"THE EFFECTIVENESS OF COMMEMORATIVE MUSEUMS IN EVOKING A

REACTION TO A TRAUMATIC EPISODE IN A NATION'S HISTORY"

XAVIER GEOFFREY PRATT

BACHELOR OF INTERIOR ARCHITECTURE (HONS)

FINAL YEAR DISSERTATION

UNSW BUILT ENVIRONMENT

UNSW AUSTRALIA

2016

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z3461632 Pratt Xavier

INTA2411 Dissertation

Session 1 2016 Dissertation

Judith O'Callaghan

ABSTRACT

This dissertation has the aim of examining the effectiveness of commemorative

museums in evoking a reaction to a traumatic episode in a nation's history. Utilising

secondary source material, this idea is achieved through three chapters: the first

presents the history of the museum typology, and an introduction to architect

who have built in this typology; the second presents the first contemporary case

study for the dissertation, examining Daniel Libeskind's Jewish Museum in Berlin;

finally, the third chapter examines Michael Arad and J. Max Bond Jr.'s National

September Eleven Memorial and Museum in New York.

Through the study of two contemporary case studies, it can be said that the

commemorative museum typology is effective in evoking a reaction to a past

traumatic history. With this understanding, society is able to discuss how to move

forward in the wake of a tragedy, allowing for the development of a community

or nation.

3

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Firstly, I would like to thank my supervisor, Judith O'Callaghan, for her wonderful

and amazing guidance throughout the writing of this dissertation. Without her

feedback and insight, the dissertation would be inconsistent and rather incomplete.

I would like to thank my partner, Isabella Garcia-Lamerton, for joining me on

library adventures for source material, reading over my writing for grammatical and

syntax errors, and maintaining my focus during the busy times of the graduation

year.

I would also like to thank my parents, Sara and Roger Pratt, for editing the finished

product, ensuring that no errors were missed.

I would like to thank Matthew Meakes and Josh Muncke for retaining my sanity

and insisting that I take breaks from writing and get exercise.

Finally, I would like to thank the staff at the UNSW library for their assistance in

locating source material.

4

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Figure one: The cabinets of curiosities: the Metallotheca of Michele Mercati in

the Vatican, 1719. (Source: T. Bennett, The birth of the museum: history, theory,

politics, p. 60)

Figure two: The British Museum: Quadrangle Building. Sir Robert Smirke, 1852.

(Source: The British Museum, Architecture, accessed 11 June 2016, <http://www.

britishmuseum.org/about_us/the_museums_story/architecture.aspx>)

Figure three: Interior of South Court, The South Kensington Museum (later

Victoria and Albert Museum). Francis Fowke, 1862. Drawing: John Watkins, c.

1876. (Source: T. Bennett, The birth of the museum: history, theory, politics, p.

71)

Figure four: The Great Exhibition 1851, Crystal Palace, The Western, or British

Nave, looking east. Joseph Paxton, 1851. (Source: T Bennett, The birth of the

museum: history, theory, politics, p. 62)

Figure five: Military History Museum, exterior. Daniel Libeskind, 2011. (Source:

Studio Libeskind 2016, Military history museum, accessed 17 April 2016, <http://

libeskind.com/work/military-history-museum/>)

Figure six: Exterior, Jewish Museum Berlin. Daniel Libeskind 2000 (opened).

(Source: Studio Libeskind 2016, Jewish Museum Berlin, accessed 12 June 2016,

5

6

<http://libeskind.com/work/jewish-museum-berlin/>)

Figure seven: Menashe Kadishman's "Shalekhet (Fallen Leaves)" in the Memory

Void, Jewish Museum Berlin. Daniel Libeskind 2000 (opened). Photo: Torsten

Seidel. (Source: Studio Libeskind 2016, Jewish Museum Berlin, accessed 12

June 2016, <http://libeskind.com/work/jewish-museum-berlin/>)

Figure eight: Garden of Exile, Jewish Museum Berlin. Daniel Libeskind 2000

(opened). Photo: BitterBredt. (Source: Studio Libeskind 2016, Jewish Museum

Berlin, accessed 12 June 2016, <http://libeskind.com/work/jewish-museum-

berlin/>)

Figure nine: Holocaust Tower, Jewish Museum Berlin. Daniel Libeskind 2000

(opened). Photo: BitterBredt. (Source: Studio Libeskind 2016, Jewish Museum

Berlin, accessed 12 June 2016, <http://libeskind.com/work/jewish-museum-

berlin/>)

Figure ten: Thiepval Memorial to the Missing, viewed from the western side,

with French graves of the Anglo-French cemetary in the front. Sir Edwin Lutyen,

1932. (Source: Greatwar.co.uk 2016, Thiepval Memorial to the Missing, Somme

Battlefields, France, accessed 13 June 2016, <http://www.greatwar.co.uk/

somme/memorial-thiepval.htm>)

Figure eleven: Southern pool of the 9/11 memorial at night. Michael Arad and

Peter Walker 2011. Photo: Jin Lee. (Source: National September 11 Memorial

and Museum 2016, The Lens: Capturing Life and Events at the 9/11 Memorial

and Museum, accessed 13 June 2016, <http://www.911memorial.org/blog/lens-

capturing-life-and-events-911-memorial-and-museum-6>)

Figure twelve: Names at the National September Eleven Memorial. Michael Arad

and Peter Walker 2011. (Source: L. McCrary 2011, 9/11 Postmodern Memorial

Failure?, The American Conservative, accessed 13 June 2016, <http://www.

theamericanconservative.com/2011/11/16/911-postmodern-memorial-failure/>)

Figure thirteen: Snhetta's entry pavilion, steel tridents visible in entry, Snhetta

2014. Photo: Jeff Goldberg/Esto. (Source: Snhetta 2016, National September

11 Memorial Museum Pavilionm, accessed 13 June 2016, <http://snohetta.com/

project/19-national-september-11-memorial-museum-pavilion#>)

Figure fourteen: The "Last Column" stands in front of the Slurry Wall in the

Foundation Hall, Davis Brody Bond 2014. Photo: Jin Lee. (Source: M. Sturken

2015, The 9/11 Memorial Museum and the Remaking of Ground Zero, p. 472)

Figure fifteen: Brick taken from the compound where Osama Bin Laden was found

in Pakistan. Davis Brody Bond 2014. Photo: Marita Sturken. (Source: M. Sturken

2015, The 9/11 Memorial Museum and the Remaking of Ground Zero, p. 473)

Figure sixteen: "The Composite", National September Eleven Museum. Davis

Brody Bond 2014. Photo: Jin Lee. (Source: 9/11 Memorial Museum and BD+C

staff, First look: 9/11 Memorial Museum opens to first-responders, survivors, 9/11

7

families, accessed 13 June 2016, < http://www.bdcnetwork.com/first-look-911-

memorial-museum-opens-first-responders-survivors-911-families-slideshow>)

8

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction 10

Chapter One 15

A History of Museums 16

Daniel Libeskind 19

Michael Arad 22

J. Max Bond Jr. 23

Chapter Two 26

Chapter Three 37

Conclusion 48

Bibliography 53

Appendices 60

Appendix One: Illustrations 61

9

10

Commemorative museums are described by James Young in 1997 as "counter-

monuments: brazen, painfully self-conscious memorial spaces conceived to

challenge the very premises of their being" (Young 1997, 858). These spaces

challenge the way in which societies view past events and tragedies. The

artists and architects responsible for the design of commemorative museums

believe that conventional memorials seal off the memory of an event, rather than

embodying the memory for the public to engage with (Young 1997, 858). These

new spaces aim to "redeem this past with an instrumentalisation of its memory"

(Young 1997, 857), providing a physical element in which society can interact

with. Commemorative museums, like other cultural institutions, have undergone

radical transformations during the twentieth century (Young 1997, 855). The aim

of this dissertation is to analyse the effectiveness of the commemorative museum

type in evoking a reaction to the atrocities of a nation's past. This idea will be

investigated in two ways: through a historical analysis of museums, how they

diverged into specialty museums, with a focus on the integration of museums into

commemorating a tragedy in a societies past; secondly through two contemporary

case studies, using physical analysis, studying the effect these commemorative

museums have in evoking a reaction a past trauma.

Chapter one provides an introduction into the main argument of this dissertation,

introducing the notion of museums in general. It commences with a presentation

of the 'cabinets des curieux', the very private first example of a museum space.

It will then discuss how the public was introduced into the museum complex,

explaining the emergence of the first public museums. The chapter will then

explain how "museums are no longer built in the image of that nationalistic temple

11

of culture, the British Museum" (Hooper-Greenhill 1992, p. 1), but instead are

designed around a variety of items and cultural artefacts. For example, museums

can idealise "farms, boats, coal mines, warehouses, prisons, castles or cottages"

(Hooper-Greenhill 1992, p. 1). It is this idea that led to the development of the

commemorative museum, and how this is now commonly featured around the

world. The chapter will also introduce Daniel Libeskind, the Polish born, American

trained architect who designed the substantial Jewish Museum in Berlin. This

introduction will provide an insight into Libeskind's works, both architectural and

theoretical. The chapter will then introduce Michael Arad, the Israeli-American

architect responsible for the National September Eleven Memorial in New York,

titled Reflecting Absence. This introduction will provide a brief commentary into

the works of Arad, and how the unknown architect moved from the New York

Housing Authority to designing the influential memorial. Finally, the chapter

concludes with an introduction of James Max Bond Jr. of Davis Brody Bond, who

is responsible for the design of the National September Eleven Museum. This

chapter aims to provide an understanding of how commemorative museums can

aid in evoking a reaction to the past through a study of the type, and a study of

two architects who can be seen to define the commemorative museum typology.

