STORIES WE REMEMBER

ESTHER NISENTHALL KRINITZM, 1 of 36 tapestries

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. According to Norman Rockwell’s paintings, tables across the United States will be set with Sunday best linen and china and enough food to satisfy three times the number of actual diners. Family and friends will watch Father carve the turkey before diving headfirst into the ritual of gluttony.  Ah, America! 

Nearly every culture pays homage to the autumn harvest. Most celebrations involve praying to whatever god blesses crops, singing, dancing, and drinking too much — which explains the singing and dancing maybe. It’s all fairly straight forward stuff except for Canada. They celebrate the recovery of King Edward VII ( 1892) who apparently had a serious illness. My husband’s family is Canadian. Never once, in the 50 years I’ve shared Canadian Thanksgiving with them has anyone ever raised a glass to Edward’s good health. 

American Thanksgiving is unique in the interwoven story of starving Pilgrims saved from certain death by friendly Natives. Reminiscing over school years filled with re-enactments and turkeys fashioned from colored paper, I can’t actually imagine why that story holds such a vicelike grip on our collective culture. It destroys the fiction of white supremacy that our nation seems to hold so dear. Does any other single festival/celebration we honor have at its core heroic brown people saving Euro-white Americans? Not that I can think of but tomorrow among the alt-right, in white supremacists households, I’m willing to bet that if asked, everyone can proudly repeat the Pilgrim story.

Story telling is powerful; it’s primal. We grew up with stories, we think in stories. They invoke emotion and inspire us.  They can teach us about hope and they have the power to change lives. One of the loveliest movements in the last few years has been the growth of StoryCorps. Its mission is “to preserve and share humanity’s stories in order to build connections between people and a more just and compassionate world.” 

Becoming part of the StoryCorps legacy is easy. No-one need be famous — no heroics required. Stories are registered and remain part of a permanent record kept in the Library of Congress. 

1 of 36 tapestries in "Art and Remembrance"

Monet’s Waterloo Bridge is the current exhibit in the Grand Gallery at Memorial Art Gallery (Rochester, NY).  It’s a show guaranteed to bring in crowds. After all, who doesn’t at least recognize the name “Monet” even if they aren’t sure why. Art history “isms” may not be general knowledge but most people know the names of the Rock Star artists thanks mostly to calendars and poster reproductions. 

But an interesting thing is happening at MAG. Monet is being upstaged by an un-trained Polish woman. Down the hall from “Bridges” are tapestries made by Esther Nisenthal Krinitz. She was 15 when German Nazi’s invaded the small Polish village where she and her family lived. With needle and thread and fabric, fifty years later, Esther began the task of re-telling her story of love, and loss and how she and her sister became the sole survivors of her family.  Her memories are made human in these 36 works. 

Monet’s bridges — the same scene painted in different shades at different times of day and year.  Interesting in a scholarly, freeze-dried kind of way.  Esther’s “Art and Remembrance” — pulsing with heart. 

Story telling is powerful indeed.