Thursday, January 19, 2006

Modern-day Memorials

Missing the Grandeur


Berlin Holocaust Memorial

Memorials have a lot of emotions attached to them. In conventional war memorials, one feels the patriotism and symbolic triumph of the soldiers. Usually, the memorial is a sculpted representation of a soldier (or soldiers). Even memorials of individuals emanate a feeling of respect and admiration, usually once again represented in a realistic sculpture. These feelings are overwhelmingly positive.

Yet, I came across the Berlin Holocaust Memorial through internet links and digressions while reading an interview with American architect Peter Eisenman, who designed the memorial.

Eisenman’s memorial to the Jewish genocide in Germany constitutes of some 2,700 slabs of concrete steles in a huge area of land. It looks like a graveyard. The architect’s words describe it thus: “The place of no meaning”.

This memorial took more than ten years to build, wrought with controversies from the start.

But the question is: “Can memorials be built on negative emotions?"

The Holocaust Memorial in Berlin is built on such negativities, so much so that the architect felt it necessary to build it resembling a nameless cemetery.

Another memorial of such profound significance is the Vietnam Memorial in Washington D.C. Protestors were so resistant to the converging shiny granite stones, again reminiscent of gravestones, that the designers had to include a sculpture of three soldiers alongside it. These soldiers apparently conveyed a better sense of patriotism and heroism that are often part of war memorials.

It might just be the problem with the modern world, where memorials no longer reflect deep, positive feelings. Instead, these very great modern ones seem to have been built to expiate our sins, or at the very least to find a quick ground to commemorate those we should be commemorating.

The grandeur and dignity no longer exists, and all we’re left with is empty feelings.


Tuesday, January 17, 2006

The Synthesis of Beauty

From Strength and Kindness

Excerpt from The Death of Jacob by Rabbi Ari Kahn, via BadEagle.



Abraham, Isaac and Jacob were not merely three highly accomplished spiritual individuals. They formed a dynasty, in Hebrew shalshelet, which is derived from shalosh, meaning "three." According to Kabbalistic thought, each of the three patriarchs created a different spiritual awareness in the world, each becoming one of the three pillars necessary to support the establishment of the nation. Abraham is identified with chesed or "kindness." Isaac is identified with the opposites of kindness, namely gevurah or "strength" and din or "justice." And Jacob is identified with the merging of the above -- tiferet or "beauty." Thus, the patriarchs represent (to borrow the Hegalian model) thesis, antithesis, and synthesis. Once synthesis is achieved, the nation can emerge.



In this descriptive explanation of Jacob’s death, and his revelation to his sons of their roles in the future (as the twelve tribes of Israel), the author talks about the three patriarchs - Abraham, Isaac and Jacob - and how they connect with each other.

Abraham is identified with kindness, Isaac with the opposite strength, and Jacob with beauty.


In fact, Jacob is the synthesis of the two (thesis and antithesis).

That beauty is a synthesis of kindness and strength makes perfect sense.

Any work of art that is too strong will come off as harsh and unconnected

Any work that is too kind will appear weak and sentimental.

Beautiful works of art need to combine harshness and sentimentality to bring us closer to an authentic feeling, that is neither too cold nor too mawkish, in reaction to the work.

So, Jacob as beauty (work of art) must have been just the right combination of strength and kindness to produce the authentic tribes of Israel.