Chapter two aims to provide an in-depth analysis of Daniel Libeskind's Jewish

Museum in Berlin. It begins with an analysis and commentary into the brief set by

the West Berlin Senate in 1988, and how it led to the development of Libeskind's

proposal. It then will provide a description of the planning Libeskind employed for

the space. A description of the exterior of the building follows, with discussion of

the redesigned entry visitors use in moving into the building. The chapter then

12

provides an analysis of the interior of the building, specifically the use of voids to

frame the space and their power; the 'Garden of Exile'; and the 'Holocaust Tower'.

The chapter ends with an analysis into how effective Daniel Libeskind's Jewish

Museum is in evoking a reaction to the Holocaust. This chapter aims to provide a

contemporary example of the commemorative museum type, examining how the

space is able to influence the thinking of visitors, and how this type of museum

leads to the discussion of how to rectify the event.

Chapter three provides another contemporary case study of the commemorative

museum, utilising it to establish whether the typology is effective in evoking a

reaction to a tragic episode in a nations past. This chapter studies the National

September Eleven Memorial and Museum by Michael Arad and James Max

Bond Jr. The chapter commences with a presentation of the brief, examining

how amongst 5201 entries into the competition hosted by the Lower Manhattan

Development Corporation in 2003. The competition asked for a memorial to

remember and honour those killed in the September-Eleven attacks, and also

those who aided the rescue of survivors. The competition was open to anyone, and

entries were submitted by "professional architects, designers, and artists, as well

as inspired amateurs like Dr. Robert Jarvik, the artificial-heart inventor" (Hagan

2006, p. 20). The chapter then discusses the planning of the memorial, moving

into the use of twin voids and how the names were to be arranged around them. It

then describes the entry pavilion designed by Snhetta, and how it facilitates the

movement between the memorial and the museum. The chapter then describes

the design of Bond's museum space, examining the artefacts found in the space.

Finally, the chapter discusses how the National September Eleven Memorial

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and Museum can evoke a reaction to the September Eleven tragedy. The chapter

aims to provide another contemporary example of the commemorative museum

type, and establish whether the new typology is able to evoke reactions to a past

event in history.

14

15

Over the centuries, the museum as a typology has developed to reflect the

present time in which it is designed. Today, museums and there collections are

considered "a valuable and irreplaceable community service and have immense

educational value" (Hooper-Greenhill 1992, p. 2). They can teach contemporary

society how prior civilisations adapted to the changing environments, how

technology has developed over time, or how the minds of great artists have been

represented throughout the ages. In this chapter, the history of the museum

type will be discussed, providing a commentary on the 'cabinets des curieux'

of the sixteenth century; the emergence of the public museum; and finally the

development of a new museum type, the commemorative museum. This chapter

also introduces Daniel Libeskind, the Polish-born, American trained architect,

providing an overview of his life, his built works and finally his theoretical studies.

Furthermore, this chapter introduces architects Michael Arad and James Max

Bond, Jr. providing a history of their careers. This chapter aims to provide a brief

history to the museum typology, and an introduction to two key architects who are

at the forefront of the commemorative museum type.

A HISTORY OF MUSEUMS

The notion of a museum has been around for centuries, however its intended

audience has changed drastically overtime. The idea commenced in the form of

"cabinets des curieux" (see figure one): rooms or spaces for the rich aristocrats to

view "collections of natural history items" (Cesare 2014, p. 86), with these spaces

becoming prevalent in the sixteenth century. Contemporary museums owe their

development to the cabinet of curiosity, as the "intense interest in taxonomy,

16

classification and symbolism" (Cesare 2014, p. 86) stemmed from these spaces.

These cabinets or collections "had trends, they were not just isolated collections"

(Cesare 2014, p. 91); some focused on a study of the natural world, other collections

exemplified art from their time period. However, whilst each individuals cabinet

varied in regards to content, "the desire to record, copy and archive" (Cesare

2014, p. 92) are shared amongst them. Each example shared two principles:

"private ownership and that of restricted access" (Bennett 2013, p. 73). These

cabinets and rooms were to be observed only by the privileged, whether solely for

the collector themselves, or at private events and functions. Viewers could gain

an insight into the curiosities of its creator through examining the collections; for

example Thomas Jefferson's cabinet in the entrance hall at Monticello "included

fine art, natural wonders, ethnological artefacts, and marvellous curios of human

contrivance" (Robinson 1995, p. 41 cited in Cesare 2014, p. 92).

The nineteenth century saw the emergence of public historical and art collections.

"Museums may have enclosed objects within walls, but the nineteenth century

saw their doors opened to the general public" (Bennett 2013, p. 59). The British

Museum (see figure two), opened in 1759, is acknowledged to be one of the

first public museums, however its notion of 'public' is limited. "Visitors were

admitted only in groups of fifteen and were obliged to submit their credentials

for inspection prior to admission which was granted only if they were found to be

'not exceptionable'" (Wittlin 1949, p. 113 cited in Bennett 2013, p. 70). The South

Kensington Museum1 (see figure three) "was officially dedicated to the service

of an extended and undifferentiated public with opening hours and an admission

1. The South Kensington Museum, opened in 1857, is now known as the Victoria and Albert Museum, after changing it's name in 1899.

17

s policy designed to maximise its accessibility to the working classes" (Bennett

2013, p. 70). As a result of this, the 'British Museum Complex' was developed by

passing the Museum Bill of 1845, whereby local authorities were empowered to

establish museums and art galleries, with a public focus (Bennett 2013, p. 72).

At the same time, Britain, France and Germany underwent a "spate of state-

sponsored architectural competitions for the design of museums'" enabling the

museums to "function as organs of public instruction" (Selling 1967 cited in

Bennett 2013, p. 70). The Great Exhibition of 18512 in Joseph Paxton's Crystal

Palace (see figure four) saw this notion of public explored further. The design

allowed for a multitude of eyes to affix to glamorous commodities, with its design

intent ensuring that "everyone could see" (Davison 1982/83, p. 7 cited in Bennett

2013, p. 65). It combined the notion of "spectacle and surveillance" (Bennett

2013, p. 65), allowing everyone to see the exhibits presented, as well as view

other visitors from the vantage points scattered throughout the space. Museums

moved to become public-orientated spaces at the turn of the nineteenth century,

allowing for a wider population of the world to view the various displays once

privately examined.

The development of the museum type during the 20th century unearthed a new

area of museums. The focus on the public retained its importance, however,

the image and the content has moved away from the "image of that nationalistic

temple of culture, the British Museum" (Hooper-Greenhill 1992, p. 1). Instead, it

has been replaced by an idealisation of "farms, boats, coal mines, warehouses,

2. Whilst the Great Exhibition of 1851 cannot be considered a 'museum', rather an exhibition, it successfully presented the world to the people of London, examining how different civilisations lived in the world, and how they technology was used to advance their lives, or how art reflected their culture.

18

prisons, castles, or cottages" (Hooper-Greenhill 1992, p. 1). From this, the idea to

acknowledge cultures as a whole instead of in a particular time period, led to the

ability to commemorate a culture. This in turn, established the commemorative

museum type. These spaces provide a "dictionary of people and places" (Poulot

2013, p. 29), and aim to "produce either an overall study dedicated to its architecture

or to the history of growth of its collections" (Poulot 2013, p. 29). James Young

defines this new type of museum as "counter-monuments: brazen, painfully

self-conscious memorial spaces conceived to challenge the very premises of

their being" (1997, p. 858). These spaces dedicate themselves to "historical

criminality" (Poulot 2013, p. 34), providing a means in which visitors can engage

in a past event. They "locate national objects in an explicit parallel with those of

the other - the enemy or the ally" (Poulot 2013, p. 34), providing a contrast in how

events are perceived. These museums utilise their architecture to convey the

emotions and ideas surrounding their chosen events and topics. "Certain visual

forms and spaces within the museums evoke a sense of the sacred..., while

at the same time referring to the irrevocable loss and absence at the centre of

... remembrance" (Hansen-Glucklich 2010, p. 210). The museum typology has

evolved over the centuries through private and public avenues, resulting in the

commemorative museum type. As such, the following sections of this chapter

introduce the architects of the most significant examples of this new typology.

DANIEL LIBESKIND

Daniel Libeskind is a Polish born, American trained architect who designed one

19

of the most important and significant examples of the commemorative museum

type. Born in 1946 "in the ashes of the Holocaust" (Bloom & Hamann 2000, p.

