The Design of Loss Architectural Exhibit Based on Holocaust and Sept. 11, 2001 by Gary Tischler Memory, memorial and artóif you want to think deeply about those three concepts, head over to the Goethe-Institut and examine ìThe Art of Memory/The Memory of Art,î an exhibition of architectural designs that build on the theme of the Holocaust and Sept. 11, 2001. The two singular historic events donít naturally fit together except that a group of German architects and conceptual designersófor want of a better descriptionóparticipated and created designs for both a Holocaust memorial competition in 1995 in Germany and the more recent World Trade Center memorial design competition. The result does more than illustrate the powerful works of the featured designers: Horst Hoheisel, Andreas Knitz, Wolfgang Goschel and Joachim von Rosenberg. The four are all gifted artists and conceptual thinkers, but their work also offers a kind of run-up for anyone interested in designs and art intended to memorialize historic events. Sept. 11, 2001, has been and continues to be viewed as an epochal event, a line in timeís sand for the United States and a shock of epic proportions to the national psyche. T he theme of the exhibit is that the world changed after 9/11, and to a large extent, this of course is trueóin impact, if not the actual event. The idea of memorializing 9/11 has aspects that are suggestive of heroism and tragedy. It is about loss: loss of people, loss of images, loss of landmark, loss of innocence. Hoheisel in particular addresses both the Holocaust and 9/11 as aspects of loss, as absence, as remembering people and things that are no longer there. For the 9/11 design, he does this by creating a net of names or network of memory, which consists of hanging microphones and a list of the victimsí names that can be called out by passersby, with the sound resounding not at the ground level but up to the empty sky, perhaps into space. His partner Knitzís design envisions two fallen towers lying in the Hudson River. Goschel and von Rosenbergís designs are more elaborate spaces with mirrored rooms for the names of the victims in museums and exhibitions that would evoke the memory of those lost. Goschel and von Rosenberg use a similar approach in Berlin, designing a ìmirrored wallî at Hermann-Ehlers-Platz in Berlin Steglitz, an area from which the Nazis rounded up and deported Berlin Jews to the camps where they were lost. This memorial includes the names of all the Jews who were known to have lived in Berlin and were deported. Hoheisel instead takes on a kind of deconstructive and destructive approach to everything. The object of his design was Berlinís famous Brandenburg Gate, the imperial bulwark without which, for many residents and visitors alike, there would be no Berlin. Hoheiselís most shocking idea was to raze the Brandenburg Gate to the ground, crush it to bits and pieces, and make a memorial out of what was left. Barring the destruction or absence of the gate, he also had a design in which the infamous sign at the gateway to AuschwitzóìArbeit Macht Freiî or ìWork Sets You Freeîówould be superimposed on the Brandenburg Gate, in forever fashion. Hoheisel understood exactly what he was saying and doing. The Holocaust is too big to memorialize, he said. Nevertheless he tried, once again by addressing the issue of loss. Every World War II memorial and Holocaust memorial is about what happened, whom it happened to, and who did it. That a nation would address its own guilt in an unprecedented crime is almost as remarkable as the crime itself. The Nazis, with their stated aim of eradicating every Jew from Germany and Europe, made sure that those very Jews would always be present because of their absence. Memory is the tether to the historic Holocaust. Hoheisel addressed that issue squarely in the rather detailed resurrection of a fountain that was destroyed by the townís citizens during the Nazi era because it was built by a wealthy Jewish resident. Hoheisel designed a memorial to the fountain by redoing the original spire that was destroyed, but building it underground where it could not be seen. The memory or memorial was to its absence. He called it a ìsubterranean history of the city.î Hoheiselís design calling for the destruction of the Brandenburg Gate was undoable, of course. The artist said it was impossible to make ìone memorialî to such an event to which there is no parallel. ìThere is no final solution to the problem of a Holocaust memorial,î he said. What goes on for 1,000 years is the memory of what happened and that, Hoheisel has suggested, must be addressed again and again, not just in one memorial. Itís not about memory, but counter-memory. And to do this, he creates empty spaces for a geography emptied of a whole group of people. ìThe Art of Memory/The Memory of Artî runs through May 20 at the Goethe-Institut, 812 7th St., NW. For more information, please call (202) 289-1200 or visit www.goethe.de/ins/us/was. Gary Tischler is a contributing writer for The Washington Diplomat.