Professional Documents
Culture Documents
1965
by
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A dissertation submitted in partial fulfillment
of the requirements for the degree of
Doctor of Philosophy
(History of Art)
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in the University of Michigan
2016
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Doctoral Committee:
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DEDICATION
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Writing a dissertation requires many hours of solitary effort, but it also depends on the
generosity and goodwill of others. In that respect, I have been most fortunate to benefit from the
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advice and material assistance of many individuals over the past four years. My thanks go first
to Nicole Avila, who arranged for my initial foray into the records of the General Services
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Administration (GSA) and then supported my work there over countless follow-up visits.
Thanks as well to the staff of the GSA and the Art in Architecture program, and specifically
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Michael Finn and Jennifer Gibson, for their willingness to share records and thoughts with an
eager graduate student. I am also indebted to Claire Denny, Smithsonian American Art
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Museum; Patricia Walsh, Americans for the Arts; Paul M. Pietsch, National Association of State
Art Agencies; John Larwood, Social Security Administration; and Jonathan Kuhn, New York
City Parks Department—each of whom went out of their way to help me access objects and
information. This dissertation would be a much less vibrant study without their assistance.
Similarly, this dissertation’s fourth chapter was only possible thanks to the willingness of
conservators to speak candidly about the challenges and successes of their field. My thanks to
Raina Chao, Saint Louis Art Museum; Tiarna Doherty, Smithsonian American Art Lunder
Conservation Center; Robert Lodge, McKay Lodge Laboratory; and Mark Rabinowitz,
Conservation Solutions, Inc. I offer further thanks to the many individuals from state and local
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public art programs who fielded my calls and requests for information. In completing this
dissertation, it has been a joy to get to know professionals across the public art field, and their
A number of institutions graciously supported this research, and none more so than the
Fellowship Coordinator, Amelia Goerlitz, and curator, Karen Lemmey, ensured that my time at
the museum was as ideal as one could ever expect. I am deeply indebted to Americans for the
Arts, the Getty Research Library, New York University’s Summer Institute in Technical Art
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History, the University of Victoria’s Digital Humanities Summer Institute, Saginaw Valley State
University and the Marshall M. Fredericks Sculpture Museum for their direct support, research
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access, and skills training, without which this text would not have been possible. The University
of Michigan’s Rackham Graduate School, Institute for the Humanities, and the department of the
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History of Art supported this work in innumerable ways for which I am most grateful. I have
also had the great fortune to be part of an incredible cohort and I thank each of them—Grant
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Mandarino, Emily Talbot, Alice Sullivan, and Wendy Sepponen—for their friendship and
Claire Zimmerman—for their constant support and encouragement, and my most sincere
gratitude to my advisor, Alex Potts, whose thoughtful feedback and imagination were regular
Throughout the writing of this dissertation, and indeed far beyond that, I have been
sustained and made whole by the love of my parents Deborah and Robert Hartigan, my twin
brother Adam Hartigan, and my wife Radhika Bhat—it is to them most of all that I wish to
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
DEDICATION ii
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS iii
ABSTRACT xvi
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INTRODUCTION 1
CHAPTER
The Maquette and the Artist: Robert Irwin and John Chamberlain 75
Progressive Practices: Richard Fleischner and the Social Security Administration 103
III. An Idea Takes Hold: The Rapid Expansion of Public Sculpture Production 114
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Federally Funded Public Sculpture and the Development of a Field 117
Statutes on Statues: The Growth of State and Local Public Art Programs 138
IV. Sacrificial Materials: Conservation and the Afterlife of Public Sculptures 168
