In Memory Of Richard Serra(1938-2024) | Echoes In Steel
It was with profound surprise that we learned of Richard Serra’s death on March 26, at his home in Orient, at the age of 85. Just a week before, our pending interview with his studio was abruptly canceled, and discussions with his close associates were postponed. Serra had largely stepped back from public engagements following his monumental exhibition at the Gagosian, New York, in 2019. His last major commissioned work, completed in 2014 at the Qatar Brouq Nature Reserve, marked a significant moment in his career. Unfortunately, it seems that younger generations, especially Gen Z, might miss connecting with Serra’s deep legacy—a disconnection highlighted by the modest 140,000 posts under the hashtag #richardserra on social media. Had platforms like these been as prevalent in the 1980s, Serra’s influence on public discourse would have been unmistakable.
“Tilted Arc,” a 120-foot-long and 12-foot-high imposing curve made of four Cor-Ten steel plates, was commissioned by the General Services Administration (GSA)’s Art-in-Architecture program in 1979 and installed in 1981 at Federal Plaza in New York City. The plaza had remained empty for 10 years before Serra’s installation. This period coincided with the construction of the U.S. Court of International Trade and Jacob K. Javits Federal Office Building and included numerous panels and discussions regarding the selection of the next commissioned artist, through which Serra’s unique approach to site-specific works became evident. “Placing pieces in an urban context is not synonymous with an interest in a large audience,” Serra once explained. “The work I make does not allow for experience outside the conventions of sculpture as sculpture. My audience is necessarily very limited.”
Serra was seen as a fully capable, if not the best, candidate among sculptors at the time, and the commission proceeded under a meticulously transparent governmental process. Once its installation was completed, Serra was invited to the White House and congratulated by President Reagan on his “contribution to the cultural heritage of the United States.” This was not merely flattery, as “Tilted Arc” had truly achieved its intended purpose—fostering engagement, something sorely lacking in the wide-open plaza:
“Tilted Arc was constructed so as to engage the public in a dialogue that would enhance, both perceptually and conceptually, its relation to the entire plaza. The sculpture involved the viewer rationally and emotionally.... The work, through its location, height, length, horizontality and lean, grounds the viewer into the physical condition of the place. The viewer becomes aware of himself and of his movement through the plaza. As he moves, the sculpture changes. Contraction and expansion of the sculpture result from the viewer’s movement. Step by step the perception not only of the sculpture but of the environment changes.”
However, not long after its installation, “Tilted Arc” faced a barrage of criticism, accused of impeding the plaza’s functionality, encouraging vandalism, and prompting security concerns. The GSA initially addressed these complaints after receiving petitions from employees. But the controversy soon escalated into a politically charged dispute in 1984, manipulated from behind the scenes.
The hearing’s pinnacle was a three-day saga, masterminded by William Diamond, a Republican appointee, whose judges clearly shared his biases. In a memorable scene captured on video, Richard Serra delivered a fervent defense of “Tilted Arc.” With one hand rifling through notes and the other pounding the podium for emphasis, Serra’s presentation was charged with intensity. His array of emotions—from fierce determination to biting sarcasm—painted a vivid tableau as he countered claims that his sculpture had ruined the plaza’s social utility. This exchange, fraught with tension and defiance, became the hearing’s most unforgettable confrontation.
“In response of GSA’s request to build a permanent sculpture, I studied the Federal Plaza carefully and noticed that half of the plaza was given to a non-working fountain. And it was my concern not to interfere with this space, and the pathways leading to, from or around the fountain. I also ensured that the remaining half of the space was left open, for social functions of any kinds. It is false to say that the social function of the plaza is destroyed. It is false to say, that Mr. Diamond has said, that it’s impossible for the federal and public community to use the plaza.”
While speaking, he paused briefly and looked directly at someone in the audience, asserting,
“Also, the experience of art itself, is a social function. It is curious to me that people who are concerned with function can’t even pour water in their fountain!”
As Serra delivered his final, pointed words, laughter rolled through the audience, rippling with shared amusement and agreement lifting his gaze, he locked eyes with the crowd, his focus narrowing on someone—it must be Diamond—challenging him silently. Almost immediately, the room burst into a vigorous round of applause. Serra’s smile then spread slowly, a knowing, almost mischievous curl of his lips. With a flourish, he extended his hand in a theatrical “please” gesture, soaking in the wave of robust applause that filled the room, his eyes twinkling with defiance and triumph.
