128 Tribute to Firefighters Rosa Shiels

In October 2002, New Zealand hosted the Seventh World Firefighters Games. The world was still reeling from the 9/11 terrorist attacks in America the previous year and many frontline firefighters who had lost colleagues in the aftermath were in the city for what were renamed the Memorial Games. In April 2002, sculptor Graham Bennett accepted the commission to create a sculpture from sections of damaged World Trade Center steel girders found in the wreckage. This had been gifted to Christchurch by New York for a reserve to honour all firefighters, to be completed for the Games opening. The sculpture’s creation from source material of such unfathomable provenance is a fascinating tale of collaboration, care and commitment; for the artist it was both a heavy-hearted task and an absorbing challenge. This is the story of the steel that became Bennett’s Tribute to Firefighters.

t Graham Bennett and World Trade Center steel. Photograph © Stuff/

129 Early in September 2001, sculptor Graham Bennett and marine engineer Jeff Golding were in Bennett’s inner-city Christchurch studio. With chill stiffening their fingers and fogging the breath, they were working on Bennett’s major new sculpture to be installed with pride of place in the forecourt of the Te Puna o Waiwhetū, an arts and architectural showcase for the city and New Zealand’s arts community set to open in 2003. Reasons For Voyaging, his soaring multi-component sculpture, comprises a series of tall steel “trees” with hand-scratched patterning, inset indigenous timbers, and topped by slivers of the terrestrial globe programmed to rotate with the phases of the moon. It expresses concepts around navigation, migration and the global position of Aotearoa New Zealand, this independent island nation in the South Pacific Ocean. Meticulous and articulate, Graham Bennett’s approach is never once-over-lightly. On that early spring day—September 12 in New Zealand, which is 18 hours ahead of New York—the pair were discussing Bennett’s art gallery work, with a radio running in the background. Too soon they were silenced by the reports flooding in about the September 11 terror attacks in America using hijacked passenger airliners. Their work no longer seemed to matter. They downed tools, went to the nearest bar and watched the horrors unfolding on the television there. The impact of 9/11 was colossal on New York City, America’s beating heart of commerce and the arts, the seat of United Nations Headquarters, and that country’s largest, most ethnically diverse city. Among almost 3000 people of many nationalities who died in the terror attacks that day were emergency personnel, including 343 firefighters from the New York City Fire Department, their chaplain and two paramedics. Firefighters work in tight solidarity and—full-time or volunteer, man or woman —each risks his or her own life to save others and to protect property. That so many from one city died in pursuit of their work caused reverberations throughout the sector worldwide. The 2002 World Firefighters Games, set to begin in October, would be an opportunity for all those attending to celebrate

130 their organisation and to mourn together. It was inevitable that this event, to be known as the Memorial Games, would be the most poignant to date. Christchurch, also known as Ōtautahi and newly rebranded as the “City of Peace”, was offered as a welcoming and safe destination, and after other cities withdrew their bids, it won the hosting rights. How the city would respond as host became an organisational priority. Among the arrangements, Mayor Garry Moore announced the intention to dedicate city land for a firefighters’ reserve as a place of reflection for firefighters and visitors alike. The location proposed was a triangular parcel of land opposite the Christchurch City Fire Station, straddling the confluence of St Mary’s

Sculpture location Stream and the Ōtākaro - Avon River, the city’s meandering and tapu (sacred) historically significant river. It is framed at the apex by a 90-degree intersection of two bridges on one-way roads above and a section of road on the opposite bank, with the river cutting through diagonally. Ōtākaro, once-bountiful, with ready supplies of eel, native trout, ducks and more had been an important mahinga kai or food-gathering place for Ngāi Tahu, the tangata whenua (literally, people of the land), the first settlers of this region. The location was close to the gateway of the tribe’s Tautahi Pā site. The reserve would honour this heritage, be landscaped with native plantings and signified by interpretive notices. The reserve needed something symbolic t New York skyline 2000 to anchor it visually, but the specifics—namely the idea of procuring some of t Reasons for Voyaging in progress, Jeff Golding and Graham Bennett the damaged World Trade Center steel for this purpose—were mooted only Photograph ©Stuff/The Press in early April 2002. t Study for Reasons for Voyaging, 2007 Mayor Garry Moore began city-to-city discussions with newly elected Mayor Mixed media on paper, 841 x 582 mm Collection Christchurch Art Gallery Te Puna o Waiwhetū of New York Michael Bloomberg to explain the proposal for use of the steel in light of Christchurch hosting the 2002 World Firefighters Games. A flurry The Church and Parsonage, Christchurch New Zealand. December 14, 1852 Dr Alfred Charles Barker, ink on paper. Collection of Canterbury Museum of reciprocal emails, phone calls and letters ensued. Mayor Moore arranged subsequently for the City Council’s Arts Advisor, Marlene Le Cren, to meet with Ōtākaro Avon River looking towards the fire station and bridge New York City officials and present the request for the steel in person. She did

Landscape plan for Firefighters Reserve. Wayne Rimmer, WSP this on April 29 and the release documentation was approved swiftly by May 14.

