Culture Shocks and Naked Truths

Culture Shocks and Naked Truths

By Tom Wachunas

There’s nothing quite like encountering nudity for bringing us back to…Eden. It’s in our genes. It’s under our jeans. One way to appreciate the history of clothing is to think of it as the unexpected evolution of the fig leaf all the way up to modern fashion design. Genesis 3 tells us that Adam and Eve were the first seamsters, sewing together fig leaves to cover themselves after noticing for the first time that they were naked and embarrassed by it. Shortly after reading them the riot act of all riot acts, God further obliged his errant children by providing sturdier animal skins (arguably making him the first beast slayer?) to more effectively hide their shame. And the rest, as they say, is haute couture.

Hiding shame is one thing. We’ve made an art of it. But guilt? If there’s one animal, other than that pesky snake, that followed Adam and Eve out of Eden, surely it was an elephant…the same one that has occupied the living room of our souls ever since. Guilt. I often wonder if that isn’t at the heart of the many issues that get stirred up when considering nudity, including its presence in our art.

Very often the whole notion of the unclothed human body seems to trigger controversy, discomfort, angst both intellectual and spiritual. Nude, we are found out, vulnerable, exposed for the flawed, imperfect and indeed failed creatures that we are. Genesis is fairly clear on this point: we, by our own choice, fell from grace. We didn’t measure up. Nudity, when considered in the negative abstract, then, might not be so much a symbol of our original, glorious state of being as it is an unwelcome reminder of paradise lost and our species’ innate guilt.

Of course art history is replete with images and sculptures of the undraped human figure, some of them unabashedly frank and accurate, others more “tasteful” in their rendering. Donatello’s “David”(1428) presents the giant killer as a smirking, weak-muscled boy wearing only boots and a “helmet” that looks more like flowered bonnet, his pose more cocky than demure. Michelangelo’s “answer” (1501) was to present the hero as a svelte young man (no boots ‘n bonnet here) poised for the kill. Artistic nudity in the Renaissance was a revival of classical Greek ideals and esthetics, largely regarded as representing mankind’s nobler aspirations. But even Michelangelo had his detractors, mortified at the sea of nude (frontal and otherwise) figures on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. One of the “disturbing” images of God the Father, though not rendered as a nude, shows him from the back as he creates the planets, his clingy white garment just sheer enough to show us ample evidence of a very muscular, round butt. Oh, the affront (or in this case the a-back) of it all!!!

And so it is that today, in the world of art, exposed flesh can still raise the ire and eyebrows of some viewers. Case in point: the current show, called “The Digital Cloth: Images That Make You Go Hmmm…,” at Kent Stark’s Main Hall Gallery, on view until October 23. The work is by Vince Quevedo, associate professor at Kent State University’s School of Fashion Design and Merchandizing. There have been concerns as well as outright complaints about the full-frontal (male and female) nude images. Some have called it pornographic, which I find to be a gross misunderstanding of the term. Call it vocabulary abuse. A word is a terrible thing to waste. Viewer discretion, and more important, viewer concentration is advised.

On both technical and formal terms, these are fascinating, poetic and at times utterly beautiful images. Professor Quevedo has transferred computer-manipulated digital photos, via bubble jet printer, to quilts and wall hangings made from silk organza and cotton. All of the images are based upon his interpretation of biblical themes, many from Genesis. His “Adam and Eve” is a simple, frontal view of the couple that in no way conjures anything remotely pornographic. In fact, it is a straightforward consideration of created, not “born,” humanity. As the artist noted during his gallery talk, you’ll notice they have no navels.

There are several pieces here that are comprised of two pieces of fabric hung just inches apart, one translucent image lined up directly in front of the same image printed on opaque fabric. The resulting effect is like a shimmering hologram that shifts and changes as you move around it. And it is that shift in appearance that points in a larger way to the very process of how we might interpret art. “Meaning” and indeed the “truth” of a work is as much dependent upon what we bring to it (cultural, social, and/or personal pre-dispositions or education) as what the artist has provided in terms of visual information. In a sense, then, the Biblical references here may or may not be necessary (though I find them compelling just the same) in appreciating the visual impact of these pieces. So, aside from specific narrative content or “message,” this is art about seeing art.


