Memoir of the Disappearance of Martin Puryear

This short memoir was provoked by an article titled, “The Disappearance of Martin Puryear” about the destruction of the artist's sculpture at the Michigan Legacy Art Park written by the Director Joseph Beyer and published on the Park’s web site.

https://michiganlegacyartpark.medium.com/the-disappearance-of-martin-puryear-e7a2d7ec7ab

My memoir seeks to tell the story of the creation of that artwork, its transfer to the Michigan Legacy Art Park, and its destruction based on my first-hand connection to that story. Importantly, it seeks to correctly describe the roles played by Professor Al Hebert and David Barr.

No Bread from a Broken Basket

Jim Pallas (Professor, retired)

One sunny summer day, I was walking down the north colonnade on Macomb County College’s South Campus.

“Jim …Jim, wait up! I’ve been looking for you. I’m so angry“

“Hi, Henry. What’s the matter?”

Henry Christensen was a senior groundskeeper.

“Did you hear what happened to that big basket sculpture?”

He was referring to the sculpture that Martin Puryear and students created for the College during a 10 day residency a few years earlier.

Professor Hebert conceived the idea of a short term artist residency in which students would assist an established artist in creating an artwork from beginning to end. He had in mind Martin Puryear. He proposed it to the art department, who loved it, and then the administration. They approved.

The initial event of the residency was a slide lecture by Puryear which I attended.

I was surprised by Puryear’s talking about his childhood love for cowboys and that, unlike most of us boys, he never grew out of that passion. He continued to be fascinated by the “cowboy era” and the artifacts of pioneers and early Americans. He showed utilitarian objects from that time, including baskets, and talked about hand labor, natural materials and the patience and sophisticated processes required to bring such objects into being. He showed us some of his previous works that grew from these interests including a recent one, Bask (1976) of tapered wood staves bent into a gentle curved volume. At the end of his talk, Puryear invited any interested persons to sign up to collaborate and work with him on the art-making project. I left impressed.

Professor Hebert successfully found the funds to pay an honorarium of $800 to the artist. The honorarium did not include ten days’ lodging or meals. But Prof. Hebert and Mr. Puryear are close friends from their undergraduate days at the Catholic University of America in Washington D.C. and have kept in touch since. Both welcomed the arrangement that Mr. Puryear would stay at Professor Hebert and his wife’s residence.

Also, since there was no money for materials,a student, the late Charles Hendren, found a manufacturer of shipping pallets who was excited to be part of the project and donated the wood necessary to realize the design they had created. Professor Hebert managed contingencies as the sculpture took shape over the next several days.

The sculpture is a large inverted basket shape constructed of bent wood staves, was mildly controversial when it was sited on MCC’s south campus. Ten feet high and resting on a circular base 10 feet in diameter, Its size was imposing, especially from up close. It’s surface was an open network of unfinished wood. Its shape rose ten feet to a ridge from a ten feet diameter circular base. It didn’t look like anything familiar. Some folks guessed it might be an unfinished building fixture or a strange crate. There was no plaque indicating it was a work of art. No informational label, title, date, or artist’s name.

This sculpture was a good object to introduce folks to contemporary art. Having spent three years guiding tours on staff at the Detroit Institute of Arts, I enjoyed leading groups of students and others to Puryear’s piece. I guided them in how to approach such an artwork, to look carefully and clear their mind of expectations and, thus, open themselves to let it speak to them and be aware how the artwork makes them feel. A group of people in that state of mind quickly finds many clues. Somebody says it’s like an upside down basket. Somebody else sees it as a helmet. Another observes that the shape’s interior is dark and someone describes the dynamics of the light from the other side seen through openings in the staves.

At that point, a few questions from the guide often will precipitate several opinions about the artist’s intentions. Usually those opinions will vary and the group will experience that a work of art can contain a multitude of meanings. A basket often holds food. An inverted basket offers no sustenance. How can a basket be like a helmet? Vice Versa? A helmet holds a head like a basket holds food. A helmet suggests protection from danger and violence. Often valid interpretations will contradict each other and the group can experience that Yin Yang thing where a truth evolves into its opposite. The guide might inform them that this artwork has no title because this artist does not want to influence them by suggesting what it is about. The guide might say “if it’s title was “Helmet”, you might not see the artwork’s beauty, warmth and humanity. Puryear says, “I trust people's eyes, I trust their imagination.”

Titles can interfere with that process.

Henry was in an agitated state.

“No. What happened to the sculpture?” I replied.

“Mr. Lorleg (not his real name. He’s a campus administrator in the plant operation department) suggested to one of the lawnmower guys that ”it would be a shame if one of them should accidentally run into it and damage it. Because then they would have to remove that ugly thing and destroy it. So the guy took the hint and did it. Then Mr. Lorleg ordered that a forklift operator tear it from its base and put it in the equipment yard.”

