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ART HISTORY – Adventures and Holocaust Video


Short s tory   b y  Dalene   D avies   V ideo   c reated   f or   e xtra   c redit   Art  History  Adventures  Story    

Holocaust Extra  Credit  Video    link: Qa1PpcFNiNZfWSRTrui9DAJb6lWX_BVEQeDj4aGI=  

Dalene Davies    -­‐     3110  E  Chattaroy  Rd  Trlr24  Chattaroy  WA   99003  –     509-­‐981-­‐3743—  

3 -­‐ 8 -­‐ 2 0 1 3 — A R T H I S T O R Y   –   D A L E N E   D A V I E S  

Dedicated to Elizabeth Rowney. The best art history Instructor. 3-8-2012

Art History Adventures Venturing deeper into the main library, I ran across an old Art History book. This book appeared to be ancient, but looked in good shape. As I flipped through the pages, I saw an old military base, the ruins of which I recognized. I flipped to the glossary and found an old map hiding inside the pages. I opened the map and found myself looking for an old treasure. I decided it was time for a trip. I booked the fight, hotel, and vehicle all at the same time, and then set up my arrangements. Once I arrived in England, I settled into my room and then looked at the maps and old photos I found. The photomap highlighted a section in the ruins that I knew I needed to check for the treasure. I drove to the Chester’s Military Fort and wandered around the ruins of the bathhouse and military base from the 18th century. The ruins map showed a high lighted spot in the map, so I headed there. I suddenly found the spot and began to dig. The further down I went, the more dirt I pulled up, the more I worried I might be caught. I finally hit a hard rock or something, so I dug around it and found an old cheese box. When I opened it, the medallion glittered on the red velvet cover. I took it home and cleaned it up then placed it around my neck. As I settled down in bed, the Art book open to Ancient Egypt, I felt the world begin to shift and I was taken to another time.





Egypt I was wondering down the afterlife highway, feeling confused about what was happening to me. My Book of the Dead was in my arms as I made my way through Egypt. The confusion I felt resulted from my misguided belief that the Book of the Dead was not to be read. I glanced around and saw others reading their books then opened my book to see if I could find out the answers to the questions I had. Movies of my time gave the impression that the Book of the Dead was an evil book. As I opened the book, the words of spells and family names popped out at me. Answers to the questions I might be asked by the gods were revealed, allowing me to join family in the afterlife. The scrolls showed pictures that described each leg of the journey. I knew my confusion was due to the fact that as a non-Egyptian I learned that it was my soul that left after I died. I learned my body became like the earth and changed to dust. I watched those around me, looking for clues to how to behave. I looked to the pictures to see what I needed to learn. Lucky for me I was a ways back before it was my turn to answer the questions. The scroll opened in my hands and I was able to translate the words in my head. It was like someone was leading me through the steps to figure out the way another culture viewed life and death. I felt my mind react to the culture shock I felt. In my mind, I compared the Bible to the Book of the Dead. One shows a soul as ascending to heaven and the other shows the body entering the Underworld. I was shocked by the differences but intrigued by the ideas

presented by the Egyptians. The scroll in my arms was made from papyrus. A sign appeared in my own book that detailed how the scroll was made and it appeared to only be for me. Magic was at work, I was sure. The sign read:

How papyrus is made? To make papyrus paper the inner pith of the stem is cut lengthways into strips and soaked in water. The strips are then placed side by side with a second layer placed at right angles to the first. The two layers are then beaten with a mallet to break down the fibers and bond the strips together. The sheets are left to dry under weights for several days. The dried sheets are polished with a flat stone to make them smooth and ready for use. (Rashad, 2011)

