Foucault, human rights, and moralist ranting, all in the New York Times.

Our in-class discussion about the status of cultural heritage, the preservation of cultural heritage and the role heritage plays in the scheme of human rights, is reflected in today's New York Times article on preservation and development in New York. Far too long to completely summarize, the article focuses on the conflicts in the Greenwich village part of NYC, where the Landsmarks Commission is often stuck between the turf wars of preservationists and real estate developers.

The developers claim that "Landmarking is one of the best tools that anti-development people have in this city — it’s a very long, political process", whereas preservationists insist that so little of the City has actually been landmarked that it doesn't pose any actual economic threat to the interests of the developers.

This leads into my argument about the status of heritage protection. Clearly, as we saw today in class, while there may be a tacit agreement that, in general, cultural heritage is valuable, it's exact location in the "hierarchy" of human rights (or simply rights) becomes complicated. Is it as universal as the right to live? What about the right to healthcare? How does one negotiate when one of the rights comes into conflict with another one?

The problem is that instead of actually having that discussion, the argument "well, how do we reconcile different rights" is actually often used to ignore the problem alltogether. In the case of the New York real-estate developers, the argument for economic profit is used to throw heritage completely out of the window. Instead of looking for ways to integrate the old and the new (which the Landscape Commission suggests), looking for alternative sites that do not require razing valuable buildings etc, the developers are essentially claiming that these sites prevent (economic) development and thus should be done away with. Baby and the bathwater, as they say.

Of course the economic losses compared to the heritage losses are completely marginal, of course there is more to sustainable human development than economics, and finally, of course even talking about heritage in economic terms means translating the issue into a fundamentally different conflict that, one could argue, is essentially a subversive use of power relations, in a foucaultian perspective, removing the actual issue of two parties negotiating over different interests that both relate to certain rights that the perceive themselves as having, and making it into an issue of economics, in which those with economic interests and economic power clearly have the upper hand.

I would like to say that is as unexpected as it is disappointing, but clearly, unexpected it is not. In fact, the translation of cultural heritage into economic terms is more of a rule than an exception (can you say "Christie's"?), but for a glimmer of hope there is this message from the City's deputy mayor: "We don’t think about development without thinking about preservation,” she said in an e-mail message. (She agreed to reply only to questions submitted in writing.) “During a time of unprecedented growth, preservation has always been front and center.”

Let's just hope the actions live up to the words.

The return of McHeritage

Culturegrrl has been keeping everyone updated on the plans of the Italian Government to install a 'heritageczar' to preside over the vastly underfunded Italian cultural heritage. Mr. Mario Resca, formerly of McDonald's Italy has promised to look at heritage like "a strategic asset, like oil, with zero costs, because it's there" and, despite a complete lack of art-historical background promises to succeed, because when he headed McDonald's, he didn't know anything about food either! The fact that the former casino-owner and McDonald's director is a personal friend of prime minister Silvio "Nice tan" Berlusconi, makes the situation all the more fishy.

The odd thing is, ultracapitalist rhetoric aside, the few suggestions Resca has made, are not totally unreasonable at all. He proposes to lend out art to foreign museums á la Louvre to make revenue for the constantly cash-deprived Italian culture industry. He also promises to make cultural heritage more accessible, a goal, as a reader of Culturegrrl points out, is sorely needed.

However, getting a few details right does not mean that one should ignore the elephant in room. We'll set aside the political considerations of exactly how wise it is to let a single man preside over the entire Italian culture industry and focus on the deeper cultural implications of this decision: Mr. Berlusconi installed a man who considers a Big Mac to be essentially the same thing as a Michelangelo, as the head honcho of a three thousand year old heritage business.

While the statement that in a month he is likely to have changed all of his positions offers a glimmer of hope, the comment about art being essentially like oil, because both are strategic natural assests, is almost a definition of a neoliberal reductio ad absurdum. Probably the least healthy way to think about cultural heritage is to say that because it can, in some cases, be utilized in a capitalist way, it would follow that it is inherently a market commodity and should be treated as such. Such an attitude is likely to lead to an ignorance of the more nuanced aspects of cultural heritage (public ownership, symbolic meaning to different groups of people, worth as an educational and scientific object, etc.) that Italy, with it's heritage already underfunded, could not afford. Clearly there are ways how good PR, smart entrepeneurship and a careful balance between pandering to the (paying) masses and catering for the interests of the non-paying public and of small interest groups (such as students, researchers and people who have a special connection with various pieces of cultural heritage) could pull Italian heritage out of the financial slump that they are in, but because it is a very fine line that needs to be treaded, it should be done by someone who is as aware of the non-market qualities of heritage as he is of the potentials for making profit.