131 One linchpin in the process was Commissioner John T. Odermatt, of the Office of Emergency Management (OEM), who was overseeing dispersal of the steel—some to be removed to a vast Washington warehouse for forensic examination, some sent to China for shipbuilding, and some set aside for memorial purposes. Another was Terry Sullivan, of Bovis Lend Lease LMB, who was charged with clearing one quadrant of the towering mountain of debris at Ground Zero. It was he who selected the steel for Christchurch, had it marked with an OEM identifying number, and set aside for transport to New Zealand. Christchurch Central Fire Chief Murray Jamieson, nominated as the 2002 “Face of the Games”, had travelled to New York with then-Prime Minister Helen Clark to collect a damaged New Zealand flag found in the 9/11 debris. After visiting Ground Zero both he and later Marlene Le Cren were profoundly moved by the experience and recognised the significance a sculpture from this steel would have for international firefighters. They were well aware of the limited time before the Games opened. Although approved for release in mid-May, several bureaucratic hurdles in America meant that the steel would not arrive in port in New Zealand until August 16. This left two urgent issues: permission from Ngāi Tahu to use the site, and the commissioning of an artist to create something respectful and of artistic and temporal significance from the steel. The setting for an object redolent of death, thus tapu, had significant issues for Ngāi Tahu. Water is the giver and sustainer of life and, as such, is revered by Māori.

Its importance is seen in the prevalence of wai, the word for water, in so many of New Zealand’s geographic features and place names, the most notable of which Ground Zero New York is Waitangi (weeping waters), where New Zealand’s foundation treaty was signed Photograph © Stuff/Reuters in 1840 by members of the Crown and tangata whenua. To place something Fire Chief Murray Jamieson on the proposed site for the Tribute tapu beside this important waterway needed serious consultation. Mayor Photograph © Stuff/The Press Garry Moore called upon the Reverend Maurice Manawaroa Gray MNZM, a Senior members of Uniformed Fire Officers 584 with Marlene Le Cren in New York

Ngāi Tahu kaumātua (elder, spokesman) and authority on traditional Māori Steel being prepared for shipping to New Zealand u knowledge and practices, to act as liaison between the wider tribal groupings Notation on steel beams u and to disseminate the necessary cultural knowledge to all other participants Part of a bronze plaque at Christchurch Firefighters Reserve in the project. telling the story of the Tribute to Firefighters u

132 At a meeting Maurice Gray presented a document citing Ngāi Tahu’s cultural, historic and spiritual concerns, and noted the paradigm common to all Māori tribes that one “cannot reconstruct life from something that has died”. However, it was acknowledged this situation was unprecedented and requiring much soul-searching and open-hearted consideration by all. The meeting was fraught with emotion on all sides—strenuous discussion, tears, argument and eventually compromise. The tribal representatives agreed ultimately to the installation, with the strict proviso that Ngāi Tahu would receive the steel directly, without New Zealand Customs intervention, and that all involved parties be at its reception. The newly arrived steel would be spiritually cleansed at a dawn ceremony with elements of both Christian and Māori protocol and karakia. There would be further blessings every step of the way: from the facility where the 5.5 tonnes of steel would be manipulated by crane and reconfigured into a sculpture, to the reserve site, and through to the opening. When the idea was first suggested, landscape architect Wayne Rimmer, the reserve’s designer, envisaged Graham Bennett as sculptor—for his artistry, cultural and environmental sensitivity, and philosophical approach incorporating New Zealand cultural and historic motifs in his work. But when the Mayor first approached the artist to gauge his interest, Bennett’s reaction was a strongly worded negative. There was the horror of having to handle such material, freighted as it was with unspeakable particulates, tragedy, and unknowable international portent; moreover, the tight working parameters of this commission, with its layers of sensitivity, peculiarities of location and scale, and abbreviated time-frame, were limiting. This job was incomparable to anything he had done before. Bennett favours working with imagination as his starting point: constraints are mostly related to his own vision and decision-making processes. But he is not one to shrink before a challenge. The steel was already in transit in July when Mayor Moore, Maurice Gray and Marlene Le Cren approached Bennett again. In the interim, the artist had discussed

