Please write about your experience of our rainy day trip to mid-Manhattan. Describe your reaction and thoughts about the photography exhibit focusing in on one photograph although you are welcome to write about more than one as well as the overall feel and flow of the exhibition. You are also welcome to comment on Eisenberg’s and ice cream sodas
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Tim Migliore
The experience of the photography exhibit was a humbling one. The ground floor had many pictures and I thought the ones that were contrasting the economic differences were especially good. A picture (Warren street, Nashville, Tennessee), should a broken house, literally falling apart but in the background was the glittering skyline of skyscrapers in what can only be assumed to be downtown Nashville. It reminded me of the current state of Philadelphia, where against the backdrop of the nice modernistic skyscrapers poverty is rampant with crack houses, and just third world looking apartment buildings dotting the landscape.
In the basement was the 9-11 exhibit, which I thought, was most spectacular. It really did pay tribute to this horrible event. Many photos were so though provoking and powerful. One that was really cool was the picture of the “missing” photograph: a missing poster with a picture of the two twin towers (like the posters for missing kids) and a caption saying “last seen on 9-11-2001”. That was such a powerful photo that I never even thought of from this angle (meaning this angle of photograph and making in this manner was totally new to me). My most favorite thing was not the photographs but the mini theater they had installed. Inside the dark room there were five televisions playing simultaneously five different shots of times on the timeline of 9-11. The “Dust”, “Day Workers” and “Life After” were all such effectively done. The most chilling one for me was the “Day Workers.” The machines that were digging, the five different angle shots of what effectively was the same principle and just the sounds of those machines at work was so eerie and gloomy. The room was silent and it was filled by the sounds of those excavating machines, the natural sounds of digging up was so ominous and terrifying (not scary: but one could feel the heart beating in themselves) at times. That was an experience that I have not experienced from any movie, tv show, reading or the class of the Arts of NYC.
And of course Eisenberg’s was spectacular. The fresh hamburger and the really great ice-cream soda’s were really good. THANK YOU PROFESSOR PERL!!!!!!
The exhibit had a variety of photographs ranging from black and white to color. I think that black and white photographs were more powerful than the color ones because they more effectively highlighted the tragedy of September 11th . Specifically, Eugene Richards’ photographs of the aftermath of September 11th addressed both the extensive physical and psychological damage caused by the attacks. My favorite Eugene Richard photograph was the one of the earth-mover’s claw reaching to lift up the rubble from ground zero. If you had no knowledge of the context of the photograph, you could probably still associate it with the 9/11 clean up because the images were unforgettable. Also, the human element was removed from the photograph. It was simply a picture of a machine reaching into a mountain of rubble, with no conceivable bottom. This photo also connected to the exhibit that displayed the clean up on the five flat screen televisions. The sheer magnitude of the effort was incredible. It must have been emotionally taxing to have to clean the rubble directly after the attack. It was the sight of nearly three thousand deaths! Ground Zero, at that time, was essentially a grave site; it can still be considered one now. In that sense, the photograph is very powerful, but also very sad. Also, the dust exhibit related to the photo in a major way. The dust from the towers contained both the content of the buildings and the ashes of those who lost their lives in the attack. Essentially, we could have been staring at the remains of people who died on that fateful day. That was chilling to think about. On a lighter note, the food at the restaurant was fairly good. I had a burger and fries. I asked for the burger to be well-done, but they gave me a rare one. I asked them to cook it for longer and they did. Besides that, the greasy food warmed me up on the rainy day.
Visiting the 9/11 exhibition was a really eye opening experience for me and I’m so glad I had the opportunity to see it. My favorite exhibit was the one entitled, “Here is New York. A Democracy of Changes.” I liked that all the pictures in the exhibit were taken by ordinary people instead of professional photographers. Even though most of them were simple, they were all touching because they helped me see and understand how people felt after 9/11. There was one photograph in particular that stood out to me. An NYPD officer, in full formal attire, salutes rigidly to an unseen person or object ahead. He stands, with tears pouring down his face, and the most heartbreaking expression I’ve ever seen on a grown man’s face. It gave me the chills. I felt his pain and fear and saw his vulnerability through that one simple shot. I felt as though it captured the feelings of everyone on that day- their shock, and horror and hurt.
