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        John Crawford's Queens College Marker: The Abstraction of Ideas and the 
        Idea of the Abstract Monument 
        by Herbert R. Hartel, Jr. 
      
         
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      Slender yet towering, massive yet elegant, John 
        Crawford's Queens College Marker is a monument's monument. When 
        erected on the campus of Queens College in Flushing, New York, in August 
        of 1994, it instantly became, at nearly 27 feet and 75,000 pounds, one 
        of the largest public sculptures in New York City. It engages the functions 
        of commemoration, awareness, and enlightenment that monuments are expected 
        to perform, but also adopts less conventional purposes and meanings, particularly 
        the experience of abstract form and philosophical speculation, that might 
        be considered the realm of high modernism but not public memorials. Completely 
        non-representational and essentially Minimalist in spirit, Crawford's 
        column could become a test case of the viability of abstraction as meaningful 
        public art in the aftermath of controversies surrounding public art projects 
        that have included, among others, Richard Serra's Tilted Arc. In 
        also continues a tradition of symbolic, expressive meaning in Minimalism 
        long after the movement ceased to dominate what was considered radical 
        in the visual arts, as seen in such well-known works as Maya Lin's Vietnam 
        Veterans Memorial.  
       Queens College Marker is a column formed 
        by three vertically stacked blocks of solid carbon steel that are unpainted, 
        unpolished, and in the process of rusting. At 26.5 feet in height, the 
        column is nearly three stories tall. Each block is nearly equal in length 
        to the others, and all are vaguely oval in their cross-sections. The column 
        never exceeds three feet in width. It is placed in the center of a slightly 
        convex, circular mound of grass twenty feet in diameter. This area of 
        grass is located in a concrete walkway which constitutes a small plaza 
        sandwiched between two large buildings on the campus, Rosenthal Library 
        (to the west) and Powdermaker Hall (to the east). This plaza is located 
        in the middle of a north-south axis of pedestrian traffic established 
        by entrances on opposite ends of the campus. Several feet to the west 
        of the sculpture but still located on the circle of grass are five boulders, 
        each one approximately two feet high and three to four feet in width. 
        Crawford has said that "there is a lot of 
        sculptural poetry in how things are joined together. This installation 
        is not about tightening a few bolts." 1 
        The bottom segment of the sculpture, forged without benefit of machinery 
        which would create streamlined planes and contours, is a broad, squat 
        form, whose surface curves continually with no hard edges. This piece, 
        the least rusted of the three, is a dark gray, with scratch-like patches 
        of glowing orange rust scattered across its surface. The transitions from 
        segment to segment are accomplished by abutting or interpenetrating the 
        columns at different places along their bottom or top edges. Where two 
        segments abut and one hangs over the other slightly, the steel has been 
        rough- or hand-forged (it has not been shaped with machines); where two 
        segments smoothly interlock, the steel has been smooth-or machine-forged 
        (it has been shaped by machine).2 The middle 
        segment has been forged in both ways. Three planar areas have been cut 
        down its eastern side. This gives this segment a leaner, more streamlined 
        quality, a sensation of rapid motion that helps to draw your eye farther 
        upward. The western side of this segment is continuously curved and is 
        oxidized to a rich orange hue. The top segment is entirely smooth-forged, 
        making it the sleekest, most geometric, most mechanical part of the sculpture. 
        Its entire surface is oxidized to a rich orange, making it seem the brightest 
        in hue. Five planar surfaces have been cut down its sides. 
        By being placed slightly off-center in a major 
        walkway on the campus, this steel tower can be seen so intimately that 
        the viewer can walk up and touch it, or it can be seen as remotely as 
        two hundred feet away. It can also be seen in fragments from many windows 
        in the two buildings which flank it. Although the fragmentary window views 
        do intrigue, they are not very satisfying because the full impact of the 
        work depends on viewing it in its entirety. From any distance the sculpture 
        adamantly yet gracefully makes its existence known. The solemn, poignant 
        presence of the sculpture cannot be ignored as it towers in the otherwise 
        bland but functional plaza. 
      
         
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      The proximity of the walkway affords convenient 
        views at ten to twenty feet away. When viewed from this distance, one 
        can achieve the most engaging sculptural experience the work permits. 
