Linda Stein

Linda Stein Knights: A Sculpture Series after 9/11
Essay by the Artist

		Transition through Sculpture The replay of this day still permeates my psyche, though I could not write my thoughts down until more than three years later. Yet visually and viscerally I began to address it in my art, and could unconsciously relive and relieve the moments when I was vulnerable and distraught. With my hands automatically following orders from the petit tyrant of my brain, I refined another layer of my being: a figurative manifestation of myself--fearless and certain. The part of me that felt powerless and unprotected on that sunny day in September was now fully protected by a warrior-woman, on call to lead in any battle. With this sculpture series, I gradually reinvented the notion of the knight—but not in service of war, not even male; rather, a female bodyguard and protective spirit that cannot or will not completely disclaim insecurity in the face of danger:

A Figure
   Naked   albeit
   Vested in Finery
Defenseless   Armored
Vulnerable   Invincible.

A Monument
   Sewing Template
   Gesture of
Life’s Tease
Random   Precise.

A Warrior
 Still   yet
Commanding
Thrust into Battle
All Fragility   All Strength.

It is this cauldron of opposites, contradictions and internal battles existing in each of us that excites me in my life and in my art. By scrambling expectations (male/female, power/vulnerability, warrior/peacemaker) I attempt in my sculpture to ask questions, agitate, alarm, and arouse a visceral response in myself and in my viewers. With a combination of fused wood, metal, stone and fiber, I arrive at a form that makes me feel safe.

Foreground

Two months after 9/11, I had significant surgery. One night, rising from sleep, I walked to the bathroom, closed the door behind me, and fainted. It was only for a brief moment. I fell straight down, not atilt: simply, quietly, softly onto one knee. No damage. No panic. But as I fell, I was aware, at my core, of being the Twin Tower, as I had seen it neatly disappear in its vertical descent. I came to consciousness, rose slowly, walked back to bed, and slept.

To this day, when my eyes settle on a tall building, I cannot stop my mind from imagining it go poof, melting in a slow downward slump as I gaze, watching it evaporate in air. I have to will myself to stop gravitating back to the moments when the devastating blow was a reality. It is at these times when my sculptural knights provide me the most solace.