Outsourcing museology

Last week's Economist writes about the new hotspot of cultural preservation and art patronage: The middle-east. Over the past decade, Qatar and and the United Arab Emirates have been setting up new and ever the more lavish displays of cultural heritage. Abu Dhabi has a branch of the Louvre, an offshoot of the Guggenheim will soon be built by his eminence, Frank Gehry, whereas Dubai has become the new center for art collectors.

As the Economist points out, Qatar is making a bold step by opening up a museum of Islamic Art, but everything else in the region screams "western". Though stand-out asian and islamic objects are also being both sold and displayed, the focus is clearly on appropriating western culture (Manhattan skylines, Frank Gehry buildings, outsourced western museums etc.) Even with the museum of Islamic Art, one should stop and think for a second about the very concretely western origin of the museum and the fact that the building is designed by I.M. Pei who, though a Chinese, is associated most with western architecture.

On the one hand, there is nothing wrong with adopting culture. No society lives in a bubble, and the criss-crossing of heritage can often be diversifying not homogenizing. The Emirates seem to be crossing the line between admixture and imitation with great enthusiasm though. A 1.6 billion dollar cooperation project with Hollywood?

It would be easy enough to dismiss this as an example of Western civilization excercising "soft power" over the Arab world - clearly the Emirates and Qatar have enough money to buy the prestige that comes along with the posession of valuable western cultural treasures. If you can't defeat the enemy, then join him and so on.

But there is also another, different viewpoint. Western billionaires, art collectors and run-of-the-mill tourists are looking increasingly towards the Persian Gulf for leisure. The potential revenue the Emirates and/or Qatar could generate from these projects could far outweigh the costs. And if the Islamic heritage manages to survive alongside the flashy, occasionally corny, but certainly appealing skyscrapers and branches of internationally known brand-names in the culture industry, then maybe it's the Emirates, who are the exploiters and not the other way around.

The context debate contextualized.

The Punching Bag writes on the importance of context in archaeology using the example of a stele from Zincii uncovered by the Oriental Institute at the University of Chicago. Thanks to the context, archaeologists have been able to extract information from it that would never have been revealed, had the object been looted by grave-robbers. At the same time, Cultural Property Observes asks: Context, so what? Very often, archaeologists come up with nothing when they look for context, and if every archaeological site were as carefully examined as "some people" want it to, nothing would ever be uncovered.

The irony is that neither of the bloggers are entirely without merit. For the layperson, the museum-goer, context often means nothing. What is learned from the context of, say an Ancient Greece crater, is condensed to a three-sentence summary short enough to be included on a white label, put next to the crater, next to hundreds of other objects of cultural patrimony with similar interpretive texts and so on... in the end, how many of us gaze at an ancient sculpture and go "wow, I am so impressed by this valuable insight into the social structure of the Ancient Egyptians"? It's all the more likely that we will gaze in awe because we are near a really old statue and don't even bother reading the texts.

As Lowenthal says, the idea of relics is to tie history into memory, but even so, the relic, as a physical objects remains the centerpiece of our memory. As such, the amount of history we get out of it, the amount of context, is something we as museumgoers do not often appreciate. So in that sense, yes an object is better than no object.

However, this all changes when we enter into the world of museum professionals, whose job it is to construct that history and mold it into a presentable form for the museumgoers. Here, context is crucial. Not only could information that a visitor would consider insignificant become a piece in the puzzle for a systematic understanding of ancient cultures, but consciously or unconsciously, the history eventually does trickle down to the audiences. While we may not appreciate the immediate effects of learning about historical societies when compared to the wow-factor of seeing something really old, we do appreciate the knowledge in retrospect. There is a lot about ancient cultures that have shaped the way we think and that have become commonplace in popular knowledge. From the vicious gladiator games of the Romans to the direct democracy of ancient Athens, I would think that most people would appreciate that knowledge as valuable.

But that of course, is all context.

