Patricia A. Teter-Schneider is a provenance researcher who has worked with the Getty Provenance Index and the Monuments Men Foundation for the Preservation of Art. She will begin working with the Smithsonian Institutions Nazi-Era Provenance Research Project in fall 2008. David McCarthy is the author of The Nude in American Painting, 1950 to 1980 (1998), Pop Art (2000), and H. C. Westermann at War: Art and Manhood in Cold War America (2004). He holds the James F. Ruffin Chair of Art and Archaeology at Rhodes College and is currently researching modern American artists opposition to imperialism and war. Amanda Potter is the educator for public and university programs at the Wexner Center for the Arts in Columbus, Ohio. She received her masters degree in art history from Williams College in 2006. Jane Hammond has exhibited widely throughout the United States and Europe, and her work is held in more than fifty public collections. She lives in New York City, where she is represented by Galerie Lelong.
Drawing Flak: George Biddle and the Army's World War II Art Unit Christopher Hanson
Collecting Leaves, Assembling Memory: Jane Hammonds Fallen and the Function of War Memorials Amanda Potter
Archives of Americ an Art Journ al 47: 34
MASKS MUTILATION +MODERNITY

Dav i d M. L u b i n

ANNA COLEMAN LADD + THE FIRST WORLD WAR
Anna Coleman Ladd has slowly been attracting the attention of historians, but not for the neoclassical and art deco sculpture to which she devoted most of her career. She is instead being remembered for the lightweight face masks she devised for disfigured veterans of trench warfare during World War I.
These prosthetic coverings, made of thin, hand-painted galvanized copper, were intended to provide some semblance of normality to wounded military patients whose maimed faces were beyond the help of newly invented methods of reconstructive surgery. Aware of the profound psychological pain the disfigured endured, Ladd
A soldier without (left) and with (right) a portrait mask, ca. 19141919. Preceding Page: Casts of mutilated faces and masks (detail); Anna Coleman Ladd.
founded the American Red Cross Studio for Portrait Masks for Mutilated Soldiers, which opened its doors on the Left Bank of Paris in spring 1918. The masks themselves, like the men who wore them, are no longer extant, but archival photographs, a brief promotional film, and descriptions by journalists, medical workers, and Ladd herself show what they looked like and how they were worn. 1 Intriguingly, Ladds humanitarian effort to provide badly wounded soldiers with prosthetic masks coincided with an artistic and philosophic fascination with masks that had been mounting in Western Europe and the United States since she came of age in the 1890s. She would have been familiar with the dandyism of such artists and writers as Algernon Charles Swinburne, James McNeill Whistler, and Oscar Wilde, who advocated, and in their own lives embodied, artificiality in personal appearance. Wilde, for instance, praised the truth of masks, claiming that a mask tells us more than a face and Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth. Elsewhere, he announced, The

masks and fitting them onto their recipients, three uniformed, medalbearing soldiers. One, wearing a prosthetic chin, jauntily puffs on a cigarette, demonstrating the versatility of the contraption strapped to his face. Another, whose wound is not identifiable, sports a classically rugged jaw. An assistant with a fine-tipped paintbrush fills in the false mustache that artfully disguises the seam between mask and face. The third soldier looks perfectly normal until his mask is removed for minor adjustments, revealing the absence of a nose. An instant later the mask is reattached, held in place by eyeglass frames secured around his ears, and he resumes his conventionaly handsome appearance. Ladd beams with maternal benevolence. A masking was considered successful when the patient could walk down a Parisian boulevard without being noticed. Earlier, after their multiple surgeries were complete but before they were fitted with masks, the men had gone on supervised forays into the city, accompanied by their nurses, only to find that onlookers gawked at them and sometimes even fainted. The men called this the Medusa effect. The masks allowed them to regain some measure of the social visibility they had forfeited because of their ghastly wounds. In an interview after the war, Ladd asserted that many of these soldiers have returned back to wife, children, or family, slipping back into their former places in society, able to work and derive a bit of happiness out of life. 19 She alludes to appreciative letters she received from some of the men and their grateful wives. We dont know what became of the masked men over the course of their lifetimes. It is easy to imagine, though, that their galvanized copper faces, painted eyes, and frozen expression elicited, in their own way, as much despair from loved ones and revulsion from strangers as the ravaged flesh they were meant to hide. Nathaniel Hawthornes short story The Ministers Black Veil,
Soldier with mutilated chin (above) and wearing a prosthesis (below), ca. 1919.
American Red Cross poster by Alonzo Earl Foringer, The Greatest Mother in the World, 1918; Anna Coleman Ladd, The Idol, 1916.

