Accademia di Architettura di Mendrisio, Università della Svizzera Italiana, 2014

Monuments and memorials attempt to create a shared memorial experience unifying plural segments of population, even if it is only during a brief “memorial moment”. But, although past history is shared, the ways to remember cannot be unified. By creating common shared spaces for memory, monuments spread the illusion of collective remembrance. But memory is always personal and disparate. Everyone memorializes something different. Context and circumstances change, politics and culture as well. So, without people’s intention to remember, these landmarks of remembrance are just inert fragments on the landscape. Placing the weight of remembrance and regret on art’s unbearable lightness of being, a public redemption is advertised and performed under high-art’s tutelage. But, where genuine art is produced as self reflexive, public monuments are produced to be historically referential, to lead viewers beyond themselves to an understanding or evocation of events. Where art invites viewers to contemplate its own materiality, or its relationship to other works before and after itself, the aim of memorials is to draw attention to past events. Preserving and cultivating the memory of an historical moment through a nation’s idealized self-presentation. Instead of placing memory at the disposal of public awareness, traditional memorials and monuments close memory from the consciousness of its viewers. Transforming what should be an exercise in self-determination and non-conformity, into a servile response to a dissimulated standardization of memory. Acknowledging such misconceptions and the impossibility of embodying memory-work. Some contemporary artists would question the status and representativeness of monuments, inquiring and breaking-down their purpose. As a result, the concepts of “vanishing monument” and “counter-monuments” emblematized Germany’s conflicted struggle with Holocaust memory. These “anti-monuments” formalize their impermanence and mutation of form in time and in space. In their conceptual self-destruction and self-negation, referring not only to physical impermanence, but also to the emergency of all meaning and memory, especially that embodied in a form that insists on its eternal fixity. If from one side, an important shift from conventional monuments was nevertheless achieved, trying to get rid of a posture of pious obeisance. On the other hand, counter-monuments were still subject to appropriation into the meta-narrative of redemptive memorialization. Thus, becoming no more than an attenuation of the monument as representation. By leaning specifically on the Holocaust and the German’s obligation to tangibly represent and atone their guilt. This work attempts to study the relation between landmarks of remembrance and collective memory versus collected memory. Baring the ambiguities and contradictions of this tantalizing altercation through a carefully selected body of works which show us how thinkers, artists and architects tackled with this daunting and stimulating task. Not only responding to a specific set of requests but also subverting and questioning the need for a catalyst of remembrance such as memorials and monuments.

Constellations, 2020

Public monuments and memorials, which are erected in the urban environment in order to commemorate significant historical events and personalities, have been recognized by scholars as sites at which hegemonic understandings of the past are reinforced (Saunders, 2018: p. 33). They constitute symbols of "public memory" (Bodnar, 1993) and can take on the function of significant lieux de mémoire (Nora, 1989), giving concrete form to dominant conceptions of national history and identity. Given the resources that must be mobilized to create them, both monetary and political, such forms of public commemorative art (as we will term them here) have been acknowledged as a means by which "those with political power within a given society organize public space to convey (and thus teach the public) desired political lessons" (Levinson, 2018: 7). This hegemonic function of public commemorative art is most often associated with the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, in which emerging bourgeois democracies in capitalist nation states sought to establish the dominance of their values in an explosion of "statuomania" (Michalski, 1998: pp. 13-55). In stark contrast, the late twentieth century and early twenty-first century have been marked by a shift toward memorial practices that seek to move away from avowedly heroic understandings of national identity, for example, by acknowledging the victims of historical crimes perpetrated in the name of the nation. The most famous example of this is undoubtedly the Memorial for the Murdered Jews of Europe in Berlin, but Germany is not alone in acknowledging past atrocities in this way (cf. Williams, 2007). Equally, Doss (2010) identifies a trend toward the construction of new forms of public commemorative art that seek to acknowledge previously marginalized groups, often focusing more on past suffering than on the achievements or victories. Such demands for memorialization have gone hand-in-hand with forms of identity politics and demands for the recognition of rights in the present. In a parallel development, activists have sought solutions to the presence of commemorative art in the urban landscape that celebrates values no longer deemed to be representative of the community. Such counter-memorial practice, as we will discuss in more detail below, generally involves the critical augmentation of an original memorial by This is an open access article under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs License, which permits use and distribution in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited, the use is non-commercial and no modifications or adaptations are made.

