Just like a film or picture can evoke various emotions, monuments, memorials, and public demonstrations also possess this ability. The Holocaust has had a long-lasting effect not only on the affected individuals and future generations but also on cities and countries unrelated to it. In Charleston, South Carolina, the Holocaust Memorial in Marion Square draws both locals and visitors all day long. Nestled amidst the trees is a memorial that serves its purpose and communicates a powerful message which may be overlooked by those who have never been there.
In 1999, architect Jonathon Levi constructed a monument to honor the 19 Holocaust survivors who relocated to South Carolina. The monument consists of three elements designed by Levi to surpass the horrors of the mid-twentieth century. These elements include an assembly area where people gather for the annual Yom Ha Shoah Ceremony, and a sanctuary intended for reflection on transformative events of the twentieth century. Within this sanctuary is a large iron screen measuring 17 feet in height, 60 feet in length, and 25 feet in width. Enclosed by the screen is a 12-foot tallit, which is a Jewish prayer shawl that symbolizes prayer and burial practices. The abandoned tallit represents those who have passed away, while the screen symbolizes prisons, synagogues, or concentration camps.
The Holocaust Memorial in Charleston, South Carolina showcases the iron fence and tallit, with the addition of twenty-four concentration camp locations to the list (Greuber). Among the plaques is one that provides a concise explanation of the tallit’s purpose. It states, “The tallit is a four cornered garment worn by many Jews during prayer. It is customary for Jews to use the tallit as a burial shroud, removing one of its fringes as a symbol of death and mourning.” This practice holds great symbolism, as it is traditional for men (and sometimes women) to be buried with this religious prayer shawl. The inclusion of an abandoned tallit at the memorial signifies the loss of synagogues in Europe and the absence of their communal services.
Despite its physical enormity and just symbolic representation, the memorial can be easily missed if not actively sought. Personally, I only became aware of its existence recently as I would jog past it. The modest and minimalist concrete walls, displaying survivors’ names and locations of concentration camps, demonstrate that its symbolic significance outweighs its physical appearance. The plaques are embedded in the concrete, discreet enough for pedestrians to overlook, yet when the sunlight bathes the area, it brings to light the names of Holocaust victims honored in the memorial.
Displayed at the Holocaust Memorial in Charleston, South Carolina are two of the nineteen last names belonging to survivors of the Holocaust residing in the state. The memorial’s design is not just an architectural marvel; it also serves as a powerful testament to Jonathan Swift’s often-quoted saying: “Vision is the art of seeing what is invisible to others.” Previously, I had viewed the memorial simply as a structure within Charleston’s lively art scene. However, my perspective changed completely after my visit, and I developed a deep appreciation for the memorial’s subtle yet profound message regarding the immense suffering endured by those who were mistreated. Through witnessing their stories without directly observing their physical pain, we are reminded that our generation can empathize with these victims and strive towards preventing any future occurrence of such horrific acts like the Holocaust.
The memorial inscribes the names of the survivors, creating a personal connection to those being honored. Maya Lin’s article, “Making the Memorial,” discusses her role as the designer of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial and addresses criticism she received for lacking a personal touch in representing the incidents. Lin argues that the listing of names was a response to the devastating loss of life in World War I and served as a truthful depiction of war’s reality and the remembrance of those who served and died. This approach not only elicits emotions from the memorial’s audience, but also contrasts with the Holocaust Memorial in Charleston, which chooses to focus on survivors rather than the millions of victims, thereby promoting a sense of optimism.
The living survivors of concentration camps are the only ones who can share their experiences, which will continue to be important for future generations. Even as they pass away, their stories will resonate. During the rededication ceremony in 2015, Joe Engel, a Holocaust survivor, emphasized the significance of never forgetting: “Never again! That’s why we are all here, to remind ourselves, never again” (Boughton). It is crucial for our society to remember the immense suffering endured by survivors and acknowledge the bravery and courage shown by both survivors and those who did not survive.
The plaques at this memorial are a reminder of the perils of prejudice and racism, as well as an expression of our indignation towards the propagation of racism that can ultimately result in genocide. The designer intentionally selected contemplative and mournful plaques to ensure that we do not overlook the enduring presence of prejudice and racism in our society. Despite being constructed nearly two decades ago, the memorial’s message remains pertinent, particularly considering the current debates surrounding police brutality targeting Blacks and bias against Muslims in the United States during 2018.
In their article “The Effects of Public Memorials on Social Memory and Urban Identity,” Ebru Erbas Gurler and Basak Ozer explore the influence of an audience and the location of a memorial. They argue that these memorials not only help tourists bring this mindset back to their own countries, but also inspire them to connect with similar crimes and issues in different societies or contexts today (Gurler et al). The audience for the memorial extends beyond the citizens of Charleston, including tourists and people of all ages and races from around the world. The memorial’s message and purpose can be understood by children of any gender, adults of any race, and elders with any ailments. It is important to reject prejudice and to not be ignorant or forgetful of the atrocities that occurred during World War II.
“The Effects of Public Memorials on Social Memory and Urban Identity” explores how the audience and location of a memorial are significant factors. The authors emphasize that public memorials serve to remember events such as civil war, terrorism, genocide, etc., and reflect the psychological and sociological needs of societies in contemporary times (Gurler et al). According to their analysis, visiting the Holocaust Memorial in Marion Square implies our society’s responsibility to advocate for the previous generation who endured suffering but can no longer share their experiences. It is imperative for us to consider Charleston’s society’s psychological and sociological requirements to maintain constant awareness and ensure remembrance of these past events.
James E. Young’s piece, titled “Memory and Counter-Memory,” explores different design strategies for Holocaust memorials, highlighting their distinctiveness. Young asserts that both the physical monument and its significance are shaped by the particular circumstances surrounding its creation, including political climate, historical context, and aesthetic preferences of the period. The Marion Square memorial triggers visitors’ personal recollections of the Holocaust while also representing the era in which it was built.
The Holocaust events are disheartening and disturbing, with millions of lives lost to brutality. Architects, designers, and artists have created memorials, photographs, and monuments to convey their message to society. The Holocaust Memorial in Marion Square is a symbol that honors the sizable Jewish population in Charleston, South Carolina. It illuminates the survivors’ stories and encourages visitors to always remember the atrocities committed against human life.