Writing in the kind of composition notebooks familiar to students everywhere, Pippin carefully lettered first-person narratives of his life as a soldier.
ambivalence about commanding black troops in combat. 7 As Pippin described at length, the 369th spent twenty days of every month under fire, periodically foregoing the marginal security of the trenches to hunt down snipers in no mans landa task well understood to be a suicide mission. For their distinguished servicethe longest of any U.S. troops in the warthe entire regiment was awarded the Croix de Guerre by France in 1919. Pippin was also retroactively awarded a Purple Heart by the United States in 1945. Ostensibly, Pippins accounts of his wartime experiences are so straightforward that they have been read as simple war diaries, a characterization that belies their intriguing attributes and anomlies.8 In fact, the texts prompt as many questions as they answer, especially regarding their authors intentions and audience: for whom did Pippin write these stories and why? While an apparently casual attitude toward documentation on the part of the artist and his agent, Robert Carlen, has made a definitive answer to such musings unlikely, there are some clues available in the manuscripts themselves. Pippin constructed each of his World War I memoirs as a continuous narrative. The long sentences, infrequent corrections, and relentless focus on advancing the story suggest that he worked out initial drafts elsewhere, yet those preliminary sources have not survived. Among them would likely have been an actual diary recording the precise details of his deployment (for example, the exact times of his arrivals and departures) that are in his accounts. Selden Rodman, the artists first biographer, argued that it is the drawings that distinguish Pippins memoirs from hundreds of journals and war letters from the pens of equally honest, uncomplicated, and illiterate soldiersa statement apt in ways Rodman may not have realized. 9 That Pippin illustrated his story suggests a certain ambition for his project that transcends the merely personal. He accorded each drawing its own page, and he wrote captions and chose subjects that expanded ideas in his text, all characteristics more typical of published accounts than of private ones. Compounding this effect is the marked absence of self-portraits (even if his captions imply otherwise) and the occasional, apostrophic use of the phrase Dear Reader, two conventions that introduce some distance between the author and his audience. 10 It also appears that Pippin enhanced his recollections with information seemingly beyond the ken of a doughboy in the trenches and presumably the product of his later research. His account of a shell attack, for example, notes:

S. Lane Faison, Jr. + Art Under the Shadow of the Swastika
Nancy h. Yeide + Pat r i c i a A. T e t e r - S c h n e i d e r
Shortly after the end of World War II, the exhibition Paintings Looted from Holland began a tour of thirteen United States cities, including Williamstown, Massachusetts.There, for a mere two weeks in 1947, paintings by Dutch masters were shown at the Lawrence Art Museum at Williams College.1 The small venue and the installations brief duration might seem odd when compared to current standards for international loan exhibitions. However, the purpose of this particular show was somewhat unusual: to honor the men and women whose efforts facilitated the paintings return and restitution to the Netherlands. The exhibition traveled to centers that lent personnel to that branch of the Army.most intimately connected with the problem of taking care of works of art in war areas, the Monuments, Fine Arts and Archives Branch (MFA&A).2
S. Lane Faison, Jr., reading Recognition Journal.
S. Lane Faison, Jr. (third from left) with students in front of Lawrence Hall.
Among staff being honored was S. Lane Faison, Jr. (19072006), chairman of the art history department at Williams and, from 1948, director of the Lawrence Art Museum.3 The MFA&A and its allied intelligence counterpart, the Art Looting Investigation Unit (ALIU), were a small group of men and women recruited to protect, locate, investigate, catalogue, and repatriate an unprecedented number of art works systematically looted between 1933 and 1945 by the Third Reich.4 Staffed by some of Americas most elite curators and scholars, the so-called Monuments Men executed in a remarkably short time a program of retrieval and restitution on a scale the world had never seen. The confiscations, which dislocated millions of objects, were carefully planned and closely linked to Nazi ideology and Hitlers persecution and murder of Jews, minorities, and foreigners. As propagandists and party officials geared up for war during the thirties, the party waged a campaign inside Germany against what it infamously called degenerate modern art, astonishing not only German curators but observers around the world. In these years, avant-garde artists all over the country were fired, denied the opportunity to exhibit, and persecuted in other ways; their art work was purged from Germanys national collections, destroyed, or sold for the benefit of the Reich. Nazi operatives also focused on Jewish-owned art collections, whose owners were often forced into bargain sales, the proceeds of which they may not have realized. In 1938 and 1939, when Germany annexed Austria and invaded Poland, German art squads quickly moved in. Working from lists compiled in the late 1930s by pro-Nazi scholars and art historians, these special units targeted fine and decorative arts from galleries, museums, private collectors, universities, banks, and religious institutions in both countries. The German army, with the art functionaries in tow, then advanced west, taking the Netherlands and

