Weapons of Art and Artifacts of War

A few evenings ago, in conversation with a friend, I was reminded of a piece of art I’d seen on display at SF’s very own DeYoung museum. The piece in question looks like a bronze-cast miniature cathedral, very accurate and beautifully detailed. Upon closer inspection, it comes almost as a shock to the unprepared eye that the roof of the cathedral is made out of bullets, and, slowly, it dawns on you, the viewer, that the whole of it is built out of shells, bullets, parts of rifles and pistols and so on.

The cathedral in question is, in fact, a reliquary. You can check out the artist’s web site here to learn more about him and his work. In the middle of the nave rests a human spine (or human-looking, I haven’t actually investigated the origin of the bones; besides, I’m a fan of ambiguity), and the piece is titled “The Spine and Tooth of Santo Guerro.” Other of the artist’s pieces are reliquaries holding Santo Guerro’s (Spanish for “Saint War” or “Holy War”) “trigger finger,” teeth, ribs, etc. 

So, in the context of his other works, I’m taking the cathedral to be a metaphor for all the nonsensical things people sacrifice and/or build in the name of war: lives, dreams, mausoleums, monuments.

 

Santo Guerro’s cathedral is a monument to death and destruction, created from the very instruments through which death and destruction are brought upon innocents. I wonder if, by choosing to build a cathedral rather than a laic monument, if Al Farrow wasn’t trying to say: Religion breeds war. But that’s just idle speculation…

In a strange twist of thought, talking about Santo Guerro’s cathedral brought about memories of a similar artifact that I had read about on Wikipedia – thanks to the daily featured pages. “La Escopetarra” – a guitar made out of a modified gun, invented by Colombian peace activist César López in 2003. Read Wiki’s whole article here.

Allegedly, the artist attempted to gift one of only five escopetarras to the Dalai Lama, but a member of the Dalai Lama's staff rejected his offer, citing the inappropriateness of giving a weapon as a gift.

Side by side, these two artifacts strike me as opposites stemming from the same source. La Escopetarra is a symbol of hope and transformation: a weapon married with a musical instrument ultimately sheds its bellicose purpose and becomes a vehicle for art or, at least, a symbol of art.

Santo Guerro’s cathedral, born out of empty bullet shells, bears a bleaker message: foolish people erect monuments to their destructive gods, perhaps in an attempt to make amends, but they build on a foundation of violence and destruction.

As an art lover, I take delight in both pieces, different as their message may be. They kindle in me a feeling of wonder at man’s ability for reinvention. You know, swords into ploughshares et al.  And, in the end, what is life if not dichotomy? Santo Guerro and La Escopetarra are two sides of the same coin. We wage wars, we make peace, we build cathedrals, we make love, and then we wage some more war. History is cyclical.