Saturday, October 22, 2011

My Home Town

I haven’t blogged since mid-August. Too much going on with Horizon House, SRJO, Mt. Baker Rowing; plus an anniversary trip to England; five days in DC for the annual meeting of Leading Age, the trade association for not-for-profit providers of homes for and services to the aged; and getting back into the stone yard at the Pratt Fine Arts Center. Lots of pent-up topics to explore, but first, my trip to DC.
That I hadn’t been in Washington in quite awhile was attested to by an old, out-of-date Metro pass when I tried to use it. Four new monuments have gone up in the interim. I played hooky from the conference one day to walk about and visit the WWII and Korean War monuments, the new memorial to MLK, and the FDR memorial.


The WWII monument would be better suited to London or Rome; it is nothing other than an imperial statement of triumph. Cold, massive, impersonal, an overbearing testament to institutional power. The only showings of humanity are in relatively small bronze plaques mounted along the walls of the entrance way. These are wonderful bas-reliefs of service men and women in action, and the civilians who worked to provide them the materiel and supports they needed to prevail. Who softens the impact of the whole are the visitors – veterans in wheel chairs, some in old uniforms, being brought in reunion groups or by families to recall and re-live their moments of service. Their eyes told their tales.



The monument to the Korean “police action” could not have presented a greater contrast. Far and away the most moving of the four, this platoon of haunting, life-sized figures moving wearily and warily, wearing ponchos against the cold and rain, a unit yet each in his own solitude. The monument is dedicated to “those who fought for a country they had not heard of and a people they never met.” The crowd was filled with Koreans, probably connected to the visit of President Lee last week. All visitors were sober and silent, especially along the wall engraved with photos of troopers, now vets, in which were reflected these ghostly figures whose expressions seemed only to say “how do I get out of here alive?” or “I want to go home.”



Preparations were underway for the next day’s dedication of MLK’s monument. But a good crowd had found the way, and one could feel the black pride and the respect of we others. The statue is yet raw; it will weather in time. My first reaction was and is that it’s not a good likeness of King, but who am I to judge? Andrew Young has been quoted as saying it is the best likeness he has seen. The figure is strong, almost a bit overbearing. It is heroic and brave, which I know he was, but without the humility that I like to think he also showed. I might have guessed, from my Kuaui Lagoons experience, that it was sculpted in China; it has that massive, muscular quality of their monument style. His quotes along the marble walls are timelessly inspiring. (Black marble walls are apparently de rigueur since Maya Lin’s Viet Nam memorial success.)



It is FDR’s that is the most impressive of the four. Massive, rough granite walls delineate chambers open to the sky; lovely landscaping of the four and a half acres creates a peacefulness that not even giddy high-school trippers posing with Fala or smirking at the bronze bread line can disrupt. The statues are accessible – just over life-size, emotive, designed to engage rather than inspire awe. Eleanor is there, by herself, away from his side – as she so often was in life –wrapped in her thoughts and concerns which so resonate in this 21st century. And FDR’s quotes, about confidence, foreclosures, unemployment, finding solutions together – unfortunately, they could have been written yesterday.

Also in DC this week were a couple of camps of “occupiers.” Sparse, sad, not much local support. (I gave a brief, impromptu lecture in one, on the unfortunate histories of 'corporations as people' and 'cash as speech.') I suppose the lack of enthusiasm reflects the stake Washingtonians have in their status quo, whether staffers or bureau employees or regulators or lobbyists or contractors. Money out of politics? -- no thank you. That one percent? -- well who else will keep the machine oiled?






So, a good visit back to my home town, as politely cynical and corrupting as ever. But despite that, when all is said and done, Mr. Lincoln is still my guiding light.