Belgium by May 1940 and France by June. Hitlers operatives were especially enthusiastic about holdings that fit the Reichs notion of Germanic patrimony, and such works were seized as Germanys rightful possessions. As a result, many of Europes greatest treasures were systematically expropriated. Masterpieces of the first rank were designated for Hitlers planned showcase of Germanic culture, the Fhrermuseum in Linz, Austria, or skimmed by Hermann Goering for his private collection. Less important works were earmarked for public and private collections throughout Germany.
Following the attack at Pearl Harbor in December 1941, private organizations and individuals in the United States intensified discussions on how to protect American and European cultural monuments. 5 By 1942, as the Allies prepared to invade Europe, the group already included such important art-world leaders as Francis Henry Taylor of the Metropolitan Museum, Paul J. Sachs and George L. Stout of the Fogg Art Museum at Harvard University, William B. Dinsmoor, Sr., of the Archaeological Institute of America, and David Finley of the National Gallery of Art in Washington.6 Out of their early meetings evolved the American Commission for the Protection and Salvage of Artistic and Historic Monuments in War Areas, known as the Roberts Commission after its chairman, associate justice of the United States Supreme Court, Owen J. Roberts. Founded by President Franklin D. Roosevelt in June 1943, the commission was tasked with protecting Europes cultural treasures in time of war and helping with the eventual restitution of objects looted by the Nazis. In fall 1943, the commission recommended that the U.S. War Departments Civil Affairs Division formally establish the MFA&A to coordinate efforts throughout Europe.7 With the aid of the Roberts Commission, the MFA&A recruited from museums all across the country a number of talented men and women, many of whom had already enlisted or were otherwise participating in the war effort.8 On paper, the official plan for the MFA&A branch indicated an Allied advisory staff led by a lieutenant colonel and sixteen majors, aided by American field units of at least twelve junior officers, with one officer and additional staff attached to the headquarters of each army.9 Looking ahead to an Allied invasion of Europe, officials envisioned that MFA&A officers would move through Europe to assess the situation on the ground and take immediate action as needed. In reality, MFA&A operations were slow to take off. By June 1943, only one U.S. officer, Capt. Mason Hammond, a Harvard classics professor, was released from active duty in Air Force Intelligence and assigned to North Africa as the Allies planned for the invasion of Sicily in July.Hammonds British counterpart in the MFA&A, Capt. F.H.J. Maxse, arrived in September;11 and by October, a small number of MFA&A staff arrived to help with the Italian campaign. MFA&A personnel increased after May 1945, when the surrender

The MFA&A and its allied intelligence counterpart, the Art Looting Investigation Unit (ALIU), were a small group of men and women recruited to protect, locate, investigate, catalogue, and repatriate an unprecedented number of art works systematically looted between 1933 and 1945 by the Third Reich.
When valuable cultural property was discovered, the staff scrambled and improvised. They detailed soldiers to guard against sabotage and vandalism, and initiated emergency conservation efforts to protect works from moisture and other elements.
Opposite: Maerten van Heemskerck, Portrait of Pieter Gerritsz, 1529, one of the works in the exhibition "Paintings Looted from Holland."
of Germany allowed the unit to take on additional staff transferred out of the active military, but during and after the war there were never enough men to cover the territory involved. That the section was also plagued throughout by a lack of supplies and transportation made their accomplishments all the more heroic. The MFA&A struggled to protect monuments, works of art, and archives as Allied troops advanced into Italy in late 1943 and moved into France and Central Europe following the D-Day Operation in June 1944. When valuable cultural property was discovered, the staff (sometimes called Venus Fixers12 by the GIs) scrambled and improvised. They detailed soldiers to guard against sabotage and vandalism, and initiated emergency conservation efforts to protect works from moisture and other elements. They posted offlimits signs to prevent unauthorized troop billeting, pilfering, and destruction, and at times resorted to marking the more valuable sites as dangerous and possibly mined.13 Once combat had ceased, Monuments Men recorded any damage and, working with the local authorities, organized repairs. The job proved very dangerous at the front lines, and in the early months of 1945 two MFA&A officers were killed in action.14 While the MFA&A team focused on the protection (and later the restitution) of cultural objects, the ALIU specialized in intelligence gathering.15 Administrative staff for the small unitwhich never topped twelve over the entire duration of the projectworked from Washington and London, and officers, for the most part, operated in the field in Germany and Austria.16 By March 1945, as the invasion of Europe was drawing to a close, the ALIU staff consisted of only six employees, with one man in training and another officerLieutenant Faison, Jr.due to report for training around April. Faison had enlisted in the navy in fall 1942, along with most of the art faculty at Williams, and based on his experience as an instructor, he was assigned to the Naval Air Force teaching aircraft and ship recognition to pilots. During a later assignment evaluating training at a Combat Information Center, he was contacted by the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) in Washington and asked if he would be interested in duty requiring a knowledge of art and working in Europe. He accepted immediately.17 Faison and two colleagues were recruited for a mission in Germany to interrogate and report on suspects in Nazi art theft. The other officers were ALIU Director Lt. Cdr. James S. Plaut, who ran the Institute for Modern Art (now the Institute of Contemporary Art) in Boston, and Lt. Theodore Rousseau, a Harvard-trained art historian who went on to become chief curator of European paintings at the Metropolitan. The mens assignment turned out to be of central importance to Allied restitution efforts. In May 1945, as the ALIU was planning operations in Germany, the American Third Army made a startling discovery in the salt mine of Alt Aussee, near Salzburg, Austria, where they uncovered a huge cache of paintings, sculptures, decorative art, armor, and every other manner of cultural property. The site had been selected

