My desk in the conservation lab was situated amongst Renaissance sculptures, ornately painted vases, African artifacts, and yet I was there to devote myself to one specific artwork far too large for any lab: Robert Indiana’s 1970 sculpture, LOVE. Needless to say, it is a piece that prompts a nod of recognition. Whether identifiable from its centralized positioning on the grounds of the IMA, or through its plastic incarnation as a dangling, mass-produced key chain, most everyone seems familiar with the trademark tilt of LOVE’s “O,” as it has been so hopefully interpreted to symbolize a movement forward or—in the case of my research of LOVE’s conservation history—a rather complicated stepping back.

Lucie Alig considers LOVE

At first, Richard seemed surprised when I agreed to become the museum’s “LOVE intern” this summer. The task at hand was to extract succinct meaning from the stacks upon stacks of treatment proposals, condition reports, photo negatives, correspondence, digital files, as well as the many yellowing newspaper articles through which the “love” puns (“What We Need is LOVE,” “Three Tons of LOVE”) were, of course, endless. Honestly, I surprised myself a little, too, with my enthusiasm for the job (and the joy in the puns). Never before had I considered that the sculpture—which had always held a kind of iconic status throughout Indianapolis and, consequently, my Indianapolis childhood—would be in need of labored research. Regardless, I gladly took on the job, and it was not long before I knew all about the weathering tendencies of Cor-ten steel, the varying protectiveness of different landscape designs, the underlying concepts of Pop Art. Or so I thought.

One day, as I drove past LOVE on my way into work, I was compelled to pull over. Though this very drive-by had become ritual—a check-in on the beast as I made my way to tame it—today the piece had attracted an atypical crowd. Though often prone to attention from love-struck couples, or children in search of a forbidden jungle gym (please, please, please stay off!), today the sculpture’s admirers seemed much more settled into their viewing positions. As I approached the sculpture, it soon became clear that these were art students, and that in addition to observing LOVE, they were painting its very form.

Encircling the sculpture were nine completely personalized interpretations of it. Not only was each painter incorporating LOVE’s setting—the museum’s contemporary façade, ambling visitors, the well-tamed summer turf—to a different extent, but each composition had its own sense of scale, of coloration, each “O” was angled to a different degree. In fact, the only trait the paintings seemed to share was a disregard for the very issues to which I’d become so concerned: the streaky discoloration of the exterior rust, the particular height of its mount, the Jesus fish that had been scratched inside the “V.” Instead of reflecting the many qualities that conservation sought to fix, these re-interpretations completely overlooked the sculpture’s material flaws, treating it instead like an icon, as intangible and fleeting as love itself.

As I sat down to my desk later that day, it was harder than ever to feel in control of my project. The particular treatment of a particular bolt, for example, no longer felt like a pressing matter; instead, it was just a small, simple detail that was sure to go unnoticed. Furthermore, LOVE’s many offshoots around Indianapolis—those SALE signs (with their otherwise arbitrarily italicized “A”), the mini-LOVE paperweights that seemed to rest on the desks of all my grade-school teachers—were now constant reminders of the inevitability of art’s reinterpretation.

Set-backs aside, I persisted in organizing the “LOVE files.” and did my best to turn the conservation staff’s many obstacles and victories into an easily referenced narrative. LOVE may seem, at times, like a painfully simplistic work of art—the perfect subject for a beginners’ painting workshop—yet its very candor is reliant on a complicated history of tweaking and mends. Though I learned a lot about the crucial role of conservation, I try to remind myself of what else I learned: that the document I produced—clarity and thoroughness aside—is prone to change in the eyes of someone else, to someone with their own idea of love in mind.

Do you have any memories related to Robert Indiana’s Love sculptures? Or Anish Kapoor’s “Bean” in Chicago? What about Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s saffron-colored gates in New York’s central park? How about one of those giant spiders by Louise Bourgeois…or those cows on parade? Did you ever take a picture with one of these or another public art work? Well, I surely have (see me below). Something about the interactive nature of public art, and the feeling that it informally exists in its spot for me, rather than for a gallery space or for someone’s wall, really helps me enjoy public art. And I think regardless of if you like a piece or don’t, it inevitably makes you aware of your space, your participation in it, and someone’s efforts to enrich or change it. As a friend recently reminded me, these works at least make you ask, “Why is this here?”

