When you put up artwork in a public space, you invite criticism.
Akron pedestrians did a double take when they noticed the giant stick figures at the downtown intersection of Main and Market streets.
What’s that?
In 1978, New York artist William King (1925-2015) installed a 22-foot-tall aluminum sculpture of two human figures, one standing and one kneeling, on the plaza of the Federal Building, a $15 million office complex and U.S. courthouse that had opened three years earlier.
King had received a $22,000 commission (about $111,000 today) for the project through the U.S. General Services Administration. The Art in Architecture Program allowed spending up to 0.5% of the cost of construction on a federal building for artwork.
A woman takes a closer look at the William King sculpture “Caritas,” which is Latin for “Caring,” outside the Federal Building at Main and Market streets in downtown Akron in 1978.
The sculptor had been selected from a list of nominees offered by a panel that consisted of Donald Harvey, assistant professor of art at the University of Akron; John Coplans, director of the Akron Art Institute; Gordon Canute, architect with Tuchman, Canute, Ryan & Wyatt; and Edward Levine, chairman of the art department at Wright State University.
“King’s sculptures seem at ease in the world,” Harvey explained. “They poke fun at the world of humans, but openly admit their own ridiculousness and vulnerability. They are most often tall, gangly figures, many of them suspiciously resembling the physiognomy of their maker.
“They are at their best when they portray humans in that most awkward of moments, appearing slightly ridiculous while trying to be serious and profound.”
New York artist William King oversees the installation of his work “Caritas” on July 19, 1978, outside the Federal Building in downtown Akron.
King, 53, traveled to Akron to oversee the installation of his work July 19, 1978. After designing the figures, he had two Syracuse sculptors fabricate the forms from aluminum.
They shipped the components in two 800-pound packing crates. A six-man crew bolted the pieces into place on an 85-degree day.
The artist titled his sculpture “Caritas,” which is Latin for “Caring.”
“I wanted to get it to look like somebody’s in trouble,” he later told Beacon Journal art reviewer Dorothy Shinn. “I like that image of helping somebody; most everybody needs help, and when they get it, it feels good.”
He insisted, however, that this work — or any real work of art — needed no explanation. If people were interested, they would look at it.
“If it’s going to say anything, it will say it right away, in a split second, and nobody bending your ear will make any difference,” he said.
The public work stirred controversy in Akron. Many observers questioned the merits of the artwork or the use of taxpayer dollars to pay for it.
The aluminum sculpture “Caritas” is bolted into place July 19, 1978, outside the Federal Building at Main and Market streets in downtown Akron.
Everyone’s a critic
A sampling of public comments:
∎ Orval A. Frantz: “$22,000 is a lot of tax money. Can anyone tell me just what benefit it is to the city or state?”
∎ Daniel Watson: “Why don’t they give the money to charity instead of melted metal?”
∎ John Cullinane: “It’s gross. Cheap looking. … The cutting of this must have taken only a day or two. It looks like somebody had an idea, made a sketch of it, and ran it through a cutter.”
∎ Rich Andrasko: “If it symbolized friendship, it’s a good thing, really, for the federal government to promote. We need a little more of that sort of thing.”
∎ Gillian Small: “It’s symbolic, supportive. He’s helping the other one up or keeping him stable. Even though it’s metal, it’s warm.”
∎ Homer Pettengill: “My eyes see it in a different context. The standing, dominant figure obviously emanates from the Internal Revenue Service offices while the kneeling citizen pleads, ‘Get your hand out of my pocket, please.’ It might be better called the ripoff.”
∎ Phyllis Paulo: “I like it, but it’s a waste of money — and the money could have been used for wiser things like schools or roads.”
∎ Steve Tvorik: “I’m not terribly impressed. It doesn’t look like much aluminum, but they could use anything to add a little esthetic appeal to this city.”
∎ W.D. Donaldson: “When the poor and the needy get hungry, my advice is walk down to the corner of South Main and Market streets and look at the monstrosity. It won’t furnish you any food, but it will sure take your appetite away.”
