Heavy issue

Forget Paul Revere and Sam Adams; the town that loves its monuments and statues has one more to contend with, a three-ton bronze teddy bear.

Having persuaded bankrupt retailer F.A.O. Schwarz last year to hand over its hallmark statue as a "gift to the children of Boston," the city now could be faced with the daunting task of deciding where it belongs. The ailing Back Bay toy store planned to sell off the last of its Barbies and model Corvettes and close its doors for good yesterday. And if a new tenant doesn't want the bear out front, the city will have to move it.

"Any prospective tenant, the first thing they're going to see is the bear on the sidewalk," said Geoffrey Reynolds, a Back Bay commercial real estate broker. "They're going to say, `So what's the story with the bear?' "

Representatives of Hines, lessor and co-owner of 222 Berkeley St., declined to comment. But Reynolds said the massive statue, with its right arm frozen in a campy wave and colorful F-A-O blocks tumbling down the front, could be a "deal-killer" for a business trying to project a serious image. "They may find that it was a little bit of a deterrent." But in history-obsessed Boston, where the Citgo sign is protected by the Boston Landmark Commission and the razing of a Tip-Top Tomato warehouse sparked public outrage, the F.A.O. bear has become a beloved landmark, crossing a line between corporate logo and community icon. The prospect of a move has incited possessive rhetoric among members of an adoring public, elected officials, and neighborhood groups.

"We love our bear," said Meg Mainzer-Cohen of the Back Bay Association, which intends to fight to keep it close to its current home at the corner of Berkeley and Boylston streets. "It fits a very special place in Back Bay's fabric, and in Boston."

The teddy bear, a three-dimensional version of the F.A.O. Schwarz corporate logo, was created by Woburn sculptor Robert Shure, whose work includes a bronze relief of Ted Williams at the Ted Williams Tunnel and logo sculptures for Donald Trump. Cast in a Rhode Island foundry, the bear was installed outside FAO Schwarz in 1991. It proved so popular that several others were cast for stores across the country.

Now, among the multitude of shoppers, walkers, and residents who pass through the Back Bay on any given day, it is hard to find someone who doesn't have strong feelings about the bear, or opinions about its fate. Some said it should be shipped to the Rose Kennedy Greenway or any other park that's built at the site of the old elevated Central Artery. Others thought it works better at Boston Common, or the Public Garden, where it might complement Mrs. Mallard and her bronze ducklings. Or it could go on the Commonwealth Avenue mall, somewhere between Leif Erikson and Alexander Hamilton. "Just someplace nice so everybody could see it," said Jan Dumas of Brighton, who stopped by F.A.O. Schwarz to buy Barbie dolls for her collection last week.

Many stress that their opinions are not mere whim. "The bear's an important landmark in the Back Bay," said Michael P. Ross, a city councilor who represents the neighborhood. "It helps promote the local business economy."

Intense affection for 12-foot F.A.O. teddy bear statues isn't confined to Boston, as it turns out. Last week, two similar bears from F.A.O. Schwarz stores being liquidated in Seattle and West Palm Beach, Fla., fetched more than $11,000 apiece on eBay.

Doug Hartley of Bainbridge Island, Wash., bought one of them with an idea of putting it at a day-care center he runs with his wife. He had not set out to spend so much. After an initial bid of $152.50, he said, "It definitely got out of hand."

Boston's bear, however, has been elevated to a unique status as public art. City officials say its relocation would undergo Boston's famously assiduous review process, with scrutiny from the Boston Redevelopment Authority's urban design department, the Boston Art Commission, and possibly the Public Improvement Commission. "There was a public process that led to its installation at the site," BRA spokeswoman Meredith Baumann said. "For it to be removed, it would have to go through a similar process."

The various commissions and panels would consider anything from size (at 12 feet tall and 8 feet wide, it would dwarf the duck statues in the Public Garden, officials said), traffic patterns (placing it near a busy street could cause traffic jams when drivers slow to look at it), and aesthetic factors.

"It's got to relate to the environment," said Sarah Hutt, director of public art for the Boston Art Commission.

Some feel the city has crossed a line in adopting the bear, letting sentiment overtake fiscal responsibility. Cost estimates for moving the bear run as high as $10,000.

"Burn the bear," said Paul Howard, a Malden resident who passes the statue every day during walks downtown. He added sarcastically, "Save it? Why not? We have plenty of money."

Others smirk and offer not-quite-practical placement options: City Councilor Paul J. Scapicchio mused that, with the Enchanted Village gone from City Hall Plaza, the bear might substitute. "We should enclose it in a tent and charge people $1 each to see it," he said, tongue in cheek.

But most gush with affection and say it provides a good balance to Boston's gray-bearded view of what is considered a public monument. "We take ourselves very seriously here in Boston," the Back Bay Association's Mainzer-Cohen said. "But there's just nothing serious about a 12-foot teddy bear."

Donovan Slack can be reached at dslack@globe.com