Jan van der Heyden, Westerkerk, Amsterdam, ca. 16671670; Rembrandt van Rijn, Dead Peacocks, 1639. Both paintings were included in the traveling exhibition "Paintings Looted from Holland."
forty shipments of objects went back to France, more than twenty to Austria, and over thirty to the Netherlands. The story of the return of the Kappel-Rathenau paintings was typical. After the pictures were recovered at Alt Aussee, they were sent to the Munich Central Collecting Point. They were shipped to
Munich Central Collecting Point, 1945.
Amsterdam in March 1946, where the Foundation for Netherlandish Art Property (Stichting Nederlands Kunstbezit) was responsible for their return. The surviving Kappel heirs, Ernest Rathenau in New York and his sister Ellen Rathenau Ettlinger in London, filed a claim for the pictures return, but permitted their inclusion in the exhibition Paintings Looted from Holland as the paperwork was processed. It must have been rather bizarre for Faison, less than two years after he had been interrogating Hermann Voss and others at Alt Aussee, to have these two pictures hanging in his very own museum in Williamstown.33 Faison was the last director of the Munich Central Collecting Point. He had gone to London in fall of 1945 to write his ALIU report, which he submitted on 15 December. He returned to the United
States in February of 1946, was mustered out of service in March, and resumed his career at Williams. In 1950 the Department of State decided to transfer custody of the remaining Collecting Points to the German Trustee Administration for Cultural Property.34 Fine Arts and Monuments Adviser Ardelia Hall, who had briefly served as one of the MFA&A officers in Germany directly following the war, recruited Faison to close the Collecting Point at Munich. He was director for nine months, from late 1950 through 1951, and oversaw the last American efforts to repatriate art work.35 At the time of the United States departure, the Collecting Points had returned several million objects to their countries of origin. Faison once again returned to Williams. In fall 1960, he began a sabbatical year in Munich, where he researched at the Zentralinstitut fr Kunstgeschichte. This premier art library near the Knigsplatz was familiar to Faison it is located in the former Collecting Point building and, in fact, the reference books used by the MFA&A to identify Nazi loot are the core of its collections. Faison remained at Williams until his retirement in 1976. Unlike some of his fellow MFA&A officers, he spoke little about his wartime experiences.36 One of Americas most influential art historians, Faison taught a generation of art museum professionals, including several future museum directors. With the resurgence in the 1990s of interest in the topic of Nazi art looting and Allied restitution efforts, Faisons role in the ALIU and MFA&A was made known to a new generation, when he was interviewed by Lynn H. Nicholas for her book The Rape of Europa and appeared in the documentary based on this groundbreaking study of Nazi plunder and the postwar restitution effort.37 Faison, who died in 2006 at the age of 98, and his MFA&A colleagues were unlikely heroes, art historians in the midst of war. Their altruism and personal modesty stand in high contrast to their enormous achievements. Moreover, as the repercussions of Nazi plunder continue to reverberate in the art world, the vast archive of source material and the reports that Faison, Plaut, and Rousseau prepared remain a primary source used by World War II art provenance researchers, and the Monuments Men continue to merit the gratitude of those families and countries whose property they preserved.