I admit to struggling with what photo I would attach to this posting. I could have shown you one of the frontal nudes. That, I at one point had convinced myself, would be a demonstration of the courage of my aforementioned convictions. Then I thought that such a photo might be regarded as prurient by those who, ill-disposed to nudes in general, might chance upon this blog and find it somehow sensationalist, or worse. Then I thought I think too much. In the end I chose “On the 7th Day” because it speaks so powerfully to me of the spirit of this show. It’s a stunning, even electrifying quilt. It reminds me that God is God. His created world is an entity separate from himself, and one that can choose to resist his restful embrace. And of that resistance, I don’t mind telling you, I am often, you guessed it…guilty. Hmmm…


Photo: “On the 7th Day”, digital photo on quilt, by Vince Quevedo

Waterborne Wonders

Waterborne Wonders

By Tom Wachunas

Maybe it was seeing one too many craft shows and art fairs in my youth. Maybe it was one too many sappy amateur renderings of decrepit red barns (with the prerequisite CHEW MAIL POUCH TOBACCO emblazoned on their knotty sides) heroically rising from windswept plains. Or all those ridiculous liquid flowers fading away into empty white paper. Just because the watercolor medium is waterborne, why do so many watercolors end up looking so…waterlogged? Thus for years I was predisposed to disdain, regarding the medium as the flimsy domain of beginners and hobbyists or, at best, a kind of gateway drug, opening the door to more muscular artistic habits. In my arrogance I thought that if one aspired to be a really serious painter, one would surely graduate from watercolor. Like being weaned from white wine spritzers along the journey to straight Vodka.

Fortunately I have recovered (in more ways than I can tell you here) from such besotted ignorance. The fact of the matter is that when truly mastered – a challenging discipline, to be sure - watercolor is indeed a versatile medium capable of delivering substantial detail, depth, luminescence, and texture. All of that versatility is gloriously abundant in the current exhibition at the Canton Museum of Art, “A Century of American Watercolor,” on view through November 1.

The exhibit, guest-curated by James Keny, of the Keny Gallery in Columbus, Ohio, is comprised of 49 works made from about 1892 through 1992, and gleaned from the Canton Museum of Art permanent collection along with some from selected private collections. Beyond its wide range of techniques, styles, and subject matter, the show is a marvelous record of American art history, offering exhilarating works by “old” as well as contemporary masters of the medium. Here is stunning proof that the Canton Museum of Art has amassed one of the most remarkable collections of watercolors in the Midwest.

Not surprisingly, then, there are several works here that embrace Midwestern life with endearing charm, effectively transporting mind and heart to bygone days, as in the works by Clyde Singer, and Thomas Hart Benton. Similarly, though rendered in tighter detail, “Girl at the Side of a Lake,” by Daniel Ridgeway Knight, exudes contemplative and elegant grace. Nearby is “An Interesting Book,” a trompe l’oeil gem from 1890 by Claude Raguet Hirst. Who knew that watercolor could deliver such startling realism? Elsewhere there are much looser visions that border on pure abstraction, like the gestured fluidity in works by John Marin and Charles Demuth.

While the show offers plenty of thrilling examples of watercolor’s capacity to render saturated and electrifying color (as in George Luks’ delightfully van Gogh-esque “My House, Berkshire”), there are several works that are equally resonant in their stunning celebrations of earthier tonalities. “Wash Bucket,” by Andrew Wyeth, is a disarmingly simple composition rendered in gritty grays, browns, and tans, all orchestrated into a fascinating homage to texture and ethereal light. A similar mastery of neutral palette and subtle light is at work in Jamie Wyeth’s haunting “Partridge House.”

