ART FEATURE: The Art of Controversy: Inside MAG’s sculpture-park protest

In April 2010, the MemorialArtGallery announced a major
commission with Brooklyn-based sculptor Tom Otterness to act as the cornerstone
of its planned CentennialSculpturePark. Otterness is currently
working on the sculpture, and MAG is preparing the site; the gallery
anticipates that it will be installed in the fall of 2012.

But a Democrat and Chronicle article last month brought into local daylight
a controversial issue from the artist’s past. In 1977, at age 25, Otterness
adopted a dog from an animal shelter, tied the dog to a fence, and shot it to
death while filming it as a work of art titled “Shot Dog Film.”
Otterness has apologized for the incident, calling his actions
“indefensible,” but for many this has not been enough.

At the time of the announcement over a year ago, the gallery received a few
concerned phone calls and letters regarding the film. But since the recent
D&C article, critics have staged a protest near the MAG grounds and
launched an onslaught of e-mails and phone calls to the museum, some of them
anonymous and vitriolic, some “very measured, sensitive, compassionate
messages of outrage,” says MAG Director Grant Holcomb. And the critics
have circulated a petition calling for the museum to end its association with
Otterness.

MAG has also found support for its decision to fulfill its contract, from
members of the arts and wider communities of Rochester.
And MAG says it is holding firm – although a statement provided to City on
Tuesday asks for more “contrition” from Otterness. That raises the
question of whether the museum’s leadership might even ask Otterness to make a
donation to an animal shelter or similar organization.

“The Gallery’s selection process, that included staff and board members
in addition to various community leaders in Rochester
and museum professionals across the country, resulted in the selection of one
of the nation’s major sculptors of public art, Tom Otterness,” the
statement reads. “We plan to move forward with our Otterness commission.
However we strongly feel that Tom needs to address the current community
reaction in a way that renews his contrition for what he did long ago and that
this resonate in a meaningful way with our board and gallery community.”

“While we are not going to cancel or step away from the sculpture park
project,” says the statement, “we are not totally insensitive to the
community. We understand that the selection of Tom Otterness has caused concern
in some circles. We feel that Tom created this and he needs to find a way to
fix it with the public.”

Many protesters doubt the sincerity of Otterness’s regret and question MAG’s
handling of the entire process, and some have misconceptions regarding the
sculpture, its funding, and the park in general. The controversy brings up
issues of censorship, the complicated nature of art, and the responsibility of
those who put it on exhibition.

Otterness’s sculpture for MAG, which will be a gateway onto
the grounds from the corner of Goodman Street
and University Avenue,
consists of two 13-foot limestone figures that serve as a narrative on
sculpture and the act of creation. A female sculptor stands with tools in her
hands, in the act of carving a male figure from a block. Farther away from the
street and strewn about are works-in-progress – incomplete or imperfect
versions of the male sculpture.

Otterness’s recent work seems innocuous, but it contains layers of symbolic
meanings alluding to issues of gender, money, class, and race. And his MAG
sculpture playfully brings to mind differences between the sexes and the
difficulty people face when trying to create that “perfect other.”
The sculpture references the Pygmalion myth, which tells of a sculptor
creating, falling in love with, and bringing to life a female figure.

Otterness declined an interview request last week, citing his travel
schedule, but he agreed to answer questions by e-mail.

“When I came to Rochester to do research for this commission,” he
said, “I found out about Susan B. Anthony’s life here and her successful
campaign to open the all-male university to female students in 1900,”
regarding the University of Rochester. “The women’s dorm was located in
the Cutler Union building, which is close to the installation site. So that
influenced my decision to reverse the Pygmalion myth.”

“I thought a sculptor’s studio as an artwork would act as a bridge
between the active artist studios and the community across Goodman
Street and the museum itself,” Otterness
said. “I liked the idea of an artist trying to bring stone to life, to
make an ideal mate. In this case, she is running into problems. All the guys
have something wrong: hands are backwards, heads are off, or their feet are
stuck together. Our heroine, though, is optimistic and very persistent.”

