
Moyo
Okediji
Camp Leader
terra cotta relief

Michelle
Torrez
Enchanted Eyes
oil on canvas

Jonathan
Moller
Soldiers shot her down as she fled into
the mountains. A bullet had shattered her skull, so her husband
wrapped a cloth around her head before burying her in this shallow
grave on the mountainside. Nebaj, Quiche, Guatemala, 2000.
color photograph

Lee
Lee
Ta Prohm
oil on canvas

Thomas Carr
Washington River
digital collage

atom
blast tunnel
photograph
Sound
samples: Preparing
for Departure - Cambodia
- Africa
|
May
we have a moment of silence for all those who have been silenced?
...
Resilience
is the strong common thread I have witnessed in the over 40 countries
I’ve spent time in around the world.
I tend to
visit developing countries where people have struggles that we in
this country can't fathom, genocide among the hardest to consider.
Unless we have been through it directly, we can not understand it.
But that does not mean that we can’t have compassion.
When the
opportunity arose to speak about genocide through the Mizel Museum,
I asked myself how such a severe topic can be presented
in a way that encourages consideration which would lead to this
compassion. I’ve been studying how war is conveyed through
media and creative works for 15 years. It’s aggressive, shocking,
ugly and all too easy to turn away from. Who wants to look at a
pile of dead bodies? Genocide is of course all these things, but
in a culture inundated with sensationalized media & information,
I thought it best to present it on a human scale, building personal
connections to those directly affected.
My
purpose is to engage.
Many of
these works address aspects of genocide that are often overlooked.
They are the quieter aspects that deal with the long term effects
of genocide. The strengths that are necessary to survive the initial
violence, mourn losses while displaced, and even come to points
of reconciliation are all to be applauded – our community
could learn a great deal from the stories portrayed through the
art displayed here.
Moyo
Okediji has created ceramic reliefs that convey displacement
through fragmented figures made literally from earth. He shared
an interesting fact that the only art form surviving the genocide
in Darfur now is ceramic based, so the material is unexpectedly
appropriate. When in Africa I found such a strong energy that emanates
from the land itself, and manifests through the spirited people
there. Despite the displacement experienced across the continent
at one time or another, Moyo’s solid figures embody the strength
and energy I had witnessed there.
Though I
feel all the work is beautiful, not all of it is pleasant. In my
mind, one of the most striking works is Michelle Torrez’s
Enchanted Eyes. This is a portrait of a young Sudanese
boy who had both his hands hacked off with a machete. Michelle does
not dwell on the gore aspect of hacked hands; instead she paints
just his face. She has captured the frustration and hurt so vividly
through his gaze. She said to me once, “the eyes tell the
whole story”, indeed these do. That look –
that energy – it’s unspeakable, yet manifested
so powerfully through her brush.
Haunting
too is Jonathan Moller’s photographs from
Guatemala. I am especially moved by his large exhumation piece,
with skeletal teeth gleaming. Still, the brightly colored Mayan
textiles sing out as a manifestation of the creative human spirit
even as they melt organically into the surrounding grave.
This work
speaks of the passage of Time, which was a huge
consideration both in building this show and in my own paintings.
When I visited the landmine clearance work being done near the former
DMZ in Vietnam by Clear
Path International, I met a farmer who had just lost
both his hands to an explosion of a tiny bomb he mistook for a dirt
clod in his field. The depth of sorrow in his wife’s eyes
was enough to drown in.
It’s
amazing how long the effects of genocide continue. Cambodia experienced
one of the greatest acts of genocide in the 20th century, and today
remains saturated with unexploded ordinance. In my mind, anyone
who lays down bombs needs to consider the implications for their
grand children’s children – for they will continue to
feel the repercussions for that long.
While I
was disturbed by the physical evidence of destruction in Southeast
Asia, I was also amazed at the resilience of people there who steadily
work to rebuild their lives. In my Ta Prohm paintings,
I highlighted the tree roots that cascade down the temple faces
to reflect growth despite a history stained with blood.
I thought
it vital to include not only contemporary effects genocides, but
how we as Coloradoans are directly tied. Ghosts from our past arise
through Thomas Carr’s digital collages based
on Native American battlegrounds in this area.
More current
are the haunting sound installations by Sasha Gorelik
and Evan Brown which are based on recordings from
the bowels of an intercontinental ballistic missile silo buried
in our own land. They layered these sounds with various samples
taken from around the world. African drums, ancient Cambodian flutes
interspersed with institutionalized accounts of various genocides
make the work relevant in all areas. A phenomenal work that heightens
the effects of the three themes explored here; severity, mourning/loss
and strength/resilience.
More positive
are Izabela Lundberg’s photographic portraits
of survivors who dwell here in our own community. She has very sensitively
touched on their pasts while emphasizing the strengths that were
necessary to get to where they are today. These people add such
richness to the fabric of our community, and I’m inspired
when I see them embraced. A truly inspirational woman, I would like
to invite her now to speak of her work and our community.
Presented
January 11, 2007 at the Mizel Museum
e-mail
Lee Lee
presentation
by Izabela Lundberg
overview
of genocide exhibit at the Mizel Museum
presentation
given at the International Conference of Genocide Scholars, Bosnia |