Dear History Lover,

          Taking a walk through New England streets in autumn produces a feeling of giddiness. The expansive array of Halloween's shrieking jack-o-lanterns and slightly disarming skeletons provides the passerby with an expression of public art that is both festive and fun. As I strolled through the neighborhood, I delved deeper into the concept of public art, whether it be privately expressed upon one’s doorstep or publicly exhibited in high profile locations. Throughout civilization, humans have honored historical figures, political movements, and groundbreaking events through public displays of art and memorials. These monuments, often funded by those wielding fiscal power, may reflect a singular, rather than expansive, point of view. In the Ancient Greco-Roman era, statues were often used as propaganda, similar to modern-day billboards, promoting political leaders and their agendas. A flourishing of artistic expression, demonstrated in the Renaissance, featured overt displays of artistry that were funded by the uber wealthy.

          These investors, often political or religious leaders, maintained immense influence over the content and themes depicted. As a result, public art often became a reflection of the aspirations for the privileged elite, rather than a demonstration of artistic prowess. In recent history (18th-century through present), public art served as a critical tool for propaganda. During the Nazi regime, propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels manipulated imagery to demonize the masses who did not fit into a mythical ideal of Aryan supremacy.

          Similarly, the Soviet Union utilized monumental sculptures and murals to project images of strength and unity, while simultaneously suppressing and silencing voices of dissent. 

          In U.S. history, public art installations, spanning from Civil War statues, to the presidential visages on Mount Rushmore, have immortalized a narrow glimpse into the cloudy window of American History. The essential motivation is to add to these images by constructing memorializations of complementary and/or contradictory viewpoints; perspectives that reflect the memories and experience of America’s broad and varied communities. We may not cancel history; we may only learn it in such great depth to create a comprehensive grasp of its long-lasting implications.

          For example, Mount Rushmore, aka "Grandfather Mountain," the very site on which the faces of Washington, Jefferson, Teddy Roosevelt, and Lincoln were carved by Gutzon Borglum, was unlawfully taken from the Dakota and Oceti Sakowin people in the 1800s. Harriet Senie, a renowned art historian, said, “It’s important to invent alternative pasts for a culture that finds it hard to accept the real one. It’s paradoxical that a Shrine of Democracy is placed in the center of land acquired through a well documented blatant example of 500 years of genocide and hemispheric conquest.”

          Additionally, a 1993 monument, “Danzas Indigenas,” by Judy Baca, honors the indigenous, Spanish, and Mestizo people that lived in Baldwin Park, CA prior to the arrival of Europeans. The piece was commissioned to reflect the diverse cultures of the City of Baldwin Park– past and present. According to Baca, “Its intention was to become a site of public memory for the people of Baldwin Park; to make visible their invisible history.” It achieves this goal by featuring many quotes, including, statements by local residents.

The monument, an archway designed in part to reflect the nearby San Gabriel mission, sparked controversy years after its creation. Save Our State, an activist organization opposing illegal immigration, protested for the removal of quotes such as: “It was better before they came” and  “the kind of community that people dream of rich and poor, white, brown, yellow all living together.” They believed these statements to be “anti-American” and “racially-charged.” According to Baca, “This statement ‘it was better before they came,’ was deliberately ambiguous. About which ‘they’ is the anonymous voice speaking? The statement was made by an Anglo local resident who was speaking about Mexicans. The ambiguity of the statement was the point, and is designed to say more about the reader than the speaker – and so it has.” 

          Public art mirrors society, and reflects the power dynamics and narratives of time. While celebrated for its capacity to inspire and challenge, it cannot be divorced from its role in shaping historical memory and reinforcing dominant ideology. Understanding this dynamic prompts a critical engagement with public art, urging us to dismantle 'cancel culture' and embrace a more inclusive, representative past.