How much bearing should private grief have on public art?

Would a proposed Thameside sculpture made of steel girders taken from the debris of the twin towers offer a focal point for reflection? Photograph: Peter Morgan/Reuters; Original post by Jonathan Jones, OnArtBlog, The Guardian

In May 1504, a colossal statue carved by the young Michelangelo was moved through the streets of Florence towards its chosen site in the political centre of the city. Mysterious assailants, perhaps supporters of the then-exiled Medici family, threw stones at it under cover of darkness. Public art has been controversial ever since David was stoned.

When a work of art is exhibited in a space defined as "public" rather than "private", its meanings change; it can assume a new kind of power or suffer a new kind of disgrace. Over time, it tends to become part of the local scenery – a generalisation to which David is an obvious exception. But when an artwork is new it can generate controversy that seems inexplicably intense, sometimes tearing down the barrier between fine art and real-life emotions. Read more

In May 1504, a colossal statue carved by the young Michelangelo was moved through the streets of Florence towards its chosen site in the political centre of the city. Mysterious assailants, perhaps supporters of the then-exiled Medici family, threw stones at it under cover of darkness. Public art has been controversial ever since David was stoned.

When a work of art is exhibited in a space defined as "public" rather than "private", its meanings change; it can assume a new kind of power or suffer a new kind of disgrace. Over time, it tends to become part of the local scenery – a generalisation to which David is an obvious exception. But when an artwork is new it can generate controversy that seems inexplicably intense, sometimes tearing down the barrier between fine art and real-life emotions.

Originally posted OnArtBlog