OLIVE BRANCHES

Fallen Leaves in a Void
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In the course of a visit to the Jewish museum in Berlin, in mid July 2014, I came across this truly creative and provocative piece. It is called Fallen Leaves. Some 10,000 faces punched out of steel are scattered on the ground. The work is dedicated not only to Jews killed in the holocaust, but to all victims of violence and war.

You are invited to walk over the faces
and listen to the sounds they make
as they shift beneath your feet.

This is what you see in front of you
as you try to keep your balance.

And this is what you nearly fall on top of.

It is hard to convey the emotional impact of this place. The noises made by the shifting faces remind you both of screams, varying in pitch and volume depending on the sizes and shapes of the faces making them, and of something like a clanking tank running over fleeing victims. It is quite unnerving.

Then, in the middle distance, a shaft of light which turns the faces to gold. What does it mean? Hope amid despair? Gold from the teeth of the dead? Just plain Shekels? Even more unnerving

Olive Branches

A nearby exhibit is the olive tree. Presented here as a symbol of fertility and peace. Visitors can write a wish or prayer for placing on the tree.

Unfortunately, the olive tree for me has become a symbol of the wanton destruction of the livelihood of Palestinians on the West Bank by illegal settlers. So this item brought me up a bit short.

And then a mental exercise suggested itself to me and I would like you to go back to the beginning of the Fallen Leaves and slowly go through the sequence again. Only this time, still being true to the artist's wider conception, imagine they are the faces of the Palestinians of Gaza.

Even more unnerving.


[My web page on the Jewish Museum]

Eine Entschuldigung

I was giving out recently on my website about the appalling amount and quality of the graffiti in Berlin. I thought it was really shocking. Much worse than Dublin, I thought. And I was probably right. But I'll have to get down a bit off my high horse after a walk along City Quay yesterday.

Having left Matt Talbot, in all his pristine glory, behind me I came across one of my favourite sculptures - The Linesman. A very powerful piece by Dony McManus (1999). And what did I see before me. Mindless graffiti. I was disgusted.

And then I came to Creighton Street, where I was turning away from the river to go to Pearse Street library. More mindless shite.

And this bit looks like a whole can of paint was thrown at the window and shattered it.

I moved along the street in the direction of Windmill Lane and more of it.

And this time I took a closer look at the stuff on Windmill Lane itself. I had a sort of a recollection from passing by on previous occasions that there was some good stuff there. But on a closer look it was just more shite. Given the location I had probably been retrospectively attributing some creativity to it.

But really, it was just more of the same.

So I continued my depressing journey up Creighton Street and, eventually, the graffiti were no more.

Anyway I'm just apologising to the Berlin graffitiers. I should have given out about our own crowd first.

However, now that I have done that, I still think much of the Berlin stuff is wanton and absolutely awful.