It's a tale as old as time, isn't it? Grand public art, adorning a building for decades, only to be forgotten until the wrecking ball looms. This is precisely the story of the eight magnificent relief sculptures that once graced the facade of the old Wells Fargo bank building in Salem. For 70 years, these marble masterpieces, each a substantial 5 feet tall and 6 feet wide, stood sentinel high above the bustling street, largely unseen and unappreciated. It’s a poignant reminder of how easily we can overlook the artistic treasures embedded in our urban landscapes.
The Unveiling: A Second Chance at Appreciation
What makes this story particularly fascinating is the dramatic shift in perception that occurred when the building was slated for demolition in 2017. Suddenly, these once-distant adornments were brought down to earth, revealing their intricate details to a public that had previously only glimpsed them from afar. Personally, I think this highlights a fundamental human tendency: we often fail to truly see what's right in front of us until it’s threatened or removed. The consultant involved, Tim Hovet, noted the widespread "Wow, that's really cool" reaction upon seeing them at ground level. It’s a testament to the power of scale and proximity in art appreciation. What this suggests is that perhaps we need more opportunities to bring art out of its elevated, often inaccessible, positions to foster a deeper connection with it.
The Artist's Vision: A Tribute to the Willamette Valley
These weren't just random carvings; they were the work of Frederic Littman, an artist who clearly poured his admiration for the Pacific Northwest into his creations. Commissioned by the First National Bank, Littman envisioned these reliefs as a "stimulating opportunity to pay tribute to the well-rounded, varied life of the Willamette Valley." He spoke of his admiration for the region's natural resources and the "dynamic yet serene life" of its people. In my opinion, this connection between art and place is incredibly powerful. It’s not just about aesthetics; it’s about capturing the spirit and essence of a community. The sculptures depicted a rich tapestry of local life, from the hop picker and logger to livestock and industry, essentially serving as vertical storyboards of the region's heritage.
The Herculean Task of Preservation
Removing these 2,500-pound marble sculptures was no small feat. It’s a detail that immediately stands out – the sheer logistical challenge involved. Many contractors shied away, unwilling or unable to handle the delicate operation. Finding a company with the expertise to work with stone, like Bella Pietra Marble and Granite, was crucial. What many people don't realize is the engineering and careful planning required for such a task. The fact that they were secured with copper wire pins and perched precariously on a narrow lip, as Hovet discovered, is frankly astonishing and, frankly, a little terrifying. It makes you wonder about the building codes and safety standards of the past! The fact that they were removed without damage over three days is a remarkable achievement, a testament to skilled craftsmanship.
A Lingering Question: Where Do They Belong?
This brings us to the most pressing aspect of the story: their current whereabouts. Despite being preserved as a condition of the demolition, these stunning pieces of art are currently under wraps in a Portland-area warehouse. The property where the bank once stood remains an undeveloped lot, a vacant pit on the corner of Liberty and Chemeketa streets. Personally, I find this situation incredibly frustrating. These sculptures were appraised at over $220,000, a significant investment and a valuable cultural asset. The initial hope was to donate them to a nonprofit, educational, or government entity, but discussions with Portland State University stalled due to the lack of funding for display and maintenance. This raises a deeper question about our societal commitment to public art: are we willing to invest in its preservation and display, or do we relegate it to storage?
The Future of Forgotten Art
The current proposal for a surface parking lot at the site further complicates matters, making public display challenging. From my perspective, this is a missed opportunity of epic proportions. These are not just heavy blocks of stone; they are historical documents, artistic expressions, and a tangible link to Salem's past. Hovet's hope that they can be "safe and at some point, can be appreciated for what they are" resonates deeply. What this situation truly suggests is a need for more proactive strategies in art preservation and a more robust public dialogue about the value and integration of art in our communities. Perhaps it's time for a renewed push to find a permanent, visible home for these forgotten treasures, allowing them to tell their stories once more.
What do you think should happen to these sculptures? Should they be re-installed in a new development, or perhaps find a home in a museum or public park? I'd love to hear your thoughts!
