This is a post honoring the Holocaust Remembrance Week. This year I feature memorials of modern Berlin. In the archives you can find images from Budapest and Paris. I can’t explain why my feet always lead me to genocide memorials. But they just do.
The thought of a genocide, of any genocide, have always scared me. I would erase this word from my vocabulary if I could, yet I never known how. Something seems to draw me to places with horrific past. When I was 16, I read all the Holocaust diaries they had in a local library. Then, I started reading about the war in Yugoslavia in the nineties. Several years later, I moved to Armenia, where the 1915 might just pop up in any conversation. I never skip memorials built by the living to honor the dead. Remembering might seem a disturbing task, but it’s a duty I want to serve well. Being a Warsaw girl could have shaped me a little in this matter.
Being a tourist in Berlin always makes me remember about it. I know there are people who go there for bars or art exhibits, or concerts, or to just hangout. I can’t spend a day in this city without thinking about it horrific past. Urban creators of Berlin made embracing the dark past a form of art. I believe that this is how you let the light in.
This is a gallery dedicated to three monuments honoring Holocaust victims in Berlin: the one built in the memory of Jews, who were deported and killed, the one created to commemorate Roma people that perished during WWII and, last but not least, a memorial of LGBT victims.
I like how minimalistic all the three of them are. Their forms seem to invite us to fill the details in them with our own imagination, perception of the history, or even memories. This minimalism moves me. I remember images easier than I remember words, so for me, and other visual addicts, a gallery is a best way to learn to remember. Here is one for today.
Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe
Memorial to the Sinti and Roma Victims of National Socialism
Memorial to the Homosexuals Persecuted under Nazism