While I floated through the weeds of papyrus located by the River Nile, I watched as the guy before me went through his own tests. His name was Hunefer, and he followed his own book. While I watched from a distance, my book again shifted with more information for me to discover what was happening. The book gave me this: “Family members commissioned papyrus scrolls—“Books of the Dead”—containing magical texts or spells to help the dead survive and pass the tests ... A scene from a Nineteenth Dynasty example, created for a man named Hunefer, shows him at successive stages in his induction into the afterlife (fig. 3–23 ). At the left, Anubis leads Hunefer to the spot where he will weigh the man’s heart in a tiny jar. After passing the test recorded by the ibis-headed god, Thoth, Hunefer is presented by the god Horus to the enthroned Osiris, holding his usual crook and flail.” (Stokstad, 2010) A detailed drawing appeared in my scroll right next to this description. I was shocked by the detail of the sketch. My eyes widened as I watched the gods test the man in front of me. He had

to have had hints on how to answer and passages to follow or he could never have passed through to the Underworld.  

(Stokstad, 2010)  

 (Hunefer,  2011)           I  followed  the  trail,  watching  to  see  how  all  this  would  turn  out.     He  vanished  into  the  air  before  me  as  I  dropped  into  the  dark   space  in  front  of  me  and  awoke  in  my  own  time,  a  scroll  tight  in   my  hand  and  the  television  replaying  “The  Mummy”.    Had  I  

visited another  time  or  was  I  just  dreaming?    My  body  was  still   shaking  and  I  could  still  read  from  my  Book  of  the  Dead.    It   must  have  been  a  vision,  I  decided.     Travels  Art  History              I  turned  off  the  tube  and  settled  back  into  my  bed.    The   ancient  necklace  snuggled  against  my  throat  as  I  drifted  off  into   sleep  land.    The  whirlwind  began  to  tug  at  my  body  as  I  was   tossed  through  time.    Slowly  time  would  speed  up  then  slow   then  twist  me  yet  again  as  I  was  twirled  around,  not  knowing   where  I  might  land.    The  terrain  was  rocky  yet  smooth,  the   world  felt  primitive.    I  walked  slowly  as  befit  as  goddess.    I   found  myself  sitting  on  a  throne  chiseled  out  of  the  mountain.            People  continued  to  work,  ignoring  me,  each  person  doing   his  or  her  job  with  precision.    Some  were  digging  rocks,  pulling   wood,  tending  fires,  and  watching  trails  while  others  were   busy  with  stone  tablets  keeping  watch  on  the  progress  around   them.    The  work  continued  with  a  chisel  pounding  of  huge  tree   limbs  to  form  logs,  the  sides  flattened  and  notched  to  lock  the   logs  together.                Time  flashed  by,  giving  me  a  glimpse  of  the  finished  product,   the  world  spinning  for  me  as  the  logs  and  columns  sprung  up   into  the  finished  project.    

(Stokstad, 2010)     As I watched, a second building appeared, this time in another area of the world. The architecture very similar in style and the artwork on the walls appeared more detailed.  

(Stokstad,  2010)  

The people changed and the location shifted as though time itself moved for me. I felt my mind attempt to shift with it. This time the people were Romans and the area appeared to be Rome. Turning toward the building, I thought it was another religious building. The Roman structure was apparent, the Corinthian type columns loomed above and this time the structure had an atrium in front. The grand nature of this building expressed a deep need to show love and reverence to the gods and it left me a bit breathless. I was mesmerized by the detail these cultures placed in their worship. I walked around the structure and noticed statutes that depicted visions of gods and goddess on stands. I ventured closer and noticed one that looked like a younger version of me. I wondered how that could be, when I noticed another older statue of me. This one had been made wood and was covered with some metal sheet. The iron was chipping off but both statues had a very good likeness of me. I must have made an impression with my whirlwind visits and they assumed I was a goddess. I smiled to think of the absurdity of this. I spent the day walking around the temple, talking to the people, and learning of their love for the gods and goddess they worshiped. The wind began to pick up again and whirl me to another time.