Another interesting photograph in the exhibit was one taken of a handmade sign. The first part of it read, “All of you taking photos, I wonder if you really see what’s here or if you’re so concerned with getting that perfect shot that you’ve forgotten that this is a tragedy site, not a tourist attraction.” This image really made me think about what our motive is for photography and whether capturing images for future viewing causes us to miss experiencing something firsthand. Whether photographing the destruction after 9/11 makes people immune to the actual pain- not focusing on the massive amount of destruction that they are taking pictures of as what it truly is (a tragedy), and instead seeing only an opportunity to capture the moment so you can put it on your facebook or send to your friend so that everyone knows what you saw, or at least took pictures of. While I definitely don’t think that all photography is insensitive and wrong, I do think it needs to be done with thought and discretion instead of just a blind need to capture an image. If we didn’t have photography, we would lose so much once the moment passed, which is why it is so important and necessary.
Sadly I wasn’t able to make it to Xu Buing’s dust or the Eisenhower Sandwich Shop 🙁 I guess I’ll just have to live vicariously through what everyone else writes.
I had a class on Friday that I couldn’t miss, so I went to the ICP on my own this Sunday. As I walked around the exhibit, I didn’t find myself heart wrenched until I came across the photo showing the dust covered snow globe on sale. I thought of the touristy shops that I had passed earlier that day filled with confetti snow globes, representing a beautiful and serene Manhattan skyline, and here was a snow globe representing just the opposite. The folded paper boat found from the Port Authority site had the same effect on me- rather than feeling choked up by seeing the physical destruction with all of the debris and the smoke, I felt mournful at the site of the little things. The boat, the snow globe- they were my punctum; they made me feel.
I was particularly interested in the aftermath photos of the Sphere that was moved to Battery Park. It was beautiful to see that even in the state that it was in, it was displayed as public art. I couldn’t help but think about Damien Hirst’s controversial statement that 9/11 was something of “a work of art.” That was something to think about.
The photo of the sign made by “firegirl, nyc, 9/17/01” also struck me, and my mind automatically fleeted to the piece we discussed in class. Hirsch mentioned his discomfort in photographing the days after the event, and feeling a sense of disrespect in his actions. The girl denounces those who photographed the aftermath, questioning whether they “really see what’s here, or it [they’re] concerned about getting the perfect shot.” I thought it was an interesting point, and pondered over that photo for a while. I wondered whether “firegirl” had visited the ICP and seen that photo of her sign; whether she had been maybe pleased, or angry by the photo. Whether the woman also stalling next to me was in fact, her. Does “firegirl” remember writing it? Does she think about it, and does she resent the photos and the media when she turns on her tv, and sees all of this?
Afterwards, I bought myself “ice cold lemonade” for a dollar at the stand that was right outside the center and let myself gravitate towards and admire New York City’s greatest assets- their street fairs!
I enjoyed the trip to the ICP very much. I found the exhibits intriguing and the exhibits themselves also featured creative photographs with various perspectives. The 9/11 exhibit was emotive because the photographs of the lost articles or of a lost person generated a feeling of loss inside. The mural slideshow of lost articles from the remains of the WTC was creative in that the changing photographs amplified the absence of the building as well as of the owners of mundane objects. The collage of photographs hung simply on wires line in the next room displayed the effect of the tragedy on the lost lives. From businessmen to firefighters, each photograph of a missing person was focused on the individual and the urgency of the poster was definitely conveyed to me through the frozen slice of time. There was a photograph in particular that caught my attention. Two photographs were put side by side to show the before and after 9/11. The firefighter was showing his son how to slide down the firehouse pole in August 2001. Two months later, a memorial for that same firefighter was placed near the firehouse pole. The contrast of joy and pain in such a short period of time reminded me of how the firemen went into the scene when everyone else was running away. Ultimately, these photographs were apart of a memorial for the real heroes of the 9/11 tragedy.
