'Wall Huggers' Fend Off Artists In Annapolis

Building Can Tell City's Story Better Than Photos, Preservationists Say

To the arts community, it seemed like a simple plan: Celebrate Annapolis's 300th anniversary by hanging huge pieces of history-themed art in public places around town. Public art, history, featured in one of the nation's most historic cities -- perfect.

Then the plan hit the wall.

Specifically, the parking lot's wall.

Preservationists called its scarred surface -- full of cracks, graffiti and mismatched layers of faded brick -- a rich tapestry of history. Artists, looking to cover it with photos, had been calling it something completely different: ugly.

Now the proposal to install art in the parking lot and five other sites has split the city's cultural elite, pitting the art community against historic preservationists. The controversy, both sides say, has prompted questions about the town's very purpose: whether it exists to preserve or to create.

Art advocates say their ambitious proposal to temporarily install 9-by-12-foot reproductions of original paintings and historic photos on the sides of buildings would enhance the town's anniversary. After working for more than a year, they have won a $70,000 grant, secured support among city officials and gotten four local artists to start painting.

The jewel of their project is to be a gallery of enlarged photos in an alcove parking lot sandwiched between an Irish pub and a copy shop near Church Circle. The pictures, of people and scenes from Annapolis's bygone years, would bring new life to the parking lot's run-down walls, the art people said.

But the walls already have a life of their own, preservationists said.

"I can read a whole lot of history in the wall," said William E. Schmickle, head of the Historic Preservation Commission, which is project's last hurdle for approval.

The black lines scrawled along the top of the walls might be markings from the tar roof of a no-longer-existing building next door, the commission said. The mismatched patterns of faded brick are clues to when each section of the surrounding buildings was added.

Those and other objections from the Historic Preservation Commission now threaten to sink the art proposal.

The commission is feared and obeyed throughout Annapolis. Its strict reign is the reason Annapolis has preserved its Colonial-era charm and become a flourishing tourist attraction. Its complete authority, however, is also the reason some around town whisper, cringe or ask not to be quoted when talking about the commission.