        The shifting orientation of the three segments, their variety of planar 
        surfaces, colors, and textures, and the transition from a rough-forged 
        surface at the bottom to a smooth-forged one at the top are visually exciting 
        and absorbing, offering a wide range of beautiful abstract sculptural 
        experiences. The possibilities are expanded by walking slowly around the 
        sculpture as you look at it continuously or repeatedly. In doing this 
        the work takes on new life, for changes in perspective provide changes 
        in shape, size, and the arrangement of forms. The marker seems to soar 
        to the sky, even though it is also firmly rooted in the soil. It seems 
        to twist in different directions from segment to segment, yet it is motionless. 
        Its steel surfaces can be dismally gray or brightly orange, as changes 
        in light alter changes in mood. At a distance of a few hundred feet the 
        sculpture is sometimes distilled to a dark silhouette. This effect is 
        especially noticeable at twilight or at night. 
        Crawford was born in 1953 in New York City to an 
        artistically-inclined family. His father was the Precisionist painter 
        Rawlston Crawford and his mother and two brothers are photographers.3 
        Ironically, Crawford gravitated toward sculpture, but a difference in 
        media does not assume a difference in sensibility. Crawford would agree, 
        for he credits his father with instilling in him a fascination with visual 
        structure and the belief that structure is essential to meaning.4 
        Crawford earned a B.F.A. in sculpture from the Rhode Island School of 
        Design in 1976 and then worked as an apprentice to blacksmiths in Italy 
        for ten years. As an apprentice blacksmith, Crawford learned pre-industrial, 
        manual techniques of working with metals in a sixteenth century, water-powered 
        forge, where he made farming tools.5 
        Before apprenticing as a blacksmith, Crawford built 
        abstract figures out of wood logs.6 Crawford 
        said that he chose to learn blacksmithing because he has long been interested 
        in tools.7 In Italy, Crawford began to work 
        in iron (in return for his services to the blacksmiths he was able to 
        use the forge to make his own sculptures), and his work of this period 
        includes pieces which reflect the look and function of farm tools and 
        others which are more architectural in style. The architectural objects 
        include arched forms, forms held together by tension or compression, and 
        forms held together with iron pins serving as joints. They typically include 
        bold arrangements of a few block- or rod-like pieces of iron reaching 
        in various directions. Much of Crawford's work reveals his keen interest 
        in the physical characteristics of materials, and in the architectural, 
        mechanical, and industrial. Crawford's interest in structure extends beyond 
        the man-made to that found in nature, such as the structure of minerals, 
        including the geometric structure of iron pyrite crystals, which can be 
        described as fractals. These structures are evident in the spatial arrangements 
        of some of Crawford's sculptures. These visual explorations of structure 
        are for Crawford an attempt to find order and harmony in life. Important 
        examples of Crawford's work in iron prior to the Markers include 3 
        Legged Arch #7 (1984) and Braced Form #16 (1984-86). 
        Queens College Marker was commissioned by 
        Queens College for its Benjamin Rosenthal Library, which opened in 1988, 
        in fulfillment of the Percent for Art Program of New York City. The committee 
        established to obtain art for the Rosenthal Library, headed by chief art 
        librarian Suzanna Simor, considered 11,000 artists and solicited 150 proposals 
        before choosing the proposal submitted by Crawford.8 
        The cost of the project was $100,000.9 The sculpture 
        was constructed at Scot Forge in Spring Grove, Illinois, where it was 
        initially forged, and then at the Rose Corporation in Reading, Pennsylvania, 
        where the process of forging was completed.10 
        Queens College Marker is less commonly known as Marker I-4, 
        which for the sculptor means the fourth marker he has made in iron.11 
        Although the sculpture was installed as its basic design was described 
        by Crawford in his original proposal, as "a tower of forged, machined 
        billets of steel" with "three interlocking pieces," it 
        underwent considerable change before installation. Crawford originally 
        planned for it to be placed on the opposite side of the library, in a 
        ravine one-story deep on the northwest corner of the building which flanks 
        the windows of the reading room in the first floor.12 
        At one time he also intended the sculpture to consist of four segments. 