And for those who might over-associate watercolor painting with necessarily smaller-scale, or “intimate” works (as I once did), the three contemporary paintings on the back wall of the main gallery- by Carolyn Brady, Patricia Tobacco Forrester, and Joseph Raffael- are ample evidence to the contrary. These are, relative to all the other works in this show, colossal in size, and each a masterpiece in its own right.

But it is Raffael’s 1992 “Red Lily” that lives up to its scale (45”x 67”) in a way that so completely embodies all that watercolor can be. Here, intricate passages of shimmering reflections amid iridescent forms seem to dance and pulse before our eyes. It’s a deep and sumptuous panorama that reads successfully as both literal figuration and engaging abstraction. The painting is an unforgettably powerful union of medium and subject, a testament to physical and ephemeral harmony. Born of water- that most essential of natural substances- this is art that mesmerizes while immersing us in its life-affirming spirit. Call it, then, a baptism.


Photo: “Wash Bucket” by Andrew Wyeth, 1963, watercolor on paper, 22’’x29”, courtesy Canton Museum of Art, one of 49 works in the exhibition, “A Century of Watercolor,” on view through November 1, 2009, at the Canton Museum of Art.

1001 Market Avenue North in the Cultural Center for the Arts, Canton, Ohio.
Phone: 330-453-7666 www.cantonart.org

The Power of Four

The Power of Four

by Tom Wachunas


Linden String Quartet, Cable Recital Hall, Canton, Ohio, USA, 11.9.2009, (TW)

Joseph Haydn: String Quartet No. 1 in G Major, Op. 76 (1796-7)
Bela Bartok: String Quartet No. 3 (1927)
Ludwig van Beethoven: String Quartet No. 2 in E Minor, Op. 59 (1805-6)


The Canton Symphony Orchestra (CSO) has greatly enhanced what already promises to be a marvelous season with the recent appointment of the Linden String Quartet as its Quartet-in-Residence. The appointment is at the heart of the CSO program to promote Classical music and string playing through various educational presentations in regional schools. Formed in the spring of 2008 by members of the professional chamber ensemble CityMusic Cleveland, the Linden String Quartet won the 2009 Grand Prize and Gold Medal in the prestigious Fischoff National Chamber Music Competition (the largest in the world), as well as the Coleman-Barstow prize at the 2009 Coleman National Chamber Ensemble Competition.

After hearing the Quartet’s inaugural Canton concert (opening the CSO Casual Friday concert series) on September 11, it was easy to understand that such accolades were well deserved. This is an astonishing chamber ensemble, and its presence here marks nothing less than a local cultural milestone.

One immediately intriguing aspect of the concert was the continuity of the musical selections – a continuity not in chronology, but in conceptual terms. The Haydn quartet, first on the program, is among the composer’s most ambitious, written at a time when his instrumental sensibilities were at their peak. As such it was a seminal influence on Beethoven, who would begin composing his own quartets just a few years later. His quartet closed the program here. Placed between the two was the thoroughly modern-sounding Bartok, reminding us with a jolt, perhaps, that he is nonetheless still generally appreciated as the most important contributor to the string quartet genre since Beethoven. Kindred spirits of a sort, both composers consistently and radically expanded the form in their passionate search for new musical expressions.

Thus the imaginative programming laid a solid foundation for showcasing the Quartet’s remarkable depth of technique and brilliantly nuanced, sumptuous tonality. And all of the music on this occasion was delivered with a palpable, infectious joy.

The Quartet’s playing of the Haydn allegro exuded all the delicate grace intrinsic to the music, and was equally confident in delivering the adagio’s cadenza-inspired passages. The performance of the ebullient finale was a gem of show-stopping panache.

Violist Eric Wong then regaled the audience with his humorous but concise introductory comments on Bartok’s complex musical mischief, describing, for example, the allegro movement as “very fast, with some head-banging.” With electrifying and gleeful precision, the Quartet proceeded to execute Bartok’s dense, kaleidoscopic range of percussive effects and thrilling tonal acrobatics. The 15-minute work elicited a considerable number of pleasantly startled looks, and murmurs of delight from the audience.

