Shock
& Awe Trilogy: New York City, Jerusalem, Baghdad
acrylic on wood and canvas, 4 ft x 24 ft, 2004 - 2005
Collection of The Agnes Etherington Art Centre, Kingston, Ontario, Canada (2008)
Images of the World Trade Centre - September 11th, a Jerusalem restarurant sucicide bombing, the bombardment of Baghdad during the Shock and Awe attack by the USA. |
Tobey
C. Anderson’s ‘New American Century’
September 11, 2001 engraved horrific images of jet
liners crashing into the twin towers of New York.
As the towers caught fire and collapsed, millions
of television viewers worldwide found it difficult
to believe their eyes and to understand what had
penetrated their psyches. In the aftermath, the
event took on Biblical proportions: it was as if
God’s chosen people suddenly found themselves
abandoned and turned out into an insecure, dark
world. In the confusion, it was as if the Tower
of Babel had collapsed and as if common sense and
a common language no longer prevailed. In the aftermath,
Americans called out in fear for revenge, and their
rage was pointed toward Iraq and Saddam Hussein
by a right-wing think tank called the Project for
the New American Century. The ‘Project’
(which had preceded 9/11) called for a peaceful,
free world led by the one superpower, the United
States. From the perspective of many outsiders,
however, the Project had more to do with imperialism,
world domination, and the securing of depleted oil
reserves. Unfortunately, once President Bush declared
his pre-emptive strike against terrorism to be a
‘crusade,’ Muslims and other ‘outsiders’
suspected that America’s intentions were other
than benign or innocent or just. Little did they
know that (as Ron Suskind in The One Percent Solution
has recently declared) reality had become merely
a matter of pragmatic convenience: the war on terror
gave the president and vice president "vast,
creative prerogatives": "to do what they
want, when they want to, for whatever reason they
decide" and to "create whatever reality
was convenient.”
(Michiko Kakutani, “Personality, Ideology
and Bush's Terror War,” The New York Times,
June 20 2006))
Against this kind of slippery and obscure background,
how does the visual artist picture such a war? Certainly,
embedded journalists accompanying allied soldiers
in Iraq and Afghanistan see what they are permitted
to see and tell what the military censors let through.
In World War I, artists as soldiers documented and
memorialized the Allied war effort: bleak landscapes,
mundane activities were recorded; heroic, monumental
portraits celebrated the courage and sacrifice of
the soldiers. (See Art and War: Canadian War Memorials)
In World War II, enlisted artists like Alex Colville
recorded the humdrum and less than heroic activities
of Canadian soldiers and caught something of the
strangely still moments within the war. Colville’s
painting, Bodies in a Grave, Belsen 1945, catches
or uncovers the grisly horror that was yet to be
named the holocaust. But it is Colville’s
painting itself, his stilled, carefully composed
moments in the war, that bring to mind a fundamental
cool-headed rationality that has little to do (and
yet, of course, all too much to do) with the organized
violence and destruction that is war. (See David
Burnett’s Colville.)
What
then of Tobey C. Anderson’s representation
of the Iraqi /Afghan war? Rather than being embedded,
Tobey is an outsider, a Vietnam War deserter
now looking on (offside) from Canadian sidelines.
Most of his images have been gathered from the
public domain—photographs from newspapers,
television and the Internet. Thus in Anderson’s
renderings, we are several removes away from
reality itself: there is the war; behind it are
the government officials; behind them, the lobbyists
and think tanks; in front are the TV cameras,
the digital cameras, and even the unauthorized
emailed telephone/camera photos belonging to
the soldiers themselves, then the contexts of
newspaper and television editorials; in the foreground
is the American audience, the Canadian audience,
the world audience—and finally the artist
himself making sense out of this many-layered
public domain.
From this cluttered backdrop, then, how does
Anderson realize his own point of view? He selects
‘iconic” images that imply the many
layered involvement of America in war. As an
unbeliever--some might say, apostate--who suffered
the lies of the Vietnam era, he would now peel
back the present layers of public deceit to expose
the “stark reality” underneath. Hence
the appropriateness of his scratchboard drawings:
here one does not encounter the grey smudging
or shadings laid on by pencil, charcoal or watercolour.
Instead the artist cuts, scrapes, scratches at
the black surface to uncover the hidden light
and bones. The black and white medium of the
scratchboard (with its potential for fine texture)
answers Bush’s crude black and white pronouncements,
Bush’s extravagant “patriotic dogma”,
his “axis of evil” implying a Manichaean
war of absolute good and evil, his faith that
a war against terror will lead to a final solution,
a “mission accomplished”. The unpleasant
‘noise’ of Tobey’s scratching
on the blackboard, then, is meant to jar us awake
to the falsity of the prevailing public message.
Of course, an art that merely questions and quarrels
can be accused of lacking a substance of its
own. The reactionary ironist or critic who merely
questions becomes part of the larger social problem--like
the so-called ‘liberal’ Democrats
who look so ineffectual against the fiercely
convinced Neo-Conservative Republicans. Tobey,
however, insists that the irony in his art is
not merely his own: it inheres in the contradictions,
the lies, the inconsistencies, and the obfuscation
of the Bush campaign against terrorism. His questioning,
then, is like that of the “investigative
journalist who uncovers truths we are not privy
to.” Thus to expose “advocates of
freedom torturing” is to say more than
enough. Again, irony inheres in the fact itself
of “Christian dogma that leads to crusades
and inquisitions.”
So against those sleepwalkers who would “wave
the flag, support their troops and memorialize
the dead,” Tobey would awaken us instead
“to look at dead terrorists, US troops
killed in action, and dead civilians on the same
playing field, so to speak.” This three
sided pantheon of the dead “requires some
sort of mind wrapping experience that points
to a more humanist view of the world …”
R.
D. MacDonald
St. Catharines
July 2006
(Quotations, ‘Tobey-speak,’ derived
from e-mail correspondence with R. D. MacDonald
- Jun 16/06)
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