Asma Sadia – ARTS IN NYC

Public Art in Kensington: “React, Respect, Intersect”

“React, Respect, Intersect”, located near the intersection of East 5^th Street and Church Avenue, is a piece of public art I pass by all the time in my neighborhood of 18 years — Kensington. A bare wall only until recently (in 2011 the painting was complete through the support of the NYC Department of Transportation), it was no shock that I immediately prized it as an exciting new addition to my long-time neighborhood. The bright colors, large size and eye-catching geometry were the first things that attracted my attention but a deeper delve into why it was created helped me appreciate it so much more. Now, during weekend grocery shopping and long walks from school, I feel grateful to be able to admire and reflect on such a relevant work of art in the comfort of my own neighborhood.

With a colorful array of intersecting paths (i.e. F train line tracks, highway with white buses/red cars and a green road full of crossing children, elderly, skateboarders, bicyclists and even pets all depicted as figures in orange), two thirds of the mural depict the “hustle and bustle” so common in New York City. On the other end of the mural is a young girl. Regardless of which approach the viewer chooses, whether it be directly facing, walking past the side or even driving past the art, the image of the girl stands out. She is seen putting her hand out, palm toward the viewer, as if to say “stop”, while also holding a large, red octagonal sign with “RESPECT” written in white.

Although meant to last forever, the mural may not remain perfectly visible for long (with a large tree covering parts of it and some graffiti writing on the bottom right). The message gained from the art, however, is certainly meant to last — no matter the circumstances.

This is an acrylic based, permanent, city- commissioned work of art initiated by the Groundswell Community Mural Project, a group “bringing together artists, youth, and community organizations to use art as a tool for social change” (https://www.groundswell.nyc/). Looking into this, I truly experienced the art in a different way. It was no longer a random mix of bright colors with a girl signaling “stop”. To me, it became a commentary on the importance of respecting community diversity and community safety as well as a warning about the dangers of traffic— an issue sadly becoming increasingly common in Kensington.

Starting with a fatal bicycle crash involving a close family friend in front of my elementary school then numerous car accidents at the intersections, traffic safety is an essential lesson my neighbors and I are no strangers to. It is no wonder that this mural is fittingly placed at the intersection of two roads, near a busy highway. The girl with the stop sign is given more meaning through this context of traffic safety, acting as a clear warning to drivers and pedestrians passing by. Additionally, Kensington is full of diverse people with different viewpoints, languages, and religions. It is no wonder that this mural fittingly holds up a large “RESPECT” sign.

All in all, although different from the illegal graffiti people usually associate with street art, the underlying message and befitting location of this mural are two things universal in public art. For example, Banksy had chosen to create art on the Israeli West Bank barrier wall, a highly relevant and pressing topic of discussion, to convey his views on the conflict. Had Banksy chosen another random wall, the message and power of his art would not have been nearly as clear. Similarly, this mural in Kensington takes the setting, diversity and issues of the neighborhood into consideration and conveys a message based on it.

The Lasting Message from “Last Men in Aleppo”

The Syrian Civil War started in 2011 and is ongoing to this day. Initially, the war was overlooked. Blatant human rights violations, however, cannot be overlooked. Photographers, journalists and filmmakers are documenting these atrocities through direct visits to Syria. Last Men in Aleppo, a documentary directed by Feras Fayyad in 2017 is one of these efforts.

Most documentaries are thought of as “merely educational” and solely academic. Unexpectedly, this film is more than that. It proves to us that we shouldn’t only learn but we should also engage and act. Utilizing both formal techniques and thematic content to make the film highly personal, Fayyad connects us with the civilians and heroes in Syria. By the end of the film, dumbfounded and heartbroken, viewers can’t help but think about what the film leaves inside them.

Throughout the film, Fayyad follows the daily lives of two white helmets during the siege of Aleppo. White Helmets, also known as the Syrian Civil Defense, are volunteer first-responders in Syria. Mostly working-class civilians before the war, these are people who have risen up for their fellow neighbors. Particularly, Fayyad follows Khaled, a loving father of two daughters and Mahmoud, a worrisome young man.

For the highlights in the beginning and the end of the documentary, the camera follows Khaled and Mahmoud through aftermaths of various bombings. One scene after a bombing shows a member of the White Helmets sorting through rubble to dig out a crying young boy underneath. As he carefully pulls him out, the camera focuses in on the child’s head: gashed and bleeding heavily. This is just one of many painful scenes.

With the camera switching from warm moments between Khaled and his young daughter (Isra) to horrific rescues, it’s hard to find a peace of mind during the film. A repeating switch between friendly/familial humor and disturbing bombings dominates the film. Although with repetition, the film comes off as “cyclic”, this repetition is exactly what digs into our minds. With each painful and disgraceful scene, we open our eyes to the reality in Syria. Laughing at the innocent dialogue between Isra and Khaled then immediately frowning from the chaos after a bombing, there is no break. With every single scene ending with sadness, feelings of restlessness take over as we just sit and watch.

Two specific methods are utilized to engage viewers in such a personal way: formal techniques and thematic content. First off, cinematography plays a vital role in providing viewers with an up-close look. With the camera directly face to face with the white helmets and victims almost all the time, it feels as if we are standing right in the middle of it all. It becomes hard to ignore the blood, tears and debris from bombings.

In addition, one feature of the cinematography that I found especially impactful was the shaking of the camera as the bombs hit. While watching, the screen feels an “earthquake”, as if the bomb hit the building right beside us.

Lastly, the sounds are also important to the message. Specifically, the authentic diegetic sounds of loud missiles falling onto crumbling buildings, screeching sirens rushing to save lives as well as children crying and screaming all come at once into our ears. Once again, the reality of the destruction is forced into attention, as Fayyad proves that was is happening is not only real but also horrific.

In these ways, the formal techniques enhance the film, forwarding the thematic content and making it more than just another dull documentary.

With regards to thematic content, the central issue that resonates with me is how important it is that we help prevent these mass atrocities from occurring. Scene after scene, we sit, eyes glued to the screen and minds racing to make sense of it all. As we watch Isra, for example, her giggles provide comfort while also increasing a sense of worry. What if something happens to her?

Iconic images of brutality in the Syrian civil war have come and gone. From Omran to Aylan Kurdi, stories have gone viral one day and immediately forgotten the next. That is what makes this film so urgent. Fayyad insists that we take a deeper, more personal look. For any bit of humanity left inside us, this film is a must-see. We should watch this film not to learn facts or spend time but to think deeply about what we can do to help stop human rights violations in Syria.

As a peace deal for the Idlib district in Syria is made this week, I can’t help but think if the fate of Idlib will be the same as Aleppo. Perhaps what Last Men in Aleppo has left in me is the message that peace is not given; it must be actively advocated for.