When choosing a project for the Centennial Sculpture Park, MAG was
“looking for narrative, a layered narrative,” says Marjorie Searl,
chief curator at MAG. Otterness created a work “very deliberately to refer
to not only Susan B. Anthony but also to the fact that this museum was founded
by a woman.” On another level, the sculpture nods to the 1913 bas-relief
sculptures on the side of the building, she says, in which is depicted
“the more traditional sculptor, a male sculptor, with his tools.”
Otterness’s installation, she says, “takes that and connects to it, but flips
it.”

One of the loudest criticisms in April 2010, before news of Otterness’s
video eclipsed all other complaints, was that such a large commission was going
to a non-local artist. Tom Otterness is in fact one of four artists to be
featured in the park, two of whom are local sculptors, the other two from New
YorkState. New
York sculptor Jackie Ferrara’s commission will be a
pathway leading to a new entrance plaza. Rochester-based sculptor Wendell
Castle will create what he is referring to as an “outdoor living
room” made of cast iron and bronze. And the gallery is in talks with
Albert Paley about a monumental piece. The park will also include gardens and
pathways designed by a local landscape architect.

Otterness’s work was chosen for the sculpture garden based on criteria
established by a MAG selection committee that included artists, directors of
cultural institutions, architects, faculty, and community members. MAG’s
criteria included the stature of the artist and reputation in the field,
success with site-specific sculpture in particular, and ability to design for
durability due to the climate in Rochester.
Despite the misconception of some critics, the park and its sculptures are
financed not by public funds but by private money drawn from the Maurice R. and
Maxine B. Forman Fund.

MAG was also “interested in narrative and accessibility,” a work
that would be attractive to a broad audience, says MAG Director Grant Holcomb.
“The fence comes down, the plaza opens up. There is a lighthearted, if you
will, whimsical, narrative going on through Tom’s initiative.” The
sculpture park will also include an amphitheater and seating areas within the
space, he says, creating a modern version of a 19th century common “where
people gather, sit, eat, have performances, weddings, and events. A community
space. Tom met those criteria.”

The search began in 2006, and a list of 50 artists was eventually reduced to
four finalists. In planning the park, “we were interested in an
opportunity to provide continuity with the other projects that had gone on in
the neighborhood,” says Searl, “so that you walk down to our grounds
and it is not an abrupt switch” from ArtWalk to a campus full of less
playful art.

Otterness’s work functions at multiple levels, Searl says. What appears to
be a sculpture about two figures, one carving another from a block, “is
really about the whole concept of creativity in general, and that was such a
match for this neighborhood and this institution.”

MAG was made aware of Otterness’s infamous video during the
selection process, while the committee was narrowing its choices in 2007. A
planned Otterness installation at WichitaStateUniversity
was swept up in controversy when a student government candidate who objected to
using student funds for the Otterness work brought the film to public
attention. MAG spoke with WSU officials, Searl says, and found that they were
“totally positive about working with Tom.” The commission went
forward at Wichita, and MAG
continued to look at various artists, but kept coming back to Otterness. He was
the “artist who seemed best able to provide what it was we were hoping to
accomplish,” says Searl.

Among the apologies Otterness has made for the controversial video was one
reported in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle in April 2008: “Thirty years ago when
I was 25 years old, I made a film in which I shot a dog. It was an indefensible
act that I am deeply sorry for. Many of us have experienced profound emotional
turmoil and despair. Few have made the mistake I made. I hope people can find
it in their hearts to forgive me.”

Otterness says that the video came out of a dark and angry period of his
life. His work now focuses on animals in a positive way. Many of his
sculptures, which can be found in many states as well as internationally,
prominently feature a variety of animal life. With the work for Rochester
inspired by the Pygmalion and Pinocchio myths, viewers could connect them with
themes about animating materials, bringing them to life, or searching for a
connection.

Other people who have worked with Otterness describe the experience as very
positive, says Holcomb, and this “runs contrary to the words used to
describe Tom, which are vile – just not the man or the artist we know.” No
one finds the killing of the dog to have been anything but “despicable,
callous – as Tom does,” says Holcomb. But “Tom as a person is not how
he’s described by some of the missives I’ve received.”

