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 https://app.box.com/s/lkse11c42h8ozckmqbtu
Holocaust Extra Credit Video link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EozAacN6xv4&context=C4594e24ADvjV Qa1PpcFNiNZfWSRTrui9DAJb6lWX_BVEQeDj4aGI=
Dalene Davies -‐ 3110 E Chattaroy Rd Trlr24 Chattaroy WA 99003 – 509-‐981-‐3743— email@example.com
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 Chesterâ€™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.
(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.
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: www.laurenceking.com 6.Hunefer. (2011). Journey through the afterlife egyptian book of the dead. Retrieved from http://www.britishmuseum.org/whats_on/archive_exhi bitions/2011/book_of_the_dead.aspx 7. Tour Egypt. (2011). Book of the dead: The judges in anu. Retrieved from http://www.touregypt.net/bod52.htm 8. Rashad, M. (2011). Egypt gift shop. Retrieved from http://www.egyptgiftshop.com/papyrus.html 9. Deurer. (2010). The egyptian book of the dead. Retrieved from http://www.egyptartsite.com/book.html 10. Stokstad, M. (2010). Art: A brief history . (4th ed., Vol. FSO PDF, p. 121). London: Laurence King Publishing Ltd DOI: www.laurenceking.com
11. Stokstad, M. (2010). Art: A brief history . (4th ed., Vol. FSO PDF, p. 157). London: Laurence King Publishing Ltd DOI: www.laurenceking.com 12. Pierce, J. (2003, April 11). Olympia capitol: A history of the building. Retrieved from http://www.historylink.org/index.cfm?DisplayPage=ou 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: www.laurenceking.com 14. Baleto, A (2012) retrieved from http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pn5ILkOsm8E 15. Ashby, G (2012) retrieved from http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embe dded&v=XdLaoGBJTeY 16. Gomez, J. (2012) retrieved from http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WNFq9MdcD1w 17. Fuller, N. (2012) retrieved from http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embe dded&v=HsedIggQsOM 18. Thomas, S. (2012) retrieved from http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embe dded&v=Dwd0bUrmK78
Art History Video Script Art History Museum Extra Credit Video Script—Dalene Davies Music: Piano Ballad Video found: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EozAacN6xv4&context=C 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 http://www.ushmm.org/museum/about/
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 http://www.ushmm.org/museum/about/ For educators: http://www.ushmm.org/education/foreducators/ For students: http://www.ushmm.org/education/foreducators/ The Week to Remember http://www.ushmm.org/remembrance/dor/calendar/ Anyones_Family http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/media_ph.php?MediaId=5000 A Jewish family walking down a street. Kalisz, Poland, May 16, 1935.
— US Holocaust Memorial Museum Bodies One http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/media_ph.php?MediaId=4037 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 — http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/media_ph.php?MediaId=4051 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 — http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/media_ph.php?MediaId=522 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 http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/media_ph.php?MediaId=2009 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 http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/media_ph.php?MediaId=3546 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 http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/media_ph.php?MediaId=1480 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 http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/media_ph.php?MediaId=2351 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 http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/media_ph.php?MediaId=2350 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 http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/media_ph.php?MediaId=2650 Victims of Dr. Josef Mengele's medical experiments at Auschwitz-Birkenau. Poland, 1944.
— National Museum of Auschwitz-Birkenau Babies Being Examined http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/media_ph.php?MediaId=496 German officers examine Polish children to determine whether they qualify as "Aryan." Poland, wartime.
— US Holocaust Memorial Museum
Mass Grave http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/media_ph.php?MediaId=623 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 http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/media_ph.php?MediaId=548 A mass grave at the Mauthausen concentration camp. Mauthasuen, Austria, May 10-15, 1945.
— US Holocaust Memorial Museum anyones_Family http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/media_ph.php?MediaId=5000 A Jewish family walking down a street. Kalisz, Poland, May 16, 1935.
— US Holocaust Memorial Museum Behind Barbed Wire http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/media_ph.php?MediaId=3627 Ludwig Meidner, Behind Barbed Wire, not dated. Charcoal, 69.7 x 55.8 cm. — Juedisches Museum der Stadt Frankfurt Corpses http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/media_ph.php?MediaId=3629 Ludwig Meidner, Corpses, not dated. Charcoal and watercolor, 55.5 x 75.8 cm.
— Juedisches Museum der Stadt Frankfurt Massacres in Poland http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/media_ph.php?MediaId=3630 Ludwig Meidner, from the cycle of drawings he called "Massacres in Poland". 1940s.
— Juedisches Museum der Stadt Frankfurt Place cards for Ludwig Meidner http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/article.php?ModuleId=10005922 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… http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=_ZS 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