1 The Lawrence Art Museum was later named the Williams College Museum of Art. 2 Paintings Looted from Holland Returned through the Efforts of the United States Armed Forces (New York: Plantin Press, 1946), 9. The pictures traveled to Ann Arbor, Michigan; Baltimore, Maryland; Buffalo, New York; Kansas City, Missouri; Newark, New Jersey; New Haven, Connecticut; New York City; Northampton, Massachusetts; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; San Francisco, California; Washington, D.C.; Williamstown, Massachusetts; and Worcester, Massachusetts. 3 Faisons papers are split between the Smithsonian Institutions Archives of American Art, which holds the S. Lane Faison, Jr., Papers (hereafter Faison papers), and the Williams College Archives, Williamstown, Massachusetts, MSS# MC88, S. Lane Faison, Jr. (19072006) Papers, 19262003, and MSS# MC 88.1, World War II Art Looting Investigation Unit papers, 19451946, 1986. 4 The ALIU was created under the auspices of the counter-intelligence branch of the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) with the backing of the Roberts Commission. 5 Craig Hugh Smyth, Repatriation of Art from the Collecting Point in Munich after World War II: Background and Beginnings especially with Reference to the Netherlands (Maarssen: Sdu Publishers, 1988), 14, 16, 77, appendix 1.
6 Taylor was director of the Metropolitan, Sachs was associate director and Stout the head conservator of the Fogg, Dinsmoor was director of the Archaeological Institute, and Finley the director of the new National Gallery of Art. The George L. Stout papers at the Smithsonian Institutions Archives of American Art include personal and professional correspondence, and a microfilmed copy of his war diaries (19441946) detailing his work as a Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives officer in France, Germany, and Japan. 7 Michael J. Kurtz, America and the Return of Nazi Contraband: The Recovery of Europes Cultural Treasures (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 54. 8 Among those recruited from the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C., were Craig Hugh Smyth, Charles Parkhurst, Lamont Moore, and John D. Skilton. Other recognized MFA&A members included James J. Rorimer from the Metropolitan Museum of Art; Edith Standen, secretary to the Widener Collection; Mason Hammond, a classics professor at Harvard; Thomas C. Howe, director of the California Palace of the Legion of Honor in San Francisco; George L. Stout; and S. Lane Faison, Jr. Joining the American MFA&A group was a distinguished group of curators and scholars from Europe: Edward Croft-Murray, a curator at the British Museum; Geoffrey Webb, a Cambridge professor and architectural historian; Sir Leonard Woolley, the noted archaeologist and expert in Mesopotamian studies; Ellis K. Waterhouse, a British art historian; and Karol Estreicher, a Polish art historian, to name just a few. 9 Janet Flanner, Men and Monuments (New York: Harper, 1957), 267.

A few volcanoes crawled up out of the Atlantic[,] coughed up more rocks than you can imagine and died. Nobody could do it justice except Dante.9 His new neighbors were scorpions [,] centipedes, the common horse-fly (homeless here)[,] wild jackasses, the land crab, the land turtle, mice and lizards. We have long talks together.10 A cartoon, acidly titled Short-timer, shows Levine, with the stripes of a technical sergeant, waiting out his tour of duty. Levine was not the only soldier to chafe under military hierarchy or to complain about it loudly once he left the service. Just after the exhibition at the Downtown Gallery closed, the army released the Doolittle Report, the product of the War Departments official investigation into extensive complaints made by soldiers during the war.11 Defining the service as a caste system, the report noted that the rigid hierarchy of the army was, too often, antithetical to our democratic way of life.12 This was precisely the language Levine and other veterans had used to describe their experiences in the service of their country.13 By the end of the 1940s, the three-volume publication The American Soldier provided detailed statistical information about the chronic complaints of veterans, as the historian Robert Saxe recently documented.14 Drawing on surveys conducted during the war, the authors of the study noted that throughout inactive overseas theaters of operation, attitudes toward officers tended to be particularly unfavorable, and that the better educated the soldier, the more likely he was to complain about assignments and status deprivations.15 Many enlisted men noted that officers had greater access to the severely limited amenities of alcohol, entertainment, and women.16 Officers quarters were nicer, and officers found cigarettes more plentiful, food less uniform, and chances to get off base greater. In short, a system of special privilege rigorously separated officers from their subordinates.17 The kind of evidence provided by the Doolittle Report and The American Soldier was hardly confined to official studies. Similar complaints found outlet in important postwar literature. To cite only two obvious examples, the writers Norman Mailer and James Jones established their literary reputations with bestselling novels that took the army to task for its entrenched class relations, The Naked and the Dead (1948) and From Here to Eternity (1951). Levines Welcome Home was clearly of a piece with this larger trend, and its reception between 1946 and 1948 suggests that it, like the novels, struck a chord with the public. While the painting was on view at the Downtown Gallery, both Time and Newsweek reproduced it in black and white, putting the work before several million readers. Time briefly chronicled Levines career and quoted his comments on the painting, while Newsweek focused on all of the artists in the exhibition. Five months later, the work won second place at the Carnegie Institutes annual exhibition of American painting, an achievement that once again brought Welcome Home to national attention through commentary and reproduction.18