133 it with friends, family and colleagues, and concluded that were he to pass it up, he might later rue a missed opportunity to forge something marked with such historical significance. He recalled designs for theatre sets he had undertaken where all parameters had been specified. He also recognised he would be framing this steel work with a uniquely New Zealand perspective. While these matters helped clarify the practicalities, how to approach the raw material would require much deeper deliberation. On August 29, at a dusty, dirty industrial yard on the outskirts of the city, a diverse group gathered in the damp, pre-dawn mist: tribal representatives and members, Graham Bennett, Jeff Golding, reserve project manager Lloyd Greenfield and officials, landscape architect Wayne Rimmer, City Council staff and religious elders. City Fire Station Chief Murray Jamieson and Senior Firefighter Ralph Moore in full firefighting gear provided an honour guard. The air was crisp and many hugged themselves close and shuffled their feet to stay warm. At a signal from Maurice Gray, the two firefighters stepped forward and opened the container’s doors. It was an auspicious and sombre moment as the first rays of the rising sun struck the beams within. Sunlit like this, the first sighting of the jagged and rusty I-beams was powerful and affecting for all present. Bennett had received photographs of the steel to work from, before its arrival, but it was chilling for him to look on its spray-painted identifier, #59, which is the street number of his own home. To see the steel at first hand was to acknowledge fully its provenance and the makeup of the dust coating it. This was not only vaporised human remains, the thought of which was disturbing enough, but also the residue of some 100,000 computers, office and restaurant paraphernalia, building materials and so on, all giving off innumerable toxic substances. It gave Bennett serious pause for thought about handling the pieces, from both emotional and health perspectives. The magnitude of what was ahead for him was driven home in that instant. Dawn opening and blessing of steel Manifold considerations crowded his thoughts, tumbling one over another. There was the horror of the mangled metals and ‘the gravitas of intolerance’ Study exploring possibilities for configuration of steel beams

134 it all represented: “This is never going to be beautiful. Could it ever sit easily in our land, in this space?” He wondered if it would still be understood in the future and command respect, and whether it would be maintained. Then there were questions about New Zealand’s own mixed cultural history and those relating specifically to the 900-year history of the reserve’s location and its historic and ongoing significance to the first peoples. “Can I do justice to this site?” he pondered. “Can I do justice to the emotion and horror the twisted metal represents, and assemble something that is respectful? Can I make something that those in the fire service who live and work on the site relate to? Can it succeed in the eyes of visitors and others associated with the tragedy?” Bennett had two short months from the steel’s arrival to installation. He was buoyed by the wide support he and his team received, but the pressure was on to complete it in time for the opening. Before the steel arrived, he had made a model of the reserve site with its awkward geometrical constraints and trajectories. He had also created several maquettes of possible assemblages for the steel, using painted cardboard to replicate the steel beams from images provided for him from New York. With the replica beams representing ladders, he based his maquettes on photos he had taken of the positive and negative shapes ladders make when firemen manipulate them in the course of their work, placing or climbing them. Most of the I-beam sections that had been selected for Christchurch were found in the rubble of WTC Building Six, which was destroyed beneath WTC Tower One. Among them was a smaller box-shaped column piece, the end of which was peeled back on itself in a parody of strength and permanence. Red-hot, this had plummeted to earth from the 102nd floor of WTC Two, piercing the ground right next to the N & R subway line. This piece was one of several Maquette for sculpture, 2002 Painted card, 900 x 800 x 600 mm such ‘spears’ that arrowed down from the uppermost floors of the towers and Study exploring possibilities for configuration of steel beams had been requested for use in memorials. In light of the imminent Games in

