Lest anybody think my critical focus is too selective in pointing out Five Chicago Sculptures That Really Suck, I present evidence that problematic public art is no stranger to the suburbs.

I'm frequently at the Arlington Heights train station and often walk past a piece of public art that looks like a latter-day British phone booth. It's nicely styled, painted bright red, and looks inviting to anybody looking to have a private cellphone conversation. Last week, I needed to call my podcast cohorts, who were meeting me at the station. Lured by the visual promise of privacy, I took out my cellphone and stepped inside the booth.

To my surprise, this structure turned out to be a piece of public art that's designed to make you feel miserable. It's called "Cell Phone Booth," and a plaque next to it details the feelings of its creator, artist Ed Francis:

"Cell Phone Booth" is my somewhat cynical reaction to the proliferation and overuse of the cell phone. I made "Cell Phone Booth" attractive by painting it bright red and filling it with gleaming glass tiles. The glass tiles actually contain ugly and somewhat intimidating faces staring in at you. There is no place to sit and be comfortable as there is in a real phone booth. Openings between the bars prevent any feeling of privacy inside the booth. "Cell Phone Booth" is intended to feel like a jail once you are inside.

OK, let me get this straight: Mr. Francis, who apparently has a problem with rude people who use cellphones, created a phone booth designed to reduce the comfort level of considerate cellphone users who are mindful of others' privacy?

And please don't tell me that my negative reaction is Mr. Francis' way of making a point, because he actually fails to make his point. "Cell Phone Booth" is structurally and visually a nice piece of art, but imagine how much more positive a reaction Mr. Francis could have gotten if the glass faces were smiling, the openings between the bars eliminated, and his manifesto read:

"Cell Phone Booth" is my reaction to the proliferation and overuse of the cell phone. I made "Cell Phone Booth" attractive by painting it bright red and filling it with gleaming glass tiles. The glass tiles actually contain happy, smiling faces staring in at you. There is no place to sit and be comfortable as there is in a real phone booth, but there is a modicum of seclusion. "Cell Phone Booth" is intended to feel like a tiny oasis in our busy, noisy world.

Clearly that's not what Mr. Francis had in mind, so the result is that an artistically accomplished piece of work devolves into a simplistic political statement.

This piece was on temporary display, but thanks to the Arlington Heights Arts Commission, now is owned by the village.

This isn't ChicagoScope's first difference of opinion about the situation at Arlington Heights' train station. About this time last year, we took note of just how unfriendly the station can be.

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