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CONCLUSION 213
FIGURES
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APPENDICES 371
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LIST OF FIGURES
FIGURE
0.1 Claes Oldenburg, Clothespin (Version Two) or Late Submission to the Chicago
Tribune Architecture Competition of 1922 (1967) 233
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0.2 John Mead Howells and Raymond Hood, Tribune Tower (1923-1925) 234
0.4 Claes Oldenburg, Spoonbridge for Chicago’s Navy Pier (n.d.) 236
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0.5 Claes Oldenburg, Clothespin (1976) 237
0.11 BBPR, Monument for the Victims of the Concentration Camps (1944-45) 243
0.12 Eduard Ludwig. Monument to the Victims of the Berlin Airlift (1951) 244
0.13 Reg Butler, Final Maquette for ‘The Unknown Political Prisoner’ (1951-2) 245
1.2 Film still of Flamingo’s unveiling, “Fine Art in Federal Buildings: The First Work” 247
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1.4 Film still of Flamingo’s unveiling, “Fine Art in Federal Buildings: The First Work” 249
1.5 Film still of Flamingo’s unveiling, “Fine Art in Federal Buildings: The First Work” 250
1.6 Film still of Flamingo’s unveiling, “Fine Art in Federal Buildings: The First Work” 251
1.7 Gerald Ford, Letter to General Services Administration (October 24, 1974) 252
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1.12 Alexander Calder, La Grande Vitesse (1969) 257
1.14 Plaque affixed below the model for La Grande Vitesse, Grand Rapids, MI (n.d.) 259
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1.15 Alexander Calder, Flamingo (1974) 260
1.24 Medium-scale Flamingo at Segre Iron Works, Waterbury, Conn. (n.d.) 269
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1.27 Flamingo for the Blind installed at U.S. Post Office, Chicago Loop (n.d.) 272
1.28 Flamingo for the Blind at The Art Institute of Chicago (n.d.) 273
1.29 Model of La Grande Vitesse (1975), with La Grande Vitesse in background 274
1.33 Arthur F. Sampson, GSA Administrator, with Flamingo maquette (c. 1973) 278
1.34 Maquette for Flamingo at Smithsonian American Art Museum (2013) 279
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1.35 Flamingo conservation photos, (n.d.) 280
1.42 GSA Federal Building pamphlet and Orientation materials (n.d.) 287
1.43 School of the Art Institute of Chicago promotional mailing (n.d.) 288
1.44 John Hughes, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Film Still (1986) 289
1.47 GSA newspaper scan, “Blind Enjoy Calder Genius at Hirshhorn,” (n.d.) 292
1.48 Flamingo for the Blind installed at U.S. Post Office, Chicago Loop (n.d.) 293
1.49 Flamingo for the Blind at Art Institute of Chicago (2014) 294
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2.2 Sylvia Stone, Installation Model for Dead Heat (1978) 295
2.7 Rudolph Heintze, Intermediate Installation Design for Locations (1976) 300
2.8 Rudolph Heintze, Intermediate Installation Design for Locations (1976) 301
2.9 Rudolph Heintze, Final Installation Design for Locations (1976) 302
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2.10 Athena Tacha, Maquette for Ripples (1979) 303
2.11 Robert Morris, Untitled (Installation Model for Akron Commission) (1978)
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2.14 Mark di Suvero, Preliminary Maquette for Motu Vignet (1974) 307
2.15 Mark di Suvero, Revised Maquette for Motu Vignet (1976) 308
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2.25 Robert Irwin, Untitled Maquette for 48 Shadow Planes (1980) and John
Chamberlain, Detroit Deliquescence Maquette (1979) 318
2.29 Robert Irwin, Untitled Maquette for 48 Shadow Planes (1980) 322
2.31 Robert Irwin, Untitled Maquette for 48 Shadow Planes (1980) 324
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2.32 Robert Irwin, Untitled Maquette for 48 Shadow Planes (1980) 325
2.35 The Trump Organization, Old Post Office Speculative Renderings (c. 2014) 328
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2.36 John Chamberlain and Patrick V. McNamara Federal Building (n.d.) 329
2.38 GSA, Plan for Patrick V. McNamara Federal Building (n.d.) 331
2.39 Installation View of Detroit Deliquescence at The College for Creative Studies,
Detroit, MI (2009) 332
2.45 John Chamberlain blueprint for base of Detroit Deliquescence. (c. 1979) 338
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2.47 Damage to Detroit Deliquescence and removal by McKay Lodge Fine Art
Conservation Laboratory Inc. (2005) 340
2.48 Colvin, Hammill, and Walter/ Register and Cummings, Winston-Salem Federal
Building Proposal (n.d.) 341
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2.54 Richard Fleischner, Arts Magazine Schematic (1981) 347
4.2 Judith Baca, The Great Wall of Los Angeles (The History of California),
