Mural Musings

I told my daughter, Kristiana, in an IM conversation that my next blog topic was going to be ‘murals’ and asked if she had any thoughts. She whipped this out in about five seconds:

“Murals are not just a painting that moves you. They tell more of a story. And no one can blatantly disregard them. It's like what's painted on a wall somewhere for all to see is there because it wants to be remembered. To put a dent somewhere in history.”

In the 70’s it became popular top ut up “paper murals.” These were like gigantic wallpaper that formed a large picture when sections were appropriately placed. They typically featured some sort of nature scene. But the more artistic types were those that were actually painted on walls, either inside or outside a building.

In my high school, there was a mural in the main hallway. I passed by it every day, starting in seventh grade because the junior high and high school shared the two adjacent buildings. Since Mapleton was known for logging, boating, fishing, and mill work, it featured all of these elements—lots of trees, water (the Siuslaw River), and boats. It may have been my junior or senior year that it was decided this antiquated mural should be painted over and “updated”. I, for one, did not feel this was right—this was a piece of history—it defined not only our town’s roots but our school’s.

My alma mater, Mapleton High School, Mapleton, Oregon.

Online one can read multiple articles of schools or city buildings in which murals of the past have been painted over and replaced with a new artistic expression. It is true that times change, styles change, history itself changes. But is it enough to preserve murals through photographs? Perhaps they should be painted on temporary walls that can be moved when that mural becomes “outdated.” These aren’t happy little snowmen someone has quickly painted in a holiday store window—they’ve taken hours, days, weeks to complete, and through that time investment, the artists have invested pieces of themselves. It seems a sad mockery for a piece of artwork once so prized to be one day painted over in the blink of an eye.

I have to admit that I once painted over a mural myself. In the house we once owned, someone had painted a ghost town scene in the downstairs hallway. Though interesting in many ways, the colors were drab (mostly gray), and the scene itself evoked sad, depressive feelings. But I did find myself wondering about the person who painted it—what caused he or she to choose that particular scene? When was it painted? What conversations ensued as it was being created? I felt a bit guilty about covering it. And maybe that’s what happens. Preferences change, culture changes—what was once truly vogue is now outmoded. Up-and-coming artists have new ideas that demand a fresh canvas.

But once something is painted over, it is lost forever in its purest minutiae and character. A photograph cannot capture a brushstroke the way it can be seen up close, in its original form. And so it begs the question…or questions—should murals ever be painted over? Should we re-evaluate the practice of immortalizing works of art on walls? What is lost when a mural is “wiped out”?

Does one need to have become famous in order for his or her mural to remain? If Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel masterpieces were covered over, how would the populace react? Or the world at large? Of course, his work in its intricacy, difficulty, and immense time commitment cannot be compared to a high school hallway mural, but it is something to consider that Michelangelo himself may have painted unknown works that got painted over before he became a name known ‘round the globe. Is it possible? What determines the stability and value of something created as art? Food for thought.