9), Libeskind moved to Israel and then to the United States, studying music

whilst young. He graduated from the Cooper Union in New York in 1970 with a

Bachelors degree in Architecture, whereby he completed a post-graduate degree

in 'History and Theory of Architecture at the School of Comparative Studies at

Essex University in 1972" (Bloom & Hamann 2000, p. 9). As a result of winning

the competition for the extension to the Berlin Museum in 1989, Libeskind

opened his own practice in Berlin in 1990 (Bloom & Hamann 2000, p. 9). His

practice, as a result of winning the master plan for the National September Eleven

Memorial moved to New York. The practice's architecture ranges from "building

major cultural institutions including museums and concert halls, landscape and

urban projects, to stage design, installations and exhibitions" (Bloom & Hamann

2000, p. 9). Libeskind understands the potential for history development through

architecture, stating that "one can put a book away ... but a building and the city

are always present across time, across history" (1995, p. 41 cited in Light 2000,

p. 18). His buildings, as a result, are designed to last the test of time, refusing

to "be swept up in commodity fetishism" (Coragan 2000, p. 11-12). Libeskind's

renowned and iconic architecture is a result of extensive training and cultural

exposure, producing built works that consider both the past and present society

in which it is being constructed.

Libeskind is widely known and recognised for his developments in the museum

typology, creating architecture that is emotively powerful. His architecture

"functions like a narrative or text to be read" (Light 2000, p. 17). His works all

20

share a common interest in meaning: "signs and symbols; with literary, musical

and textual references. Voids, dynamic architectural forms, orientations,

precisely chosen materials, colour, light" (Light 2000, p. 17). For example, the

Military History Museum in Dresden, Germany (see figure five) was completed

in 2011 and features a distinct interruption of the original buildings classical

symmetry. A "five story 14 500 ton wedge of glass, concrete, and steel cuts into

and through the former arsenal's classical order" (Studio Libeskind 2016). The

original, columned part of the building, presents Germany's military history in a

horizontal and chronological order. This new addition, cuts the history between

1915-1945, providing new exhibition spaces which "focus on the societal forces

and human impulses that give birth to war and violence" (Studio Libeskind 2016).

A viewing platform in the wedge provides views of modern Dresden, "pointing

towards the triangulation of the area where the fire bombing began in Dresden,

creating space for reflection" (Studio Libeskind 2016). Libeskind does not design

"Architecture for Architecture's sake" (Coragan 2000, p. 12). His architecture

requires an engagement from the viewer and that the "viewer be buffeted by it and

challenged' (Coragan 2000, p. 12). Libeskind, through his works, uses emotive

power to generate interiors and buildings that have developed the museum type

into spaces that are commemorative and provide commentary into events in

societies past.

In unison with Libeskind's built works, his theoretical works provide an insight

into his thought and design processes. Libeskind was head of the Department of

Architecture at the Cranbrook School of Art and Design from 1978-85, "enshewing

the traditional route into architectural practice" (Bloom & Hamann 2000, p. 9).

21

Architecture, as stated by Libeskind, can be reduced to parts of speech or organs

of the body "once joined by two lines and a semi-circle" (1991 cited in Libeskind

1991, p. 9). His passion for drawing is apparent in the develop of his architectural

language, as without constant re-iterating a scheme, the idea for forms like the

Jewish Museum in Berlin would not have occurred. "Architectural drawings have

in modern times assumed the identity of signs; they have become fixed and

silent accomplices in the overwhelming endeavour of building and construction"

(Libeskind 1979 cited in Libeskind 1991, p. 14). He states that drawings can embody

more emotion and power in some instances, than "in stabilised frameworks of

objectifiable date" (Libeskind 1979 cited in Libeskind 1991, p. 14), in other words

in built forms. His interests lie in the "profound relation which exists between the

intuition of geometric structure as it manifests itself in a pre-objective sphere

of experience and the possibility of formalisation" (Libeskind 1979 in Libeskind

1991, p. 14-15).

MICHAEL ARAD

Michael Arad, the Israeli-American architect, is one of the architects responsible

for the culturally significant National September Eleven Memorial. Born in London

in 1969, Arad moved around the globe, living in Jerusalem for nine years before

moving to Mexico City. His father, Moshe Arad, was a Romanian-born diplomat,

who emigrated to Israel in 1950, becoming the Israeli ambassador to Mexico City

from 1983 to 1987.He then took the family to America, whereby he became the

Israeli ambassador between 1987 to 1990 (Filler 2013, pp. 265-266). Michael

Arad, as a result, attended high school in Mexico City, and then attended

22

Dartmouth to receive a BA, completing it in 1994 after taking three years to serve

his required time in the Israeli commandos (Filler 2013, p. 266). After graduating

from Masters of Architecture in 1999 at Georgia Tech, Arad began working for

Kohn Pederson Fox, and spent a year "designing the top twenty floors of a Hong

Kong skyscraper" (Hagan 2006, p. 25). However, after spending three years at

the firm, he resigned, taking a design position in the "New York Housing Authority,

where he worked on neighbourhood police stations" (Filler 2013, p. 266). It

was whilst working at the Authority that he designed the proposal for the 9/11

memorial titled Reflecting Absence. At the request of the panel, it was suggested

that he join a practice where he could rely on its resources. As a result, Arad

joined Handel Architects in 2004 as a partner, where he "worked on realising the

Memorial design as a member of the firm" (Handel Architects 2016). Whilst Arad

has had limited experience in designing commemorative museums, his one built

example to date provides an insight into the power that these spaces can provide.

The collaboration with Davis Brody Bond, specifically J. Max Bond Jr., aided Arad

in creating a significant site to commemorate the September Eleven attacks.

J. MAX BOND JR.

James Max Bond Jr. was one of America's most prominent African-American

architects. It was whilst living in Tuskegee, Alabama when Bond's interest in

architecture became apparent. His interest in "the school dormitories and airplane

hanger" (Briggs 2004, p. 44) led to his studies at Harvard at the age of 16. He

graduated in 1955 with honours, choosing to study a masters in architecture at

Harvard, completing this three years later in 1958. Upon graduating, Bond

23

experienced the racial hardship of the 1950s and 60s, whereby "firms would be

excited over Bond's resume and credentials, then openings would not be available

when they met him" (Briggs 2004, p. 44). As a result, Bond applied for a Fulbright

scholarship, moving to France and spent a year working with famous architect

Le Corbusier. Upon returning to the United States, Bond worked at a couple of

firms in New York before moving with his family in 1964 to Ghana, "working for

the Ghana National Construction Corp" (Briggs 2004, p. 44). Bond suggests that

whilst living in Ghana, his understanding of cultural issues increased, leading to

more considered design schemes: "You could see the modern culture, the villages

and a country that was not poor, but still it didn't have the wealth of the United

States. Living in Ghana made me think about cultural issues" (Briggs 2004, p. 44).

When he returned to America again, he collaborated with Don Ryder, another

African-American architect "to form what would become one of the largest and

most successful Black firms in the country" (Briggs 2004, p. 44). However, in

1990, Bond's partner left the firm, motivating him to merge with Davis, Brody

and Associates, forming the current Davis Brody Bond. Whilst at the firm, Bond

proposed the selected interior for the 9/11 memorial, working with Michael Arad

to provide a commemoration to the tragedy of the September-Eleven attacks.

As a result of the publics involvement with the museum typology, the interaction and

the value of the museum has changed. The cabinets of curiosity of the sixteenth

century provided a private and exclusive space in which to interact with all types

of commodities: art, ethnographic and natural displays in decadent cabinets or

dedicated rooms. The emergence of public museums in the nineteenth century

included the British and South Kensington (later Victoria and Albert) museums,

24

allowing the greater public to interact with world wide artifacts. The development

of the commemorative museum type was associated with the expression of a

tragic event, as it allowed the notion of absence to be expressed architecturally.

This chapter introduced Daniel Libeskind, Michael Arad and James Max Bond

Jr., providing a biography into their lives and past works.

25

26

James Young in 1997 observes that there is a possibility that "art might redeem

mass murder with beauty (or with ugliness) or that memorials might somehow

redeem this past with an instrumentalisation of its memory" (p. 857 in Ball 2008, p.

73). Commemorative museums, as such, attempt to evoke a reaction to the past.

Typically, museums utilise their collected artefacts to display a culture; however,

how can a culture that has little remaining artefacts be displayed to the public?

Daniel Libeskind's Jewish Museum in Berlin achieves this difficulty: it displays

the Jewish culture through a physical representation of the absence of remaining

cultural artefacts as a result of the Shoah 1. At the time of opening in 2000, "the

exact nature and content of a museum collection was unresolved" (Bates 2000,

p. 36) and that there has been propositions that the "museum should never have

a collection on exhibit" (Bates 2000, p. 36). This chapter of the dissertation will

commence with a presentation of the brief proposed by the West Berlin Senate.

It will then present the planning of the building and a description of the design of

the exterior. The chapter will then move into analysing the interior of the Museum,

focusing on the entry, the use of voids, the 'Garden of Exile' and the 'Holocaust

Tower'. The chapter concludes with an evaluation into the effectiveness this

commemorative museum has in evoking a reaction to a traumatic history.

