/ 14 August 1998

But is it Bart?

Steve Smith

The thing about a public sculpture is that it’s a lot like a tattoo. If you’re going to have one, best think long and hard about what you want. Once it’s there, it’s there.

This was the responsibility placed on the judges in the recent Public Sculpture Competition organised by the Cape Town Urban Arts Foundation in collaboration with the Association for Visual Arts and the JK Gross Trust. The panel were entrusted with the tricky task of picking a sculpture to adorn the very public pedestrian thoroughfare of St George’s Mall in Cape Town – an assignment made particularly difficult by the fact that very few of the 60 submitted pieces could practically be built.

Surely, regarding a decision of such importance, one would like as wide a variety of options as possible. Realistically, there were probably 10 pieces that could actually make it from a 30cm maquette to a full size sculpture without falling over in the first south- easter or being dismantled and recycled by the city’s homeless.

Sporting sharp spikes and other dangerous protrusions, a couple of pieces even posed an inherent health threat – the potential guilt of an impaled German tourist would’ve immediately placed these works in the judges’ “I don’t think so” category.

Tough decision then. Of the 10 that finally met the primary criteria of relative longevity, it was obvious that there were only five real contenders, with the smart money on Kevin Brand’s klop klop klop. This piece had it all. Three different abstract shapes placed in a way that instantly recalls Jan van Rie- beeck’s three ships. It was simple yet sophisticated – accessible on different levels from “just nice to look at” to a deeper, formalised academic interpretation (no sharp spikes either). Surely, in an event of this nature, right up the judges alley – safe, inoffensive and likely to appeal to locals and tourists.

Actually, no. As it turns out, the panel of judges, including sculptor David Brown, architect Douglas Roberts and arts and culture co-ordinator for the city, Delysia Forbes, went for something a little more leftfield.

The winner instead, was Brett Murray’s Africa – an eye-catching submission made of an African tourist statuette solemnly enduring the indignity of yellow Bart Simpson heads sprouting from various parts of its body. It’s a not-too-subtle comment on the Western and African cross-cultural hybrid we like to call home.

Or in his own words: “It’s about satirical entertainment, about living in South Africa with parallel cultures – the bizarreness of the mix. It subverts the authenticity of Western icons. I guess I could have used anything, but I thought Bart was the appropriate cultural American icon.”

For anyone who sees the final three- metre cast bronze piece and doesn’t get all that, it’s at least good for a laugh. Whether it’s a delighted giggle from a kid or a “what the hell is that” guffaw from an adult, this is one public sculpture that will not blend into the background.

But for the artist there are some dangers involved in having such a quirky piece permanently on display. What happens when, in a few years’ time you’ve moved on from that particular frame of reference and look back at that piece with a degree of bemusement? Should you be worried? “I’m terrified” says Murray, “but hopefully the piece will continue to resonate with the public. They’re welcome to melt the bronze down for the next winner.”

Murray’s references guarantee his piece the required shelf life and, in choosing it, the judges have been bold and brave. They’ve gone for a truly contemporary, cutting-edge form, and like the FNB Vita fine art award judges who recently went with the edgiest candidate in the boundary-bashing form of Steven Cohen, they deserve a thunderous round of applause.

Murray’s work might not be everyone’s kettle of piranha, but give it a chance.