Richard Bergen
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
Typically, Bergen prefers to work with abstract pieces over representational forms like the Ad Astra figure. Even so, Bergen noted that “every project is a favorite” in some way or another, with 35-40 major sculptures in state. Some of his numerous works include the 7-foot wildcat at K-State or the Pony Express Rider sculpture in Marysville, Kansas. In the case of Ad Astra, Bergen was keen to win the commission of the Topeka Capitol project because it was a prestigious nationwide contest. Bergen wanted to submit a strong bid for Ad Astra, as it was a showcase piece meant to promote his work beyond the region. Bergen stressed that in a local competition like Ad Astra “your work needs to resonate with the local people”. Once Bergen heard about the call for a Topeka Dome topper, he made a point to visit the Kansas Arts Commission office where all submissions were kept for review. He noticed that many submissions showcased Native American figures and decided to develop his own spin on the theme. Here helpful inspiration came also from his wife, a retired librarian. She introduced Bergen to the important work of William Unrau, history professor at Wichita State University and the author of the first in-depth academic study of the Kansa people. Unrau’s book “The Kansa Indians: A History of the Wind People, 1673-1873” published 13 years earlier, was part of a wave of regional interest in local Native American peoples. The national success of the Osage writer John Joseph Matthews on the overlooked indigenous worlds in the Midwest might have sparked Unrau’s interest on the Kansa Indians.
Unrau, named Emeritus Distinguished Professor of History in 1996, was known nationally as a leading historian with a focus on Native American history. He published eleven books and even more articles about federal Indian policy and relations between the white and native populations. However, when Unrau researched the Kansa, he had some reservations: “When I first embarked on this study, a good friend and practicing historian suggested that, while the Kansa story needed to be told,” Unrau recalls in the introduction, “there probably was not enough information to develop a comprehensive narrative” (Unrau ix). Nevertheless, Unrau was aware that there was a renewed interest in Native American-ness. “[Pursuing this topic] seemed all the more appropriate in view of current efforts to encourage a sense of “Indianness” among the heirs of those who first inhabited parts of the Western Hemisphere. Thus in spite of an anticipated paucity of information and the unhappy prospect that the finished product might be considered dull and lackluster, this study was undertaken” (Unrau x). And by implication, Ad Astra is a result of this interest in Native culture and figures.
From the start in 1988, a lack of state financial backing (what a sadly familiar tune) hampered the realization of the 22-foot-tall Ad Astra statue (approximately the size of a 2 story house). In fact, the so-called solution was for Bergen himself to crowdsource the funds for the construction of the Ad Astra figure and later receive post-completion a $50,000 payment from the Kansas government. Incidentally, this money never materialized and, oh so shockingly, the state wasn’t in a rush to remedy that. After a drawn-out process, the state lost its copyright on the image of Ad Astra in exchange for a pass on the amount they owed Bergen. Against the odds, though, the energetic Bergen made money appear for his work. He decided to appeal to the people of Kansas and raised the necessary funds by marketing replicas of the Ad Astra statue in various sizes. One-foot tall miniatures were auctioned off and today they can be found in places such as the Topeka courthouse, the Dane G. Hansen Museum in Logan Kansas, and various local collections. Additionally, life-sized 8-foot tall replicas were available for purchase by cities, of which McPherson, Kansas purchased one. Bergen auctioned these works and sold dedication bricks for a plaza he planned to construct after the statue was in place. He estimated that it would take around $200,000 to complete the project, dome statue as well as a life-size scale replica of Ad Astra for a plaza. Unsurprisingly, the self-funding process delayed his actual construction and the completion of Ad Astra stalled for over a decade. Additionally, Bergen established a non-profit organization and the maintenance and eventual lapsing of this status caused more issues, one of which still delays the construction of the cultural information plaza to this day. However, in the end Bergen raised enough funds to finally start the project. “What many people don’t realize is that this is a gift to the state,” Bergen emphasized with pride, “there’s no tax money in the statue; it’s all been gifted.”
But casting the massive sculpture came with its own massive challenges. First, Bergen created a sketch and a life-size metal model. Next, he built a steel armature to support the frame for a cardboard form to hold a foam and warm clay figure. He used this early Ad Astra model to work on details once the clay layers had cooled. From the finished clay prototype molds for the current figure were made. Originally, Bergen had planned to sand-cast the statue in Kansas City. He changed to a lost-wax-casting process by a company in Loveland, Colorado because it was cheaper. Once cast, the indigenous figure was spray-painted in a green silicon-bronze patina. The Kansas Arts Commission specifically requested the unnatural skin color. They insisted on a green hulk-like indigenous figure that would match the oxidized roof of the Topeka copper dome.
The out of Kansas production, however, also forced Bergen to come up with a plan of how to transport the heavy figure back home. Bergen, again, turned a challenge into a creative opportunity. He used the extended journey from Colorado to Topeka, to introduce the Ad Astra figure and allow Kansans to interact with their new representative. Bergen obtained a flatbed truck, drove to Loveland himself, and personally oversaw the journey back to Kansas. Also, on the return trip across the state, Bergen made a 50-city tour, stopping to let Kansans have a look at Ad Astra up close. He would park the truck in central downtown or plaza areas and allow people to touch the figure if they wanted. Bergen’s daughter organized the outreach aspect of the expedition, calling cities along the route ahead of time to arrange public viewings as well as visits to various schools, giving young Kansans a chance to interact with their regional history. In towns such as Marysville, Goodland, and Colby, Kansas, the public responded enthusiastically, and many people expressed their approval of the Ad Astra: “Colby resident Don Davis, 67, said he’s tired of hearing about the controversies surrounding the statue. ‘I think this thing’s great…A lot of people are negative. But it’s a namesake for the state. Kansa Indian that’s where Kansas came from’” (LJWorld). Quite a number of people approached Bergen in person to compliment his work. In fact, Bergen was surprised by the reaction from the public: “I figured they’d pull in, look and walk away…They’ve really been interested and have spent a whole lot of time asking questions.” To this day Bergen stresses that Ad Astra made a difference to the people of Kansas; regardless of their backgrounds, Kansans found the sculpture spoke to them.