Held in 1987, the international competition for a new annex to the Berlin Museum

was won in 1988 by Daniel Libeskind, with his entry "Between the Lines". The

competition held by the West Berlin Senate in 1987 requested that a new wing

to the Berlin Museum was to be designed, devoting itself to the presentation of

1. The biblical word 'Shoah', originally used in the Middle Ages as the Hebrew word for 'destruc-tion', became the word used to describe the murder of European Jews since 1940

27

"Jewish history as an integral part of the city's history" (Schneider 1999, p.

19), in a site that "displayed a chronological ordering of the social, cultural

and artistic history of Berlin" (Bates 2000, p. 33). The new wing was to exhibit

the history of Berlin after 1879 (Bates 2000, p. 33), providing a "more visible

presence for the small collection of Jewish artefacts" (Bates 2000, p. 33). The

location of the Jewish Museum marks a special point on the Berlin map: it lies

at the "intersection of Markgrafenstrasse and Lindenstrasse lies on the edge of

Friedrichstadt, the district by which the city was expanded to the west in the

late Baroque period" (Schneider 1999, p. 17). The architectural brief was full of

contradictions (Bates 2000, p. 34), requiring an equal prominence of the separate

Jewish histories of Berlin and to also "tell the story of assimilation and profound

influence" (Bates 2000, p. 34). However, Libeskind saw that there was a demand

for an 'architecturalisation' of Jewish history: a "spatial ordering that allowed for

overlaps, for inversions, for simultaneous moments and events" (Bates 2000, p.

34). This brief allowed Libeskind to build a dynamic Jewish museum in Berlin,

filling the gaps and traces created by the Shoah (Libeskind 1999, p. 13). The brief

for the new annex to the Berlin Museum was complicated, however it allowed for

a powerful architectural answer.

As a result of the complexity of the brief and the subject matter, Libeskind's

"Between the Lines" proposal and design encompasses numerous facets.

Libeskind describes the design in a four fold structure: "the first aspect is the

invisible and irrationally connected star which shines with absent light of individual

address" (Libeskind 1991, p. 86). The plan is an abstracted Star of David, or the

yellow star that Jewish people wore on their chests during World War II. Libeskind

28

found connections between "figures of Germans and Jews: between the particular

history of Berlin, and between the Jewish history of Germany and of Berlin"

(Libeskind 1991, p. 27 cited in Bates 2000, p. 35). He found that "the physical

trace of Berlin was not the only trace, but rather that there was an invisible matric

or anamnesis of related connections. I felt that certain people and particularly

certain writers, composers, artists and poets formed the link between Jewish

Tradition and German Culture" (Libeskind 1996, p. 40 in Mitsogianni 2000, p.

29). Libeskind calls the design "Between the Lines" "because it is a project

about two lines of thinking, organisation and relationship" (Libeskind 1991, p.

86), lines that develop architecturally through a limited dialogue, yet disengage

and are separate. The second element is the cut of Arnold Schoenberg's 1954

play Moses and Aaron, "which has to do with the not-musical fulfilment of the

word" (Libeskind 1991, p. 86). Schoenberg was unable to complete Moses' lyrics,

and as a result, Moses simply speaks "oh word, thou word" (Libeskind 1991, p.

86). Schoenberg identifies the "problem of the relationship between form and

formlessness, speech and silence, the visible and the invisible..." (Taylor 1993,

p. 151 cited in Mitsogianni 2000, p. 30) within the play, which Libeskind translates

into the juxtaposition of a vast building with an absence of Jewish culture. This is

the third aspect of the proposal: "that of deported or missing Berliners" (Libeskind

1991, p. 86). Finally, Libeskind utilises Walter Benjamin's urban apocalypse

along the One Way Street" (Libeskind 1991, p. 86); represented through "the

continuous sequence of sixty sections along the zig-zag" (Libeskind 1991, p. 86).

Libeskind's planning of the Jewish Museum can be simplified into four aspects,

however each aspect is complex and is evident in the built work.

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The complex form of the Jewish Museum provides a unique exterior and series

of facades to the building. Clad in zinc and glass, the building contrasts to the

late-Baroque Collengienhaus in which the Berlin Museum lies (see figure six).

"The new structure sets a definite contrast to the configuration and style of the

old, yet at the same time works as a lateral element that clearly defines the

old building's position in space" (Schneider 1999, p. 28). The uniform height of

the building does not conform to any eave line or cornice on its surrounding

buildings, yet its design and height "reflect the generally prevalent inner-city

building height" (Schneider 1999, p. 28). The small projection on Lindenstrasse

acts a "spatially effective hinge" providing the "historical relationship between

urban space and structure" (Schneider 1999, p. 28). The imposing design of the

building leaves little interpretation of the interior of the building: it is "neither [a]

skin, nor curtain wall, the facade does not reveal the internal organisation of the

museum" (Schneider 1999, p. 36). Libeskind's use of windows "are the actual

topographical lines joining addresses of Germans and Jews immediately around

the site and radiating outwards" (Libeskind 1991, p. 86 cited in Bates 2000, p. 36;

Libeskind 1991, p. 86 cited in Schneider 1999, p. 27). These windows, however,

are an innovation of conceptualisation: "they alter the history of the facade.

They challenge the tradition of facades" (Bates 2000, p. 36). As a result, the

facade is able to produce thinness and depth simultaneously. "Thinness, as the

space between the inside and the outside seems to evaporate as these windows

accumulate and disperse without apparent reason or logic. But also depth as

slicing, and bevelling of the cuts and openings push the interior more and more

away from the wrapping metallic, exterior surface" (Bates 2000, p. 36). Libeskind

deliberately chose to contrast the Jewish Museum's facade to the wide variety of

30

building styles which surround the site, producing a complementary yet imposing

structure.

Libeskind's redesign of the typical entry allows for a more emotional experience

to be presented to the visitors to the Jewish Museum in Berlin. The building is

sited as a separate entity to the Berlin Museum, generating a void "between the

two buildings that clearly functions as a powerful symbol of the separation, the

severance of connection that the Holocaust cleaved between the Jews of Berlin

from the city and the people" (Light 2000, p. 15). To enter the Jewish Museum,

one has to enter through the shared entrance in the Berlin Museum. The new

buildings presence is felt in the Berlin Museum: through the "shape of a massive

stairwell projecting into the Baroque building" (Schneider 1999, p. 48). Visitors

step down into an underground passageway that "links old and new buildings,

the cities history with Jewish history" (Schneider 1999, p. 48). Visitors then enter

the main subterranean corridor: a space that "gradually ascends, where the great

main stairway of the museum which leads to the exhibition floors and therefore

an insight into the Jewish-German history, appears in the distance" (Schneider

1999, p. 48). This main corridor is called the 'Axis of Continuity': it connects the old

history of Berlin to the new history; a connection of German and Jewish histories.

Along this axis, two crossroads lead off the main corridor. The first corridor, the

'Axis of Emigration', leads to the E.T.A Hoffmann Garden, or the 'Garden of Exile'

and the outside world. The second, the 'Axis of the Holocaust', leads to a dead

end, the Holocaust Tower. In both these corridors, the floor level gradually rises,

whilst the ceiling height remains constant. As a result, a sense of claustrophobia

can result. The entry to the Jewish Museum commences the overwhelming

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emotional experience the commemorative museum attempts to achieve.

Libeskind's Jewish Museum utilises the void as both a negative space and a

tangible object. The museum is "transected by a straight line which is a void,

empty and impenetrable" (Light 2000, p. 15), representing absence and highlights

the absence of Jews in Berlin, the Jewish world, and to humanity. The void

requires the traversal of bridges, as "any step to the future must bridge this ever-

threatening unfillable void" (Light 2000, p. 16). Six voids are presented throughout

the museum; each one is untreated, lacking in artificial light and unoccupied. The

limited light in these voids references Ernst Bloch, the German philospher, in 1935,

when he wrote: "there is a night full of new horror stories - a night that is made

only more intense by the overabundance of light bulbs, and the lack of the other,

more thoughtful forms of illumination" (Bloch 1998, p. 320 cited in Carter 2000,

p. 26). Through a decision to rely purely on natural light, Libeskind reduces the

horror these stark spaces could provide to the museum. His voids are "full of the

silenced chatterings of the murdered victims of the Shoah ... make the absence

present" (Light 2000, p. 16). Only one void, titled the "Memory Void", is occupied

by Menashe Kadishman's "Shalekhet (Fallen Leaves)", in which 10,000 roughly

cut steel faces occupy the void (see figure seven). The occupation of this void

serves as an architectural translation of the murder of Jewish people in Europe,

evoking painful recollections of the innocent victims. Through a represented lack

and absence of artefacts and Jewish culture, the true impact and horror of an

extermination of a culture is provided through a "host of signifiers as fragments,

brought together through the observor's glimpses" (Mitsogianni 2000, p. 29-30).

As a result, "the intangible 'absence', shapes and registers the visible, the form"

32

(Mitsogianni 2000, p. 29-30). However, a limited collection of Jewish artefacts

remain, in the permanent collection on the upper floors, and in the axes in which

personal documents, photos and mementos are presented. The limited artefacts

that remain and are exhibited speak volumes about the extermination of the

Jewish culture during the Holocaust. Libeskind's powerful use of voids, reflects

this, and also links spaces together within the building.

