Modernism spawned a certain totalitarianism and few artists with any claim to modernity and contemporanaeity carried out public art works. They felt that it would demand some adjustment to their normal practice, if only to respond to the brief of the commission and the context in which the work was to be placed. Also, given the controversies that attended most public art commissions at this time, the work risked being subjected to vilification, if not, physical attack. As Arthur Danto, art critic of the US magazine 'The Nation', has said, "It is the pre-emption of public spaces by an art that is indifferent, if not hostile, to human needs that has aroused such partisan passions." (8) There are examples where the controversy that surrounded a publicly commissioned sculpture has died away and the work has survived. In many of these cases the works have established themselves, not so much for their meaning, but because of the worldwide fame of the artists. In 1965 the 'Chicago Picasso', as it is known, ('Head of a Woman'), was unveiled amidst an enormous controversy. Now it is something with which the people of Chicago identify and by which the city promotes itself in tourist posters and brochures. It has become a potent symbol of a progressive city with claims to high cultural and intellectual standing. Within a short walk of the Picasso are works by Calder, Chagall, Dubuffet and Miro. In Grande Rapids, Michigan, Calder's 'La Grande Vitesse' survived a similar controversy to become the logo of the city, to be found on council notepaper and emblazoned on city council vehicles. Notwithstanding the title of Calder's work in Grande Rapids, none of these works attempt in any way to relate to the context of their sites. They are in form and concept not different from the studio practice of the artists. They are, in effect, 'art in public places.' There are instances in which works, which were intended to be permanent, have been removed from their sites. Two examples of this type of controversy during the 1980's were Ron Robertson Swan's 'Vault', removed from Melbourne's city square and, the most infamous of all, Richard Serra's 'Tilted Arc' removed from Federal Plaza in Lower Manhattan. Both were major setbacks for the notion of 'art in public places' brought about by the insensitive attitudes of the artists and the commissioning bodies that were responsible for instituting and placing these works. W.T.J. Mitchell suggests in the introduction to his book, 'Art in the Public Sphere', that the controversy surrounding the Richard Serra work could be seen "as a signal that modernism can no longer mediate public and private spheres on its own terms, but must submit itself to social negotiation, and anticipate reactions ranging from violence to indifference." (9) There arose in both cases sufficient public opposition to have the works removed. Other works of this nature remain in forlorn states, badly treated, covered in posters and graffiti and suffering from such a lack of maintenance that the works are no longer the works as they were originally intended. On the other hand where these kinds of works are located in new 'public' spaces, created as part of huge office developments or shopping malls, which include a high degree of security and therefore become 'regulated' spaces, they survive relatively unscathed. Richard Serra's 'Fulcrum' in Broadgate in London, is one such example. Alloway laconically suggests that "If a work can be reached it will be defaced. If the subsequent changes reduce the level of information of the work, it was not a public work to start with." He goes on: "A public sculpture should be invulnerable or inaccessible. It should have the material strength to resist attack or be easily cleanable, but it also needs a formal structure that is not wrecked by alteration." In a note to his essay he presciently suggests: " Another solution to the problem of public sculpture is expendability; however I am deferring here to the convention of solid materials and longish duration as the proper state of sculpture. Nonetheless, loose, scattered, changeable, growing pieces, with anticipated temporal limits, should not be left out of account." (10)

It is the use of terms such as 'art in public places' that clearly signify a resistance to the whole notion of anything called public art. The argument has been well-rehearsed - all art is public and it is therefore unnecessary to distinguish a certain art practice as more public than any other. Galleries and museums are public places open to anyone. Streets and squares are public places and artists should not be required to adjust their practice and treat them any differently to galleries and museums. To do so would impose limitations on the freedom of the artist and therefore on artistic expression. One of the problems with this approach is that while the vast majority of people are more or less willing to let artists get on with what they do within the confines of the gallery, when that is imposed on them in their streets, there is a justifiable sense of resentment. This is no good for anyone; not for art, for artists or the range of non-art specialist publics that make up the majority of society.