combat artists must paint the truth as they saw and felt it.5 Any subject is in order, Biddle told the artists in a letter of instructions. Try to omit nothing. Express if you canrealistically or symbolicallythe essence and spirit of war.6 The artists could depict the full range of GI life, carrying on the New Deal tradition of art about the common man and woman. They were free to take on the darkest subjects: wounded Americans and the medics struggling to save them; dead and dying refugees and suffering animals; villages wrecked by enemy shells and American bombs; cowardice and cruelty alongside bravery and kindness. Interpretation and attitude were questions for the artists themselves to resolve, Biddle advised his artist-volunteers. Goyas cynicism and savagery would be suitable, for example. But Daumiers humanitarian spirit or Delacroixs romanticism would be all right, too. The crucial thing was for each painter to follow his inevitable star. 7 Unfortunately for the program as a whole, however, Biddle then decided to obey this same directive and assigned himself to the Tunisian front as a combat artist in his own right. And once he arrived, it quickly became apparent that, inevitable or not, the star hed followed was leading him nowhere g o o d. Fo r t h e Biddle despised governEvening Star also ment poster art that tried had a man in Tunisia to whip up public support during the spring of with phony heroics. He 1943. The Star was believed that combat a conservative antiartists must paint the truth Roosevelt paper as they saw and felt it. hostile to federal arts programs and not above sculpting news to make its points. Even so, Biddle agreed to sit for an interview, drawn uncannily to the worst self-promotion imaginable. An article in the Stars 1 June 1943 issue extensively paraphrased Biddle in a manner calculated to make the artist look ludicrous and portray his unit as worse than useless. Biddle was described boasting that the art project was one of the most liberal ever devised; that he and his colleagues worked entirely without supervision; that they painted only what they are inspired to paint; andthis one being a rare (and particularly damaging) direct quotationthat it would be entirely proper.to paint a surrealist battle scene. Nowhere in the Star article did Biddle clearly explain exactly why America might need a foxhole Dali (or even more conventional battlefield artists).8 Nowhere did the Star mention plainly practical justifications for the programthat its art could be exhibited to sell war bonds, for example. Balanced reporting was not the point. Accordingly, the paper did not seem to care that Biddles description of his colleagues limitless independence was far from accurate.9 The army had set guidelines governing artist-correspondentswith publicity considerations very much in mind. While urging field

Army Art Unit artist Frank D. Duncan, Jr.
promised a radio announcement promoting the show. 28 This campaign was the work of several movie promotion whizzes lent by studio executive Charles P. Skouras. In each city, the team staged the opening night like the world premier of a blockbuster film with fireworks, blazing searchlights, Victory Girls in sequined bathing suits, movie and radio actors, singing stars, bands, drill teams, baton twirlers, and American flags galore. Watson said after the war that the show might seem to have been vulgarized by Foxs approach, but that he did not wish to argue with its howling successhundreds of thousands of visitors in over two dozen cities. The motion picture industry discovered that if it sold enough bonds it might save its own soul. I dont think it saved its own soul but it sold a staggering lot of bonds, Watson observed.29 The money talked, and congressional conservatives held their tongues. More pertinent now is the vast visual record army artists produced by V-J Day, hundreds of pieces in a range of styles, reflecting varied sensibilities, covering every major theater of war. The work is scattered among army archives, artists estates, dealers, and private owners. It has never been gathered for a thorough retrospective exhibit or book of reproductions, and has never been accessible to historians in one place. The armys permanent collection alone is a bountiful resource by no means fully tapped by scholars. Were it not for George Biddle, the visual history of World War II would be thinner. He was a preening egotist, to be sure. His blundering tongue nearly destroyed the whole enterprise. But that same driven personality also pushed the program into being in the first place. He recruited artists sufficiently dogged to keep painting through shellfire and to persevere despite the political barrage that Biddle himself brought down on their heads. The Mayflower muralist enriched the recordin spite of himself.

Field Notes

As politicians in Washington fought a PR war over army combat art, artists in the field struggled to find the physical and emotional strength and clarity of purpose to perform their dutiesas suggested in these brief diary excerpts.

