Deathgate

DEATHGATE 36 The streets and thoroughfares were pitted with bomb craters, the pavements cracked and broken. The survivors filled these uneven petalled holes with red resin creating a vast series of shapes that became known as the “Sarajevo Roses.” They are silent places of memory that allow passersby to construct their own narratives and enable multiple versions of memory and history to co-exist. 10 Another installation designed by Vedad Orahovac in 2012 to mark the twentieth anniversary of the siege of Sarajevo consisted 825 rows of 11,541 red plastic chairs that stretched for 800 metres. There was one chair for each of those killed, and included in the number were 643 small chairs for each child who died. 11 The use of multiple elements and the enormity of the scale find resonance with Elborne’s “Deathgate.” The installation “Shalekhet “(Fallen Leaves), a permanent exhibition at the Jewish Museum in Berlin is a work that has considerable empathy with “Deathgate”. Created by the Israeli sculptor Menashe Kadishman between 1997 and 2001 it comprises over 10,000 faces cut out of plate steel. It is located in the Memory Void, one of the five voids created by architect Daniel Libeskind to symbolize the trauma of absence and emptiness left by those who perished in the Holocaust. 12 Kadishman, however, dedicated his artwork to all victims of violence and war. The metal discs, with their empty eye sockets and gaping mouths, are piled on the floor. Visitors are invited walk on the faces and listen to the hollow, echoing sounds of metal against metal. 13 Memory can be subjective and deeply personal but also there is the collective aspect and this is where site-specific memorials are historically significant, especially for commemorative ceremonies. However, remembrance, compassion, acknowledgement, respect, sorrow: all aspects of memorialization are both specific and universal. The Holocaust also carries universal warnings about totalitarian regimes and their potential for evil, that passive non interference must be replaced by active opposition to evil wherever it occurs, and that we must recognize individual freedoms and human rights. 14 While the Nazis’ sinister plan for domination failed, the world has seen further attempts at mass destruction which have shocked and undermined our humanitarian values. The American author John Steinbeck was aware of the cyclic nature of evil and the frailty of human nature but he also believed in the power of the human spirit’s capacity for hope. In a letter written from Europe at the end of World War II was both a warning and a slightly cautious reassurance, he wrote: “All the goodness and the heroisms will rise up again, then be cut down again and rise up. It isn’t that the evil thing wins — it never will — but that it doesn’t die.” 15 While memorials in specific locations act as permanent reminders of evil and sacrifice, memorialization can occur in different contexts and in places quite separate from the sites that witnessed the events. The links then become metaphorical and symbolic, heightened by awareness and an intensity of feeling as well as the needs and requirements of the individual concerned. This is true of “Deathgate.” It was created and located in the southern hemisphere, eons away from Europe and the proximity of horror. But Australia has been a popular refuge, albeit a sometimes reluctant one, for immigrants fleeing the tribulations of Europe even over a century ago. One such person was a Russian Jew by the name of Henry Spiro. He came to Queensland in 1861 and then moved to Toowoomba where he opened a store in Geddes Street. He was elected an Alderman in the Municipal Council and in 1870 became the mayor. Spiro was responsible for the building of the first synagogue in Queensland. It was known as the Beth Ysrael Synagogue and was located in Neil Street Toowoomba. 16