Miss Mao, Richmond's giant chrome head of Lenin with a girlish Chinese communist leader balancing on top, created a stir for all the wrong reasons.
Critics complained the art celebrated two powerful symbols of 20th Century tyranny, and that a Vancouver suburb was an inappropriate venue.
Frankly, anything would improve the depressing intersection of Alderbridge and Elmbridge Way, with its big box blight and the empty gravel lot where the sculpture stands.
What would have made Miss Mao truly subversive is if they had built a swing set and slide into it so kids living in the adjacent condos might actually have some public space to play in.
Then there is the shapeless stainless steel lump at the corner of Granville Street & Georgia, named Artificial Rock #143. I have a better handle for it - "King Kong's Lost Filling."
Apparently it is meant to symbolize man's connection with nature, but its greatest achievement is that it almost makes the TD Tower next to it look attractive.
Metro Vancouver has a spotty track record with public art displays, but to be fair, the art is usually just as mediocre as the architecture that surrounds it.
Take for example the tangled brass fixture in front of the Terasen building at Thurlow and West Georgia. The sculpture is forgettable, but the building beside it is a gaudy expression of Gordon Gecko-era corporatism.
The Vancouver Biennale is a welcome celebration of public art, and we must give the organizers credit for creating discussion around one of its pieces each time out.
Remember its "Device to Root Out Evil" down at Coal Harbour that the Park Board decided to spike? Well, Calgarians must be a little less uptight than us because the upside-down church now makes its home in Alberta.
The Biennale also brought us the row of stop signs situated in Vanier and Charleson Parks, but most people just shrugged them off. There was none of the controversy like the city had seen in past.
Some will recall the huge row over the Terry Fox Memorial situated at BC Place. The hodgepodge is described as "a postmodern interpretation of the triumphal arches of Rome," but it really looks more like a crypt on stilts guarded by plastic lions.
Years ago people raged at the memorial sculpture in the centre of Seaforth Peace Park. Two decades on it still looks like the city's most expensive birdbath. Perhaps the only compelling emblem by a local artist in advance of the 2010 Games was the witty abstraction of the Olympic rings symbol made into a series of four sad faces and a smiley one. But rather than embracing the piece as the mildest form of anti-Games dissent, the city's thought police quickly painted it over.
Instead of leaping from one controversy to the next, we should make the arts as much a part of the school curricula as the Three Rs, and foster creative talent at home.
I shudder to think that when it comes to public art, Vancouver will be best known for fiberglass orcas, eagles and bears.
What would have made Miss Mao truly subversive is if they had built a swing set and slide into it so kids living in the adjacent condos might actually have some public space to play in.
READ MORE OF MIKE KLASSEN'S MUSINGS AT WWW.CITYCAUCUS.COM
