Just the other day, I was commenting to a friend that I thought it was really great that Edinburgh doesn’t get all tarted-up for Christmas. There are some tasteful strings of lights here and there, a few special Christmas markets have opened up, and there’s a little County Fair-type grouping of rides for the kids near the Scott Monument, but no grotesque displays. There are no animatronic nativity scenes. No one decided to put a big red bow on the Castle. This understated approach to the holiday season sits very well with me, and I walk around with a smile while I think to myself “Edinburgh is a real class act of a city”.
But soon dear Auld Reekie is going to lose its head. An invasion is due to take place that is worse than bows on castles or an animatronic Baby Jesus. Succumbing to the same folly that has attacked major cities across North America, soon Edinburgh too will play host to its very own Cow Parade.
Artists are invited to decorate fiberglass models of cows, which will be placed throughout the city. If the efforts of other cities are any indication (I witnessed the travesty that was “Moose In The City” in Toronto), the finished cows will be mostly eyesores and will be vandalized in short order.
Instead of commissioning new, challenging public art, Cow Parade projects and their variants allow those instigating such projects to imagine they are supporting culture, when they are really producing public-art-by-numbers.
The Cow Parade website says: “While the cow sculptures remain the same, each city encourages creative individuals to explore the cow canvas – challenged by the artwork from past events, inspired by the cultural influences of their respective cities, and moved by their own interpretation of the cow as an art object.”
…interpretation of the cow as an art object? I’ve really heard it all, now. I suppose Cow Parade is supposed to be art “for the people”, since these objects are not abstract arrangements of steel and stone unveiled in a flurry of artspeak. But again basing my reaction on my experience with Moose in The City, most people, (art-friendly and art-indifferent people alike) will simply view them with slight bemusement or irritation, seeing them as sculptural red herrings instead of a convincing demonstration that public art is a good thing. A few tourists may take some snaps of the decorated cows, but its the residents who have to live with them. I’ll take steel, stone and artspeak any day over a herd of fiberglass bovines with varying paint jobs. But the best I can hope for in this situation is that some deserving artists take the £750 commissioning fee and do their best with such an awkward canvas, that the cows are quickly auctioned off for charity, and that the next public art project in Edinburgh is a little more interesting.
4 replies on “The Tackification of Edinburgh”
take a cow MK – take it and make it your own.
750 pounds can’t be all bad. Swallow your pride and make that cow say all you never could about bad cow art..
and write more (in your blog) you ole’ poop.
Make no mistake, whether it is cows, pigs, ears of corn, cars or any of the various other versions I’ve seen, this event is about fundraising. Here is a link to a variation on the theme with a twist:
http://www.lexarts.org/pubart_doors.php
There is nothing wrong with fundraising. This project is the civic equivalent of making a donation and getting a sticker, poppy, coloured wristband, etc. with the fibreglass thingies being the signifiers of conspicuous consumption. The mistake is thinking that it is anything more than creativity in public places.
There’s nothing wrong with fundraising, that’s true. And you’re totally right, John, at bottom that’s what these things are all about. But in the meantime, projects like these are going to uglify each city they touch! Plus the objects aren’t much value if they get vandalized before they can be auctioned off. I’m all for corralling the cows in an airplane hangar somewhere and having a line of limos pull up and the rich people buy them and everyone feels good, the charity makes money, artists get paid, and the city stays beautiful. I’m just a grumpy old curmudgeon, though.
there’s only one course of action available. take inspiration from good ol’ agrarian revolutions, get out there, and start cow-tipping.