Xu Bing’s Dust was haunting yet original because the sheer amount of dust on a floor lightly lighted in a almost empty building conveyed grief. The question makes you further question what happens when there is a sudden absence in your life that cannot be replaced.
On another note, I really appreciated our class lunch at the Sandwich Shop and I would like to give many thanks to Professor Perl for everything. 😀
Jonny Moallem
The class trip to the ICP on friday was one to remember. When I got to the building, I sat down and read one of the books that was attached to the table. I’m a type of visual learner, so the fact that this was a picture book was very appealing to me. The book had old school, black and white still frames showing New York City and New Orleans. It was interesting to me to see how much people have changed in just 100 years or so. Everything looked so much different back then.
After everyone else arrived, we went downstairs to the 9/11 exhibit. I found myself sitting in the screen room for about half an hour with a couple other kids watching the videos that Elena del Rivero shot from her apartment. Nothing crazy was happening in these videos, but it brought me to the realization that this actually happened in my lifetime. I pictured it as if 9/11 happened yesterday, and suddenly the mood all changed. I soon left the room with the TVs and looked at some of the pictures hanging on the wall. I noticed that whoever set up this exhibit was really focusing on the aftermath of the plane crashes and the cleaning up of the mess. The exhibit had almost nothing to do with the actually day of 9/11, but more-so with the effects. There were two pictures that stood out to me the most. First was the picture of the top view of the twin towers peeking over a sky filled with clouds. Besides from being a breathtaking photo, this picture was a symbol of the enormousness of the twin towers and how it is the opposite today. The next picture that stood out to me was in the section of missing people photos. It said: “Missing: 110 story office building, filled with thousands of innocent souls, center of great human achievement.” I thought this was a very clever photo that pretty much summed up the event of 9/11.
After the ICP, we saw Xu Bing’s dust artwork. Some of the kids in class were in love with this, but I honestly wasn’t too crazy about it. I think seeing the photos and videos of 9/11 brought more emotion out of me than this exhibit. It was crazy to think about that being the dust from the towers, but I guess it just wasn’t for me.
Finally, we went the deli and had a nice lunch together to change the depressing mood. The food was delicious and Professor Perl really held it down. Overall, it was a great day.
I thought that the IPC was alright. The Buddhist/ash exhibit, however, really gave me the “visceral” experience we discussed in class. Looking down from the make-shift platform onto the dreamy, quasi-spiritual display, I couldn’t help but feel dwarfed by it’s monumental evocations. Written in the ashes before me was the question, “…where does the dust itself collect?” On what plane of existence? In memory? Upon the physical earth? The whole thing gave me this sense of oneness. A sense of unity. By coming in direct contact with life’s temporality (the ashes on the floor), I felt a connection with every other living human being. The artist really recreated what it must have felt like at ground zero that day. Eisenbergs gave me that feeling too. I was so good.
Daisy Berisha
Since I couldn’t make it to the ICP on Friday, I ended up going to on Sunday, and it was quite the spectacle. Having never been to a photography exhibition, my time at the ICP was an entirely new experience. The 9/11 exhibit was compelling in a way that I could’ve never imagined. The black and white photos framed on the walls all seemed to reach out to me. I especially liked one photo of a hand reaching towards a snow globe encasing a miniature World Trade Center, covered in dust on the outside from the debris. It was very symbolic in that the glass about the toy towers was somehow protecting them from the dust, like our memories protect the tragedy of 9/11 from ever fading away. What I also found to be quite gripping was the showcase of photos that were submitted but didn’t make the cut; the photos that were in color instead of black and white. The room in which these photos were held seemed to light up with the color, whereas the rooms with the black and white photos seemed more sullen and dark.
As I browsed through the numerous photographs at the ICP, I felt especially connected to a picture in the “Here is New York. A Democracy of Changes,” collection. The photograph depicted a young girl leaving a bear plush toy next to a wall mounted with pictures of missing persons. With its black and white depiction, the mixture evoked nostalgia for the past that was destroyed by 9/11. Although the buildings are being constructed, they will never be the same again because the three thousand people who perished in the original towers. I especially felt sympathy for the family members of the victims because the tragedy struck people such as the child in the picture. The sorrow seems too early for a child so young.
