The Deconstruction of an Artist’s Vision
by Rachel Stephens and Judith Taylor
In April, red and yellow spray paint expressed deep-seated feelings on the base of the Jefferson Davis statue on The University of Texas at Austin’s main mall. The slogans “Davis must fall” and “Emancipate UT,” set the stage for the controversy that heightened over the summer. Student protests were held and a formal call from the student body asked that the statue of Davis, the President of the Confederacy, be removed. Memorializing Davis and other Confederate soldiers is greatly considered to not be in keeping with contemporary society, as it represents a war fought over slavery and, for many, reinforces racism in the twenty-first century.
In his article, “The Great South Mall Controversy,” Jim Nicar, the unofficial historian of UT Austin, points out: “Some claim this has been a point of contention for the past quarter century, but an extended look at the history of statues and fountain on the South Mall shows that the controversy is as old as the gateway itself.”
Pompeo Coppini was the artist who created the sculpture of Davis and other historical figures. Had the artist’s vision been realized, the statue of Jefferson Davis on campus might well have been viewed quite differently. But, as is too often the case in institutional settings, an artist’s intent is edited, altered or modified until the original concept loses meaning. Costs, donors, campus architects, politicians and administrators all played a role in diluting Coppini’s original vision.
Coppini was commissioned by George Littlefield, one of two major benefactors to the university in the early 1900s. Littlefield’s original plan was two- fold: to create an impressive, welcoming gateway to the campus and to erect a monument to veterans of the Civil War. Littlefield envisioned an arch, but Coppini resisted and finally persuaded him to take a different course.
In letters to Littlefield, the artist articulated his feelings concerning the commission. “We must give up the Arch idea, as it would be a sin to sacrifice any sum of money for something that could not be a credit to you or to me. We want to give something that will express a high ideal and an elevated sense of knowledge and true patriotism, rather than a pile of stones.” With foresight, Coppini went on to say,
“As time goes by, they will look to the Civil War as a blot on the pages of American history, and the Littlefield Memorial will be resented as keeping up the hatred between the Northern and Southern states.”
Nicar points out that the final plans called for a war memorial “to show the reunification of America in World War I after it had been divided in the Civil War.” Jefferson and other individuals were incorporated into the overall design but did not dominate. The contract for the project was signed in 1916. George Littlefield would get his prominent gateway to the university, and Coppini’ s broadened vision for the monument was accepted. Or so it seemed at the time.
The memorial was to be centered on a 100-foot- long rectangular pool of water with an elevated section at its head to represent the bow of a ship. On this elevated pool, a statue of Columbia would stand as a symbol of the American spirit. Representing the armed forces, a member of the Army and the Navy stood behind her to each side. Three sea horses were to be depicted as pulling the ship. For Coppini, this element suggested “a strong, united America sailing across the ocean to protect democracy abroad.”
Behind the fountain to either side, Coppini’s design called for two obelisks, each 37 feet tall, that would represent the North and the South. Statues of Woodrow Wilson and Jefferson Davis would stand in front of each, respectively. On either side of the fountain leaders with strong ties to Texas — Robert E. Lee, Albert Johnston, John Reagan and Jim Hogg—would be placed.
However, the artist’s metaphorical design which he and Littlefield had agreed upon did not come to be. A decade of setbacks was to follow. With the benefactor’s death in late 1920 and a rise in construction costs, the original amount set aside was not enough to complete the memorial. Even after substituting granite for some of the limestone pieces, the University’s Board of Trustees voted to cut a significant portion of the memorial, the two obelisks representing the North and the South.
According to Nicar, Coppini protested saying “that removing them would destroy intended symbolism.” Instead of complementing the message of the memorial as a whole, the statues of Davis and Wilson would now be free-standing and, in time, be seen to honor the men individually.
This was not the greatest or last challenge the memorial was to face. In 1930, the architect Paul Cret, who was charged with the University’s master plan, fundamentally redesigned the memorial layout. In his words, “the portrait statuary was separated from the allegorical figures, as the juxtaposition of these two types was objectionable on account of the difference in scale. The portrait statues selected by the donor gain in prominence when provided with an individual setting instead of being used as accessories to a fountain design.” Without being tied to the metaphor of the fountain, all symbolic meaning Coppini had intended was destroyed.
And so you have it. The Jefferson Davis statue was a part separated from a whole. The “accessory” statue was never intended to monumentalize Davis individually, to promote his values over others, or memorialize the issues for which the Civil War was fought. Nor does the act of removing the statue from its place on the Main Mall destroy an artist’s vision. It seems that was done a long time ago.
Late this summer, UT Austin’s new president, Gregory L. Fenves, made the decision to remove the Jefferson Davis statue. To maintain symmetry, the Woodrow Wilson statue was moved as well. The fate of the Wilson statue is up in the air, but the Davis statue will find its new home in the Briscoe Center for American History. The hope is that it will now find context that has been lacking for almost a century, and that Coppini will be remembered for his vision.
To read more of the history of the Littlefield gateway please visit Jim Nicar’s The University History Corner at http://jimnicar. com/2015/08/10/the-great-south-mall- controversy/
