When I began the War Complex in the early eighties I was 34 and working in the first real studio of my career. It was a large windowless space in Venice with enough room to create on a whole new scale. Before renting this studio, my workspaces had been any spare room that might be available in my various apartments. Having a much bigger studio pushed me to be more ambitious with my work. I completed the War Complex about two years later at my next studio in downtown Los Angeles.
The War Complex was initially an attempt to explore the quixotic self-destructive nature of men. The figurative style I was using at the time, fit well with my aim to present a non-racial, non-cultural depiction of the participants. Their symbolic dress colors of blue and red representing the age old symbols of nationalistic pride, are used to show those ironic situations which often occur when enemies become allies and vice versa during the inevitable jockeying for power leading up to war.
My original idea for the War Complex was a simple two tier polyptych: a top tier with a war figure wielding a hammer ready to strike, and a lower tier consisting of a drum flanked by two warriors locked in mortal combat, totally unaware of the certain death that towered above them. It wasn't long before I added more fighters and family units to the lower tier, religious and political players to the upper tier, and then added a third tier at the top representing the historians: History Told and History Lost. Ironically, the History Lost panel was later severely damaged. Although no longer united with the altarpiece canvases, in its broken state it plays an even more powerful interactive yet separate part of the narrative.
A piece of art will not end all wars, but it can certainly act as a cautionary tale. Whether the War Complex is an anti-war statement or simply an effort to point out the telltale signs of an upcoming war in order to avoid the pain and suffering which follows, may be just a matter of personal perception. But there is no reason that wars must be automatic, no reason for us to reactively feed that beast. Perhaps recognizing the signs that often prophesy a conflict can give us a pause just long enough to devise an alternative solution. Atomic bomb survivor, Yoshida Katsuji put it beautifully: "The basis for peace is for people to understand the pain of others."
Jim Barrett
The War Complex was initially an attempt to explore the quixotic self-destructive nature of men. The figurative style I was using at the time, fit well with my aim to present a non-racial, non-cultural depiction of the participants. Their symbolic dress colors of blue and red representing the age old symbols of nationalistic pride, are used to show those ironic situations which often occur when enemies become allies and vice versa during the inevitable jockeying for power leading up to war.
My original idea for the War Complex was a simple two tier polyptych: a top tier with a war figure wielding a hammer ready to strike, and a lower tier consisting of a drum flanked by two warriors locked in mortal combat, totally unaware of the certain death that towered above them. It wasn't long before I added more fighters and family units to the lower tier, religious and political players to the upper tier, and then added a third tier at the top representing the historians: History Told and History Lost. Ironically, the History Lost panel was later severely damaged. Although no longer united with the altarpiece canvases, in its broken state it plays an even more powerful interactive yet separate part of the narrative.
A piece of art will not end all wars, but it can certainly act as a cautionary tale. Whether the War Complex is an anti-war statement or simply an effort to point out the telltale signs of an upcoming war in order to avoid the pain and suffering which follows, may be just a matter of personal perception. But there is no reason that wars must be automatic, no reason for us to reactively feed that beast. Perhaps recognizing the signs that often prophesy a conflict can give us a pause just long enough to devise an alternative solution. Atomic bomb survivor, Yoshida Katsuji put it beautifully: "The basis for peace is for people to understand the pain of others."
Jim Barrett