by KRISTIAN GRAVENOR

When legendary strongman and local oddball Antonio Barichievich - better known as the Great Antonio - left this world in September 2003, many proposed a monument at his haunt at Rosemont's Beaubien Park.

The initiative appeared destined for success. Four thousand residents signed a petition supporting the plan. The city councillor for the district was an enthusiastic proponent, and Quebec's leading sculptor offered to do the artwork for free.

But Rosemont-Petite-Patrie borough mayor Denise Larouche's opposition has proved as immovable as the hulking Antonio himself once was.

Armand Vaillancourt, the legendary artist and sculptor, bemoans the borough's refusal of his offer. "Everybody would be happy if it was there," says Vaillancourt. "The public in the street, they don't stop talking to me about that."

Vaillancourt has a computer model of the sculpture which entails a boulder, positioned on a steel plate. On a nearby wall the shadow of the monument symbolizes the ongoing presence of Antonio's soul.

Naïve, vain and effervescent

Like so many Montrealers, Vaillancourt happily recounts his unusual encounters with Antonio, including one from the '70s. "He saw me opposite the library east of the bus terminus. I had a big beard and strong body back then. He said, ‘Come with me to Granby tonight, I need you to wrestle with me.' ‘Are you crazy?' I said. He said, ‘I already have three guys with beards, I need a guy like you.'" Vaillancourt declined.

"The Great Antonio is this magic man with his effervescence and vanity," Vaillancourt continues. "He was naïve in the way he projected himself in society, and was rejected because he was very poor and not in the best shape physically, but I always had admiration for people like that."

Along with Larouche, the other Rosemont district councillor, François Purcell, also opposes the monument. The two have spurned fellow Vision Montreal councillor for Rosemont, Jean-François Plante.

"People want to validate Antonio," says Plante. "For the first time we'd be honouring somebody other than a politician. Unfortunately there are people here - I hate to say it because they're colleagues - who'd honour a Prime Minister or a mayor but won't consider honouring somebody marginal like this."

Plante says the voter-folk haven't taken the decision well. "The people are very, very disappointed, enormously disappointed."

Larouche - who did not return phone queries about the issue - has argued that accepting a free offer of art on a public space would start a precedent. Others might then argue that the city must also accept their donated artwork too.

"What she says is true," says Plante. "But that's still not a reason to block the monument. It's the politicians who decide." Plante proposes other ways around the red tape, such as payment for the artist or the creation of a special foundation to deal with the monument.

Avant-garde genius?

Perhaps the Montrealer still most determined to see it happen is Griffintown sculptor Marcus Macdonald, whose lifelong fascination with the giant started when Antonio spontaneously decided to pull a city bus. "He hauled the bus for two blocks," recalls Macdonald. "It was

-20 C. We were all bundled up and here's this colossus, wearing next to nothing, clothed in tatters wearing a massive chain around his neck like jewellery. Then he got onto the bus steaming from the effort, each step making the bus rock back and forth."

Macdonald, who was curating an art exhibit on Antonio at the time of his death, cites Antonio's customized postcards as evidence of "his awareness of being unique and very much alone in his vision. He believed in his own importance. He was the essence of an avant-garde genius. Playing golf with your dreadlocks has this surreal dada beauty. He had a great sense of humour."

Macdonald considers the oddball strongman a performance artist who was "part of our culture, our heritage."

He says a monument must happen. "I think it's essential. I believe Antonio is the quintessential Montrealer because Montreal is a quirky city. I think it's important to remember these people for our collective memory. It's sad to think there are people in power that would rather forget.

"He touched so many people," says Macdonald. "A lot of people didn't realize how deeply until he died."