This article analyses strategies of material commemoration in contemporary urban spaces. Deploying a philosophical and socialtheoretical interpretation systematised by, in particular, Multimodal Critical Discourse Studies and its analysis of material commemoration, the article compares the semiotics of modes of commemorating through monuments and counter-monuments. As is argued, counter-monumental commemoration aligns much better than the traditionally static and non-dialogic monuments with the ongoing post-modern transformation and fluidity of contemporary urban spaces. By the same token, countermonuments also allow commemoration of complex and difficult past events – such as the Holocaust – that are traditionally surrounded by multiple interpretations and often-conflicting attempts to commemorate them. The analysis at the core of the paper looks in-depth at counter-monumental installations known as Stolpersteine, or Stumbling Blocks, developed since the early 1990s by the German artist Gunter Demnig as a form of commemoration of victims of National Socialism and especially the Holocaust. As is suggested, counter-monuments such as the Stolpersteine carry multiple meanings and have multiple functions which allow for diverse patterns of interaction with past/present. They also allow embedding the dialogue between forms of commemoration (monument/counter-monument) various recipients (locals/tourists, spectators/passers-by) as well as their varied interpretations and expectations of commemoration in the discourse of contemporary urban space.

2018

We often acknowledge and memorialize events of human suffering through works of art. This sometimes begins as a personal statement, as was the case with Picasso’s Guernica . Oftentimes such acknowledgments take the form of a national statement, such as the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe (Denkmal fur die ermordeten Juden Europas) in Berlin. The Berlin memorial raises challenging moral and aesthetic questions regarding the memorializing function of such public monuments. What sorts of experiences are such memorials intended to evoke in the viewer? Is there a tension between the aesthetic experience and the “real” emotions such memorials engender? Does the didactic nature of such works rest comfortably with their aesthetic function? Are these functions mutually exclusive? Such questions are addressed in this chapter.

Viso: cadernos de estética aplicada, 2019

Public memorials have in the last decades adopted abstraction instead of figurative representation to refer to the historical events they commemorate. This is specially the case of traumatic historical events, such as 9/11. While this stands in stark contrast to the tradition of war memorials, it connects them to a significant change in the way these events are conceptualized. As the victory over an enemy, as in war memorials, became a loss for all humanity, as in recent traumatic events, such as the paradigmatic case of the Holocaust, monuments opened themselves to critical interpretation. Thus, these monuments and memorials not only commemorate, but also comment or condemn the events they refer to. This is further complicated, however, when it comes to the boundaries between nations and communities of grief, such as in the aforementioned case of 9/11. In these cases, the rhetoric of favoring abstraction over figuration – which I call, drawing on Jacques Rancière, irrepresentation – places these events in a neutral zone, disconnecting them from their political consequences but also from a overall politics of the production and circulation of images. Drawing from Rancière but also from Reinhart Koselleck and Talal Asad, this paper addresses these issues through a critique of irrepresentation in contemporary public memorials, arguing that the collective celebration of private mourning cannot overshadow the political character of these events.

How do memorials shape who we think we are? And how are our identities involved when we debate, create, and interact with memorials? This essay engages in a conversation with scholarship on intersectional identities and memorial practices in Berlin. Intersectionality scholarship, with its roots in US critical race feminism, has much to offer for thinking about the complexity of identities, yet it does not consider the role of memory, time, and temporality. The scholarship on memory and memorials, in turn, does not sufficiently consider the complexity of identities of those who are memorialized and of those who visit memorials. The essay asks how three different monuments for Nazi victims in Berlin allow for or facilitate the memory of complex identities. The example of the Monument for the Persecuted Homosexuals shows that memorial practices can be crucial in contemporary identity politics and social movements. The essay calls for a more self-reflexive approach to the role of identities and complexity in memorial scholarship and practice.