Saying hello to a Juan Munoz sculpture

The definition of public art differs depending on whom you ask and why you are asking. For example, must the government supply the funding for a project to officially be labeled as public art? Is graffiti public art (see also: Banksy)? Is my neighbor’s daughter’s sidewalk drawing a piece of public art? Is the Love sculpture even public art if it sits on the Museum’s private property? Raquel Laneria sheds some light on this murkiness in her Forbes article “Why We Love – And Need – Public Art.” But whatever the official definition – to me, its an art work in a public space that I can personally access – and I agree with those “nonprofits, federal organizations and private investors who believe it is something indispensable to city life,” and with Darren Walker, who is quoted in the article as having said, “public art is a public good.”

My collage of art, found within a three-block stretch of Washington Street in Indianapolis.

I recently attended the walking tour of George Rickey: An Evolution (I highly recommend it – the last guided tour is August 16) in downtown Indianapolis. Our guide, Mindy Taylor-Ross, prefaced the tour with some Arts Council info and mentioned that Indy was at one time pursuing a ‘percent-for-art ordinance,’ which would provide a more or less stable (though small) funding source for public art in Indianapolis. Many other cities, including Seattle and Chicago, already have similar ordinances. A percent-for-art ordinance states that a percentage of publicly funded capital improvement projects (usually between .5 and 2%) is reserved for the commissioning of public artworks, which generally end up inside the building or on its outlaying property. In my interpretation, this ensures that as long as the city spends money on building projects, public art projects will exists in these spaces. While I’m sure there are a lot of politics and red tape involved in this process, theoretically, this is a good idea. Though with the current government leadership such legislature is likely not a priority, perhaps it could be pursued once more when times are less rough. The Project for Public Spaces website indicates a few other funding sources for public art – public/private sector collaborations, percent and non-percent for art programs, soliciting developer participation, and several other alternatives.

For fun, I polled some friends to find out their favorite and least favorite public art works. Many respondents voluntarily said that the reason they liked it was because they can still vividly see it when they think about it. Pretty cool.

“Loved it”
Eero Saarinen, Gateway Arch (the St. Louis Arch); J. Seward Johnson Jr, The Awakening; Juame Plensa, Crown Fountain; James Yamada, Our Starry Night; Igor Mitoraj, Tindaro Screpolato; the Pineapple Fountain in Charleston, SC; Jim Benedict, Forks, Cheese, Hangers; Magdelena Abakanowicz, Agora.

“Not so much”
Julian Opie, Ann Dancing; Pablo Picasso, Untitled, Chicago. (especially with the baseball caps); Claes Oldenburg and Coosje Van Bruggen, Big Sweep.

What public art works do you like or dislike?

The Awakening

I’ll try not to belabor the point with too many statistics, but in sheer square footage – 669,000 and change in the main building – the IMA ranks in the top ten out of about 230 other art museums. That’s a lot of square footage our security officers have to patrol each day, 24/7/365. And in that space is an art collection of roughly 54,000 pieces of art from all over the world and from all time periods.

Now, numerous other institutions have bigger buildings or more artwork, so let me add a few other amenities that the IMA has: a reference library, studio/education space, retail and dining areas, the 500-seat Deer-Zink events pavilion, and The Toby, a 600-seat theater to augment our warm-weather outdoor amphitheater.

IMA's campus and LOVE

If that’s not impressive, the IMA sits on a 50-acre landscaped campus with garden paths and outdoor artwork including the world-famous Robert Indiana LOVE sculpture . Also on this campus is the Garden Terrace events pavilion, a venue for smaller wedding receptions and meetings; the 1330 House, a temporary residence for visiting scholars and couriers; and Newfields, office space for our horticulture staff and home to the Horticulture Society’s reference library.