The 'Axis of Emigration' culminates with the E.T.A Hoffmann garden, or the

'Garden of Exile'. Comprised of forty-nine inclined rough concrete columns in a

seven by seven square (see figure eight), presents an inverse to the notion of a

garden: it is considered upside down. Visitors move through the garden meters

below the willow oak, which are located in each of the columns. Forty-eight of the

columns are filled with the "earth of Berlin and stand for 1948 - the formation of

the State of Israel" (Libeskind cited in Schneider 1999, p. 40). The final, central

column, contains earth of Jerusalem and "stands for Berlin itself" (Libeskind cited

in Schneider 1999, p. 40). The square is tilted into the earth, and as a result,

the walkway between the columns is sloped. This produces a dizzying effect for

visitors, the "surround buildings appear to totter" (Schneider 1999, p. 50).

"What will remain standing and what will fall seems uncertain, and there

is no common level with the surroundings that could provide orientation and

security. It can be said that the space provides a comment into the disorientation

felt by the Jewish culture during the Shoah, at the time where all Jewish people

where forcibly removed from their home and exiled from Germany. The thorny

rose, which is a symbol of life, is able to both injure and reconcile. In the ancient

33

city of Jerusalem, roses were the only plants permitted. Libeskind placed a rose

arbour around the 'Garden of Exile', representing a "modern inversion of the

ancient motif of Eden, the paradisal Garden" (Schneider 1999, p. 40).

As the only direct external connection to the museum and the only means of

leaving the museum, the Garden can be said to be a Garden of Eden for the

visitors, as it provides a relief from the intense emotional experience inside the

museum, albeit a relief that disorients the visitor. The 'Garden of Exile' is an

embodiment of the eviction the Jewish people faced when being driven out of

Germany.

After entry, the second corridor that leads off the 'Axis of Continuity' is the 'Axis

of the Holocaust', a corridor that leads to a dead end. It moves the visitor into

the 'Holocaust Tower', a space that, like other voids throughout the building, is

not-lit, not cooled or heated, and is untreated. The space ends the "old history

of Berlin" (Libeskind 1999, p. 30 cited in Carter 2000, p. 24), corresponding "to

an experience which somewhere else you have called the end of history - the

Holocaust, as the end of history" (Derrida 1997, p. 111 cited in Light 2000, p.

15). The space is dark and cold, with only a fragment of natural light allowed into

the space through a small cut in the ceiling plane (see figure nine). Libeskind,

inspired by a tale of a lady who survived Auschwitz, made the cut in the ceiling in

reference to the ability of light to provide hope for people. "Confined in a railway

wagon, on her way to Auschwitz, she saw a light through the grating... maybe it

was no more than lamps in a tunnel, but she believed it to be clouds, stars and

sunshine. The desire to see that light once more got her through" (Libeskind

34

1999 cited in Carter p. 26). Sounds of the city are faintly heard in the space,

and if children are playing in the school yard in the neighbouring building, their

cheers and cries seep into the space. It "exerts an extremely compelling effect

on anyone who experiences it" (Schneider 1999, p. 51). The 'Holocaust Tower'

provides a blunt end to history as a result of the Holocaust.

The intentions of commemorative Museums, like Libeskind's Jewish Museum in

Berlin, are to provide a space in which discussions about how to progress society

after a tragedy. Libeskind states in 1998 that "this Museum is not only a response

to a particular program, but an emblem of hope" (cited in Light 2000, p. 16). It

provides society a means in which to understand the trauma experienced by

those of Jewish culture during the Shoah. Achieved through the interior spaces,

the Jewish Museum evokes reactions in its visitors, through the manipulation

of the interior environment: "...spiritual testimony contained in each receding

shadow of the names; in each ray of light" (Libeskind cited in Light 2000, p. 18).

His architecture contains "the immaterial, the uncertain, the empty" (Mitsogianni

2000, p. 15), acting as an invention of more "appropriate means to cope with new

events that come up" (Libeskind 1996, p. 22 cited in Bates 2000, p. 33). In moving

forward from the atrocities of the Holocaust, James Young states that it "may be

that the finished monument completes memory itself, putting a cap on memory

work and drawing a bottom line beneath an era that must always haunt Germany"

(1997, p. 854-855). The building does not provide an answer: it allows society to

generate an answer, propose solutions to rectify the history of a nation (Libeskind

1990, p. 50 cited in Ball 2008, p. 75). As a result, Libeskind's Jewish Museum in

Berlin effectively evokes a reaction in each visitor to the site, generating ideas in

35

moving forwards from the Shoah.

Commemorative museums through their architecture and exhibits seek to

evoke a reaction to a traumatic past. Daniel Libeskind's Jewish Museum in

Berlin attempts to provoke a reaction to the Shoah, attempting to provide an

understanding of the pain and suffering the Jewish people experienced during

this time. Through an understanding of the brief, the planning and the exterior of

the building, large gestures Libeskind proposed to begin the dialogue for moving

forward with history have been discussed. Furthermore, an analysis of the interior

of the building, with specific focus on the entry, the voids, the 'Garden of Exile'

and the 'Holocaust Tower' describe how through these powerful space, reactions

to the past are evoked. Finally, the chapter concluded with an examination to

whether this commemorative museum effectively evoked a reaction to the past.

36

37

In comparison to the Jewish Museum in Berlin, the National September Eleven

Memorial and Museum, designed by Michael Arad and James Max Bond Jr.

respectively, is another example of the commemorative museum type that evokes

a reaction to the past through its architecture, in this case, the tragic September

Eleven attacks. However, unlike the Jewish Museum, the National September

Eleven Memorial and Museum not only uses architecture to generate reactions,

it utilises a wide collection of artefacts and objects to present the tragedy of

the event. The spaces display the September Eleven attacks through both the

absence of artefacts or space, and the physical presentation of materials. This

chapter of the dissertation commences with an overview of the brief the Lower

Manhattan Development Corporation tendered for the design of the site. It moves

into discussing the planning Arad used for the site. Furthermore, the chapter

presents the entry pavilion designed by Snhetta, which acts an entry to the

museum below the memorial. The chapter then provides a presentation and

summary of both the design of the museum, and the exhibits on display. The

chapter culminates with an analysis into the effectiveness of the site in evoking a

reaction to a traumatic event in the history of America.

After the tragedy of the September Eleven attacks, the city of New York, and

America as a whole, required a space in which citizens could come together

and commemorate the event. Proposed by the Lower Manhattan Development

Corporation, the brief for the National September Eleven Memorial asked for a

"homage to the human spirit and the human identity" (Simpson 2006, p. 59),

remembering those who died, and joining it "with the evocation of an upbeat

future" (Simpson 2006, p. 75). It required all entries and designs to accommodate

38

four ideals: a recognition of the names of each individual who lost their lives on the

planes, in the towers, at the Pentagon, and in the plane crash in Pennsylvania; a

place for housing the remains of people who could be identified; spatial elements

that allowed for contemplation; and significant acknowledgment of those who

aided in the rescue and recovery over the nine months it took to search the site

(Simpson 2006, p. 75). Furthermore, the brief required that the designs "make

the footprints of the towers visible; to leave the slurry wall exposed; to enable

visitors to get to bedrock..." (Stephens 2004, p. 36). Whilst the brief was designed

by the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation, the client was difficult to

determine: the sheer number of stakeholders and "special-interest" groups who

required certain elements of the design to reflect their needs, made the overall

design process difficult (Filler 2013, p. 266). The Lower Manhattan Development

Corporation curated a brief that required entrants to adhere to four key elements

in order to satisfy the needs of all parties involved in the site.

In combination with Peter Walker, the world renowned landscape architect,

Michael Arad's planning for the National September Eleven Memorial began

well before the brief was presented. After witnessing the Twin Towers etched in

frosting on the top a cake in a pastry-shop, one evening near the Hudson River,

the "idea of the reflection of the skyline on the river and these absences being

superimposed on it" (Arad cited in Hagan 2006, p. 25; Goldman 2004, p. 90)

struck Arad. He applied this to the site, developing the notion of two voids that are

sited on the footprint of Minoru Yamasaki's original World Trade Centre buildings.

Titled Reflecting Absence, the scheme "mimics and pays homage to Lutyen's

39

great memorial at Thiepval1 (see figure ten), also composed of names where

no bodies could be found" (Winter 1995, p. 105 cited in Simpson 2006, p. 79),

embodying the absence of the buildings and the loss of life. Arad states that he

needed to incorporate the future use of the space into his memorial design: in

that it is a site dedicated to the memory of September 11, however it needs to

accommodate for people as a public space (Arad 2013); he wanted them to be

"incredibly resilient and powerful spaces" (Arad 2013). Developing the idea of the

twin voids, Arad developed a design that encompassed two pools of water, with

large waterfalls that pour water into these pools or voids (Filler 2013, p. 268).

Around the voids, plaques with the names of the victims who perished on the site

are engraved. Focusing on the combination of public space with the memorial

type, Arad and Walker designed the site to reflect the need for a memorial to the

September Eleven attacks, however they incorporated the future needs of the

city.

