When Public Art Becomes a Public Trigger

 When Public Art Becomes a Public Trigger

There is a difference between challenging people with art and accosting people with disturbing imagery when they are simply trying to enjoy a public space.

I want to talk about the João Loureiro artwork Vancouver Novel, installed along Point Grey Road as part of the Vancouver Biennale.

The Biennale explains that the work is deliberately made up of short, sometimes ominous statements. It is supposed to make us think about the boundary between public and private life, social media, voyeurism and our appetite for information.

Fine.

I understand the artistic concept.

But I don't think artistic intention is the end of the conversation.

Because this isn't a gallery.

You don't have to buy a ticket.

You don't decide, “Today I'm going to expose myself to challenging contemporary art.”

You might simply be riding your bicycle.

You might be walking beside the ocean.

You might be a teenager.

You might be a parent.

You might be someone in recovery.

You might have lost a mother, father, brother, sister, child or friend to an overdose.

And then suddenly, in the middle of your peaceful bike ride, you're confronted by disturbing messages involving pills and other deeply unsettling themes.

You didn't choose that.

That matters.

Art can be a trigger

We talk increasingly about trauma, mental health and triggers. We understand that certain images, words and situations can unexpectedly bring people back into painful experiences.

So why does that consideration suddenly disappear when we call something art?

A trigger doesn't require someone to have the same reaction as the artist intended.

The artist may be asking an intellectual question.

The person passing by may experience something completely different.

And we cannot see those consequences.

We don't know who went home upset.

We don't know who was reminded of a child's death.

We don't know who was reminded of a parent's overdose.

We don't know who is struggling with addiction themselves.

We don't know who is carrying grief that nobody around them can see.

The consequences are invisible.

And that is precisely why public art requires responsibility.

Vancouver is living through an overdose crisis

This is not happening in some abstract universe where pills are merely an artistic symbol.

This is Vancouver.

This is British Columbia.

We have watched families bury people because of the toxic drug supply.

Young people have died.

Teenagers and young adults have died.

Parents have lost children.

Children have lost parents.

Entire families have been permanently changed.

So when someone says, “It's only art,” I don't think that's good enough.

Context matters.

A gallery can present difficult material with warnings, context, programming and the understanding that people have voluntarily entered an exhibition.

A public bike route is different.

People should be able to ride beside the water without having disturbing material thrust into their field of vision.

Would we accept anything simply because it is art?

Here's where I become really uncomfortable.

If an image or message is disturbing enough that we would recognize it as potentially triggering in another context, does putting it behind the label ART magically remove the responsibility?

Would we accept a giant public sign showing a gun?

A suicide scene?

Graphic violence?

Drug paraphernalia?

Something designed to evoke someone's worst trauma?

At some point we have to ask:

Where is the line?

And I am not arguing that artists should be forbidden from making difficult work.

Quite the opposite.

Make it. Exhibit it. Debate it. Challenge us.

But please understand that location is part of the artwork.

If you deliberately put something in a public space where cyclists, joggers, pedestrians, families and young people are going to encounter it, you have made a decision about your audience.

You have made the public part of the work whether they agreed to participate or not.

The Biennale should reconsider

I am not calling for censorship of João Loureiro.

I am calling for responsibility.

If the words are causing distress, change the words.

If the concept depends upon disturbing messages, move the work somewhere appropriate.

If the location is essential to the concept, then perhaps the people responsible for commissioning and maintaining public art need to ask themselves whether the artistic benefit outweighs the unintended human cost.

Take it down or change the wording.

That isn't anti-art.

That is asking the people who put art into public spaces to remember that the public is made of real human beings.

Some are carrying grief.

Some are carrying trauma.

Some are carrying addiction.

Some are carrying the memory of someone they loved who never made it home.

And you cannot see any of that from a bicycle path.

That's the problem.

You don't know who you are triggering.

And if you don't know, you have a responsibility to think harder.

Art should make us think.

Absolutely.

But public art should also make the people who install it think.

Because artistic freedom is important.

So is human responsibility.

And sometimes the most responsible artistic decision is knowing when a work needs to change.

public art, Vancouver Biennale, João Loureiro, Vancouver Novel, public space, artistic responsibility, trauma triggers, overdose crisis, fentanyl crisis, community safety

#PublicArt, #VancouverBiennale, #JoaoLoureiro, #VancouverNovel, #PublicSpace, #ArtisticResponsibility, #ArtAndSociety, #TraumaAwareness, #OverdoseCrisis, #CommunityCare