Afterwards, I saw an awesome representation of the twin towers with the dust from that day. This was a great example of how Xu Bing’s art rose literally from the ashes of the burnt and collapsed tower. However, I could not quite understand the meaning of the cryptic quote written across the dust.
Finally, all of us went to Eisenberg’s, a relic of the past that lasts even today. I am very thankful to Professor Perl for the creamy ice-cream soda she bought for us from Eisenberg’s. It is the first time I have ever had one, and it was awesome.
One of the reasons that I love Macaulay is that I can access to various places in New York City with my cultural passport, and I absolutely enjoyed the trip to International Center of Photography. All the pictures displayed there were so wonderful and they were powerful enough to shake my emotion.
I especially loved the pictures in “Here is New York” section. There were a lot of interesting pictures about 9/11. And the picture of a policeman, who was saluting to commemorate the death of his colleague or friend, I guess, with a teardrop on his chick, was the most impressive photography above all. It was just his face that caught my attention. The photo was clear enough to catch even thin wrinkles on his face, which were made when he were trying to suppress his sorrow, and this very detailed visualization of the photography delivered me his emotion. It was good to stand gazing the photography for a minute and think of his situation and emotion.
Also, there was a photography that stopped me skimming pictures fast but fixed me at it to think for a while. It was a picture that showed the scenery of a commemoration ceremony, and in the picture, many police officers in black uniforms lined up in straight rows. And there was a little boy. He was not warring any formal dress and staring toward the camera while everybody was facing the opposite. His puzzled face told me that he did not know what was going on there. He seemed not to understand why people were so serious and sad. The photographer was talking about another aspect of the reality.
It was fun to look at the pictures, to travel with my friends, and to have a great food in the city. And I loved the chocolate ice cream soda!!!
On Sunday I went to the ICP. The 9/11 exhibit was very interesting. I noticed that the photos in black and white were of families. The captions they entailed included specific names of firefighters and police officers. The routine of photo, then caption, then next photo, next caption provided a beginning and an end to each frame. In contrast, the room titled “here is new york” was filled with much smaller photos lined up much closer and they were all in color. They were breathtaking. It felt as if there wasn’t enough time to take in one photo, fully process it before the next called for your attention. There was a picture of a sign handwritten by “fire-girl.” The writing was orange and it expressed the outrage she felt at people taking pictures. She asked the photographers if they thought they could “capture” the emotions and tragedy that took place on 9/11/2001. Fire-girl also criticizes photographers, telling them they use their cameras as a way to avoid having to look at what was going on, similar to what Hirsch mentions in her article.
When I first got downstairs to the 9/11 part of the museum I went into the room with the projections of the scrap metal and rubble being conserved at the Tower Air at JFK Airport. I was puzzled over why they were keeping so much of the scraps. When I got home I asked why they would want to keep so much. Parts of the infrastructure and relatable artifacts are important but why keep what cannot be used? My family’s explanation was, “they don’t know what to dump.” It makes sense. After having loss so many lives and artifacts how can the people who decide this stuff, decide what is worthy of keeping? How can one group of people be responsible for determining the destiny of thousands of peoples’ tragedy?
The most striking part of the trip was the film “Cedarliberty” by Elena del Rivero and Leslie McCleave at the ICP. The artists were able to capture the magnitude of the rubble left behind from 9/11. Rivero and McCleave captured how hard people worked into the night in order to make progress on this clean-up. The fact that Rivero shot this footage in 2002, months after the attack, shows how dedicated people are to recovery and continuing to live after disaster. This was also reflected in other parts of the exhibit which showed large pieces of metal from the towers and exhausted firefighters in “a democracy of photographs” is another expression of how much effort New Yorkers put into the daunting task of recovering from 9/11. My favorite part of Eisenberg’s sandwich shop was the malt shakes.
