His iron sculpture for a neo-Gothic hall at the Yale University Art Gallery makes the space nonfunctional for any gathering or display.
Maya Lin’s design was the object of debate for its abstraction. Some members of the review committee held their own opinions on how a monument should look, and were oblivious to its clean lines and intellectual rigor. The oblique V-shape pointed at one end to the Washington Monument on the Mall and at the other to the Lincoln Memorial. Its shape echoed the stripe of the privates who bore the brunt of combat. The wedge bored into the ground so that visitors descended as they read the names of the dead on the wall, while their reflections appeared wraith-like in the polished black marble—for some a statement of visual eloquence to rival anything written of the underworld by Virgil or Dante, for others a severe abstraction. The names of the dead increased in number as the war escalated, forcing the wedge to dig deeper into the earth, then diminished as the conflict came to a conclusion, with only a few names at each opposite point. In spite of the controversy, the sculpture was installed, but, as an afterthought, Fred Hart’s bronze group of soldiers was added. For some it added an unnecessary touch of kitsch, marring the minimal purity of the design and its intellectual dignity. Given the difficulties of trying to conform with the multivalent tastes of a heterogeneous public, sculpture in the public domain is never free of risk or controversy.
5
THE LEGAL ISSUE
Standard Oil contract No. 44–0641–5034 stipulated that the sculpture was to be original (p. 3, article 10.1); that it could not be copied by the artist except in 2-D or small-scale 3-D (10.2); that it could not be copied or duplicated by OWNER (Standard Oil) (10.3); that OWNER could make photographs, films, etc., but could not use the work for promotional purposes (10.4); that the artist owned all studies, preliminary drawings, etc., except the original maquette (10.5); and that the artist reserved the right to copyright the work. Article 11.4 stipulated that “[i]n case of dispute, CONTRACTOR (the sculptors) shall continue to prosecute the work pending determination thereof, unless requested by OWNER to suspend the work,” which would seem to grant Standard Oil control of the installation, although this was probably intended to deal with construction problems. Article 15 provided a termination right to Standard Oil only if the City did not grant approval of the project (which had been given on September 15, 1985). Oldenburg’s letter of March 19, 1986, stated, “The Free Stamp is not only ‘site specific’ but an integral part of the plaza and architecture of the new Standard Oil Building developed in consultation with the architects Gyo Obata and James McDonald. . . . Therefore, the Free Stamp cannot be resited, only eliminated.”
Anna Choko of the law firm of Squire, Sanders & Dempsey argued in an in-house memo of March 29, 1986, as a preliminary finding, that the sculptors had to show that they suffered damages from the rejection of their sculpture, or that there was no adequate remedy.1 Because Oldenburg and van Bruggen had completed their function, Standard Oil had no further obligation. The sculpture’s installation would create an “undue hardship” on the employer (Standard Oil) in erecting something it no longer wanted, and the contract had set no limits on the removal of the work. She advised that the statement of rejection had to be tactful and strategic so that the sculptors could not claim that rejection harmed their reputation, ergo the persistent declaration that “the sculpture was inappropriate.”2 In another memo, of May 8, 1986, Choko posed questions of rights an artist has to his work when its ownership is vested in another, and whether changing the site of a sculpture altered, distorted, and misrepresented the artist’s work to the public.3 She opined,
It is highly unlikely that a court will hold that a sculpture, even though distinguishable from most other forms of art in that it bears a greater relationship to the site at which it is located will be altered or mutilated by placement at an alternative site. . . . It is difficult to imagine and highly unlikely that a court would arrive at the conclusion . . . that an artist has a right not to have his work mutilated, distorted or altered, could be extrapolated so far as to characterize the moving of the site of the sculpture as mutilating that sculpture so that it substantially departs from the original. Oldenburg, the artist would have to argue that his work encompasses not only his sculpture but both the Free Stamp and the site in front of the Standard Oil building to make the argument that moving the site is distorting and thereby misrepresenting his art work, the sculpture.
Choko cautioned, however, that “[w]hile an opinion, as indicated in Redgrave, may not be actionable, the wiser course in dealing with the decision not to place Free Stamp would be to make as little public statement as possible. Whatever message others would take from Standard Oil’s decision not to put Free Stamp in front of its building would be that which those others read into the decision and not a message directly or explicitly intended and stated by Standard Oil.”4
A U.S. court has yet to side with an artist objecting to the move of a sculpture claimed to be site specific.
6
IMPASSE June 1986 to September 1989
Every true work of art has violated an established genre, and in this way confounded the ideas of critics, who thus found themselves compelled to broaden the genre.
—Benedetto Croce, Estetica
Behind-the-scenes activities to resolve the placement of Free Stamp began just weeks after Horton’s announcement of its rejection, and took place initially without the sculptors’ participation or knowledge. Indeed, the artists in their Manhattan studio would be unaware of much of the controversy provoked by local talk show hosts, TV commentaries, newspaper cartoons, and letters to the editor. The Cleveland Museum of Art issued a press release on September 6, 1985, announcing an exhibition, Sculpture in Public Places, which contained twenty-five works, including a model of Free Stamp.1 This was intended to remind the public of the rich tradition of public sculpture and to spur the authorities to facilitate the installation of Oldenburg and van Bruggen’s work. In July of 1986, less than a month after Mayor Voinovich had volunteered Willard Park, Evan Turner suggested to Horton a plaza space on the other side of city hall next to the county courthouse (Mall C).2 In the end, ten prospective sites were discussed, not all of which were brought to the attention of the sculptors and any one of which would have required their eventual approval. The chosen site would also have to be agreeable to Mayor Voinovich and Messrs. Forbes and Horton.
Evan Turner’s suggestion of Mall C was pursued by Dunn, who indicated that this location was problematic because it was the joint responsibility of Cuyahoga County and the City of Cleveland, and because of projected plans to build on it.3 Morrison explored its suitability by asking the city architect, Paul Volpe, to report on the mall as a setting for a monumental sculpture. He found that Mall C, an open green space, was also the roof for the Cleveland Convention Center, and that only one place, approximately at the center of the area under consideration, would be able to support the work, and only with buttressed foundations to carry the added weight of the sculpture. Morrison and Ed Richard, the mayor’s executive assistant, concluded from these observations that Mall C would not be suitable.
Now that the mayor had added Willard Park to the equation, Richard worried about convincing the president of city council, George Forbes, of its merits.4 A ten-month impasse ensued until Giorgianni wrote to Lippincott on January 26, 1988, to suggest the possibility of a harborfront location. This was long after Oldenburg and van Bruggen had visited Cleveland to consider other sites, and after they had made clear that a new location would necessitate a changed design. In the sculptors’ absence, city staff members prepared models from their new maquette, with the sculpture now lying on its side rather than upright. They explored the sculpture facing different directions on the East Ninth Street Pier (now Voinovich Park). The sculpture, although large, seemed lost