(Pierce, 2003)   I opened my eyes and found myself standing before the Washington State Capitol building. The structure was similar to the other two buildings. The Corinthian style Roman influence showed that the builders knew the history. The outside structure had the columns and romance style and the walkway was etched on the side of the building. I walked out a distance to check out the overall view and considered all I had experienced. I wondered along the sidewalk when I saw a little alcove just calling me. As I walked around the side, the wall showed a marble etching receding from the side, with my face staring out at me. I promptly fainted… dead away!  

School of Athens- Portal Wind rushing around me, woke me up. The gale shifted my hair and rumpled my skirt. I woke to a whirlwind portal that took my breath away. I stepped forward and found the entrance to a new world. The vibrant colors flowed around me and I entered...

(Stokstad, 2010)  School  of  Athens  painting,  334       This world opened into the School of Athens; people discussing their particular expertise. I walked through the arch to meet Plato and Aristotle, the two major players in philosophy and ethics. While I examined the room, I saw the world’s leaders holding court among the students. The discussions ranged from math to music to poetry on to astronomy and

politics. The artist Raphael was himself hiding in a corner. I was excited and scared at the same time. I felt stunned to be among the world’s elite and began to walk the room, listening, just soaking up the knowledge that flowed around me. I listened to a poetry reading, heard a musical composition, and devoured the thoughts and discussions that issued from around me.

(Stokstad, 2010)  School  of  Athens  painting,  334       As I finished my tour of the Athens school, I noticed the stairs leading down to the ground floor. I started down, and then found a door that glowed with the color of sunshine highlighting the extraordinary world I

found myself visiting. I touched the door, reverently, knowing I was about to leave the world of Raphael’s School of Athens. Once on the lower level, I looked up and gasped at the beautiful design and structure of the paintings. I knew it had been a unique experience. Once I finished soaking up the beauty and detail, my mind shifted to a new time. My time. In my overactive imagination, I saw what the 20th Century School of Athens would be like, for my generation to feast upon and devour our leaders in philosophy.

(Stokstad,  2010)  School  of  Athens  painting,  334       On the right The Beatles, The Police, and Beethoven would rule supreme. They would offer change, hope, and new directions for the students to follow and

gather love, hope, and joy in the world. Each would preside over a corner, with students of all walks of life gathered around them, listening to the music change our politics, discussions, and how we viewed our own mortality. On the left, or the main school area, would be Shakespeare, Edgar Allen Poe, Steven King, J.A. Jance, Mary Higgins Clark, Agatha Christie and Mark Twain. Shakespeare and Mark Twain would be in the middle discussing the social changes their works espoused. They would argue about the merits of their own writings and each try to point out the society they affected through their stories. Edgar Allen Poe and Steven King would have the honor of presiding over the suspense and horror corner of the room. Their collected writings would forever change the genre of literature for generations to come. The final corner would be the world of mystery. It would be dominated by the likes of Agatha Christie, J. A. Jance, and Mary Higgins Clark. These ladies would revolutionize the World of Suspense. Each in their own way taught the world that women could write and take over the industry. Agatha Christie and J.A Jance proved women could write from the male perspective, using the male viewpoint and logic to weave a story to hold the reader. Mary Higgins Clark grabbed the world of romantic suspense and sold billions worldwide. Each contributor would gather students to their side and teach of the magic of literature. The students would learn they could do anything they wished with their lives as long as they stayed true to their calling. This world is not about fame or even fortune; it is about talent and using that talent for the greater good.

It is about giving back to the world and making a better tomorrow, today. I sat in the corner, creating a world of scholars to change our national discourse and then sketched out the final view on my e-reader. The people became real and the world became more vibrant through the sunlit sky dome of my School of Athens in the 20th Century. I floated into the painting… dreaming of my future, and the world I would change. Before I could do that, my cell phone beeped to remind me of my interview scheduled for next week… dang… real life strikes again! I sighed and drifted off to my private dream world, the voices of the past, present and future School of Athens echoing in my mind for tomorrow would take care of itself. Dreaded Reality I was reclining on my couch, reviewing next weeks interview, when I felt the shudder of the portal begin again. I had no idea what to expect, so I just went with the pull. The portal deposited me in a front of a rippling pool of blue waves. I stood there a moment, collecting myself, when I saw I was standing before Anna Baleto. “What is going on here,” I thought to myself. I had an Interview with her scheduled for later on in the week. Why was I here? I sat on a rock, secluded behind a patch of trees, and watched the scene before me. Eyeballing the unfolding scene, I noticed that I appeared. I was watching myself being interviewed. The background ripples served to relax the twin me.

