It belongs in a museum

Wow. I had hoped to discuss the monument issue in Baltimore before the problem received an official solution. But they took it down last night!

By "it" I refer to a rare double-equestrian statue of Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson. Three other monuments were also taken away, but the Lee/Jackson work is the one that made such a striking impression on me when I first explored that neighborhood. The work is -- was -- located in the park across the street from the Baltimore Museum of Art, the same park in which one also may find a memorial to Union soldiers and sailors.

If memory serves, the Lee/Jackson piece was erected in the 1950s. Make no mistake: The purpose of this work is pure glorification. The inscription on the pedestal offers no hint that these men were declared enemies of the United States.

The work has genuine art historical value, since it is very well-executed and double equestrian monuments are quite rare -- in fact, I can't think of another example. However, many African-American families live not far from that park. One can only imagine how parents felt when they brought their children to that place.

When Robert E. Lee re-conquered a city, he would re-enslave the black population. I'm not sure that he approved of this policy (dictated by the government of Jefferson Davis), but he enacted it, and I see no reason why people trying to have a nice day in the park should be reminded of what he did.

After the war, Lee opposed the erection of any monuments to the Confederacy; he felt that healing took precedence over all other considerations. Nevertheless, throughout the next century, many monuments to the Confederacy were built -- often in reaction to the struggle for civil rights.

My view is that such works must not be destroyed. The iconoclastic instinct terrifies historians, particularly art historians -- for example, England lost many important works after Henry VIII broke from the Catholic Church. Societies change; values change; politics change. But art endures. Art must endure, even when it offends.

Preservation, however, does not mean that such works should continue to dominate public spaces.

Context is all. A Lee/Jackson statue in a park sends a certain message: These were great men. We, the people of Baltimore, approve of what they did.

That's the wrong message.

In the words of Indiana Jones: It belongs in a museum. A museum setting will change the message.

Most people understand that museums do not glorify; they preserve. They allow us to study an artifact of the past; they do not compel us toward admiration or worship. In a museum setting, signs and curators can tell visitors the truth about Lee and Jackson, and can explain the social context which surrounded the creation of the work.

Everyone knows what Andrew Jackson did to the Cherokees, yet no-one objects to the paintings of Jackson in the National Portrait Gallery. Those portraits do not require us to admire what the man did. They simply say: Here he is. Here is what he looked like. Here is how a 19th century artist saw him.

Speaking as an artist myself, I must also point out that artworks exist to tell the story of the artist. To someone like me, the person that the artist was looking at is often of little importance.

Many people do not understand this point. Many people are very literal: They are word people. They reduce all painting and sculpture to rhetoric; they judge a painting by its subject matter. As I've written in at least one previous post, subject matter is the least interesting aspect of any painting or sculpture -- at least when viewed through the eyes of an artist.

When you visit the National Gallery in DC, you'll come across Jacques-Louis David's famous portrait of Napoleon in his study. If you are not an artist, your first thought will probably be: "Ah. Napoleon!"  

My first thought (back in 1986, during my first trip to DC) was quite different: "Ah. David!"

I see the artist. You see the emperor. I wish to hell I could make you see through my eyes, but you never will. Frankly, I've given up on trying to improve the vision of "word people" like you.

One could argue that this image of Napoleon is every bit as offensive as that double-equestrian statue which was recently removed from its perch in that Baltimore park. You may not care about the burning of Moscow, but Russians do. Napoleon's campaign in Egypt -- which began on the pretext of noble ideals -- devolved into sheer horror:

One particularly valued aid-de-camp named Sulkowski was sent with a message to General Dumas. While riding through the city his horse stumbled, and he was thrown. He was then beaten and massacred by the people, and his body thrown to the dogs. When one of Sulkowski's guides returned to Bonaparte, covered with blood and gave him the news, he was enraged. He ordered an officer named Croiser to take his men and find the tribe responsible for the uprising and the murder, burn their huts, kill their men and bring their heads back to show the population. Croiser and his men returned the next day, laden with sacks. As Bourrienne remembers, "The sacks were opened in the principal square, and the heads rolled out before the assembled populace. I cannot describe the horror I experienced..."

When the French arrived at Jaffa on March 3rd, the defenders there refused to surrender. On the 7th, the French launched a strong attack and the town fell that evening. During and after the attack, many French soldiers ran amok through the town slaughtering Jews, Christians and Moslems indiscriminately (for reasons I cannot divine). The carnage was terrible.

Four thousand men surrendered; Napoleon ordered helpless prisoners to be shot.

So: Should we remove David's painting from the National Gallery? Of course not. If we were to start removing all works that might possibly cause offense, we'll soon have nothing left but pretty florals and landscapes.

People understand -- at least, I hope they understand -- that a museum is not like a public park.

When you see that portrait of Napoleon, you should not walk away thinking: "Here is a great man, worthy of emulation." Some of you will walk away thinking "What an asshole." Indeed he was, but the painting has much more to say. I can only hope that you -- at least a few of you -- will walk away telling your companions: "Say what you will about David, that guy was one hell of a painter."

Context is all.

Museums can offer the right context for the works now being removed from our public spaces.

Preserve. Recontextualize.