        Crawford wanted one connection point visible to the viewers in the reading 
        room of each floor (they are directly overhead from floor to floor) as 
        the sculpture rose alongside the building to the fourth floor.13 
        Crawford thinks this plan had intriguing possibilities, but has no regrets 
        that the committee eventually decided to relocate the sculpture, a decision 
        which led him to drop the four-segment design in favor of the three-segment 
        plan.14 Both decisions proved to be wise ones. 
        The original location for this work is secluded; no matter how effective 
        it may have been there, it would have been experienced by far fewer people. 
        If the sculpture consisted of four segments and therefore would have been 
        appropriately longer, it might have become disconcertingly tall. 
       Queens College Marker is part of a series 
        of sculptures Crawford calls Markers, which he began making in the late 
        1980s. Crawford has made several markers in iron, tin, and wood. Some 
        are as small as scale models while many range in size from four to seven 
        feet tall. These works frequently consist of a few block- or slab-like 
        forms that are sometimes juxtaposed with or held aloft by a few rod-like 
        forms. The works feature both human and architectural proportions and 
        offer a rich array of abstract sculptural experiences due to the forthright 
        and intimate arrangements of their blunt, faintly geometric forms. Crawford's 
        first monumental, site-specific markers were the sculptures he designed 
        for Amherst College in 1990. These works are called Markers because they 
        refer to the desire of all people to produce enduring evidence of their 
        existence for those who follow them; as Crawford says "the desire 
        to leave your mark is very strong."15 The 
        sculptures have been more profoundly and obviously influenced by prehistoric, 
        northern European stone monuments such as Stonehenge, the Dolmens, and 
        the Stone Circles of Carnac. Crawford says "the megaliths are for 
        me a poetic tool for understanding the world and man's self-appointed 
        centrality in that order, and the fractal structures are a less egocentric 
        form for that same understanding. We are each the center of a universe 
        and at the same time peripheral participants in immense patterns."16 
        He says he "wants you to see these expressions as humanity trying 
        to place itself, trying to derive meaning from all this."17 
        Crawford wants Queens College Marker to 
        be appreciated for the sculptural experience it provides as well as for 
        the spiritual, philosophical meanings it contains, meanings which originated 
        in his oeuvre in the earlier Markers. He has described the sculpture at 
        Queens College as "a visual poem" that "holds the space" 
        of the plaza.18 However, in his proposal for 
        the project, the sculptor clearly intended a more symbolic meaning as 
        well. He writes that the three segments and their transition from rough-forged 
        to smooth-forged "are a metaphor for a journey, be it life, education, 
        enlightenment. The tower is also a marker, a cairn on a mountain path, 
        a symbol of a man's accomplishments--his attempts to define himself and 
        place himself and leave evidence thereof for those who follow." 19 
        The shift from rough-hewn to smooth-contoured clearly symbolizes transformation 
        and transition. It is possible to think of this as a shift toward more 
        advanced technology and increased industrialization, and thus the work 
        can become a metaphor for a broad theme in world history. Located on a 
        college campus, between the library and the building that houses most 
        of the social sciences departments, this symbolism acquires certain other 
        connotations. A shift toward greater refinement alludes to learning, to 
        sharpening or "refining" one's mind, to acquiring greater knowledge 
        and understanding. Crawford would not deny these meanings, but he would 
        discourage the viewer from ever dwelling on them because he thinks that 
        to emphasize any singular, literal meaning diminishes the aesthetic experience 
        of the sculpture. The great virtue of Queens College Marker is 
        that various meanings, aesthetic as well as thematic, are completely unified 
        and delicately balanced in powerful abstract form.  
        A mammoth form of rusting steel as public art would 
        automatically bring to mind Richard Serra's Tilted Arc. Crawford 
        acknowledges that he and Serra use similar materials, but insists that 
        he is dealing with a different set of ideas. How will Crawford's work 
        be received and understood, in the aftermath of this infamous controversy 
        of public art? To date no objections have apparently been voiced, and 
        with good reason, for Crawford's work offers a strong argument for a pleasurable, 
        engaging aesthetic experience made possible by rusting metal. Unlike Tilted 
        Arc, this sculpture has been placed in an area of this walkway that 
        would not receive pedestrian traffic and because of its narrow width it 
        does not obstruct the view of surrounding buildings. It is placed to the 
        side of the pedestrian pathway; it cannot be ignored yet it does not impede 
        activity and movement. 
