Decade of City-Mandated Art Produces Dismal Oeuvre

Envisioning a Los Angeles just a bit more like Florence, Italy, city officials passed a landmark ordinance a decade ago forcing developers to spend 1% above the cost of their large building projects on art.

Going beyond typical public art projects for government buildings, Percent for Art promised that artworks would bloom throughout the city--at offices, warehouses, shopping centers and other sites.

Although developers had the option of paying into a city arts fund, many chose to commission artworks, often with what officials acknowledge to be woeful results. They include:

* A giant fiberglass snake at a Sun Valley recycling yard.

* A Home Depot sign on the Westside.

* A painting of a hard-hatted Magic Johnson in the lobby of his Crenshaw district theaters.

* A carved marble profile of the 14th-century Italian poet Dante Alighieri atop a building near Dodger Stadium.

* A mosaic depicting a scene from “E.T.” in Encino.

* A mini-mall sign pointing the way to Food4Less, AutoZone and Sally’s Beauty Supply in Van Nuys.

* A room divider in an Acapulco chain restaurant in Reseda.

The artworks have been such a disappointment that the city’s Cultural Affairs Department has quietly begun steering developers toward donations to art programs and away from so-called hard art, such as paintings or sculpture.

“Not a lot of the work has been of the highest quality,” said Councilman Joel Wachs, who was instrumental in getting the program approved. Wachs, a noted art collector, could name only one piece created under the program--and that, he allowed, because he recently had attended its unveiling.

Cultural affairs administrator Mark Johnstone, who oversees Percent for Art, is more blunt in his assessment. He lives near the Home Depot on Jefferson Boulevard in Playa del Rey, the one with a driveway sign set into cast concrete designed by a sculptor.

“Every time I turn into that driveway,” he said, “I grit my teeth.”

Unexpected Side Effect

Over the last 30 years, numerous cities have adopted Percent for Art programs for public building projects--police stations, schools, city halls--with varying results.

“There has been some good work to come out of these programs,” said Mary Beebe, director of the highly regarded Stuart collection of public art at UC San Diego. “But so much of it has been mediocre, forgettable.”

It also has produced an unexpected side effect, she said.

“We have a whole bunch of artists who have grown up schooled in this kind of public art. You can take classes now in how to handle bureaucracy, apply for grants.”

Los Angeles’ Percent for Art program was part of a comprehensive arts package approved by the City Council to take effect in 1989. The package also included creation of the Cultural Affairs Department, a hotel bed tax to finance arts endeavors, and other measures. Wachs says the package has largely succeeded in creating and supporting community-based arts programs.

Percent for Art garnered the most attention, however, because it boldly expanded the boundaries, going beyond government or redevelopment projects to include any commercial development with a budget of more than $500,000.

Some conservatives criticized the private component, calling it essentially an additional tax on developers.

“I just think that it’s improper for government to be involved in that way in art,” said Virginia Postrel, editor of Reason magazine.

Los Angeles’ ordinance allows commercial developers to satisfy their art requirement by paying the assessment directly into a city arts fund, which Wachs characterizes as being particularly valuable in supporting worthwhile programs. Many developers take this route, especially if the tab amounts to only a few thousand dollars.

But in the early years, most of the major private developers commissioned artworks. About $2.5 million went toward artworks at about 65 private developments, but even daily visitors often don’t realize that art was in their midst.

Mohammed Yousri, manager of the Acapulco in Reseda, had no idea his restaurant was a veritable art gallery, with nine pieces done under the program, according to city records. In addition to the room divider, the works include painted wood columns, an abstract metal sculpture and two paintings of Mexican seaside scenes.

“Let’s go look for them,” he said, turning toward the dining room crammed with decorative pottery, paintings and artifacts.

Developer and arts patron Robert Maguire said he had hoped that his fellow developers would embrace the program and get personally involved as enthusiastic, if involuntary, arts patrons.

“We wanted them to be committed to directing how their 1% was used,” said Maguire, who headed the task force that recommended the program to the City Council.

In a recent interview, Maguire was unable to name even one artwork completed under the program. He expressed disappointment in the quality of the art, saying he had hoped that it would be reminiscent of the Depression-era Works Progress Administration.

