Earlier this week I was finally able to visit the New Britain Museum of American Art. Admittedly, I wasn't expecting much from this museum, but I was actually pleasantly surprised. The staff was amazingly friendly, and the woman working at the front desk was kind enough to give my girlfriend and me free passes as we were inquiring about a student discount. She was also extremely helpful in laying out the museum for us, as well as explaining where we could and could not take photos. While there was some significant construction going on while we were there, it didn't seem to distract from the museum as a whole.

The New Britain Museum of American Art has a distinctly modern look and feel to it, with bright open interiors and lightly painted walls. Like many of the other museums I have visited, the interior helps accent the paintings themselves, rather than draw attention away from them. I was extremely impressed by the large wall sculpture on display over the stairs to the second floor of the museum. It helped blend the less modern paintings on the first floor to the more contemporary paintings on the second floor.

Overall, I enjoyed the second floor of the museum much more than the first floor. Both of the current exhibits were amazing. California in Connecticut: The Joanne and William Rees Collection had some extremely interesting works, including Joan Brown's “At the Beach” which was almost frightening in its appearance. In the New/Now Exhibition, Christopher Hewat's sculptures, mainly tiny brass books, were being displayed. They were certainly impressive to examine in close detail. Unfortunately, pictures were not allowed in either of these two great rooms, so you'll have to use your imagination here!




However, it wasn't until the very last room in the museum that I saw the painting that I knew would be the subject of this paper. Much like Nevinson's “The Wave” from the Yale Center for British Art, the painting seemed to call to me from the other side of the room. Unlike “The Wave” however, which impressed me with its subtle messages and simplicity, this painting seemed to scream for your attention. I'm referring, of course, to Graydon Parrish's “The Cycle of Terror and Tragedy: September 11 2001”




An amazing painting that seems to blend realism with surrealism, “The Cycle of Terror and Tragedy: September 11 2001” was commissioned for the New Britain Museum of American Art specifically. Parrish worked on the painting from 2002 – 2006, rejecting many initial designs in order to make his work as perfect as possible. (Placard 1) Rife with powerful symbolism, “The Cycle” seems to resonate with despair. The two central figures, the twins of Tragedy and Terror, stand screaming towards the Heavens, blinded by fate. (Placard 1) In the background, the image of the burning towers clearly stands amongst the smoke. Equally upsetting, the figures in the foreground stand amongst shredded paper that can be identified as the Constitution of the United States of America. This is a painting of a broken country.


















In the wake of the terrorist attacks on September 11th, Parrish believes that “the country has moved from inconsolable grief, resolute feelings of optimism, and renewed patriotism toward confusion, indifference and, for some, an unexpected apathy.” Indeed, a major theme of this painting seems to be apathy and an inability to see clearly. Of the figures in the foreground, only five have their eyes uncovered. The first is dead, the second is on his deathbed, and has just lifted the veil from his eyes. The other three (the young women in the center of the painting) appear to be the fates, or Moirai, from Greek mythology. Two appear to be crying, while the third screams up towards the twins, seemingly begging them to remove their blinders and see the world around them clearly.













“The Cycle of Terror and Tragedy: September 11 2001” is a painting that is simultaneously incredibly powerful and absolutely terrifying. It seems filled with disturbing images and symbolism. Yet a glimmer of hope flickers in the background. Hidden off in the corner of the painting, a flicker of light glows. Upon closer inspection, the fading shadow of the Statue of Liberty is apparent. And amazingly, even after the tragedy, the torch still glows brightly in the growing darkness.


All work cited from the placard accompanying the painting.