Tujunga Wash (1976-2016) 356
4.3 Caspar Buberl, The Cavalryman, part of The Soldiers Monument (1878-79) 357
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4.7 Tilted Arc’s removal (March 15, 1989) 361
4.12 Tilted Arc Conservation by McKay Lodge, Arlington, VA (June 2009) 366
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5.2 Rachel Whiteread, Monument (2001) 369
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LIST OF TABLES
TABLE
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LIST OF APPENDICES
APPENDIX
1. National Endowment for the Arts’ Art in Public Places – Artwork Type by Year 371
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2. Public Art Programs Ranked 372
5. United States of America State Percent for Art Programs with Date Established 375
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6. General Services Administration’s Art in Architecture – Artwork Type by Year 376
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ABSTRACT
Since the mid-1960s, the pace and scale of public sculpture production in America has
increased exponentially. Notably, the purpose of these sculptures was not commemorative (as is
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the case for monuments and memorials), but rather for public benefit, broadly conceived. Within
two decades, public sculpture moved from a handful of privately-funded examples at major
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buildings to a veritable industry, thanks to large government-led public art programs, hundreds
of smaller public and private initiatives, and the widespread interest of artists and communities.
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Along the way, an infrastructure developed to maintain that work and ensure its continual
production. And yet, beyond a handful of well-known controversies, remarkably little is known
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about how this new field took shape, what motivated various artistic, institutional, and cultural
actors to participate, and what factors fueled and sustained its expansion. Existing scholarship
on public sculpture has taken two major paths: celebratory and uncritical surveys of existing
artworks, and studies that frame public sculpture as a site that has seen occasional engagement
with the major concerns of modern art, but also one that has been unable to maintain any sort of
critical or social import. This study reconciles those two approaches and offers an alternative. It
uses a combination of focused case studies, data analysis, and attention to structural growth in
order to understand how and why public sculpture has become a fixture of the modern American
urban landscape. It considers the rapid expansion of public sculpture production as both an
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artistic and cultural phenomenon—one that has seen sustained and widespread public and
institutional interest, but also one that hardly factors into current studies of modern art. This text
argues for a reconsideration of the significance of that work and a fuller understanding of the
relationship between the dramatic growth of public sculpture production and the larger project of
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xvii
INTRODUCTION
competition for their new headquarters, which would be, in their words, "the world's most
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beautiful office building." The prize was $100,000 and the competition elicited a flurry of
submissions—263 in total from twenty-three countries. Forty-five years later, long after the
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winning submission had been built, Claes Oldenburg submitted his proposal. Clothespin
(Version Two) (1967; fig. 0.1) was planned to capture the public's imagination just as the original
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competition had done. Oldenburg's design would replace and surpass the current Tribune Tower
(fig. 0.2) by featuring such amenities as a glassed-in restaurant located in the Pin's rod and
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spring, a series of massive wind tunnels “through which the wind [could] sound,” and an ornate
blue-glass entrance between the Pin's legs. Once Oldenburg’s proposal was constructed, then
the new building should not be overly disruptive for Chicagoans, because as he noted, the Pin
Competition of 1922 (Clothespin’s later title), the artist proposed a range of oversized
monuments for the city. This included a standing baseball bat at the corner of North Avenue and
Clark Street, "about the height of the former Plaza Hotel," that was designed to spin on its axis at
1
Barbara Haskell and Claes Oldenburg, Claes Oldenburg: Object into Monument (Pasadena:
Pasadena Art Museum, 1971), 66.
