Olivia
Maya Lin was born in 1959, the daughter of two Chinese immigrants (Ross). Her parents had fled China as communists seized control of their home country, settling in Athens, Ohio and earning professorships at Ohio University (Academy of Achievement). Given that both her parents were active in the world of art—her father working as a ceramicist and serving as Dean of the School of Art at Ohio University and her mother composing poems and teaching literature at the university—Maya Lin was introduced to innovation and creativity at a young age (Ross). Lin’s familial background and parental guidance undoubtedly propelled her toward her future career as an artist and architect.
During her undergraduate years at Yale University, Maya Lin tendered a design for the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in a prestigious national competition, a design begun as a class project and ultimately brought to fruition on the northwest corner of our capital’s mall (Ross). It was in 1981, when she was only 21 years old, that Maya Lin revolutionized the art of memorial sculpture (Academy of Achievement). Departing from earlier precedents that extravagantly championed war heroes and ostentatiously glorified a nation’s might, Lin opted for an apolitical design that exuded a simple elegancy. Her proposal called for two 247-foot-long black granite walls, converging at the center to form a deep V-shape (Ross). Etched in the stone are the names of the 58,272 fallen Americans whose deaths had arisen from the remarkably bloody and horribly prolonged war (Goldberger). The design is partially inspired by principles that stem from Lin’s Asian heritage, values such as clarity and simplicity (Ross). As viewers walk along one wall, they fall deeper and deeper into the black hole of death. Yet, upon arriving at the center, they would begin the climb out of misery, scaling the other wall and slowly returning to everyday life (Goldberger). This contemplative experience is added to by the slightly reflective qualities of the rock. As visitors gazes at the stream of names, appearing to continue indefinitely, the reflection of their faces hover behind the deceased. Such an eerie image connects the viewer with the departed, linking both those extant and those extinct in the cyclical process of life and death. As the visitors run their hands across the stone, experiencing the sense of loss tactilely, the body is physically moved by the enormity of the war.
When the design was introduced to the public, deep controversy followed (Academy of Achievement). As with any groundbreaking concept, adherents of tradition decried the change in memorial sculpture. A clamorous league of veterans despaired over Lin’s decision to seat one face of each wall below ground and condemned her choice of a somber-toned stone (Ross). These men feared the memorial lacked common celebratory recollections of war (Ross). Instead of focusing on heroism, exalting intrepid soldiers, the memorial acknowledged to the dark realities of war, specifically the pain of death. Despite the bitter criticism of Lin that was still present at the time of the memorial’s dedication on Veterans’ Day in 1982, the sculpture drew numerous visitors and served as a keystone project in the progression of memorial design (Ross). No longer was a memorial expected to gloss over sickening violence or ennoble ferocity; Lin suggests with her work that a memorial’s true purpose is honoring those who sacrificed everything for the good of their country.
Although the Vietnam Veterans Memorial marked Maya Lin’s rise to fame and continues to be one of her most celebrated contributions to the fabric of American art, her potential as an artist did not diminish after her early success. In 1989, Maya Lin’s design for the Civil Rights Memorial was realized in Montgomery, Alabama (Ross). The inspirational words from Martin Luther King’s “I have a dream” speech rang in Lin’s ears as she composed her design, specifically the provocative passage the man paraphrased from the Bible: "We are not satisfied and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream” (Ross). From these words, Lin imagined a new style of sculpture, one that would become known as a water table (Ross). Composed of black granite, rapidly becoming the signature medium of the artist, the water table consists of a flat slab of rock over which a thin layer of water floats (Southern Poverty Law Center). Etched into the face of this table in a clockwise fashion is the historical progression of Civil Rights victories and tragedies, beginning with the Supreme Court’s Brown v. Board ruling in 1954 and concluding with the lamentable assassination of Martin Luther King in 1968 (Southern Poverty Law Center). Presiding over the table is a circular wall that exhibits King’s influential quote (Ross). Like with the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, visitors are encouraged to run their fingers over the engravings, dip their fingers into the water. The name of the sculpture type, referencing a table, evokes a sense of community and togetherness, a gathering of family or like minds (Yale University). Lin intended for people to assemble around her interactive memorial and absorb, as a community, the tragedies and triumphs of the continuing fight against bigotry.
