Cyril Lixenberg, the charming sculptor from Amsterdam, knows at least two dentist jokes. One is more of a curse, actually, that goes something like "may all your teeth fall out but one, and that should give you a toothache."
The second he hatched on his own, in the swift moment of excitement that followed a phone call informing the 74-year old artist that he had just been commissioned to design and build his tallest work yet: a 33-foot sculpture commemorating Grand Rapids' place in history as the first city in the world to fluoridate a public water supply.
The pioneering move, made in January 1945, was a revolution in oral hygiene at the time. Countless cities around the world quickly followed Grand Rapids' lead, helping to drive a 65 percent decline in what was once a shocking rate of human tooth decay.
"I'm toothless…err...speechless," Lixenberg recalled saying to Tim Chester, former director of the Grand Rapids Public Museum and a member of the Fluoride Sculpture Committee, upon hearing the news. "This piece is going to be strong."
That was some eight months ago. Today, Lixenberg is holed up in the grimy backroom at Lietelt Iron Works, a metal shop on the city's Westside. He's "twisting and tormenting" massive sections of three-quarters-inch steel. Spot welding them together with the help of Doug Barnes, a metal worker at Leitelt. And preparing to put the finishing touches on a monstrous piece of public art that will become the brilliant blue centerpiece of the city's newest square, in front of perhaps its most luxurious hotel, the rising JW Marriot, beside the rushing Grand River.
"I'm very impressed by the Grand," Lixenberg said. "It has got its own way. Basically, this piece will be an homage to water."
A Monumental Health Achievement
Lixenberg's "Steel Water" will add to an already impressive cache of public sculptures in downtown Grand Rapids. La Grande Vitesse, for example, created by the internationally renowned Alexander Calder, is the city's most symbolic piece. The radiant red metal stabile, measured at 43 feet high and weighing in at 42 tons, dominates the public plaza next to City Hall. There's Night Flight designed by John Parker in honor of President Gerald Ford; Maya Lin's Ecliptic ampitheatre; and the bronze Soldier's Monument, designed by Leon Coquard, to commemorate Civil War veterans.
Lixenberg's work is the latest, and many hope the last, phase in a decades-long movement to permanently recognize the city's innovation of water fluoridation, an event widely regarded as one of the earliest and most significant advancements in preventative health care.
By all accounts, oral health was miserable prior to 1945. The majority of Americans lost their teeth by age 25, according to background information prepared by the city's volunteer Fluoride Sculpture Committee, and it was not unusual for high school aged kids to wear full dentures. Dr. Willard VerMeulen, a local dentist, once reminisced about fitting dentures for as many as 25 patients a week.
To combat tooth decay, the National Institute of Health named Dr. H. Trendley Dean the country's first dental officer. Dean, drawing on a modest amount of scientific research, led a major study which ultimately linked fluoride in the drinking water supply to the prevention of tooth decay.
Grand Rapids was chosen to test the new idea on a public scale because of its ready access to a clean, consistent water supply. The benefits were so clear, convincing, and immediate that cities like Muskegon, MI, Newburgh, NY, and Brampton, ON quickly followed Grand Rapids' lead. Today more than 10,000 communities in the United States alone fluoridate the public water supply, according to the materials compiled by the Fluoride Sculpture Committee. And dentists now are placing considerably fewer dentures, more like four or five a year.
Smile Grand Rapids
A blue ribbon task force was established in the late 1980's to recommend ways Grand Rapids could celebrate the 50th anniversary of the scientific achievement. Mark Heckman, a local artist, got the jump on the committees work and proposed placing a giant molar on a pole in the Grand River. But, with limited funding and feelings for a less graphic tribute, the committee ultimately decided on a simple white marble monument situated in Louis Campau Promenade.
Turns out that location was right at ground zero of the new $120 million elliptical J.W. Marriot hotel. Rather than relocate the aging marble monument, local dentists and historians seized the opportunity to commission a new artwork that both recognizes Grand Rapids place in public health history and compliments the new glass and steel hotel. Enter Cyril Lixenberg, who competed against a pool of artists to win the job.
"They made me promise not to tell dentist jokes," Lixenberg said with a grin.
When photographer Brian Kelly and I paid a recent visit to the metal shop where the fun-loving Lixenberg is working we found his 33-foot tall, 10,000 pound mass of twisted metal lying on its side, unpainted, and surrounded by a collection of Industrial Era metal stamping machines.
"I'm excited about this commission," he said. "I just hope [the sculpture] relates to everything around it. The site is a mess with construction so it's all a little difficult to envision. And I can't compete with that hotel. It's huge."
Lixenberg and Doug Barnes we're busy making sure the structure is straight and secure with plenty of strong welds. Work is moving right along, Lixenberg said, and soon they'll be sandblasting, priming, and painting.
"Everything about this, except some of my services of course, is being done locally," he said. "The cutting, transporting, painting, assembling, everything. It's all Grand Rapids firms."
The piece is expected to be completed by July, Lixenberg said, crawling through the bent waves of steel to have his picture taken, and it will likely be placed on site this September around the time the new hotel opens.
"Do I look like an artist," he jokingly asked as Brian Kelly snapped the shutter. "This is my dentist smile?"
Photos:
Cyril Lixenberg in front of his latest creation (lying on its side)
Cyril Lixenberg and Andy Guy discuss the fabrication process
Cyril Lixenberg and the smile that charmed dentists across the region
The 33' sculpture from above (lying on its side)
Metal worker Doug Barnes grinds the metal smooth
Doug Barnes and Cyril Lixenberg
Photographs by Brian Kelly - All Rights Reserved