Immediately, I went to the equipment yard to verify Henry’s account. The damage from the lawnmower was minimal. But the forklift operator had pierced the sculpture in order to lift it. That damage was significant. I informed the South Campus Director what I had heard and seen, and asked that the sculpture be moved from the storage yard to an safe interior area, and that care be taken to not further damage the artwork. For the next several months I would periodically visit the sculpture to be certain that it had not been molested further. Time passed. My visits became annual but I made sure that Mr.Lorleg knew of them.

There was no satisfactory institutional resolution to the problem and the sculpture remained in storage for months, years, decades. In the meantime Martin Puryear’s career continued to blossom including shows at the Corcoran and the Whitney, a Guggenheim Fellowship, A MacArthur “Genius Grant” and, recently, a National Medal of Arts.

“His work is widely exhibited and collected both in the United States and internationally. Included amongst Puryear's public works is his large-scale composition ARK (1988) which was designed for York college and can be viewed presently on the school's campus in Queens, New York…..A 30-year survey, organized by the Museum of Modern Art, New York and which traveled to the National Gallery of Art, the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, and the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth, included installations of some of the artist's largest works,. “ (Wikipedia 2021)

As I approached retirement, I sought approval from the MCC president to find a suitable non-profit entity to accept the sculpture. I contacted the Detroit Institute of Arts Curator of Contemporary Art, Maryann Wilkinson. The D.I.A.seriously considered taking it but ultimately declined. They didn’t want to deal with the restoration. Also its size was too big for gallery space and exhibiting it outdoors would be a maintenance and security problem. I considered other venues including Michigan Legacy Art Park (MLAP)near Thompsonville, Michigan. I was aware that the Park has a reputation among artists as a place where artworks go to die. Several of their pieces, often donated by artists themselves, had deteriorate, gone missing, are vandalized or destroyed by weather or unsupervised visitors. I asked David Barr, the Park’s founder, what he thought. Barr knew Puryear’s reputation had soared and so had his prices. I suggested the Park might consider accepting the work if there were no strings attached and then commission a highly regarded restorer to bring it back to a more acceptable condition and sell it. Or sell it “as is” - whichever would be more profitable. The benefit of several hundreds of thousands of dollars would do the Park more good than the presence of that artwork for the handful of years it might exist before it rots into the soil of a woodsy trail. We explored the ethics of selling a gift and decided that unless the artists stipulated that the gift was conditional on not being sold,it was OK We discussed the Visual Artists Rights Act, but the sculpture was created too early for that to be a complicating factor. David said he’d consider it and maybe talk to some board members.

Months later, David informed me that the Park would be happy to accept the piece and he would arrange the transfer. It didn’t occur to me that the transfer to the Art Park would eventually lead to the Park’s willful destruction of this major early work in Martin Puryear’s ouvre.

David hauled the piece to the Park and though David had no experience as a restorer, attempted to repair the sculpture over the next few years by replacing damaged sections himself. In his article, “The Disappearance of Martin Puryear”, the Park’s Director Joseph Beyer quotes Jim Ristine, David’s friend and supporter of the Park, ”He [David] really wanted to bring it back to life.” The director reports that the 2008 maintenance log notes the presence of “wet rot, buckling and fading.” For the next few years the notes lament deterioration: “As feared— it began to decay quickly. At first where the bottom touched the raw ground, and then higher where the splints had separated from the trim. Lichen and moss covered the surfaces in a natural patina.” There are no indications in the notes of any remedial actions taken; No record of a professional restorer’s inspection report or recommendations, no discussion of building a protective shelter, no attempt to lift it to isolate it from the damp ground, no application of preservative, no removal of lichen or moss.

Director Beyer’s account of the Park’s arriving at the decision to “deaccess” raises troubling questions. It appears that after the sculpture had deteriorated to the point that it was “beyond saving or...a safety hazard”, the Park says they contacted Puryear thru his gallerist, Stephanie Dorsey, Director of Matthew Marks Gallery, “formally seeking blessings to restore or recreate the artwork.”

The reply:

““In answer to the Letter of Understanding to Martin Puryear regarding the work referred to as “Untitled 2” that Mr. Puryear made while a visiting artist at Macomb Community College in 1978. The work in question was made as a collaborative exercise with students, and was never intended as permanent. As such, the work was expected to deteriorate naturally without maintenance. As the work is made of wood and is in the process of inevitable decay, it is surprising it has lasted this long.”

The Letter of Understanding, which Ms. Dorsey refers to, is not included in Mr, Beyer’s article.

Troubling question 1: If the Park wished to “restore or recreate” the work, why didn’t they initiate that when they first received it.?

Troubling question 2: If the work was beyond saving, why seek a “blessing to restore” it. Furthermore, It is difficult to imagine any artist giving anyone a “blessing“ to recreate their deteriorated artwork, especially if that deterioration occurred while in the owner’s possession.

