Exhibit review | "Ground Zero 360"

“We all remember where we were when we heard about the attacks on September 11.”

That common refrain (which you’ll probably be hearing a lot more of, with the tenth anniversary approaching) was delivered twice one morning this week at the Field Museum: first by the institution’s President/CEO John McCarter, then by an alderman. The occasion was the Tuesday unveiling of "Ground Zero 360", a new exhibit documenting the immediate aftermath of the terrorist attacks in New York City, which opens to the public today.

This media preview was understandably unlike most, which typically don’t have quite so many introductory comments (not to mention attendance from public-sector workers and municipal and religious officials). Prior to the remarks came a most appropriate musical prelude: a bagpipe-and-drum rendition of “Amazing Grace” from a trio of musicians, who represented the Pipes & Drums Corps of both the Chicago Fire Department and Police Department.

Also in attendance were the couple who created the exhibit: Paul McCormack, who ten years ago was the commanding officer of NYPD’s 41st precinct, and Nicola McClean, a photojournalist who, like McCormack and the many other first responders, bravely headed into—not away from—the nexus of the devastation. (The toxic clouds of dust and smoke were so thick, she said Tuesday, that sometimes she couldn’t see her own hands.) The majority of the exhibit is comprised of McClean’s aching, ghostly photos. Most of them are conventionally sized, but there’s a striking exception: A lone panoramic spread, about 15-feet long, displayed on its own wall, depicting a 360-degree view from Ground Zero ten days after the towers fell.

The most affecting piece of "Ground Zero 360" is on the reverse side of the wall with the panoramic photo. There, curator Janet Hong displays reproductions of 150 of the “missing” posters that appeared in lower Manhattan after the attacks—keening prayers of hope in the face of hopelessness for the return of loved ones. The people pictured here represent myriad ages, races and professions. Their common bond was their identity as Americans, as New Yorkers and, fatefully, as workers on the higher floors of the Twin Towers. More than anything, this tribute to the dead beloveds drives home the tragedy of that day, even as it subtly affirms the promise of this country’s melting-pot dream for our humanity.

None of the exhibit—save perhaps for audio recordings of police officers from that morning, which are played in an area separate from the visuals—is inappropriate for children, though the experience is an incredibly somber one. You’re likely to feel a swirl of emotions (I got chills when I touched a piece of granite that plummeted from the North Tower), most obviously a good deal of sadness. Fittingly, the exhibit is laid out directly in front of the 1881 Maori meeting house from New Zealand; as CEO McCarter noted, the sacred space before that entryway was traditionally where “the living are made aware of their place” in the cycle of life and death.

 

"Ground Zero 360" runs through January 1, 2012.