Promises in Stone: Paul Ramírez Jonas and Public Trust

In 2016, Public Trust by Paul Ramírez Jonas debuted in Boston, transforming a plaza into a space for promises etched into stone or paper. Against a backdrop of divisive rhetoric, Ramírez Jonas's work poses a vital question: what does it mean to make a promise? Participants approach a desk to declare promises, ranging from the intimate—"I promise to call my mother every week"—to the collective—"I promise to vote in the next election." Each promise is inscribed on a display board alongside institutional promises drawn from recent headlines. The promise is also materialized, carved into stone or handwritten on paper. The aesthetic simplicity of the project belies its complexity. Juxtaposing personal oaths with institutional declarations creates a dialogue about trust, responsibility, and accountability. “When a government promises something, it has a ripple effect on the way we perceive personal promises,” Ramírez Jonas stated in a 2016 interview with Art in America. “The artwork becomes a living document of collective intention.” This interactivity places Public Trust within a lineage of participatory art, including Felix Gonzalez-Torres’s Untitled (Portrait of Ross in L.A.) and Suzanne Lacy’s The Oakland Projects. Unlike those works, which often focus on identity, Ramírez Jonas’s piece targets civic life infrastructures. The public promises displayed operate as a social contract, implicating both the individual and their community. At the heart of the project lies the question of trust—in others and in governing systems. This theme resonates in an era marked by political disillusionment and misinformation. The choice of materials like stone and paper underscores the fragility and permanence of promises. Stone evokes durability; paper suggests the ephemeral nature of commitments. Public Trust aligns with a resurgence in public art as a tool for political engagement. In 2020, Tania Bruguera’s Referendum critiqued surveillance and state control through public installations. Similarly, JR’s Inside Out Project transformed urban spaces into canvases for activism. These projects reflect a shift from monumental public art to dialogic, participatory works demanding audience interaction. Ramírez Jonas, based in New York and teaching at Hunter College, has long explored public participation and collective memory. His earlier work, Key to the City, prefigured the concerns of Public Trust. In that piece, participants received keys unlocking specific sites across New York City, redefining civic engagement and turning mundane objects into symbols of belonging. Claire Tancons, a curator and scholar, argues that works like Public Trust serve as "training grounds for democracy." Speaking to ARTDESENT, she noted, "In a moment when democratic norms are under strain globally, public art has an opportunity—and perhaps an obligation—to step into the void left by traditional civic institutions." The potential for art to mediate political discourse lies in its ability to create shared spaces of meaning. However, Public Trust raises questions about efficacy. Can participatory art effect change, or does it risk being subsumed into commodification? Ramírez Jonas is cautious. In the same Art in America interview, he reflected, "I’m not naive enough to think art can solve political problems. What it can do is raise awareness, create connections, and, perhaps, shift perspectives." As public art evolves, Public Trust reminds us of its potential to reshape civic engagement. By asking participants to declare and display promises, the project transforms a simple act into a public reckoning with accountability. The promises etched into stone may erode, but the conversations they spark endure. In a world defined by distrust, this might be public art’s most radical gesture: reimagining trust as a shared resource.