George Biddle, Italy

13 October 1943 To draw, one must remain detached. I could feel detached among the rotting, maggoty corpses.at Naples. Last. night, when I heard that wounded soldier, lying in the shadow of a jagged limestone rock, cry in a voice that sucked through the bubbles in his chest: Jesus! Why dont they get me out before I bleed to death?; when I stepped into the muddy waters of the Volturno [River] and saw by its edge the shattered bodies of soldiers who had walked last night with me.; when, letting go the guy-rope and clambering and falling up the wet clay bank, I saw other broken and bleeding bodies lying in the cement ditch at my feet, all this destruction and horror became more real to me.I had foreseen it as a just-barely possible destiny.I had experienced enough of that particular episode. I had no desire at the moment to record it further.

19 Forbes Watson, manuscript for a talk at the Art Students League, The War and Art, typescript, 25 November 1949, Wartime Artist folder, box 6, Watson papers. 20 Ibid.; and Watson to Grafly, 21 June 1944, Army at War 1944 Correspondence folder, box 5, Watson papers. See also Lenore Clark, Forbes Watson: Independent Revolutionary (Kent, Ohio: Kent State University Press, 2001), 165166. 21 See Watson to Hopkins, 23 October 1943, Art for Bonds 1943 Correspondence folder, box 5, Watson papers. Aaron Bohrod referred to the congressional action and its effects on the artists in a diary entry written in the South Pacific, 21 August 1943 (5354, typescript, Art for Bonds 1943 Correspondence folder, box 5, Watson papers). In his 1944 letter to Dorothy Grafly, Watson noted that field commanders who put the artists back to work are not exactly boasting about how much the artists are doing lest men of the type of Starnes should crack down again (Watson to Grafly, 21 June 1944, Army at War 1944 Correspondence folder, box 5, Watson papers). 22 Forbes Watson, typescript manuscript for a talk at the Art Students League, The War and Art, 25 November 1949, 4, Wartime Artist Lectures folder, box 6, Watson papers. 23 The Army had received several of his paintings, and onea portrait of Life magazine artist Fletcher Martinwas included in the Army at War. 24 Forbes Watson, Painting a Peoples War, undated typescript, Wartime Artist Lectures folder, box 6, Watson papers. 25 Forbes Watson, Note, undated typescript, Wartime Artist Lectures folder, box 6, Watson papers.
26 Forbes Watson, Bridge the Gap, undated typescript, Wartime Artist Lectures folder, box 6, Watson papers. 27 This was the sort of propaganda message that Biddle wanted to counteract in the army project and that Watson suggested could widen the gap between citizens and soldiers. 28 Army at War art exhibition scrapbook presented at Milwaukee, Wisconsin, 13 December 194414 January 1945, box 5, Watson papers. 29 Forbes Watson, typescript manuscript for a talk at the Art Students League, The War and Art, 25 November 1949, Wartime Artist Lectures folder, box 6, Watson papers. By the time the Army at War opened in Los Angeles roughly halfway through its countrywide tour, the show had already drawn 340,000 people in 13 major cities, with approximately 16 remaining on the schedule (Exhibition itineraries, Army at War Reports folder, box 6, Watson papers). Two itineraries in the Watson papers both list twenty-nine cities on the tour including Washington, D.C., but each list has different dates. The first runs from 11 October 1944 to 22 July 1945; the second starts on the same date but ends on 10 February 1946. The show had transport problems all through the tour, which may have extended it. Venues seem also to have been dropped and added throughout the run, as institutions withdrew or asked to be included.

victory celebrations, and these shared, primarily visual, experiences definitively shaped public memory for a whole generation. With the apparently less urgent need for statues in public places, many felt that the most fitting acknowledgement of the sacrifices of veterans would be living memorials, that is, civic enhancements that brought communities together in celebration of democracy, community, the pursuit of better living.3 Thus, gardens, parks, and other public amenities came to be memorials simply by virtue of being so named; because their makers were so secure in the knowledge that the community shared a lasting, unified memory of World War II, these living memorials often contained no overt references to the war at all. Collective memory was neither cohesive nor stable in the wake of the Vietnam War, and accordingly, the function of memorials has changed drastically since the conflict. The organizers of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund, primarily Vietnam veterans themselves, recognized that to prevent the rifts in communal memory from becoming permanent, prompt action on a national scale was needed to redirect the intense emotion that had fueled both support for and protest against the war. Thus, the program concept for the Vietnam Veterans Memorial competition explicitly stated that the memorial should promote the healing and reconciliation of the country after the divisions caused by the war, and at the same time make no political statement about it.4 A remedy did not come easily. One scholar summarized the problem potential designers faced: How.does a society commemorate a war for which the central narrative is one of division and dissent, a war whose history is highly contested and still in the process of being made?5 Here too, the inadequacy of imagery was strongly felt, but for different reasons than after World War II. The flood of media images from Vietnam did little to explain or justify the carnage, which people now saw in vivid color pictures that simultaneously overwhelmed them and frustrated their desire to understand the violence of war and its impact.6 In her winning submission, Maya Lin erased representation entirely, creating a memorial space where people are able to bring their own experiences of the war without being confronted with a potentially conflicting narrative.7 Lin went a step further by altering the way in which her memorial related to the human body. Recognizing that the vertical orientation of most earlier memorials was ultimately too triumphal (and therefore polarizing), Lin turned the conventional form on its side and made the memorial move horizontally into and then out of the ground. Even at its apex, where the two black granite panels meet, the height is just over ten feet; visitors feel immersed in the space, but not dwarfed by it. Though its political neutrality was disputed initially, from the moment it opened to the public, Lins Vietnam Veterans Memorial has successfully permitted a wide range of personal responses without judgment and simultaneously incorporated those responses into a larger communal discourse on the war and its aftermath.

