Page 103 - David Bermant Foundation

(continued)art, not necessarily good art, but art nonetheless.Trouble was brewing in Cermak Plaza. The shopping center was host to many works and the most infamous was a sculpture called, “Big Bil-Bored.” Nancy Rubins’ piece was a testament to consumerism. A 100-ton concrete structure, shaped like a pork chop and pocked with a mosaic of toasters, radios, blenders, desk fans and just about any and every other small appliance you can think of. It stood forty feet high in the lot and, as DWB simply put it, “My public hated it with a passion.”“It’s a good thing you don’t live here, Bermant,” people would call him up to say. “You don’t have to look at this thing every day.”“Don’t look at it,” DWB replied. “Look the other way and you don’t have to be bothered by it.”“Big Bil-Bored” stood on private property so there was nothing the citizens or the city could do. “That course didn’t exactly make me popular,” said DWB, but he stuck to his guns. Controversy is not just in the nature of art, sometimes it is its purpose. Unlike “Spindle,” “Big Bil-Bored” had little local support or sentimental attachment. People were not driving out of their way to take their picture in front of it.After ten years of complaints and petitions from shoppers and aldermen a referendum was held. DWB agreed that if the majority of voters wanted the sculpture removed, he’d do just that. The answer came back 79 percent of voters in favor of removal. But DWB commissioned his own poll. The Gallup Organization conducted a study of a larger population at the same time as the public vote. They returned a different result. Fifty-one percentof people surveyed indicated the sculpture should be retained. Since his agreement with the city was that a clear majority must want the removal, and the two results didn’t match up, DWB declared victory for the sculpture. “Big Bil-Bored” would stay.In the midst of this, DWB looked into the huge parking lot at Cermak Plaza and knew it needed something more. He called Dustin Shuler, “Kid, I got a shopping center with a huge parking lot . . . I want something spectacular in there. What do you got?”Shuler had been thinking of “Spindle” for years. He’d built a model. Now was the time. He had a photo. He handed it to DWB and said, “How’s this?”“Yeah,” considered DWB. “Yeah, I think that would do it.” And then he said, “How much?” Shuler had no idea. So, DWB offered, “Here’s a thousand dollars. Find out.”How do you impale nine cars on a spike? How do you keep it from falling over? How do the cars stay in place? What kind of materials will it take? How much time? What will that cost? Shuler slogged his way through and came up with his figures. He submitted his findings, including his fee. DWB said, “Fine,” and they took it from there.Actually, that’s the simple version; two no-nonsense men who get the job done and do it on a handshake. After that handshake came a contract and that can get rough, even, or especially, among friends. When DWB commissioned a piece, he kept the copyright. That’s good business. Shuler gave up the copyrights on the two Pintos, but he didn’t like it. Shuler always kept his copyrights. That’s good business too.102