Three Points Where Two Lines Meet

While some Torontonians are still baffled about Nyctophilia (2014) by Young & Giroux, their public art Three Points Where Two Lines Meet (2018) has generated even more controversy in the press since its construction. Three Points is a large-scale steel structure that resembles a toy scaffold. Some critics have criticized it for failing to beautify its neighbourhood, while others praise its bluntness in addressing Toronto’s rapid development and never-ending construction. Such conflicting views about Three Points have led to my reflection on public art and its role in the community. More specifically, I’d like to discuss what it has achieved and what it has failed to do as public art.

Three Points, with its crane-like appearance, is a direct representation of how art can “build” the city and community. Like the artists stated, “visual art isn’t just for downtown Toronto. Culture should be evenly distributed.” As the artists’ effort to disrupt the routine, Three Points adds a theatrical backdrop to the residents’ everyday lived experience. By placing this site-specific artwork in a neighbourhood with little public art, the artists have successfully drawn attention to Toronto’s Ward 12 - St. Paul’s, an area that hosts many working-class residents.

Moreover, the artists confessed that they had tried to fill the space to the edge, reaching the maximum breadth and height while leaving room for existing utility poles and street signs. This direct response to the abandoned traffic island delineates the space’s three-dimensional outline and makes Three Points exceptionally site-specific. Three Points also mediates the busy intersection where pedestrians, car commuters, and bikers pursue their own direction. As drivers approach the intersection where Bathurst Street and Vaughan Road merge, their vision will be stimulated by the colourful Three Points, which in turn slows them down. More importantly, Three Points resonates with Toronto’s rapid growth as Canada’s largest city, where the never-resting cranes symbolize the city’s vitality and create space for people seeking opportunities.

Nevertheless, Three Points as public art has certain downsides. Even though the artists had wished to create an “urban room,” the space enclosed by the artwork is not really a place to linger. Surrounded by heavy traffic on three sides, the “room" is noisy and uncomfortable. Although the structure’s bright primary colours remind me of toys, the space itself is not safe for children to play in. Some critics have voiced negative feedback for its visual aesthetics, but to me, appearance is not even the main concern. The steel girders sitting on a significantly smaller base simply seem too unsteady in perception. Despite the city engineers’ safety reassurance, the overhanging steel’s sheer scale can overwhelm the pedestrians walking underneath. And perhaps that’s the point: Three Points’ oversized presence is a daily reminder of how construction has come to dominate and transform so much of Toronto. 

When art leaves the gallery space and starts to interact directly with the community, there is much to consider. Three Points might not be perfect, but it marks a great starting point for public art to serve Toronto’s diverse communities.