I am often asked "where are we on the Business 40 bridges project?" "what's going on with public art?" "what we can we do to help get it going?" And I must say, big-picture wise, regarding public art in Winston-Salem, the image that flashes in my mind, and catches responding words in my throat when asked such questions, is the symbol above.
For the musically challenged among us - and yes, I once pronounced the phrase "treble and bass" as if I were describing fishing adjectives for "hook and boat" - here's a nuanced description from the site www.bach-cantatas.com. "A fermata is the musical symbol of a semicircle (facing downward) with a dot inside it. In some music, it means we should hold a note longer than we would normally. In other music, it simply marks the end of a phrase (e.g. in a Bach chorale) suggesting a lift or a breath, with or without extra time; or in some other situations it merely marks the end of a whole piece, meaning 'don't bother turning the page, you've reached the last note.' Some people automatically assume that it means the first thing; others take it situation by situation. It's important to think about, anyway."
I think giving birth to a sustained public art effort in Winston-Salem is a bit like listening to a "fermata cantata." There are many beautiful voices - artists, institutions, politicians, administrators, advocates. I hear some intriguing melody lines - new bridges defined by creative art and design, a centennial to be celebrated with art placed joyfully around town. Efforts at a basso continuo - a city-sponsored public art commission, maybe, eventually, with common folk involved in the claiming and proclaiming. There are performing stages (though to date they change with each movement of the work) - Arts Council, SECCA, NCDOT, private developers. But there's just a lot of fits and starts that are hard for people to follow. Even for someone as dedicated as I am to the promise of public art, it takes a lot of effort to believe there is a unity to all these staccato bursts, a product that will sound as sweet as I believe it will when we look back on what we've done here.
The fact is, in music, you have to have a conductor, a leader, to tell you how long the fermatas are. The conductor tells you when to stop, but when to get going again. The conductor has to have a baton everyone can see and acknowledge from their point of view, not just a soapbox to stand on. For our public art effort, that baton-wielding conductor could be a political leader, a sustaining benefactor, or both.
I'd like to tell you when this "fermata cantata" piece will be set, when everyone will heed their cues, when unity of purpose will make a beautiful public art music we can all see with our eyes. I can promise you, though, that the more who advocate for public art from the city, who say they want "a ticket," the sooner the performance will be underway again. And at the end of that day, I'll say "Bravo!"