Art Versus History

It's 7:45 a.m. on a Tuesday morning and you're on your way to work, driving down the perennially clogged artery that is Highway 301 toward Sarasota. As you near the intersection of 301 and Main Street, you look out the window and catch a glimpse of a huge mural in progress on the side of an otherwise drab gray building. "Cool," you think before moving on to deeper thoughts.

The colossal painting' on the side of the Crisp Building at 1970 Main Street (think Mediterraneo Restaurant) may garner no more interest from casual observers than a brief "My, isn't that lovely.'' However, the process leading up to its completion - a yellow brick road littered with delays, logistical hurdles and a slew of red tape - has earned the building the distinction of being one of the more unusual cases on the historic preservation books to date. The reason for all of the red tape lies in the political tug-of-war that ensued over what should take precedence: artistic expression or historical integrity.

The idea for this gargantuan' painting, now known simply as "The Mural," was originally hatched over cocktails at a party last fall. Dr. Mark Kaufman, the new owner of the building, approached Skip Dyrda, local painter and muralist, with a commission to spruce up the bland East-facing wail with a few illusionary architectural embellishments. Sounds simple enough, right? Wrong.

You see, Kaurman had already hired Mikki Hartig, a local historic preservation consultant, to file an application with the National Register of Historic Places to receive federal rehabilitation investment tax credits -- a relatively common practice. (Hartig has assisted the owners of the Orange Blossom Hotel, the Gator Club and more than 100 other historic structures in doing the same.) But the government isn't in the habit or giving out money without attaching a few strings. And, in this case, the strings came in the form of additional regulations regarding what could and could not be done to the building.

"In the beginning, Dr. Kauffman wanted to adorn that side with wrought iron balustrades under the windows," Hartig says. "The County Historic Preservation Board rejected the idea because it was not in keeping with the historic nature of the (Mediterranean Revival-style) building. So I suggested that he do something with paint. He then spoke with Skip about doing a mural, but the initial designs were rejected by the State because they featured very ornate balustrades, window accents, columns and arches, all of which were also of a disparate style. According to the regulations, you can paint the building purple if you want to, but you can't alter the structure -- or appear to alter the structure -- of the building in a way that is divergent from the original architect's intentions. Many people would have thought those balustrades were actual architectural features. And according to the standards for rehabilitation set forth by the Secretary of the Interior, painted or applied ornamentation cannot create a false sense of historic development or detract from the historic importance of the building itself."

Earlier, however, Sarasota's Historic Preservation Board had reviewed and approved the mural design - considering it only as a signage request. The County Historic Preservation Board also responded favorably, but deferred to the Florida State Department Division of Historical Resources (which was reviewing the mural design concurrently). And that's where the buck stopped.

"State architect Walter Marder basically said we couldn't do the mural at all," Dyrda recounts. "Actually, I would have been allowed to paint only the image of the upper cornice, as if it was continuing around from the front of the building. So at that point, we had to start all over. I offered to come up with another concept and another sketch, Dr. and Mrs. Kauffman and I met a few days later to review the new sketches. We all hated them, so I offered to revise the original sketch instead."

In fact, what Dyrda devised was an inspired compromise. He cleverly added images of two muralists on a scaffold, based in part on a mural Mrs. Kaufman had seen in San Fransisco. Additionally, he revised the left side of the mural to make it look as if the faux muralists were still in the process of painting it. This would insure that no one would mistake the painted adornments for real ones. The state O.K.'d the revised design and sent the sketch to the Office of Heritage Preservation Services in Washington, D.C., for what everyone thought would be rubber-stamp approval. The buck stopped again.

"lnterestingty enough, the officials in Washington decided that I could not paint the image of the upper cornice as Marder originally said we could," Dyrda says. "They also wanted the images in the upper right and left corners (an artist's palette and the symbols of comedy and tragedy) removed. At this point, Dr. Kauffman began having serious misgivings about the project. So, I asked for and got his permission to deal directly with Washington. I spoke with Ann Grimmer of the Heritage Preservation Services Office and agreed to tone down the images in the upper corners, making them appear as though they were subtle has reliefs. I was also allowed to keep the upper cornice in the design. I quickly did a new rendering and created a new web page just so she could see the alterations the very next day. The next morning I received a call telling me my sketch was approved as submitted. I thought to myself: What an incredible relief"

By this point, several months had passed and it was now late April. The contractor had prepared and primed the wall in February. The paint Dyrda had specially ordered from Germany had arrived in March. Everything was finally in place and the green light was on.

That was right about the time that little Mackenzie Sierra Dyrda decided to make her appearance in the world.

After taking a few weeks off for parental leave and spending a few more weeks learning how to elevate himself to a height of 66 feet on a hydraulic man lift, at last Dyrda was able to begin work on what would become Sarasota's largest outdoor mural. He adds, "This experience has taught me quite a bit about patience and about navigating bureaucratic protocols. I generally try to see all sides of a story, which helped me in my discussions with Washington in particular. All of the parties involved were really trying to do the same thing: preserve and enhance the significance of a historic building. The fact that a good middle-ground solution was reached ultimately speaks well of everyone."

Dyrda reports positive response to the mural. "I got a lot of thumbs up signs from people driving by as I was working ... and no one threw any rotten tomatoes at me. I guess, all in all, this experience has been a pretty good one."