I got an email recently from a frustrated False Creek resident who recently witnessed city workers installing this piece of public art at Charleson Park in Fairview Slopes/False Creek. The installation, titled “The Stop” by artist Michael Zheng, consists of ten stop signs with pink-painted backs planted in concrete throughout the popular green space.
The timing couldn’t be more ironic. As Vancouver prepares to showcase itself to the world during the 2010 Winter Olympics—just six months away—this public art controversy highlights deeper issues about community consultation, artistic merit, and municipal priorities that have plagued Vancouver’s public art program for years.
I haven’t heard anything from anyone else besides what Michael Ferreira has to say, but his concerns echo broader frustrations about how Vancouver handles public art decisions. The installation was apparently part of the 2009 Vancouver Biennale, yet many residents learned about it only when city workers began installing the pieces without advance notice or community input.
Here are Michael’s key objections, which raise important questions about Vancouver’s public art process:
The artist selection raises eyebrows about municipal priorities. The city apparently commissioned someone from San Francisco to create this installation—and I say “apparently” because this information came from a neighbor who spoke with City staff during installation. Given that we have Emily Carr School of Art and Design just a ten-minute walk away, and we’re months away from hosting “Canada’s Games” as John Furlong repeatedly calls them, couldn’t the city have found a Canadian or local artist to produce something for this highly visible park?
The location choice reveals a troubling disconnect between city planners and actual park users. It’s obvious that the City employees charged with choosing the location have never spent meaningful time in Charleson Park—never took time to observe how the space is actually used throughout different times and seasons. Had they done so, they would have noticed the multitude of activities constantly happening: family picnics, bocce games, frisbee throwing, impromptu baseball games, boot camps, tai chi sessions, and in winter, kids sledding down the hill toward exactly where these signs are now planted.
Why weren’t the signs placed closer to the seawall where they might have had more relevance, visibility, and interaction with the steady stream of walkers and cyclists? The current placement disrupts established recreational patterns and turns a functioning community space into an art gallery.
While the artist may have spent months formulating deep thoughts behind this installation, many residents suspect he might be sitting in a San Francisco bar laughing about the city up north that he convinced to pay for ten stop signs stuck in concrete and call it art.
The piece raises fundamental questions about what constitutes meaningful public art. Should public art animate and enhance public space, or can it justify displacing community activities? Michael’s five-year-old son can no longer use his informal baseball diamond because of art installations that offer no interactive value or aesthetic enhancement to the park experience.
Most troubling is the complete absence of community consultation. No “heads up” that public art was even being considered for this beloved neighborhood space. Had the “very nice folks” at City Hall involved residents in the selection and placement process, they might have avoided alienating an entire neighborhood and actually achieved community buy-in for public art that enhances rather than disrupts park life.