The twin pools on the site are key elements of the National September Eleven

Memorial, as they allow people to visually connect with the names of the people

and the buildings that were lost. As one moves through the plaza towards the pair

of "abyss-like pools" (Filler 2013, p. 265), the calming greenery and grey granite

tiles added by Walker, give way to the overbearing crescendo of the sound of

falling water into the pools (Filler 2013, p. 265). Determined by the footprints of

the original Twin Towers, the voids span "176 feet on each side" (Filler 2013, p.

1. Sir Edwin Lutyen's 1932 Thiepval memorial is located in the 1916 Somme Battlefield. The me-morial pays homage to those soldiers who went missing in action, whereby the names of these soldiers are engraved into panels on the monument. This differs from Arad's National September Eleven Memorial in that is a monument to those who went missing in action during the Battle of the Somme, as opposed to those who were reduced to nothing in the falling of the Twin Towers.

40

274), and are located in the exact position of the original towers (see figure

eleven). Niagara-like waterfalls pour into the sunken fountains, drowning out the

sounds of the city around the site (Filler 2013, p. 270). As one looks down into

the thirty-foot deep pits, another smaller square extends yet another fifteen feet

below the pools surface, evoking a "simplified, monochromatic grisaille version

of Josef Alber's Homage to the Square series" (Filler 2013, p. 270). The viewer

becomes immersed in the falling water and the twin voids, and as a result, the

viewer is not distracted by the surrounding city when examining the names that

surround the twin voids (Filler 2013, p. 271). Arad wanted the twin pools to be

something that has the ability to be physically interacted with, not just something

that one looks at from afar (Arad 2013). However, Arad wanted these points of

interaction to reflect how the event had both small and large scales (Sturken

2015, p. 477). The use of twin voids recreates the Twin Towers for the visitors, as

their dimensions and the location speak to the original, providing an architectural

reflection on what and who once occupied the site.

Surrounding these twin pools, are the names of people who lost their life during

the September Eleven attacks. Not only do these names include those who

perished in the twin towers, they include the names of those who died on both

flights that hit the towers; those who perished at the Pentagon; and those who

lost their life in the plane crash outside of Shanksville, Pennsylvania (Reno 2011,

p. 3; Filler 2013, p. 271). Purposely "devoid of national symbolism" (Reno 2011,

p. 5), the names are cut into bronze plates in Hermann Zapf's classic Optima

typeface (1952-1955), so that they "can be backlit after dark" (Filler 2013, p. 271)

(see figure twelve). With over three thousand names, the organisation of them

41

became problematic for Arad. Arad decided that instead of listing the names in

alphabetical order, the term 'meaningful adjacencies' was coined to explain the

method used in sorting the names and locating them around the site. Families of

victims could request for names of loved ones to be located next to one another,

whether they were families, friends, or workers who travelled together everyday

(Hagan 2006, p. 25); it brought "individual human stories into an arrangement'

(Arad 2013). For example, one of the requests they received was from a young

woman who lost her father on Flight 11, and her friend who was working in the

North Tower. Flight 11 crashed into that tower, and as a result the two names

were placed side by side (Arad 2013). However, in some cases the names had

no particular associations to others. As a result, Arad presents the names as

individuals, "only as they were in the moments before the planes struck the

towers - as individuals going about their daily lives" (Reno 2011, p. 5). In order to

mitigate any difficulties in locating names in the site, visitors can type the name

they are looking for into a computer or ask a staff member to do so, whereby it

locates the name to a void, side of that void and panel. Arad evokes a reaction

to the September Eleven tragedy through the powerful names of the victims who

lost their lives in the attacks.

The entry to the underground September Eleven museum is facilitated by the entry

pavilion designed by Snhetta. The Norwegian firm, named after the Norwegian

word for "snowcap", was founded in 1987 by six landscape architects, who are

committed to interdisciplinary practice. (Filler 2013, p. 253). Situated next to the

twin pools, the freestanding pavilion stands in stark contrast to the elements that

surround it (Filler 2013, p. 274). The studio does not adhere to any one design

42

approach, tackling their designs project by project. However, in this instance, the

visual language of Daniel Libeskind's hypothetical renderings for the World Trade

Centre site2 is evident in the design, as a way to mediate the deconstructivist

style of the towers to the clean and restrained design of the memorial pools

(Filler 2013, pp. 263-264). However, the design does still fall out of place in the

aesthetic of the site: its "exaggeratedly slant roof form" (Filler 2013, p. 264),

appears to mimic a "structure falling down, a dreadful miscalculation on this

bedeviled site" (Filler 2013, p. 264). However, once inside the pavilion, elements

of the September Eleven begin to show through the fabric of Snhetta's design.

Dedicated to providing visitor comfort and orientation, the design for the building

allows "visitors to find a place that is a naturally occurring threshold between

the everyday life of the city and the uniquely spiritual quality of the Memorial"

(Dykers cited in Snhetta 2016). The first thing visitors see when they enter

the pavilion are "the tridents, which are huge remnants of the outer skin of the

towers" (Sturken 2015, p. 478) (see figure thirteen). Once visitors are inside the

space, they can "look out through the pavilion's atrium to see others peer in, and

begin a physical and mental transition in the journey from above to below ground"

(Snhetta 2016). It is in this space, in which the transition from the memorial to

the museum becomes apparent, whereby visitors move down the escalators into

the museum space.

Whilst the museum space by James Max Bond Jr. speaks a different architectural

language to the voids used above ground, the space amplifies the loss of life in

2. Daniel Libeskind is the master planner for the site, however, has slowly been pushed out of designing the site itself, with the multistory residential and office buildings being subcontracted to other architectural firms.

43

the September Eleven attacks. Primarily, the September Eleven museum "tells

us a lot about how 9/11 has shaped American culture and society in what we

can still define as the post 9/11 era in American history, both in what it does

well and what is unable, for political reasons, to do" (Sturken 2015, p. 475). The

brief required the museum to provide "meaningful access to certain aspects of

the site, including the slurry wall that famously held back the Hudson River that

day and afterward and the column footprints of the original twin towers" (Sturken

2015, p. 475). Visitors move through the space along a "'broad ribbon walkway'

that brings visitors down toward the huge central space" (Sturken, 2015, p. 477),

culminating in the vast Foundation Hall. Shaped by the two large voids above

from Arad's design, the space reaches seven stories underground to the bedrock,

with the two key galleries housed below the voids (Sturken 2015, p. 477). The

scale of the site enables a "form of 9/11 exceptionalism", generating a valuation

by the visitors of the three-thousand deaths (Sturken 2015, p. 478). Haunted by

the stories of bodies (Sturken 2015, p. 484), visitors experience stories that are

chilling, reminding them of the "initial confusion as the events unfolded" (Sturken

2015, p. 481). Throughout the design of the National September Eleven Museum,

visitors are forced to react to the sheer scale of the tragedy.

The National September Eleven Museum, unlike the Jewish Museum in Berlin,

does not express the loss of life (and culture) primarily through its architecture.

Instead, the focus of this museum is to share a wide variety of objects and artefacts

to the visitors. Taking centre stage in the vast Foundation Hall is what is known

as the "Last Column" (see figure fourteen).The thirty-six feet high steel colossus,

is "covered with messages to the dead, photographs, and memorial inscriptions"

44

(Sturken 2015, p. 471), inscribed there by the police, firefighters and other

personnel who aided in the recovery mission at Ground Zero. When it was

finally removed from the Ground Zero site in 2002, "it was draped with a flag and

awarded an honour guard escort" (Sturken 2015, p. 471), and now standing in the

Foundation Hall, it will "encourage reflection on the foundations of resilience, hope

and community" (Sturken 2015, p. 471). The second object in the Foundation

Hall, is a brick "taken from the compound in Abbottabad, Pakistan, where Osama

Bin Laden was assassinated" (Sturken 2015, p. 472) (see figure fifteen). Whilst

it does not exude its historical importance, the brick "sits in the museum as a

form of evidence" (Sturken 2015 p. 473), as retribution of the attacks. "Crushed

ambulances, an enormous water main valve, bent pieces of steel...are spread

throughout the museum spaces" (Sturken 2015, p. 481), along with portraits of

those who died in the attacks. However, tucked away in a separate room, is what

is known as "The Composite" (see figure sixteen): "a chunk of debris in which

approximately four to five floors of one of the twin towers are compressed into an

object several feet high" (Sturken 2015, p. 484). Widely controversial in its inclusion

in the site, "The Composite" is disturbing "because of its indecipherability, its

indeterminancy" (Sturken 2015, p. 484). A repository for the unidentified remains

of those killed on September Eleven is located between the two footprints of the

voids. It is hoped that in the future with the development of technology, these

remains will be able to be identified, and returned to their families (The New York

Office of the Chief Medical Examiner 2016). The artefacts arranged throughout

the museum each evoke reactions to the September Eleven attacks in the visitors

who move through the site.