It is a rare thing that a museum has its own national historic landmark, as the IMA does in Oldfields-Lilly House and Gardens. I always enjoy taking new officers to Lilly for a tour from Bradley Brooks, curator and director of the house.

In terms of off-campus, let’s take a cruise past Westerley, the 5-acre IMA director’s residence. During the Gifts of the Tsars exhibition back in 2001, the IMA utilized the house for temporary housing of several Russian couriers. Security staffed the house, prompting me to refer to it as Best Westerley. Presently, we monitor the security systems and perform other tasks as requested by the director.

To complete the tour, I’ll mention the “100 Acres,” the Art & Nature Park to the west of the museum. Surprise, it’s a 100-acre plot of land with a big lake (I’ve heard 40 acres). Even though official construction has been delayed, the park is still open for dog walking and Frisbee throwing. Naked jogging is frowned upon, however.

Mindy and the jogger

There you have it, 150 acres of artsy goodness with two, count ‘em, national historic landmark properties, a mini-hotel for scholars, theater space for year-round films and concerts, two reference libraries, and an awesome director’s residence. Combine that with a variety of events and programs and our significant presence on the Web, and there is no doubt we have a world-class museum in our midst. Hugs & Kisses on Valentine’s Day.

The IMA pharmacy prescribes the following links to combat Monday online anemia.

Whitehouse.gov – We the people have a redesign. Macon Phillips, Director of New Media for the White House,  has taken change and applied it to the Fed’s main web outlet. This slick new site has quick links to video, a new blog, and contact information. For those that don’t remember the old site, check it.

Handmade Bicycle Show – This February, Indianapolis will host an event for bike enthusiasts and artists. Bikes with an art slant? This IMA employee and bike-ist will be there for sure. Oh, and a clown holding a U-Lock is clownin’.

Inhabit.com – Check out this green-design blog and get ready for us to host, “Shaping a New Century,” a design symposium that will bring world-class designers to Indianapolis for two days in March. With “green-ness” always in mind, this IMA employee is particularly interested in this transformation.

ILoveYouMoreThanBlank – By way of the lovely Emily, comes this early Valentine’s day treat.

The Wikipedians, Max, and I.

Pictured from right to left are: Max, Aaron (aka The Urbanophile), Jasmine, Christina, and myself.  Not pictured here are Jenny and Joelle.  While I know that Jenny had a scheduling conflict that day, we never did get a response back from Joelle (where’d you go, Joelle?).

Here’s a list of the articles they created:

Christina’s Sutphin Fountain

Jasmine’s Numbers

Aaron’s Mega-Gem

Joelle’s LOVE

Jenny’s SnowPlow

I’ve been watching these articles since they were created and noticed each one has been added to by other Wikipedians – even if just a little.  The article on Robert Indiana’s LOVE sculpture has really taken off.  It’s started to grow into an article about all of Indiana’s LOVE sculptures, not just the one at the IMA, which of course was the first sculptural version that he made.  Wouldn’t it be cool if it became the place for information about that sculpture!

Though I don’t think I’ll be offering lunch with Max anytime soon for making more articles, I do encourage you to make an article about an artwork in the IMA’s collection.  Maybe it’s just because I’m a believer in Wikipedia, but I think it’s important work.  It could be a student project either at the college or high school level – really, anyone can make an article once you get the hang of it.

Because I’m interested in exploring and developing the idea that Wikipedia articles can serve as a place to document public artworks by hosting images, referencing other published information, and allowing the public to have first-hand involvement in the history and preservation of public art, I started working a while ago with a two other conservators Crista and Daniel to make Wikipedia articles about a few public artworks.