The WPA sent artists to create murals, sculptures and mosaics for public buildings nationwide, and is now viewed as a groundbreaking success, although some of its works were controversial.

To Maguire, who is known to talk about art with nearly the same fervor as he does his giant building projects (including Playa Vista, the Library Tower and the restoration of Central Library), controversy is a sign that a public arts program is vibrant. “It’s part of the turf,” he said. “I think you have to push.”

But indifference has proved a far more pressing problem than controversy.

Many developers simply hired arts consultants to deal with the requirement. Laddie John Dill, a well-known Los Angeles artist, said he got the Home Depot sign commission, and a similar project in Chatsworth, without any contact with company officials. The results, he acknowledged, are not among his major pieces.

“They were more like design projects,” said Dill, who was not involved in constructing either piece. “I worked through an art agent, the same one for both projects. He came to me and told me what the developer was doing, and I designed something.”

Beebe, of UC San Diego, said Percent for Art-type programs need strong direction to succeed. “Someone has to have the ability to say ‘No, this is not a good piece of work,’ ” she said. “And that person has to stand behind pieces that are good.”

Cultural Affairs has the option of rejecting developers’ art proposals, but rarely does, Johnstone said.

“It’s their money, they are buying it,” he said. “We set up guidelines, but they have a lot of room to do what they want.”

One work has established itself as a landmark. The advertising agency TBWA/Chiat/Day commissioned noted Swedish artist Claes Oldenburg and his wife, Coosje van Bruggen, to create a four-story sculpture of binoculars in 1991 for the entryway of its new offices in Venice. The building was designed by Frank Gehry, L.A’s most prominent architect.

“That’s a case where you had a client and an architect who embraced the spirit of a Percent for Art program,” said Richard Andrews, a museum director at the University of Washington in Seattle who formerly headed the National Endowment for the Arts public art program.

The ad agency has since moved on, but last year the city’s Cultural Heritage Commission named the blue binocs an official landmark.

Strict Regulations for Artwork

While the city’s Percent for Art program for private developers is largely laissez faire, its public building counterpart imposes strict regulations on the approval of an artwork.

For the most part, artworks done for the public segment of the program (about $1.7 million in public funds have been spent on these works at about 30 sites) tend to be more prominently displayed than their private counterparts, and thus more likely to be recognized as artworks. But not always.

Artist Jacqueline Dreager, whose fiberglass snake sits mid-slither just inside the gates of the Truesdale Recycling & Disposal Center in Sun Valley, told a panel choosing the commission that her proposal was meant as a whimsical reminder of a time when the San Fernando Valley was less developed.

“I used to collect snakes when I was a kid,” said Dreager, who grew up in the Valley. “I wanted to pick a snake that was indigenous to the area. I thought that would be fun to do.”

And her work echoes the mission of the facility. “I used recycled materials,” she said. “The snake frame was made from wire they had in one of their bins.”

There is no sign at the site identifying the artwork, however, let alone explaining the artist’s intent. And the snake has been allowed to deteriorate; large sections of its painted skin have worn away.

At least it’s still there. Many of the works listed in the city’s “Public Art Program” brochure are missing.

“With a tiny staff,” Johnstone said, “it’s hard to know exactly what happened with all these projects.”

Some works listed in the brochure were never done at all. Two of the addresses in the arts booklet, for Roscoe Self Storage in North Hills and a Holy Cross medical office building in Granada Hills, are empty lots.

With the private program faltering, Johnstone, a former art curator who came to Cultural Affairs in 1995, began urging developers to fund neighborhood projects, such as school field trips to museums, art fairs and painting workshops, instead of artworks.

“I tell developers, you can get a lot more, immediate bang for your buck by supporting a nonprofit entity in your community,” Johnstone said. “The company benefits in terms of public relations, and it gives something to the community.”

For example, 20th Century Fox sponsored a storytelling program in elementary schools, while Pep Boys backed neighborhood arts fairs and commissioned an artist to add color to the exteriors of some drab school buildings.

Maguire called the new direction “a good use of the money,” but added that he hopes a way can be found to get more developers to include vibrant, cutting-edge art in their plans.

“These things kind of evolve,” he said. “They aren’t perfect right at the outset.”