45

Similar to the Jewish Museum, this example of the commemorative museum

type aims to provide a means and a physical space in which society can gather

and discuss how to move forth in the wake of a tragedy, specifically here the

September Eleven attacks. The location of the site is not a symbolic gesture as

the site of the Jewish Museum is: the powerful use of the original footprints and

site of the Twin Towers adds volumes to the power this memorial and museum

has in commemorating the September Eleven attacks. Whilst the nature of the

museum is entirely different to the Jewish Museum, the notions are similar, in

that the loss of life is numerable. Both Arad and James Max Bond Jr. managed to

create a memorial/museum that "conveys the same sense of inevitability that one

senses with all great art - that it had to be like this, and no other way" (Filler 2013,

p. 269): no other design option would have done the event justice as the built

designs do. Not only do Arad's memorial and Bond's museum provide reactions

to the event, these two pieces of architecture allow for the families of the victims

to feel connected to those that they lost, and to provide a home for the people that

passed. Monica Iken Murphy, a widow of September Eleven, indicates that when

she comes to the site she feels his presence; its his home, his "final resting place"

(cited in Filler 2013 p. 273). The spaces are "designed to accrue more stories,

to hold conferences and events, and to function as an educational institution"

(Sturken 2015, p. 489), bringing "individual human stories into an arrangement"

(Arad 2013). As a result, both the memorial and the museum effectively evoke

a reaction in each visitor that passes through the site, enabling the discussion

of how America can move forward in a 'post 9/11-era', remembering those who

passed and suffered.

46

Like the Jewish Museum in Berlin, the National September Eleven Memorial and

Museum by Michael Arad and James Max Bond Jr., effectively evokes a reaction

to a traumatic event in American history through both the presentation of absence

and artefacts. The use of architecture and the presentation of artefacts, the spaces

allow visitors and family members to connect with loved ones who passed in the

attacks, or to congregate with community in order to remember those who died.

This chapter commenced with a presentation into the brief, the planning, the twin

pools and the names of the victims in Arad's memorial design. The chapter then

presented a discussion of the entry pavilion designed by Snhetta, which acts as

an entry to Bond's museum below. It discussed the museum and its exhibits, and

ended with an analysis into the effectiveness of the site in evoking a reaction to

a traumatic history.

47

48

Defined as "counter-monuments: brazen, painfully self-conscious memorial

spaces" (Young 1997, p. 858), commemorative museums are conceived to

evoke reactions to traumatic episodes in the history of a nation. The artists and

architects who design this typology believe that the conventional museum shuts

down interaction between the tragedy and the visitors, rather than embodying

it and providing a means in which society can discuss how to move forward.

This notion was investigated through two means: through a presentation of the

histories of museums and how they developed; and through an analysis of two

contemporary case studies of the commemorative museum type.

Chapter one provided a history of museums, and their evolution over time into the

commemorative museum type. What commenced as private and elaborate areas

for wealthy aristocrats to display their collections, the "cabinets des curieux"

commenced the notion of the museum, restricting its access to those with either

the funds to create their own, or friendships with those that did. The museum

moved into a semi-public space, with what can be considered the classic ideal

of a museum: the British Museum. Whilst its doors opened to more than the

aristocracy, visitors were required to present their credentials, and only fifteen

people were allowed in at a time. However, the Great Exhibition of 1851, whilst

not a museum as such, presented history and culture to the masses, with Paxton's

building designed to allow for all to experience the exhibits on display. This pre-

empted the birth of the modern museum and in particular the commemorative

museum. The chapter also provided a background to Daniel Libeskind, Michael

Arad and James Max Bond Jr., the architects behind the two case studies.

49

Chapter two presented the first case study used in this dissertation for the

commemorative museum type: Daniel Libeskind's Jewish Museum in Berlin.

The chapter commenced with a presentation of the brief set by the West Berlin

Senate in 1987, requesting a new wing to present Jewish history as an integral

part of the city's history to be designed. It then presented the planning of the

building, and the intricacies of the exterior of the building. The chapter provided

a description of the interior of the building, focusing on the entry, the use of

voids, the 'Garden of Exile' and the 'Holocaust Tower'. The chapter concluded

with an analysis of the effectiveness this commemorative museum presented in

evoking a reaction to a traumatic history, specifically the Shoah. This example of

a commemorative museum is distinguished by its symbolic location of the site,

and how Libeskind utilised numerous approaches in the design, resulting in a

multi-layered scheme. The building does not provide an answer to the Shoah:

it facilitates the discussion in the community and the wider nation as to how to

move forward after acknowledging the atrocities that occurred during this time.

Chapter three presented another example of the commemorative museum type.

In this case, the National September Eleven Memorial and Museum, designed by

Michael Arad and James Max Bond Jr. respectively. The chapter commenced with,

like chapter two, a presentation of the brief the Lower Manhattan Development

Corporation set for the development of the Ground Zero site. It then presented

the planning Michael Arad used in his design, focusing on how the use of twin

abyss-like pools and engraved names evoke a reaction to the September Eleven

attacks. The chapter then provided a description of Snhetta's pavilion, and how it

provides access to Bond's museum. A description of the museum and its exhibits

50

ensued, with the chapter culminating in an analysis of its effectiveness in evoking

a reaction to a traumatic history. This example of the commemorative museum is

exemplified and differs from the Jewish Museum by its use of the original site of

the Twin Towers. This provides a solid foundation for the memorial, allowing the

site to speak volumes about the tragedy of the September Eleven attacks. This

space, like the Jewish Museum, does not provide an answer to the September

Eleven attacks: it evokes discussion about the future of American in the 'post-

9/11' era.

Through the studies of Libeskind's Jewish Museum, and the National September

Eleven Memorial and Museum by Arad and Bond, it has been shown that the

commemorative museum type effectively evokes a reaction to the past, to

traumatic history regardless of its origins. These two museums depict different

types of loss of life and culture both in different ways. Libeskind relies on the

architecture, specifically the use of the 'void' as a physical object, to evoke this

reaction in the buildings viewers. Arad, similarly, uses architectural voids to

depict the loss of culture and life. Bond, on the other hand, uses the artefacts

retrieved from the September Eleven attacks, in all states of condition, to provide

the generation of reactions in each of the museum's visitors. What these spaces

all have in common, is that they all provide a space for the community to gather,

and discuss how it is best for the society to move forth after such tragic events in

each nations past. As a result, these examples are extremely effective in evoking

a reaction to the loss of Jewish culture and life in the Shoah, and the loss of life

in the September Eleven attacks.

51

Through the study of the architecture of these two case studies, the principles

of architecture that force people to move and think differently will aid in moving

forward with a graduation brief and into an architectural career.

52

53

CHAPTER ONE

Bal, M 1996, "The discourse of the museum" in Greenberg, R, Ferguson, B and

Nairne, S, (eds) Thinking about exhibitions, Routledge, London, pp. 145-157.

Bennett, T 2013, "The exhibitionary complex", in The birth of the museum: history,

theory, politics, Taylor and Francis, Florence, pp. 59-88.

Bloom, E & Hamann, A (eds.) 2000, Lineage: the architecture of Daniel Libeskind,

The Jewish Museum of Australia, Melbourne.

Briggs, J 2004, "J. Max Bond, building a reputation 40-year in design", The Crisis,

vol. 111, no. 5, pp. 43-44

British Museum 2016, Architecture, accessed 11 June 2016,

<http://www.britishmuseum.org/about_us/the_museums_story/architecture.

aspx>

Cesare, C 2014, "The habit of curiosity", Agathos, vol. 5, no. 1, pp. 83-89

Coragan, P 2000 in Bloom, E & Hamman, A (eds.), Lineage: the architecture of

Daniel Libeskind, The Jewish Museum of Australia, Melbourne, pp. 11-12

Filler, M 2013, "Michael Arad", Makers of modern architecture volume II, The

New York Review of Books, New York, pp. 265-276.

54

Hagan J 2006, "The breaking of Michael Arad", New York Mag, vol. 39, no. 18,

pp. 20, 22-27, 100-101

Hansen-Glucklich, J 2010, "Evoking the sacred: visualing holocaust narratives in

national museums", Journal of modern Jewish Studies, vol. 9, no. 2, pp. 209-232.

Hooper-Greenhill, E 1992, "What is a musuem?" in Museums and the shaping of

knowledge, Routledge, London, pp. 1-22

Light, H 2000 in Bloom, E & Hamman, A (eds.), Lineage: the architecture of

Daniel Libeskind, The Jewish Museum of Australia, Melbourne, pp. 13-18.

Libeskind, D 1979, "End space", in Libeskind, D 1991, Daniel Libeskind:

countersign, Academy Editions, London, pp. 13-15

Libeskind, D 1991, "Upside down x", in Libeskind, D 1991, Daniel Libeskind:

countersign, Academy Editions, London, pp. 8-11

Poulot, A 2013, "Another history of museums: from the discourse to the museum-

piece", Anais do Museu Palista, vol. 1, no. 1, pp. 27-47

Studio Libeskind 2016, Military history museum, accessed 17 April 2016, <http://

libeskind.com/work/military-history-museum/>

55

CHAPTER TWO

Ball, K 2008, 'Deconstructivist architecture between Libeskind and Eisenman:

toward a "Jewish" antimemorial genre?, Disciplining the Holocaust, State

University of New York Press, Ithaca, pp. 73-93.

Bates, D 2000, 'The age of the line', in Bloom, E & Hamann, A (eds.) 2000,

Lineage: the architecture of Daniel Libeskind, The Jewish Museum of Australia,

Melbourne, pp. 32-36.