Ouch.
View from the editor
Beacon Journal Editor Paul Poorman, one of the most influential figures in Summit County at the time, also weighed in on “Caritas.”
“I can’t see why it’s art,” he wrote. “It’s the sort of thing my kids bring home from school with a smile sign drawn on it, meaning it was awfully good work for a kid.”
King returned in September for an exhibit of his works at the Emily Davis Gallery at the University of Akron. The three-week show featured 15 indoor sculptures, three outdoor sculptures and 20 drawings.
The sculptor acknowledged that his gangly figures were meant to be funny.
“I try very hard sometimes to make them serious, but they always seem to want to look like this,” King said at the opening reception. “So, finally, I just give up, let them make themselves into what they want to be. This way, at least, it looks like somebody meant it.”
He said he settled on aluminum as his medium because a lot of previous works got damaged during shipment.
“It was a great joy to find a material that movers couldn’t hurt,” he said.
Another sculpture on plaza
The following year, another art project arose at the Federal Building. The public reaction was muted, though. Perhaps that was because most people couldn’t see it from the street.
New York sculptor Robert Morris (1931-2018), who had been nominated by the same panel that endorsed King, arrived in Akron in October 1979 to oversee the installation of a 60-ton sculpture on the west plaza of the complex.
New York sculptor Robert Morris’ untitled work is completed in October 1978 on the west plaza of the Federal Building at Main and Market streets in downtown Akron. The sculpture consists of 10 granite blocks 8 feet high, 5 feet wide and 3 feet thick.
He had received a $67,000 commission (over $303,000 today) from the U.S. General Services Administration for the untitled work.
On a rainy day, workers from the Lucco Construction Co. used a crane to hoist 10 granite blocks about 30 feet onto the plaza overlooking the Akron Innerbelt.
The monoliths were 8 feet high, 5 feet wide and 3 feet thick, and weighed 6 tons apiece. The crew positioned them in a diagonal on the plaza.
When the work was finished, visitors could peer through a 3½-inch space between the blocks to see all the way through the installment.
Inspiration for granite art
Morris said he had an interest in ancient monuments such as Stonehenge in England. Neolithic constructions functioned as calendars, observatories and temples.
“But that is not the point of this piece,” he told Shinn. “It relates to a very simple technology of handling something: How do you get a plumb line? How do you move it around?”
Snarky answer: With a crane?
He acknowledged that most Akron passers-by wouldn’t see the sculpture, but it would be plainly visible to those looking down from the office towers on South Main Street.
New York sculptor Robert Morris oversees the installation of his 60-ton granite sculpture Oct. 4, 1979, on the west plaza of the Federal Building at Main and Market streets in downtown Akron.
“People might be offended that they don’t understand this piece,” Morris said. “They think it should be so much more self-evident. I wouldn’t go into a nuclear reactor and say, ‘Well, I don’t know if I like what’s going on here because I don’t understand it.’”
Poorman wasn’t at all convinced that this work was art. It was an arrangement of granite blocks on a plaza. So what if people could peer through them?
“But it is certainly true that the initial shock is the hardest — after a while, you sort of get used to modern sculpture, much as you get used to weeds in an unmown yard, beer cans along the highway or the dull headache which accompanies a hangover,” he wrote.
Artwork blends into skyline
The sculptors are gone now. King died in 2015 at 90 and Morris passed away in 2018 at 87.
Their 1970s sculptures remain on the plaza at the Akron complex known today as the John F. Seiberling Federal Building and U.S. Courthouse.
Over the decades, the works blended into the skyline.
On a recent weekday afternoon, a journalist sat on a ledge and watched pedestrians at Main and Market streets. Over a 20-minute span, at least two dozen people walked past.
No one seemed to look at the aluminum figures in front. Only one person passed the granite blocks in the back.
Congratulations, “Caritas” and “Untitled.” You’re no longer controversial.
Mark J. Price can be reached at mprice@thebeaconjournal.com
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This article originally appeared on Akron Beacon Journal: What is that sculpture in downtown Akron?
