Bridge Opens, Art Mob Ensues

​We're all in favor of public art, free art, and art being made more accessible to those too busy or too mystified to enter the galleries and museums. And artists, along with their supporters, can be proud when they land a grant or public commission to place some work on a permanent or temporary site. But I'm not sure, however, that being stuck in traffic is the best place or time for art appreciation.

Take the example of the new audio installation by Kristen Ramirez at the Fremont Bridge. It had its figurative and literal opening on Saturday, when her sonic collage would play every time the bridge spans tilted upward for boats to pass. Meanwhile, on a beautiful day, motorists and other bridge crossers stared with some incomprehension at the cheerful brigade Ramirez had orchestrated to tout her work. Wearing orange and blue T-shirts, the small mob smiled and waved signs with bland, friendly slogans--not exactly promoting a product or a cause, but communicating a happily self-satisfied attitude of "We support the arts!" Try to imagine a Pioneer Square gallery show trucking in an audience of boosters, only not in an ironic kind of way.

Stopped at the bridge to listen, I noticed that motorists had a hard time sharing in the good cheer. So confounded were they by the art rally, that they may not have even heard the art...

Pausing at the open Fremont Bridge on my bike, I had an excellent position to hear Ramirez's audio collage, which will play through April. (Though only during daylight hours, and without the supporters on hand.) It's friendly, tweety, cheery--all bells and bird songs and boat horns. Twee, in other words. And who's going to listen from inside their car? How many are going to roll down their windows during a rainy November rush hour in preference to what's already playing on their car stereo? If you're a pedestrian or cyclist, you can hear the composition better, but it hardly cuts through--or represents--Seattle's natural urban soundtrack.

Ramirez calls it Bridge Talks Back, but is that really what the Fremont Bridge would say to us? The 92-year-old bascule bridge is famously creaky and complaining, prone to breaking or getting stuck at inconvenient times and positions. It's a relic of the World War I era and our enthusiasm to link up Lake Washington with Puget Sound. It's obsolete and charming, something to appreciate as scenery only when you're not in a hurry. It's also a motorist's nightmare with its slippery metal decking, awkward intersections at both ends, and cyclists whisking on and off the sidewalk and into the painted bike lanes. The city is constantly fixing it, most recently spending some $40 million to keep it operating.

According to a press release from the Seattle Office of Arts & Cultural Affairs, which funded the project, Bridge Talks Back is supposed to be "celebrating the daily rhythms and sounds of the bridge." Really? Bird songs and gentle nautical bells? What about drivers cursing one another, or shouting at Glenn Beck or NPR hosts on their radio? What about the rap music pouring out of one idling car next to a heavy metal listener in the neighboring lane? What about the constant engine noise of commuters and grinding gears of the bridge itself? If the bridge could indeed talk back, I think it would say, "I'm old and tired and in need of replacement! I was built for a few Model Ts, not thousands of daily commuters."

But, still, I'm not sure that motorists would willingly stop to hear that message either.