Andy Richardson: Striking the balance between public interest and offensive
It’s been just under a week since protestors toppled a statue of British slave trader Edward Colston. A debate had raged for years over the appropriateness of the memorial to a man who was responsible for removing 100,000 people from Africa to the Caribbean as slaves. They were branded across their chest with the name of the company he ran and of those 100,000, 20,000 died en route. Their bodies were thrown into the sea.
Could it be true that removing the Colston statue in Bristol educated more people over a single weekend than it did during the 150 years it stood? As anti-racism protests show no sign of abating, Britain has to look at its own unsavoury past. The International Slavery Museum, in Liverpool, for instance, increases the understanding of transatlantic chattel and other forms of enslavement. Perhaps the Colston statue will find a new home there?
A new debate has opened about other statues around the world and in Virginia, USA, the governor has ordered a statue of Confederate General Robert E Lee to be removed amid protests against racial injustice.
Back home, other statues are vulnerable. As the killing of George Floyd prompts Britain to confront its racist past, there is much to debate. From Derbyshire to Edinburgh, from Cardiff to Oxford, those we once honoured are no longer revered.
Closer to home, a petition has been launched to take down the statue of Robert Clive, known as the Clive of India, in The Square in Shrewsbury, Shropshire, which described the 18th century figure as “nothing more than an figure of oppression and white supremacy”.
These things matter because they say so much about who we welcome to our civic spaces. How can we say black, Asian and minority ethnic groups, or women, are truly welcomed when the figures towering over them are frequently male icons of racism and hate? There are too many who are remembered for reasons of power or wealth, rather than compassion, equality or peace.
Targeting statues that honour the dishonourable is not a new thing. As far back as 2015, protestors in South Africa were campaigning against figures like Cecil Rhodes, the British diamond magnate, colonial politician and avowed white supremacist. The argument that we cannot question historical figures by 21st standards because they were a product of their time shows a lack of progress.
We are perfectly capable of reflecting on social mores in a peaceful fashion. Take the remarkable knife angel, for instance, that was created by sculptor Alfie Bradley at the British Ironwork Centre, near Oswestry, from 100,000 knife blades donated by British police forces across the UK. Earlier this year, the Angel was taken on a British peace tour to educate communities about the negative effects of violent behaviour.
In Wolverhampton, artist Kevin Atherton created an Iron Horse in painted steel. It couldn’t be more fitting for the Black Country – after all, we love ‘osses. Statues of Billy Wright, Stan Cullis and Sir Jack Hayward reflect the sporting achievements of popular heroes. Numerous war memorials honour the sacrifice of those who fell during two world wars while the region’s unique heritage is never more apparent than in Victoria Park, in Tipton, which has a statue to William Perry. Perry, a 6ft, 13st 7lbs brawler, was the British heavyweight prize fighting champion who became the landlord of the Bricklayer’s Arms, in Wolverhampton, following his retirement. Apparently, there were never any dust-ups with locals, though the Tipton Slasher eventually succumbed to alcoholism.
In Telford, a sculpture to Shropshire’s 18th century surveyor of public works is popular. The 3m high bronze recognises the achievements of a man who was one of the key figures in the British industrial revolution and had a huge impact on the county’s infrastructure and architecture.
Modern sculptures tend to amuse, rather than offend. The Cannonballs, Cannon, Crucible and Plough at Castle Gate Island, in Dudley, are a case in point, as is Shrewsbury’s memorium to Darwin, which was created in 2009. Named The Quantum Leap, the sculpture celebrates Shropshire’s geological diversity, including 10 or the 12 geological periods. It does, however, bear an unfortunate resemblance to a slinky and may have cost more than five times the original £200,000 budget. Oh, and lest we forget, at one point contractors were called in to do emergency repairs when one of the sculpture’s pieces was out by around 18 inches. While Newcastle-upon-Tyne got the much larger and more renowned Angel of the North, Shrewsbury got a concrete thing that looked like a giant springy.
More public artworks will likely be removed before the present protests end, though it’s to be hoped public officials will listen to protests and make those decisions lawfully. They must strike the balance between artworks that are in the public interest and reflect our heritage – and those that are plain offensive.