It seems that the question: So what? about preserving "unnecessary" context when uncovering ancient relics is an example of a pundit failing to see further than one step along the logical train of thought. Certainly, if you're looking at an ancient tablet, the emotional impact of the tablet will overwhelm the cultural knowledge you receive from the interpretive text. But you can't take the tablet with you. You can take the context.

Yesterday's New York Times writes about a collection of mummies discovered from the Chinese region of Xinyang that have become the centerpieces of an ethnic standoff. Uighur Nationalists in the Autonomous Region of Uighuria are using a collection of mummies with distinctly non-chinese features as proof that they settled in Xinyang first, and thus can lay claim to the area.

If you think about it, you can't but be impressed at how silly this dispute is. There are many conflicting claims as to who settled the region first: The Chinese claim that it was a military expedition of the Han dynasty at around 2nd century B.C. The Uighurs, according to scholarly accounts didn't come around until 10th century AD. And Uighurs themselves, inspired by the 6000-year-old mummies, cite them as proof that there was settlement in the area well before the Chinese and that somehow automatically gives the Uighurs legitimacy over the region.

As actual pieces of historical evidence, the ancient mummies are almost useless. Even if they did say something about the Uighur precedence of the Chinese (which they don't), as the article points out, the region is a melting pot. There has been an incredible variety of different nationalities inhabiting the region through many centuries, most of whom did probably not even conceive of themselves as "laying claim" to this areas, so any notion of right of ownership can only be retrospective.

However, as insight into the workings of cultural heritage in relation with political power, this is a superb example. The Chinese government, is keeping researchers away from the mummies, because it wants to keep the dominant narrative which asserts the long-term chinese dominance in the area. It is interesting that the Chinese, though they have physical control over the area, feel the need to look for evidence in support of their political dominance and/or keep evidence for the contrary out of the public's eyes. After all, their goal, which is to keep the area pacified and under the control of Chinese People's Republic, is as achievable through sheer military might, which they undoubtedly have over the Uighurians, as it is through a questionable historical narrative.

This reminds one of Foucault, and his idea that power is better asserted subversively, through means of "discipline" not through means of physical power - in his terms "punish". The Chinese might not worry about losing military control over the people now, but this way of governing is ultimately temporary, inefficient and dangerous. Instead, if one can create a framework, in which the Uighurians accept the Chinese presence in the Xianying as a historical fact, they will themselves feel less compelled to rebel against the Chinese and the need for military assertion of power will grow smaller. In effect, the Chinese are trying to control the area by assuring the Uighurians, that the Chinese are supposed to be there.

As Orwell once wrote: "He who controls the past, controls the future."

Back with the Huge Honking Statues

The Greeks have decided to recreate the Colossus of Rhodes, originally one of the seven wonders of the world that was destroyed by an earthquake at around 200 BC. The decision is not a new one, apparently there was talk of doing that as far back as the Athens olympics in 2004, but as the island's mayor Hatzis Hatziefthimiou said: "Monumental works can't be copied for the simple reason that they risk becoming caricatures".

This time around, it's not going to be a copy, but more of a "homage", a much larger, fancier, 21st century Colossus that will feature a unique light show - a reference to the original Colossus representing the Sun God Helios - and can be visited by tourists. Nonetheless, the issue is not without controversy.

Even though the new statue is not going to be a copy, to originality of the idea can be questioned on many grounds. This wouldn't be the first time the Colossus has been reconstructed, since there is a quite famous homage to it standing on Liberty Island, New York. In fact, giant symbols of liberty have become so ubiquitous that they have become a cliché of landmarks. The Colossus would have to be pretty damn inventive to break through the presupposition that it's going to be "just another oversized guy at sea".

At the same time, it is always hard to tell, which landmarks manage to surpass their architectural unoriginality and take on another cultural role in the collective memory. For instance, never mind that the White House is a pretty boring neoclassical construction, pretty much no-one even sees the architecture when thinking about it. It's cultural heritage derives from it's political meaning, not the aesthetic one. Similarly, the Statue of Liberty is as much an iconic landmark, as it is a symbol of American freedom and democracy.

What will the new Colossus symbolize? Based on the comments of the mayor ("It will be a marvellous opportunity for the economy of the region"), it's going to be a symbol of an island capitalizing on transforming it's history into a commercialized venue of overblown grandiosity and not much else. It has worked in the past (See: EPCOT), but it's going to have to be a pretty damn inventive lightshow to take on any deeper meaning other than just being a parody of the old Wonder of the World.

