Exploration of Public Art in New York City Reveals the Rules of the Game

Maija Kovari is a sculptor and architect living in Finland. In addition to her own artistic practice, she runs Public Art Agency Finland.

Is public art grander in the larger world? How do structures for the creation and production of art in the public space within a “supercity” like New York differ from those in smaller cities in Finland? Who should learn from whom?

I am both an architect and a sculptor by training. I work both as a professional artist, and in my company, Public Art Agency Finland, as a coordinator of public art projects. In late 2018, I spent three months at Residency Unlimited researching public art in New York City. My primary interest was structures in the field of public art – the ways in which art finds its way into the public space and what issues the public art scene in New York faces.

I was struck by how many similarities there are in the processes, challenges and goals, as well as results – the art itself – in New York compared with the situation in Finland. In this article, I discuss what I learned about such practices from interviewing players and also meeting them in more unofficial contexts. I will not dwell upon the content of the artworks and events I witnessed in the city, but I do encourage you, dear reader, to explore it yourself – online there is no lack of material!! At the end of the text is a list of the interviewees. From the links provided, you can find information about their contributions to public art.

Interest in Public Art is Increasing and Broadening

The amount of public art has increased both in America and Finland in the past few decades, and increasing numbers of contemporary artists are interested in creating art for the public space.

“What’s wonderful is that we’re having a lot of artists doing public art for their first time, so the line between ‘art’ and ‘public art’ has become transferable. In some of the older projects, we could easily say what was a public artwork and what was not: public art was a kind of ugly stepchild of regular contemporary art […] There was such a difference between artists who work in the public realm – they were different than artists who worked in a gallery setting or a museum setting. Now I think we see artists much more interested – at least the ones that come to us, of course – that there is an interest in [studying questions such as] ‘What is the public realm?’ […] We’re not looking at only ‘public artists,’ and I think that blurring line has been interesting and I’m glad to see that more and more.” – Reina Shibata, Deputy Director, Percent for Art | New York City Department of Cultural Affairs

Justin Brice Guariglia’s Climate Signals consists of digital LED panels, similar to highway signs, located around the city of New York. They flash alternating texts relating to climate change in languages spoken in their neighbourhood. The work was produced in partnership with the city’s new Climate Museum and the Mayor’s Office.

The general idea of public art has diversified. Curators and artists are exploring sound art, media art and performance art, as well as other even newer and more inclusionary forms of art, challenging accepted notions of what kinds of artistic expressions are possible in the public space. This diversification is already evident in transient artworks and events, as demonstrated by projects organised by Public Art Fund and No Longer Empty. Reina Shibata continues: “Overall, in New York City in general, there are a lot of different arts non-profits that are bringing artworks outside and into different communities and trying to use it as a tool for social justice and activism.” I mentioned to her that I had just been to see someone from No Longer Empty. “Yes! Projects like that didn’t exist ten years ago […] and that sector, I feel like, is growing rather than sinking.”

The same discussion about differences between experimental event-oriented art and permanent public art is being waged in Finland. Contemporary artists no longer necessarily feel that their works are expressions of eternal truths, nor do they have any desire for their works to remain in the public space for all time. Instead, they want to create something that specifically reflects this day and age. The idea of permanence may, should a commission come their way, even lead imaginative artists to create uninteresting art “just to be on the safe side.” This problem has been recognised in both countries, and it stems in part from the outmoded notion, mentioned by Shibata, that public art is somehow fundamentally different from other contemporary art.

There is nevertheless a need for permanent artistic elements in the public space, and they are perceived as part of the infrastructure. Public art in both countries primarily consist of sculptures and murals and other artworks executed on surfaces, the main reason likely being that weather and time place considerable technical demands on a permanent piece of art, which is then reflected in the choice of materials, for example.

Eduardo Kobra’s mural in West Village is based on five authentic photos from the archives of the Ellis Island Immigration Museum. The people in the pictures are all immigrants of different ages and ethnicities who arrived in New York a hundred years ago via the Ellis Island immigration centre. The work is the largest piece in Kobra’s mural series Colors for Freedom. (By the way, the Ellis Island Immigration Museum was one of the most memorable experiences of my trip to New York – I suggest that you skip the Statue of Liberty tour included in the boat fare and spend the entire day at the museum.)

