In India, they are fascinated by circles—the circle of life and death, the karmic wheel, the mandala, which maps the progression of your soul through the cosmos. Here in Sarasota, we also have circles. We have traffic roundabouts. And we have, apparently, the unique municipal superpower of buying expensive sculptures, hiding them in undisclosed locations, and then arguing about the concrete pedestals they sit on for so long that the momentum dies, the artists age, and the roundabouts sit there staring at you like a blank canvas that the city paid $358,000 to not paint.
—A Brief and Glorious Beginning (Followed Immediately by Everything Else)…
—Let me take you back, because context here is everything. When I moved to Sarasota 30 years ago, we had the Season of Sculpture. Artwork dotted the entire waterfront from Selby Gardens to the Ringling Bridge—sculpture after sculpture, year after year, a genuine cultural statement from a city that took itself seriously.
—Michael Saunders used to say we were “a small city with big-city amenities,” and it felt exactly right. We had an opera. We had very little traffic. People could park.
—Now we have big-city traffic, huge buildings going up everywhere, and an arts program that is somehow falling behind faster than a parking initiative that has never once paid for itself.
—It started with such energy. The roundabout art program came in hot. We had art going into the circles on U.S. 41, and we were saving the grand gesture for the major roundabout at the center of everything: the bottom of the Ringling Bridge. The gateway to the islands. The place where every tourist, every airport visitor, and every person who actually matters to the regional economy drives through and forms an immediate impression of what kind of city this is.
—Instead, we got a very expensive hole in the ground.
—The Part Where I Interrogate City Hall
—Because I am a journalist, and because staring at an empty roundabout eventually does things to a man’s psyche, I recently embarked on a vision quest. After calling several times, emailing into the void, and wandering the digital labyrinth of multiple City Hall departments, I finally tracked down Luke Mocherman, the City’s Communications Specialist.
—Luke, who was very polite, provided me with the official, unvarnished facts regarding our roundabout art.
—Let me translate these facts from Municipal Bureaucracy into English, starting with the roundabout at Fruitville Road and U.S. 41.
—According to Luke, the Public Art Committee selected artwork for Fruitville way back in 2023. But it was never brought to the City Commission. Why? Due to “cost uncertainties.” Translated, this means the city realized how much a contractor was going to charge them to pour a circle of concrete and they quietly slid the proposal under a desk. Currently, funds are reserved to pay the artist, but absolutely zero Capital Improvement Plan (CIP) funds have been budgeted to design or build the base. We have a theoretical sculpture going on a non-existent pedestal paid for by imaginary money.
—The 10th Street Saga
—Then we have 10th Street and U.S. 41. Luke informed me that the art for this roundabout was approved in 2019. (For those keeping track at home, 2019 was before we even knew what a “supply chain issue” was.)
—The sculpture, a piece called Sarasota Seagrass by Casto Solano, has actually been fabricated! It exists! It is currently “awaiting shipment,” which is a terrifying phrase. But here is the punchline: The City has just now appropriated CIP funds for this fiscal year for the “design of the sculpture base and landscaping.”
—Read that carefully. They did not fund the construction of the base. They funded the design of the base. Once they finish imagining the concrete block, they can move forward with budgeting for the actual concrete block. At this pace, Sarasota Seagrass will arrive sometime in the 2030s, assuming it doesn’t get lost in the mail.
—The Main Event: Complexus Returns (Maybe. Eventually.)
—But what about the center of the universe? The gateway at Gulfstream Ave and U.S. 41? The spectacular nothing?
—It didn’t start as a void! We used to have Complexus there—that edgy, modern red steel sculpture. When the roundabout was built, it was relocated to the Sarasota Art Museum. Well, Luke provided breaking news: The City actually wants to put Complexus back in the Gulfstream roundabout!
—But, naturally, there is a catch. Or rather, two catches.
—Catch Number One: The City is currently begging the Florida Department of Transportation for a “Community Aesthetic Feature height variance.” I am not making that phrase up. We cannot put our art back on our road until the state highway department grants us a Community Aesthetic Feature height variance.
—Catch Number Two: Complexus apparently got into a fistfight with the 2024 hurricane season and lost. The sculpture sustained significant damage and requires a “major restoration” scheduled for June. So, assuming the state grants our aesthetic variance, and assuming the welders can put our red steel back together, we might actually have art at the gateway to the islands again.
—A Commissioner Makes a Promise (Bless Her Heart)
I recently spoke with a city commissioner—one of my actual favorites—who looked me directly in the eye and said: “Stephen, I guarantee the sculptures are coming to the roundabouts.”
—I believed her. I wanted to believe her, in the exact same way you want to believe the contractor who says your kitchen will definitely be done by Thursday. And then it’s Thursday. And eventually you stop asking about Thursday and start asking about your emotional state.
—We paid for charrettes. We selected the artists. We held the meetings. The art exists. It is sitting in workshops and warehouses right now. Warehouses are for patio furniture and Christmas decorations, not the collected ambitions of the Sarasota public art program. Art belongs in the roundabouts, where 50,000 cars a day drive past and feel, for just a moment, that they live somewhere worth caring about.
—Here Is the Part That Actually Kills Me
—Thirty years ago, we ran the Season of Sculpture on the entire waterfront for about $300,000 a year. That is a third of what it now costs to pour a single concrete pedestal.
—As we’ve had this amazing waterfront development, we actually have LESS prominent art on our waterfront. A city that calls itself a cultural capital is quietly becoming less cultured, one deferred project at a time. It happens so slowly you don’t notice until you drive past a beautiful, empty roundabout for the four hundredth time and suddenly feel a very specific kind of grief.
—Look at the St. Armands entrance. It’s a disgrace. Instead of stately palms and a signature welcoming landscape, we spent all this money on lane-widening and rebuilding the little humpback bridge with zero investment in actual beauty. The sidewalks need to be cohesive. The planters need a vision. None of this requires the Property Brothers to fly in. This is Municipal Governance 101. It is a class Sarasota has been auditing for thirty years without earning a single credit.
—Our new city manager seems wonderful. But I will gently note that she comes from the Midwest, and her background is in forestry. This is excellent preparation for controlled burns, but historically not ideal training for stewarding one of Florida’s premier cultural cities.
—Tom Barwin, the former manager, had his detractors. But the roundabouts happened under his watch. He had a vision. What has happened since is a world bereft of vision—where a “visioning session” is basically just asking developers what tax incentives they would prefer. That is a bit like asking the fox what improvements he’d suggest for the henhouse.
—My Demands (There Are Only Two)
—I have not surrendered on this issue. I have been standing in the middle of that roundabout, metaphorically speaking, demanding accountability from anyone driving by at 20 miles per hour. We commissioned this art. We hold the receipts. The only thing standing between Sarasota and a beautiful, iconic public art program is FDOT variances, unbudgeted concrete, and approximately 47 more meetings that we simply must refuse to have.
—So here is what I am asking. Just two things, before the end of this year:
—First: Get the sculptures erected. Approve the height variance. Fund the pedestals. The dividends in property values, tourism, and the simple human feeling of living somewhere worth caring about will more than justify the investment. I promise you this. It will be great. That feeling is worth considerably more than another parking study.
—Second: Commission a real beautification plan for St. Armands Circle. Proper landscaped entrances, cohesive sidewalks, funded flood mitigation. Draw up the full tab. Figure out how to pay for it. And stop embarrassing us in front of the tourists.
—We are a great city in spite of City Hall. We deserve to be a great city because of it. There is a difference, and I have been standing in the roundabout long enough to know exactly which one we are.
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