The British museum's new show "Babylon: Myth and Reality" is all about dispelling the age-old biblical depictions of Babylon as the center of all that is evil in this world, and showing the true heterogeneity of the old city through the ages. Apparently.

Of course, it is interesting that the contrast the curators have chosen is one of "Myth and Reality." Because, in the end, the "reality" of Babylon on display at the museum can only be a selective interpretation by curators and archaeologists that is necessarily tied to the myths that they are trying to overturn and the realities of our own 21st century existence.

Consider, for instance, that the exhibition features the invention of the sexagesimal time system or their monotheistic spirituality. The importance of both of these items for the Babylonians is something we cannot properly evaluate, because, well, they're dead, but it's almost certain that our fascination with these particularities have less to do with them being exemplary characteristics of Babylonian society, but with our relation to the sexagesimal time system and monotheistic religions.

Furthermore, a great deal of the Babylonian heritage on display is interpreted through the framework of the biblical myth. The exhibition sets the story of the Tower of Babel straight, corrects rumors and fact-checks on the Bible. Fascinating - yes, factual - yes, probably, any more contextuall real than the biblical myths - no, not really. The "real" of the exhibition may be grounded in archeological evidence, but the narrative constructed by the curators is just as grounded in the realities, interests and agendas of our own time, as the biblical mythology.

The Independent covers the fruitful directorate of Malcolm Rogers at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. The director's tenure is characterized not only by a $500 million capital campaign and a Norman Foster building in the very near future, but also by a controversial approach to curation and museum running.

There are many ways how to interpret his decisions in the MFA, here are some that seem intriguing to me:

His approach to curation seems to be reinterpreting not only the role of the museum in the 21st century, but also delivering a very non-traditional narrative of the 21st century itself. His shows draws the emphasis away from the traditional art-museum elite of Grand Masters, impressionists and modern artists and more towards the underrepresented, but also towards popular culture.

However, while I hoped to find a more democratic perspective of the world, at least based on articles that I read, Rogers seems to have replaced a narrative of colonial power with an appraisal of power and status in the 21st century. The exhibitions "Speed, style and beauty", "Things I Love" and "Dangerous Curves" display objects almost uniquely tied to the 21st century idea of prestige and power: Yachts, fast cars, guitars owned by rock stars. His flirtation with Las Vegas (he rented 21 Monet's in his collection out to a hotel and casino in the Sin City) seems to reinforce that - Rogers seems to have replaced a 19th century narrative of power (through colonialism, imperialism and a strict hierarchy of cultures) with a 21st century one, celebrating the culture of the wealthy and the popular.

If his narrative of the world seems elitist, his ideas for the museum are more ambiguous. On the one hand, he seems to have an interest in expanding on the underrepresented, as the new MFA building will reportedly include the largest gallery of American Art, including that of Central and South America. He underscores the importance of sharing between museums and the importance of innovation in research. However, his ideas on how to bring the museum closer to the people include "Winesdays" (regular wine tasting events) and College Days complete with Live DJ-s, partying and treasure hunts. I find myself asking, is it necessary to bend the museum to whatever the present fad in appealing to the masses seems to be? Is it that hard to find a non-traditional solution that doesn't constantly affirm the economically-oriented power relations of the 21st century?

And finally, a nail in the coffin is his suggestion that art museums should sell to get rid of the "junk", junk here being "all these Attic vases". This seems to suggest that the museum is not simply a repository of significant heritage and a center of education, but an explicitly elite repository of only what he considers to be the very best of heritage. Not quite the way to shake the reputation of a museum being the tool of reaffirming societal power relations, is it?

Lord Elgin strikes again!

Not the 'original' Thomas Bruce "I-have-a-noun-named-after-me" Elgin, but this time his son, James Bruce, who during the second opium war ordered the destruction of the Yuanming Yuan palace, which resulted in not only the destruction of important cultural heritage, but also the looting of what was left.

Today, the Guardian reports that Christie's is about to sell two artifacts from the palace that belonged to the French fashion designer Yves Saint-Laurent as part of the designer's collection, after China refused to buy the bronze statues privately for £18 million.

As with the Elgin marbles, the legal status of the Bronze status is disputable. China calls them "looted objects". Others disagree, because China had ceded the area on which the Summer Palace was located to the British during the time of the looting. However, as with the Elgin marbles, the fact that the position held by the British is legal, does not necessarily make it right.