In 1989, on the 20th anniversary of coeducation at Yale University, college president Benno Schmidt charged female graduate Maya Lin with the task of honoring women graduates (Yale University). Lin responded to this challenge with a water table much like the one she designed for Montgomery, but instead of focusing on the injustices of racial prejudice, Lin’s Women’s Table contemplates the longstanding bias against the female sex. Despite its founding in 1701, Yale only began to admit women into classes in the embarrassingly late date of 1969 (Yale University). Engraved on the table are the numbers of female students in attendance since the establishment of the college (Yale University). An off-centered crevice on the otherwise flat surface of the table marks the beginning of the progression of numbers as well as the bubbling source of the water that glazes the table. Spiraling away from this hollow is a shockingly protracted series of zeros. Then after 268 zeros, we reach the first year of Yale’s coeducation, and the numbers continue to grow until 1993, when the sculpture was completed. Yet the spiraling nature of the engraving leaves the future open (Ross). Perhaps, one day, we will discover gender equality.
In addition to her more well-known work as a memorial sculptor, Maya Lin has been an active participant in the movement toward landscape art. The artist was recruited by the University of Michigan to design a piece that would consume a 90-foot by 90-foot square space before the FXB Aerospace Engineering building on campus (University of Michigan). Lin, in an effort to comprehend her task, attended classes on aerodynamics and fluid dynamics (Ross). This inspired an avid interest in understanding the relationship between art and the natural landscape (University of Michigan). The product of her meditations was Wave Field, a manmade alteration of the landscape where grass-covered mounds mimic a naturally occurring wave pattern (University of Michigan). Lin cites the Native American burial mounds surrounding the Ohio home where she was raised as inspiration, an early example of man’s will to alter his environment (Ross). Although not overwhelmingly large, the oscillations built into the landscape create a sense of wonder. The shadows from the sun ensure that the mounds’ consistently appear changed throughout the day (University of Michigan). Like in her memorials, Lin seeks to understand humans’ place in the world through her landscape art, pursuing an interaction between manmade and natural beauty.
Maya Lin’s profound career has challenged the boundaries imposed by traditional forms of art. The artist has drawn upon her heritage and the inspiration from the world around her, melding these influences into a slice of modern design. But her career is long from over. Maya Lin continues to create masterpieces today. And as a public, all we can do is eagerly anticipate the next design that emerges from her studio.
Works Cited
“Civil Rights Memorial.” 2013. Southern Poverty Law Center. 30 April 2013.
< http://www.splcenter.org/civil-rights-memorial>.
Goldberger, Paul. “Reflected Grief.” April 2012. Vanity Fair. 30 April 2013.
< http://www.vanityfair.com/politics/2012/04/maya-lin-vietnam-wall-memorial>.
“Maya Lin.” 27 October 2010. Academy of Achievement. 30 April 2013.
< http://www.achievement.org/autodoc/page/lin0bio-1>.
“President’s Advisory Committee on Public Art.” 2010. University of Michigan. 30 April 2013.
<http://public-art.umich.edu/the_collection/campus/north/38>.
Ross, Alex. “Maya Lin.” 2002. Stanford Presidential Lectures and Symposia in the Humanities and Arts. 30 April 2013.
< http://prelectur.stanford.edu/lecturers/lin/>.
“Women at Yale.” Yale. 30 April 2013.
< http://www.yale.edu/womenatyale/WomensTable.html>.
Images Cited
Goldberger, Paul. “Reflected Grief.” April 2012. Vanity Fair. 30 April 2013.
< http://www.vanityfair.com/politics/2012/04/maya-lin-vietnam-wall-memorial>.
“Maya Lin.” 27 October 2010. Academy of Achievement. 30 April 2013.
< http://www.achievement.org/autodoc/page/lin0bio-1>.
“President’s Advisory Committee on Public Art.” 2010. University of Michigan. 30 April 2013.
<http://public-art.umich.edu/the_collection/campus/north/38>.
Ross, Alex. “Maya Lin.” 2002. Stanford Presidential Lectures and Symposia in the Humanities and Arts. 30 April 2013.
< http://prelectur.stanford.edu/lecturers/lin/>.
“Women at Yale.” Yale. 30 April 2013.
< http://www.yale.edu/womenatyale/WomensTable.html>.