Sabato 19 settembre, pomeriggio / Saturday 20 September, Afternoon Sala 3 / Room 3 Session 11 Limiti antichi/ Ancient Limits Chair: Maurizio Vernassa, Universit di Pisa (Italia) 14,45-15,05 Fernando Garca Romero, Universidad Complutense, Madrid (Espaa): Corpo e senso del limite nell antica Grecia 15.05-15,25 Bettina Kratzmller, Kunsthistorisches Museum Vienna (Austria): Hatchepsut Maatkare A Running Egyptian King Surpassing her Female Bodys Limits
15,25-15,45 Evanghelos Albanidis, Democritus University of Thrace, Komotini (Greece): Promotion of a healthy body versus over-training of athletes in the ancient Hellenic world 15,45-16,05 Nadia Carlomagno, Universit di Napoli, Daniela Patti, Universit Kore Enna, Francesca DElia, Universit di Salerno, Paola Aiello, Universit di Salerno, Mario Lipoma, Universit Kore Enna, Maurizio Sibilio, Universit di Salerno (Italia): The sense of gender motor threshold in ars Gladiatoria: the case of women in the arena in ancient Rome
16,05-16,25 Stephanie Laine Hamilton, University of Calgary, Alberta (Canada): Sacred Contests? How Imperial Roman Religious Observances imposed limits on Sport 16,25-17,20 Discussione / Discussion & Tea-break Intervengono / With the participation of: Mario Bruselli, G.Luca Punzo.
Session 13 I limiti legali/ Legal limits Chair: Salvatore Finocchiaro, SISS (Italia) 17,20-17,40 Juan Carlos Fernndez Truan, Universidad Pablo Olavide Sevilla (Espaa) : Lmites legales y prohibiciones como fuente de creacin en el deporte 17,40-18,00 Cristbal Serrano Gmez, Real Herrera Javier, Universidad "Pablo Olavide", Sevilla (Espaa): Evolucin histrica de las limitaciones legales en la movilidad de jugadores extranjeros en el ftbol espaol 18-18,30 Discussione / Discussion
Sala 4 / Room 4 Session 12 I limiti della nazione/ The limits of nation Chair: Jim Riordan, Worcester University (UK) 14,45-15,05 Stefan Zwicker, Johannes Gutenberg Universitt, Mainz (Deutschland): "German football in the First Czechoslowak Republic -Sports and Ethnic Conflicts 15.05-15,25 Bogdan Popa, Nicolae Iorga Institute of History, Bucharest (Romania): The Institutional Development of Sports in Romania During the first Half of the 20th Century
15,25-15,45 Sandra Budy, Helmut-Schmidt University Hamburg (Deutschland): The human body as a powerful machine body concepts in the Soviet Union 15,45 participation of: Discussione / Discussion Arnd Krger, James Riordan. Sala 1 / Room 1 Session 14 Tra modernit e tradizione/ Between modernity and tradition Chair: Joachim K. Rhl, German Sport University Cologne (Deutschland) 14,45-15,05 Jean-Nicolas Renaud, Universit Franche-Comt , Besanon (France) : La tradition : limite la modernit sportive? Lexemple du Jura au dbut du XXe sicle 15,05-15,25 Gerd Falkner, German Ski Museum, Mnich (Deutschland): Amateurbestimmungen im europischen Skisport Anfang des 20. Jahrhunderts 15,25-15,45 Toma Pavlin, University of Ljubljana (Slovenia): To have or not to have the professionalism 15,45-16,50 Discussione / Discussion & Tea break Intervengono / With the