| Issue #43, February 2, 2007 |
When Art Attacks
God Help and Protect Us From the Sculptures on the Lawns Here
By Dan Rattiner
East Hampton has a reputation of being far tougher on developers than Southampton. But as far as sculptors and artists are concerned — East Hampton is tougher on them too.
In Southampton, a painter or sculptor can do his or her work in a studio on his property that is separate from his residence. In East Hampton, they make it very hard to do that. You can have a separate studio, but about twice a year, you can expect the art inspectors to come by. You better be sure you are in there, doing your work. Or they will pull your permit.
As far as displaying sculpture outdoors is concerned, once again East Hampton lags way behind. All through Southampton Town you’ll find large sculptures on the front lawns of private homes and commercial buildings. There’s one on the lawn of the building next to the Omni on County Road 39 in Southampton. There’s a whole lot on the Nova’s Ark property on Millstone Road at what used to be the Tiska Farm. Around the corner, for fifteen years, there were a dozen sculptures by Warren Padula along the long dirt driveway leading up to the farmhouse at the Vanderveer potato farm. Some remain. Leonard Riggio, who is the Chairman of the Board of Barnes and Noble, has a beautiful wavy metal sculpture by Richard Serra on his front lawn on Ocean Road in Bridgehampton, and right on Main Street in that town, there’s a sculpture on the front lawn at Dan’s Papers by Jeffery Parsons and nobody’s ever said anything but that they like it. There’s more sculpture on the highway leading west from our offices in front of the old Wendy’s Fabric Building in Water Mill and there’s a whole sculpture garden full of huge metallic pieces down on Amy’s Lane in Sagaponack, curated and owned by Lou Meisel. All of this is in Southampton Town.
In East Hampton, it’s another story entirely. You’d think you could burn out your eyes from looking at sculptures too long.
About fifteen years ago, when Tony Bullock was Supervisor of that town, he allowed some of our local sculptors to make a display on the horseshoe driveway leading up to Town Hall. People protested — one of them wrote a letter to the editor of the local paper saying he was a taxpayer and didn’t see how the town could be allowed to FORCE him to see sculptures every time he went to that place to pick up his fishing license — and the sculptures came down.
In the village, on Main Street, Guild Hall put a single sculpture, a beautiful six-foot metal cube by Bernard (Tony) Rosenthal, on the front lawn and it took practically an act of Congress to allow them to keep it there. They practically ran Morgan Rank, an art dealer, out of town when he put up a wooden sculpture atop a flagpole next to his store on Newtown Lane, and a sculptor named Sasson Soffer sold some land to the town cheap with the proviso that on a certain part of it he be permitted to display his work in perpetuity and you’d have thought he was putting in an oil refinery or something.
Now EECO Farm, a group running an organic farm on Town leased land on Long Lane has petitioned the town, their landlord, to allow them to place a magnificent sculpture on the property, which a wealthy patron has offered to give them. It’s a metal portrayal of a tractor.
“It’s a farm! It’s a farm!” said Councilman Mansir, voicing her strong objection to the possibility of this dastardly act.
“Where does it stop?” Supervisor McGintee asked.
The board voted down the request.
Apparently, the only time you’re allowed to put a work of your sculpture on the grass anywhere in East Hampton Town is after you’re dead and you’re lying under it. There are wonderful sculptural displays created by various artists up at Green River Cemetery on Old Accabonac Road in Springs, and you’re welcome to drive or walk in and go slowly around the gravel horseshoe that serves as a road there.
These sculptures are tombstones and the makers of them are beyond the reach of the East Hampton Town Board. And a good thing too, if you ask me.
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