On a breezy Saturday in March, the plaza outside the Porter Square T station was alive with people eager for a taste of spring.
There were sisters sharing a weekend ritual of a run, followed by bagels from Bagelsaurus. A man enjoying a cigarette and a mystery novel. A woman selling flowers out of a bucket.
Animating the square was the playful chatter of four toddlers curious about the “windmill” in the sky that looked like an ice cream cone.
Few others looked up to admire a sculpture that had been standing there for 40 years.
When the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority extended the Red Line from Harvard Square to Alewife in 1985, the project was considered a milestone for the nation’s first public transit system. To herald this achievement, the MBTA created the Arts on the Line program to commission 20 works of contemporary art at its new stations. The project totaled $695,000 – one half of one percent of the construction budget – and drew from the MBTA’s budget, as well as federal sources like the U.S. Department of Transportation, the Urban Mass Transportation Administration (now the Federal Transit Administration) and the National Endowment for the Arts.
“… the MBTA is once again a national pioneer – this time in bringing contemporary, permanent works of arts into subway settings,” wrote the MBTA in a 1985 pamphlet for the project. “… This collection was not acquired to hang in a gallery, museum or private home, but was created specifically for these subway stations and the public that uses them.”
Porter Square was no exception. As T passengers ascended from the system’s deepest station, they were charmed by bronze gloves that appeared to tumble down the escalator. Emerging from the station, they were greeted by an uplifting white aluminum and mylar mobile that caught the light through the atrium windows. Outside were sculptures made of undulating granite and sliced boulders. Towering above it all was “Gift of the Wind,” a 46-foot steel sculpture with vibrant red wings that rotated with the breeze.
Its creator, Susumu Shingu, told Cambridge Day that his kinetic sculpture was influenced by the energy and mystery of the wind. He wanted to make the invisible, visible.
At the time, the MBTA boasted the largest collection of art by a public transit authority in the United States and it inspired similar programs in other U.S. cities. Since then, the T has accumulated more than 100 works across its system.
But, less than a decade after installation, many pieces in the MBTA’s original Red Line collection had fallen into disrepair. At Porter Square, when a lead weight fell off the atrium mobile in 1993, it was taken down and not repaired or replaced. Many of the bronze gloves on the escalator have disappeared. The concrete benches near the outdoor sculptures have buckled and begun collapsing.
“Gift of the Wind” is perhaps the MBTA’s most prominent artwork. While its arms still move, they have faded into a dull pink that borders on gray.
The sculptor, now 88, says he was “proud to participate in a movement of public art,” when each new T station was imbued with its own character. Shingu designed “Gift of the Wind” while he was living in Cambridge and teaching at Harvard University in the ‘80s. He now lives in Aimoto, Japan.
He says he last laid eyes on the kinetic sculpture “five or six” years ago and noticed that it had faded in color. At the time, he said it had “already passed the moment for maintenance. Now, it’s really necessary. It’s dangerous for the people who pass by.”
“Repainting it is necessary, but more importantly, the ball bearings and rotating parts need to be taken down and checked,” he said. “Many times we [asked] for the maintenance of that sculpture from the MBTA. But they didn’t do it. Every time it’s [because of] economical reasons.”
On Thursday night, Porter Square residents met to discuss what could be done to restore the sculpture to its former glory.
“The genesis of this meeting is ‘G——–, we got to get this thing painted,’” said Ruth Ryals, Porter Square Neighborhood Association president. “It’s key to this square and this part of Cambridge … The things we have are quite unique. They are by famous artists and are unique presentations of art and they deserve to not be treated that way.”
On the surface, the restoration job does not seem to be a difficult one. Take the sculpture down, repair or replace any parts, repaint the arms, and re-install it. The enduring question is: Who should pay for it?
When asked, everyone from Porter Square residents to the sculptor have responded, “the MBTA.” The agency is, after all, the sculpture’s owner and has overseen its restoration in the past.
