Villa Terrace exhibits Afghan war rugs

On the wall in the narrow, arched second floor corridor of Villa Terrace Decorative Arts Museum two rugs hang side by side. At a glance the similarities are more noticeable than the differences. Three groupings of large figures run vertically down the center of a space bounded by a precisely framed and detailed border design. The rug on the left is darker overall and more earthy in coloration, while the one on the right has a brighter, light tan background. This, combined with a simpler background design makes the figures on the right pop out more emphatically. The overall composition is the same, however, and the shapes and clothing styles of the central figures are nearly identical.

They are beautiful as well as exquisitely crafted, made with hand-spun and dyed, tightly knotted wool. Admirable for their utility as well as the quality of design and workmanship, a superficial appreciation might accrue to a cursory inspection. “Nice colors,” I overheard a visitor say in passing at the exhibit opening last night.

If your examination of these two remarkable rugs ended there you would miss what is arguably the most important feature of the rugs and a telling if visually subtle contrast between the two. The figures on the left hold guitars and other musical instruments, while those on the right grip assault rifles, rocket launchers, and other weapons. Furthermore, in the background on the left are stylized flowers, birds and other animals. The right includes clearly articulated tanks and warplanes.

The exhibit is called “Afghan war rugs: the modern art of central asia.” It will be on display at Villa Terrace through January 6, 2014. The rugs vary in size. Some are no larger than a small doormat; others hang floor to ceiling. Most are figurative and contain graphic depictions of modern weapons and warfare, as suggested in the title.

For anyone familiar with the typical rugs of central Asia, reactions to these are likely to include surprise if not shock. Many are far less subtle than the ones described above. In a room nearby, for example, is one that could easily elicit a strong emotional reaction. The top half depicts the New York skyline. The twin towers of the World Trade Center stand tall against a serenely blue sky. That sky also contains a single jet airliner flying directly towards the nearer tower. In the bottom half are a precisely detailed helicopter, an M1 Abrams tank, a soldier with upraised assault rifle, a surface-to-air rocket launcher, and several warplanes. These all overlie a map of Afghanistan. Dividing the two panels is a black band containing the words “waragainst-terrorist.” The parallel design leaves little room for interpretation of the bold pronouncement.

Most of the rugs in the exhibit are fairly recent creations, the oldest ones having been made in the 1970s. Seeing modern weaponry, depictions of contemporary cityscapes, as well as obvious references to 9/11 and the familiar war in Afghanistan, it is tempting to conclude that the grim subject matter is a recent development and a reaction to the country’s wars with first Russia and then the United States. Indeed, the wall texts and the essays in an accompanying brochure examine the history of these and other conflicts and include descriptions of specific weaponry employed by the various parties involved. Many of these weapons are depicted with great accuracy in the rugs.

However, at least one of the wall panels explained that the presence of weapons and the war-related imagery in Afghanistan’s artistic output predates recent events and is attributable to a more general belligerence based on tribal culture. “The long-standing martial traditions of the Pashtun (ethnic Afghans) guaranteed their social importance. Weapons were awarded upon puberty, and were a central decorative element with a powerful aesthetic charge for men and their homes….”

This exhibit of Afghan war rugs is not only well worth a visit. I believe it presents a truly unique body of work that combines idiosyncratic themes, ethnographic depth, and aesthetic quality. Villa Terrace is the premier venue for this exhibit in the United States. Milwaukeeans are lucky to have the opportunity to see it.

For more information go to Villa Terrace.

Balloons for peace in Afghanistan

"We Believe in Balloons" has launched an art & peace initiative in Afghanistan. Some say that the resources required would be better used for food and medical aid, but years of providing that have been tried and continue. So, what's the harm in a little artistic whimsy in a place that sorely needs it? 

According to an article in today's New York Times, it is very popular. I say power to the artists!

Cardinal Stritch shows The Face of War

Summer in Milwaukee is brief and fickle. It is a time to forget about the long, cold slog of what passes for spring, to get outdoors, attend the festivals on the lakefront. Paradoxically, we rush to relax, to enjoy the warmth before it vanishes. When it is warm it is glorious!

Summer in Milwaukee; who wants to be reminded of war? Even before the change in the weather, the mood of the country has shifted. Never fully engaged at home, after ten years the nation has become tired of war. But the fighting continues. The news from Afghanistan, like the uncertain weather here, is ambiguous: There has been progress; but it may not last. The Taliban seem to have been weakened, but there is fear of resurgence once the U.S. draws down its troop strength as planned this summer. And life for the troops themselves, as well as the Afghan people remains fraught with tension. Although the daily effort to survive has become easier, the unpredictability of violence is ever present.

In the midst of these divergent summer realities CardinalStritch University has brought us an exhibition of photographs from the Vietnam War. Do photographs from that war have any relevance to our current lives or provide a context for understanding the on-going predicament in Afghanistan and Iraq? I think they do.

The show is called “The Face of War: Vietnam Combat Photographers.” Unlike many of the now iconic – and to most of those of us who lived through it, searing and unforgettable – images from that tragic and divisive period in our collective history, most of these were taken by largely unknown military photographers. Half of the exhibit is award winning work by the late Robert J. Ellison, who has ties to Milwaukee and who died at the age of 23 in combat in Khe Sanh. The rest were done by members of the Department of the Army Special Photographic Office. The emphasis, as indicated by the title, is on the people involved. Most of the subjects are individuals. They are soldiers and civilians, American and Vietnamese.