incredible speeds—so fast it would burn anyone who touched it, and (unfortunately) also fast
enough to appear as though it were standing perfectly still (fig. 0.3).2 A number of his proposals
took advantage of the space currently occupied by Navy Pier, including a suggestion for a large
spoon that would act as a bridge into Lake Michigan (fig. 0.4). The slight bend in the handle
would be large enough to accommodate sailboats, and pedestrians would be able to walk to the
spoon's bowl, which would be sitting on an island that resembled a dollop of chocolate—
Of course, none of these Proposed Monuments were ever actually built. However, that
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fact requires some qualification. These monuments were not built, but close variations on them
were constructed. A 45-foot version of Clothespin was built across from Philadelphia’s city hall
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in 1976 by that city’s “percent for art” program (fig. 0.5). A 96-foot Batcolumn (fig. 6) was
constructed by the United States General Services Administration in Chicago in 1975 (no
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spinning involved), and Spoonbridge and Cherry was completed in 1988 for the Walker Art
Center in Minneapolis (fig. 0.8). How, in the span of just nine years, did Oldenburg move from
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large-scale sculptures in major American cities? How did the environment for outdoor sculpture
change such that an artist who first mocked the whole project of creating large-scale permanent
public art later became one of that field’s first major players?
preoccupation with the status of that work during the 1960s. And his shift from proposing
fantastic and impossible artworks to a serious pursuit of large-scale outdoor sculpture speaks to
the sea change in public, artistic, and institutional interest in public sculpture during the 1960s
2
Barbara Rose, Claes Oldenburg (New York: Museum of Modern Art, 1970), 105.
and 1970s. A defining factor of this shift is also a key distinction between Oldenburg’s two
projects: the switch between framing that work as a monument or memorial to framing it as a
public sculpture. The difference is subtle, but important, for it has redefined the practice of
making outdoor sculpture since the post-war period. Memorials and monuments have a long
history and a straightforward and easily understood reason for existing—they are made to
document a shared history, important person, or event. Public sculptures on the other hand have
no such rationale and are instead built primarily for the purpose of existing as fine art. After the
Second World War, outdoor sculpture was slowly decoupled from its commemorative role, and
instead made for the benefit of a general audience.3 The exact definition of that benefit changes
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significantly over time, but the core belief that contemporary fine art belonged in public spaces
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and was a good and worthy use of public and private money and artistic effort is an idea that
began with a handful of examples in the 1950s, primarily from privately funded European artists,
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and then took root in America during the 1960s thanks to a series of dedicated programs,
widespread public interest, and the engagement of artists interested in pursuing work in the
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public realm.
Like Oldenburg’s Proposals, initial forays into public sculpture were often cloaked with
the mantel of monumentality or memorialization. Thus, for example, Barbara Hepworth’s Single
Form (1961-4; fig. 0.9), which stands outside of the United Nation’s building in New York,
appears to be an abstract free-standing plaza sculpture of the type that would become quite
3
That commemorative role is, of course, still alive and strong, and by some accounts the public
is more interested than ever in the creation of monuments and memorials—see, Erika Doss,
Memorial Mania (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2010). The creation of commemorative
artworks remains, however, a related but distinct field that relies on different funding
mechanisms and approval processes, is governed by different organizations, and typically draws
from a different pool of artists. And while the production of new monuments and memorials has
increased, as Doss suggests, public sculpture still far outpaces that work in terms of quantity,
distribution, and (often) public attention.
