46 | JUNE 23 • 2022 

fostering at the gardens? 
AS: I see a discussion 
as open-ended, a start of 
a journey really. I can say 
something about how it 
stands straight and tall 
but holds in its hands and 
fingers sharp shattered glass, 
memories and ideas that seem 
to reflect pain on it. 
Another person can 
respond with their 
interpretation. I can’t control 
what they see in it. I think 
that’s the beauty of it. But I 
might learn something from 
them and maybe see it as 
well. We might even change 
each other’s perspective and 
hopefully learn something 
from the other. I think that’s 
the great power of looking 
and hearing.
RF: Just as your joining 
of two trees outside the 
Frankfurt Jewish Museum 
was a provocative gesture, 
the entangling of glass in 
the Meijer Gardens tree 
seems equally compelling, 
particularly in a lush 
outdoor setting. 
AS: That’s very much a 
sculptural kind of decision. 
I always approach my work 
from two directions: one 
is the conceptual, but the 
other is very much about 
the material. I put as much 

importance into each of 
them. I’m not somebody 
whose ideas overcome the 
form because I also very 
much enjoy experiencing 
art through the materials, 
through the human, physical 
connection that it makes. 
A lot of times I feel that 
one can say the material 
overtakes the concept; but 
sometimes those two worlds 
come together and actually 
help each other and make the 
experience of the sculpture 
stronger and bigger.
I feel that happens with the 
combination of the glass and 
the tree. The tree is made out 
of aluminum and, therefore, 
nothing is actually alive or 
flexible or dynamic about it, 
other than the shape. And 
since it took almost the exact 
shape of the fig tree, with the 
surface and shape, maybe 
that’s when the movement 
happens. 
It’s so similar to a real 
tree one almost loses the 
recognition that it’s a dead 
object. The glass, then, 
the way it is trapped in 
the branches, also brings 
questions: What came first, 
was it in the tree from the 
start? Or was it glass that fell 
into the tree? 
Once you see this tree 

up close, you will find that 
the joints between the glass 
and the aluminum cast are 
perfectly made. It almost feels 
as if the glass is cut into the 
branches. Or that over the 
years the tree grew around 
it, the way trees surround 
obstacles, such as a fence.
RF: We have a tree in our 
yard that has grown around 
a metal post. I’ve thought 
about trying to pull it out 
but realize I can’t. The two 
have become one object.
AS: That’s the reason, 
maybe, why this piece makes 
me think about memories 
and about experiences, and 
about catastrophes or even 
intentionally inflicted harm 
the tree may have felt in the 
past. And, as we discussed 
earlier, those human pasts. 
That’s why I think this 
sculpture can function as a 
memorial very well because 
it’s a tree that is there, it’s 
standing, but it doesn’t try to 
hide. It tries to live together 
with the catastrophe that it 
went through or the problem 
that it encountered. 
Even though it’s very 
intimidating, because the 
glass is suspended in a very 
fragile way over our heads, it 
can also be optimistic because 
the tree stands with a lot of 

pride.
RF: Trees also figure 
prominently in certain 
Holocaust memorials 
where a lost community 
is represented by one that 
has been cut down. I have 
also seen photographs of 
trees growing through ruins 
of synagogues in Eastern 
Europe, images that temper 
the optimism of growth 
with an abject sense of loss 
and abandonment. And I 
have already heard some 
comments regarding the 
glass in Ways to Say Goodbye 
as perhaps representing 
Kristallnacht.
AS: Yes, working with 
glass actually started with 
me, interestingly enough, 
through a series of works 
based on Kristallnacht. I 
think that’s why I arrived at 
using glass a few years earlier 
before making this particular 
sculpture. 
I was working a lot with 
shattered windows, breaking 
them, gluing them together 
and then photographing 
them. This was a response 
to art history in a way, being 
about the object and then 
the representation of the 
object. The way I worked 
was that after breaking the 
glass, putting it back together, 

Trees grow tall 
in the ruins of 
many Jewish 
 
synagogues in 
Eastern Europe.

ROB FRANCIOSI

Ways to Say 
Goodbye 
at Meijer 
Gardens

DVIR GALLERY

ARTS&LIFE
SCULPTURE

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