Content Warning: This article contains mentions of the Holocaust, rape, hate crimes and murder. 

The Brandeis Rose Art Museum has continually delivered exhibitions and pieces of the highest caliber to our community. From the works of Andy Warhol to the protection of Jewish legacy achieved with Holocaust art — “Raya Kovensky, Survivor of Kristallnacht” by David Kassan sits in the Photorealism exhibition — the museum has rotated its exhibitions in accordance with the times, both to cater to cultural interests as well as cultural crises.  The current exhibition, “Sanctuary” by Yinka Shonibare, addresses the modern anxiety of societal chaos. In a discussion with the museum staff, the word “symbolism” was often invoked to justify some of the pieces, but some of the pieces simply do not fit the lable of “sanctuary.”  The discussion of what truly are sanctuary spaces and which ones aren’t, is, in itself, the great result of the exhibition — what is the role of art if not to be thought-provoking? In this review, I would like to focus on three models in the exhibition and how they fit into this notion of sanctuary: Notre-Dame de Paris, Covenant House (Casa Alianza) and the United Nations.

Notre-Dame de Paris stands out as the most well-known sanctuary for our generation. Shonibare has created a replica of the church, the structure itself made from wood and the insides decorated with Dutch-bought fabric from West Africa and Indonesia. Besides its precision, the artist’s placement of light within the structure portrays this religious-like light as if created by God on the first day of creation. Notre Dame has been a refuge for victims of war and communities undergoing persecution (e.g., Roma people and Jews), and it served the masses when the plague ravaged Europe. The magnificence of Shonibare’s model and his usage of light is thus reminiscent of Heaven’s light and invokes this sentiment of religious peace that many have sought during France’s most turbulent times. The virtues of God and of the clergymen as enforcers of His mercy are thereby effectively portrayed, religion and politics merging perfectly into one. 

The next notable model in Shonibare’s exhibition is his piece that replicates Covent House (Casa Alianza). Casa Alianza is an initiative that operates across North and Central America that provides refuge to suffering teenagers. Whether it has been by parental neglect, abuse, human trafficking, homelessness or any other dire status, the institution intends to provide these teenagers with a stable home and rehabilitative community engagement. Shonibare’s model is based on its Mexico City branch. The artist’s choice of fabric is what makes this piece thought-provoking. The print depicts black-and-white blurbs in a fabric patterned with yellow and orange. The intentionality behind the shape of the blurb, with its decisive lines that enclose the perimeter, combined with the non-specificity of the shape, conveys a young atmosphere — as if those blurbs had been either created by or are symbolic of those who seek sanctuary in Casa Alianza. The shape is haunting and ghost-like. This sentiment that Shonibare creates, though uncomfortable, is consistent with his description of the sanctuary: these teens are suffering, but nonetheless are protected by the wooden walls of their sanctuary.

The last piece that I must mention is precisely the one that has brought about the discussion of whether or not the exhibition was a true showcase of  “sanctuary”: the United Nations headquarters in New York City. The U.N. was created after World War II to ensure that no such tragedy would happen again. WWI had already shocked global politics by the intercontinental involvement in the conflict and when WWII brought global involvement and immense international death tolls justified because of ideologies held by Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin and military dictators, it prompted the U.N. to be created as a peace initiative, a promise that such a tragedy wouldn’t be inflicted again. For Jewish people globally, the U.N. represented hope, for it would be an effective improvement of the failed Evian Conference, where several countries met to discuss Hitler’s judenrein and to create a plan that would protect the Jewish community. The Evian Conference resulted in no country, with the exception of the Dominican Republic, increasing their intake of Jewish immigrants, which doomed many to the Shoah (Hitler’s genocide) about to come.    

However, as a Jewish person viewing the exhibition, I could not help but feel betrayed by the U.N. being presented as a sanctuary. Even after its creation, the U.N. has observed horrors inflicted upon the Jewish community and has not protected the Jewish people properly. Between the establishment of the State of Israel and the early 1970s, nearly one million Jews (mostly Mizrahim and Sephardim) were forced to flee the Arab countries where they lived, many of whom had their properties detained by the governments, prompting a mass Mizrahi exodus towards Israel and diasporic countries. In the 1970s, anti-Jewish sentiment nurtured by the military junta Derg had ravaged Ethiopian Jewish people (Beta Israelim), with thousands murdered and many more ousted, leading to around 45 thousand Ethiopian Jews immigrating to Israel. The Polish Communist Party raged with claims of Anti-Zionism and the agression prompted a mass exodus of Polish Jewish people, mostly towards Israel in 1968. The pattern of protection being traced back to the State of Israel, officially founded and recognized by the U.N. conference, is a strong argument that the U.N. was able to prevent another Holocaust at the hands of the Nazi party occurring against Jewish people. 

However, what are people  to make of the constant increase in anti-Jewish sentiment? How must we address the U.N. as a sanctuary when its member states allow hatred and violence to constantly foster within them? When a 12-year-old Jewish girl is raped in France while anti-Jewish remarks screamed at her and when Spain has a list of Jewish-owned businesses to target, how are we supposed to trust that Jewish people can feel safe? This Jewish plight of mine is indubitably felt by members of other communities — decades-old anti-Christian oppression in Sudan has escalated to extreme levels,  queer individuals continue to be killed in Iran by the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, anti-Black lynchings continue to take place in Latin America and abroad and much more. Can one claim with confidence that the U.N. prevented tragedies of such scale from occurring when violence spikes to such an extent? Can one defend that the U.N. maintains peace when Russia endlessly tortures Ukraine, when the Israel-Hamas conflict continues or when extremist terrorist organizations are empowered to such an extent that they are able to conduct the 9/11 attacks? A certain distrust towards the U.N. as a perfect sanctuary is well-founded. 

Therefore, Shonibare’s piece is indeed thought-provoking. It is able to convey divine refuge and the warmth of Heaven’s light with its artistic recreation of Notre Dame, as well as portraying how the suffering youth of North and Central America find solace in Casa Alianza. Its inclusion of the U.N. headquarters begs the question of efficacy and brings upon all the anxiety and trauma that have been inflicted upon all communities since its creation. The promise that was once made still stands, but having seen the progression of history, can we comfortably claim that it is as warm a refuge as other sanctuaries? Can we claim that it feels similar to the sentiment of finding refuge under Heaven’s light? These questions of sentimentality are bound to be discussed, and from the discourse, the exhibition proves its success. Art is supposed to entice the mind of its observers while prompting a cognitive-affective response, and Shonibare’s “Sanctuary” exhibition with the Rose Art Museum achieved such a feat and should thus be acknowledged as an immense success.