Augusta Must Learn to Take Care of Its Toys

I was offered – and accepted – a rare and exceptional gift recently. While visiting the Basilica di San Giorgio Maggiore in Venice, Italy, I was giving the opportunity to step behind the scenes and observe the restoration of two of the painter Jacopo Tintoretto’s great masterpieces – “The Last Supper” and “Gathering of the Manna.” 

Tremendous works – in scope, scale, and importance to Venetian and Italian culture – they were recently removed from their home flanking the basilica’s altar so that they might get the much-needed care and upkeep paintings of a certain vintage require. The pieces, which were completed shortly before the artist’s death in 1594, had, as expected, seen a little wear and tear over the years. Paint fades and varnish becomes opaque. The high Venetian humidity causes paint to separate from the canvas. Surprisingly, these are not insurmountable obstacles. A painting, if cared for properly and regularly – say every 50-100 years – can remain bright, beautiful, and, in the case of “The Last Supper” and “Manna”, culturally significant for centuries. 

This kind of care and upkeep is something Venetians have become adept at – and with good reason. The city – more than 1000 years old – was built on marshes and has consistently had to battle with both would-be invaders and the sea. Everything there – while incredibly beautiful and inspiring, is always sinking, leaking, or crumbling. But the city battles on. It’s a place of near-constant restoration efforts – be it ensuring its treasure trove of art is preserved and protected or its architectural heritage does not succumb to the sea that literally laps at every doorstep. 

Venice, it seems, knows how to take care of Venice. It’s an example we, as a community, might do well to learn from. 

Most certainly, Augusta and her environs do not have the sort of challenges Venice does. The Savannah River has flooded a time or two, but not recently and certainly not with the kind of frequency Venice does. Our city is, quite fortunately, located in a spot where – with the exception, I suppose, of the occasional hurricane – disaster is not knocking on the door. That does not, however, excuse the city as an entity, or the people who live here as a community, from ensuring our own cultural touchstones are not protected, preserved, and maintained. It is not, however, something we are particularly adept at. 

Augusta needs to learn to take care of its toys. 

Recently, there was significant outrage over the removal of trees on Broad Street. The truth is those trees needed to come down. They were not meant for an urban environment, were becoming unhealthy and hazardous to anyone susceptible to tripping over roots or buckled sidewalks and, as demonstrated by Helene, just one storm away from making a significant mess. I was sad to see them go but understood that it was time. I look forward to the day when new, healthy trees once again line Broad and I hope a mature tree plan is in place to ensure that happens sooner rather than later.  

Critics declared that the removal of the trees exposed a level of decay and destitution previously masked by greenery. While I find it difficult to believe that there was anyone surprised by dilapidated storefronts once the trees came down, I am grateful that it got people talking about them again. Augusta has a remarkable downtown, architecturally speaking, with exceptional examples of architecture spanning some 200 years. But it needs to be appreciated and, more than that, cared for. If it takes trees disappearing for people to bemoan the neglected state of mid-century showrooms, 19^th century residences and perhaps even the odd 18^th century house of worship, I’m relieved. The truth is Augusta has a long and not very proud history of building but not maintaining. Be it weeds creeping over headstones at a historic cemetery or the works of famed architect I.M. Pei falling into disrepair like the Lamar Building penthouse, we are pretty poor stewards of our cultural artifacts.  

Even recent additions, such as the much-maligned Georgia Golf Hall of Fame & Botanical Gardens and Riverwalk Augusta – both completed during my adult lifetime – have become crumbling reminders of promised prosperity. We are excellent at execution without ever putting preservation into long-term plans. Many will blame Augusta-Richmond County, which may bear some of the load, but not all. The truth is we all are responsible for ensuring that both the art, artifacts, and architecture that make Augusta unique are taken care of. I understand that the sculpture “Tower of Aspiration” – an abstracted interpretation of a church steeple at Springfield Village Park - is not to everyone’s taste. But that does not mean it is not a significant work by a significant American artist. It’s a gift to this community and part of its diverse cultural identity. It needs to be taken care of. 

I know this because Jacopo Tintoretto, an artist often critiqued and occasionally derided in his time and town, showed me it was true. 

We need to always be demonstrating we can have nice things.