Lexington, KY - Our first public art bus shelter radiates with a sort of mesmerizing green glow, but if you have not seen it, it might be because the new shelter is inconspicuously situated along Versailles Road just outside of town. My concern is for those who have not seen the light and may not, metaphorically speaking, be able to.
During a recent panel discussion hosted by the University of Kentucky and the Lexington Art League, I realized that projects like our new public art bus shelter do far more to advance the visual arts dialogue than do these credential-laden events intended to promote discussion.
While the impetus for this impaneled affair still evades me, the topic was "Regionalism in Art," which I thought might turn into a productive conversation with professionals in the field of visual arts from Knoxville, Louisville, Indianapolis, and Cincinnati.
My mistake was in thinking that we were communing with a common knowledge of the last four or so years of conversations in Lexington that have helped grow our socioeconomic and political spheres toward a better understanding of the role art must play in this place. It was through that lens that I thought Lexington was now ready to contribute in some meaningful way to a regional art scene.
After nearly two hours of introductions and unconvincing replies to questions like: "What are the positives of this place?", I realized that for some, this place is only viable as it relates to a larger region where real content and substance thrive. The general disregard for certain local conditions that must be met prior to engaging anything "regional" was unnerving.
The Briggs Theater in the Fine Arts Building closed in on me, and as my frustration grew, I found refuge in the green glow of the solar-powered shelter, which was dedicated at the beginning of that same week.
An article that I had written for Business Lexington in May of 2007 sprang to mind. It was titled "Art-in-Motion Gets the Ball Rolling." Specifically, I recalled the fact that one single, profound conversation motivated Yvette Hurt to form a grassroots effort and take action. Listening with one ear, I still could not hear any conversation from my seat in the theater.
For years members of the non-profit known as Art in Motion have initiated a dialogue that nurtured relationships with a wide range of constituents, including the LFUCG Corridors Committee, LexArts, The Knight Foundation, and the local businesses of Voltaic Solar, Q Lighting, EC Mathews, O'Nan Glass, Jim McKay Architects, and Ale-8-One. As a result, these members of our community helped young architect and designer Aaron Scales bring his idea to life.
According to Scales, his idea for Bottlestop originated when he first encountered the site and unfortunately the trash, particularly empty bottles, strewn along the roadway. His idea matured into a green shelter using solar lighting and recycled bottles. Today, Bottlestop is for Scales an "awareness-building ambassador" for our city, dedicated to a call being echoed by cities across the globe: consume less, preserve more.
Bottlestop has built and continues to build awareness far beyond the green movement. It has provoked vital and necessary conversation. From the panel, I heard something markedly profound: that art should spark conversation, and good art should move that conversation to communion.
With this first new public art bus shelter, Art in Motion has done just that. It, along with many other projects brought to fruition in the past few years, has helped us identify who we are and what we value. It has encouraged institutional support on many levels. It has, in its pursuit of two additional shelters, encouraged more creative thinking, and perhaps most importantly, this first shelter has grown the pool of local economic resources to include more businesses.
Still hearing the same statements from the panel, my head grew heavier and I was back at the dedication. The communion of voices was there, in the shelter, laughing and talking. They looked up to greet the well-credentialed arts professional who sat down and asked precisely what was being asked in the panel discussion: "But what is this place? I mean, what are the positives to this particular geographic place?"
One of the women in the shelter turned to him with a look of concern and said, "You mean this place, right here and now, where we are sitting together?"
"Yes, that is what I am asking," he replied.
"Well," she stated, quite sure of herself, "The most positive thing about this particular place, here and now, is that if you, along with the rest of us, stay long enough, you will catch the bus."