To many in Ballarat, it was a sonorous public celebration of diversity and inclusion; to others it was no more and no less than ugliness run rampant - a tacky, even embarrassing, exhibition wholly inconsonant with the prevailing heritage character of the historic city.
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So, what ever happened to the ironically-dubbed harmony sculpture?
HAVE YOUR SAY BELOW: Should the harmony sculpture return?
It turns out this polarising public artwork - surprisingly or unsurprisingly created by City of Ballarat's in-house art team for as little as $4,500 - has been gathering dust in a council depot for the last five years.
"It's a rare thing for an art installation that was only ever meant to be temporary to be so strongly embraced yet so polarising," said City of Ballarat mayor Daniel Moloney, adding that even the art team was mystified at both the love and hatred it inspired.
"This one was definitely the most talked about art installation in recent years."
At the time, much of the criticism levelled at the sculpture turned on its perceived lack of aesthetic appeal, with many critics quick to invoke what Cr Moloney called the dreaded "H-word" - heritage.
To the careful reader, unfamiliar with the particulars of this debate, that in itself is peculiar, given the art installation was, as council says, only ever meant to be temporary.
But was it? And this, readers, is where things get more interesting.
The sculpture was, as is widely known, initially installed at the intersection of Ripon and Mair streets in 2016, before being returned to storage in October that year following council angst at the heated community division it had given rise to.
In April 2017, however, City of Ballarat councillor Des Hudson boldly indicated the sculpture would be taken out of storage and embark on a city-wide tour.
But the promised peregrination of the ill-fated sculpture proved short-lived; it only making it to Alfred Deakin Place, where it stood sentinel in the cold harsh light of day for one month, before again being cast back to the darkness.
It is unknown whether the sculpture was, at the time, subject to yet more public vitriol, but what is a matter of public record is that a new home for it was never identified, notwithstanding the assurances of council officers one would be found.
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This, it transpires, was because council had, in the interim, realised their now disbanded public arts advisory committee had never approved the artwork for permanent installation, thereby conveniently consigning the sculpture - and the controversy it carried - to the dustbin of history.
Until now, that is.
Resident Sean Mulcahy, an academic with a long history of working with LGBTIQA+ communities, recently inquired with council as to the sculpture's status.
In answer, City of Ballarat director of community wellbeing Matthew Wilson confirmed the sculpture had been quietly decommissioned.
"The installation was constructed as a temporary activation," he said, referencing its unhappy history. "The installation was then decommissioned."
But the decision to decommission the work was, in Dr Mulcahy's view, misguided, given both the powerful message of inclusion the sculpture conveyed and the resounding 'yes' vote for marriage equality in Ballarat.
"It has come to be seen as a symbol of inclusion for the LGBTIQA+ people in Ballarat," he said. "So, to put it away in storage forever would be a terrible shame."
"With the development of [council's] new LGBTIQA inclusion plan, now would be an ideal opportunity to bring the sculpture back into public life."
It was a sentiment shared by Cr Moloney, who said that he, too, hoped that at least some iteration of the sculpture would return to the fore.
"I'd love to see it come back," he said. "Whether it be for a future pride month or whether we find it a permanent location."
Under current council policy, one way in which public art can be approved is via an advisory committee recommendation, followed by council endorsement. To that end, Cr Moloney has indicated he'd raise the matter with the LGBTIQA+ advisory committee this week.
All of which is to say, dear readers, the final chapter of this divisive sculpture was, and is, yet to be written.
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