Thinking About “Lobby Art”
An art glass installation for the GTECH Center lobby, Providence, RI. 2006.
After recently reading some musings from Andrea Kirsh on “lobby art” in museums, I’ve been reflecting on my own glass work in lobbies and the somewhat contested genre of lobby art.
For example, does art in a lobby have a different value or purpose than art more deeply nested within a building? Wherein lies the difference between art selected for a lobby versus art created for a lobby? What different kinds of choices are involved in thinking about art for, say, a hotel or hospital lobby versus a museum lobby?
Art critic Gayle Clemans, in a Seattle Times review, notes that “lobby art” can be a touchy term, suggesting “the kind of blandly acceptable, nonthreatening art that administrators and designers seem to think is required in public lobbies.” Yet she then proceeds to praise seven compelling examples of lobby art, all created by different artists for Seattle City Light’s elevator lobbies in the Seattle Municipal Tower.
Clemans proposes that these works are successful for the following reasons:
- They are visually pleasing.
- They are (at least ostensibly) politically neutral.
- They meet their commissioner’s goals of enhancing the workplace and drawing attention to the company’s mission.
- They are stimulating and mesmerizing.
Clemans believes that last point is the one that sets the Seattle City Light works apart from less compelling examples of lobby art. They don’t just look nice or fulfill a functional purpose; they also provoke contemplation and wonder.
“Nimbus” by Victoria Haven, in the elevator lobby on the 35th floor of Seattle’s Municipal Tower. Photo by Spike Mafford (via seattle.gov).
I have to agree with Clemans; though, with regard to her last point, I don’t think this distinction is specific to art in lobbies. Indeed it’s the fine line between any mediocre versus great work of art.
First, I agree with Cleman’s last point that great art must be stimulating and mesmerizing. Another way to say that might be that it must be conceived with genuine imagination. So much corporate art lacks that quality. They lack life.
One might refine the third point after reading John Berger to say that art in the lobby might less bring attention to the corporations’s mission, than to increase the public image of the corporation through the notion of ownership (“I am so powerful, I can own this!”). The “Koch Brothers” woo the public and manage their image with excellent programming on PBS, while they try to buy elections. On this point, artists also might have points of view that support or don’t support such enterprises, but in any case, would that not present an ethical dilemma and a special responsibility for the artist?
Andy, thank you for your comment.
Undoubtedly, art has always served many purposes, some good, some evil, beyond what many would consider the inherent nature of art. As you note, Andy, the art in the lobby may imply of the corporation, “I am so powerful, I can own this!”, or it may suggest, “I [the corporation] value things other than pure profit and wish to provide a better environment and cultural experience for my employees, customers, and community.” (Not to mention supporting artists in the process.)
This is not a defense of corporations, but it does point to the larger question, if one does good for the wrong reasons, does it still count? The Koch Brothers, as you note, manage their image by sponsoring programs on PBS. Yet, I get to enjoy the programming.
Perhaps, a more poignant example is charitable giving. I give to charity, say, because it gives me a momentary boost to my ego when I am writing out that check. One might argue that I am giving for the wrong reasons. But the person receiving the charity nevertheless benefits.
With regard to an artist’s special responsibility, is this any different from the situation we all find ourselves in, artist or not, when we engage in transactions with any enterprise whose policies and practices we don’t agree with one hundred percent?
I’ve come to realize that sometimes presentation is half the battle. In a way, it s a bit unfortunate that the context implies so much of the work’s meaning; BUT, it is inherent, and is not a problem, unless the associations are negative.
Take the work out of the bank lobby and into the MoMA lobby and it’s an entirely different ballgame. The work doesn’t actually change, as we know, but it is our gosh darn perceptions which are altered. URGHHHHHH!!!!
There’s this one guy that every time I go to the super market and am pulling away from the parking lot, he races up besides me and says, “Hey, Buddy!! I’ll fix that dent on the side of your Jeep REAL cheap…and fast, too!” I look at the vehicle he’s driving and it is a clunker with dents and damage everywhere. A part of me thinks why should I let this man “fix” my dent when his looks like poo? Then I give him the benefit of the doubt and start conjuring numerous excuses as to why his vehicle is in such bad shape and how it shouldn’t affect the work he’d do on mine. I still politely tell him no thanks, tho. —- In other words: the whole judge-a-book-by-its-cover cliche`.
If the work is great, then it’s great! If it sucks, then it sucks! — MoMA or no MoMA, lobby or no lobby.
Al, thank you for your comment.
As is often said, packaging is everything. Recognizing that, one can reject or embrace it. Is that cynical? For my own part, I am acutely aware that once I remove my work from the clutter of my studio and place it in a clean, gallery-like environment, I can see it better. And, (usually) it looks better.
While I try not to judge a book by its cover, I’d avoid anyone who can do anything “REAL cheap.”