Anna sat on her rock and asked each question in a professional manner, referring to her notes only in a superficial way. She transitioned between each topic in uniform and with a minimal of interruption. The music flowed into each phase as though she had queued each song as a background. I was excited to see the end result. The next portal opened into the world of Harry Potter, The Twilight series, and the Civil War. What do these have in common? Art that led to History, of course. This led me to another interview, where I was also the interviewee. I hid in the background, watching, while I again explained my feelings on Art. I twisted around, smiling, when pictures of the Occupy movement appeared on a screen behind the double me. Pictures and words collided to become a fun and entertaining interview. The pictures, along with the soft music in the background, link together many aspects of the arts. Music, words, and painting give us a way to express how we view the world and the changes we have seen throughout the ages. Gagee Ashby also offered a unique view of interviewing style and linking words with pictures to tell a story. I found myself looking forward to the final version of this interview as well. While my mind was reeling from the adventures of the interview world, I felt another shift, only this time it was in front of me. Images of a recording studio appeared and made itself at home. The interview took place with no distractions, and no music, and kept me entertained with the thoughtful answers to the questions that Juan Gomez asked. The transitions and questions meshed together and allowed for a wonderful, unique, approach to the interview.

The next ripple gave us Nicholas Fuller’s interview with Peter Westermann. The whiteboard images of the visual art pieces really brought out the words that were spoken by Mr. Westermann. The detail in the pieces made the interview itself worth watching. The transitions throughout the interview were smooth and the sound and music added to the overall composition. The advice offered is actually the same advice for anyone interested in any of the Arts, practice, practice, and practice. What a wonderful interview, I thought, as I hid in my tree grove. Doorways seemed to be opening up to me in greater frequency. The next roll was to see Sheryl Thomas and Jason Scarbrough appear before me. I was captivated by the imagery and style of the interview. The music and images that appeared like magic brought a full range of power to the screen. I sat there listening to the answers and finding myself in full agreement to the responses that were offered. It was like déjà vu. I sat by the trees and thought about my day. It was very interesting to visit with each of these people and to see the different styles of interview techniques used to tell a story. Music, pictures, words and even transitions were used to create wonderful transcripts to interview people in different professions. Each of the interviews offered relevant information about the people interviewed, and all the questions were answered fully. The content offered great insight into the world of art and the professionals use of art in their profession. The delivery and artwork allowed seeing what was being discussed and gave way to very nice technical productions. After viewing the

completed interviews, I was happy to go on to my own and enjoyed my trip to reality. Tremors racked my body as the world shifted yet again. I found myself back in my room, feeling a bit distracted by the images that tumbled through my mind. The History of Art book was open on my lap and I was tying to decide if it had all been a dream or if it was real. I looked around my room and all appeared normal. My hand moved to my neck, when I felt the medallion still around my neck. The trip to England, the trip through the afterlife, the trip to ancient cities and the School of Athens seemed dream like to me, yet the necklace led me to believe that I had somehow tapped into a magic portal that took me to other times, places and adventures. I looked at the book on my lap and smiled at all I had experienced. It was an interesting time, and I enjoyed all I learned. I hoped the magic would work again. I snuggled into my bed and went to dreamland feeling happy and content.

