff Koons is in all the big museum collections, and Brendan Murphy is not). It’s a seven-metre tall, shiny chrome model of an astronaut covered in graffiti. It’s also a replica of numerous other spacemen by this artist, found in public places around the world, from Antigua to Oslo.
In brief, the Council is on the verge of dumping a popular 50-year-old work of public art by a Perth sculptor and offoceholder, in favour of a factory-produced multiple by a self-styled American super salesman. Although the Spaceman is allegedly a gift, Curtis notes that the cost of acquiring and installing the work has blown out from $50,000 to $171,000. She also notes that the City has agreed to fly the artist out and pay for his accommodation while he is having an exhibition at a local commercial outlet, Gullotti Galleries.
The Save the Kebab campaign, of which Curtis is a spokesperson, points out that all these actions run roughshod over the City’s own public arts policy. The group is also asking questions over another longstanding work of public art - Arch by Lorenna Grant - which has been removed from a location in Northbridge and put into “storage” - although a recent photo showed the work chopped up and lying in pieces on open ground. A restoration in situ was at the time costed at $50,000, but now any replacement will cost at least $200,000.
One side observation is how a work of public art that may have been given a hostile reception at first appearance, frequently becomes much loved over time. This is apparently what has happened with Ritter and Grant’s works, but just when they were about to enjoy a mellow old age, the Council has trundled them off into oblivion. On whose say-so? Are we looking at a unilateral decision made by Perth Council CEO, Michelle Reynolds? Any claims that the sculptures were unsafe or deteriorated beyond the point of no return need to be substantiated.
I’m not convinced a chrome spaceman covered in graffiti will inspire the same popular affection, or enjoy the same longevity, when it has nothing to do with Perth or the specific location.
These are the simple facts of the case. I’m not writing investigative journalism, partly because I haven’t the time or resources to gather comments and counter-comments from all concerned parties. I’m coming to this story as a commentator who has written about public art on many occasions, anxious to see what response the Save the Kebab campaign will draw from the Perth City Council.
In the absence of detailed replies to specific questions, one can only speculate about the Council’s motivations. I’m told the City disbanded the Cultural and Arts Advisory Committee and associated sub-committees including the Public Art Advisory Sub-Committee, and chose not to ask neither the surviving Culture and Arts Advisory Group not the Elders Advisory Group for their opinions. They obviously believed such matters could be best decided by Councillors. Although one presumes that some form of advice would have been sought, there’s no indication as to who was consulted.
Where does Gullotti Galleries enter the picture? Who brought the Spaceman proposal to the Council’s attention in the first place? Are there any potentially conflictual relationships between Council members and Gullotti Galleries that should be disclosed? Does the $171,000 paid to the artist’s gallery include a hefty consultancy fee? If not, they’re being seriously ripped off with what they’re paying for freight and installation.
On the face of it, replacing the Ore Obelisk with a factory-produced spaceman by an overseas artist who has no Perth connection, seems a very peculiar idea. Neither is it clear what “Boonji” means. It sounds Aboriginal, but is nothing of the kind. It seems to be a made-up word that Brendan Murphy attaches to sculptures and NFTs.
At the crudest, most basic level, if we avoid any thoughts of mere corruption, we’re left with a group of councillors, with no expertise in the visual arts, who believe their taste is reflective of public taste. Who needs “experts” when anybody can see how cool it would be to stick a shiny spaceman in Stirling Gardens? Who cares if a thousand arty snobs don’t like it? We, the City Council, are the authentic Vox Populi. We have a mandate to impose our own taste on Perth’s urban spaces. We don’t need to account for our decisions, respond to negative public comment or reveal who’s giving us advice.
It's a bit like Donald Trump deciding that the Kennedy Center needs to ditch all that elitist crap and put on a great production of Cats or Fiddler on the Roof. The Council seem to believe that if they take all that old, abstract stuff away and replace it with a funky spaceman, the general public will simply fall in line. All they need do is stall and fudge the troublemakers who want to spoil their party by demanding transparency and due process.
At this stage, the ball is back with the Council, who have a long list of questions that need to be answered. I’m expecting there’ll be a sequel to this tawdry piece of science fiction.
I’m in Hong Kong this week, and the art column is in China, or at least in the part of China being exhibited at Sydney’s White Rabbit Gallery. The current show, XSWL, refers to a Chinese expression which means “Laughing to death”. It’s one way of coping when the world, with all its economic and political hardships, becomes too much to bear. The Chinese are past masters of this kind of black humour, but the rest of us are learning fast.
This week’s movie review is probably the greatest disaster flick since Titanic. Yes, it’s the long-awaited, long-dreaded Snow White. I suspected it would be bad, but it exceeded all expectations. It’s almost the perfect casserole of contemporary political problems, topped off by an Evil Queen who was once in the Israel Defence Forces, and a Snow White who waves the flag for Palestine. This was one problem the Disney corporation could not have anticipated, but there are dozens of others that should have been obvious. In its uncanny ability to know what the public really wants it seems the Disney board is right up there with Perth City Council.