If it weren’t for some of the captions, the photographs would reveal nothing of politics or military strategies. There is no reason for fighting in the faces that stare out of these frames. There is no anger, no patriotic zeal. Mostly we see numbing fatigue.

“The Face of War” is an exhibition, but there is little impulse to view the photographs as aesthetic objects. This in no way implies that they are inferior as pictures, poorly composed, or visually uninteresting. The quality of printing varies. Some of the images have been enlarged to a point that exaggerates the graininess of film; others are lush and beautifully toned. Some are in color, some black and white. But that is not the point.

The wall text makes a point of honoring the extraordinary talents and efforts of the photographers, and rightly so. But I don’t feel it diminishes their achievements to say that it is the subjects that are most affecting, not the varying styles or techniques of the photographers. What unifies this show is the consistent attention that is paid to the common humanity of the people being portrayed.

A shirtless American casually carries his weapon, his tanned skin contrasting starkly against a background of billowing bright purple smoke. A soldier is caught in the simple act of shaving, framed by sandbags. A platoon crouches in a trench as the earth above explodes and showers around them. A Catholic priest leads troops in prayer on bended knees.

In one photo, a line of people – helmeted U.S. soldiers carrying rifles, Vietnamese women in white shirts – wade through chest-deep water. We cannot see where they have come from or where they are headed. We do not know why they are there.

Wars are fought by ordinary people. The victims who suffer and die are ordinary people. We who live at a distance from our current war must go to some lengths to avoid thinking of this truth, for we too are ordinary people and it is likely to disturb our comfortable lives. Maybe we find it possible to wage war because we can go on about our daily lives and we can enjoy our summer activities. I found it revealing to take a short break from my own reality to gaze with compassion into the ordinary “faces of war.”

The exhibit runs through July 31. A closing reception will coincide with Gallery Night, July 29, and will feature a talk by the curator of the Wisconsin Veterans Museum as well as live music by Guitars for Vets. For gallery hours, directions, and more information about the exhibit, go to the Cardinal Stritch website.

The images that accompany this post are courtesy Cardinal Stritch University.

War: Missing in Action? An interactive installation at Merge Gallery

The United States has been at war for nine years. But, while our tax dollars have poured into Afghanistan and Iraq and our young men and women have fought and died, for the most part, our attention has been elsewhere. I don’t believe Americans typically think about being at war on a regular basis. The evidence doesn’t support such a conclusion. Unless you have a family member or friend in the military (which I don’t), the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan rarely intrude on our daily lives. They show up in the news with some regularity, of course, but these are wars interrupted by commercial messages—often overshadowed by commercial messages.

Along with the general public, artists largely go on about their business despite the ongoing wars. This is true of my own art work, although I try to keep abreast of world events. However, it is emphatically not true of the two artists who collaborate on an installation at Merge Gallery in Milwaukee’s Third Ward. It is called War: Humanity in the Crosshairs. Although the show has been up since the Fourth of July—no coincidence—I just got around to seeing it last weekend. Merge occupies a small space tucked away in a second-floor corner of the Marshall Building. The walls are rough bare brick. It’s a good setting for the stark, often rough images that surround you as you enter. Rows of what appear to be heavy caliber bullets (they are really metal pressure valves) are hung from the ceiling, creating an immersive experience; one must weave around them to see the work. It is immediately clear that this is not going to be standard art gallery fare.

War: Humanity in the Crosshairs is a collaborative installation by gallery owners Valerie J. Christell and Tori Tasch. They work separately in a variety of media, but their individual contributions complement each other beautifully and create a powerful and engaging combination.

This image from the installation pairs Christell’s “Residual Pain/Mines” (top) with Tasch’s image of a World War II era pin-up girl surrounded by the scrawled musings of sailors. The latter was inspired by the artist’s recent visit to the USS Bowfin, of WWII vintage. Christell’s work relates to the current conflict and sometimes incorporates photographs taken in Afghanistan by her son. Of this and similar pairings Christell says “the similarity between the gestures of sex and death is powerful.” It is indeed and so is the total effect of the installation, which has provoked many “thoughtful conversations.” I am not surprised. Art can—and should—serve many functions. Unfortunately, in my opinion, its function as the conscience of the culture seems to have gone out of fashion. But at what cost? The Merge installation seems to have tapped into an unsated hunger. Christell shared this observation: “Over and over I hear [from visitors] that, in spite of how tough the images/concepts are, this is needed.” I agree and I applaud Merge for providing it.

The mission of Merge Gallery is “to broaden audience awareness of social issues through the blending of artistic viewpoints.” Christell and Tasch plan to present a new theme related to contemporary issues and current events every three months. I for one look forward to the next installation. We need a venue for art that tackles the tough issues.

War: Humanity in the Crosshairs will be on display through October 2. Merge is located at 207 E. Buffalo St, Suite 204. Hours are noon – 4 pm Fridays and Saturdays.

You can see more images from the show at Valerie Christell’s website.