Violinist Sarah McElravy warmly introduced the Beethoven piece with an informed grasp of its significance in history as well as its sheer musical power. Indeed, the Quartet demonstrated an uncanny ability to sound downright symphonic, particularly in rendering the second movement’s dreamlike atmosphere, as well as the jaunty dance energy of the presto finale.

What resonated, too, was McElravy’s poignant observation of Beethoven’s response to critics of the day who reacted unfavorably to the evolving formal innovations in his quartets. “Oh, they are not for you,” he said on one occasion, “but for another age.” As evidenced by the standing ovation here, that age is clearly our own.

Tom Wachunas



Photo by Josef Samuel for the Fischoff National Chamber Music Association.

The Linden String Quartet (left-to-right): Eric Wong, viola; Sarah McElravy, violin; Catherine Cosbey, violin; Felix Umansky, cello

A League of Our Own

A League of Our Own

By Tom Wachunas

Dear Canton Artists League,

As I approach my third year as a member of the Canton Artists League (CAL), I feel compelled to communicate some things for our members’ consideration, and for that matter, anyone else who might be interested. To one degree or another, some of you may be taken aback by my opinions and observations, and I add only that these are offered in a spirit of honesty and genuine concern.

It’s clear to me that CAL is a combined fellowship of accomplished masters in their respective mediums, apprentices- in-progress, and dedicated novices, which would include hobbyists and “casual practitioners.” This is to be expected in a group such as this, with its generalized “mission” – a democratic embrace of art-makers at varying levels of development and passion. As I understand it, CAL’s over-arching intention is to encourage and inspire its members to not only nurture their artistic passion, but to “further their creativity” through various workshops and exhibition opportunities.

My concerns are in the area of what CAL demonstrates to both the art-viewing public at large, as well as to the local community of serious practicing artists who seem content to remain unaffiliated with it. In particular, I’ve been wondering about exactly what the League has projected to these communities with its flurry of group shows in the last 6-8 months or so, and its ever-growing hunger for exposure as it searches for more shows in more venues.

Of all our most recent exhibitions, the largest of course was the CAL Spring Show at the Canton Museum of Art. Some of you may recall my blog review of the show. Therein I observed that it was a good thing for student and novice artists to rub elbows with those who are decidedly more accomplished and mature in their adopted visual languages. I meant it strictly from the perspective of demonstrating to greater Canton that there’s a remarkable amount of joyous creative energy in this community. But by now, that’s old news (and has been for years, actually), and creative energy in itself is not synonymous with noteworthy art or art shows. Thus, I didn’t mean to imply that the Spring Show was a hotbed of stellar talent. It surely wasn’t. The League was quite fortunate to have the opportunity to present itself in such a prestigious context, and it seemed to me that maybe half of the works in that show were merely competent at best, and not museum-caliber material by a long shot.

The problems at the heart of the Spring Show were the same problems at the heart of all the CAL shows (I was in a few myself) over the past several years. Based on the overall content of our shows, the message we have consistently sent (and I agree with what I have heard from several dozen non-member artists, as well as curators and astute art viewers over the years) is that we are often too watercolor-heavy, and otherwise entrenched in the traditional niceties of representational art, though certainly there are a few interesting pure abstractionists and experimenters on our roster. And this is certainly not to say there’s something inherently wrong with watercolors or representational art, or that we must beat the pavement to fill our ranks with an avant- garde element -though we shouldn’t necessarily dismiss that possibility as untenable or ludicrous. Still, CAL shows have become increasingly predictable in how they exude a lethargic, generic regionalism. And with as many shows as we seem interested in lining up, I fear we will become too familiar too often (or have we crossed that line already?) to the viewing public. And familiarity here doesn’t so much breed contempt as it generates sheer boredom.

