POWER PLAY: FLOODWALL MURAL, MEET MR. SANDBLASTER

In the fall of 1989, the Berlin Wall was pulled down by hordes of happy Germans.

Though widely assumed by westerners that this was done as a symbol of the fall of communism and the right to engage in public vandalism that all free and democratic nations enjoy, that was not actually the case.

The real reason was that on the East German side of the wall there was a mural depicting -- in bright pastel hues -- Communist Party leaders as Jayne Mansfield's character in scenes from her late-1950s film classic "The Girl Can't Help It."

Although East Germany's political leaders were known around the world for their physical beauty and sex appeal, not to mention their stunning ability to forge sound economic policies, they were no Jayne Mansfields.

So once pro-Mansfield forces were toppled from power, East Berliners moved to rid themselves of a community eyesore.

Another little-known fact is that the same people who painted the Berlin Wall mural would later work similar magic on the Cape Girardeau floodwall.

Considering the reason we have a floodwall -- aside from having something to cover with murals -- the fine residents of Cape Girardeau are unlikely to bring the structure tumbling down. Not unless the Chamber of Commerce can swing a deal with Universal Studios to create a "Water World" Movie Stunt Spectacular as a downtown tourist attraction during flood season.

However, rest assured that one day an angry horde of artistically picky citizens will descend upon the wall with sophisticated sandblasting equipment.

Art is in the eye of the beholder and everyone is a critic.

When it comes to painting, music, acting, literature, professional wrestling and all other forms of artistic expression, there is absolutely nothing wrong with criticism. Art, in whatever form, exists to evoke emotional and intellectual responses from whoever looks at, listens to, reads or is body slammed by it.

So-called experts, however, too often get bogged down in mechanics and minor details -- complaining about a two-measure up-tempo surge in the fourth whatever, a certain style of brush stroke or use of a flying scissor kick when a simple roundhouse was all that was required.

In-depth analysis is not required to adequately examine an artistic endeavor. Either something is pleasant to the eyes, ears, spleen and other body parts required for maximum cultural enjoyment or it is not.

And even if something does not stimulate a positive response, that does not mean it is without artistic merit. The film "A Clockwork Orange," is at times revolting, but it is still a masterpiece, as is the Anthony Burgess novel, because of what it says about violent, immoral youth and the even more immoral measures taken to deal with them.

Conversely, something that looks or sounds nice isn't necessarily an artistic triumph. The music of Hootie in the Blowfish, for example, is pleasant sounding but derivative and wholly unremarkable.

Like most people, I may not know art in the sense of being able to hold an intelligent discussion with on Van Gogh with the curator of an impressionist museum, but I know what I hate.

And I hate the Cape Girardeau floodwall mural.

The mural has been up for about a year, and I really have tried to give it a chance to grow on me.

I've looked at it in different light at different times of the day.

I've looked at it from different angles.

I've even looked at it while sober on at least two occasions, and it still didn't improve.

The biggest complaint -- made by many mural critics, not just myself -- is the use of pastel colors. While such tones are fine when wallpapering a woman's bathroom, they don't translate nearly as well to a downtown business district.

The mural people attempted to tone down the dominance of those colors by adding a not entirely offensive shade of green in a few spots. Sadly, the only addition which be a sure improvement would be about a thousand gallons of industrial strength paint remover.

My second complaint involves the portraits of the famous Missourians depicted.

For the most part these representations are decent. However, it is extremely odd that the most important and powerful Missourian who ever lived -- well, actually the most important person after Walter Cronkite -- is the only one who's identity can't be determined from his portrait alone.

Pictured in full-body silhouette, the person represented looks like British Prime Minister Winston Churchill, minus Churchill's usual pronounced stoutness about the tum.

The picture is actually supposed to be President Harry S. Truman. However, the only way people know this is the large letters surrounding the image which read T-R-U-M-A-N.

The only U.S. president from this state and he has to be conspicuously labeled. That makes sense.

Sadly, this may just be the beginning. Unless its demands for increased funding for the arts are met, the group responsible has threatened to inflict other murals.

And we are powerless to stop them.

Marc Powers is a member of the Southeast Missourian news staff.