Paul Day’s sculpture is big (over 29 feet tall). It’s garish (its hugeness doesn’t help). But let’s talk about public art. Give anyone anywhere anytime a chance to criticize art, and they will. I was at the Tate Britain yesterday, and there was some absolute schlock–terrible, miserable, ugly, huge misshapen blobs of grossness. But it is art. It is expression. It is interpretation of dreams and life and experience.
I didn’t notice anybody meeting at The Meeting Place statue . . . just some curious families and a wandering American . . . but small-scale friezes surrounding the huge couple were quite interesting. Day was forced to take out the one frieze depicting a person falling onto the tracks in front of a train driven by the Grim Reaper. I get that. But the other scenes in waiting rooms, building the rails, etc., were glorious.
The Meeting Place by Paul Day
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