common in front of major buildings and corporate offices during the 1960s, even though it was,
deceased UN Secretary General and friend/ collector of Hepworth’s. There is nothing about the
object that immediately indicates its status as a memorial, but that status was precisely the
catalyst for the sculpture to be placed in such a high-profile location. It would be easy to
imagine the artwork simply existed as a plaza sculpture, and indeed a smaller iteration of the
exact same Hepworth sculpture satisfies precisely that role outside of a Johns Hopkins
University building in Washington, D.C. (fig. 0.10).4 The art historian, Sergiusz Michalski, has
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pegged the beginning of the trend in large-scale, metal, abstract plaza sculpture to a series of
abstract memorials that were created in the aftermath of World War Two. He argues the entire
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monument building project had lost a good deal of its efficacy and relevance with the end of the
war, and so artists and the public turned to a new formal language, abstraction, to give meaning
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to their commemorative artworks (monuments likewise aspired to “invisibility”).5 Michalski
lists the Milanese architecture collective, BBPR’s, Monument for the Victims of the
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Concentration Camps (1944-45; fig. 0.11) and Eduard Ludwig’s Monument to the Victims of the
Berlin Airlift (1951; fig. 0.12) as two of the first abstract monuments ever created.6 He and
others also credit the 1953 design competition for the Monument to the Unknown Political
4
The smaller iteration of Hepworth’s sculpture is in front of the Paul H. Nitze School of
Advanced International Studies, 1740 Massachusetts Ave NW, just south of D.C.’s Dupont
Circle.
5
Sergiusz Michalski, Public Monuments: Art in Political Bondage 1870-1997 (London:
Reaktion Books, 1998), 172.
6
Sergiusz Michalski, Public Monuments, 154-162. The second of these, Ludwig’s Monument in
Berlin, shares remarkable formal similarities with a more recent abstract memorial, that to
service members of the United States Air Force (located in Arlington, Virginia next to the
Pentagon), which also features a sculptural group of three arcs pointing skyward. The monument
in Berlin references the three routes planes took during the Berlin Airlift, while the Air Force
Memorial is meant to signify a “missing man” formation.
Prisoner as a key example of abstraction being put to use in the service of monumental
welcomed all forms of sculpture and made clear that abstract proposals would be considered
equally alongside more traditional fare, stating, “the organizers wish to emphasize that a
symbolic or a non-representational treatment of the subject will receive the same considerations
as a more naturalistic treatment.”7 The competition never resulted in a permanent artwork, but it
attracted a staggering 3,500 entries (in the form of small maquettes) from fifty-seven countries,
and the exhibition of finalists held at the Tate Gallery set an attendance record for a sculpture
show.8 The Unknown Political Prisoner design competition was a catalyst for sculptors to
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seriously consider the potential of placing modern sculpture in prominent public spaces, and
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some of the American finalists were, not incidentally, artists that would go on to define that
practice in later years (Alexander Calder, Herbert Ferber, Naum Gabo, Richard Lippold, and
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Theodore Roszak—artists who lived and worked in and outside of America, but nevertheless
submitted with the American delegation).9 Likewise, the competition captured the imagination
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of the general public and spurred discussion on the role of non-figurative art in public spaces–an
issue that was sensationalized by the destruction of the competition’s winning entry (an
abstracted wire and stone model by Reg Butler; fig. 0.13) by a young Hungarian refugee who
7
“International Sculpture Competition: ‘The Unkown Political Prisoner’’ entry form, MOMA
files, quoted in John Wetenhall, The Ascendency of Modern Public Sculpture in America, Ph.D.
Dissertation, Stanford University, 1987, 107n15.
8
John Wetenhall, The Ascendency of Modern Public Sculpture in America, 108.
9
Ibid, 109.
10
Michalski, Public Monuments, 156-162. See also Wetenhall, 108. Wetenhall refers to the man
responsible for destroying the maquette as an artist, and notes wide coverage in the popular
press. The Tate refers to the same man as a refugee. “Reg Butler, Final Maquette for the
Unknown Political Prisoner, 1951-2,” Tate Museum, accessed September 2016, last updated