Anthropological Quarterly, 1999

On 27 January 1993 the German federal government decided to set up in Berlin a national memorial to 'those killed through war and violence' during the Second World War. 1 The choice of site clearly referred back to a previous memorial, the 'new guard house' (Neue Wache) in the centre of the nation's capital, Berlin. This modest classicist building of the i83os 2 had been dedicated to a similar purpose in 1931. At that time, more than ten years after the end of the First World War, the Prussian state government had proposed erecting a memorial and called for a public debate on its proper form. The most unheroic and unsentimental plan was chosen. The architect Tessenow's design avoided any reference to 'grand' historical or political meanings of death in war. Subsequently, the Nazi government transformed the Neue Wache into a shrine celebrating the 'undefeated heros' of the Second World War whom the Nazi movement claimed as their own immediate ancestors. In 1945 the Soviet administration closed the hall but prevented its destruction by East German authorities. And in the 19505 the East German government no longer ignored the symbolic capital invested in the site. It was here that the German Democratic Republic presented a symbol of its claim to be the 'better part' of German Author's note: The notes contain that dimension of the story which is rendered by the archival material. They provide a parallel text and appear therefore as footnotes to make them available during the reading without turning pages. 1 On 13 November 1993, the annual Day of National Mourning, Chancellor Kohl dedicated the memorial, although this project of his had encountered harsh criticism; see the New York Times of 15 November and also below. 2 Its classic Greek-temple style is owing to the architect, Friedrich Schinkel, who in the 18205 and 18305 reshaped the appearance of central sites of downtown Berlin with his buildings of Empire-style and 'classicist' design.

Australian Journal of Politics and History, 2000

On 27 January 1993 the German federal government decided to set up in Berlin a national memorial to 'those killed through war and violence' during the Second World War. 1 The choice of site clearly referred back to a previous memorial, the 'new guard house' (Neue Wache) in the centre of the nation's capital, Berlin. This modest classicist building of the i83os 2 had been dedicated to a similar purpose in 1931. At that time, more than ten years after the end of the First World War, the Prussian state government had proposed erecting a memorial and called for a public debate on its proper form. The most unheroic and unsentimental plan was chosen. The architect Tessenow's design avoided any reference to 'grand' historical or political meanings of death in war. Subsequently, the Nazi government transformed the Neue Wache into a shrine celebrating the 'undefeated heros' of the Second World War whom the Nazi movement claimed as their own immediate ancestors. In 1945 the Soviet administration closed the hall but prevented its destruction by East German authorities. And in the 19505 the East German government no longer ignored the symbolic capital invested in the site. It was here that the German Democratic Republic presented a symbol of its claim to be the 'better part' of German Author's note: The notes contain that dimension of the story which is rendered by the archival material. They provide a parallel text and appear therefore as footnotes to make them available during the reading without turning pages. 1 On 13 November 1993, the annual Day of National Mourning, Chancellor Kohl dedicated the memorial, although this project of his had encountered harsh criticism; see the New York Times of 15 November and also below. 2 Its classic Greek-temple style is owing to the architect, Friedrich Schinkel, who in the 18205 and 18305 reshaped the appearance of central sites of downtown Berlin with his buildings of Empire-style and 'classicist' design.

Two Minutes of Standstill. A Collective Performance by Yael Bartana. (Eds. Florian Malzacher & Stefanie Wenner), 2014

Inspired by the Israeli memorial day Yom HaShoah, the holiday to commemorate the victims and resistance fighters of the Holocaust, Yael Bartana’s “Two Minutes of Standstill” in June 2013 called as part of Impulse Theater Biennale for a symbolic interruption of everyday life in Cologne. “Two Minutes of Standstill” was a political act, a social sculpture, and a collective performance in the city of Cologne.Historically the act of standstill and falling silent is a way to commemorate the dead. “Two Minutes of Standstill” called also for a reflection on the present. Already during the preparation of the performance a whole range of encounters occurred, positive and critical positions were formulated. But the harsh reactions of parts of the media and political scene – “Holocaust Porn for Intellectuals” (Die Welt) – was a surprise to the artist who had sought to transfer a ritual from her cultural background the to nation of perpetrators. So what does the specific way this history is told in Germany tell us about contemporary Germany? And what nerve did Yael Bartana’s performance touch to provoke such strong reactions?