Occupy Boston has done something no one so far had been able to do. It has given the Greenway—heretofore fraught with controversy, ridicule, delight, bafflement, skepticism, disappointment or scorn—the gravitas it has needed.
After all, protestors don’t just go anywhere. Protests need important, iconic, public spaces. If the Greenway weren’t important or iconic, or even, as some people charged, public, it is now. It had no legitimacy. It had no history, like other Boston parks do. Now it does.
So I took the time to look again at this evolving stretch of park between two roads and on top of another one. This time something new impressed me—the many inviting three-dimensional objects, of which the tents and their occupants are only one example.
The Harbor Fog installation has always been a favorite. So has another sculptural object, the carousel, which attracted more than 100,000 riders this season. A new, permanent carousel seems to be moving along. Donors have given $1.8 million toward the $3 million Greenway officials believe it will cost, said Nancy Brennan, the Greenway’s executive director. Design development for the new carousel is almost complete, she said, and when it is, they can pin down the costs. Brennan is hopeful that several funding requests that have been submitted to various entities will be successful. If so, the new carousel could be installed by the summer of 2013.
Another three-dimensional installation, the labyrinth in the Armenian Heritage Park, had a set-back when the design had to be adjusted because of underground surprises, but it is back in construction, looking at a spring opening.
One of the three-dimensional surprises in the park has been the sculpture installed this summer in a grassy area in conjunction with the deCordova Museum. The works have had their critics. Some reviewers maintained that the sculptures are not powerful or hefty enough. Instead they are whimsical. Bostonians are often so serious about such things. Two squat pumpkins lie on the grass near a cartwheeling, walking flower-like heavy wire sculpture and a detailed tree of knowledge. Contrasting and eye-catching. They work for me.
Those who don’t like fun in sculpture are not going to like a 22-foot long rose sculpture that “Make Way for Ducklings” sculptor Nancy Schon has in mind. Last summer Schon noticed that the petals on the roses in her garden were heart-shaped. She began thinking of Rose Kennedy and the Greenway that had been named after her. So she fashioned a scale model in wax of a reclining rose stem to show the Greenway folks.
Her rose stem rises four and a half feet off the ground in places, a perfect size for children to climb on. Each part symbolizes something in Mrs. Kennedy’s life. Twenty-two feet indicates her birthday, July 22, and the day she died, January 22. Nine leaves stand for her nine children. The stamen contains 35 anthers. JFK was the 35th president of the United States. There would be thorns because no one can live to be 104 without having to endure thorny problems. The rose would be cast in silicone bronze, the hardest and most enduring of metals.
This is not a done deal. The Greenway recently established a public art master planning process with a committee comprised of artists, curators, urban designers, members of the Boston Art Commission and a host of others. In January or February, the group will conduct meetings to hear what the public wants in terms of art. By June, Brennan expects to have a process in place so artists can make proposals. She would like the outcome to be a road map for a changing world of sculpture that serves local artists as well as attracting those of international stature. Others will probably say that local artists should take precedence.
It will be interesting to follow the discussion and the decision-making. It would be nice if public art gave enjoyment to the public. Sculptures can be funny or surprising. They can elicit emotions. They can be so beautiful that you don’t want to leave. They can be interactive. They can also be powerful. They can be boring.
The ducklings are an example of sculpture that gives enormous pleasure to people. Children are always on climbing on them. Parents and grandparents are always photographing them. The area is lively. It’s fun. But fun is often suspect in this city.
I’m betting that grumpiness, being a historic (hysteric?) reaction in good old Boston, will play a role in the selection of the art. I’m also betting that when the swan boats went in more than a century ago, there was a round of complaint from observers who begrudged people having fun.
As Brennan points out, the Greenway has no traditions behind it as other Boston parks have. It can be anything, including, as it has been recently, an encampment. Let’s hope that the process of finding guidelines for the parks casts a wide net.
And while they are there, maybe the Occupy Boston people can make some art.