Q&A: Brian McCarty talks about ‘WAR-TOYS’
The Signal Reporter Jonathan Taylor spoke with “WAR-TOYS” artist Brian McCarty about his involvement with this project, how it has resonated with him and what his future plans are. “WAR-TOYS” is the current exhibition at the UHCL art gallery and will be showcased until March 15.
How did you get involved with this project?
In 1996, while I was working on a grant at the Italian creative research center Fabrica, I was invited to participate in a group photo exhibition in Zagreb, the first since the end of the Croatian War of Independence. Given the postwar setting, I was reminded of a conversation I had years before with my father about Vietnam. He was always tightlipped about his experiences, but when pressed he once pivoted to memories of playing with tin soldiers and toy guns as a child, all the while hearing about his “hero dad” who died during World War II. My father saw it all as a sort of indoctrination that led him to believe it was his duty to enlist and fight. Recalling his words, I was left with thoughts of toys as both cultural influencers and artifacts, as well as an old longing to understand some of what my father had experienced.
The study that I produced for the KON©EPT exhibition in Zagreb focused on a Vietnam-era, off-the-shelf action figure, posed in scenes of fighting on location. Wanting to move away from the war, the Croatian Photographic Society initially rejected this “WAR-TOYS” series from the show. In my defense of the work, I spoke about my personal connection and the intention to encourage those that fought to share their experiences with their children, without aggrandizing causes or casting heroes. To stop generational cycles of war, I felt these things needed to be confronted. Gratefully, the society members reconsidered, and the work was included in the exhibition.
In the nearly fifteen years that followed, the seeds of what “WAR-TOYS” would become grew in my mind. I learned about expressive therapies and their uses with traumatized children. I don’t recall the moment when it all came together, but I first voiced it on a hike in Topanga Canyon with Paul Vester in 2010.
At the time, Paul was co-chair of the Experimental Animation Department at CalArts. We had become close through my work on the board of the Platform International Animation Festival, founded by his wife and fellow animator Irene Kotlarz. When being pried for what I was going to work on next, I sheepishly offered up my idea of collaborating with children in war zones, illustrating their accounts with locally found toys. I expected Paul to think me insane. Instead, he jumped at the idea and asked very directly if I had interest in working with an organization in East Jerusalem. Unbeknownst to me, Paul had deep family connections to the iconic American Colony Hotel and the children’s foundation that had been operating at its original location since 1928, inside the Arab Quarter of Jerusalem’s Old City.
Paul’s enthusiasm was the push I needed to get the project off the ground. While he labored to make introductions to the Spafford Children’s Center, I sought help from experts in art and play therapies to fully develop the methodology. I was fortunate to cross paths with Dr. Judith Rubin. Judy (as she’s better known) is a Harvard-educated pioneer in the field of art therapy with roots that trace back to the early days of “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood.” In the years since her role as “Art Lady” on the show, she has authored numerous books, articles, and films on art therapy, taught at universities, and served as president of the American Art Therapy Association. “WAR-TOYS” as it exists now would not be possible without Judy Rubin’s contributions and the introductions both she and Paul Vester made on my behalf.
While you were producing these photos, what was the reaction from the people around you?
Typically, it’s amusement mixed with confusion. Looking like a complete and total idiot can be a real asset. In both Iraq and Gaza, I’ve encountered soldiers on patrol. The absurdity of a westerner taking pictures of toys in a war zone draws a lot of attention, but once soldiers or other onlookers look through the viewfinder at the scene created through the lens, they get it. And as anyone who has spent time in war understands, my work fits all too well with the often surreal nature of these places. “Normal” is a concept that goes right out the window.
What is your most memorable piece?
Picking the most memorable is like choosing one child over another. Instead, I’ll share an anecdote from one of the first shoots and a photo that’s in the exhibition. To recreate a boy’s account of having to cross daily through crowded and often chaotic checkpoints, I traveled just past the separation barrier on the road from East Jerusalem to Ramallah. The Kalandia Checkpoint is one of the largest in the West Bank and the site of countless protests and small skirmishes. As it so happened, the day I chose to photograph there, an extremely large group of young Palestinians had descended on the location. They advanced on the IDF soldiers manning the post until several volleys of stun grenades and tear gas dispersed the crowd.
About 30 minutes later, when it looked like things had sufficiently calmed, I set up on a small traffic island and began composing toys in front of my camera, right where cars were lined up to cross through the checkpoint. A blaring loudspeaker that could seemingly be heard for kilometers constantly informed drivers when to advance, when to stop, and what to do at any given moment lest they be shot.
Through the noise of the speakers and relaxed pace of soldiers now re-manning their regular posts after the protest, I got to work. I remained focused on the task at hand until my assistant stopped me, “Man, she’s talking to you!” Blaring over the loudspeakers was a young IDF soldier. First in Arabic, then in Hebrew, and then finally in English, she said almost melodically, “Where are you from?” I had no idea where this person was or if they could even hear me, but I answered the disembodied voice, “Los Angeles?” Without missing a beat, she broadcast for everyone to hear for kilometers around, “Ooooo! I LOVE Los Angeles!” I couldn’t help but laugh, smile, and wave in what I thought was her direction. Despite everything that had happened minutes before and the huddled masses just trying to get through this miserable checkpoint, a teenage girl, conscripted into IDF service, felt the need to flirt with a foreigner. It was truly bizarre and certainly a little funny.
What story resonated with you the most?
From the first time I saw a little girl coloring in pools of blood to every drawing since, it’s impossible not to be affected by what the children choose to share. As for the most memorable, they’re hard to pick since it feels like choosing one child over another. Instead, I can reference a few that surprised me the most. One is from a Syrian refugee camp in Lebanon and at first glace was an idyllic scene of a girl’s family at dinner. I thought the girl was showing what she missed most. It was only through the art therapist’s careful guidance that the drawing was revealed to be a representation of last time the girl ever saw her father alive. He heard gunshots outside and got up from the dinner table to investigate. He was killed a few steps outside their door in what had been a safe, middle-class neighborhood before the war. The girl and her family fled Syria, arriving at the refugee camp soon after laying the father to rest.
Another thing that continues to surprise me is the prevalence of smiling people in drawings of horrible violence. The smiles are a reflection of both the age of the children – to the younger ones, that’s just how people look in drawings – and the emotional scars they carry. Children who have been traumatized can lose access to their own feelings. It serves to protect them in the short term, but if left untreated, it can lead to serious, long-term problems. Accessing the associated memories in a safe and controlled manner is the first step. These events need to be confronted and the emotions processed. Art and play provide a mechanism in which the child remains in control, able to experience associated feelings in smaller, safer bites.
Do you have plans to continue works like this in the future?
“WAR-TOYS” is the sort of project that once you start, it’s hard to ever finish. Right now, I’m torn between continuing work with refugee populations I’ve already gotten to know – especially since situations change so quickly – and further expanding the series around the world. There is unfortunately no shortage of conflict zones with children caught in the crossfire.
Due to time and funding constraints, I’m averaging 30-45 travel days a year to work on the project. It’s not bad, but I’d like to be able to do more. My intention is to eventually create a series that includes the perspectives of children affected by conflict around the globe. At my current pace, it’s going to take me some years to do, but I’ll keep releasing work in regional-specific volumes such as what’s seen in the current exhibition.