Citations Photos and Information 1. Photos of Chester Fort taken by Dalene Davies 1981 while in England visiting her father. 2. Photos of Chester Fort taken by Dalene Davies 1981 while in England visiting her father. 3. Photos of Chester Fort taken by Dalene Davies 1981 while in England visiting her father. 4. Photo of medallion taken by Dalene Davies 112012. 5. Stokstad, M. (2010). Art: A brief history . (4th ed., Vol. FSO PDF, p. 73). London: Laurence King Publishing Ltd DOI: 6.Hunefer. (2011). Journey through the afterlife egyptian book of the dead. Retrieved from bitions/2011/book_of_the_dead.aspx 7. Tour Egypt. (2011). Book of the dead: The judges in anu. Retrieved from 8. Rashad, M. (2011). Egypt gift shop. Retrieved from 9. Deurer. (2010). The egyptian book of the dead. Retrieved from 10. Stokstad, M. (2010). Art: A brief history . (4th ed., Vol. FSO PDF, p. 121). London: Laurence King Publishing Ltd DOI:

11. Stokstad, M. (2010). Art: A brief history . (4th ed., Vol. FSO PDF, p. 157). London: Laurence King Publishing Ltd DOI: 12. Pierce, J. (2003, April 11). Olympia capitol: A history of the building. Retrieved from tput.cfm&File_Id=5443 13 Stokstad, M. (2010). Art: A brief history . (4th ed., Vol. FSO PDF, p. 334-335). London: Laurence King Publishing Ltd DOI: 14. Baleto, A (2012) retrieved from 15. Ashby, G (2012) retrieved from dded&v=XdLaoGBJTeY 16. Gomez, J. (2012) retrieved from 17. Fuller, N. (2012) retrieved from dded&v=HsedIggQsOM 18. Thomas, S. (2012) retrieved from dded&v=Dwd0bUrmK78

Art History  Video  Script   Art  History  Museum  Extra  Credit  Video  Script—Dalene  Davies   Music:  Piano  Ballad   Video  found: 4594e24ADvjVQa1PpcFNiNZfWSRTrui9DAJb6lWX_BVEQeDj4a GI=       Art  History  Museum_  Remember  Remember     We  must  Remember   This  is  a  FSO_  Museum  Art  History  Project  3-­‐8-­‐2012  by  Dalene  Davies    

United States Holocaust Memorial Museum 100 Raoul Wallenberg Place, SW Washington, DC 20024-2126 Main telephone: (202) 488-0400 TTY: (202) 488-0406 National Remembrance Days

April 15-22, 2012

ART is  Beautiful   Art  is  Peaceful   Art  is  Hopeful   Art  is  done  to  Edify   Art  is  done  to  Teach   Art  is  done  to   Remember.   Join  me  now  as  we  Remember  and  learn.   (written  by  Dalene  Davies  3-­‐8-­‐2012)    

            This  movie  was  created  to  remind  us  to  be  vigilant,  strong  and   smart.    Warning:    This  video  contains  graphic  material.     We  must  understand  what  Genocide  is  so  we  can  confront  and   stop  it.    Even  now  Genocide  continues.    It  is  my  hope  that  we   remember  and  confront  all  acts  of  war  against  all  Human   Beings,  regardless  of  color,  sex,  religion,  sexual  orientation,  or   disability.    Join  me  as  we  walk  in  others  shoes  for  a  few   minutes    and  REMEMBER…    

