Prolefeed: 01 May 2005

From the California Tech, ca. February 2002.

Until today I didn’t appreciate the subtle difference between good modern art and bad engineering, but now I know. For one of them, you flame out of Caltech, and for the other, they pay you two million dollars.

I’m starting to notice a pattern here. I spend the prime of my life trying to hold on to the last few remaining scraps of sanity, and then I find out that we have yet another previously unheard-of faculty committee has been tirelessly working to solve a nonexistent problem. Instead finding practical solutions to ever-present woes, the current administration prefers to discover hidden ones. These problems assigned to committees of overeducated people with too much time on their hands, who then set about trying to outdo the other committees in their race for a panacea.

This week it’s the Institute Art Committee. What’s funny is that, while I am an artist at this very Institute, I hadn’t heard of this committee until today. The committee’s task, according to its first chairman, is to "bring scientists and artists together in a dynamic, informal relationship and see what happens." In the present case, they’ve found a renowned sculptor, Richard Serra, and allowed him to survey the lawn connecting the Beckman Institute and the Broad Center.

For those readers unfamiliar with Serra’s work, he can be described as a minimalist maximus. He takes a simple idea, finds a ton of steel and applies as much force as necessary to mangle it until it’s a work of art. Whereas some artists are content to take a mere canvas or twelve-foot statue to get their points across, Serra takes a modicum of inspiration and a heap of steel or lead and creates something. His gimmick is shear size and power put into the production, and the eventual result is of only secondary importance. Speaking on the nature of his creative process, Serra stated, "you don't become involved with the psychology of what you're making, nor do you become involved with the after image of what it's going to look like." I wish I could design with that kind of freedom, but lawyers tend to file more malpractice suits against engineering firms than art studios.

The great thing about having such a gigantic canvas is that the work, once created, is impossible to ignore. While passers-by may not like it, they’re stuck with it. Since the structures are stationary, neigh indestructible, and critically acclaimed as art, poor unenlightened critics are forced either to praise the work with vague sentences with big words, or risk sounding ignorant by voicing displeasure at something that can’t be changed.

Don’t get me wrong here. I get as excited as anyone about huge pieces of metal, especially if they’re shiny. The only complaint I have about the proposed structure is that it isn’t anywhere near big enough. For two million dollars, the thing ought to be visible from space. People shouldn’t be complaining about not being able to traverse the Beckman lawn; they should be more concerned that the new sculpture blocks out the sun entirely for miles around. The neighbors should cringe in fear of the mightiness that is the Sculpture, and it should inspire future generations to wonder what god-like creatures could have erected such a sublime object.

This artist is, disappointingly, not as ambitious as the pyramid designers. Knowing that Pasadena, while on the whole an art-loving, open-minded group of well-read citizens, would likely disapprove of anything more spectacular than the Rose Parade, he compromised and scaled down the project. The result is a lightening bolt-shaped wall sloping diagonally across the lawn, trying to bridge the distinct architectural styles of BI and the Broad Center. In trying to please everybody, and ended up with a rapidly growing contingent which vows to fight the thing. Even as you read this, dozens of members of the long dormant guardian society Techers for the Eradication of Really Random Iconoclastic Big, Long EyeSores (TERRIBLES) have staked themselves to the Beckman lawn in order to prevent the wall from scarring the natural beauty of the scene.

If the art committee truly wanted a sculpture to capture the essence of Caltech life, they shouldn’t have looked this hard. I feel personally slighted as an accomplished theoretical engineer and artist (in residence, come to think of it) I was not consulted to assist in the design or building of one of these things. What better preparation for abstract sculpture can there be than mechanical engineering, jazz, and ADHD? Caltech students have a legacy of constructing site-specific works of art that increase the enjoyment of the space around them and add entropy to the system, and I’m perturbed that the Art Committee thinks we need outside help in shaking things up.

On the other hand, elements among the higher-ups have been slowly depriving the students of the freedom necessary for art and science to thrive. The music department has seen cuts in funding, and the art department has made cutbacks as well. It just doesn’t make sense to me to take money given for public art and contract an outsider to do our sculpting for us. I suppose the prevailing theory is that the two pursuits are mutually exclusive. Mr. Serra may be an excellent artist, but he isn’t one of us. He doesn’t know torments we put ourselves through, or the reasons we’re willing to go through them. He’s never had the joy of falling asleep in 22 Gates, or the pain of hitting his head on the dryer door in the laundry room. He’s never been run down by a Daihatsu, had to register for a course three times before getting noticed by the Registrar, tried to write a working program in a language that hadn’t been fully written, let alone tested. I don’t imagine he’s fought off scores of underclassmen for strawberry donuts or been unwittingly made a California resident by guilt-tripping signature-mongers outside of Target.

While I’m off the subject, I’d like to point out that the Broad Center is one of the coolest buildings I’ve ever seen. It’s all new-fangled, smooth on the sides but with sharp corners everywhere, and shiny to boot. What makes the Broad Center a masterpiece is that its complex and intricate form doesn’t preclude it from its function; its walls are aesthetically pleasing while still supporting a roof. As far as I’m concerned, the building itself more than artistic enough to meet the public art requirement in the Master Plan for which Vectors is proposed. People will be fixating so much on its splendor that they’ll trip over the sculpture.

Now if Serra could build us some eigenvectors, then he’d be an artist worthy of Caltech.