On Friday, I spent a good amount of time looking at the two Runquist murals, trying to view them from both sides of the potential controversy. My first impression was one of awe. Seeing the murals on a computer screen does not give justice to the experience of looking at the paintings in person. The tree that seems to grow alongside the evolution of humanity towers above the viewer and provides a physical experience of being made to feel insignificant against the accumulative expanse of human history. My mind instantly reverted back to a few things Ellen Dissayunake said in her address, “Art for Life’s Sake.” She describes the human propensity to “make special” the world around them through art (22). Originally, on looking at the two murals, that was how I saw both of them. They both seemed to me to be an artist’s attempt to capture everything that education meant to them: the work over years and years to develop and evolve and grow as an entire civilization. I know very little about the Runquists, but the murals gave me the sense that the two brothers were trying to find a way in which to beautify a place of learning and encapsulate meaning into what education is all about. I could not find malice or purposeful insensitivity in the murals, but I did notice the obvious lack of diversity in the murals and took time to ponder that issue carefully.
When Erika Doss describes controversy in art, she says, “Plenty of controversies have, in fact, generated meaningful conversations about public culture” (6). The controversy over the Runquist murals seems to be one of those types of controversies. It is a discussion on the cultural milieu of our past versus that of today, and whether or not it is acceptable to appreciate artwork from the past that goes against the modern view of the world. Personally, I am not sure that this example of that discussion provides the best opportunity to discuss both sides. Though the lack of diversity is noticeable in our day of age, there is nothing in the mural that I see as explicitly derogatory. For me, the conversation becomes: does the benefits of having the mural (including the meaning expressed, the historical significance, and the beautification) outweigh the potential offenses of the piece of art. As a white male, it is hard for me to quantify the potential for offense in the mural, but I do honestly feel that the piece has more to say about the good things in human history than it offends by its lack of diversity. When the murals are put into the context of their time, the absence of racial and gender diversity is more representative of the place of the world in the 1930’s than anything. When discussing controversy, Doss says that the people of the United States deal with a conflict with “the national ideal… an equitable, unified and rational democracy,” but that that ideal often “yields to reality” (6). The reality is that the past of the United States was white and male dominated, but the benefits of the beautiful art should not be dismissed because it reflects former American ideals.
Public art is an accessible way to connect generations of people to their past. It does create a sense of identity in a community and it gives a place a historical meaning. The Runquist murals find a way to associate the work being done in the Knight Library today, my work and the work of my peers, with the great historical achievements of this University and of humanity in general. I understand controversies and that any kind of art created through public funds has the potential to offend a portion of the public. Those people may feel that the art represents a government demeaning that portion of its citizens. However, I feel as educated people, we have the ability to use the art for something more than just art and that is why public art, in the face of every single person, is necessary.