A deeper understanding of an exhibit

Many were offended by Wall’s exhibition, and I thought they had just reason to be offended. I wasn’t offended, as I made clear, but I understood why others might be. To me, the exhibition was just a collection of pictures. For those that have seen it (it’s still up), it will be easy to look at it as an eclectic mix of images that have invaded the news media since the years following the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks — images of what were prominent issues at the time when the artworks were created.

After the column was published, though, I was graciously invited by Kate Somers, curator of the Bernstein Gallery, to listen to Wall speak about the exhibition and her previous work. A more in-depth analysis of the artwork, and some help from the artist herself, gave me a new perspective on art, journalism and relevant, consequential debate among ourselves.

I was the only student there (talk about empty chair syndrome — an echo of a recent column by Kelsey Zimmerman), and was hence the subject of much curiosity. What was curious to me, however, was the extent to which my interpretation of her work was off target.

After Wall’s talk, what were eclectic collections of cliche images became stories. Each of her pieces is meant to be a glimpse into the time when the piece was made. Sept. 11 was an obvious choice. But so were the first three episodes of “Star Wars”; India and Pakistan at the brink of nuclear war; rumors of Osama bin Laden not being pursued by the military. The “breaking news” tag was quite apparent. In that respect, the artist was and is more journalist than artist. Or at least equally both.

She did not expect the controversial reactions from the Princeton community, but was still glad to have caused a stir, and from what I could tell, was glad that her work was displayed, for both the positive and negative critiques she received.

For all it’s worth, what was misinterpreted was not the artworks themselves, but the context they were made in — exactly the same mistake we make when engaging in meaningful conversation at Princeton. The exhibition and our reactions to it are just one example of how we debate other issues, perhaps graver ones, among each other, with individual opinions that grow into national debates, which grow into public and foreign policy. But without an appreciation of the other person’s context, without that extra bit of background information, our analysis is valid, but incomplete. As students of a great institution, I think we owe each other more.

The more we find out about someone else’s frame of reference, and the more we know about where their argument is coming from, the better we’ll be able to judge it. The number of times I’ve been left speechless in an argument while on this campus is quite amusing, if not utterly ridiculous. Part of it comes from my ignorance of all things that are not on Hulu, but some small part also has to do with being hit in the face with someone else’s story.

I was talking to a friend the other day after some attacks took place in my hometown, and the conversation deepened into how all of us deal with danger. He told me about his family in South Africa and the realities of how people deal with crime and terrorism, both drastic threats. I assumed that the people worried about going to the World Cup were just paranoid. Heck, if people were willing to go back home to warzones, what was this in comparison? But his story of how crime in South Africa affects everyone’s daily lives was incredible. He obviously had more useful stuff to say than I did, and it convinced me again that I am no expert.

He only echoed what Rhonda Wall told me, and I wish to echo it again. Whether the war is on terror, health policy, USG event funding or ‘Prince’ columns by freshmen, all of us have something to contribute. Complete and perfect information is an economist’s dream, but I hope not ours as social commentators. But when we are presented with background, with a little frame to the picture that someone paints for us, we must be ready to take it in and understand it, if not embrace it. And when it’s not present, we must look for it — look for the reason why someone is saying what they are saying.

Call it a way to avoid the stagnation of points of view, call it a way to avoid homogeneity, call it open-mindedness, call it anything. Like Rhonda Wall, my hope is just to get you talking about how we debate important issues. With increasing citizen journalism and more debate and grassroots political campaigning, each of us have become even more powerful in terms of how far our opinion goes. Let us make sure that those opinions have a strong foundation.

Zeerak Ahmed is a freshman from Lahore, Pakistan. He can be reached at zahmed@princeton.edu.