Artist John Grade's solution looked a little like a protest scenario: The sculptures were marched down from the museum to form a circle in a grassy field, where they were hosed down by the fire department like rowdy protesters.
I was among the "That's it?" faction. What was supposed to be a series of sculptures pitching and heaving like wild white Seussian ships dissolving at a rapid rate into the sea—in the end becoming invisible—instead ended in piles of white goo on some muddy grass. Kids running their hands through it were quick to describe it: "It's like wet toilet paper and whipped cream." Okay then.
At least there were collectibles. I guess.