A public work of art must be able to withstand also inappropriate treatment, such as climbing or downright vandalism. In the United States at least, this conversation also includes issues of responsibility: if someone falls off a work, the hunt for the guilty party is much fiercer than in a country with ubiquitous and nearly free health care. Safety is naturally an important issue in Finland, too, and it interests the payers of health care in particular – the state and municipalities.

If it sometimes seems that public art is all about statues, you could perhaps consider the general stratification of the public space. Walking in a city, you can readily see what public art was like in the 1920s or 1950s – the works are all still there. Because of this historical process of accretion, traditional formats, such as obviously landmark-like sculptures, seem to predominate.

I find myself thinking whether it might be possible to attenuate the conceptual difference between temporary and permanent art and whether that might also help broaden the production of art. Under Finnish copyright law, public artworks are protected virtually forever, except when a work’s duration is limited at the outset. In New York, temporary art is defined as having a maximum lifespan of one year. Moreover, public art in Finland is exposed to such a range of weather conditions in the course of one year that even temporary art must meet similar durability requirements as permanent art.

Artistic and thematic durability is quite another matter. In Finland at least, consideration of lifespan has gained ground in recent times and will probably continue to do so in the future. When a piece of art is originally intended to stay in place for a fixed period of, say, 10 or 15 years, the situation (maintenance, disassembly, new commissions) can be reviewed at the end of the period. This can lend a new measure of freedom to creative thinking and also provide an incentive for commissioning new work.

Rebecca Manson’s Come Closer and the View Gets Wider is made of tiny ceramic elements. It is one of the many temporary artworks in New York parks.

A wide gamut of ambitiously curated art and artists

Public art in New York is highly diverse, and the range of artists runs from amateurs to international professionals. Some of the public artworks in the city are carefully curated, while others are not. Jennifer Lantzas, Public Art Coordinator at the New York City Department of Parks & Recreation, answered my query about their curatorial strategy as follows: “As a city employee, it is my responsibility to bring programming on various topics and of differing abilities to neighborhoods around the city. We must remember that our park users have diverse interests. Ultimately our approval does not hinge on whether I, as a curator, prefer one work over another; but rather whether park visitors will get value from the experience with the work.”

By contrast, other players such as the Public Art Fund (one of the oldest public art organisations in the city) can have a very ambitious and diverse programme and a mission to present topical, artistically relevant artworks.

But finding an artist whose work is relevant and who is also able to respond to the technical and practical challenges beset by any project in the public space, to produce an artwork that is capable of surviving in the rough conditions outside of a gallery, is just as difficult in New York as it is in Finland. Or, as another full-time curator once remarked, half in jest, over a cup of coffee: “It’s the entire job.”

This red and white boat by a local artist was co-commissioned by Public Art Fund. The boat runs on its own schedule, and people can take a trip for free. Tauba Auerbach, Flow Separation

The question of whose taste should be followed in public art is a matter of lively debate in both countries. Although the discussion embraces less serious aspects, such as personal preference, it also touches upon bigger political questions, such as for whom public spaces are actually built (I will return to this question later). One notable detail is that whenever Percent for Art projects are curated in New York, the voices of local artists, critics and museum professionals are invariably heard during the process. This is a great way to integrate local perspectives with professional experience in the process, and I think similar processes should be applied more often in Finland as well.

Many funding models, both private and public

The Percent for Art programme is used in many places both in Finland and the United States. The basic idea is that one percent of the budget of a public building, such as a school or a library, is earmarked for art. As well, public squares and parks are eligible as sites, although infrastructure applications of the programme seemed somewhat more common in New York than in Finland, where the principle is still more closely linked with buildings.

Every day around midnight, these electronic billboards turn into artworks in the popular Midnight Moments series produced by the Times Square Arts programme.

Business Improvement District (BID) is a system that enables public art to be funded with support from local property owners. In my research, I learned that the system was represented for example by Times Square Alliance, the BID within the Times Square locality. In the system, property owners contribute a certain share of their property tax to the city which allocates funds to the BID responsible for the development and maintenance of the area. While the principal duties of the non-profit Times Square Alliance involve maintenance and safety in the Times Square area, two to three of the BID’s 120 employees work with public art in and around the square. They are part of the programme known as Times Square Arts, and the artworks produced in the varied programme are impressive. 

I do not know if IBM received more space for its offices for erecting this sculpture outside its building. Alexander Calder, Saurien.