Before I begin, I have a quick question. This is a minor question, so you may skip ahead to the second paragraph if you wish to. Did anyone look up at the sky before it started pouring? (I have a habit of looking up at the sky whenever I’m outdoors because I have a huge fascination for the sky and the aesthetics of buildings. A little trivia of me.) It was only drizzling when I arrived at the ICP building on Friday about 10 minutes before 11am. I noticed I could not see the upper half of the buildings in the city because the clouds were very, very low. It did not strike me too much until I went downstairs for the 9/11 exhibition. A lot of the images, especially the ones of the Twin Towers, were in clouds or fog just like what I saw right before I entered the building. Foreshadowing???
There were hardly any photo that was not moving in the exhibit, but if I had to pick one, I would go for the one that was under “here is new york.” It was a close-up shot of the head of a bronze statue burying his face in his left hand. Although the face was hidden behind his huge hand, I could tell that this was not a thinking man but rather a grieving man. The focus of the picture was on a light pink rose that was gently placed on his arm covering his face. That was it. It was just a picture of a statue man’s hidden face and a flower. Nevertheless, as soon as I turned around the corner to enter the exhibition room and saw the photo, I got chills. Punctum. There were more graphic pictures of mourning people and crumbling buildings in the exhibition. This picture wasn’t even directly telling me anything about 9/11. Why was this picture even under 9/11 exhibition? Why did this picture stand out to me more than any other pictures in the room? Maybe it was the grief and the stillness from the statue and the life and the hope from the rose. Maybe I felt that that simple picture had it all, the essence of what 9/11 was to people.
After visiting ICP and then Xu Bing’s exhibition, we went to Eisenberg’s, the notorious sandwich shop that has been “raising New York’s cholesterol since 1929,” in other words, yum. Thanks to Professor Perl, (thank you), we got to try Eisenberg’s delicious ice-cream soda.
Well, I guess I could write more about what I did before I went to ICP and what I did after raising my cholesterol level at Eisenberg’s, both genuinely exciting, but I won’t. This is not my personal blog (I don’t have a blog, just to avoid confusions), and I do not want to bore Professor Perl or my fellow classmates, that is, if they ever read my blog entries. My point is, I had a great time on Friday. I really did. That is all I need to say. The end.
The ICP is incredible, I absolutely loved Peter Saeker’s photographs on the first floor. However, the pictures (there were a couple) that produced a visceral reaction in me were only in the 9/11 memorial exhibit. When we first entered the lower level I was just looking at really interesting photos that were visually appealing, and were obviously taken by expert hands. I even appreciated the double exposure technique used in several pictures. When I walked towards the back of the first floor however I noticed this one picture entitled “Lone Fireman in Rubble” and that’s exactly what it was; a fireman sitting down in the midst of so much steel, iron, and debris. The picture itself captured so much destruction was captured in the photograph,and ironically beauty. Maybe the man’s pose is what made the picture beautiful to me, but whatever it was made me drawn to it. Gregg Brown’s “Above Ground Zero” photographs made me stop walking and and stare. They just had so much contrast in them; for example there was a picture of a peaceful blue sky with rubble from the fallen towers all over the place. Uneasy is the only way I can think of to describe the way I felt looking at those pictures.
One of my favorites of the day was in the “here is new york” section, it was a photograph of a sign that expressed anger towards those taking pictures at ground zero. The sign basically reprimanded and scolded, and somebody decided to take a picture of it. The irony is a lot to think about. But this picture also reminded me of our readings from last Thursday because both essays addressed the topic of taking pictures of such a devastating site being disrespectful.
I personally didn’t like all of Xu Bing’s Dust exhibit. I did like the words on the floor with the dust surrounding them. I thought that was extremely creative and it did commemorate the lives lost in 9/11. However I strongly disliked the photographs of his daughter’s doll replica. I didn’t think it was appropriate for him to use ashes in that way. In my opinion it would have been better for him to have made the doll out of clay from somewhere else, not from the ashes of such a catastrophic event. I didn’t see how the doll commemorated 9/11, maybe he was trying to use the doll to say something about the event but I just didn’t get it. To me it seemed like he was trying to be too creative with the dust.
