Between Symbol and Figure, Thomas J. Price in Times Square
In the time of Saint Augustine, Manichaeism was one of the dominant spiritual threats. This worldview, built upon stark divisions between light and darkness, good and evil, body and soul, left a lasting imprint on Western thought. Today, Manichaeism hasn’t disappeared; it has merely migrated from religion to public discourse, especially in debates around art: is the work symbolic or figurative, political or personal, representative or critical? In Times Square, a sculpture by artist Thomas J. Price recently appeared: a bronze figure of a young African American woman, dressed in everyday clothes, standing with her hands on her hips. Positioned at the heart of capitalism and media saturation, this sculpture sparked a wave of responses, ranging from praise for its inclusivity to critiques that it represents an “empty” or even “dangerous” symbol. The sculpture, Grounded in the Stars, is on view in Times Square from April 29 to June 17, 2025.
However, I would argue that art should not be reduced to a single meaning. It doesn’t operate through the hard logic of “either-or,” but through the spaciousness of “both-and.” The figure is both symbol and experience, both embodied presence and critique. This perspective is reinforced by the reflections of Theodor W. Adorno, who warned that modern society tends to suppress the autonomous potential of art through ideological reduction. In his Aesthetic Theory, he writes, "Every work reduced to a single meaning loses its true artistic nature."
What does this mean for Price’s sculpture? Its status as a figure doesn’t make it merely representational. Its identity as a young Black female body doesn’t reduce it to a political statement. Its presence in a public space doesn’t render it purely an ornament or critique. It simply exists. And in that very “thereness,” it becomes a site of possible readings, a field of interpretation that compels us to abandon the Manichaean model of reception. Many criticisms aimed at this kind of public art follow the line: either it’s genuinely radical, or it’s empty. But what if these two positions aren’t in opposition? What if it is precisely their unresolved tension that makes art art? Consider the sculpture’s body: it is neither heroic nor passive. It is a body that exists in space, seeking neither our admiration nor our submission. It is an everyday body that halts our gaze precisely because it demands nothing spectacular. And it is in that restraint that it becomes political, not because it “fights,” but because it exists.
Price also raises the question of gender. In a context shaped by long-standing male dominance in public space, where bodies are either idealized or degraded, this figure redirects the visual tradition. It neither affirms maleness as the neutral default nor opposes it through a new ideological form. Instead, it poses the question: what does it mean to be seen as a woman, as a Black person, as an ordinary human being? And it refuses to provide the answer. To speak of public art today is to acknowledge that the work does not belong solely to the artist, nor solely to the community, but to that grey zone in between. Price’s figure is neither an icon we must love nor a provocation we must denounce. It is an object that invites us to think about the body, about space, about gender, and about the images that dominate, as well as those that are missing. It’s not enough to say “this is a symbol” or “this is a realistic figure.” It is an artwork, both symbol and figure, both gesture and critique, both provocation and, perhaps… just sculpture. That indeterminacy, or more precisely, that layered complexity, is what makes art essential in a society where everything must have a function, a position, and a clear title. In a media-saturated space like Times Square, perhaps the very act of standing still, remaining silent, and embracing ambiguity is the most powerful gesture one can make. Not to shout, but to exist. Not to explain, but to remain between symbol and figure.
And once again, let us recall Adorno: “Art is not a mirror held up to reality, but a hammer with which to shape it.”
