At the Catholic university, a speaker clicks through slide after slide of barbed wire, cattle-chute checkpoints, and walls. His mantra is occupation. What threatens the Christians, he concludes, is what threatens Palestinians. A woman stands up. I wanted to let everyone know, she says, that this talk was FULL of SPIN. (I can’t see her, she’s behind me, I’m afraid to look back.) The truth is the OPPOSITE. (My heart goes out to her, standing in the heart of another country.) The reason for the wall was that people were being ATTACKED, she says. BY TERRORISTS. After all, the Arabs sold the land, it was too much trouble. (I shrink back in my seat, shake my head.) And at a Catholic school, you should KNOW what the Church has done, especially during World War II! Then a man gets up (I can’t see him, he’s behind me, I’m afraid to look back). The Jews bought a tiny bit of land, but the rest, the rest was STOLEN! (My heart goes out to him, standing in the heart of another country.) BUT! he says. THEY did not buy everything, even if they buy Congress! (I shrink again.) She says, YOU have FOURTEEN ARAB countries! Can’t we have just ONE? THEY should take you in. He says, but this is OUR land! Why should we have to leave? Because EUROPE took it from us? That is why we fight! (What about peace? someone mumbles.) He says, how can you negotiate over a pizza when one side continues to EAT! She says, how can you negotiate over a pizza when one side is trying to STAB you with knives! It goes on like this for a long time. Years, decades, generations. I sit like a child at the table, watch parents grip their utensils, spit words like shrapnel. I hate
how I love them.
Ashamed, I look down, unable
to bury the hot metal.
Aaron (After the Bombing)
My flesh has swallowed an entire dream of heaven:
I’ve got a dozen screws floating around my spine,
casings & shells, mortar & construction nails
holding nothing forever. For legs I wheel
this chair. My body’s locked in the pitying gaze
of strangers, family, in the moment he froze
our fates together. I recall trying to rise,
slipping as if on ice, unseeing my eyes,
my father’s voice screaming something—what was my name—
but I could see only his mouth moving, the pain
in his eyes. I could not feel a thing. Every day
I try to stand again. Sometimes I’m filled with joy,
sometimes I want to die. Myself I devour.
For his wish to be remembered, I’m raked with fire.
Philip Metres has written ten books, including Shrapnel Maps (Copper Canyon 2020), Sand Opera (Alice James 2015), and The Sound of Listening: Poetry as Refuge and Resistance (2018), among others. Awarded the Lannan Fellowship, three Arab American Book Awards, two NEAs, and the Adrienne Rich Award, he is professor of English and director of the Peace, Justice, and Human Rights program at John Carroll University.
This week, artist studios in Harlem, Tennessee, Philadelphia, and Brooklyn.
The museum enlisted the help of Linda Bove, the first Deaf actor to be part of Sesame Street’s recurring cast, to help bring artworks from the collection to a Deaf audience.
Students in this two-year graduate program in New York enjoy access to the Hessel Museum of Art, the CCS Bard Library and Archives, and opportunities to curate in practice.
The student screening of Till emphasized an important aim of the film: to educate young people about the fierce love and activism of Mamie Till-Mobley, which played no small part in igniting the Civil Rights Movement.
A painting now exhibited at the Nasjonalmuseet captures Judith and her maidservant in the moment after slaying Holofernes and before their escape, as though veritably peering out of frame.
This exhibition marks 20 years of Arrechea’s solo career with watercolors, sculptures, and multimedia installations created specifically for ArtYard in Frenchtown, New Jersey.
The statue was found in a town square in Philippi and adorned a building that may have been a public fountain in the Byzantine period.
In an age dominated by narcissism and material excess, Acheson’s anti-heroic position as an admirer of other artists should be something that we reflect upon.
The New York-based, globally linked, and practice-focused curatorial program for professionals at the School of Visual Arts offers the opportunity to create three funded exhibitions.
Inspired by Charles Babbage’s idea of air as “atmospheric memory,” In the Air considers air as a common space that belongs to and affects the whole of humanity.
The episode focused on Western museums’ hesitant repatriation efforts and auction houses’ questionable consignment practices.
The committee’s main responsibilities will be to shape policy goals, stimulate arts philanthropy, and advocate for the expansion of federal backing of the cultural sector.