Our class discussion and readings about power serve as a tool to shed light on this particular issue. As the bronze sculptures being sold by Christie were in the posession of a private owner, they hold no particular value for the British, who originally acquired them from the Chinese, nor the French, aside from the fact that they were associated with one of the icons of Frenchness. On the grounds of cultural import, there is no reason why the artifacts should go to anyone else other than the Chinese.

However, the Chinese now have to contend with the fact the bronze sculptures are now imbued not only with cultural value, but also monetary value. The origin of this financial value is not hard to trace - you need a person in physical posession of the object, willing to exchange it for money, another person willing to provide the money in exchange for the physical object and an audience who acknowledges the legitimacy of the transaction. In essence, an arbitrary power relation established in the 1800-s has been propagated through the centuries, and Christie's, by recognizing the monetary value of these artifacts is thus by extension condoning the power relations established by means that in the 21th century have been thoroughly discredited (i.e colonialism and imperialism).

So, yes, the Chinese government is correct for a change. Putting a price tag on objects, while at the same time recognizing that the source of the financial value is today illegitimate, though technically legal, constitutes moral, if not legal, robbery. This is exactly the reason why the 1970 marker is considered important by the AAMD and various other organizations. Perhaps one should start thinking about the impact this should, or could have on private collectors.

The obligatory 9/11 post.

The 9/11 memorial competition resulted in eight designs that had far more in common than they differed. Unsurprisingly so, the rules for the competition were unusually rigid, requiring the entries to honor everyone who died in the attacks, designate the spaces where the Twin Towers once stood, provide a contemplative space for visitors, etc. plus a variety of "guiding principles" that the memorial was expected to conform to. Thus, the results featured almost universally lowered spaces at the foundations of the Twin Towers, some sort of light fixtures or falling water, walls with names on them and other similar staples of 21st century memorial design.

And being similar, they also came under attack from similar criticism. Max Page writes about how instead of a memorial looking back, Ground Zero could become the site of something new and forward-looking that embodies the nature of New York and the people that inhabit it. This article offers a similar critique, accusing the memorial designs for lacking a human resonance and being overly "spectacular" and "corporate".

The 9/11 memorial controversy provides helpful insight into how people think about memorializing. There seem to be two complementary elements at play in the case of the 9/11 memorial - the aesthetic and the personal. Aesthetically, the 9/11 memorial is trying to achieve monumentality, trying to preserve the memory of the people who perished in the attacks by associating them with a grand aesthetic design and thus engraining them in the minds of the visitors. However, this is hard to achieve without a personal component - the visitors should feel a personal connection to the memorial, feel that they, not the architecture, is central to the site and the story it represents. In the end, the people matter, not the buildings.

This seems to apply generally as well as particularly. Not to say that objects with power cannot hold our attention simply due to sentimental, personal value, or because of high aesthetic qualities, but generally the artifacts, places and buildings humans value most tend to exhibit a combination of the two. For instance, lavish gothic churches can be appreciated simply for their remarkable architecture and craftmanship, but a viewer appreciating the Notre-Dame on those grounds, will never walk away with the same experience as a viewer for whom the church is also a place of congregation, prayer and, in the case of the Notre-Dame, also an integral part of historical Parisian landscape.

If we accept the argument that objects can have 'inherent' power, as far their qualities and aesthetics appeal to what can broadly be described as a common human sensibility, we could also claim that in order to make a true impression, they would also have to create a personal connection to which this aesthetic impact can be tied to. For instance, one can appreciate gold, for the many qualities that make it appealing for us (it's rarity, durability, malleability), but one usually does not value gold in an abstract sense, but through a personal connection - gold as jewelery, gold as material for religious objects, gold as means of economic exchange.

So, this brings me back to why the personal impact of the 9/11 memorial is crucial. If the memorial is dominated by it's aesthetic complexity, it runs the danger of becoming a "dead monument", one that is seen as an artistic accomplishment, but not as an important site for a large number of people. Granted, it is less likely to happen in the case of this particular memorial (just by the virtue of the fact that 9/11 itself had such a large impact on people's lives, so some of it will rub off on the memorial), but it is an important factor to keep in mind nonetheless.

