ANTONY GORMLEY says that his 100-day project One and Other– in which members of the public can spend an hour on the empty fourth plinth in Trafalgar Square, London – will end up creating a "composite picture" of Britain, writes CHARLOTTE HIGGINS
After the first few hours on Monday, the self-portrait appeared to show a mosaic of polite rule-breakers, exhibitionists with a social conscience, and slightly inept publicans.
The rule-breaking began five minutes before the official inauguration of the project. Boris Johnson, the London mayor, was poised to welcome the latest temporary artwork on to the plinth in the northwest corner of the square when a white-haired middle-aged fellow, too quick for all four of the hefty security guards nearby, sprinted along the top of the balustrade that runs the width of the square.
Using its height to jump from, he grabbed hold of the safety netting strung beneath the plinth and hauled himself aloft, for a moment dangling dangerously upside down. Then he was up there, to stage a very singular protest, unfurling a poster saying: "Ban tobacco and actors smoking. One billion deaths this century." With admirable sang-froid, mayor and artist ploughed on, punctuating their speeches with polite requests for the interloper to remove himself.
After Johnson’s succession of awful puns (“we may have lost the people’s princess, but we have the people’s plinth”; “one day, your plinth may come”), Gormley appealed thus: “I hope you’ll have the grace to give up your place to Rachel, the real first person on the plinth. You are the warm-up act, the pre-plinth act.” The protester, Stuart Holmes, shouted: “Give me a mic.” Gormley yelled back: “You should have brought your own. That’s the rules.”
Johnson was heard to mutter: “It really is quite important that he comes down now,” and Holmes did, descending on the cherry-picker that had lifted Rachel Wardell, a 35-year-old housewife from Lincolnshire, to the plinth.
After all the drama, Wardell’s official hour – holding before her a large green sign promoting the charity Childline – seemed rather tame. After she had been welcomed down by her husband, Brian, and children Harrison, five, and Archie, two, she said she had eschewed an elaborate performance because she felt she simply wanted to say: “This is me, and this is the thing that I care about.”
Meanwhile, Holmes – who said his occupation was “anti-smoking protester” – was keen to press his point home. “Actors smoking in films is enticing children to the holocaust of smoking,” he said on his descent.
“We will be keeping,” said Gormley, “a weather eye on the northeast corner of the plinth from now on.” The next participant, Jason Clark, a 41-year-old nurse from Brighton, surprised onlookers by doing nothing, really, at all. “I thought it enough to be there and represent my region,” he said good-naturedly afterwards.
By contrast, Jill Gatcum, 51, who ascended just as the heavens opened, was a one-woman hive of activity: she was releasing 49 helium balloons, one for each of the people who had supported her by donating to a charity of their choice.
By lunchtime there was a town crier – not passing on the news of the day, alas, but promoting two-for-one cocktails in his London pubs in bad rhyme. “Come to our bar, it’s the best bar by far,” bawled Scott Illman, his voice largely lost to the wind, traffic and fountains.
The succession of plinthians will go on until October – applications are still open and participants are chosen by computer to represent each region.
Gazing up at the curious phenomenon he had unleashed, Gormley said: “Look how fragile, small and vulnerable they are.” A Russian woman handing out stickers carrying the slogan “I don’t need a plinth to be art”, said: “It shows how much you British respect your citizens – and trust them not to take a gun up there.” Well, yes. But, one suspects, we ain’t seen nothing yet.
Guardianservice
