Faces

I'm not sure I can give justice to the experiences I had today in writing. I'll attempt for the sake of sharing my experience.

Today, we took a field trip to the Jewish Museum. I took this image from the internet in order to give you a visual and so that I am able to talk about the architecture without having to also describe it. This is a model of the museum and we are currently looking at the back side. The upside-down U shaped building to the right is where you enter, but on the opposite side than is facing us. When I entered the museum, it seemed like any other museum. They check your bag, you walk through a metal detector, then you visit coat check (Where they also made me check my bag, which means Pete got a nice nap this afternoon, but sadly didn't get to see the museum.) Everything was pristine. We were led through the museum by two of our professors. To enter the museum, you have to go underground. The staircase in the U shaped building leads you to the unique building to the left. Although the majority of the museum is underground.

The image below, also from the internet, shows you the layout of the underground hallways, called axis'. Each axis leads to what the architect calls voids. Before I talk about the voids I want to first talk about the design of the building above ground. One of the professors who was describing the building to us, when we were looking at the exact model above, pointed out how broken this building looks, how there aren't many windows and the most interesting thing, the line portraying the brokenness on the roof of the building stretching from one end to the other. The line is made up of windows, it appears black.

The first void we entered was the Holocaust tower. Although the architect originally called it the 'voided void.' The void is the obscure shape connected to the hallway on the bottom right. As I walked towards the void, the cold draft become stronger. Upon arrival, opening the door to the void, I made out the cement walls form the light being letting in from the hallway while simultaneously being hit by the gust of what feels like an industrial freezer. I stood among many. As the door slowly closed, I slowly lost sight of the classmates that stood among me. Darkness. Nowhere to look but up. A dim light. Its distance indistinguishable, yet unreachable. Longing for the comfort of anthers reaction I looked around, darkness. Not even indistinguishable figures, just nothingness. A void. Suddenly I regained sight. Some entered, some left. As I stood, faces faded to nothingness. All I had was the light. I was physically able to move, but emotionally paralyzed. Faces. Some enter, some leave. My only movement coming from my neck. Darkness. Dim light. Faces. The majority exited, I felt the urge to follow. As I crossed the threshold, squinting, heart in a fog. I realized that I felt as though no one would ever find me if I was ever left in there. I felt the absence. I felt blind. I felt helpless. Even though I was surrounded by many, I was in fact alone. Suddenly I was warm. I had forgotten I was even cold.

The next exhibit we walked to is called the garden of exiles. This exhibit was closed due to the weather. It is pictured on the map above as the square grid. The image below is also from the internet because we could not experience it. I wanted to describe it though because what my professors were saying about it really struck me. From inside the museum, I could only see out the window located at the base of the pillars. If I got close enough to the window and looked up, I could see the trees emerging from the top. My professors told us that in walking through these pillars, one is supposed to feel incredibly disoriented. Not only are the pillars extremely tall, the base of the grid is on an angle. So as you are walking through the grid, depending on where you are at, you are either walking on an incline or decline. One of the professors made a comment about how the grid has no confines, so one is never really trapped, but the disorientation brings on that feeling. She related it to the holocaust, but also said how it could be applied to many situations, in saying that in a concentration camp, one could leave, but then what would happen? And another insight she brought was about the trees inside the hollow pillars. Said they are supposed to be commenting/questioning whether life can come out of such confinement, such harsh conditions. I didn't even get to experience this exhibit, yet lingering on the outskirts impacted me.













The third and final void is on the map as the memory void. but isn't really pictured on the map. I heard loud clashing and clanking. When I turned the corner I saw a bunch of people walking on uneven ground. Naturally I joined in. Upon my first step, at my eyes met my foot on its grounding, my heart froze. Sole on face without hesitation. Complete unawareness. No turning back, I became a part of the clanking. One foot in front of the other. Slowly making my way to the back of the void. Only stopping to watch a peer pick up a face to examine it. Carrying the burden with the face leaving it behind only to bear more. In the very back was a corner of darkness. Turning around I felt the need to capture the moment. It is what you see below. What I failed to notice in the moment that I see now are the shadows. The shadows that are cast in front of you as you walk in and behind you as you walk out. There are faces that can't see our lasting shadow, but they sure can feel its weight.

After the picture I knew a picture wasn't enough. So I took this video. Although, it still fails to do this void justice. 

About an hour after I had left the last void, I was in a completely different exhibit and I looked out the window to see this, void. Or is it? It is full yet empty. Seemingly untouched. It makes me sick to admit this looks like coins. Maybe it just another huge statement being made?

There was more to the museum that these interactive exhibits, but they failed to be anywhere near as impactful as the voids. Although the exhibit on circumcision was entertaining. This ad was outside the building before we entered. I thought it was amazing no only that this exhibit exists but also how openly they could advertise it publicly. I love how an image like this can be used in an advertisement for a museum exhibit because it isn't seen as erotic. And I mean come on, the advertising is genius. I knew exactly what it was about without being able to read the German. This specific ad was on the back of my ticket. 

To end, I leave you with a picture of one of the last things I saw, this tree. In some ways it feels like a body. In other ways, many things making a whole, but to me, a hopeful tree. 

Although it does have an eerie feel to it, in some way it makes me feel hope. I think it's in the unpredictability of its shadow. 

Even in a place with some of the darkest history, there is humor and there is hope. 

Abigial