pal'imp-sest
n† [Gr. palimpsestos, rubbed again; palin. again, and psen, to rub.] A
parchment from which one writing has been erased, and on which another
has been written.
Prior to last year, the mental images most Westerners conjured of Afghanistan
were either that of ancient camel caravans transporting silk from the
Han Dynasty in China to the markets of Imperial Rome, or perhaps the 1979
Soviet incursion and the displacement of millions. One year ago, the sentiment
on many Americans minds was to bomb them back to the Stone
Age. A sentiment which could not be more ironic, given the fact
that the Soviets had already leveled much of the countrys infrastructure.
Until 9-11 America had no strategic interests in this seemingly barren
land, and therefore, little understanding of the various cultures that
have inhabited it. However the tragic events of last fall forever shattered
this isolation and have re-focused international attention on this forgotten
corner of the globe.
This exhibition marks the one-year anniversary of the September 11th terrorist
attacks and the subsequent United States War on Terror. "Afghanistan:
Palimpsest" is intended to provide viewers an opportunity to reflect
on these cataclysmic events and more specifically on the plight of the
Afghani people caught in the middle of this international struggle. Despite
intense journalistic coverage of ongoing events in that region, we are
still largely uninformed about the people and the land of Afghanistan.
Long after our collective attention has shifted to other issues and countries,
the Afghani people will be left to rebuild a country in ruins from generations
of war. While not intended as a critique of any national or international
policies, this exhibition seeks to create a forum for the consideration
and discussion of the future within this troubled region. Simon Norfolk's
stark photographs depicting the landscape of contemporary war-ravaged
Afghanistan provide a glimpse into the destruction while offering emblems
of hope. The balloon salesman in front of a former teahouse, for example,
stands as a beacon for the aspirations of the Afghani people to return
to a time when balloons were not outlawed by the Taliban.
The textiles in this exhibition are from the collection of Clay Stewart
and represent traditional woven arts produced by the nomadic Baluchi tribespeople
of Afghanistan. It is obvious in the pairing that the Baluchi weavers
incorporate the colors and patterns of their landscape and history into
the fabrics that surround them. The juxtaposition of these antique textiles
with contemporary depictions of the Afghani landscape seeks to draw parallels
between the enduring spirit of the Baluchi peoples --an historically nomadic
tribe-- and the perpetual refugee status of most people claiming this
country as home. Just as the weavings of the Baluchi were constructed
to withstand the abrasive desert environs, so too have the Afghan people
sought to protect themselves from the devastating effects of constant
armed conflicts.
Norfolk's photographs reinforce the theme of palimpsest. Many of the images
capture the aftermath and detritus of generations of political strife
in Afghanistan as well as subtle evidence of reclamation. The future of
the region will depend in large measure on a deeper understanding in the
West of the struggles, hopes, and dreams of these people half a world
away. A re-writing of Afghanistans destiny is underway, while the
fragments of an elapsed culture still shine through.
Co Curators
Mark Sloan and Buff Ross
|