Art against War and Art for Peace: Reflections on
the Exhibition ‘Caught in the Crossfire’
Dr Carol Rank
Senior Lecturer
Centre for Peace and Reconciliation Studies
Coventry University
Having been a member of the Herbert Gallery’s Collecting Cultures community
panel, I was involved in a behind the scenes look at the various artworks that were
acquired, discussing with Herbert staff and other members of the panel about what the
artwork conveyed and our reactions to it. I was also able to take along a couple students
on our MA in Peace and Reconciliation Studies course to see a preview exhibition of
some of the works. To highlight ways in which this new collection can contribute to an
understanding of conflict and peace, I will discuss three of the pieces in the collection
that I saw at that preview and also include the responses of some of our students to them.
In addition I will discuss some of the other themes represented in the exhibition.
The first piece I would like to note is Raymond Mason’s ‘Belsen Head’ (1945),
made in response to images released from concentration camps at the end of the Second
World War. My students and I were enthralled if somewhat horrified by the sculpture;
was this meant to be a skull? Were we looking at an emaciated and dying person or into
the eyes of death? We were told that this sculpture was very different from anything else
this artist created, so it must have sprung from deep revulsion and shock at the brutality
of the camps. To me it was one of the most powerful pieces in the exhibition.
The second piece that intrigued me was Matthew Picton’s ‘Dresden 1945’ (2010)
which uses burnt paper to create an aerial sculpture of the city as it appeared after being
devastated by Allied bombing. Our Centre for Peace and Reconciliation Studies at
Coventry University has worked with colleagues in Dresden to examine and discuss at
public events how the bombing of Dresden should be commemorated, and how doing so
in a particular way can counteract the rise of far right, neo-fascist groups who manipulate
that history for their own ends. Seeing the burned out husks of buildings in this sculpture
reminded me of the photos taken of Dresden after the bombing – and how today it is a
thriving and beautiful city once again; a testament to survival and renewal.
A third piece that I found particularly powerful was Ross Jones, ‘Exodus’ (2008).
On a largely blank white space, sits an abandoned African village - the title ‘Exodus’
referring to the people having fled due to violent conflict. I stood looking at this piece
with two of our MA students from the newest country in the world, South Sudan. They
examined it intently and then said ‘that could be our village.’ The line of huts in such an
open space shows the vulnerability of people to attack and the emptiness of the village
showed the after effects of upheaval and violence. The abandoned village brought to
mind the attacks on Darfur and the terror they unleashed.
Many of the pieces in the exhibition depict war – the home front, the frontlines of
war, weaponry – and some express the horrific experience of war, such as the two pieces
featuring Nick Ut’s 1972 photograph of Kim Phuc running away from her Vietnamese
village after a napalm attack. Kim Phuc, who survived that experience, is now a staunch
advocate for peace. Other images show the divisions that result from violent conflict,
such as the photograph of what many Palestinians call the ‘Apartheid Wall’ cutting
through Palestinian territory and ‘protecting’ illegal Jewish settlements. Also featured
are pieces expressing the aftermath of conflict, such as Jamal Penjweny’s ‘Iraq is Flying’
(2006-9) which show the physical destruction of war, yet within the ruins, children
playing music and jumping up, symbolic of an indomitable spirit for survival and joy.
The ‘artist as activist’ section is one that could easily be expanded as there is a
great deal of poster and other graphic arts from peace movement groups protesting war.
Banksy’s ‘CND’ graffiti depicting the nuclear disarmament symbol brings to my mind
the history of that symbol. Prof Andrew Rigby, the founding director of the Centre for
Peace and Reconciliation Studies, has written about how the drawing of the symbol was
created in the UK by Gerald Holtom for the first Aldermaston march against nuclear
weapons in 1958. The symbol incorporates the semaphore signals for ‘N’ (nuclear) and
‘D’ (disarmament). Gerald Holtom also noted that turned upside down, the image was of
upraised arms, which is the semaphore symbol for ‘U’ (unilateral disarmament) and that
it could then also represent the tree of life, a symbol of rebirth and regeneration. He was
told by some of his fellow protestors that it would never catch on, but it has gone around
the world and is still a popular symbol today.
All of the arts – painting, photography, film, music, poetry, drama, and more –
can be very effective in expressing the destructiveness of war and the desire for peace.
The power of the arts lies in their emotive nature; they can help us feel and understand
the need for peace on a deeper level than rational thought alone. Some great paintings of
the past have given us iconic imagery that expresses the horror and tragedy of war, such
as Picasso’s Guernica. Likewise, certain photographs taken during times of war express
the pathos and brutality of war. The arts can also be used to educate on issues of concern,
using political satire and imagery to raise awareness.
Perhaps an even greater challenge is to create art that expresses peace; there is a
dearth of ‘peace art’ and when I ask my students what images of ‘peace’ they have, they
draw hearts and flowers. With imagination and creativity we should be able to create
other images of peace as well. If we want peace, we need to envision it.