It looks as if all too often the intricate relationship between a 'relic' and the surrounding history that is imbuing it with meaning is not understood by the very people who's job it is to recognize such things. The continued story of the Elgin marbles looks like an example of that. In this post at Elginism, the author discusses the potential of returning the Marbles to Greece for the 2012 London Olympics. I noted with interest that although the majority of Britons support the return of the marbles, the Museum still opposes it on the grounds (since "the Greeks have nowhere to store them in" argument is no longer valid) that it would create a precedent and more artifacts would start flowing out of museums.

The post summarizes well why that argument does not hold water, and as such it seems more and more likely that the Museum simply does not want to let go of marbles. While it's true that the British Museum would lose some of it's prestige along with the marbles, it is questionable how much of a positive impact the marbles are making for the museum in the first place. After all, if most britons, upon seeing the marbles do not think "priceless Greek antiquities" but instead "the Museum should give it back", they may be still draw a crowd to the Museum, but not for the reasons the Museum would want them to.

Clearly, the story of the marbles does not stop with their removal from Athens by lord Elgin, and I'm left wondering, if already the story of the Museum's refusal to return them is starting to overshadow their prominence as important antiquities. Considering that the museum should think whether it even wants to hold on to a piece of heritage that makes most visitors think about the injustice of the museum and not the artistic merit of the object. It seems that returning them would benefit both the Marbles themselves (because at Athens, they could once again be viewed in context with the Parthenon and not be overshadowed by their fate in the past few hundred years) as well as the British Museum (since they would replace negative publicity associated with the Marbles with positive publicity associated with their return). So my hopes are high that Museum will realize that as well and work out a deal by 2012.

[edit from 10/31] In light of the last class discussion, hopefully this rewording of my argument will help to elucidate the point. Whatever power the Marbles have accumulated over time from being identified with the Parthenon, the foundations of Western Civilization, high aesthetic principles and whatnot, may become overshadowed by the power of being associated with the Greece-Britain debacle. If the British Museum is not very careful in dealing with this situation, then it's own image in the collective consciousness of the Brits, the cogniscenti and pretty much eveyone who matters to the Museum, may start tarnishing.

Le Monde reports on the International Red Cross returning an archive of 80 000 items pertaining to the Spanish Civil War to the Republic of Spain, to help them research and preserve the memory of this significant event. In addition to being a significant endeavor on it's own right, this news items reminds me of an important detail in cultural heritage studies that is often overlooked to the detriment of the heritage: Museums and universities aren't the only ones making cultural heritage.

It is quite easy to get stuck in the familiar grounds of museums, public humanities and cultural studies, when talking about cultural heritage. Even discussions about the illegal relocation of objects is often talked about in a way that involves only private individuals, museums and the state as a mediator between them (through the process of legislation). The truth of the matter is that many organizations, some of which have no direct relation to issues of cultural heritage, can become involved in the debate, some willing, some unwilling.

The Red Cross is one example of such an organization, whose prime objective is not to deal with the preservation of cultural heritage issues, but who has been placed in a situation where it needs to deal with it. Another organization is the US Military. Larry Rothfield, of the Punching Bag, reports on the repercussions of military inaction in Iraq leading to the looting of the Iraq National Museums and destruction of a significant amount of the world's cultural heritage. The truth of the matter seems to be, that a lot of the destruction was caused not by malicious intent, but simply by wild ignorance of cultural heritage issues by the people planning the war. Hence the addition to the military field manual on Stability of Operations regarding the protection of cultural heritage.

These examples should serve as warning as to how dangerous it is to close certain subjects in an ivory tower and pretend that they are not related to "real world" issues. Cultural heritage, perhaps by it's reference to the past and the world "culture" in it, is often designated as a secondary concern by people dealing with "more important stuff", such as the economy or governance. However, such neglect can easily come around and bite you in the butt, as the world-wide debate regarding the protection of the Iraq museum has shown. However, such understanding has to begin with recognizing cultural heritage as a primary concern, not a tangentially related subset of a more important concern. For instance, the military need not protect cultural heritage, because it is vital to the stability of the region (though true), it needs to protect heritage, because it heritage is a important part of humanity. Similarly, while New York City's assessment of the economic profitability of Eliasson's "Waterfalls" may provide insight into the cost-benefit analysis of public humanities, it needs to be recognized at the same time, that an economic analysis can never be the sole assessment to the success of a piece of public cultural heritage.