What is our primary purpose when we mount an exhibit? To invite the public to see our self-congratulatory indulgence in mounting lots of shows, of uneven quality, all over the place? Or are our shows strictly for us, to see how our work stacks up against that of our fellow CAL members? Do we want to consider a curatorial element, as in juried shows in the truest sense? Do we fear that such an element would foster unwanted competition, or internal divisiveness? For now, I think that for better or worse, it’s a foregone conclusion that as long as we carry on with business as usual, CAL group shows will continue to be mixed-bag affairs that have little impact beyond the confines of our membership. And if that works for the membership, so be it.

Yet, when I really get down to some serious daydreaming, I envision CAL as a local cultural lightning rod. I see a permanent facility- a home base- that presents a rotating exhibit of its members’ work, with knowledgeable and accomplished guest curators overseeing the installations. I envision a concerted effort to find grants, endowments, and/or filthy rich art lovers able and willing to get such a project off the ground.

Maybe this isn’t a sustainable vision at this or any juncture. Or maybe Canton isn’t ready just yet. Still, it would be thrilling to see us called up from the Minors to play in the Majors.


Photo: “Man Writing a Letter,” oil, by Gabriel Metsu, 1660

Wrong Stuff, Right Stuff

Wrong Stuff, Right Stuff

By Tom Wachunas

Consider this particular post a grab-bag of sorts…just some things I need to communicate. For starters, I love the attached cartoon. Is it prophetic in the context of my recent musings about the state of public artworks in Canton? I certainly hope not. The worst case scenario is that the wrong people foist the wrong art into the public arena, making Canton a laughingstock.

Speaking of states of things, Lois DiGiacomo, founder of Rainbow Repertory Theater (among other hats she wears well) and a charming arts raconteur who hosts her own show on Canton City Schools Television called “State of the Arts,” was gracious enough to interview me recently and we talked about my ideas on…you guessed it, public artworks in Canton. I am grateful. She asked some probing questions. I know this is short notice, but if you have access to Canton Time Warner Cable Channel 11, our talk airs several times for the remainder of this week, including Wednesday, September 16 at 6am and 7:30pm, Thursday at 12:30am (yikes), 6:30am and 8:30pm, Friday at 7am, 10:30am, 2:30pm and 6:30pm, and Saturday at 3am (yikes again), 7am, 10:30am, and 9:30pm. I’m the second guest on the show, and please do watch the whole show and for that matter keep watching it in the future. You can see the program schedule listed on the calendar at www.ccsdistrict.org/ccstv . DiGiacomo is doing a great service for Canton, giving voice to all sorts of artists and arts organizations. Her show is an example of the right stuff going on around here when it comes to promoting arts awareness and dialogue.

If it’s not apparent to you by now, I love writing about what goes on around here, because there’s so much right stuff right here right now. For example, the Canton Symphony Orchestra. It’s one of the crown jewels residing in the Cultural Center for the Arts, along with Canton Ballet, Players Guild Theatre, VOCI (Voices of Canton, Inc.), and of course the marvelous Canton Museum of Art. I am happy to report that very shortly (beginning in another week or so) I will be a regular contributor to a web site called MusicWeb International, and in particular one of its links for live concert reviews, “Seen And Heard.” Canton’s orchestra can hold its own against some of the best I’ve ever heard, and deserves in-depth commentary that unfortunately you’ll never see (yet, anyway) in The Repository. The website is at www.musicweb-international.com When you get there, click on the tab for “Live Reviews”, which will take you to “Seen And Heard” web magazine, then click on the"International Concerts" tab. Better yet, go to cantonsymphony.org and order tickets to see a phenomenally fine orchestra work its magic. Write on.

Primum non nocere

Primum non nocere
By Tom Wachunas

Huh? OK, it’s Latin for, “First, do no harm.” Long ago, this dictum became associated with the Hippocratic Oath, though the specific wording never appeared in Hippocrites’ original Greek instructions to doctors. The axiom has, however, nonetheless come to embody the spirit of accountability and intentionality that should drive healers’ actions. Beyond that, it seems to be a relevant admonition for all human interactions, and I couldn’t get it out of my mind after seeing the Players Guild Theatre’s season-opening production of the now iconic rock musical, “Rent.”