Otterness has visited Rochester
several times since 2009 to look at MAG’s grounds, and to formulate and present
his proposal. “He loved ArtWalk, and was very enthusiastic about it,”
says Searl. “He remains ready to really engage with this community.”
At no time during the selection process did MAG see any reason to stop the
project because of Otterness’s character, says Searl. “If anything, I felt
that his character was a very solid one. It was very hard to reconcile the
story we heard with the gentlemen who was in the flesh. One of the challenges
for us is that we have had the opportunity to work with this man, to know
him,” she says, “but when you read something described in lurid ways,
you have nothing to offset that with. But some people don’t want something to
offset it. To them it’s very black and white. I think life, and particularly art,
is not necessarily black and white.”

Many of the protesters who have left posts on articles
about the Rochester commission, on
MAG’s Facebook page, and on specific Facebook protest pages argue that MAG
should not help support the career of someone who killed an animal in the name
of art. But the issue brings about a strange form of potential censorship:
although the film itself is not being censored (MAG says that all copies were
destroyed, and the film is not even available), some protesters want to impede
the career of the artist who created it.

Those protesting the Otterness sculpture have been following the history of
his career and controversy on the web and in past news articles. Many feel that
his apology was too little, too late, and the term “sociopath” keeps
arising, even among those who aren’t sure that MAG should cancel the
commission.

One of the protesters is Dr. Michelle Brownstein, who has been a
veterinarian for 25 years and has run HenriettaAnimalHospital
for 20 years, and says she has been interested in animal-rights issues since
she learned about the puppy-mill industry in sixth grade. Brownstein kicked off
the local petition to have MAG rescind Otterness’s commission, and says that
the list is just shy of 2000 names from people around the world. She also
initiated the Facebook group “Rochesterians Against Tom Otterness,”
and sends out e-mail blasts and Tweets to gain support for her petition.

It’s not up to the public to forgive Otterness, Brownstein says:
“Atonement is up to him and his god, or whoever he feels is his
creator.” And she says she doesn’t trust that he has changed. MAG should
“cut its losses,” she says, “and not be affiliated with
him.”

Another Rochesterian opposed to the Otterness commission, Megan Haley, says
she dropped her gallery membership in protest of the project. MAG has dismissed
the protesters as a fringe group of activists, she says, and she says that that
the gallery is underestimating the consequences of its actions. She says she is
concerned about long-term negative impacts, such as the possible trauma to
children who learn of the artist’s past, or potential vandalism of the work
after it is completed. But she says she doesn’t think protesters should try to
force Otterness to donate money, because that “wouldn’t be a genuine”
action on his part.

Some of the protesters seem uninterested in the subject of forgiveness where
Otterness is concerned. But they also don’t consider their actions to be
censorship of art or an artist, or an attempt to deny him the right to make his
living through art.

Rochester graphic designer and animal advocate Katherine Denison says she is
walking a middle road on the issue, and she identifies some of the complexities
involved, from the context of the cultural climate of the 1970’s and some of
the violent art movements of the time, to the concept of a how a violent
transgressor might make amends on par with his actions. “I have
complicated feelings about it,” she says. She is not necessarily opposed
to the Otterness installation, she says, but she does think MAG should consider
revoking it.

Since the onset of the controversy, Denison
has been researching Otterness, and she says she has serious concerns regarding
his level of regret and believes the public has a right to question him.
“It’s such a bizarre and angry thing to have done that it seems to me that
if you were truthful about wishing to create a kind of atonement for it, that
people could understand publicly, that he would share something about how he’s
addressed that. He might talk about therapy that he’s done. Or give some sense
of what kind of spiritual or emotional changes he went through.”

Denison is also disturbed by MAG’s decision to sign contracts with Otterness
before many members of the public knew about his past. She says she wonders why
the controversy wasn’t disclosed at the beginning of the process, and she
doesn’t think MAG should be surprised that groups would rise up in the way they
have surrounding this issue: “This is the home of intense politics,”
she says.

