Place, Audience and Historical Memory

We will look at works that depend on the audience to exit, and contemporary works where the line between audience and artist is blurred. How do these radical works redefine the role of the artist? Monuments are meant to insure memory, consideration and respect by another generation. How does a work have meaning in the context of the future?

Shimon Attie: Sites Unseen

Synopsis by Leigh Anne Langwell

Shimon Attie’s presentation began with a few general remarks about his artwork and the communities he created it for. He expressed an interest in the healing capacity that works of a more public and historical nature could contribute on both individual and community levels. Attie focused his presentation on an underlying theme that collective memory is the root of history, stating that he articulates relationships between place, memory and identity through imagery that both originates in and is superimposed upon marginalized communities whose histories are in the process of being forgotten. By layering visual information from lost Jewish communities over the architecture and landmarks of the present, he seeks to interrupt the denial and ignorance that are often glossed over,--or sometimes even generated by more traditional means of historical commemoration. Attie prefers a more immaterial means to mark the essence of a particular community in place and time, using light as structure upon which to bind memory. Slides, film and laser projection are utilized to create temporary site-specific works that live in the memory after the light is gone. His installations typically last about eight weeks or less as he feels that more permanent monuments relieve the public of the responsibility of remembrance.

Attie continued the presentation by showing specific projects that reflect his ideas along with commentary about his working process and materials. In his 1992 series, "The Writing on the Wall," images of Jewish storefronts, residences, schools, and other meeting places were projected onto the contemporary architectural sites in Berlin where the older structures once existed. His intent was to reveal the origins of a community identity underneath the sedimentation and restructuring created by time and change, "as if the past is burning through the facades." No prior preparation of the site was made and no artificial light except that of the projector was used. Though he made no formal attempt to survey the reactions of the community after the project was complete, he became directly involved with a number of the residents while it was in progress.

In his interactions with the neighborhood residents he often encountered not only more accurate information about specific locations and events, but also fears and anxieties from past experiences, as well as present concerns.

The 1995 series, "Portrait of Exile," involved submerging large transparent images mounted on lightboxes one meter underwater in Copenhagen's Borsgraven canal. The images were backlit 24-hours-a-day and were on view for six weeks. They included portraits of pre-war Danish Jews rescued to Sweden as well as present-day refugees currently living in Denmark, as the project's intention was to represent these two human rights challenges, past and present. The portraits were layered with representations of passport stamps, fishing boats and other symbolic icons of passage. The perpetual variation of the flowing water and debris floating over the surface created a constant metamorphosis of the images and referenced the passage of time. Attie felt that the work reflected the immateriality and ghostliness of lost memory and its reclamation in the appearance of the images as if resurfacing to breathe.

Attie discussed other projects such as "The Neighbor Next Door," which involved moving film images projected on the street outdoors near the interior hiding places where Jews escaped capture. In the project, "Brick By Brick," the history of the Cologne Art Fair Building as an auction depot for Jewish and other’s belongings, deportation site, and slave labor camp was exposed through the projection of auction announcements and household furniture onto the brick exterior columns of the building. "Walk of Fame" retraced the steps of the filming of Schindler’s List, mimicking the commemorative stars on the ground in the Hollywood Walk of Fame, but substituting the names of holocaust survivors for the names of actors.

The presentation closed with a description of a project in progress in Manhattan’s Lower East Side, tentatively titled, "The Word At Hand," later changed to the the project actual title, "Between Dreams and History." This area was historically a port for new immigrants, which was later segregated into ethnic neighborhoods in the early twentieth century. Attie intends to use a computer-driven laser projector to "write" upon the buildings in real-time movement. A multilingual and cultural dialog consisting of the memories, superstitions, nursery rhymes and dreams of the neighborhood’s residents will appear letter by letter as if being hand-written across the buildings and through the streets. Shimon Attie’s work is meant to be primarily aesthetic first, and to induce questions later. He hopes to create situations for his audience to reflect upon long after the work is presented, when it has taken up residence in the collective imagination.

Analysis by David Reed

Shimon Attie showed work involving projecting past history into public spaces in the present. In 1992, he projected slides of pre-war Jewish life onto old East Berlin buildings; in Cologne, he projected images of furniture seized from Jewish homes that were sold at public auctions in Nazi Germany. In Denmark, he exhibited lightboxes depicting pre-war Jews and contemporary refugees from the former Yugoslavia. An exhibition in Amsterdam involved projecting Nazi occupation-era films onto buildings that served as hiding places for Jews. A recent work in Krakow, Poland addressed tourists' interest in sites that appeared in the film Schindler's List. To direct attention from the making of the film back to the subjects of the film, he created a "Walk of Fame" (after the famous sidewalk in Hollywood honoring Hollywood stars) with names of actual Schindler's list survivors. Currently, he is preparing a text-based installation in the Lower East Side of New York City, based on interviews with elderly residents of this immigrant neighborhood.

Attie's most confrontational work (in terms of implied criticism of members of the potential audience) was apparently the most difficult to get approved and funded: images of Nazi-confiscated furniture projected onto columns outside an art exhibition space. The viewer might have imagined these images, sans text, were intended as merely interesting to look at. But at the end of the row of columns, he was confronted with a text containing historical information about the site and the images: that during the war, the building was used as a deportation site, as well as to store such furniture; that the images were from Nazi-era auction notices. While images from Jewish life in Berlin referred to a world that has since disappeared, there is no indication how this might have come about. The Cologne installation made direct references to the dirty business of forcing people from their homes and the fact that many profited materially from this policy.