A similar funding scheme can be used in Finland whenever a city develops a new residential area and draws up an art programme for it. Under the scheme, developers pay a share of the building cost into a fund. The amount of the contribution can be ten euros per square metre of floor area, for example. The money is then used to fund an art budget for the area, resulting in a variety of artworks, most of them permanent works curated specifically for the public spaces within the area. This is distinctly different from some other models, such as that used in Singapore wherein the developer receives permission to build more floor space if they install a work of art outside the building. (I examined Singaporean models in an earlier study, which you can read here.) In the United States, I was repeatedly told that additional floor area can be used as an instrument in negotiations to promote art, even if it isn’t an official programme.

In New York City, when a builder demands that their project also include art, the contractor often hires a consultant to draw up a list of suitable artists. Just as in Finland, art consulting is not a big business in the States either. Many consultants in New York have a background as gallerists. This is a field that, as yet, remains in its infancy in Finland, and the background and training of the consultants range from architecture and visual art to curating and art production. Some construction companies in New York take a proactive attitude towards art; a Finnish pioneer in this regard is YIT, the first Finnish construction company to have an in-house art coordinator.

The biggest difference between public art funding in the two countries is that there is practically no governmental funding available in the States. There, wealthy people have a very different attitude towards cultural charity. Whereas in Finland many foundations, such as the Alfred Kordelin Foundation or the Greta and William Lehtinen Foundation, were set up by bequest, well-to-do patrons in the US will buy a 2,000-dollar ticket to a dinner and thereby support culture during their lifetimes. This structural difference is then reflected in all sorts of practices.

Professional boundaries in education are reflected in professional practice

Architectural training does not cover collaboration with artists in either Finland or the Unites States, nor does professional training for artists address the demands encountered in projects in the public space and in multi-disciplinary collaboration.

Owing to a lack of information and ground rules, professionals involved in public art projects can have very negative views of art, seeing it exclusively as an obstacle in construction projects. Although the construction sector often pays lip service to art when their brand so demands, in reality they very seldom take an initiative to work with artists and only engage with them when required by clients. These issues are the same in Finland as in New York.

Other common issues involve communication and timing of collaboration in projects in which art is planned as a permanent part of a building. Art is often ignored in the conversation until it occurs to someone to take it up, instead of being addressed early on to ensure proper quality for the artwork. Such a haphazard mode is probably due in part to the organic nature of the construction business in which long, slow periods are interspersed with spurts of rapid progress. In spite of such challenges, however, many art projects are carried out to fruition, and the amount of collaboration is increasing. For example, of the 300 or so completed Percent for Art projects in New York, about one-third were completed in the 2000s, and over 70 commissioned projects are ongoing. A similar growth in the number of public art projects is evident in Helsinki.

Beneficial consequences of the idea that art belongs to everybody

People working with public art in Finnish cities and in New York feel that art not only elevates the amenity of the public space, it also makes it more meaningful and socially accessible. The idea of the public space as a venue that brings together different populations and of art as a contributing factor in enhancing community cohesion has become more urgent in the US now, when politics seem to be dividing the nation more than ever. The social and political situation becomes reflected in art and thereby also in art installed in public space.

This sign at the beginning of the High Line is emphatically inclusive. The fact that such a sign is necessary attests to the fact that some people think differently.

The established mission of the Helsinki Festival – to make art accessible for all – has resonance in New York City. The general ethos in the field of public art is that art should be accessible to those who cannot afford to pay 25 euros to visit a museum or who for some reason do not feel welcome at traditional art venues. In a reversal of this idea, projects to bring art into the urban space can also backfire and make locals feel that the place is no longer theirs.

Such questions as to what “more pressing” things might be done with the money used for art or why the artist is not chosen from among local talents (a borough in New York, for example, or a region in Finland) are familiar in both Finland and New York.

Whether a work of art brings an enhanced sense of meaning to my life, as a local, is a complex emotional issue. Some people are irritated by art if they feel they do not understand it, some simply don’t like it, and others are happy with any changes that take place in the public urban space. The point is, no work of art can please everybody. That being said, most people in Finland feel that art indeed brings added value to everyday life, and three out of four Finns want to see art in their everyday environment. The figure in growth centres is even greater, and this is where the situation in Finland and New York City differs significantly. People living in areas of Helsinki where rents are reasonable have no need to fear that an art festival might mean they cannot afford to live there in five years’ time. In New York, the situation is different: given the current price of housing, the question is pressing, as one borough after another is getting more expensive. One of the recurring themes in discussions I had in New York was that residents can be apprehensive of cultural projects in their neighbourhood, because it can potentially signal a rise in housing costs, even if the cultural producer’s intentions are good.

