By Martin Macdonald
A centre of finance rather than an
arts hub, the Square Mile is a part of London I rarely visit. Defying the
economic downturn, new skyscrapers accommodating global financial institutions continue
to pop up in the area. Last week however, Sculpture
in the City 2013, an exhibition
of public sculptures by internationally renowned artists provided me with a reason to drop by the capital’s money-pumping heart. In its third iteration,
the yearlong show held from 20 June is a mixed bag: the financial
district itself helps add new meanings to the artworks, making some engaging
and ironic, whilst others remain decorative or simply boring.
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| Robert Indiana's LOVE in the Square Mile |
On exiting Bank station, I headed to
99 Bishopsgate, where Robert Indiana’s LOVE
(1966-1999) greets passersby. The red and blue aluminium letters spelling
out the word “LOVE” inject a sense of joy into an otherwise dull corner. Despite having come across several versions of the artwork, I still find it impossible
to dislike it. Flooding the market, many LOVE
sculptures fail to sell at auction. In this manner, the piece draws parallelisms with the worlds of
finance and art auctions where speculation runs rampant. Although this
particular piece is not for sale - not as part of the exhibition anyway - love as
a commodity therefore becomes an interesting concept in an area of London where money talks.
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| Jake and DInos Chapman's three works The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, 2007 |
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| Jake and DInos Chapman's sculpture outside "The Gherkin" |
My next stop, 30 St Mary Axe is commonly
known as “The Gherkin”. Standing just outside the phallic edifice and seemingly
inspired by Richard Serra’s large-scale metal works rather than by Sergio
Leone’s 1966 spaghetti western, Jake and Dinos Chapman’s The Good, The Bad and The Ugly
(all from 2007) do not go unnoticed. The corten steel dinosaurs’ simple shapes
so reminiscent of children’s drawings bring a touch of humour to this prime
location. Observing the works, I could not help but wonder whether they allude to
the financial sector's volatility, greed and power.
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Ryan Gander, More Really Shiny Things that Don't Mean Anything, 2011
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| (detail) More Really Shiny Things that Don't Mean Anything |
Across the road, on Undershaft, Ryan
Gander’s More Really Shiny Things that
Don’t Mean Anything (2011) is a large globe-like structure on a plinth. The work may appear “significant” but it is in fact made up of thousands
of silver-coloured metallic objects that hold no real function. At first glance
the individual bits look like door knobs, taps and pots but
they are neither. The work’s bubble shape and “artifice” can
therefore be seen as a metaphor for neoliberal economies that encourage
speculative electronic transactions based on money that doesn’t really exist –
a world of deregulated, artificially inflated economies.
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| (left) Keith Coventry, Mare Street, E8, 2009 (right) Keith Coventry, Bench, 1996 |
Just outside the relatively small Hiscox insurance
building, stand two subtle works by Keith Coventry. Bench (1996), a bronze cast iron frame of a park bench rises from a
concrete platform. It cuts a strange, almost emaciated form and has no function
because unlike normal benches, it provides nothing to sit on. Given that
benches are places for rest and contemplation, as a “seatless” bench, the work
becomes a symbol of social decay and instability.
In conversation with it stands Mare Street, E8 (2009) a thin black tree
stump bronze cast. The narrow sculpture can be viewed as a symbol of city
living whereby trees have been removed in order to make way for pavements and
new buildings. In the context of the Square Mile, the question arises: do these
two pieces also allude to the notion that ordinary citizens are being let down
by politicians and financial institutions looking out for their own interests?
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| Richard Wentworth, Twenty-Four Hour Flag, 1992 |
In the form of four kitchen chairs,
Richard Wentworth’s Twenty-Four Hour Flag
(1992) balances itself on an edge atop the Hiscox building.
However, unlike flags that move in the wind, these chairs are static and rather dull. Large trees nearby and construction cranes distract the viewer, making it highly unlikely that many
people will spot the work. Ultimately, Wenworth’s piece seems like a missed opportunity
to connect with the Square Mile’s skyline.
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| Shirazeh Houshiary, String Quartet, 2011 |
Another bland piece can be found in
a square down the road. Comprising five spiralling stainless steel ribbons that
appear to unravel from the ground below, Shirazeh Houshiary’s String Quartet (2011) looks rather “corporate”.
With its delicate limbs dancing in unison, the piece can therefore be seen as a PR stunt for the financial sector. Yet, no matter how much “spin” is “spun”, most
people are aware that social equality is not one
of the financial sector’s priorities, making the rhythmic harmony of the piece rather
cynical.
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| Antony Gormley, Parallel Field, 1990 |
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| (detail) Antony Gormley's Parallel Field |
On the pavement just above stands
Antony Gormley’s Parallel Field
(1990), two cast iron figures, which despite the distance between them, look
somewhat connected. As City employees walk on their way to work, they must
dodge rather than interact with Gormley’s leaning human-like sculptures. In
this manner, Parallel Field alludes
to the disconnect between City workers and their surroundings – a rush to make
money taking precedence above all else. It is rather telling that in the time I
was observing the works, no-one else seemed to take any notice of them.
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| Robert Indiana's ONE THROUGH ZER0 (THE TEN NUMBERS) in the Square Mile |
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Robert Indiana's ONE THROUGH ZER0 (THE TEN NUMBERS) in the Square Mile
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The last piece however, Robert
Indiana’s ONE THROUGH ZERO (THE TEN NUMBERS) (1980 - 2001) makes a good match with the Square
Mile. Placed between the Norman Foster designed Lime Street building and the
Richard Rogers designed Lloyd’s building, the colourful metal numbers are what
the world of finance is all about – counting, money, profit.
Having reached the end of my cultural
escapade in London’s financial centre, I felt that Sculpture in the City provides food for thought. Like the Square
Mile itself, it is a mix of brains, brawn and utter nonsense. I left the area
wanting to return, not particularly to see the sculptures or mingle with the conservative looking
City workers but to observe the architecture once again.
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buildings in the Square Mile
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