The WWII Mitsubishi A6M Zero warplane currently being assembled in the Cooley Gallery. Photo Courtesy of Isabel Udo.
A Japanese warplane has recently taken up residence in the Cooley Gallery at the Reed Library, and is scheduled to be burned on February 19. It is the artistic vision of Katsushige Nakahashi, a professor of sculpture at the Kyoto City University of the Arts in Japan. The project was generated as a reaction to Japanese denial of WWII atrocities, particularly the use of the Zero by kamikaze pilots in the Imperial Japanese Navy. The WWII Mitsubishi A6M Zero warplane is being constructed according to Nakahashi’s instructions in the hopes that it acts as a “vehicle for communal memory.” Despite following the same set of instructions since 1999, the project’s international construction has resulted in a slightly different Zero each time. Visitors to the gallery are encouraged to participate in the construction process. For Nakahashi, “the process is part of the work,” as the cooperative construction of the plane by a community isan experience intended to encourage contemplation. The Zero Project culminates in a burning of the plane. As Nakahashi explains, “the work is completed only at the point when it is reduced to ashes.” Past planes have always been carried out of the museum or gallery in which they were created and ceremoniously set on fire as an act of catharsis.
This is the first time the Zero has been constructed since 2009, and the first time the plane has been constructed without Nakahashi’s direct supervision. He trusted the Reed community to begin the project themselves. Nakahashi later visited Reed, teaching six classes in the three days he was here.
Nakahashi explains that the project is, like war, both time consuming and wasteful. The burning of the plane is a way to symbolize how futile war is. There is also a sense of renewal and revitalization in the project. Nakahashi believes that the ashes and the growth of new grass from the charred ground are just as much a part of the artwork as the piece itself. Indeed, Nakahashi believes that nature’s healing process should be mirrored in the feeling of the community once the Zero is gone.
Controversy arose over concerns that Reed’s administration would not allow the plane to be burned on the college’s lawns. A petition by Connor Stockton—already signed by many students—posits that it would be “an injustice to the piece’s integrity” to not burn the grass. The scorch marks left in the grass are a part of the larger process. The petition encourages Reed to view this as an opportunity “to continue to be trailblazers among academic institutions” and to prevent the onset of stasis within the community.
Students like Jade Novarino, Estelle Cilman, and Harrison Martin worked with Stephanie Snyder, curator and director of the gallery, to find a solution. Snyder described Stockton’s petition as “eloquent,” and expressed gratitude to all the students who worked on the project. For her, the construction of the piece was, at first a very personal one, as each person worked on their own part of the plane. However, as time went on, the pieces began to come together to form the plane’s structure. It was then that she said to have felt the greatest sense of community from the student body during this process. The level of engagement from the students has far exceeded her expectations and she has found the process to be transformative.
Snyder and others addressed safety concerns by talking to chemistry professor, Sarah Kliegman, about the burning’s possible effect on air quality. The plane is non-toxic and contains no heavy metals. Kliegman recommended the plane be burned at as high a heat as possible to minimize the potentially harmful effects. One possible suggestion was that the plane be stuffed with Balsa wood or even newspaper as kindling. Ultimately, President John Kroger visited the gallery and spoke with Snyder. After discussing the significance of having the Zero go up in flames, Kroger decided that the piece could be incinerated on campus.
It is important to Nakahashi that the plane be burned on a day that is significant to Japan or to the nation where the plane is constructed; Friday February 19 is both. On that day in 1942, President Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066, interning over 100,000 Americans of Japanese descent. The order is especially notable in Portland, as the Expo Center was one of those internment camps. With these close ties to the trauma and violence of WWII, it seems all the more necessary to have, in Portland, a “return to zero”.
For those interested in seeing the Zero piece, a gift of the Peter Norton Collection, you can visit the Cooley Gallery any day of the week (from noon to 5 p.m.), except for Mondays, until February 14.