Carter, P 2000 'Avoided spaces: Libeskind, Freud, agoraphobia', in Bloom, E

& Hamann, A (eds.) 2000, Lineage: the architecture of Daniel Libeskind, The

Jewish Museum of Australia, Melbourne, pp. 23-26.

Libeskind, D 1991, 'The extension to the Berlin museum with the Jewish museum',

Daniel Libeskind: countersign, Academy Editions, London, pp. 85-107

Libeskind, D 1999, 'Preface', in Schneider, B 1999, Daniel Libeskind: Jewish

museum Berlin, Prestel, Munich. p. 13

Light, H 2000, 'Lines of faith, of hope and of spirit', in Bloom, E and Hamann, A

(eds) 2000, Lineage: the architecture of Daniel Libeskind, The Jewish Museum

of Australia, Melbourne, pp. 13-18.

56

Mitsogianni, V 2000, 'The outer', in Bloom, E & Hamann, A (eds.) 2000, Lineage:

the architecture of Daniel Libeskind, The Jewish Museum of Australia, Melbourne,

pp. 27-31.

Schneider, B 1999, Daniel Libeskind: Jewish museum Berlin, Prestel, Munich.

Studio Libeskind 2016, Jewish Museum Berlin, accessed 12 June 2016, <http://

libeskind.com/work/jewish-museum-berlin/>

Young, J 1997, 'Germany's memorial question: memory, counter-memory, and

the end of the monument', The south atlantic quarterly, vol. 96, no. 4, pp. 853-

880.

CHAPTER THREE

Arad, M 2013, 'Reflecting Absence: an interview with Michael Arad', interviewed

by Harel Shapira, Public Books, 20 August.

Filler, M 2013, 'Michael Arad', Makers of modern architecture: volume II, The

New York Review of Books, New York, pp. 265 - 276.

Filler, M 2013, 'Snhetta', Makers of modern architecture: volume II, The New

York Review of Books, New York, pp. 251-264.

Goldman, A 2004, 'Michael Arad', Esquire, vol. 141, no. 5, pp. 88-90.

57

Greatwar.co.uk 2016, Thiepval Memorial to the Missing, Somme Battlefields,

France, accessed 13 June 2016,

<http://www.greatwar.co.uk/somme/memorial-thiepval.htm>

Hagan, J 2006, 'The Breaking of Michael Arad', New York Magazine, vol. 39,

no. 18, pp. 20, 22-27, 100-101.

McCrary L 2011, 9/11 Postmodern Memorial Failure?, The American

Conservative, accessed 13 June 2016, <http://www.theamericanconservative.

com/2011/11/16/911-postmodern-memorial-failure/>

National September 11 Memorial and Museum 2016, The Lens: Capturing Life

and Events at the 9/11 Memorial and Museum, accessed 13 June 2016, <http://

www.911memorial.org/blog/lens-capturing-life-and-events-911-memorial-and-

museum-6>

New York Office of Chief Medical Examiner 2016, The WTC Repository,

accessed 13 June 2016, <http://www.nyc.gov/html/ocme/html/WTCRepository/

WTC_Repository.shtml>

Reno, R 2011, 'The Failed 9/11 Memorial', First Things, vol. 218, Dec 2011, pp.

3-5.

Simpson, D 2006, 'The tower and the memorial: building, meaning, telling', 9/11:

the culture of commemoration, The University of Chicago Press, Chicago, pp.

58

55-86.

Snhetta 2016, National September 11 Memorial Museum Pavilionm, accessed

13 June 2016, <http://snohetta.com/project/19-national-september-11-

memorial-museum-pavilion#>

Stephens, S with Luna, I & Broadhurst, R 2004, 'Memorial Competition',

Imagining Ground Zero: official and unofficial proposals for the World Trade

Centre competition, Thames and Hudson, London, pp. 36-47.

Sturken, M 2015, 'The 9/11 Memorial museum and the remaking of Ground

Zero', American Quarterly, vol. 67, no. 2, pp. 471-490.

9/11 Memorial Museum and BD+C staff, First look: 9/11 Memorial Museum opens

to first-responders, survivors, 9/11 families, accessed 13 June 2016, < http://

www.bdcnetwork.com/first-look-911-memorial-museum-opens-first-responders-

survivors-911-families-slideshow>

59

60

APPENDIX ONE: ILLUSTRATIONS

CHAPTER ONE

Figure one: The cabinets of curiosities: the Metallotheca of Michele Mercati in

the Vatican, 1719. (Source: T Bennett, The birth of the museum: history, theory,

politics, p. 60)

Figure two: The British Museum: Quadrangle Building. Sir Robert Smirke, 1852.

(Source: The British Museum, Architecture, accessed 11 June 2016, <http://www.

britishmuseum.org/about_us/the_museums_story/architecture.aspx>)

61

Figure three: Interior of South Court, The South Kensington Museum (later

Victoria and Albert Museum). Francis Fowke, 1862. Drawing: John Watkins, c.

1876. (Source: T Bennett, The birth of the museum: history, theory, politics, p. 71)

Figure four: The Great Exhibition 1851, Crystal Palace, The Western, or British

Nave, looking east. Joseph Paxton, 1851. (Source: T Bennett, The birth of the

museum: history, theory, politics, p. 62)

62

Figure five: Military History Museum, Dresden, Germany; exterior. Daniel

Libeskind, 2011. (Source: Studio Libeskind 2016, Military history museum,

accessed 17 April 2016, <http://libeskind.com/work/military-history-museum/>)

CHAPTER TWO

Figure six: Exterior, Jewish Museum Berlin. Daniel Libeskind 2000 (opened).

(Source: Studio Libeskind 2016, Jewish Museum Berlin, accessed 12 June 2016,

<http://libeskind.com/work/jewish-museum-berlin/>)

63

Figure seven: Menashe Kadishman's "Shalekhet (Fallen Leaves)" in the Memory

Void, Jewish Museum Berlin. Daniel Libeskind 2000 (opened). Photo: Torsten

Seidel. (Source: Studio Libeskind 2016, Jewish Museum Berlin, accessed 12

June 2016, <http://libeskind.com/work/jewish-museum-berlin/>)

Figure eight: Garden of Exile, Jewish Museum Berlin. Daniel Libeskind 2000

(opened). Photo: BitterBredt. (Source: Studio Libeskind 2016, Jewish Museum

Berlin, accessed 12 June 2016, <http://libeskind.com/work/jewish-museum-

berlin/>)

64

Figure nine: Holocaust Tower, Jewish Museum Berlin. Daniel Libeskind 2000

(opened). Photo: BitterBredt. (Source: Studio Libeskind 2016, Jewish Museum

Berlin, accessed 12 June 2016, <http://libeskind.com/work/jewish-museum-

berlin/>)

CHAPTER THREE

Figure ten: Thiepval Memorial to the Missing, viewed from the western side, with

French graves of the Anglo-French cemetary in the front. Sir Edwin Lutyen, 1932.

(Source: Greatwar.co.uk 2016, Thiepval Memorial to the Missing, Somme

65

Battlefields, France, accessed 13 June 2016, <http://www.greatwar.co.uk/

somme/memorial-thiepval.htm>)

Figure eleven: Southern pool of the 9/11 memorial at night. Michael Arad and

Peter Walker 2011. Photo: Jin Lee. (Source: National September 11 Memorial

and Museum 2016, The Lens: Capturing Life and Events at the 9/11 Memorial

and Museum, accessed 13 June 2016, <http://www.911memorial.org/blog/lens-

capturing-life-and-events-911-memorial-and-museum-6>)

Figure twelve: Names at the National September Eleven Memorial. Michael Arad

and Peter Walker 2011. (Source: L McCrary 2011, 9/11 Postmodern Memorial

66

Failure?, The American Conservative, accessed 13 June 2016, <http://www.

theamericanconservative.com/2011/11/16/911-postmodern-memorial-failure/>)

Figure thirteen: Snhetta's entry pavilion, steel tridents visible in entry, Snhetta

2014. Photo: Jeff Goldberg/Esto. (Source: Snhetta 2016, National September

11 Memorial Museum Pavilionm, accessed 13 June 2016, <http://snohetta.com/

project/19-national-september-11-memorial-museum-pavilion#>)

Figure fourteen: The "Last Column" stands in front of the Slurry Wall in the

Foundation Hall, Davis Brody Bond 2014. Photo: Jin Lee. (Source: M Sturken

2015, The 9/11 Memorial Museum and the Remaking of Ground Zero, p. 472)

67

Figure fifteen: Brick taken from the compound where Osama Bin Laden was found

in Pakistan. Davis Brody Bond 2014. Photo: Marita Sturken. (Source: M Sturken

2015, The 9/11 Memorial Museum and the Remaking of Ground Zero, p. 473)

Figure sixteen: "The Composite", National September Eleven Museum. Davis

Brody Bond 2014. Photo: Jin Lee. (Source: 9/11 Memorial Museum and BD+C

staff, First look: 9/11 Memorial Museum opens to first-responders, survivors, 9/11

families, accessed 13 June 2016, < http://www.bdcnetwork.com/first-look-911-

68

memorial-museum-opens-first-responders-survivors-911-families-slideshow>)

69