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 American’s 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 country’s 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 Afghanistan’s destiny is underway, while the fragments of an elapsed culture still shine through.

Co Curators
Mark Sloan and Buff Ross