Maya Lin was born in 1959, the daughter of two Chinese immigrants (Ross). Her parents had fled China as communists seized control of their home country, settling in Athens, Ohio and earning professorships at Ohio University (Academy of Achievement). Given that both her parents were active in the world of art—her father working as a ceramicist and serving as Dean of the School of Art at Ohio University and her mother composing poems and teaching literature at the university—Maya Lin was introduced to innovation and creativity at a young age (Ross). Lin’s familial background and parental guidance undoubtedly propelled her toward her future career as an artist and architect.
During her undergraduate years at Yale University, Maya Lin tendered a design for the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in a prestigious national competition, a design begun as a class project and ultimately brought to fruition on the northwest corner of our capital’s mall (Ross). It was in 1981, when she was only 21 years old, that Maya Lin revolutionized the art of memorial sculpture (Academy of Achievement). Departing from earlier precedents that extravagantly championed war heroes and ostentatiously glorified a nation’s might, Lin opted for an apolitical design that exuded a simple elegancy. Her proposal called for two 247-foot-long black granite walls, converging at the center to form a deep V-shape (Ross). Etched in the stone are the names of the 58,272 fallen Americans whose deaths had arisen from the remarkably bloody and horribly prolonged war (Goldberger). The design is partially inspired by principles that stem from Lin’s Asian heritage, values such as clarity and simplicity (Ross). As viewers walk along one wall, they fall deeper and deeper into the black hole of death. Yet, upon arriving at the center, they would begin the climb out of misery, scaling the other wall and slowly returning to everyday life (Goldberger). This contemplative experience is added to by the slightly reflective qualities of the rock. As visitors gazes at the stream of names, appearing to continue indefinitely, the reflection of their faces hover behind the deceased. Such an eerie image connects the viewer with the departed, linking both those extant and those extinct in the cyclical process of life and death. As the visitors run their hands across the stone, experiencing the sense of loss tactilely, the body is physically moved by the enormity of the war.
When the design was introduced to the public, deep controversy followed (Academy of Achievement). As with any groundbreaking concept, adherents of tradition decried the change in memorial sculpture. A clamorous league of veterans despaired over Lin’s decision to seat one face of each wall below ground and condemned her choice of a somber-toned stone (Ross). These men feared the memorial lacked common celebratory recollections of war (Ross). Instead of focusing on heroism, exalting intrepid soldiers, the memorial acknowledged to the dark realities of war, specifically the pain of death. Despite the bitter criticism of Lin that was still present at the time of the memorial’s dedication on Veterans’ Day in 1982, the sculpture drew numerous visitors and served as a keystone project in the progression of memorial design (Ross). No longer was a memorial expected to gloss over sickening violence or ennoble ferocity; Lin suggests with her work that a memorial’s true purpose is honoring those who sacrificed everything for the good of their country.
Although the Vietnam Veterans Memorial marked Maya Lin’s rise to fame and continues to be one of her most celebrated contributions to the fabric of American art, her potential as an artist did not diminish after her early success. In 1989, Maya Lin’s design for the Civil Rights Memorial was realized in Montgomery, Alabama (Ross). The inspirational words from Martin Luther King’s “I have a dream” speech rang in Lin’s ears as she composed her design, specifically the provocative passage the man paraphrased from the Bible: "We are not satisfied and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream” (Ross). From these words, Lin imagined a new style of sculpture, one that would become known as a water table (Ross). Composed of black granite, rapidly becoming the signature medium of the artist, the water table consists of a flat slab of rock over which a thin layer of water floats (Southern Poverty Law Center). Etched into the face of this table in a clockwise fashion is the historical progression of Civil Rights victories and tragedies, beginning with the Supreme Court’s Brown v. Board ruling in 1954 and concluding with the lamentable assassination of Martin Luther King in 1968 (Southern Poverty Law Center). Presiding over the table is a circular wall that exhibits King’s influential quote (Ross). Like with the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, visitors are encouraged to run their fingers over the engravings, dip their fingers into the water. The name of the sculpture type, referencing a table, evokes a sense of community and togetherness, a gathering of family or like minds (Yale University). Lin intended for people to assemble around her interactive memorial and absorb, as a community, the tragedies and triumphs of the continuing fight against bigotry.
