As a sculptor, I create works that combine and juxtapose books and plant materials as I explore questions about the life cycle of ideas (examples at www.ryksenn.com/sculpture.htm). I also work part-time as a librarian at Pacific Lutheran University (Tacoma, WA) so that I can pursue my artistic interests. Based on my dual professional interests, the library director asked me to bring in sculptures for display in the library lobby. The large space in front of the library’s espresso stand was offered up to me as well. Little did my colleagues know that I’d recently become interested in installation art and found this to be a perfect opportunity to create a large scale work.

For the uninitiated, installation art seeks to engage the viewer in an interaction with the piece, generally by creating an environment the viewer enters and experiences. Site-specific installations are inextricably linked to the site and thus can never be replicated; a recent noteworthy example is Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s “The Gates” created for New York City’s Central Park.

“Lost Libraries, Lost Memory” is the site-specific installation I exhibited in the library during September and October 2005. The work sought to expose the great number of libraries that have been destroyed during the 20th and 21st centuries by natural causes, such as earthquakes and flooding, and human intervention, including riots and wars. (See www.ryksenn.com/LostLibrariesDone.htm for complete details.)

Idea Formulation
After viewing the installation, people were surprised to learn that I went into the project without a preconceived notion of what I would create. Few realize that art is a combination of concept, research and production.

The more I thought about the fact that the site is a library, that I’m a librarian, and that my job is to support students’ successful research, I realized that the installation was going to have to be about libraries. While this realization was settling in, I began to study the space, searching out its key elements.

Studying the Space

To gain a better sense of the space I measured and photographed all the structural elements and visited the area often. I also used a photo of the space as my Windows desktop background so that I could continually re-visit the space.

The entrance to the 325 square foot area, although well traversed (on the direct route from the lobby to the espresso stand), requires patrons to navigate right or left around a large structural column. The column is two feet in diameter, hexagonal, made of cement and covered in beige wall paper. The column nagged at me—it was in the way, it was large, and it reminded me of the downside of 70’s interior design. The rest of the space, which borders the open computer lab, has no walls, its floor is beige linoleum, and the ceiling consists of off-white acoustical tiles.

Research
While the space’s vastness and beige-ness challenged me, I began to consider what was there to say about libraries that hadn’t already been said? I remembered a new book that had recently been added to our collection, Libricide: The Regime-Sponsored Destruction of Books and Libraries in the Twentieth Century. I retrieved the text, found more sources, and developed my topic. Because of the large number of libraries that have been destroyed throughout the ages, I decided to narrow my scope to the 20th and 21st centuries. I began compiling a list of the libraries, their location, the date and reason for their demise. I imposed parameters about what constituted “destroyed” (60% collection or more was lost), what the cause was (if there was an earthquake followed by a fire, I noted earthquake), how to name them (English translation and simplifying the name for readability).

In my research I identified 125 representative libraries destroyed since 1900. For instance, hurricane Katrina hit just days before I put my installation up and I was able to identify 5 destroyed libraries. As the weeks passed, more libraries were reported destroyed but I did not add them to the installation. Also, I had found the names of two libraries destroyed by last year’s tsunami, but I suspect that number is vastly under reported. Due to the other parameters I used, the list was further reduced.

Concept
As my research progressed, I struggled with how to represent my topic. The troublesome column seemed a huge obstacle to any idea I came up with. And then one day, after saying the word “column” over and over in an effort to possibly find some iteration I could work off of, I had a conceptual breakthrough. I could make the column look more classical, and since columns are often found on monumental buildings (e.g., libraries, government institutions) and hark back to ancient times, I decided I could use them as a metaphor for libraries, history, and foundations of society.

Production

I transformed two existing columns, the one at the entrance and another 23 feet further back, into very classical-looking columns. I created a base and Ionic capital for each, covering those structures with yellowing book pages from paperback Penguin classics left over from my undergraduate work 20 years ago. In the space between the intact, pristine columns, I created a fragmented column in ruins. The destroyed column was surrounded by a scattered sea of books. A dissipating cloud of column silhouettes hung above the ruins. Printed on the silhouettes was the name of the library, its city, country and date destroyed, with the verso stating the way it had been destroyed (war, riot, earthquake, flood, fire, hurricane, tsunami). They twisted and turned with the circulation of air, so at any given time viewers saw either the name or the cause of its destruction. I arranged them from most recent at the entrance to the oldest toward the rear.

I spent 150 hours creating the work. Among the materials I used were: three gallons of white school glue, six tubes of stryofoam glue, nine styrofoam sheets measuring eight feet by four feet, 18 paperbacks, and 500 toothpicks.

Reactions
During the 13 hours it took me to put up the installation, a couple of students approached me and said, “That’s cool. I really like it.” Later, a number of students shared with me that they had never before thought about a contemporary library being destroyed and how that would affect a community or university. When I explained the installation to four passing nursing students, one remarked, “Oh, that’s interesting, I thought it was some sort of anti-war statement.” (In fact, the majority of libraries have been destroyed due to war.) I had a hard time not engaging the student in a lengthy discussion about art making the invisible visible and how that might change one’s perceptions.

My colleagues liked the change in architecture I had accomplished and wanted me to make it permanent. Some remarked that the yellowing book pages I used made the columns look like marble from a distance. They liked that it was library-themed and timely, as news reports were full of the destruction caused by hurricane Katrina. Although the library has rotating exhibits, no one had ever done one on libraries. Many colleagues were also interested in hearing about my conceptualization, research and production process.

The student newspaper ran a lengthy and favorable article about the installation which explained the concept and production. The reporter was profoundly struck by the way that research had informed the artwork.

Epilogue
When I took down the installation, several concerned looking students working at nearby computers observed me warily with sideways glances. I don’t think the students realized that I was the artist and the exhibition had come to an end. Study tables and chairs once again occupy the space. On any given day students use the area to meet in groups and work on their research projects.

Bibliography
Knuth, R. (2003). Libricide: The regime-sponsored destruction of books and libraries in
the twentieth century. Westport, CT: Praeger Publishers.

Raven, J. (Ed.). (2004). Lost libraries: The destruction of great book collections since
antiquity. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.

van der Hoeven, H. & van Albada, J. (1996). Lost memory: Libraries and archives
destroyed in the twentieth century. Retrieved May 6, 2005, from the UNESCO
web site: http://www.unesco.org/webworld/mdm/administ/pdf/LOSTMEMO.PDF.