Thursday, December 9, 2004

An Architect and a Photographer


Daniel Liebskind and Eugene Richard would not have shared much in common if there were no 9/11. One is an architect who has been a theorist for all his life but suddenly found himself in spotlight and great demands after winning the master plan on World Trade Center; and the other one has long established himself as one of the most respected photojournalists who worked most of his life among the poor, the sick and the neglected. But they both came up with something to remember an event that fundamentally changed the America yet quickly faded into people’s memory. The two recent lectures I attended once again brought those days back to focus: Liebskind inevitably had to talk about his design for WTC and his fight with David Childs, while Eugene Richards spared his own words and showed his eulogy that combined projection of slides and live recording of interviews and funerals. Liebskind’s speech was fast-paced, upbeat and optimistic; Eugene Richards remained somber and mellow through his talk. The two artists could not be more different, but they both relied on sentimentality to move their audiences, reflecting two different ways to confront with losses and tragedies.

It is no accident that both artists ended up making these works. Liebskind first became well-known due to Berlin Jewish museum, and Richards’s most famous early works documented his wife dying of breast cancer. Life seemed to have dealt something very tragic to them from early on and they were destined to spend their whole life to deal with it with art, not just in different mediums but also in styles and motifs.


Making something or anything artistic out of September 11th is a tricky thing in this politically confusing environment. Just as Liebskind’s soaring freedom tower has won both hearts and detractors, Eugene Richards’s new works also gave him a sensationalist reputation (other than some early criticism on his exploiting the un-privileged). Liebskind insisted that the terrorists aimed to attack our freedom and wanted to use his design to manifest the American spirit of freedom (which can also be interpreted as a symbol of imperialism, depending on who you talk to), while Richards avoided the whole politics and focused on grieving, providing no clue why this happened and where we should go from here. Their works are perfect examples in which art can’t please everyone and can not escape politics entirely. It can inspire one group and help them heal, but it can appear trite, cliché or even vulgar for another group.