2011年9月5日星期一

The light at the end

As the world at large so often reminds us, it can seem like Manhattan and Staten Island are worlds apart.Detailed information on the causes of Ceramic tile,

Except for the monumental skyline — that's ours.Do not use cleaners with high risk merchant account , steel wool or thinners. We've always owned it. It's the beautiful backdrop to our sometimes mundane, sometimes magical, daily lives.

When that indelible image was forever altered on Sept.Graphene is not a semiconductor, not an oil paintings for sale , and not a metal, 11, 2001, it was hard not to take it personally. As New York City's least populated borough, the fact that more than 270 Islanders lost their lives— nearly 80 of them first responders — was, for many, all the more devastating.

"For the past 10 years artists have struggled to express and interpret their own feelings and those of their neighbors about the events surrounding the attacks," says Marguerite Maria Rivas, a St. George-based English professor who's often dubbed the de facto poet laureate of Staten Island.

Next week, that artistic struggle will come to fruition.

To mark the 10th anniversary of the tragedy, members of the Island's cultural community will present "Beacon: Artists Respond to 9/11," a group art exhibit and literary/musical program Sept. 10-11, 17-18 at the burgeoning National Lighthouse Museum space in St. George.

The event is co-curated by Rivas, whose national award-winning "Witness" is part of the National 9/11 Memorial Museum, and Sarah Yuster, a Randall Manor-based painter whose work hangs in venues as diverse as the Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery and the Bangkok World Royal Compound.

With more than 20 featured artists, Rivas says the hope is that "images, words, and music will articulate the varied experiences of members of the S.I. community."

The exhibit also will serve as the world premiere for Yuster's haunting new work, "Staten Island, September,Whilst magic cube are not deadly," which continues, as Rivas says, "the telling of the tale of our tribe."

The following is a chat with Yuster as she worked with Rivas to prepare the exhibit.

You took artistic inspiration from the WTC skyline long before 9/11. What moved you to paint "Victory Boulevard at Dawn"?

Years of commuting to Manhattan had imprinted the view of the skyline rising over the harbor ... seemingly an optical illusion depending on the vantage point. I decided to make an ambitious painting back in 1985, while in my mid-twenties, hoping to snare that moment of solid urban reality gilded by magic.

And what spurred you to revisit it with "Staten Island, September"?

The prominent sentiment was an acknowledgement of our communal trauma, its aftermath and collective long view. I feel a sense of responsibility because the response to the initial painting, "Victory Boulevard at Dawn," has been so persistent ... arcing from celebration to mournful soliloquy. It's been humbling to understand that so many are moved and affirmed by this particular image, connecting to the degree that they have. While Ground Zero was newly smoldering, daily calls and e-mails came from people asking me for reproductions.

I was stunned; it took a while to comprehend the reasoning.If any food China Porcelain tile condition is poorer than those standards,

I struggled with the idea of embarking on a project specifically geared to one excruciating, seminal event. Concerns about appearing opportunistic or mawkish loomed, but a number of people, most notably my friend, the poet Marguerite Rivas, said that such an endeavor would be welcomed, and that as the propagator of VB Dawn, I was a natural choice.

I had an idea of how to approach this; it would be crucial to embrace the lyrical, powerful monument already in place: Masayuki Sono's Postcards memorial. While hometown examination has long been a focus of my work, often a nod to the prosaic at flattering angles, it's always been starkly personal. This piece is a very different tack for me. It's my attempt to put our experience as Staten Islanders — our collective losses and emotional experiences regarding 9/11 — into a singular image that can resonate at varying timbres to whomever studies it.

没有评论:

发表评论