Here’s a list of the articles that we created:
In Indianapolis:
Ann Dancing

Depew Memorial Fountain

In Wabash, IN
The Lincoln Monument of Wabash, Indiana

In Washington, D.C.
Always Becoming

While we found that hosting images can be a little tricky (clearing copyright, etc) there’s clearly a lot that can be achieved through this work.  Take for example the Ann Dancing sculpture here in Indy by Julian Opie.  While it was installed in January of this year, it had some display issues and was recently taken down for repairs.  How do I know this?  I found out when someone made an edit to the article.  In a matter of days an image was uploaded and links were made to the local newspaper coverage.

I had never been so interested to see an artwork not working.  It was an example of history being written almost as it happened!

Who knows what will come of all of this but I believe there’s great potential for Wikipedia to help raise awareness about the preservation of artworks through documentation and keeping an up-to-date history – something that print publications simply can’t do.

AQUALUNG BAKELITES BENADRYL BIRO BRAGGERS BRILLOS BUDDHA CATHOLICS CELOTEX CENOZOIC COLICKIER COLICKIEST CROCKPOT CYCLOPES DACRON DEVONIAN DOBRO DUMPSTER DUMPSTERS EMMY EMMYS ENUF ENURESISES EOCENE EXAHERTZES FORMICAS FORZANDI FRISBEE FRISBEES GRUMMETED GRUMMETING HAFTOROS HERTZES HOLOCENE INIONS JACUZZI JELLO JETWAYS JURASSIC KEWPIE KEWPIES KLEENEX KLEENEXES KURTOSISES LAPIDES LATINA LEFTMOSTS LEVIS LILOS LUCITES LUREXES LYCRA MAILGRAMS MASONITE MERCES MESOZOIC MIOCENE MIPS MYLAR POPSICLES POSTCAVAS PYREX REALTOR SECONALS SILURIAN SORTA SPANSULE SPANSULES SPUTTERY STELLITE STETSON SURPLUSSES TALEYSIM TALLAISIM TALLITHIM TALLITOTH TANNOY TEFLON THERMITS TOFUTTI TORTA TRES TREVALLYS TRIASSIC TROPICALS UPTALKED UPTALKING VASELINE VELCROS VENUS VENUSES WIMMIN WORKABLY ZUZIM ZLOTE ZLOTYCH

Those are just some of the new words added to the most recent edition of the Official Scrabble Players Dictionary.

The Indianapolis Museum of Art is hosting a scrabble tournament for the National Scrabble Association of Indiana on Saturday, September 20. Museum visitors are invited to observe the tournament or to play scrabble on extra boards and tables that will be made available.

One of the Scrabble Association’s pre-tournament activities includes a special tour called “Words in Art,” which explores the art of the IMA through the words that are in the art. A few of the works on the tour will be Never Odd or Even (pictured above), Angel of the Resurrection, Robert Indiana’s Love and Holzer’s led sign with red diodes.

You may be surprised to learn that competitive scrabble has a lingo of its own.
Below are some Scrabble terms from the National Scrabble Association:

Bingo: Any word played that uses all seven letters on a player’s rack, earning a bonus of 50 points.

Brailing: Feeling the surface of a tile while your hand is in the bag in order to draw a blank or other specific letters. This is strictly forbidden.

Coffee-housing: To make small talk, crack knuckles or do any of a number of things meant to distract or mislead your opponent. This is unethical and strictly forbidden in clubs and tournaments. It is generally considered impolite to talk during a tournament game unless it is pertinent to the score or the play.

Fishing (aka Dumping): To play only one or two tiles, usually for few points, keeping five or six really good tiles, with the hope of playing a high-scoring word next turn.

Nongo: A bingo on your rack that won’t play on the board.

Phoney: Any unacceptable word. An unacceptable word is one that is not found in the Official Word List (OWL). Or, if the word has more than nine letters and is not found in the Merriam Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, 11th Edition. If a phoney is not challenged when it’s played, however, it will stay on the board for the remainder of the game.

Power Tiles: There are 10 power tiles. They are the two blanks, the four S’s and the J, Q, X and Z.

Scrabble talk aside, what does it mean to combine words with art? What messages do letters and words convey that images can not? What moves an artist to reach for a pen, so to speak, rather than a paintbrush?