“There is a part of me that is on the side of MAG in this issue,
thinking that they shouldn’t pull [the project] because of a controversy,”
Denison says. Animal shelters kill thousands of dogs every year, she says, and
people around the world consume them as food, but ultimately she argues that
with his video, Otterness crossed a serious line. He has touched the public,
she says, “in a very primitive way.”

In his e-mail reponse, Otterness wasn’t reluctant to
discuss the video. “I had some very convoluted and confused ideas about
both the making and the showing of that film,” he said. “It came out
of an extremely dark and painful time in my life. I am deeply sorry for taking
the life of that innocent dog, as well as the harm I have caused people in even
hearing it described. I have lived with people’s judgment of me both privately
and publicly for 34 years. It may be another 20 years before I understand the
effect this has had on my work.”

To give shape and shade to the complexities of the controversy, a
significant consideration is the time period in which Otterness created his
film. The work emerged from a period of war and extreme social unrest, of
bombings and powerlessness, and much of the art from the late 1970’s resembled
a desperate scream. Marina Abramovic was mutilating herself in her performance
art, and Robert Mapplethorpe was creating his controversial photographic
explorations.

“I can understand people’s outrage when first hearing about it,”
Otterness said in his e-mail. “I don’t understand what PETA and others stand
to gain by trying to stop me from producing something positive in the
world.”

As for making a large donation to an animal service or organization:
“The idea that my making a donation to a shelter would somehow legitimize
or validate my apology seems senseless to me,” he said. “I’ve never
felt that it was possible to buy my way out of responsibility for what I did,
and I would hate for anyone to ever think that’s what I was trying to do. I’ve
spent the last 34 years thinking, privately, about how to make a positive
contribution to the world, and certainly I will continue to do so.”

One vocalized reasoning behind the call for a donation is that Otterness
appears to gain so much monetarily from a commission of this scope. “I
think some people have the impression that if the commission’s $1 million, he’s
walking away with $1 million,” says MAG’s Grant Holcomb. “I don’t
know the percentage, but I do know the cost of doing business with the
materials, and the transportation, and the assistants, and the studio – most of
the monies go to cover those costs of the monument itself, not Tom’s net. The
cost of working on that scale is enormous.”

Payments have already been made to the artist and
contractors for this project, and there are legal contracts between the artist
and the museum. “To just walk away from it, as some people are suggesting,
would have substantial negative impact for MAG, and the neighborhood,”
says Holcomb.

“I was very honored and excited by the commission for MAG, and I have
offered them an enormous project for the budget they had,” Otterness said.
“The methods of stone carving and bronze casting are very traditional and
labor intensive, and therefore extremely expensive. In competing for public
projects with fixed budgets, any experienced artist will tell you that the
profit margins are quite small and any miscalculation can eliminate the profit
one had first hoped for.”

The museum has seen varied repercussions thus far for standing by its
decision to go forward with the Otterness commission. By early this week, MAG
had lost fewer than 10 memberships based on outrage about Otterness, while four
people have said they wanted to join or increase their membership in solidarity
of the decision, says Holcomb.

While the protesters have been vocal, individuals in Rochester have also
expressed strong support for MAG’s decision. One signer of the petition to keep
the sculpture, initiated by J.R. Teeter of Bread & Water Theatre, noted
that she “made a donation to the Memorial Art Gallery because Tom Otterness
was going to have work there.”

A letter from a supporter acknowledges that while there is no denying that
the controversial work “was a terrible decision… we do not believe one
reprehensible action should define a life or a career. In reviewing both his website
as well as articles and reviews about his long career, it has clearly not
defined him. We fully support your decision to commission his work and look
forward to seeing him amongst the others selections for the sculpture
park.”

Members of the local arts community have also expressed support for MAG.
Allen Topolski, artist and chair of the art and art history department at the
University of Rochester, says that like everyone else, he finds the dog-killing
abhorrent. “Violence can’t hide behind art, and it shouldn’t be sheltered
by anything,” he said in an e-mail. But it’s important to allow ourselves
to see people fully, he said, not define them by one solitary act.