Going to the sandwich shop was great! It was a really good opportunity to bond with my peers and I liked sitting down, having a meal, sharing a drink, and talking to my classmates. Buying all of us drinks was super sweet, and it’s not something I could see any other teacher doing for their class. Thank you so much Professor Pearl! Friday is definitely a day I’ll remember for a very long time! 😀
After mistakenly going to Chinatown, I stumbled upon ICP from the pouring rain and found myself astounded by the 9/11 exhibit. The striking set up of the exhibit, the room with huge screens with slideshows on the walls, and powerful pictures captivated my heart into a state of grief. I found tears welling in my eyes after seeing pictures of children clinging onto their parents, people embracing one another in an anguish captured by the photo, and a woman in a white head scarf crying. I was amazed by the pictures of construction workers, firemen, and construction vehicles cleaning after the ruins of the towers. These pictures made Ground Zero look “unworldly,” depicting an apocalyptic sense with a touch of uncertainty and fear. I felt these photographs conveyed the perplexed feelings of 9/11 by simply showing things in different aspects.
Then we went to the Xu Bing’s Dust exhibit, which was unique and symbolic. For instance, I never would have thought of keeping the dust- which may have contained the dust of the rubble and the deceased mixed together- in a simple doll. And to imagine the exhibit building’s dust, even the spectator’s dust, may join the collected dust of the exhibit. While this dust touched the hearts of its audience with the remembrance of the attack, the audience touched the exhibit with the spectator’s emitted particles.
To wrap up the day, we ended lightly with a good vanilla malted (thanks to Professor Perl), a good burger, and fries and rings on the side. Friday was definitely an eventful day!
After going to the International Center of Photography, I could not agree more with Susan Sontag’s statement, “photographs may be more memorable than moving images because they are a neat slice of time.” The collection, “Here is New York” displayed both the grief and the despair of each and every New Yorker. The photos, which plastered the wall, all had their unique qualities and focused on one slice of time. From our study of the trauma from 9/11, I realized everyone has his or her own view of what happened on the day. Although this collection of photos is just a tiny portion of views, the display encompassed a more universal feel.
There was one photo that really stood out from the rest. It was a photo of a sign, which commented on “All of You Taking Photos”. Whomever wrote the sign questioned, “how can you capture the complexity on a 4”x 5” glossy”. Ironically her sign has been turned into a simple 4” x 5” glossy – but the photo is more than just a sign. Now it is hanging in the ICP questioning the right for exhibit’s photos to have even been taken. “Here is New York” was definitely not a room, which allowed people to forget, it provided viewers with the pictures to remember and mourn for those losses pictorially.
Though I have to say, the best part of the day came with the sip of a chocolate soda float. It was quite delicious and definitely a good way to raise my spirits after the mournful rainy day.
Going to the 9/11 exhibit at the ICP was a fairly interesting experience. I wouldn’t say that it was empathic for me, but rather reflective. I learned more about random details, like a paper boat in a trapped path train underneath the collapsed towers. It was the little things that got me. Probably the most surreal part was a five screen piece with five videos each (25 altogether, cycling on a 25 minute loop) called Cedariliberty. Of the 25, I felt a group that showed the fire department going through the debris was the most engaging. It was oddly surreal to see damage to nearby structures. I also realized that the damage was a lot less contained as I thought (which was odd because it would have been a very logical conclusion me for come to). Another interesting piece from the exhibit was a picture of the New York skyline before the attack that was accidently double exposed the film, leaving the wreckage superimposed on top of the skyline. It is somewhat haunting. Another thing that I saw was a series of missing persons posters on the side of one of the local pizzerias in my neighborhood, which was a bit odd for me. Again, I wasn’t here for 9/11, so I really didn’t see the immediate aftermath. I felt I got a better understanding of that.