It might have been interesting to discuss the relative merits in ones artistic practice of a confrontational or accusatory approach versus a more subtle one that could easily be missed or glossed over.

Attie's Copenhagen piece, involving light boxes under water with images of Jews and ex-Yugoslavs, incurred criticism: while he said people should "make what they will" of the juxtaposition of World War II Jewish refugees who fled Denmark with present day refugees from the former Yugoslavia. It is hard to escape the conclusion that he means to make a connection. Certainly, there are similarities, but the fact that Danish Jews were Danes, whereas current Yugoslav refugees are culturally, ethnically, and linguistically distant from Danes may make this perhaps a somewhat unfair comparison.

A question was raised as to why Attie isn't using photos in his upcoming installation. He explained that it's important for him to continue to use fresh approaches, instead of continually reworking the same process. Perhaps it would have been interesting to discuss what other ways photos might be used in public art, and how Attie feels about words as a method of communication as opposed to photographs.

Shimon Attie responds:

First, the student's descriptions of my projects were not clear or specific enough to give a sense of the concept behind each project. A more flushed out series of brief descriptions of the various projects would be as follows...

Shimon Attie showed work involving projecting past history into public spaces in the present. In 1992, he gathered photographs of pre-war Jewish street life in the Jewish quarter of East Berlin and slide projected portions of them onto the same nearby addresses today, 60 years later; in Cologne, he projected images of furniture seized from Jewish and other homes that were later sold at public auctions at one such auction depot (which today happens to be the site of a different kind of auction--the ArtCologne art fair); in Denmark, he installed lightboxes underwater depicting pre-war Jews rescued to Sweden and contemporary refugees currently living in Denmark; in Amsterdam, he films projected from former hiding places onto the streets below actual film footage shot clandestinely by those in hiding during Nazi occupation; in Krakow, he installed simulated terrazzo stars at sites used for the filming of Schindler's List , in order to critically reflect how real history has been displaced by history-as-made-in-the-movies. The stars were based on the originals on Hollywood's "Walk of Fame", but the names of movie stars were substituted with names of actual survivors on the real Schindler's List.

Beyond describing my projects, I would like to respond to the analysis presented. First, in the student's second paragraph, I disagree with his characterization of my project in Cologne as being my most "confrontational work." My project in Cologne in fact, for better or worse, was one of my more subtle projects in its use of rather open-ended imagery of furniture and household objects, which were subject to multiple-levels of interpretation and meaning. In fact, my least subtle and most confrontational project was realized in Dresden's central train station. (For further discussion and comparative analysis of my various projects, and of the Cologne vs. Dresden projects in particular, please refer to James Young's analysis in his essay "Sites Unseen: Shimon Attie's Acts of Remembrance" which can be found in the book Sites Unseen: Shimon Attie's European Projects from Verve Editions, 1998.)

I agree with the student's remarks in his third paragraph. Indeed, a fuller conversation about subtle vs. more "confrontational" approaches would be informative and extremely relevant to both my work and public art practices more generally.

The student's comments in the fourth paragraph miss the larger complexity of the project and the context in which it was realized. The decision to create an underwater installation in which images of Jews rescued to Sweden in World War II would be presented next to images of present-day refugees currently living in Denmark, came only after many months of careful and close consultation with both Danish Human Rights and Refugee Groups, as well as with Denmark's Jewish Community.

The only literal "connections" between the two stories are as follows: each represents a human rights challenge in Denmark, one historical, and one contemporary; both rescues were and are intertwined with water (hence an underwater installation); and lastly, both stories are connected to the site and place where the light boxes were installed, Copenhagen's Borsgraven Canal, which was a site used for secret transit of Denmark's Jews during the war, as well as today being situated next to Denmark's foreign ministry building and in front of Denmark's Parliament building, both seats of political power with strong influence on Denmark's refugee policies today.

Beyond that, and perhaps more to the point, the intention in telling the two stories together was to challenge Denmark's self-idealization of its now mythologized behavior during the rescue of World War II in the face of its less than exemplary refugee politics today. This was the point! It was not to say that the two stories are comparable, or that Jews and Yugoslavians are like one another as the student suggests. In fact, to the contrary, it was to say that the two stories are distinctly different from one another. One story represents mythologized heroism and self-congratulation within Denmark, while the other reflects today's less than heroic helping hand offered to refugees in need. (In fact, one might ask whether the differences in the two Danish responses might in some way be related to the differences between the two groups of refugees involved.)

The response on the ground to the project was it stimulated a larger discussion in Copenhagen on today's refugee politics. It did not generate a discussion on whether the project was comparing Jews to Yugoslavians, as the student suggests. Denmark's Jewish community and chief Rabbi, Brent Melchior, were strongly involved and supportive of the project, as were various refugee groups in Copenhagen, and neither group felt that they were literally being compared to (or confused with) one another. In fact, Rabbi Melchior himself is very involved with helping refugees in Denmark today, precisely because of his own rescue during the Second World War.

Lastly, I agree with the student in his last paragraph that a discussion on other new ways in which photographs themselves might be used in public art could have been quite interesting, if time had allowed.