To Look or Not to Look:
Art, 9/11 and the U.S. Election
In discussion with internationally acclaimed American painter and sculptor, Eric Fischl, he shared that the worst thing for an artist is to be misunderstood. Art has forever been a risky endeavour because the artist can never control how the audience reacts to their work. Fischl understands this profoundly. He is the artist behind the sculpture, Tumbling Woman, informed by the events of 9/11. Tumbling Woman generated a public outcry in October 2002 after a bronze version of her was placed in Rockefeller Plaza in Manhattan. The outcry was so acute that she was covered up and removed almost immediately. As the world sits and watches together on this U.S. Presidential Election Day, as concerns about the promulgation of fake news and possible fake election outcomes swirl around us, Fischl’s Tumbling Woman reminds us of a time not that long ago when America refused to gaze and chose to censor — and that the risk of being misunderstood is not limited to artists.
Following 9/11, it was not just the Tumbling Woman sculpture that was removed from view but so were any photographs and video recordings of the people falling out of the Twin Towers. Tom Junod writing in September 2003 for Esquire in a piece titled The Falling Man points out: “In the most photographed and videotaped day in the history of the world, the images of people jumping were the only images that became, by consensus, taboo — the only images from which Americans were proud to avert their eyes.” Junod goes on to note that this desire to prevent shock from the images and to honour the dead by keeping their final moments out of view stands in stark contrast to the photographs that came out of the death camps of Europe, which were treated as: “essential acts of witness, without particular regard to the sensitivities of those who appeared in them or the surviving families of the dead.” The list of examples of course can and does goes on from presidential assassinations to images of the horrors of war, including the lifeless washed up body of Alan Kurdi. We should not want to look at any of these images but maybe we must for good purpose?
Both Fischl and Ben Rhodes, former deputy national security adviser to Barack Obama, draw a straight line between the fear and anger arising out of the 9/11 attacks and the election of President Donald Trump. As the COVID-19 death toll earlier this year was climbing to surpass the death toll borne as result of the terrorist attacks of September 11th, Ben Rhodes writing in The Atlantic in an insightful essay titled The 9/11 Era Is Over called for the end of the period in American history that started on September 12th, demanding a “transformation of what has been our whole way of looking at the world since 9/11.” While that is a tall enough order already, I think it may be the case that Americans also need to transform how they look at themselves.
In our discussion, reflecting on the reception of Tumbling Woman, Fischl decries that “art just wasn’t at the centre any more” and that, in the aftermath of 9/11, nobody called upon poets, playwrights, musicians and other artists to help with mourning and to figure the moment out. Former U.S. cultural envoy to Canada, Vicki Heyman, in reference to our podcast discussion, that included her partner, former U.S. Ambassador to Canada, Bruce Heyman, noted that “there is a power of art in healing our nation.” Art is a reflection as well as the product of an artist’s intention. It can help a beholder grieve, it can reveal things about herself and it can serve as a reminder — but only if we grant the artist permission by including them in the conversation and only if we exhibit their work.
What we choose to look at and for how long we focus our gaze in this attention economy are important and consequential decisions. If we don’t look carefully, we may miss that Tumbling Woman is not falling at all but rather rolling, blown by the forces unleashed on that horrific day, and that her outstretched hand is a plea for help and togetherness. We might loose the chance to effectively grieve the deaths Tumbling Woman seeks to honour. We might also miss the opportunity to understand and heal from traumatic events when we don’t draw upon the talent and insight of our artists. And the risks that arise from that are incalculable.
Many Canadians — possibly all of them — will be watching the U.S. Presidential election tonight. Canadians are aware of the risks on the ballot. Though as of late sometimes painted as a villain, we love our neighbour. Many of us also believe America’s risks do not arise as a result of external threats but come from within the United States. I think most are aware that none of the risks America faces will entirely disappear based on the winner. Above all else, I personally hope and pray for an election outcome that can be discerned relying on respected American democratic institutions free of violence. And regardless of the winner, Tumbling Woman’s outstretched hand will still need holding and I, like many Canadians, will always be here to grasp it.