Here is a story of scarred, wounded, and dying people who at one point in the show sing out in “Will I?” their communal desire to hang on to their last real possession – their dignity. Their sense of personal worth. Their final measure of a life fully realized. On the face of it, it could be easy to dismiss their groanings as misplaced self-pity in the light of their lifestyles that many of us find unreasonable, self-destructive, and/or morally reprehensible. “Rent” is an unflinching look at the underside of a bohemian world that less adventuresome folks would regard as mystifying or darkly romantic at best, and genuinely terrifying at worst. Which is precisely the reason for us to examine it with open hearts and minds. For this story is not a celebration or condoning of particular behaviors or circumstances, among them homelessness, homosexuality, and drug addiction. It is, rather, an affirmation of the compassion that heals the devastation that those situations can generate. In essence, this is a love story. It speaks more to real hope than to preachy moralizing or superficial happy endings.

And the people who do the speaking here, whether in song or in spoken dialogue, do so with a verve and eloquence that can pierce even the most hardened, intransigent hearts. For starters, director Jon Tisevich has set the performing bar very high by virtue of his own Broadway performance history with the musical. Here, he reprises his role of Roger, the brooding and reclusive guitarist/songwriter, infected with HIV and struggling to finish composing just one more great song. Tisevich is a soaring, distinctly professional presence on stage, and in fact a blessing on the proceedings. While his astonishing musicality and dramatic skills are powerful, they’re never so overpowering that they upstage the rest of the cast. Rather, those skills seem to have inspired his fellow cast members to reach deep inside and deliver thoroughly riveting performances on their own terms.

Justin Williams plays Mark, a filmmaker and Roger’s roommate. He narrates much of the action with a fascinating mix of wry and melancholic humor. His singing and dancing duet with Tiffany Stoker in “Tango Maureen” is a gem of bittersweet hilarity. To her role of Joanne, Stoker brings notable wit and swagger, as does Samantha Crowe in her role of Maureen (Joanne’s lover), an alternately ditzy and defiant performance artist. Daryl Robinson is convincing as he struggles to reconcile with his estranged friends in the East Village artist community where he is now their landlord. Joshua Baum plays Angel, a cross-dressing drummer, not as flamboyantly as his costumes would seem to warrant, but rather with an endearing and confident gentleness. Jennifer Hayek’s portrayal of Mimi, a sassy exotic dancer with a serious drug habit, is searing and poignant, particularly as she sings the haunting “Without You.” And one of the production’s most emotionally commanding moments comes when Christopher Gales, in his excellent portrayal of Tom Collins, a former academic, mourns Angel’s death in a thunderous, heartrending reprise of the song “I’ll Cover You.”

Kudos to the five-member band, too. Steve Parsons (conductor/piano/keyboards), Erin Vaughn (guitar), Brent Schloneger (keyboards/guitar), John Chambers (bass), and Patrick Wagner (drums/percussion) make a marvelous noise indeed, rich with textures both silky and coarse.

For the moment, let’s set aside the understandable anxiety that can accompany how some (perhaps many?) of us might view “uncomfortable” theatrical literature. As this story unfolds, its more lurid (though never gratuitous) content is clearly outweighed by the timely urgency of its message: the possibility of healing through unconditional love. It starts with how we treat each other. Primum non nocere.

In our culture that seems to value increasingly selfish, insipid and otherwise escapist forms of entertainment, “Rent” is a communal act of faith and courage, presented here with electrifying passion. As such, it resonates long after the applause has faded and the house gone dark. It asks us all, I think, to seriously own our accountability to others. It asks us all to consider ourselves not as passive members of an entertained audience, but rather as active messengers of hope far beyond the stage.

Bravo, Players Guild, for asking the tough questions.


Photo: The cast of “Rent,” at the Players Guild Theatre, 1001 Market Ave. N, Canton, through September 27. Box office: (330) 453- 7617 / www.playersguildtheatre.com

ARTWACH / www.artwach.blogspot.com

Gridiron Gauche?

