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| Art after Crisis: The Tribute in Light Lecture by Julian LaVerdiere September 15, 2006 Milwaukee, WI |
| Photo by Clifton A. Bazar, March 11, 2002 |
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Artist Julian LaVerdiere had been busy
working on a project involving single cell light
generating organisms when his studio/lab in
the World Trade Center was blown up by
crashing airplanes on September 11, 2001.
It is utterly ironic that LaVerdiere would end
up creating the “Tribute in Light” that has
become the conceptual memorial for the
9/11 tragedy – that he moved from the
microscopic world of plankton to the
megalithic columns of light that shine
thousands of feet from Ground Zero into the
sky, making ghostly reference to the towers.
LaVerdiere spoke last week to a full-capacity
crowd of at least 500 in a borrowed industrial
space in the 5th Ward. Sponsored by the
Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design,
LaVerdiere’s presence was a lingering perk
from former MIAD president Robert Rindler
working on a project involving single cell light
generating organisms when his studio/lab in
the World Trade Center was blown up by
crashing airplanes on September 11, 2001.
It is utterly ironic that LaVerdiere would end
up creating the “Tribute in Light” that has
become the conceptual memorial for the
9/11 tragedy – that he moved from the
microscopic world of plankton to the
megalithic columns of light that shine
thousands of feet from Ground Zero into the
sky, making ghostly reference to the towers.
LaVerdiere spoke last week to a full-capacity
crowd of at least 500 in a borrowed industrial
space in the 5th Ward. Sponsored by the
Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design,
LaVerdiere’s presence was a lingering perk
from former MIAD president Robert Rindler
who held his position at the school for only one year. Rindler had been dean of students at Cooper
Union in New York City where LaVerdiere received an undergraduate degree in sculpture.
LaVerdiere’s talk, while rising out of the ashes of human suffering, was inspirational. Besides telling the
story of how the Tribute in Light came about and how he and partner Paul Myoda created it, the artist
modeled a process of creative exploration that mines history, questions the absorption and re-
adaptation of cultural symbols and uses art to understand and process our political, spiritual and
human place in the global world. This sounds like a handful. But LaVerdiere explained how he works in
very clear and specific terms and left us with a renewed faith in the power of art to illuminate what may
not be seen through any other vehicle.
Most of the artist’s work seems to deal with history and the destructive forces of time – how things get
eradicated or redefined or, perhaps more specifically, how the meaning of objects or symbols can
change and become almost entirely fragmented from any historical continuity. When Penn Station in
New York was being torn down to create a more modern train station, LaVerdiere found the destruction
of the neo-classical building emblematic of the fall of the Western empire. He rescued a five-foot stone
eagle from the refuse of the building and cast it in plaster. At a gallery installation he secured the eagle
on a device that would circle it around the room like a carnival ride. Succinctly, LaVerdiere’s piece spoke
of how easily an empire can topple and abandon the very symbols that defined it historically. The piece
also seems to imply that these kind of symbols no longer function without the cumbersome apparatus
of technology and commerce.
Union in New York City where LaVerdiere received an undergraduate degree in sculpture.
LaVerdiere’s talk, while rising out of the ashes of human suffering, was inspirational. Besides telling the
story of how the Tribute in Light came about and how he and partner Paul Myoda created it, the artist
modeled a process of creative exploration that mines history, questions the absorption and re-
adaptation of cultural symbols and uses art to understand and process our political, spiritual and
human place in the global world. This sounds like a handful. But LaVerdiere explained how he works in
very clear and specific terms and left us with a renewed faith in the power of art to illuminate what may
not be seen through any other vehicle.
Most of the artist’s work seems to deal with history and the destructive forces of time – how things get
eradicated or redefined or, perhaps more specifically, how the meaning of objects or symbols can
change and become almost entirely fragmented from any historical continuity. When Penn Station in
New York was being torn down to create a more modern train station, LaVerdiere found the destruction
of the neo-classical building emblematic of the fall of the Western empire. He rescued a five-foot stone
eagle from the refuse of the building and cast it in plaster. At a gallery installation he secured the eagle
on a device that would circle it around the room like a carnival ride. Succinctly, LaVerdiere’s piece spoke
of how easily an empire can topple and abandon the very symbols that defined it historically. The piece
also seems to imply that these kind of symbols no longer function without the cumbersome apparatus
of technology and commerce.
| From the base of the Tribute in Light |
The idea for the Tribute in Light came about the
day after 9/11 when LaVerdiere and Paul Myoda
were gazing at the rising plumes of smoke that
still marked the site. Similarly, at night, bright
lights would illuminate the site for work crews
and all over the city candlelight vigils glowed.
Light seemed like the obvious metaphor. After
complicated civic and technological maneuvers
the two columns of light blazed into the heavens
like “ghost limbs.” Immediately, the mass media
disseminated the image as THE post 9/11
universal, poetic response, accomplishing what
words could not do: Suggest the devastation and
lives lost and through the incorporeal images,
the emotional weight of tragedy.
LaVerdiere seemed bemused by how effectively
the light columns turned into
memorial/monument, yet he also spoke of how
quickly they entered the marketplace as souvenir
and sign, stating that he has made no money
from the project, but some anonymous t-shirt
vendor in California has probably cleaned up.
Basically, what all of LaVerdiere’s work seems to
speak of is the desire to not let history bury
meaning. And it might take the agile mind of an
artist (not politicians or historians) to stitch back
together the crazy quilt of how symbols travel in
time. The laurel wreath, LaVerdiere tells us, is a
symbol that can leap from the Greeks to the
Nazis to the American government with nary a
pause for reflection. What does this say about
any of our symbols? Are they as weightless and
adaptable as the columns of light? Yes. And
what does this imply?
- Debra Brehmer
Debra Brehmer is co-publisher of Susceptible to
Images.
Comments? email
dbrehmer@susceptibletoimages.com
day after 9/11 when LaVerdiere and Paul Myoda
were gazing at the rising plumes of smoke that
still marked the site. Similarly, at night, bright
lights would illuminate the site for work crews
and all over the city candlelight vigils glowed.
Light seemed like the obvious metaphor. After
complicated civic and technological maneuvers
the two columns of light blazed into the heavens
like “ghost limbs.” Immediately, the mass media
disseminated the image as THE post 9/11
universal, poetic response, accomplishing what
words could not do: Suggest the devastation and
lives lost and through the incorporeal images,
the emotional weight of tragedy.
LaVerdiere seemed bemused by how effectively
the light columns turned into
memorial/monument, yet he also spoke of how
quickly they entered the marketplace as souvenir
and sign, stating that he has made no money
from the project, but some anonymous t-shirt
vendor in California has probably cleaned up.
Basically, what all of LaVerdiere’s work seems to
speak of is the desire to not let history bury
meaning. And it might take the agile mind of an
artist (not politicians or historians) to stitch back
together the crazy quilt of how symbols travel in
time. The laurel wreath, LaVerdiere tells us, is a
symbol that can leap from the Greeks to the
Nazis to the American government with nary a
pause for reflection. What does this say about
any of our symbols? Are they as weightless and
adaptable as the columns of light? Yes. And
what does this imply?
- Debra Brehmer
Debra Brehmer is co-publisher of Susceptible to
Images.
Comments? email
dbrehmer@susceptibletoimages.com