It’s not often that a major sculpture is commissioned for a city of barely 50,000 residents. You need an appropriate place to locate it. You need a benefactor to pay for it. And, perhaps most importantly, you need a sculptor who can envision such a work and then bring it to completion. Albert Paley’s Hallelujah located at The Clay Center for the Arts and Sciences is such a sculpture.
Charleston may be the state capitol, but it is a shrinking city. A few years ago, the city started taxing anyone who worked inside the city limits $2.00 per week to help shore up its declining tax revenue.
But Charleston does have pockets of “old money” as evidenced by The Clay Center. Named for the Clay family whose charitable foundation was the major donor, The Center cost over $115 million in 2003. The Hallelujah sculpture was donated by the McGee Foundation.
Albert Paley is well-known as one of the world’s leading metal artists. He works with a variety of metals. In this case, he chose weathering Cor-Ten steel for the major elements, stainless steel for the ribbons, and bronze (which will weather green) for the carousel segments.
Artist-blacksmith Jeff Fetty of Spencer is best-known to West Virginians for his sculpture garden of large metal flowers at Trace Fork Shopping Plaza near Charleston. Jeff has done commissions in Europe and around the United States,and he has known Albert Paley for many years. He took a class from Paley in Aachen, Germany, and he has visited Paley at his studio in Rochester, NY.
WV Public Broadcasting interviewed Jeff in mid-September and asked him what he thought of Paley’s Hallelujah.
“After being a Paley fan for so long, when I first heard that the Clay Center was getting a piece of Albert’s work, I was in disbelief, but very pleased when I heard that it was a reality,” Fetty said. “I just feel that Charleston and West Virginia are very privileged and fortunate to have his work in our lives, and I applaud those responsible for this gift.”
As an artist, Jeff is right in his assessment of Paley’s work. Like owning a Picasso, just having a Paley lends credibility to The Clay Center’s status in the art world.
People have taken notice of Hallelujah, and their comments are predictable, yet intriguing. As you would expect, numerous people have called it “Junk”, and that is because the major component is rusted steel. While bronze and copper are downright beautiful when they oxidize, most people consider steel ready for the junkyard when it rusts.
Those who admire abstract art appreciate Hallelujah simply because it is abstract art. They can enjoy the work because they aren’t looking for a hidden message.
Joe Mullins, the Charleston sculptor who designed the Veterans Memorial on the Capitol grounds, once told me that, in simplest terms, a necktie is abstract art. He’s right about that, and we don’t give much thought about the “message” of a necktie.
According the WVPB report, Hallelujah also has been described as a collection of drafting tools, a rocket ship, and something you’d see at Disney World.
Hallelujah will get many such critiques because it is in a prime location between Lee and Washington streets, two of Charleston’s busiest downtown thoroughfares. Because it is outdoors, Hallelujah will be the only Clay Center exhibit that thousands, or maybe millions, of people will ever see.
Or, it may be the magnet that draws in thousands of people who otherwise would never have visited the center. At 64 feet tall and weighing nearly 100 tons, nobody is going to miss seeing this landmark.
The Clay Center was an ambitious undertaking, and it has struggled to attract visitors and generate revenue. This year, the county commission voted to give the Center $100,000.00 to subsidize visits by the county’s school children. The money comes from the county’s share of gambling revenue at a nearby dog racetrack.
Hallelujah could be the event that changes the center’s fortunes. Or, it could be the exclamation point for a project that greatly overreached given West Virginia’s location and demographics.
Hallelujah was fabricated in New York, assembled there, then dismantled, and re-assembled in Charleston. If The Clay Center ever fails for lack of old money, Hallelujah can always be sold and moved.
Hallelujah’s intrigue lies in its ability to change color over the next decade or two. What we see today will disappear by next autumn as the bronze and Cor-Ten steel oxidize. And what we see in the next year after that will change again. Much like our hardwood forests when the leaves turn color, you’ll never see the same Hallelujah twice.
The Charleston Gazette offered an online poll to capture the community’s opinion of the sculpture. Over 1,700 people voted. This is a promising response rate because it indicates community awareness.
Half of those voting had yet to form a critical opinion. Of the remaining half, those who “hated it” outnumbered those who “loved it” by a 2:1 ratio. In time, more of the undecided will favor the work than oppose it. That’s just human nature.
The opinion poll also indicates that the sculpture has done its job as a work of art. First, the community knows it’s there, and second, people are willing to study it before forming an opinion.
Albert Paley was most gracious when he attended the dedication on October 6th. When asked what the sculpture represented, he essentially said that would be in the eye of the beholder. “It is what it is.” is how he characterized his work. Mr. Paley should be congratulated for his humility as well as his talent.
