The East and West of Zero, 2001, is a smallish diptych around
a large topic. The two panels are hung side by side with a
three-Inch space of separation. One panel is in the coloration
of red, unsettled dust and the other of blue. The conceptual
framework is on “ground zero,” the area of the destroyed
World Trade Center Towers and was focused after a visit to
and around the site. The sense of difference in the east and west
of a crisis is dependent on circumstances of location. Left and
right in ambulation can also figure in this equation. The left
and right of politics, of religion, of psychology, of culture all
refer to opposing polarities and are significant differentiations
of experience. Considering the World Trade Center disaster, I
wondered if having the sight of water for the destroyer or the
destroyed modified their experience of it. Is the codification of
a feeling dependent on the influence of surrounding factors, or
is emotion pure, direct, the one issue at hand? As I think about
it, I’m mystified by the range of feeling emanating from the
disaster. Is it all individual or collective? As the river is to the
east, the blue panel is psychologically passive and cool. As the
congested city is psychologically hot and raging, this is symbolized by the red panel west. The three-inch space between
the panels represents ground zero. It is all positioned in this
way to act as a catalyst for reasoning.
The reasons why the insane illogic of focused harm (using oneself even as the implement) becomes possible is because
of extrahuman considerations. Put religions, or otherworldly
manifestations into play, and logic isn’t an issue. When people
use supernatural deliberations to implement reality, fantastic
imagery from fiction, movies, and religious texts becomes tan-
gible and usable. The banality of religious and extraterrestrial
concerns reveals the same retarded, backward thinking used
in arguments of destructive purpose. Unfortunately we don’t
consider religion, nationalism, heroics, or envy as trivial pursuits and, as a result, these societal fictions do real damage.
The diptych idea has been a continuing intermittent
configuration in my painting quest. Beside the tradition of
adjoined images throughout art history (from the Egyptians
through twentieth century Expressionism), there is for me another incentive, and it stems from the necessities of my form.
In trying to represent the condition of totality, I see the possibility of adding on, or even another totality coexisting simultaneously. (I especially feel this working on a reduced-scale
format.) So when I set up the diptych predicament, I juxtapose
two notions of totality side by side, creating a self-sustaining
dialectic, locking the independent actions in place.

The East and West of Zero, 2001
48” x 123” (121.92 cm x 312.42 cm), oil on cotton, diptych, 2 panels 3” separation
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7