Just what does "regionally-based" art look like in the era of globalization?
The answer to that question has a lot to do with both art and economics, among other things. One of the first questions to ask is: Where are we now?
Two hundred years of progressively modernizing technology have figuratively shrunk the size of the globe quite dramatically. People, goods, and information now circulate more freely than at any time in human history. We know (and can often appreciate) much, much more about other people and cultures than ever before.
Here's where it gets tricky: One inevitable side effect of all this cultural contact is the global redistribution of wealth and power, spawning a crisis mentality wherever these key commodities are being "lost," and generating an ever more frantic grasp on whatever arenas of influence seem to remain.
So we've lost most of our traditional industries—steel, lumber, manufacturing, and so on—to other countries around the globe, reducing large segments of the American population to dead-end service jobs, instead of the reasonably secure, productive (and even comfortable) working-class occupations they were once assured.
The tides of change wash regularly up and down the shores of the Hudson River: One day, IBM decides to close down most of its operations, and years later, the region's depressed real estate prices shoot through the roof as a result of demand for the "country" homes of New Yorkers unnerved by 9/11.
The Native Americans must have recognized something unique in the river—even before the advent of the white man, they called it Muhheakantuck, "the river that flows both ways." While this name originally referred to the estuarial tides of the Hudson (which bring traces of salt water from the Atlantic as far north as Poughkeepsie), it seems oddly apt as a way of describing the economic realities of the towns along the river today.
 Before and after views of the Yonkers Sculpture Meadow. Photo by Richard Halevy. |
Long involved with organizations and projects that seek to use art as a catalyst for reviving the urban landscape, the MTA commission was the capstone of a major renovation of the Yonkers Metro North railroad station, a key element in bringing public space back to life in that city. The piece recalls the pre-settlement past of Yonkers, when the river met a series of rock cliffs, roughly in the location of today's railway viaduct. Connecting past and present, Segal's expressively carved forms allow passing light and varied atmospheric conditions to change its appearance from day to day, even moment to moment—a state of flux that neatly captures the impress of human activity on the region itself.
According to Segal, "Our goal is to get people to think about the Hudson River, its relationship to the communities of the Hudson Valley, and how to improve the quality-of-life issues through the use of public art."
Now, economically speaking, the train station itself speaks volumes to the two-way flow of people and money along the river. In the Mid-Hudson region, there's an inevitable tension between the indigenous and the sub/ex-urban character of life, with some folks working (and usually struggling) to make a go of things within the local economy, and those who've managed to shuttle back and forth to the city tapping the resources there to support a life up here.
The farther upriver you go, the fewer commuters—who run back and forth roughly in proportion to the salt water found in the river. Ironically, perhaps, commuter numbers drop off significantly (just like the brine) at Poughkeepsie as well—mostly because it serves as the terminus for the Metro North line.
The Vassar exhibition travels the shores of the Hudson through photographic timelines of Yonkers (by Segal) and Poughkeepsie (by Franc Palaia), charting the effects of public art projects on the course of redevelopment in each of these waterfront cities. These revitalization projects are part of a much larger process going on in the valley, and process is at the core of the exhibition as well.
Five large sections of Segal's Yonkers work, models for the enormous final piece, emphasize the development of this important example of public art, and are the centerpiece of the show. In addition, three of four short films on view by Jessica Jacobson, a Vassar senior, focus on the fabrication and installation of Segal's monumental sculpture, and a fourth looks at the role of art in the emerging redevelopment of Poughkeepsie.
Of course, all the recent interest in waterfront development carries with it danger as well as opportunity. As the current heated debate over "The Landing at Kingston" (ironically the brainchild of a Yonkers-based developer) demonstrates, not all building projects are necessarily beneficial to a community.
In the interests of advancing the public dialogue on this pressing topic, there will be a panel discussion at Vassar on March 7, featuring Poughkeepsie Mayor Nancy Cozean; artists Segal, Palaia, and Jacobson; Scenic Hudson's Ray Curran; architect Stephan Aronson; and Peter Leonard, Vassar's Director of Field Work. With luck, attendees may be treated to a spirited and honest discussion of the economics of development and urban revitalization, one in which the various interests concerned can help strike a balance between the contending realities of our region, commuter versus local, big money versus micro-investment, in an effort to find our way to an improved quality of life that avoids the cookie-cutter suburbanism of Long Island, and instead maintains a healthy respect for the particular textures of space, place, and the environment that make the Mid-Hudson Valley such a special place to live.