Fifty-eight people voiced their opposition to “Tilted Arc” at the hearing, criticizing it as “depressing and overbearing,” and blaming it for encouraging vandalism and turning the plaza into a place to avoid. One opponent proposed, “The arc should be removed and replaced with benches to transform this strange structure into a living plaza where people might want to stay awhile.”
Conversely, 122 individuals defended the artwork’s importance. Joan Mondale highlighted its potential to resonate with future generations, stating, “Sculpture which may be provocative to our eyes can be seen more clearly by those who come after us.” Art critic Rosalind Krauss pointed out the sculpture’s role in fostering a meaningful visual engagement: “It means for vision to be invested with a purpose, expecting to find an object, a direction, a goal.” Victor Ganz passionately argued for the preservation of challenging art, urging, “Let us have the courage to be elitist enough to be truly democratic. Let us fight for the sanctity of a contract freely negotiated between a citizen and his government.”
It seemed a hollow victory to keep the sculpture, possibly tainted by Diamond’s manipulation, with judges likely predisposed to order its removal. Rather than bridging understanding between the public and the artist, Diamond did the opposite. He disregarded Serra’s plea for an educational forum to “explain his art and its function to people in the Federal Office Buildings,” prompting uninformed criticism of Serra’s work and deepening the divide between the public and the art world. Voices emphatically stated, “The public is saying we don’t like it and we are not stupid and we are not Philistines and we don’t need some art historians and some curators to tell us we will like it. We don’t like it.”
Furthermore, the media played a critical role in promoting an unfairly biased narrative. After Diamond’s hearing, CBS News produced a segment on “Tilted Arc,” introduced with images of rusting, junked cars along the Hudson River and referred to as a “seventy-five-ton slab of steel.” Serra recounted his experience: “They told me they were going to support the concept of site-specificity by showing other site-specific works, so I spent a week helping them organize TV crews in Holland, France, Germany, and Japan. It seemed like a responsible project, and I was looking forward to the broadcast.” His disappointment was palpable when the piece aired: “For the first thirty seconds, the camera panned across abandoned, wrecked cars; cut to burnt-out buildings and urban rubbish; and then cut to Tilted Arc, with a voiceover stating: ‘New Yorkers have had enough of this.’ I’d been had once again. I should have known that television delivers people, and that all public opinion is manipulated opinion. The pragmatics of television do not admit rejoinders or resistance. There is no equal time.”
Raised on narratives of manipulation in media and government, our generation is familiar with the pursuit of agendas at any cost. “Tilted Arc” embodies more than a mere cultural ripple; it was a clash that challenged societal norms. Despite its removal, which Richard Serra described as the destruction of his work, and his legal defeat asserting the government’s breach of contract regarding the site-specificity of his art and his right to free speech, his fight highlighted crucial debates on public art and site-specific works.
It is profoundly ironic that Richard Serra, who redefined site-specific art with hundreds of permanent installations worldwide, saw his legacy challenged and forever altered by the loss of just one work—one that, if shared on social media today, would undoubtedly attract tourists and go viral. Imagine a scenario where, nestled between buildings where new citizens are officially welcomed by this country, there stands a massive, rusted wall that redirects passersby, prompting them to pause and reflect: “Why am I here, and where am I going?”
As we reflect on Serra’s indelible mark, we must view him as a multifaceted individual, aptly described by Frank Gehry: “I think you have to take Richard as Richard. He’s sometimes angry, jealous, critical, impatient, a perfectionist, demanding, difficult. But the people who love him say, ‘Oh, well, that’s Richard.’” These traits drove his relentless pursuit of artistic integrity and confrontation of authority. “Tilted Arc” exemplifies his commitment to challenging public perceptions and pushing the boundaries of public art. Celebrating Serra means acknowledging not just his artistic brilliance but also his significant role in reshaping contemporary thought and art practices.
Richard Serra, Kerouac, 2009. Paintstick on handmade paper. © Richard Serra/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York. Courtesy the artist and David Zwirner.
* Six Large Drawings, the last exhibition conceived by Richard Serra in his lifetime, is on view from April 9 to May 18, 2024, at David Zwirner London Gallery.
Words by Murphy Guo.