For me, New York City’s public art residency programme, in which an artist is hired to work for one year in one of the city’s departments, is a promising move. The first such residency artist was Mary Miss, who had had a major career in public art and who worked as an advisor at the New York Department of Design and Construction in 2016. Her role was to seek and develop processes or practices to enable artists to build future cities in collaboration with planning and construction professionals. With the assistance of the department staff, Miss organised several workshops and discussions on the theme, and as a result the programme has been broadened in the space of just a few years. As of this writing New York has just selected artists to work in the departments of health and mental hygiene, elderly care, communications and archiving, as well as the Mayor’s Office of Sustainability. Their role is to participate in the everyday operations of their department and to develop new, creative approaches and solutions to the department’s perceived challenges from their own professional, artistic perspectives. The project approaches both words – “public” and “art” – from a new angle, and the projects completed to date have been quite diverse, often inclusive and based on the locals’ real needs and perceptions. Solid professionalism and true interest in multi-disciplinary collaboration are criteria already applied in the selection of artists.

Ellen Harvey’s work at a plaza in Brooklyn brings together details from the surrounding buildings into a circular shape.

International challenges and aims

As a professional in both urban planning and art, I feel that the future of designing and constructing public spaces can only take place as multi-disciplinary creative collaboration that involves artists. The egotistic myths of hero architects or artists following a mystical inspiration cannot respond adequately to the needs and challenges of networked communities and urban spaces. In order to build public spaces that are genuinely meaningful and important, not only creative artists and designers are needed but new concepts as well.

Visiting a crowded store in New York, I overheard someone sighing in frustration, saying: “I usually just shop online.” I found myself thinking that if architects had at some point been concerned over losing the public space to commercial interests, commercial spaces might now be the ones facing cultural irrelevance. We should actively and openly try to preserve those features of the urban fabric that continue to give us reasons to “leave the house”. Otherwise, such features may well be lost.

Ultimately, the greatest differences between Finland and the US are in individual administrative processes and issues that can be traced directly back to the scale of the cities. People I met in America underlined the fact that New York City is not emblematic of the entire country, and neither, of course, is Helsinki of Finland. There are more inhabitants in New York City than in all of Finland. The difference in scale is of course directly reflected in the number of organisations that produce public art events, whether private or public. Public transport authorities in New York have their own organisation for public art, as do parks, cultural services and schools. They all have their own funding models and rules about what kinds of works can be produced, starting from the question of whether the works can be permanent or temporary. Because of the relative smallness of urban settlements, the sector is much more fragmented in Finland. Here the taxman still ensures that there is at least some kind of public funding available for art, and people can expect art to belong to them without fear that its arrival will entail replacement by a new crop of privileged, wealthy residents. On the other hand, private funding can be much harder to come by in Finland than in the United States.

Artists and art promoters in both countries are ultimately steered by the same concerns. Andrew Dinwiddie, Director of Times Square Arts, put my thoughts about this core motivation into words admirably:

 “I really see all art as being an important way that people communicate with each other. And one of the things that is distinctive about public spaces is they are where everybody comes together and there is an opportunity to have engagement and a kind of exchange of ideas, to build empathy with people who you don’t know. So, in a lot of ways, public spaces are incredibly important to democratic societies or any healthy society.”

I could not agree more.

Maija Kovari

Sculptor, architect – art coordinator – MSc (Arch), B.F.A. - www.kovari.fi - www.paaf.fi

Interviewees

Reina Shibata, Deputy Director, Percent for Art | New York City Department of Cultural Affairs

Jennifer Lantzas, Deputy Director of Public Art | New York City Department of Parks & Recreation

Daniel S. Palmer, Associate Curator | Public Art Fund

Andrew Dinwiddie, Acting Director, Times Square Arts | Times Square Alliance

Melanie Kress, Associate Curator, High Line Art | Friends of the High Line

Manon Slome, Chief Curator & Co Founder | No Longer Empty

Andrew Zientek, Artist, Licensed Landscape Architect, Educator | www.AndrewZientek.com