Editorial: Media Art AS/IN Therapy - News - special issue post September 11, 2001 - Editorial

Afterimage, Nov-Dec, 2001 by Karen vanMeenen

My friend James sent me a note from Sante Fe in the wake of the terrorist attacks. It was a reflection on his profession as a fine woodworker and his desire to continue his artwork in the midst of tragedy, but in acknowledgement of his feelings of guilt at making playful pieces at this grave time. A collector of unusual objects with interesting histories, he ended his message by describing a handmade cigarette case his wife's father brought home from his tour of duty in Europe:

Wendy and I have a handmade aluminum cigarette case (made with strips from aluminum cans pounded together). One outside face is carved with a floral design the background of which is meticulously textured, the other a carved bathing beauty at the beach. When you depress the spring-loaded latch it opens smoothly on a hinge (also spring loaded). There's a swordshaped keeper for one side of smokes. The inside panels are also carved. One is a group of concentration camp buildings encircled with barbed wire. The barbs rendered with very tiny nicks. The other panel is a vibrant swirling design with "Ricordo" emblazoned diagonally. Other text reads: 37 Campo Frigionieri Winchcombe, 29 Febbraio 1944. It was made by an Italian prisoner in World War II

In the midst of the most dire circumstances-the concentration camps of World War II, the aftermath of the September 11 attacks-the haven of art endures. Art can tell personal truths as well as allow viewers access to universal truths, universal experience. Said Alexander Solzenitzhen, "Falsehood can hold out against much in this world, but not against art." A French citizen, interviewed while visiting the Metropolitan Museum a few days after the attacks, was quoted as saying, "If you cut culture out of life, then it's just about survival."

As we now know, the death toll of 6000 includes one artist-in-residence who was killed while working in a studio supplied by the Lower Manhattan Cultural Council, whose offices were completely destroyed. Dozens of New York City art organizations were affected by the devastation of the World Trade Center and the surrounding area. Public art by Alexander Calder, Franz Koenig, Joan Miro and Louise Nevelson, among others, have disappeared under one million tons of rubble. What is less immediately evident, but will undoubtedly become more obvious over the next several months, is that countless other art organizations around the country will be disrupted by altered corporate and individual giving patterns. And those in New York State will face further challenges as state monies are funneled into the recovery and rebuilding efforts in Manhattan.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is not clinically diagnosable until one month after the instigating event. At this writing, therefore, the full emotional effects of this event are yet to be felt, and U.S. retaliatory actions have just begun. Indeed, Americans may need the solace of art, along with their other diverse cultural, spiritual and religious practices, now more than ever. May this special issue of Afterimage, and the work of its generous contributors and those like them, be a testament to that striving for a meaningful existence that transcends mere survival and includes the making and enjoyment of artwork as a necessary element of our humanity and, now, our collective healing.