Chicago’s Millenium Park must have been built on an old Indian graveyard or something. It’s the only explanation for the evil I keep seeing in that place.
First there was Frank Gehry’s hideous “bandshell”. Now I’ve learned from “The Directory of Wonderful Things,” (a.k.a. Boing Boing) that it is also home to this ridiculous doo-dad:
The official title of this chromium thingamabob is “Cloud Gate,” but Chicago locals, including representatives of the press, have apparently given it a far more descriptive name: “The Bean.” The guy who designed it, a London-based sculptor named Anish Kapoor, is not pleased by the nickname and is raising a stink about its use. In an article explaining the controversy, Kapoor is quoted as saying that a recent Chicago Sun-Times headline that used the nickname was “completely stupid” and “very unnecessary.”
This little cultural tempest-in-a-teapot provokes two responses from me. The first is a general reaction against the object itself. I’m not necessarily opposed to abstract sculpture, which I tend to like more than abstract paintings. I have encountered some pieces that I find pleasing simply as shapes that occupy space in a particular way, which I’ve always assumed is the point of such works. But really, a giant mirrored bean? I don’t get it.
Perhaps I’ll be revealing myself as an ignorant philistine by saying this, but I simply don’t understand how something like this could be called inspired, inspirational, or even particularly interesting. Oh, I suppose you could argue that it’s fun to look at the reflected images in its surface — the changing sky, the ebbing and flowing crowds, even an image of yourself, no doubt distorted by the organic curve of the mirror — but what is so unique or special about that? Mirrored surfaces are all around us in urban settings, thanks to unimaginative skyscrapers that resemble nothing so much as giant ice-cube trays turned on their ends. Being nothing more than another reflective surface, albeit one with an unusual shape, “The Bean” renders itself absolutely banal, as far as I’m concerned. I’m sure some artsy types might tell me that the point of it is to force the viewer to confront himself and what it means to exist in the urban oasis of the park, or some such nonsense. Whatever. Rationalize all you want, folks, but I’m glad my taxes didn’t pay for this silly thing.
As for the denizens of Chicago calling this thing “The Bean” instead of “Cloud Gate”… well, sorry, Mr. Kapoor, your work looks like a bean. Ordinary, art-ignorant citizens tend to give things nicknames. It’s not necessarily meant to be disrespectful. I have a theory, actually, that it’s a way for people to process something that they don’t fully comprehend (through no fault of their own, when it comes to things like this). For example, here in Salt Lake, we have a public artwork called “Asteroid Landed Softly,” but everyone I know refers to it “Potato on a Stick.”
Now, personally, I kind of like this thing. When viewed from certain angles, the mirrored column seems to disappear and gives the illusion of a rock floating fifteen feet above Gallivan Plaza. But from most angles, it looks like, well, an impaled tuber. Most folks probably don’t even know the object’s official name. It’s just easier to say, “Hey, you know that thing in downtown that looks like a spud on a stick? Well, the other day I was standing by that thing…”
Nice comparison… The Bean versus The Spud on a Stick. 🙂
You know I have high-falutin’ taste in art, and that I like Frank Gehry. 😉
I actually kind of like the Bean, but I can see where the ridicule comes from. On the campus of Utah State University there’s a piece of public art called Sojourn (http://arts.utah.gov/publicart/10russell.html) that I’ve heard called “Fallen Ice Cream Cone” and “Bird”. (My uncle went on a tirade once about how stupid it was and that the University shouldn’t have spent the money on it that they did. He thought it was a travesty… but I kind of like it.)
I think the artist shouldn’t get his knickers in a twist just because people are calling his sculpture names. It’s hard for artists not to think of their art as their children, but when they put their work out, it’s going to be criticized. Better criticism than vandalism, which is what happened to this piece at UVSC (http://arts.utah.gov/publicart/9johnston.html) one of the higher-ups at the university took an extreme disliking and an ax to it back in 1995, and it had to be reinstalled. The artist was so hurt that he painted it black.
(I wasn’t sure if links would work in a posted comment…)
I’ve seen “Sojourn” and actually quite like that one, just as I like “Asteroid,” which doesn’t make much sense to me given my reactions to other works. I don’t know why some of these pieces work for me while others leave me cold. “Sojourn” and “Spud”? No problem. “The Bean” and pretty much anything I’ve seen of Gehry’s? Ugh. I guess it really all is subjective, at least for me. I probably shouldn’t be so quick to denounce works that I admittedly don’t understand. I know just enough about this stuff to get myself in trouble. 🙂
As for vandalism, well, that’s absolutely unacceptable, I don’t care how much you dislike a particular artwork…
So all this talk about obscurities… what about the Tree of Utah? A giant, concrete behemoth in the middle of a sprawling salt flat…..
http://www.roadsideamerica.com/attract/UTWENmetaphor.html
Although I like the futuristic and Hoosier yard-ball aspect of the “bean” in Millenium Park, there’s nothing like driving out in BFE and seeing a hundred foot tree with colored balls sitting there in the mirage-like fumes of the desert.
The Tree is another one that I actually like, not so much because I like the sculpture itself but because I like how it functions in its location. As you say, it’s pretty wild to come across this thing out there in the middle of nowhere. And it makes a nice landmark to let you know you’re almost to Wendover…
The Tree of Utah is actually pretty infamous at my office… the artist tried to donate it to the State of Utah, and was refused due to the MASSIVE cost of upkeep. It needs a lot of repairs, but no one has the money to do it.
What sort of repairs? I’ve never noticed any obvious signs of decay (of course, I’m always passing it at about 80 mph, too…) And if the state didn’t accept the donation, does the artist still officially own the thing?
I will have to double-check on the ownership of the Tree… it may indeed be owned by the State of Utah, but I KNOW the State doesn’t have the money for its upkeep. When most public art projects are commissioned, a portion of the allocated money is kept by the State in a maintenance fund, and we have no such thing for the Tree.
Anyway.
It’s corroding, and from what I understand, bolts are falling out. Plus it gets vandalized a lot.
Again with the vandalism. I never have understood why people do that. It’s one thing to paint your name on something like an old concrete underpass (there’s one in Bluffdale that probably has fifty years’ worth of paint on it; fascinating work for an archeologist, eh?) but defacing something that’s obviously meant as decoration? I just don’t get it.
Too bad there’s so little money to go around, too…