One part of the attacks I’d never known about was Hangar 17 and I’d never considered the very obvious fact that the remains obviously had to have been moved from the site, elsewhere. For this reason, I particularly liked the section of the ICP’s exhibit dedicated to the destroyed remains of the towers at their present location. From the beginning the fact it was behind the black curtains, and therefore “more” physically separated from the rest of the rest of the exhibit, set up a sort of understanding that this was different from the rest of all that which is 9/11 related. In a way, the objects kept at Hangar 17 are the corpse of the World Trade Center. I distinctly remember that as I watched the images of steel that had been changed from their original rigidity to strange, almost fluid shapes due to the intense heat and pressure they’d been subjected to, I thought of the human bodies and their being inexpressively frailer than steel.
I enjoyed the photographs of the here is new york section of the exhibit as well, and found the images of firefighters and policemen and women looking haggard and tired, covered in dust from the site, taking small breaks or naps right on the sidewalks the most touching. And although I myself had never had these thoughts in the direct aftermath of the attacks, I found myself feeling very grateful to all the service people.
On the other hand, I didn’t enjoy Xu Bing’s exhibit very much at all and found it to be somewhat disrespectful considering this dust isn’t simply the dust from objects from the World Trade Center, but very likely also ashes from people who perished there.
But to end on a bright note, I really loved Eisenberg’s and our temporary domination within. (I tend to think food is more pleasing when it’s shared with others and find others— and myself— more agreeable when food is around.) It was lovely to have conversations across a number of tables with my classmates and found the malted milkshakes to be quite delicious. Thanks again Professor!
Lovely responses, everyone! Your comments are insightful. Here are some lines that struck me from each of you:
Alison: I could not agree more with Susan Sontag’s statement, “photographs may be more memorable than moving images because they are a neat slice of time.”
Hansol: That was it. It was just a picture of a statue man’s hidden face and a flower. Nevertheless, as soon as I turned around the corner to enter the exhibition room and saw the photo, I got chills. Punctum.
Tim: One that was really cool was the picture of the “missing” photograph: a missing poster with a picture of the two twin towers (like the posters for missing kids) and a caption saying “last seen on 9-11-2001”. That was such a powerful photo…
Joe:My favorite Eugene Richard photograph was the one of the earth-mover’s claw reaching to lift up the rubble from ground zero. If you had no knowledge of the context of the photograph, you could probably still associate it with the 9/11 clean up because the images were unforgettable. Also, the human element was removed from the photograph. It was simply a picture of a machine reaching into a mountain of rubble, with no conceivable bottom.
Karem: In a way, the objects kept at Hangar 17 are the corpse of the World Trade Center. I distinctly remember that as I watched the images of steel that had been changed from their original rigidity to strange, almost fluid shapes due to the intense heat and pressure they’d been subjected to, I thought of the human bodies and their being inexpressively frailer than steel.
Lucas: It was the little things that got me.
Hayoung: It was just his face that caught my attention.
Sifaat: I found tears welling in my eyes after seeing pictures of children clinging onto their parents, people embracing one another in an anguish captured by the photo, and a woman in a white head scarf crying.
Rebekah: Gregg Brown’s “Above Ground Zero” photographs made me stop walking and stare. They just had so much contrast in them; for example there was a picture of a peaceful blue sky with rubble from the fallen towers all over the place. Uneasy is the only way I can think of to describe the way I felt looking at those pictures.
Stephanie: Rather than feeling choked up by seeing the physical destruction with all of the debris and the smoke, I felt mournful at the site of the little things. The boat, the snow globe- they were my punctum; they made me feel….The photo of the sign made by “firegirl, nyc, 9/17/01″ also struck me, and my mind automatically returned to the piece we discussed in class. Hirsch mentioned her discomfort in photographing the days after the event, and feeling a sense of disrespect in her actions. The girl denounces those who photographed the aftermath, questioning whether they “really see what’s here, or it [they’re] concerned about getting the perfect shot.” I thought it was an interesting point, and pondered over that photo for a while. I wondered whether “firegirl” had visited the ICP and seen that photo of her sign; whether she had been maybe pleased, or angry by the photo. Whether the woman also standing next to me was in fact, her. Does “firegirl” remember writing it? Does she think about it, and does she resent the photos and the media when she turns on her tv and sees all of this?
