While art honed and perfected behind the closed doors of galleries often escapes criticism, in the public realm of civic or communal spaces it is subject to far more scrutiny and ire. Whether a gigantic electric blue cockerel presiding over London’s Trafalgar Square or a memorial dedicated to the victims of a massacre in Norway, large-scale installations that go up on public display are more likely to spark outrage and controversy than those that remain hidden away in private collections. Often, too, the people who live near or use these artworks are more invested in their fate than a few art critics.
Public art can take many forms and is usually site-specific – it resides in accessible public spaces such as parks, squares and streets that most residents have easy access to. It is not intended to be seen on a touring exhibition and, unlike most gallery art, it is often a permanent fixture. It may interpret the history of a place or people and address a specific social or environmental issue. It can include sculpture, murals, memorials, integrated architectural and landscape architectural work, community art, digital new media, and performances.
There is no one answer to the question of what constitutes public art, as its role is a constantly evolving and expanding one. While it is commonly associated with a monumental sculpture or painting in a public space, it can also encompass projects that enliven or regenerate sites and offer deep theoretical contemplation about the surroundings.
Traditionally, public art has served as a form of political and social protest. Examples range from the colossal statues of the pharaohs carved into the cliffside facade of Abu Simbel in southern Egypt to Michelangelo’s equestrian marble statue of David erected on the Piazza della Signoria in Florence, which was designed with a very clear public in mind – the Florentine Republic.
More recently, climate change has been a major focus of public art. Icelandic artist Olafur Eliasson’s Ice Watch, for example, a series of sites where blocks of melting Arctic ice are arranged in a clock formation, confronts viewers with the physical reality of global warming and reminds us of the fragility of our planet.
It can evoke strong emotional responses, too, as was the case when the British artist Richard Wright’s controversial statue of Marilyn Monroe grappling with her dress sparked outrage and outpourings of grief when it appeared in Palm Springs in 1996. It has, however, remained in the city despite being deemed as one of the worst pieces of public art ever created by many. Its survival raises questions about the legitimacy of certain kinds of art in the public sphere.