In a statement to Cambridge Day, the MBTA wrote, “We continue to evaluate every station element, including art, through the lens of safety, durability, and operational impact… Art should complement — not compromise — the function and longevity of our infrastructure so that we can always give riders what they deserve.”
But restoring its artwork is not exactly a budget priority for the transit agency, which expects to end its fiscal year in June with a $239 million budget deficit. That amount is forecast to more than double or even triple without new revenue sources.
Complicating matters is that the T no longer has a position or program solely dedicated to public art. Internal staff restructuring and cutbacks to federal funding for arts suggests that the agency that was once so proud of its pioneering art collection has moved on.
“I fear very much that, if we don’t solve this, the MBTA will take [Gift of the Wind] down, look at it, decide they can’t afford it, and put it on their ‘lost art’ shelf,” said Ryals.
If not the MBTA, could the city of Cambridge fund the sculpture’s restoration? This is not the first time residents have asked. But, there are complications with maintaining the sculpture. Should the city pay to paint a sculpture it does not own? What kind of legal arrangement would allow them to do so?
At Thursday’s neighborhood association meeting, Massachusetts State Rep. Marjorie Decker, who represents Porter Square, told residents she was “fairly confident” these issues would be resolved.
She said she is waiting for a cost estimate of the sculpture’s restoration from the MBTA and a conversation with Cambridge’s city manager on what the city’s contribution could be. Afterwards, she could request funds out of the state budget.
Splitting the bill might be the sculpture’s best shot at getting a makeover.
”I don’t think it should be the provenance of just the city,” said Jason Weeks, executive director of the Cambridge Arts Council, the city’s organization that originally collaborated with the MBTA to create Arts on the Line.
“There are public art projects in all our stations. If one community is taking care of the one in their community and there’s another community that can’t take care of theirs, it takes the responsibility off the state to maintain its own resources. Then you have a scattershot approach to maintenance. If you take the Red Line up from the South Shore and have a radically different experience as you go up Alewife, you don’t want your travel from one community to the other to be a radically different experience.”
Whoever pays, the project of getting stakeholders to commit to the restoration seems more challenging than the restoration itself.
Porter Square resident Chris Jorgenson acknowledged in an interview the “thankless” nature of maintenance, which often goes underfunded and presents an inconvenience to the public. “Putting in something new, people notice,” she said. “But often maintenance goes unnoticed. [It’s] not recognized for the gift that it is.”
One stakeholder is already invested: the sculptor Shingu.
“I want to support this movement and do as much as possible,” he said. “I don’t have projects in the U.S. now, but if necessary, I could come to Cambridge and meet with people. I want to be active for this sculpture.”
Although he is generally reticent to discuss politics, Shingu’s artwork is not entirely apolitical. At this particular moment in history, with so much strife regarding sovereignty and migration, the wind has something to tell us.
“Wind has no borders,” he said. “I hope that [“Gift of the Wind”] never [becomes] boring for the people who watch it every day.”
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Replace this “art” with a London Plane tree, or any tree, for that matter. Nature will be more “interesting” to look at than this silly carousel. It’s so heavy, so artificial, so clumsily engineered that it’s no surprise even the strongest winds barely cause it to budge. Unfortunately, it’s also ugly, a cardinal sin for a work of art. Anyone with feelings of nostalgia who thinks this ought to be restored to its uh…former glory (ahem…) is missing the point. In a time of encroaching metal and concrete in Cambridge, anything natural is a step forward, a step the city needs to take for the well being of its residents. My film, OPEN SPACE, at http://www.openspacefilmproject.net, tells the story of the healing powers of nature, the best of all art forms.
Great article and photos. I like the sculpture and hope it gets maintained soon. I wish the other art elements on the T would also be maintained. Maybe the state could start an endowment for maintaining them, then prioritize which to maintain. Maybe a different state agency that works on the arts should be in charge in stead of the T.