Unrau, named Emeritus Distinguished Professor of History in 1996, was known nationally as a leading historian with a focus on Native American history. He published eleven books and even more articles about federal Indian policy and relations between the white and native populations. However, when Unrau researched the Kansa, he had some reservations: “When I first embarked on this study, a good friend and practicing historian suggested that, while the Kansa story needed to be told,” Unrau recalls in the introduction, “there probably was not enough information to develop a comprehensive narrative” (Unrau ix). Nevertheless, Unrau was aware that there was a renewed interest in Native American-ness. “[Pursuing this topic] seemed all the more appropriate in view of current efforts to encourage a sense of “Indianness” among the heirs of those who first inhabited parts of the Western Hemisphere. Thus in spite of an anticipated paucity of information and the unhappy prospect that the finished product might be considered dull and lackluster, this study was undertaken” (Unrau x). And by implication, Ad Astra is a result of this interest in Native culture and figures.
From the start in 1988, a lack of state financial backing (what a sadly familiar tune) hampered the realization of the 22-foot-tall Ad Astra statue (approximately the size of a 2 story house). In fact, the so-called solution was for Bergen himself to crowdsource the funds for the construction of the Ad Astra figure and later receive post-completion a $50,000 payment from the Kansas government. Incidentally, this money never materialized and, oh so shockingly, the state wasn’t in a rush to remedy that. After a drawn-out process, the state lost its copyright on the image of Ad Astra in exchange for a pass on the amount they owed Bergen. Against the odds, though, the energetic Bergen made money appear for his work. He decided to appeal to the people of Kansas and raised the necessary funds by marketing replicas of the Ad Astra statue in various sizes. One-foot tall miniatures were auctioned off and today they can be found in places such as the Topeka courthouse, the Dane G. Hansen Museum in Logan Kansas, and various local collections. Additionally, life-sized 8-foot tall replicas were available for purchase by cities, of which McPherson, Kansas purchased one. Bergen auctioned these works and sold dedication bricks for a plaza he planned to construct after the statue was in place. He estimated that it would take around $200,000 to complete the project, dome statue as well as a life-size scale replica of Ad Astra for a plaza. Unsurprisingly, the self-funding process delayed his actual construction and the completion of Ad Astra stalled for over a decade. Additionally, Bergen established a non-profit organization and the maintenance and eventual lapsing of this status caused more issues, one of which still delays the construction of the cultural information plaza to this day. However, in the end Bergen raised enough funds to finally start the project. “What many people don’t realize is that this is a gift to the state,” Bergen emphasized with pride, “there’s no tax money in the statue; it’s all been gifted.”
But casting the massive sculpture came with its own massive challenges. First, Bergen created a sketch and a life-size metal model. Next, he built a steel armature to support the frame for a cardboard form to hold a foam and warm clay figure. He used this early Ad Astra model to work on details once the clay layers had cooled. From the finished clay prototype molds for the current figure were made. Originally, Bergen had planned to sand-cast the statue in Kansas City. He changed to a lost-wax-casting process by a company in Loveland, Colorado because it was cheaper. Once cast, the indigenous figure was spray-painted in a green silicon-bronze patina. The Kansas Arts Commission specifically requested the unnatural skin color. They insisted on a green hulk-like indigenous figure that would match the oxidized roof of the Topeka copper dome.
The out of Kansas production, however, also forced Bergen to come up with a plan of how to transport the heavy figure back home. Bergen, again, turned a challenge into a creative opportunity. He used the extended journey from Colorado to Topeka, to introduce the Ad Astra figure and allow Kansans to interact with their new representative. Bergen obtained a flatbed truck, drove to Loveland himself, and personally oversaw the journey back to Kansas. Also, on the return trip across the state, Bergen made a 50-city tour, stopping to let Kansans have a look at Ad Astra up close. He would park the truck in central downtown or plaza areas and allow people to touch the figure if they wanted. Bergen’s daughter organized the outreach aspect of the expedition, calling cities along the route ahead of time to arrange public viewings as well as visits to various schools, giving young Kansans a chance to interact with their regional history. In towns such as Marysville, Goodland, and Colby, Kansas, the public responded enthusiastically, and many people expressed their approval of the Ad Astra: “Colby resident Don Davis, 67, said he’s tired of hearing about the controversies surrounding the statue. ‘I think this thing’s great…A lot of people are negative. But it’s a namesake for the state. Kansa Indian that’s where Kansas came from’” (LJWorld). Quite a number of people approached Bergen in person to compliment his work. In fact, Bergen was surprised by the reaction from the public: “I figured they’d pull in, look and walk away…They’ve really been interested and have spent a whole lot of time asking questions.” To this day Bergen stresses that Ad Astra made a difference to the people of Kansas; regardless of their backgrounds, Kansans found the sculpture spoke to them.