Speech
to the Grants Pass City Council, 2/1/12
Mayor Murphy asked a very good question in the latest article
in the Grants Pass Daily Courier
about the endangered public art in our outrageously over-priced bus stop
project: “What is public art worth in terms of tourism, livability and
image? That is a valid question
–especially when it can be had with zero local money.”
Without cleanliness and order, I
submit, public art isn’t worth much. It
is like an unkempt woman putting on makeup and jewelry without putting on clean
clothes and combing her hair first.
When I first lived here for a couple
of years in the mid-eighties, we didn’t have any public art that I can recall,
apart from “The Dancer” at RCC, but I thought this was a beautiful town,
because it was neat and clean, remarkably so for the West. I don’t recall litter lying everywhere. The lawns were mostly green and mowed, though
some people, including me, began to let them go dry to save money and work, not
realizing the work it would bring us later in weeds. Weeds there were, but not many, and not as
obnoxious, apart from blackberries.
Several weeds that we are infested with now—crabgrass, Bermuda grass,
puncture vine, and bitter cress—were non-existent then. Star thistle was a noxious weed we heard
about but did not see; it was not all over town.
Grants Pass was considered rather
Philistine in those days; we went on art field trips to Eugene. G Street had bars, not art galleries; we had
no First Friday Art Night. But retirees
were coming here as tourists, finding the town beautiful, and buying houses, as
my parents did. It reminded me of
Goshen, Indiana, Dad’s home town.
They say that you can never go home
again. In 1999, I came back to a
different town than I had left in ’87.
There were weeds everywhere that I’d never seen before, including that
crazy grass all over town that turned out to be crabgrass. The cops had acquired a bad reputation
regarding excessive traffic patrol and over-patrolling public events. Fine bark was the City’s choice for mulch,
where they had been pushing leaf mulch in the 80’s. And as I practiced my new profession of
gardening, I became sensitized to the litter that seems to have become worse every
year over the last decade.
Grants
Pass was a work of art in itself when I first lived here, like a clean,
beautiful building without excessive decoration. Now, it’s like a messy, dirty house, cluttered with cute kitsch. We are desperately decorating disorder.
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