Monday, January 29, 2007

Battle Fields Revisited: Vietnam War in Los Angeles

What a difference an extra memory card can make on the last day of a month-long stay in Vietnam! Touched by his multiple visits to the War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Min City, Portland artist Harrell Fletcher returned to the museum one last time in June of 2005. Thanks to his digital camera and a surprisingly lenient museum security, he was able to re-photograph all of the one hundred documentary photos of the main museum (two of Fletcher's images featured below), covering the devastation of a ten-year war, what the Vietnamese call the American War, along with more recent images of individuals affected by birth defects and war wounds. The result has been a number of exhibitions in galleries throughout America, including the current show entitled The American War at LAX Art on La Cienega, “re-presenting” the contents of the museum in Ho Chi Min City.

Confronted with flash glares, slanted camera angles and, what Fletcher calls, “ the oddly casual” quality of the photographs of photographs that have already been created and curated by other unnamed individuals, at first, one cannot help but question the artistic merit of Fletcher’s “re-presentation” as a work of art. Fortunately, however, once absorbed into the imagery, the question of artistic merit quickly dissipates. Thus the question becomes the work’s merit as an action. Standing before images of the utter cruelty and destruction of a war fueled here at home, one cannot help but agree that indeed the action is of merit. Perhaps, Chas Bowie of The Portland Mercury is right in simply stating that “it helps if you don’t take Fletcher as an artist.” However, at the risk of falling into a Duchampian discussion, I had to wonder whether Fletcher’s decision of "re-presentation" within a fine arts context best serves his purpose.

With all the critical praise that the exhibitions have received within the past few months, even I, as a skeptic, must agree that the gallery setting does in fact have its benefits. What I was personally most struck by was my own ability to examine. Images that would normally have me switching channels were suddenly objects demanding scrutiny. What is it that the artist has done? Why these captions? Why these photographs? Why this war? Programmed to dissect the contents of a gallery, I not only spent time with the images, but also caught details that would otherwise not have survived my general sense of panic. I found that the captions were familiar (“victim of Orange Bomb,” “her father was a soldier. She has many skin diseases.”), whereas the images were not. Looking around the gallery at other quietly observing viewers I knew that Fletcher’s "re-presentation" invites a particular kind of examination that allows for his project to function in the first place.

The examination that a gallery space promotes, however, is not only of the object, but of the artist’s intentions as well. The earlier question of “why this war?” arises once again. There is no doubt that Fletcher’s work is meant to function as a commentary on the war in Iraq. In his statement, he writes “I encourage everyone to do their own research and find out more about The American War in Vietnam and… the current situation in the Middle East.” However, while in the space, I could not help but fear that the kind of parallel Fletcher hopes and critics such as D.K. Row assume the American viewer will draw between the two wars, simply is not brought about by this form of “re-presentation.”

Most notable is the fact that the War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Min City was not created in order to draw parallels with the Iraq War. Furthermore, it does not anticipate the American mentality, as it was not established for an American audience. The collection of photographs in this museum, or at least what Fletcher has chosen to present in his exhibition, focuses largely on the effects of Agent Orange and Napalm, spraying of pesticides, and other methods of environmental destruction. In this sense, the horrifying images do not recall Iraq. They specifically recall Vietnam. In fact, when confronted with them, the American audience is somewhat relieved that Agent Orange is no longer utilized and that chemical warfare is perhaps something of the past. Unfortunately, Fletcher’s re-photographs, though powerful, in a sense, further remove us from Vietnam’s American War, placing it in the realm of ancient history, so distant and from a land so far away that only terrible digital reproductions can bring us somewhat closer to its reality. The truth is that the Vietnam War does not belong in the ancient past, and to treat it as such is a betrayal of Fletcher’s very purpose in bringing the exhibition to America.