        The sculptor has said that "hopefully people 
        will see something in this [Queens College Marker] that gives them 
        a sense of beauty and order." 20 Such meanings 
        are also fundamental to the prehistoric monuments so important to Crawford's 
        thinking. Stonehenge, for instance, may have been a clock, and 
        thus it was a tool--keeping in mind tools are also of interest to Crawford--for 
        understanding time. Crawford's Markers are meditative forms, and 
        the Queens College Marker is especially so. Moreover, it is solemn, 
        poignant, and even somewhat melancholy. This quality originates in the 
        deliberately rusting surface, which metaphorically alludes to the passage 
        of time and the fading of all things into nothingness that is a function 
        of time. Since the Markers are deliberate attempts to make known 
        the existence of the generic someone or something at any one time or place, 
        then the Marker at Queens College fully embraces the function of 
        commemoration that all monuments since the dawn of civilization have been 
        expected to perform. However, the metaphoric implications of the rusting 
        surface indicate that monuments and markers are caught in a battle they 
        can never win; they try to preserve that which is unpreservable and to 
        make eternal that which is transitory. According to Crawford, the rusting 
        alludes to humanity's "way of falling apart." 21 
        Thus a tone of melancholy persists, and such melancholy is foreign to 
        public monuments, since it self-destroys the purpose for which the monuments 
        were originally created. However, the work is not entirely pessimistic 
        in meaning, for through its very presence in the plaza, Queens College 
        Marker fights to preserve the possibility of commemoration, to reject 
        the disappearance of all things in time. Crawford has said that "hopefully, 
        this will be a focal point, a marker that will help recall monuments."22 
        The sculpture reminds us that ultimately all monuments are markers in 
        purpose and spirit. Since it purifies and embodies the concept of commemoration 
        that is fundamental to monuments as a human endeavor of prehistoric origin, 
        Queens College Marker is a monument's monument, for it monumentalizes 
        the commemorative and it commemorates the monumental. 
       References: 
       1. Queens College press release on Marker I-4. 
      2. John Crawford in an interview with the author 
        conducted in Dec. 1994.  
      3. Ibid.  
      4. Ibid.  
      5. Nadelman, Cynthia, John Crawford: Markers 
        (New York: Sculpture Center, 1990), n.p.; Queens College press release 
        on Marker I-4.  
      6. Marilyn J. Fox, "Industrial Strength Art" in 
        Reading Eagle [Reading, PA] (Aug. 14, 1994), p. F6.  
      7. John Crawford in an interview with the author 
        conducted in Dec. 1994.  
      8. Steve Green, "Campus Welcomes New Sculpture." 
        in QC Quad. (Sept. 9, 1994), p. 3.  
      9. Ibid.  
      10. Marilyn J. Fox, "Industrial Strength Art" in 
        Reading Eagle [Reading, PA] (Aug. 14, 1994), p. F6.  
      11. John Crawford in an interview with the author 
        conducted in Dec. 1994.  
      12. Ibid.  
      13. Ibid.  
      14. Ibid.  
      15. Ibid.  
      16. Timothy J. Segar, Amherst Markers (Amherst, 
        MA), n.p.  
      17. John Crawford in an interview with the author 
        conducted in Dec. 1994.  
      18. Ibid.  
      19. Marilyn J. Fox, "Industrial Strength Art" in 
        Reading Eagle [Reading, PA] (Aug. 14, 1994), p. F6.  
      20. Queens College press release on Marker I-4. 
         
      21. Marilyn J. Fox, "Industrial Strength Art" in 
        Reading Eagle [Reading, PA] (Aug. 14, 1994), p. F6.  
      22. Bonnie Yee, "College Gets 'Marker'" in New 
        York Newsday (Sept. 11, 1994), n.p. 
            
      © 
        2000 Part and Herbert R. Hartel, Jr. All Rights Reserved.  
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