Masayuki Sono’s “Postcards” Memorial

Last week I got a chance to see Masayuki Sono’s “Postcards” memorial. Postcards is Staten Island’s memorial to the 252 Islanders who died on Sept. 11. The memorial is located on the waterfront in St. George. It consists of two concrete postcards (I think they evoke a bird’s wings, too) that frame the Lower Manhattan skyline. Granite is embedded in the wings, into which is carved a profile of each of the Staten Island victims.

I’m pretty sure Postcards is the first Sept. 11 memorial in the immediate area. The city has taken a slow approach to the process of making a memorial at the World Trade Center site — obviously it is still many years away.

It’s not a bad memorial — elegant, really, in the site-specific way it frames where the towers stood. Out of curiosity, I’d like to see more artistic criticism of it.

Here’s a Staten Island Advance story about the memorial’s dedication:

“We wanted to make it as personal as possible,” said Borough President James Molinaro, who stayed at the site for almost three hours after the dedication ceremony had ended. “It’s very comforting to everyone I’ve spoken with.”

The design of the monument, the brainchild of Japanese architect Masayuki Sono, is supposed to be two 40-foot postcards, stretching out into the sky. But almost everyone had their own take on what it represents — from wings carrying their loved ones to heaven, to the pages of a book turning to a new chapter.

“I spoke with someone who lost his brother, and he said it reminded him of sails,” said Molinaro, “because his brother loved to sail.”

For Diane Boland, an emergency room registrar at Staten Island University Hospital in Ocean Breeze, “Postcards” gave her the chance to put names — and faces and occupations and birthdays — on some 9/11 victims she only wishes she had gotten to know.

“We were waiting in the halls — doctors, nurses, environmental people with stretchers and wheelchairs — desperately wanting to help,” said Mrs. Boland, crying as she reflected on the sheer frustration of being so powerless. “We waited and waited and nobody came. It still hurts. But this helps with the healing.

“I’m so impressed with what Staten Island has done to honor all of these people. But as I stand in the middle and look out across the bay … this kills me. It still just devastates me,” said Mrs. Boland, looking past the monument out to the Manhattan skyline, highlighted by the two beams of blue light that rose from the vicinity of the World Trade Center, a picture that invited professional and amateur photographers alike by the dozens.