Adding a park around ‘54 Columns’ maximizes interest in the minimalist art

54 Columns Park, as it is now called, is the result of two years of work by the Old Fourth Ward Neighborhood Association, with funding from Fulton County, Park Pride, Perennial Properties and others, according to the website Urbanize Atlanta. Funding from the Mark Taylor family, who initiated the project and members of which spoke at the ribbon-cutting ceremony, was also key.

Credit: Photo by Arthur Rudick

Credit: Photo by Arthur Rudick

Remarks by various other dignitaries from the new stone block stage, followed by songs from the Midtown High School Chorus, provided the sense that “54 Columns” is a valuable art asset for Atlanta that is now embraced by the community. But it was not always like that.

I lived in Atlanta’s Old Fourth Ward in 2017 and 2018, and I often drove past what looked like an overgrown, abandoned construction site. I was not alone in thinking this, and some people unaware of the current redesign might be surprised to see it now. Instagram user @lyiness told me: “Yo, when I was a young adult, I bought weed in the apartments next door, and I always thought that was where someone just stopped building a house. … It’s art?”

The site has been contentious — perhaps misunderstood — from its installation, and I, too, was surprised when I learned it was intended as art. But years later, my mind was changed in an instant.

Making an artistic statement from concrete blocks

The large-scale public artwork by minimalist and conceptual art pioneer Sol LeWitt was installed in 1999. As the name implies, it consists of 54 square columns ranging from 10 to 20 feet in height in an irregular grid arranged roughly in a triangle measuring 112 by 176 feet. The columns are constructed of concrete masonry units (CMUs), also known as common concrete blocks. The sculpture was a gift to the people of Fulton County by the Taylor family, with help from the High Museum of Art.

LeWitt had been a pioneer of minimalist sculpture using industrial materials beginning in the early 1960s. Much of his work derived from the shape of the cube, and, over the decades, LeWitt sought to strip away all forms of expressiveness to make art as a pure concept rather than a mere object. In 1990, he began stacking concrete blocks in various public sculptures, including two installations in Miami’s design district. All of these works were conceived as variations on the same theme.

Starting in the mid-1980s, Fulton County spent 12 years developing and approving a public arts plan and another three years implementing the plan. At that time, property developer Chuck Taylor was the founding chair of the Fulton County Public Art program.

Credit: Photo by Mike Jensen

Credit: Photo by Mike Jensen

“Wouldn’t it be fun for the first major piece of art in Fulton County to be something on Dad’s land that he had wanted to do a project with?” Taylor asked in an interview recalling his family’s spearheading of the project. LeWitt was a friend of Taylor’s parents, Mark and Judith Taylor, who had worked with LeWitt to do the monumental “Wall Drawing #729, Irregular Color Bands,” currently installed in the Robinson Atrium in the High Museum of Art’s Stent Family Wing.

“Sol said ‘I’ll do it,’” said Taylor. “Sol in fact waived his hefty fee as a favor to my father.”

LeWitt’s first design resembled a huge pyramid split apart at an angle (but not cleanly) then turned on its side. Fearing that the split might provide a path for kids to climb the sculpture and potentially plummet 40 feet to the ground, Fulton County rejected the first design. LeWitt’s second design was accepted.

The pillars were intended to loosely mirror the Atlanta skyline, which was originally visible from the site before trees grew to obscure the view. LeWitt often combined aspects of art and architecture into his work, and “54 Columns” is a prime example. The year after its installation, it was rated as one of the top 24 public art projects by Art in America.

Credit: Photo by Arthur Rudick

Credit: Photo by Arthur Rudick

Public pushback began almost immediately. At a time when Old Fourth Ward was suffering from the effects of decades of neglect, white flight and redlining, the surrounding community voiced several fears: that the sculpture would harbor drug use and prostitution (there was a crack house two lots away), that it represented gentrification forced onto the neighborhood from the outside and that the unfinished appearance of the concrete blocks was unattractive.

Gregor Turk, artist and Fulton County public art coordinator at the time, relayed how LeWitt addressed that last concern: “A request was made by a community panel to have LeWitt paint the columns like his colorful interior wall painting at the High Museum. He refused. The panel came back asking him to at least paint the columns a solid color. He acquiesced by agreeing to stain the columns. He selected a gray stain that matched the color of the concrete.”

In 2003, disgruntled neighbors planted dogwood trees among the columns to hide them. The city ruled that “the trees spoiled the sanctity of LeWitt’s installation,” and they were taken out. Over the years, pranksters have painted columns pink and decorated them for various holidays.

But for as much confusion and outrage as the work has occasioned, it has also been a source of inspiration and delight. Instagram user @grinstaiam said, “Found it randomly when I was younger and I thought I was so cool for knowing about it.” And @caveal added cheekily: “Number 42 is my fav column!” “54 Columns” has also been chosen as the site for several art events — for example, a performance by Sonic Generator and gloATL in 2016.

Before revitalization, sculpture site looked like a vacant lot

My own transformative moment came in 2022, when I attended a celebration of life event for the late Atlanta artist Alex Dreher at “54 Columns.” Alex’s father, Joe Dreher, also an Atlanta artist, chose “54 Columns” as the site for his son’s remembrance because that’s where Alex and his friends used to go to relax and to reflect. Flowers, fruit, photos of the departed and bowls of his favorite treats were placed at the bases of the uprights.

Credit: Photo by Joe Dreher

Credit: Photo by Joe Dreher

I was overwhelmed by the surreal beauty and serenity of the idyllic site. Form transcended material as the soaring columns drew my eyes up toward the sky like the pillars inside a European cathedral. I became such a fan of LeWitt’s masterwork that I was inspired to write the Wikipedia entry for ″54 Columns.” And as a final piece of connective tissue, Joe Dreher was one of the artists who reinstalled LeWitt’s wall painting at the High Museum in 2018.

This was all before the recent renovation, when there was no denying that the plot of land hosting “54 Columns” was otherwise little more than a vacant lot.

In 2021, as part of a wider plan to beautify the neighborhood, President of Fourth Ward Neighbors Tom Boyle and Vice President Hollis Wise had only a sketch of the proposed improvements to the property. “We didn’t really know the cost at the time,” Boyle acknowledged. Nevertheless they stood at the site and made a pitch for $100,000 to refurbish the park to Chairman of the Fulton County Board of Commissioners Robb Pitts, who responded, “If I can’t get $100,000 for a worthwhile project, then I don’t deserve to be here.”

The upgrade was approved in 2022 and was completed this year, turning a nearly vacant lot into a beautiful park with “54 Columns” as its crown jewel. My personal “54 Columns” story was a multiyear journey of discovery ending with my beloved artwork receiving the setting it deserves. In the words of Atlanta City Councilman Amir Farokhi, the renovation “has transformed this site from a question mark to an exclamation point.”

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Arthur Rudick created the Atlanta Street Art Map in 2017 after retiring from a successful career as an engineer with Eastman Kodak and the Coca-Cola Company. His first experience of art was seeing an Alexander Calder mobile as a child in the Pittsburgh airport. Rudick is ArtsATL’s street art expert and a regular contributor.

Credit: ArtsATL

Credit: ArtsATL

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