A significant, large-scale work by the late artist Sol LeWitt vanished from the exterior of a federally owned downtown building — and the government agency in charge of the piece had refused to say why.
Lines in Four Directions, a 90-foot-by-72-foot artwork, had been mounted on the west facade of 10 W. Jackson Blvd., an office building owned by the U.S. General Services Administration.
A GSA spokesperson went silent Tuesday after promising since last week to find out what is happening with the work.
But after an earlier version of this column posted Wednesday afternoon, the GSA miraculously found its voice and emailed the following statement: “The artwork was temporarily removed in early March to accommodate planned work on the wall. GSA is working with the conservator on a plan for reinstallation.”
Coincidentally, the sculpture was removed the same month the Trump administration decided to shut down the branch of the GSA that oversees the department’s 26,000 pieces of art and artifacts.
In addition, the GSA removed an online entry about the LeWitt piece from a section of its website dedicated to the agency’s fine arts collection.
Rhona Hoffman, owner of Rhona Hoffman Gallery, was a friend of LeWitt and among the sponsors instrumental in getting Lines in Four Directions installed in 1985.
“Holy [cow],” Hoffman said, when I told her — before the GSA decided to talk — that the work had been removed. “Oh my gosh, I don’t want to lose that or lose sight of where it is … wow.”
She’s right.
And taking away the public sculpture without first telling, well, the public is not a good look.
‘A quiet, contemplative work’
LeWitt, who died in 2007 at age 78, was a celebrated artist whose works often explored abstract lines and forms.
The Art Institute of Chicago has 80 of his pieces in its permanent collection.
Lines in Four Directions is a rectangular work rendered in aluminum featuring a grid of four squares, each with painted aluminum strips that were oriented either vertically, horizontally and diagonally. The strips are set in relief, which gave the sculpture a 3D quality that changed moods with the movement of the sun.
The work was funded by a $50,000 grant from the National Endowment for the Arts and donations raised by Art in Public Places, a nonprofit that was created in 1974 and funded by the NEA.
According to documents provided by the Hoffman Gallery, the sculpture cost $196,581 to create and mount. Sponsors thought the work would be worth $400,000 upon completion.
Lines in Four Directions was built onto the rear side of the then privately owned former Bond Clothing Store at 240 S. State St., enlivening a small plaza between the six-story structure and the Dirksen Federal Building.
The sculpture’s dedication plaque is a list of those who moved and shook the city back then — the likes of Gaylord Donnelley, Lillian Florsheim, Walter and Dawn Clark Netsch and the First National Bank of Chicago — which further speaks to the work’s importance.
Sculptor Richard Hunt was a consultant on the project.
“It is a quiet, contemplative work that provides a momentary escape from the surrounding city bustle,” the city’s catalog of public art said of the LeWitt sculpture.
The federal government bought the building and the sculpture in 2000.
Daniel Schulman, former director for public art for the city’s Department of Cultural Affairs and Special Events, said he was “in a panic” when he saw the 10 W. Jackson Blvd. building’s wall last week.
“The LeWitt is one of my favorite public artworks in the city,” he said.
“It manages to be both monumental and incredibly reserved, on a scale and a setting that somehow perfectly mirrored LeWitt’s artistic personality,” Schulman said. “How incredible for Chicago.”
Time for the GSA to speak up
Let’s make it plain: What made the LeWitt’s disappearance and the GSA’s silence particularly distressing is that it occurs within the context of the Trump administration’s desire to sell off government assets — almost fire sale-style — under the guise of federal cost-cutting.
In March, the GSA suddenly put up 443 federal properties for sale, including the Chicago Federal Center’s Kluczynski and Metcalfe buildings and post office.
The GSA quickly rescinded the list. But issuing it in the first place raises eyebrows and alarms, given the properties for sale did not include the nearby federally-owned Century and Consumers buildings, two vacant and moldering vintage Chicago landmarks at 202 and 220 S. State St.
The GSA is seeking developers for the two towers, but the buildings have been in limbo for years. The agency’s tight-lipped, belated and detail-free response on the LeWitt doesn’t exactly reassure the public that the sculpture won’t face the same fate as the two historic skyscrapers.
The GSA has been a good partner for Chicago, building and maintaining a collection of some of the country’s finest architecture and public art.
The possibility of that legacy being put at risk is a shameful one.
This story has been updated with a comment from the General Services Administration.