As a sculptor I feel
compelled to create art from objects connected to times that have passed
-transform them and release their energies into something new. This piece "The Crying Door" is one such creation.
In the weeks prior to the attack on the World Trade Center, I opened a
sculpting studio located on the north shore of Staten Island with a view of the
southern tip of Manhattan, as well as what came to be known as "ground
zero" of the World Trade Center site. When ferry service between
Staten Island and Manhattan resumed following the attack I was on board. For
those not familiar with New York City, the Staten Island Ferry passes in front
of the Statue of Liberty. It was in the predawn hours. The sky was darker then
usual due to the massive plume of smoke rising from the World Trade Center
site. The passengers on board were silent. In fact the only noise heard was the
sound of waves slapping the side of the vessel as we sliced through the dark
waters. As we were passing the Statue of Liberty a lone women's voice began
rising from the depths of passengers. It was a soft voice but with a sense of
determination. She was singing the words to God Bless America. Her voice grew
louder as others joined in. Soon the boat was filled with the sound of voices
singing in unison as we slid through the early morning darkness. I stole a look
at my fellow passengers and saw tears streaming down the faces of many. Few
made any attempt to wipe them away. Firemen, military personnel, policemen,
construction workers, business people, women and men stood together in the
darkness of that moment, in that space in time, sharing a unified emotion that
has stayed ingrained in my soul. The voices trailed off into the morning air
and stopped as they had started, ending with the sound of one voice
quietly fading till it was heard no more. We softly bumped into the ferry
terminal dock, the ramp was
lowered and we exited the boat looking straight ahead in silence.
I walked the few blocks to the site with a growing sense of
anxiety over what I was about to witness and I could feel energy
releasing from the earth just ahead. The enormity of the situation. left me
aghast as I reached the site. My mind had no reference point on which to
compare the magnitude and scope of the pile of smoldering rubble that lay
before me. “This could not be” were the only thoughts that filled my head. I
had experienced traumatic events in my life before but this was far beyond
my capabilities to absorb. After offering my assistance to a worker nearby and
being refused, I stood staring at the massive mountain of steel and concrete.
Gasps of horror were heard over and over coming from those that were now
approaching the site. Anguished screams of "NO, NO", many
accompanied with profanity echoed through the streets of lower Manhattan.
I wanted to cry and did.
Once the churning of emotions subsided I began to move with conviction to the task
that now lay before me. I had to create something. Some object that did not
exist before, but would now take shape from the rubble I was standing before.
It was in there, but where? I navigated the entire site returning to my home in
frustration at not having been able to secure the material I would need. A few
weeks later I was able to contact a worker that was removing debris from the
site and transporting it to Staten Island’s land fill. The Authorities were
keeping an understandably tight grip on the materials being removed, due to the
fact that the remains of loved ones were still present in the debris and that
the site had been designated as a crime scene, prohibiting removal of material.
Therefore, materials for the piece of art I envisioned had to come from one of
the peripheral buildings adjacent to the site. The worker eventually located
some broken wood pieces and a smashed door that lay on the side of the street
between the two buildings standing west of the site. The buildings had been
damaged by the collapse of the World Trade Center, and the remains of what once
were business offices were now left discarded on the street below. When his
workday was completed he collected some of those materials and delivered them
to my studio on Staten Island.
The materials I have used in my sculpture stood witness to the events of that
day in September of 2001, and have now been transformed into an expression of that
experience as a piece of Art.