“Like with any matter at all (and like with the sentencing approaches
taken in our court system that often factor in things like remorse) the larger
picture needs to be fully considered,” he said. “In this case, what
is fully considered is a 30-year period during which Otterness developed a
popular, sensitive, accessible, and socially responsible body of artwork. We
make mistakes – his was a big one – but it was also over 30 years ago. That is
a long time. He has not skirted accountability, and it is unlikely that he will
now.”

The debate also raises considerations of the implications of a cultural
institution buckling under pressure from a segment of the public. Overturning
this commission “would imply a connection between one heretofore unrelated
individual’s 30-year-old mistake and an institution’s current progressive move
forward toward fulfilling its mission,” Topolski said.

“For every artwork that we purchase that is above a certain dollar
value, we are obliged by our bylaws to present a justification – the strengths,
the weaknesses,” says MAG’s Searl. Otterness’s video “was something
that we were aware of,” says Searl, “something that we needed to take
into consideration. But generally speaking, there is no category for vetting
the character of the artist.”

Otterness is not the only artist to have committed a morally reprehensible
act. Artists and other creative people who have transgressed yet retained a
level of respect and admiration include the painter Caravaggio, who killed a
man after losing money to him in a game of tennis. L. Frank Baum, the author of
the beloved “Wizard of Oz,” called for the extermination of the
remaining Lakota Sioux in newspaper editorials. And Pablo Picasso reportedly
held lit cigarettes to his mistress’s face.

In fact, the extent of assaults and abuses by artists and musicians toward
their female companions is in itself a sobering topic. And while none of that
excuses Otterness’s act, it provides an idea of how quickly museums, book
stores, and playlists might empty if people judged artists solely on their
personal ethics.

“If a Caravaggio was offered to us, and we wouldn’t take it because he
murdered somebody, they should fire me,” says MAG’s Grant Holcomb.

In considering the transgressions of artists, and what constitutes a moral
deal-breaker in doing business, things get very tricky very quickly. “This
raises a very good point,” says Holcomb. “There are some who believe
that an abortion is the taking of a life.” Then should the gallery start
sending questionnaires to women artists, asking about their reproductive
histories? Would it be fair for a cultural institution to refuse to work with a
woman if she had had an abortion? What are the implications of an institution
pulling a work of art that is controversial, instead of becoming a forum for
discussion?

When an art museum does not stand by art based on
controversy, “it loses stature as an art museum,” says Holcomb.
“Basically you’re not standing up to your mission. You’re not standing up
to your ideals. No one condones the act. We’re an art museum, not a star chamber.
And we acted as an art museum, and we will act as an art museum. We will also
listen at least with compassion and sensitivity to other points of view, when
they are measured and well-stated. But to do otherwise I think diminishes the
gallery.”

Regarding the issue of an institution standing by an artist or work it has
chosen to represent, “Museums have an obligation, like the rest of us, to
do their best work, and do their work best. And if it’s an art museum, their
work is showing good art,” says Dr. Alison Nordstrom, curator of
photographs at George Eastman House. “And if people object to showing a
work of art on the basis of somebody’s personal life or youthful indiscretions,
then they’re sort of missing the point,” she says. “The purpose of
museums is to get people talking.”

MAG plans to move ahead with the sculpture park as planned, while attempting
to come to a good resolution with the community. “To me the issue is art,
and we can deal with the art, its past, its present, and its future,” says
Holcomb. “Now we’re in the realm of grand themes of art. One grand theme
of art is compassion, and another grand theme of art is forgiveness.”

“There is a lot for all of us to learn in this,” says Holcomb, who
says he hopes MAG can provide a forum that seeks, “along with these other
community entities – from animal rights to interfaith to restorative justice –
to deal with issues that can inflame but at the same time, we hope, heal, as we
move through them.”

“If it comes out of this conversation that more people focus on supporting
organizations of animal welfare,” that is a positive, says Searl. “I
would like Rochester to be a model for moving forward, for this artist, but
also for other artists, for other situations, where there could be dialogue,
there could be growth, there could be a willingness to stay close to the
discomfort, to the pain of it,” without shutting anybody off. “And
that’s a very big thing to ask,” she says, “but if any institution
can do it, I think we should be able to do it.”

This article appears in Oct 19-19, 2011.