Gridiron Gauche ?
By Tom Wachunas

Before reading any further, if you don’t already know some of my concerns about public art installations in Canton, I suggest going to the archive here and reading the March 18 post, “Downtown Dumping Ground,” as well as the August 15 post, “Desperately Seeking Connections, part 2.”

In his August 23 “Your Voice” piece for The Repository, Robb Hankins, president and CEO of ArtsinStark, the County Arts Council, proposed “The Amazing Football Collection” to be installed in downtown Canton over the course of a decade. The collection would consist of 15 pieces of “jaw-dropping” art with a football theme. The kind of art that will stop people in their tracks and throw them into fits of hyperbolic praise for the Hall of Fame City. The kind of art that proclaims Canton’s proud place in human history as the birthplace of professional football. The kind of art that will draw tourists from far and wide and leave them awe-struck as they spend their money in downtown restaurants and businesses and in the process generate lots of jobs.

In light of all the hype about Canton’s “arts explosion” (largely the result of partnerships between the city of Canton, ArtsinStark, real estate developers, and folks at the Canton Chamber and Special Improvement District), when it rains downtown public art projects, it pours. Or so it would seem, judging from Hankins’ ambitious if not far-fetched proposal.

In envisioning partners for this enterprise, Hankins also included private investors, the Pro Football Hall of Fame, and the NFL. Clearly, the intention here is to bring in the heavy hitters and ratchet up Canton’s cultural profile to national if not world-class status. But where in this mix of partners is Canton’s most prominent presenter and preserver of visual fine art, the Canton Museum of Art? Therein we have an astonishingly rich resource of experience and knowledge when it comes to discerning and exhibiting truly significant and important works. M.J. Albacete, the museum’s executive director, has told me on several occasions that in the process of witnessing the installation of past public art pieces in downtown Canton, he has never been asked for his input on either a professional or “official” level, and remains out of the loop in considering Hankins’ latest ideas.

Excluding Albacete from artistic endeavors designed to have far-reaching, indelible effects on our community is beyond curious. It’s a shameful and otherwise egregious affront to common sense.

So once again I beat the same drum, now beginning to sound worn and increasingly muted. Who exactly is approving what we see as public art downtown? One man? A committee of business people and politicians? A confederacy of well-meaning amateurs? Beyond an already well-demonstrated fundraising (though not necessarily fund-distributing) expertise, what relevant experience and legitimate arts credentials do they bring to the table? What, specifically, is the operative philosophy driving our public art’s look, placement, and ideological content?

Maybe we should rein in this public art wagon train for a time, and re-assess the terrain. In theory, there’s nothing really tasteless about the idea of using public art projects to enhance awareness of this city’s seminal place in football history. But 15 football artworks in downtown? That, I fear, amounts to overkill of the worst kind, the consequence being a community embarrassment rather than a cultural enhancement. There is real danger here that our desire for artful monuments will mutate into a macabre circus of tchochkes. Come to think of it, based on the current crop of downtown public art works viewed in the aggregate, we seem to be already well along that road.

So perhaps a less-is-more approach needs to be seriously embraced. Why not judiciously spread the wealth, and place spectacular sculptures at, say, just four or five “gateway” entrances to Canton? Or in selected city parks? Or establish such monuments in other designated areas, perhaps re-claiming presently neglected real estate?

There seems to be an ever- growing desire for Canton to receive more national attention to its football history. Why not start with upgrading the HOF annual parade and make it truly worthy of national attention once and for all with floats and balloons comparable to the artistic scale and excellence of those in the Parade of Roses or the Macy’s Parade?

If this community is indeed serious about glorifying football with public art, the least it MUST expect is art that is commanding and noteworthy in its own right. Art that stands on its own as the very best our qualified presenters can offer, and thus deserving of respectful attention from casual viewers and seasoned aficionados alike. Art that doesn’t drop the ball.