Remembrance, Reminiscence

This Sunday, five of us visited the Detroit Institute of Arts during a Helicon field trip. Our original purpose was to check out the Caravaggio piece, Saint Francis of Assisi in Ecstasy, which is currently on loan from the Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art. DIA creates a mini exhibit of Caravaggio by displaying this painting next to Martha and Mary Magdalene, another Caravaggio’s work owned by DIA. Standing in front of these two paintings, I was surprised to realize that I’d seen both of them ten months ago in the Caravaggio exhibition held by Los Angeles County Museum of Art. This evocation of my personal memory turned out to be a prelude of the theme of our visit, because the notion of memory reappeared several times as we further explored the museum.

An exhibition of ofrenda altars caught our attention immediately. The exhibition is associated with the Day of the Dead, a Mexican holiday which is celebrated on October 31, November 1 and November 2 for people to commemorate family members or friends who have passed away. Traditionally, people would build ofrendas, which are basically private altars, to honor the dead. The exhibition consists of ten installations, each of which are dedicated to different people, animals, events and even ideas. One of the altars is for a former baseball player, which is evident since there is a huge poster showing a skeleton in a baseball player outfit, with a baseball cap on his head and a baseball bat in his hands. Another altar serves to remember the deceased pets, on which people put lovely photos of puppies and kitties, stuffed animals, canned dog food to show their long-lasting love and care for their former pets. There are also ofrendas to honor the Mexican American soldiers or to bless emigrants who have died while traveling.

My favorite one is Women’s Song for the Water, by Catherine Peet. This ofrenda memorizes the creatures that died when 200 million gallons of crude oil flooded the gulf of Mexico in 2010. The altarpiece is in the shape of a container, with glass doors that allow people to see what’s inside. Two sea birds stand on top of the container, bending forward as if they are two receptionists presenting this work to the viewer. Around the container are various sea creatures, such as sea shells, sea snails, sea snails, octopuses, turtles, and sea plants. Inside the glass doors, there are lovely fishes and beautiful corals. However, this pleasant scene of harmony is overturned if one looks further inside, where skeletons and skulls occupy the inner space, implying the underlying dangers and threats. This visual commemoration of the event definitely calls for people’s attention to the protection of environment and ecosystem.

Another awesome exhibition on view in DIA is Foto Europa, on European photography. Not a big fan of photography, I’ve never taken any classes on it and I’m always too lazy to take photos while traveling. I was wandering around idly in the gallery when suddenly a photo series caught my eyes. It was L’album de Photographique de Christian Boltanski (the photo album of Christian Boltanski). In the photos, the photographer recreates scenes from his childhood memories such as birthday parties and favorite games by entering the original settings with an adult body but act like a 4-year-old. In one particular scene, around-35-year-old Boltanski is sitting on one side of a seesaw and next to him are several kids playing on another two parallel seesaws. I learned from the description of this photo that when he was little, Boltanski’s favorite game was to play on a seesaw with his grandpa. In another photo, the grown-up Boltanski is presenting a puppy to the camera with a big smile, and the description goes like, “This is my sixth birthday and I get a puppy as a gift. It’s so cute. I really love it.” In another scene, he is playing a set of chess (probably? Can’t remember well) he used to play a lot when he was little with his nephew. All the descriptions are written in simple and childlike sentences. However, upon reading them along with the photos, I couldn’t help but start this melancholy mood and reminisce about my own childhood memories. Maybe I was just emo, but who doesn’t want to go back to his/her childhood? All grown-ups were once children. Boltanski is playing the 4-year-old him, but around him are the real 4-year-olds. Nobody could go back to his/her childhood; however, there are always children in the world, just like there are adults. Here, childhood never ends.

(Just a side note: for people who are taking history of photography with Professor Fay, coming to see this exhibit could get you extra credits for the class, so you should definitely check it out!)