In 1989, on the 20th anniversary of coeducation at Yale University, college president Benno Schmidt charged female graduate Maya Lin with the task of honoring women graduates (Yale University). Lin responded to this challenge with a water table much like the one she designed for Montgomery, but instead of focusing on the injustices of racial prejudice, Lin’s Women’s Table contemplates the longstanding bias against the female sex. Despite its founding in 1701, Yale only began to admit women into classes in the embarrassingly late date of 1969 (Yale University). Engraved on the table are the numbers of female students in attendance since the establishment of the college (Yale University). An off-centered crevice on the otherwise flat surface of the table marks the beginning of the progression of numbers as well as the bubbling source of the water that glazes the table. Spiraling away from this hollow is a shockingly protracted series of zeros. Then after 268 zeros, we reach the first year of Yale’s coeducation, and the numbers continue to grow until 1993, when the sculpture was completed. Yet the spiraling nature of the engraving leaves the future open (Ross). Perhaps, one day, we will discover gender equality.
In addition to her more well-known work as a memorial sculptor, Maya Lin has been an active participant in the movement toward landscape art. The artist was recruited by the University of Michigan to design a piece that would consume a 90-foot by 90-foot square space before the FXB Aerospace Engineering building on campus (University of Michigan). Lin, in an effort to comprehend her task, attended classes on aerodynamics and fluid dynamics (Ross). This inspired an avid interest in understanding the relationship between art and the natural landscape (University of Michigan). The product of her meditations was Wave Field, a manmade alteration of the landscape where grass-covered mounds mimic a naturally occurring wave pattern (University of Michigan). Lin cites the Native American burial mounds surrounding the Ohio home where she was raised as inspiration, an early example of man’s will to alter his environment (Ross). Although not overwhelmingly large, the oscillations built into the landscape create a sense of wonder. The shadows from the sun ensure that the mounds’ consistently appear changed throughout the day (University of Michigan). Like in her memorials, Lin seeks to understand humans’ place in the world through her landscape art, pursuing an interaction between manmade and natural beauty.
Maya Lin’s profound career has challenged the boundaries imposed by traditional forms of art. The artist has drawn upon her heritage and the inspiration from the world around her, melding these influences into a slice of modern design. But her career is long from over. Maya Lin continues to create masterpieces today. And as a public, all we can do is eagerly anticipate the next design that emerges from her studio.
Works Cited
“Civil Rights Memorial.” 2013. Southern Poverty Law Center. 30 April 2013.
< http://www.splcenter.org/civil-rights-memorial>.
Goldberger, Paul. “Reflected Grief.” April 2012. Vanity Fair. 30 April 2013.
< http://www.vanityfair.com/politics/2012/04/maya-lin-vietnam-wall-memorial>.
“Maya Lin.” 27 October 2010. Academy of Achievement. 30 April 2013.
< http://www.achievement.org/autodoc/page/lin0bio-1>.
“President’s Advisory Committee on Public Art.” 2010. University of Michigan. 30 April 2013.
<http://public-art.umich.edu/the_collection/campus/north/38>.
Ross, Alex. “Maya Lin.” 2002. Stanford Presidential Lectures and Symposia in the Humanities and Arts. 30 April 2013.
< http://prelectur.stanford.edu/lecturers/lin/>.
“Women at Yale.” Yale. 30 April 2013.
< http://www.yale.edu/womenatyale/WomensTable.html>.
Images Cited
Goldberger, Paul. “Reflected Grief.” April 2012. Vanity Fair. 30 April 2013.
< http://www.vanityfair.com/politics/2012/04/maya-lin-vietnam-wall-memorial>.
“Maya Lin.” 27 October 2010. Academy of Achievement. 30 April 2013.
< http://www.achievement.org/autodoc/page/lin0bio-1>.
“President’s Advisory Committee on Public Art.” 2010. University of Michigan. 30 April 2013.
<http://public-art.umich.edu/the_collection/campus/north/38>.
Ross, Alex. “Maya Lin.” 2002. Stanford Presidential Lectures and Symposia in the Humanities and Arts. 30 April 2013.
< http://prelectur.stanford.edu/lecturers/lin/>.
“Women at Yale.” Yale. 30 April 2013.
< http://www.yale.edu/womenatyale/WomensTable.html>.