A few days before the LePage Maine public mural uproar ensued, I toured the Intermuseum Conservation Association in order to research this article for Fresh Water.
The Snake Dancer
The ICA conserves and restores art and notable objects. Sounds staid, but that is hopelessly inaccurate. Walking among the conservators and their work was nothing short of magical.
From the edges of the Civil War
Every item in the building entranced me. And when the conservators chimed in with the stories behind the objects, everything in this mystical place came alive.
When my buddy Jane Hammond displayed a Civil War cloak she's restoring, carefully pointing out the frayed knit edges, I felt as if the woman who originally knit it and her war-torn soldier were standing right behind us.
If the cloak haunted me, the salvaged public murals simply took my breath away.
Just watch as the ICA clan unfurls this to-be-restored Louis Grebenak piece. The WPA funded this work and many others for installation at a (now-demolished) public housing project here in Cleveland.
Look at the giant hand, the muscled forearms. I love this thing--love love love it. The full view starts at about 2:04.
Yo Lou? Baby, I'm receiving your broadcast loud and clear.
Every day, the staff of ICA makes a beautiful contribution to the human experience. In the instance of vintage public art, it's about everyone from the WPA clerk who drew up Grebenak's paycheck some 75 years ago to the people who will pass this mural every day when it's fully restored and installed at the new Cuyahoga Metropolitan Housing Authority administration building.
This is about all of us, whether you abhor or detest the impetus of the murals or their content. This is who we were and who we are. When a community comes together to celebrate that, it shapes who we will be.
Hey Governor LePage? Lou Grebenak and I think you're a big turd.
Yeah, yeah.
I guess I'll stay here in Cleveland and hang out with the good guys.