(Words spoken  by  Dalene  Davies)     Remember  Remember      

Imagine a  bright  sunny  day,  clouds  drifting  through  the  air,   sunlight  streaming  down  through  the  trees,  highlighting   warmth,  the  coming  of  spring  and  the  start  of  life.    The  horizon   gives  the  picture  a  delight  in  life,  birds  singing,  and  springtime   joys.                Further  down  the  black  and  white  shot  grows  a  horror   untold  as  the  image  sharpens  to  disclose  the  railway  car   stranded  to  the  side,  white  copses  lying  on  top  of  each  other,   decomposing  in  the  heat.    Some  bodies  are  naked,  the  ribcages   showing  through  the  starved  bodies,  shrunken  and  shrunken   like  forgotten  fruit  sitting  in  a  bowl  on  the  table.            Military  personal  stare  at  the  shocking  scene,  confusion   etching  their  faces.    Arms,  legs,  heads,  feet  mixed  up  together;   the  stench  must  be  awful,  for  no  one  knows  how  long  these   corpses  have  been  here.                      Imagine  for  a  moment  another  scene  flashes  into  view.    The   black  and  white  close  up  shows  desert  in  the  backdrop,  hills  of   dirt  making  mountains  of  soil  to  hide  the  next  horror  to  be   seen.    This  time  the  trees  weave  through  the  bodies,  like   kindling  in  the  woodstove,  branches  and  limbs  mixed  together,   weaving  body  to  wood,  body  to  wood,  body  to  wood,  the   branches  wilting  in  the  heat;  the  shocking  truth  showing  on  the   people  who  discover  the  grizzly  truth  of  the  concentration   camps.                Imagine  yet  another  scene,  flames  leaping  out  at  you.    Books   being  destroyed  while  happy  faces  stare  at  the  blaze,   mesmerized,  ecstatic  to  feel  the  steam  on  the  air,  knowledge   and  history  gone  in  the  flicker  of  the  flame  while  dancing  

flames, black  and  white,  stark,  details  highlighting  the   demoralizing  actions  of  a  government  gone  power  hungry.                Imagine  children,  lined  up  like  cattle,  a  man  looking  at  their   naked  bodies,  poking  their  stomach,  arms  and  legs;  the  terror   and  fright  evident  through  the  camera  that  snaps  the  moment,   forever  while  the  room  stark  except  for  the  doctor’s  table  and   desk  with  chair.                The  shutter  aims  at  the  distress  of  the  children,  mean  while,   the  image  drawn  out  by  the  clothes  on  men  and  the  nudeness   of  the  children.    Each  person  detached  from  the  subject  at   hand,  the  subject  matter  exposed  in  the  faces.                            Another  shot  taken  of  three  skinny  boys,  naked,  stark,  thin   as  rails,  bones  sticking  out  of  their  bodies,  telling  of  horrors  we   can  never  imagine,  nor  want  to  confront,  for  the  truth  is  so   harsh  as  to  punch  the  air  out  of  our  lungs.    The  sharpness  of   breath  and  truth  making  us  want  to  bury  our  heads  and  deny   this  ever  happened.    Ignore  the  starving,  beaten,  hungry   people.    Ignore  the  genocide,  and  the  terror  the  word  evokes.     White  wash  the  actions  of  man  to  man,  for  your  own  sanity,  for   it  will  never  happen  to  you.    You  are  perfect,  loved  and  smart.     You  live  in  a  country  with  rights.    You  have  food  and  a  roof  over   your  head.            Hum…  I  bet  that’s  what  all  the  Jews  said  too,  before  Hitler   came  along.    I  bet  they  thought  it  could  never  happen  to   them…!    

Final Credits  Listed:     Citations Museum Art History Produced By Dalene Davies FSO_ArtHistory_Museum An IMovie Production 3-6-2012 United States Holocaust Memorial Museum 100 Raoul Wallenberg Place, SW Washington, DC 20024-2126 Main telephone: (202) 488-0400 TTY: (202) 488-0406 National Remembrance Days April 15-22, 2012 For educators: For students: The Week to Remember Anyones_Family A Jewish family walking down a street. Kalisz, Poland, May 16, 1935.

— US Holocaust Memorial Museum Bodies One The bodies of former prisoners are piled in the crematorium mortuary in the newly liberated Dachau concentration camp. Dachau, Germany, April 29, 1945. — US Holocaust Memorial Museum Bodies Stacked in Wagon — A wagon is piled high with the bodies of former prisoners in the newly liberated Buchenwald concentration camp. Buchenwald, Germany, April 11-May 1945. — — US Holocaust Memorial Museum

Bodies to Wood_Stacked to Burn — Soviet officials view stacked corpses of victims at the Klooga camp. Due to the rapid advance of Soviet forces, the Germans did not have time to burn the corpses. Klooga, Estonia, 1944.

