Of course the animals belong at the zoo, but what does “Hallelujah” mean for Charleston? How is it representative of West Virginia?

According to the exhibit’s information, “Paley described the sculpture’s function as a symbol of diversity, vitality and dynamism of the arts and culture of West Virginia.”

In another statement, Paley explained his abstract sculpture with an abstract statement: “It is what it is.”

Just like any art, “Hallelujah” can only be what it is in the eye of the beholder – and as long as it is being beheld, it is granted life by the community.

To accompany the exhibit and harbor this communal conversation, the Clay Center scheduled two symposia to discuss “Hallelujah.” The first, which was last month, discussed the engineering that keeps the sculpture stable and upright (even though it is heavier than the average home). The second discussion, which will be Jan. 15, will be a dialogue about the aesthetics of the sculpture.

“My vision [of the discussion] is like a town hall meeting,” Racker said. “I hope that people who love the sculpture and people who don’t will come to talk about it.”

This discussion, which is funded by a grant from the West Virginia Humanities Council, is free and open to the public. The four local artists serving on the discussion panel are Jonathan Cox, Paula Clendenin, Chris Dutch and Robin Hammer.

“It’s a wonderful chance for people to hear what ‘Hallelujah’ means to local artists, their interpretations,” Ferguson said. “I think it’s a unique opportunity for people to hear from actual artists and their take on something that everybody has an opinion on.”

Both Dutch and Hammer are enthusiastic about the sculpture, and think that it is a perfect addition to the science and arts museum.

“It really did something for the Clay Center,” said Hammer, an artist who specializes in mixed media. “It lit up the front of the building. It was perfect. They’re not competing against each other, they’re fitting together like a really nice puzzle.”

Dutch, who specializes in stained glass and mosaic, thinks the sculpture both complements and completes the facade of the building, saying, “I like the size of it. It has an upward movement, which makes it seem taller. It’s almost like a tower: it could be an extension of the building.

“When the building opened it seemed very open and plain,” Dutch added. “It’s changed a lot since.”

In addition to discussing the size and vision of the structure, Racker also wants to discuss the choice of materials for the sculpture, particularly the reddish-brown Cor-ten. “[People] think of rust as bad, deteriorating,” Racker said. “Cor-ten creates a steel alloy that rusts to create its own patina – that is, protection. It stops the metal from corroding.”

The alloy also provides color without the inconvenience and expense of regular paint jobs, making it both durable and low-maintenance. The New River Gorge Bridge is made of the same material.

Finally, and most importantly, the discussion will address individuals’ opinions on “Hallelujah.”

What are people thinking when they look at the sculpture? What are their emotional responses to “Hallelujah”?

“I think it looks like an observatory, looking at the stars,” Hammer said. “Observatories have a shell over them, but it is like the mechanism without the shell.

He adds, “My friend thinks it looks like a crashed satellite.”

The Clay Center and its panel of artists have no objective to change anybody’s opinion on the sculpture, nor do they have any pretensions that they are capable of doing so; they do, however, invite the community to continue to observe, study and consider it at length.

“You need to look at it all times of day,” Hammer said. “It really does you well to walk around it from distances, then walk up underneath it. I love the way the light plays off it at different times of day.”