Statue Darwinism

    Sometimes it's hard to predict which statues will prevail.  As a bust of Abe Lincoln sits with a broken nose down by the river (and suspiciously near a giant fist); over $60,000 has been raised, in just over a week, to construct a statue of Robocop in Detroit.  And although most of the arguments, for and against, have already been made, and the story has been covered by everyone from NPR to the New York Times —who found the importance of the story so crucial they placed it on the first page of the National section and, apparently, felt the piece stood up well enough on its own that they were able to write an entire article about something happening in Detroit without mentioning Phil Cooley—I am conscious of the fact I may lose my blogging license if I don't weigh-in on the subject.

    One of the arguments against the Robocop statue is that it's too lowbrow and kitschy.  This is true, as most of the support seems to have come from nerds, who are not known for their aesthetic proclivities, but without whom I would not be typing on this laptop and you would not be reading this on whatever nerd-developed device you are using.  It is therefore imperative we keep the nerds happy.
    If you look at the evolution of statuary in Detroit, which includes two, hundred-year-old bronzes of men sitting in upholstered, fringed chairs, (you mean to tell me this wasn't controversial, to have a statue sitting outdoors as if in a parlor)? To the current most popular statue in the city which, it may surprise people to hear, is a gigantic tiger, made to look like concrete but actually feels and resonates like plastic, sitting outside the baseball stadium.  It doesn't get more lowbrow and kitschy than this tiger—which is what we've come to expect from the Ilitch family—except when the statue is swathed in a giant Carhartt jacket every winter.  Still, there is rarely a time when you'll pass by this statue and not see someone posing for a picture in front of it. 

     Marshall Frederick's Spirit of Detroit is obviously a much classier and impressive statue compared to the tiger, but let it be known that its popularity goes up when it too is clad in clothing, usually a hockey jersey.  (Ilitch again!) The point is, even if money were raised to erect a more, shall we say, "artistic" statue, there's no guarantee it would not be dumbed-down in the future.  Unfortunately, if you take issue with silly statuary, you have a long way to go before it's eradicated in Detroit.
    This would be a good time for the designers of the new Robocop statue to take note.  If you want your statue to be even more popular, design it so it can wear clothing.  An arms akimbo stance should be avoided.  You never know when an advertiser, a sports championship or even a worthy cause may present itself and Robocop would need to put on a shirt or jacket to show his allegiance.  I do not, however, recommend having Robocop sitting in a chair, that would make him look lazy.
    The other main argument against the Robocop statue is that it's a waste of money, and $60,000 could be spent on more noble things, like helping the poor in Detroit.  This is also true, and unfortunately always will be. Carhartt could also have made 20 coats for 20 homeless people but instead they made one coat for a giant plastic tiger and no one said a thing.  But instead of listing the other 50 trillion things that someone spent money on that could have gone to a greater cause I would like to bring your attention (once again) to another Detroit statue that ended up being a big waste of money but can now, miraculously, be saved by Robocop. 
    Father Clement Kern spent his life helping the poor in Corktown.  After his death he was honored with a  statue in a small park on the corner of Bagley and Trumbull.  We'll never know if Kern would have deemed the expenditure for his likeness cast in bronze as a waste of money, but apparently no one complained or saw the irony of this at the time.  The sad part, however, is that this statue and the eight benches set in front of it, has been behind a locked, iron fence for over two decades, denying anyone the chance to enter the park and spend time with the statue, be it for contemplation, photographing or to add extra clothing to it.
    This presents a perfect opportunity for the makers of the Robocop statue to appease the critics.  It is quite obvious that the fence surrounding Father Kern must be removed,  melted down and used in the manufacturing of Robocop.  Statues helping statues, isn't that what Detroit's all about?