Troubling question 3: Why seek a “blessing” from the artist? The Visual Artists Rights Act does not require the artist’s approval for their artwork to be restored - or, for that matter, destroyed. In any case, the date of Puryear’s transfer of ownership to Macomb College would be the event that would qualify the artwork to protection under the Act. That transfer occurred in 1978, twelve years before the law went into effect. In other words, Ms. Dorsey’s opinion regarding disposal of the artwork is irrelevant.

Troubling question 4: Did the Park never consider selling the work?

In “The Disappearance of Martin Puryear”, it seems the Park lived up to its reputation of accepting the destruction of artworks in its collection as a “natural process” and grieves the loss as inevitable; ”Through no fault but the passage of time.” Park volunteer David Williams in Beyer’s article is quoted, ”Between 2002 and his death, I frequently worked with David in the Art Park. One day he and I were talking about it and he estimated the value at half a million dollars due to Puryear’s ascending popularity.” David Barr died in 2015.

Errors:.

The article, “The Disappearance of Martin Puryear”, about the destruction of “Untitled 2” at the Michigan Legacy Art Park written by the Director Joseph Beyer and published on the Park’s web site contained many errors and presents a false account of the creation of “Untitled 2” and its treatment at Macomb Community College.

The most egregious and puzzling error in the article is the total absence of any mention of MCC Professor Al Hebert who was key to Puryear’s residency at MCC and the creation of the sculpture in 1978.

Most of the other errors below are trivial, such as:

- “there are only thirteen* photos of it in existence we can find …” There are scores of photos of the work.

-Untitled 2 “… was tucked away in the northwest corner of the courtyard at Center Campus.” The sclpture was never at MCC’s Center Campus.

Other errors might be attributed to incomplete research, such as:

-“Ristine and Sauvé (and now Standfest) all confirmed it was the original “Untitled 2” Puryear and the students created”

None of those three persons saw Puryear and the students create “Untitled 2”. Not that it matters: There is no controversy as to its provenance.

- “Puryear’s “Box and Pole” was … shown at Macomb County Community College in Warren, Michigan in 1978.”

In fact “Box and Pole” was never exhibited at MCC.

-“Puryear and Barr’s students started work together on ‘Untitled 2,’”As far as I know, no students from Barr's classes worked on “Untitled 2” - but they could have. As art teachers in a community college, we did not think of students as belonging to one teacher or another. Most of the participating students were from Prof. Al Hebert’s sculpture class. David was not scheduled to be on campus the day Puryear gave his introductory presentation and he did not attend it.

“Since referenced in a numerical series, we might deduce the class created multiple works…”. Only one sculptural work was created during Puryear’s MCC residency. Since there are other works created later by Puryear that were titled “Untitled”, The title “Untitled 2 “ may have been an identification created by Ms. Dorsey necessitated by the Park’s request for permission to restore the artwork.

-“Barr had been teaching at Macomb since 1965 as Associate Professor of Sculpture “

Funny story: Barr was not an associate professor. In fact, he was a full professor. Here’s how he ascended to that lofty pedagogical position:

At Macomb Community College in the 1960’s, unfair management practices resulted in a bitter strike and walk-out by all the faculty. At the first union meeting after the strike was settled, solidarity among the faculty was strong and spirits were high. Yet a squabble arose over the issue of individual titles among faculty regarding the hierarchy of academic rank such as instructor, assistant professor, associate professor, professor. A loud voice in the crowd proposed a motion that all faculty be hereby immediately granted the title of “Professor” and that the vote be by acclamation. The chair put the motion to a vote and, on that happy day, all instructors loudly became proud Professors - including David Barr.

- “Puryear was 37 years old and Barr was 38 — both interested in the history of craftsmanship and the constructivism of art presented democratically, with laborer materials... David Barr was a member of the Structuralist group established by Charles Biederman about a relationship of nature with art. It is not to be confused with Constructivism which is about materials and space. Barr was not particularly interested in Constructivism, the history of craftsmanship or the use of traditional historical American materials as was Puryear at that time. Barr’s artworks are made of painted Masonite (pressed board) or painted steel. A few of his early works employ unpainted wood and brass. A very few of his large late works were fabricated of stone by masons at his direction. Any special connection between Puryear’s and Barr’s creations is superficial

The article also suggests that there was a close and warm relationship between David Barr and Martin Puryear. In fact there was no relationship. Puryear’s introductory talk happened on an evening David Barr was not teaching and he was not there. As far as I know Barr never saw, met, or spoke to Puryear. Barr’s faculty office and the classrooms in which he taught were located at the opposite end of the campus from the sculpture studio where the Puryear sculpture was created. Barr was on campus two days a week to teach classes and sit for office hours. He did not eat lunch or “hang out” there. As far as I know their paths never happened to cross. Barr respected Puryear and his art. Martin is a personable, perceptive and sophisticated artist. David was a knowledgeable, articulate raconteur. I am certain that if they had met, both would have enjoyed the occasion.