Natalia: When I first got downstairs to the 9/11 part of the museum I went into the room with the projections of the scrap metal and rubble being conserved at JFK Airport. I was puzzled over why they were keeping so much of the scraps. … Parts of the infrastructure and relatable artifacts are important but why keep what cannot be used? My family’s explanation was, “they don’t know what to dump.” It makes sense. After having lost so many lives and artifacts how can the people who decide this stuff, decide what is worthy of keeping? How can one group of people be responsible for determining the destiny of thousands of peoples’ tragedy?
Taylor: There was one photograph in particular that stood out to me. An NYPD officer, in full formal attire, salutes rigidly to an unseen person or object ahead. He stands, with tears pouring down his face, and the most heartbreaking expression I’ve ever seen on a grown man’s face. It gave me the chills. I felt his pain and fear and saw his vulnerability through that one simple shot.
Jordan: The Buddhist/ash exhibit really gave me the “visceral” experience we discussed in class. Looking down from the make-shift platform onto the dreamy, quasi-spiritual display, I couldn’t help but feel dwarfed by its monumental evocations. Written in the ashes before me was the question, “…where does the dust itself collect?” On what plane of existence? In memory? Upon the physical earth? The whole thing gave me this sense of oneness. A sense of unity. By coming in direct contact with life’s temporality (the ashes on the floor), I felt a connection with every other living human being.
Harry: There was a photograph in particular that caught my attention. Two photographs were put side by side to show the before and after 9/11. The firefighter was showing his son how to slide down the firehouse pole in August 2001. Two months later, a memorial for that same firefighter was placed near the firehouse pole. The contrast of joy and pain in such a short period of time reminded me of how the firemen went into the scene when everyone else was running away.
Jonny: There were two pictures that stood out to me the most. First was the picture of the top view of the twin towers peeking over a sky filled with clouds. Besides from being a breathtaking photo, this picture was a symbol of the enormousness of the twin towers and how it is the opposite today. The next picture that stood out to me was in the section of missing people photos. It said: “Missing: 110 story office building, filled with thousands of innocent souls, center of great human achievement.”
Daisy: I especially liked one photo of a hand reaching towards a snow globe encasing a miniature World Trade Center, covered in dust on the outside from the debris. It was very symbolic in that the glass about the toy towers was somehow protecting them from the dust, like our memories protect the tragedy of 9/11 from ever fading away.
Steve: Finally, all of us went to Eisenberg’s, a relic of the past that lasts even today.
Romi: My favorite part of Eisenberg’s sandwich shop was the malt shakes.
Prof. Perl: Thanks to all of you for your thanks…and you’re welcome.
Meghan Bravo
Sadly, I was not able to attend the class trip to the ICP but I was able to go on a later date with my mother. Even though it would have been enjoyable to go with the entire class, going with my mother brought me an experience I would not have gotten otherwise.
Looking through the 9/11 exhibit, I felt the sadness and emptiness of the aftermath the falling of the towers brought. Even though this feeling was overpowering it was not unexpected. In the middle of my reflection and viewing of the pictures, my mother leaned in and whispered, “ I know him.” The slideshow flashed a picture of a firefighter that passed away during 9/11, Christian Michael Otto Regenhard, a man my mother attended high school with.
At first, I did not know what to think, I was shocked that out of the 343 firefighters that had passed that tragic day, that his name appeared upon the screen. I felt an immediate sense of grief, even though I had never known the man. This experience gave me a much different feeling towards the exhibit; I never thought I would have gained. This odd occurrence made it all seem more real, looking at the picture afterward made me realize how real it really was, I guess before, more or less I was just another outsider looking in, I never lost anyone in the attacks. But to see the connection between my mother and the deceased firefighter made the pain and anguish from the attacks, all the more real.
Overall, my experience at the ICP was very enriching and fulfilling. I gained a new perspective that I would have never had otherwise gained.