KEY POINTS:
That artist Elizabeth McClure wants her name dissociated from the $250,000 glass and light sculpture set in the Queen St pavement outside the Civic Theatre, would, you might have thought, been a sign that all was not well.
As would Mayor Dick Hubbard being "too busy" on Friday afternoon to discuss the controversy that has erupted since he unveiled, three weeks ago, this "absolutely stunning addition to our main street".
But arts and culture committee chair Penny Sefuiva, whom the mayor referred me on to, has leaped to its defence with guns blazing. "We've got so used to bright and flash on our screens, we expect that to come out of every piece of glass."
There were no plans to do anything to change the work, she said. "I think in terms of the concept it's fine. Apparently it fulfils all the criteria it was set. I suppose if you had an expectation of a bright bluey-green light then you'll be disappointed.
"But if you accept it's something more subtle, then yeah ... "
Retiring from politics in two months as she is, it was noble of Mrs Sefuiva to stand rear guard for the bureaucrats and politicians who ticked this disaster through and want to stay in their jobs.
But she is rather pushing the concept of subtle. It's like coming across a dead body and describing it as a subtle representation of what the mayor called "a symbol of life, energy and new beginnings ... "
Coward that I am, I'm not saying this is a bad work of art, though experts such as gallery owner Gary Langsford and consultant Hamish Keith do.
I'm asking how anyone would know until the technical consultants involved in this joint enterprise pump enough electricity into it to bring it to life.
And if the consultants involved - Architectus and HUB Street Equipment - can't, they should be sending ratepayers a refund. I bet if they took a flash new television home and discovered half the pixels didn't work, they wouldn't just sigh, say "oh dear" and write it off to experience.
The bigger issue is why politicians continue to rely on bureaucrats to make the decisions regarding major pieces of public art. If ever there was a case for roping in the experts, it's surely in an area as fraught and controversial as this.
An obvious model to turn to is the Auckland City Sculpture Trust, set up in 2001 "to provide innovative, contemporary public New Zealand sculpture that enriches the city spaces".
The trust already works in partnership with Auckland City Council. The council provides sites for artworks, helps with the regulatory hurdles and looks after the completed works' long-term maintenance. The trust funds and commissions the art.
Modelled on the successful Wellington sculpture trust, the Auckland trust has just the arm's-length systems in place that Auckland City should be employing.
Appreciating that art is controversial, it relies on a team of experts to winnow through the expressions of interest from artists, received once a site has been identified. Applicants submit a concept, including illustrations and narrative.
From these a short list emerges. The finalists are then paid to produce a scale model of their proposed work. A work is selected and that decision peer reviewed. From all accounts, the process is rigorous.
It's hard to imagine the controversial Civic pavement "collaborative art work" having got the nod if it had gone through the trust's procedures without one of the experts asking the obvious question: What's going to happen when it's plugged in?
Of course the city council could set up a parallel procedure, but why reinvent the wheel? And why would you continue the competition now going on?
For once, it's a public-private partnership model that I could support. You have to suspect that operating as a partnership would have the added benefit of encouraging private patronage.
Instead of the trustees having to knock on their rich friends' doors with grand plans and an empty begging bowl, they could front up to the potential donor with a project already through the red tape process and with half the cost, perhaps, already guaranteed by the city. Easier to persuade someone that their contribution was all that was needed to begin the project than to try to get them in at the start.
It must be better than the present mess.