— Beit Lohamei Haghettaot Stacked Bodies with Wood Corpses of inmates from Klooga concentration camp stacked for burning. Soviet troops discovered the bodies when they liberated the camp. Estonia, September 1944.

— National Archives and Records Administration, College Park, Md. Book Burning At Berlin's Opernplatz, an SA man throws books into the flames at the public burning of books deemed "un-German." Berlin, Germany, May 10, 1933.

— US Holocaust Memorial Museum Boxcar Filled with the Dead U.S. soldiers discovered these boxcars loaded with dead prisoners outside the Dachau camp. Here, they force German boys--believed to be members of the Hitler Youth (HJ)--to confront the atrocity. Dachau, Germany, April 30, 1945.

— National Archives and Records Administration, College Park, Md. Dead Removed from Boxcar Along the route from Iasi to either Calarasi or Podul IIoaei, Romanians remove corpses from a train carrying Jews deported from Iasi following a pogrom. Romania, late June or early July 1941.

— Historisches Archiv der Stadt Koln

More Dead During the deportation of survivors of a pogrom in Iasi to Calarasi or Podul Iloaei, Romanians halt a train to throw off the bodies of those who had died on the way. Romania, July 1941.

— Historisches Archiv der Stadt Koln Children from the Camp Victims of Dr. Josef Mengele's medical experiments at Auschwitz-Birkenau. Poland, 1944.

— National Museum of Auschwitz-Birkenau Babies Being Examined German officers examine Polish children to determine whether they qualify as "Aryan." Poland, wartime.

— US Holocaust Memorial Museum

Mass Grave Dr. Fritz Klein, a former camp doctor who conducted medical experiments on prisoners, stands among corpses in a mass grave. Bergen-Belsen, Germany, after April 15, 1945.

— US Holocaust Memorial Museum Mass Grave 2 A mass grave at the Mauthausen concentration camp. Mauthasuen, Austria, May 10-15, 1945.

— US Holocaust Memorial Museum anyones_Family A Jewish family walking down a street. Kalisz, Poland, May 16, 1935.

— US Holocaust Memorial Museum Behind Barbed Wire Ludwig Meidner, Behind Barbed Wire, not dated. Charcoal, 69.7 x 55.8 cm. — Juedisches Museum der Stadt Frankfurt Corpses Ludwig Meidner, Corpses, not dated. Charcoal and watercolor, 55.5 x 75.8 cm.

— Juedisches Museum der Stadt Frankfurt Massacres in Poland Ludwig Meidner, from the cycle of drawings he called "Massacres in Poland". 1940s.

— Juedisches Museum der Stadt Frankfurt Place cards for Ludwig Meidner Artist and poet Ludwig Meidner (1884-1966) was the foremost and most radical exponent of a second wave of Expressionism, a movement which championed the cause of the exploited and suppressed. Military service during World War I also made Meidner an avowed pacifist. He advanced socialist goals in his 1919 An alle Künstler, Dichter, Musiker (To all Artists, Poets, and Musicians). This work challenged the existing social order and urged artists to become socialists and protect the "greater good." In 1933, Meidner was placed on the list of banned writers and artists. Monographs about Meidner were burned during the Nazi book burnings of 1933. Also in danger because of his Jewishness, Meidner left Germany in 1939, and did not return until 1953.

In the 1940s, in response to the horrors of the Holocaust, Meidner created a cycle of drawings he called "Massacres in Poland" or "Suffering of the Jews in Poland" Final Post Card is of a poem from You_Tube… S3yxpnFU#! (from the video: Hangman by Maurice Orden) "In Germany, they came first for the Communists, And I didnt speak up because I wasnt a Communist; And then they came for the trade unionists, And I didnt speak up because I wasnt a trade unionist; And then they came for the Jews, And I didnt speak up because I wasnt a Jew; And then . . . they came for me . . . And by that time there was no one left to speak up." Martin Niemoller (1892-1984), born in Lippstadt, Germany


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