P:91 – from decomposition to anticipation to exultation, 2011

Found pine beam, reclaimed cedar, found bronze mail box door, israeli cypress, reclaimed concrete crag, 91 x 16 x 11 Inches,
In collaboration with Steff Rocknak

P:91 is a totem that I carved out of a decomposed building beam. I was influenced by Psalm 91's reflection on expectation, deliverance, and hope. One example of the motif in play was New York's recovery from the Great Depression and the Art Deco movement that coincided with this point in history.  From bottom to top this piece moves from decay to exaltation. The "anticipation" mailbox at the heart of the piece hides a plaque engraved with psalm # 91 (in Hebrew) .

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How often do we hope for a good omen, an important message, a letter which will change our lives? Today it is an email that heralds to us, much like the biblical angels: our application was approved, or that our love plea was accepted. Searching for the bearer of good tidings is a personal and universal aspiration from time immemorial. This piece is in part about that fundamental human yearning. But it is also about the resurrection of form and matter by a creator.

Genesis: On my first day in Purchase College, an interesting object caught my eye. I noticed a great beam lying in repose on a pile of debris near the construction site, awaiting its inevitable demise in the landfill.   What attracted me was its skin, a terrain sculptured years ago by a colony of termites. The insects consumed the lush and soft spring cells, leaving the hard and dark summer tissues intact.  

It did not take much time to see this beam’s potential. I decided to respect and harness the termite’s impressive work, while adding my own interpretation, an allegory on human aspiration: Our yearning for something to uplift us from the soil and install us in a higher, if not the highest shelter. Psalms No 40 addresses the essence of this yearning: “... He bent down towards me and heard my voice, and He brought me up from the roiling pit, from the thickest mire. And He set my feet upon a crag, made my steps firm.....”.

Deliverance, Providence, and Salvation – not necessarily in their religious meaning – are fundamental human aspirations. Most of us, when in trouble or in doubt, wish that via the magic of a miracle, by chance, or thorough sheer luck, things will change for the better. Some pray to a deity, while others put their trust in science, or in reason, or turn to friends and counselors. 
The biblical writers addressed these primordial questions, often answering them with a reassurance: just put your trust in God and all will be well. Modernity eroded the validity of this answer but the question is as relevant today as it was when it was asked by David, Asaph, or the anonymous writer of Psalm 91.

Many of us avoid poetry that belongs to the religious canon. But the literature created by the biblical writers is not unlike the religious figurative art made in the high-renaissance era. Yet we all tend to agree that these renaissance figures constitute some of the greatest works of art that humanity has ever produced. We also know that in order to enjoy a play or a movie, we have to willingly suspend our disbelief. Perhaps in order to fully appreciate the beauty of the Psalmodic epic, the non-religious modern – or post-modern reader – needs to willingly suspend his or her disbelief in God.

Design and construction: The overall shape and proportions of this totem were inspired by the architecture of the Empire State Building (ESB). The base, a broken piece of concrete from the pre-renovated Purchase Mall, was salvaged from the campus construction site. Had I not redeemed it, it would have been ground to dust and gravel. The mailbox door was found on the street near my old apartment in Cambridge Massachusetts. The most challenging part to design and build was the wings. They were carved by my friend Steff Rocknak, a brilliant wood sculptor and a Philosopher. We based the shape of the wings on the four wings that support the ESB’s mooring tower, which is eighteen stories high.

Epilogue: The heroic art deco era is filled with towering achievements: bigger than life structures, lofty and luminescent—an array of ‘Streamline’ designs that are reductive, yet figurative. The ESB’s designers envisioned a tower that allowed passengers to embark and disembark form a hovering Zeppelin. The tower’s massive wings acted as buttresses, built to provide structural and aesthetic support. These wings were both symbolic and practical, built in the early and exciting days of aviation. Had they actually been used as a docking port, ESB’s architects and engineers may have been credited with constructing one of the most fantastic scenarios to ever grace the New York City skyline. However, in the end, no air ships took on or deployed passengers from the ESB. 

Nevertheless, the attempt to dream and hope, the esthetics and the symbolic nature of the wings on the spire of the world‘s highest building, is truly remarkable. This is even more impressive if we realize that this building was built during the bleak years of the Depression. But sometimes, when in dire straights, societies (and individuals) can excel and ascend. Raising their hopes to the skies, they search for answers and deliverance in the Heavens and under the wings of angels. And sometimes, they may even address these questions (and self doubts) by propelling the process of creation with their own hands.

People have always aspired to reach to the the skies both metaphorically and physically. For this I believe that the fantastic story of the ESB embodies the essence of psalm 91..... it's creation is as relevant to the individual and to human society today as it was in the 30s’.