Fourth Plinth Continues Proud Tradition of Making Everyone Pretend They Understand Public Art
LONDON. A new sculpture depicting a contemporary "everywoman" has been unveiled on Trafalgar Square's Fourth Plinth, continuing one of London's most visible public-art programmes.
The work places a modern female figure in the ceremonial heart of the capital. Evening Standard report on the new Fourth Plinth sculpture For more civic-cultural satire, see London Cultural Satire.
The Fourth Plinth is one of London's finest institutions because every few years the city places something unusual on a giant stone pedestal and asks 9 million residents:
"Well?"
Public art produces four standard reactions.
"That's magnificent."
"That's rubbish."
"My child could do that."
"What does it mean?"
The fourth group is largest.
Nobody wants to admit this.
People stand thoughtfully.
Hands behind back.
Slight head tilt.
"Hmmm."
This noise means:
"I have absolutely no idea."
The new work celebrates a contemporary everywoman.
That creates an impossible artistic challenge because London contains approximately 4.5 million women, none of whom would appreciate being informed they are represented by somebody else's shoes.
An everywoman must somehow be specific enough to be art and general enough to represent everybody.
Politics cannot accomplish that with tax bands.
Sculpture is ambitious.
Trafalgar Square provides excellent surroundings because it already contains extremely confident statues of military men.
They have horses.
Swords.
Columns.
Names carved in stone.
Then contemporary art arrives and says:
"Here is a person from now."
The old statues must be furious.
Nelson has spent two centuries on a pole.
New artwork rotates every few years and receives international press.
"You call that job security?"
Public sculpture also demonstrates how radically tastes change.
Victorians liked generals.
Modern cities like conversation starters.
Future London may erect statues of people staring at phones.
No pedestal necessary.
Just bronze figures standing outside Pret blocking the pavement.
The Fourth Plinth programme is deliberately temporary, allowing different artists and ideas to occupy the space.
That makes the site dynamic and ensures Britain can argue about a fresh object on schedule.
National unity requires predictable disagreement.
Without public art and weather, strangers might never speak.
"You seen that thing in Trafalgar Square?"
"Yes."
"What do you think?"
"Ridiculous."
Friendship begins.
Tourists love Trafalgar Square because it compresses British history into one photograph.
Nelson.
National Gallery.
Lions.
Pigeons.
Bus.
Someone dressed as Yoda levitating using a metal frame everyone can see.
Adding contemporary art merely completes the national timeline.
The work's "everywoman" concept may prompt conversations about representation, modern urban life and who traditionally gets commemorated in monumental spaces.
Those are serious artistic questions.
London residents will inevitably add another:
"Why's she up there?"
Public art needs both reactions.
Scholarship from critics.
Confusion from taxi drivers.
Otherwise it becomes private art outdoors.
The Fourth Plinth's greatest success may be that London still notices it.
Cities are visually noisy.
Signs, screens, traffic, towers, adverts.
Getting a commuter to look up from a phone for five seconds is practically Renaissance patronage.
So congratulations to everywoman.
She has achieved what few living Londoners can.
She found somewhere in central London to stand without paying rent. https://prat.uk/trafalgar-square-unveils-everywoman-sculpture-londoners-immediately-ask-whether-she-can-watch-their-bag/
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