Current Event

by Linda Longo   
Posted December 20, 2007

West Orange answers the question: How many artists does it take to make a point about conserving energy?

Unlike a filibuster, it won’t drone on and on. But like that parliamentary gambit, West Orange’s Great Light Way exhibition does aim to stave off disaster—of an environmental kind. Think of it as a filament buster.

If you’ve driven through town this summer, you’ve probably spotted some of the 21 brightly painted lightbulb sculptures that have been placed at intersections and other prominent outdoor locations. The 5-foot-high fiberglass forms follow the public-art tradition of the Cow Parade, which dozens of cities around the world (including West Orange in 2001) have put on as charity fundraisers since the first one turned the streets of Chicago into a “moo-seum” in 1999.

But the Great Light Way is West Orange’s own creation, and the iconic shape of the sculptures pays tribute to the life-changing invention of the city’s all-time resident genius.

Tom Edison would be surprised to learn that we now have too much of his good thing. Mayor John F. McKeon’s hope is that the whimsical art will call attention to his serious goal of putting West Orange on what he calls an Energy Diet and reducing its electricity consumption this year by 20 percent. Local businesses sponsored the bulbs—each bulb becoming a canvas (and eco-soapbox) for one or more New Jersey artists.

When artist Ellen Hanauer’s bare bulb was delivered to her Livingston garage, the shape instantly made her think of Humpty Dumpty—“a great metaphor for the fragile state of the Earth,” she says. “Right now, it’s teetering. What happens next is up to us.” In addition to her Saving Humpty Dumpty, Hanauer painted another bulb, called Collective Energy, showing a multitude of hands holding up the planet.

A lightbulb, whose shape resembles a cartoon thought balloon as well as the proverbial trial balloon, is a handy metaphor for ideas—something the artists had plenty of. West Orange artist Shawn Whelan covered his bulb with windmills. Gianluca Bianchino, a Little Falls resident, painted a satellite’s-eye-view of a massive hurricane.

No one is expecting a revolution. If people who see the bulbs are inspired to lower the AC a few notches, ride to work with a friend, or—all due respect to Edison—switch from incandescent bulbs to compact fluorescents, that would be a fine start. “Even if we only do a little bit more,” says Hanauer, “it all adds up to something.”