Close to
a year ago I received a text from a friend. He knew of a hospital working on a
renovation project, and they were interested in having some art. They
asked him to provide some photography work for the hospital, and he heard they
wanted an outdoor sculpture. He suggested that we all get together and
have a meeting to discuss.
I try not
to get excited about these types of meetings. It’s common for potential
clients to not understand the nature of public sculpture and, specifically, to
not understand the costs involved. I went to the meeting with no
expectations and gave them a ballpark price. I wanted to see if this was
something any of us wanted to pursue seriously. They were interested and
wanted me to come up with some designs.
Of all
the parts of a privately funded public sculpture project, this may be the most
difficult to navigate. Even if the client is familiar with the style of
your work, this does not mean they want a sculpture like your typical work.
Most often a project like this will have a theme or an expectation and
they’ll ask you to work in that direction. With this particular client, I
was given a lot of freedom and while they did provide a clear starting point
and theme, they understood that it was important to find a design that would
make the client and the artist happy. In this case, there was also an
architect firm directly involved in the process, and it was important to make
them happy as well.
The
starting point was a rocking horse. The rocking horse is an image the
hospital has used for many years for a special donation fund to support their
newborn and infant care services. The original image was very literal and
looked exactly as you would expect.
Using
that as a jumping off point, I spent several weeks working to abstract the
image to a point that would satisfy all the entities involved.
Communicating by email with everyone and meeting in person a few more
times, I was able to arrive at a design that everyone agreed on. I brought
the designs on paper to our next meeting and also created a small wooden model
using some scrap wood and some bright yellow spray paint. The model made
an impact and helped everyone understand exactly what the sculpture would look
like.
This was
still early in the renovation process. The public sculpture location was
to be outside the building in a small plaza area. Logistically this meant
that the installation of the sculpture would need to happen at the very end of
the project. There would be some waiting around to finalize exact sizes
and exactly how things would be connected. We were also told there would
be some waiting on fundraising to get the final approval to begin the sculpture
project.
After
this, months went by. I had blocked off time to create the sculpture
during my winter break in the month of December. This would allow the
sculpture to be created and then be sent off to be powder coated which can take
several weeks. After the sculpture was totally finished, I would then
just need a day to install it. The installation was penciled in for
March. That was the plan.
Plans
change with construction projects. It’s common for completion dates to be
pushed back. During this project, I was waiting on the hospital to give
the final go-ahead to start the public sculpture project. The architect
firm thought this was the plan as well. The hospital thought everything
was moving forward. Winter break came and went and I had no new
information. I should have contacted more people and asked more questions,
but my assumption was that like many projects of this nature, the funds didn’t
come through and the sculpture part of the renovation may have fizzled out.
In
February I remembered the sculpture and sent an email to the architect.
That’s when everything kicked into fast forward. Essentially,
everyone but me thought the sculpture was all taken care of and that we were
all still on the same installation plan. That installation plan was for
March if you remember. Lucky for me the architect firm was on the ball.
Once they realized no one had given me the final approval to create the
sculpture, they stepped in and took charge. Instead of the hospital
hiring me to create the sculpture, the architect firm took me on as a client in
order to speed up the process. Everyone I dealt with there was really
great. They kept me informed and worked very hard to get all the
signatures, amounts, and approvals needed to get me started making the
sculpture in less than two weeks.
When the
materials arrived, I spent some focused time in the studio, and the form was
built in a few days. It was cleaned, perfected and prepared for powder
coating in a whirlwind of activity. I had some help loading the sculpture
into my trailer for delivery to the powder coating company, and it was around
this time that the horse needed a name. He was christened “Charlie”.
I drove Charlie up the interstate, providing some visual entertainment
for other motorists. Charlie was dropped off in the capable hands of my powder
coating friends. I said goodbye to him for a few weeks.
Soon
Charlie was ready to come home. I marveled at his beautiful, bright yellow
coating. This particular yellow was going to set the tone for my spring.
It was inspiring. It was happy. It was perfect.
Since
starting the sculpture, everything moved so quickly and smoothly that Charlie
was a couple of weeks ahead of schedule for installation. The architect
firm coordinated the schedule with the construction company and gave us all a
firm date for installation. This date would be just one week before the
grand opening ceremonies, but I only needed a few hours to install, so I didn’t
feel a lot of pressure. The pressure seemed to be on the construction
company to get the pedestal and the surrounding plaza area ready in time.
When
installation day arrived, we rolled in and gathered some kind workers to help
lift Charlie into place. The pedestal was three feet tall and as a group
gathered to help lift, I got pushed out and was forced to watch nervously.
My architect friend came to help get the positioning correct, and then it
was just a matter of securing Charlie to the pedestal before taking some photos
and gathering up the tools.
But then
things went a little weird. There were some people involved who apparently
didn’t get to see the sketches, drawings, and the model. They were under
the impression they were getting one of those classy bronze sculptures, and you
can imagine their surprise when they looked out their windows and saw a bright
yellow Charlie shining across the way. With only one week until the big
grand opening, things started moving very fast. It started with text
messages, then emails, and then more lengthy emails. I went out of town
to teach the sand sculpture class the next day and continued to deal with the
possibility that Charlie would have his color changed by the time I returned a
week later.
This is
the sort of occasion when the reality of ownership comes to the surface.
I made Charlie according to plans that were approved, and I met those
expectations completely. A hospital employee stuck in the middle of the
confusion told me I had “exceeded their expectations”. I’m pretty sure he
was being sincere. But I had sold the sculpture to a client, and the
client wanted the color changed. All I could do was accept it and move
on. It took a few days, but I did get over it. Perhaps it helped
that I was at the beach. Everyone apologized, everyone comforted me about
it, and everyone was genuinely nice.
A week
later I returned from the class four hours away. I wheeled into the
hospital parking lot with buckets, shovels, and a surfboard tied to the roof of
my truck. I grabbed a Walmart bag with some decent clothes inside and
rushed into the closest bathroom I could find to change. Georgie and the
kids were waiting with a crowd of people when I came out. They told me I just
missed the announcement of my name. Later I posed for some photos with
some hospital people and with Charlie in his new, neutral coat.
I explained the whole situation to
several people during the weeks following the color
change. Many of my friends expressed outrage. "This is a work
of art," they said. "Why would anyone pick YOU to make something
unless they wanted a bright color?" they asked. "Tell them
no," they said. Luckily I had some time to reflect on the
project before getting this advice from my faithful and well-meaning
friends. That time of reflection assured me that outrage was not the best
emotion to trust, blame was not the best way to approach the situation, and
that telling a customer no was simply not good for business. And after
you sift away all the “This is my art” and “I told you this before we started”
stuff, that’s what this is…business.
I make mistakes, I misunderstand
things, and maybe I even assume things from time to time. As regular
humans we all do. We’d all like some mercy and grace extended to us when we
screw up. I need to be ready to extend that same mercy and grace to
others.
So am I mad? Heck no. I
made a cool thing from my head and someone wanted to buy that cool thing.
They may have changed the color, but they also put that cool thing on public
display in a place where it will make people smile. How could I be mad
about that? I’m so grateful to have created “Charlie” exactly the way it
happened.
Long live Charlie!
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