Maya Lin, Vietnam Veterans Memorial

Maya Lin’s (b. 1959) Vietnam Veterans Memorial is, like Minimalist sculptures, an unadorned geometric form. Yet the monument, despite its serene simplicity, actively engages viewers in a psychological dialogue, rather than standing mute. This dialogue gives visitors the opportunity to explore their feelings about the Vietnam War and perhaps arrive at some sense of closure. The history of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial provides dramatic testimony to this monument’s power. In 1981, a jury of architects, sculptors, and landscape architects selected Lin’s design from among 1,400 entries in a blind competition for a memorial to be placed in Constitution Gardens in Washington, D.C. Conceivably, the jurors not only found her design compelling but also thought that its simplicity would be the least likely to provoke controversy. But when the jury made its selection public, heated debate ensued. Even the wall’s color came under attack. One veteran charged that black is “the universal color of shame, sorrow and degradation in all races, all societies worldwide.”

But the sharpest protests concerned the form and siting of the monument. Because of the stark contrast between the Vietnam Veterans Memorial and the massive white memorials (the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial) bracketing Lin’s sunken wall, some people interpreted her Minimalist design as minimizing the Vietnam War and, by extension, the efforts of those who fought in the conflict. Lin herself, however, described the wall as follows: “The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is not an object inserted into the earth but a work formed from the act of cutting open the earth and polishing the earth’s surface—dematerializing the stone to pure surface, creating an interface between the world of the light and the quieter world beyond the names.”

Because of the vocal opposition, a compromise was necessary to ensure the memorial’s completion. The Commission of Fine Arts, the federal group overseeing the project, commissioned an additional memorial from artist Frederick Hart (1943–1999) in 1983. This larger-than-life-size realistic bronze sculpture of three soldiers, armed and uniformed, now stands approximately 120 feet from Lin’s wall. Several years later, a group of nurses, organized as the Vietnam Women’s Memorial Project, received approval for a sculpture honoring women’s service in the Vietnam War. The 7-foot-tall bronze statue by Glenna Goodacre (b. 1939) depicts three female figures, one cradling a wounded soldier in her arms. Unveiled in 1993, the work occupies a site about 300 feet south of the Lin memorial. Whether celebrated or condemned, Lin’s Vietnam Veterans Memorial generates dramatic responses. Commonly, visitors react very emotionally, even those who know none of the soldiers named on the monument. The polished granite surface prompts individual soul-searching—viewers see themselves reflected among the names. Many visitors leave mementos at the foot of the wall in memory of loved ones whom they lost in the Vietnam War or make rubbings from the incised names. It can be argued that much of this memorial’s power derives from its Minimalist simplicity. It does not dictate a particular response and therefore successfully encourages personal exploration.^[1]