HARTFORD -- In a building where political deception and intrigue are daily occurrences, an art mystery is emerging around a new half-million-dollar copy of the 19th-century statue that once stood at the very top of the state Capitol.
How could the 18-foot-tall bronze work called "The Genius of Connecticut" be so different from the original plaster model that computer designers copied with state-of-the-art laser imaging?
Or is the 5,500-pound statue, with its newly applied patina, really an exact duplicate of the winged "Daemon" that was created as an allegorical protector of Connecticut?
Ask the people who copied the bronze-coated plaster model of sculptor Randolph Rogers' original statue, which had stood inside the Capitol's north entrance for decades and is a mainstay of all tours, and they'll say the millions of points mapped by three-dimensional lasers and turned into computer-aided designs are exact within a fraction of a millimeter.
The artisans at the Polich Tallix foundry in Rock Tavern, N.Y., who turned the designs into molds, cast the statue in more than 20 pieces, then welded them together, say their process is totally true to the 2007 laser calculations.
But Capitol workers and visitors are noticing subtle-but-real deviations in the face of the new "Genius," which was hoisted atop a $30,000 marble pedestal and had its two 700-pound wings bolted on last week under the 257-foot-high dome in the Capitol rotunda.
Gone now is the pouting mouth of the plaster model a few feet away.
And the eyes that looked down on generations of visitors from around the world now seem to be looking toward a higher horizon. Some think the new statue is even a little cross-eyed. Maybe it was the way the silicon creation cooled from the 2,000 degrees when it was poured into the molds.
"I see differences, but I'm not sure how to define them," said Eric Connery, facilities administrator for the Capitol complex who supervised the nearly five-year project, which still needs $200,000 to finally hoist the sculpture back atop a reinforced dome.
"Theoretically, it shouldn't be any different. But maybe the data from the scanning were interpreted differently," Connery said. "No two people I've talked to have seen the same differences. Maybe it's the patina that makes the two seem different."
Kim Fabrizio, director of Capitol Information and Tours, walked back and forth the 40 feet between the two pieces this week, shook her head and smiled. "There appears to be a slight difference in the face," Fabrizio admitted, staring up at the new statue. "It's still a beautiful and amazing work of art."
The mystery goes back to the early spring of 2005, when lawmakers, enjoying a year with a billion-dollar, tax-fueled state surplus, approved $330,000 to make a one-ton, poly resin copy of Rogers' 1877 work, which was put on top of the Capitol's "lantern" at the pinnacle of the gold-leafed dome in 1878.
Maintenance workers cleaning up after the infamous Hurricane of 1938 noticed that the statue's moorings had been loosened, so the piece was hauled off the Capitol for safe-keeping. But in 1942, it was melted down and turned into ammunition in the World War II effort and lost forever. Eventually, the full-size plaster model was pulled out of storage, given a bronze coating and displayed in the Capitol.
Engineers in the early planning stages of the new statue declared that a lightweight resin would literally take wing, so the price tag doubled and state funding was threatened several times before finally getting approval to finish casting.
In August of 2007, Direct Dimensions Inc., a computer-design firm from Owings Mills, Md., had a team in the Capitol that used three different kinds of lasers to track and map every surface of the statue, from its feet with the Roman toes -- a second toe longer than the big toe -- up through her flowing robes to her head, wings and outstretched arms.
Harry Abramson, art director for Direct Dimensions, said in an interview from Maryland last week that, at the time, the mapping of the "Genius" model was the largest undertaking of its kind.
"Every visible surface there was captured," Abramson recalled. "The data were accurate to 5/1000ths of an inch. It was a milestone in the art world, capturing an existing sculpture in this size and resolution."
Marisa Lomonaco, project manager for Polich Tallix, who was at the Capitol for the installation earlier this month, said she didn't notice any differences between the new Genius and the model. "Our biggest mission here is to make replicas of sculptures," she said. "Whatever the artist did. It's really great to see the sculpture and the space is a great place."
The appointed and largely civilian Capitol Preservation and Restoration Commission, sensitive to the state's current multibillion-dollar financial crisis, last summer first voted to warehouse the new statue until Connecticut's finances turn around.
But the $11,000-a-month warehousing cost seemed daunting, and a month later, the panel, led by state Rep. Emil Altobello, D-Meriden, said it made more sense to build the pedestal and display the piece in the Capitol rotunda.
Whether it's the lighting, the patina, minor changes in the face or the way the bronze cooled, the sculpture will continue to spark debate. It has been controversial for years as lawmakers and the general public argued first whether it was an unnecessary extravagance and now, whether it should go back to the top of the dome.
"If it's going to go on the roof, it's not going to be appreciated," Abramson said.
Altobello, who helped save it from unseen storage, said the "Genius" is a good focus for arguments about art, light and even the upcoming 90th anniversary of women's suffrage in 2010.
"I think she's a more modern-looking woman," Altobello said last week after gazing at both statues for a while.
"The new one makes her seem more upbeat than the Victorian. After all, she's allowed to vote," he quipped. "She seems to have a broader gaze. They did a great job modeling and casting her. There's something that's just a little bit more modern in her."