The year is 2191. Resources are quickly declining, and we are out of time. The Earth is scorched, barren, desolate. Following a pandemic in 2040, the population has been halved and continues to decline, as the vaccine, just as other resources, is in short supply. Unfortunately, the class divide has only grown over time, with the rich becoming just as powerful as the government. Thanks to the vaccine, they have lived longer than humanly possible while the poor die in droves. The lower classes are cast out, left to fend for themselves and bear the brunt of the hard work it takes to survive. Most of the food, water, and shelter materials are automatically given to the wealthy while the lower classes struggle to make ends meet. The home we have always known is no longer safe, so a group of the wealthiest decides to put an evacuation plan in motion.
Though the plan has been in the works for several years, the evacuation is hasty. Most people are left behind; some will starve, others will drown. But the rich and valuable are safe, so the evacuation is considered successful. Having received the vaccine, I have lived to see the Earth go to ruins. It is haunting to me to see the carelessness with which human life is treated. I am part of a new team known as the Cultures and Arts Expenditure (CAE), which was put together to introduce culture to our new world. As a part of the overarching project, GENESIS, I have been invited to create a memorial to honor our past life on Earth. There are no preexisting requirements, although the funding board emphasizes positivity above all else. While I have no intention of making the project positive, accessing the necessary funding requires fulfilling the commissioners’ wishes. Therefore, there is an ambiguity within the monument as I struggle to commemorate the lives of those we left behind.
PROJECT NEMESIS, which is both a memorial and a monument, is established within a solid, grey building. It is made of an unusually sturdy rock that is of abundance on the new planet–which means that any repairs or additions are feasible. The glass cases that house the objects on display will be constructed from sand–another readily available material on the planet Inspired by different genres and movements, such as the Holocaust memorial and Soviet Socialist Realist aesthetics, I will introduce a commemoration of the wealthy for their quick thinking while simultaneously paying tribute to the people we did not take with us. Several sculptures within the museum will be modeled on Soviet Socialist Realist sculptures. In other words, they will celebrate the “ordinary people” for making the evacuation possible. At first glance, these sculptures may have positive meanings, although one soon realizes that our “heroic” evacuation was built on the backs of the dead.
There will also be a collection of items on display–ordinary, mundane objects that people might have brought with them in the scramble to evacuate. While the objects (such as toothbrushes, shoes, etc.) will not be entirely based around those we lost, they will point to the individuality of each person, therefore making the evacuation experience personal, rather than a large-scale event from which people can distance themselves. However, the items on display must be authentic, not manufactured, because one of the critical themes of this project is legitimacy and truth, regardless of the circumstances or who is in charge. If journeys back to the Earth to collect more objects or even human remains are necessary to maintain the authenticity of the evacuation, then it must be done.
While the project has several objectives, my goal is to convey transparency, the fragility of life, and deeper reflection on our quick evacuation. While the new government may brush it off as a large-scale and impersonal event, I urge all audience members to consider those that were lost. Because ultimately, if we don’t address our destructive behaviors, this situation will repeat itself, putting more lives at risk.