135 136 Christchurch and the tribute planned, New Zealand was the first nation outside America to receive a donation of the steel including one of these spears. Bennett’s first task after sighting the steel and experiencing its full impact was to rethink his sculpture in order to give the spear due prominence. Once he settled on his optimal structure, interfering with the steel as little as possible to respect its provenance, this was constructed—awkward flanges, attachments and angles extant—into a freestanding shape, using the technical knowhow of his workshop crew with scaffolding, cranes, clamps, gantries and minimal welding to attach the receptors for the cables to suspend the spear. Bennett’s initial idea was to suspend the spear from the main structure out over the river, but Ngāi Tahu opposed this strongly. They had several other stipulations: that any residue and shavings from the worked steel be collected and buried; that a spiral koru form symbolising new growth, like an unfurling fern frond, be placed at the foot of the sculpture; that native plants, particularly tī kōuka (cabbage trees), be used in the landscaping and that two halves of a boulder of pounamu (New Zealand nephrite jade) be placed nearby, one called Mauri to represent the physical life force and the other Te Mauri-a-Roko, the life-force of peace. They also called for the planting of one native tree to be named Te Hohou Roko or the Ultimate Peace. Furthermore, Maurice Gray and Mayor Moore insisted someone from the Muslim community be included at all official events and, on invitation, received immediate acceptance from the Muslim Association of Canterbury for an official to attend. The association requested that an object of Islamic faith be included near the steel with the other items of spiritual symbolism. The positioning of the sculpture and the site required traffic authorities to t Tribute to Firefighters construction in progress, Jeff Golding and Ian Brown move a street light so Bennett could reconcile the challenges regarding angles, Photograph © Stuff/The Press placement and balance, and come up with an elegant solution. He recognised Preparing site for Firefighters Reserve that people’s curiosity, fears and so on would lead them to want to touch the steel, so he placed a solitary beam on the opposite riverbank near a speaker’s Preparing for opening, Graham Bennett, Station Chief Murray Jamieson Photograph © Stuff/The Press podium where visitors would gather. The sightline from the sculpture’s suspended

137 spear over the river to this beam and to the top windows of the fire station beyond would link them physically and notionally. The solo beam would carry the naming signage, and residue from the worked steel would be placed inside a purpose-built receptacle Bennett would bury beside the sculpture. The landscaping was completed, lighting installed, a naming plaque in place, information plaques set into the handrails of the intersection’s footpaths above, and the reserve was ready for dedication at the opening of the Memorial Games on October 26. Come the day, the solemn ceremony attracted more than 2000 spectators, including some of the 1534 participants in the Games, and their partners, from 30 countries. Dignitaries were led onto the site with a pōwhiri—a Māori cultural and ritual processional of welcome and encounter. Speeches of welcome and remembrance were conducted by Mayor Garry Moore in the presence of New York Fire Service Chaplain Everett Wabst; US Ambassador Charles Swindells; Dr Hassam Razzaq, of the Muslim Association of Canterbury; Dame Margaret Bazley, Chair of the New Zealand Fire Service Board; and other national and international officials and religious leaders. In the first weeks after the opening, the sculpture was tagged a few times with negative political comments, but this was short-lived and dealt with quickly as its purpose as a tribute became understood. Such incidents were outweighed by the ongoing interest from international tourists arriving by the busload, as well as visiting firefighters and families. Fire Station Chief Murray Jamieson would step outside when available to provide informal commentary.

Such interest was interrupted by the events of September 4, 2010 when Photograph © Stuff/The Press Christchurch and residents of the wider Canterbury region were jolted awake at 4.35am by a 7.1 magnitude earthquake. Damage to inner-city Christchurch was extensive, and while there were multiple injuries there was no direct loss of life. The situation changed tragically on February 22, 2011 when a shallower but more devastating 6.3 magnitude earthquake struck in the middle of the Opening and dedication celebration, October 26, 2002

138 day, killing 185 people and seriously injuring many more, laying waste to entire suburbs and bringing down much of the central city, including the Christchurch City Fire Station. In the aftermath, Graham Bennett’s Tribute to Firefighters sculpture, although undamaged, bore an uncanny resemblance to many of the broken city buildings. The bridges defining the site did not fare so well and the sculpture was removed from the site and stored under cover nearby, awaiting reinstallation following repairs to the bridges. Christchurch city continues its post-earthquake rebuild and the sculpture has since resumed its place at the original site. As this book goes to print, planning is well underway for a renewal of the Firefighters Reserve that will expand its purpose to include focus on the work of national firefighters in light of their crucial role in various city and region-wide emergencies in the years since its installation. It will be rededicated in concert with the opening of the rebuilt Christchurch City Fire Station. The publication of this book anticipates both the 20th anniversary of the 2001 terror attacks in New York and the 10th anniversary of the Christchurch earthquake of 2011. Graham Bennett’s new sculpture, Giving Back, continues the circles of remembrance, reinvention and connection among the firefighters of Christchurch and New York; among the people of both cities and their processes of renewal, and those of firefighters worldwide. In the spirit of reciprocation, Bennett is developing a small scale sculpture Giving Back, taking its cue from key forms in the original Tribute to Firefighters.Cast in bronze, the work incorporates native timbers, and stone from the geographic centre of New Zealand. Further linking the firefighters of both nations, an engraved verse, The Great Figure (1928) by American poet William Carlos Williams [1883-1963] is balanced with a New Zealand dedication. Artistic endeavours need not shout loud to make their point. Rather than being a grandiloquent statement, Graham Bennett’s Tribute to Firefighters sculpture,

139 rebuilt from 9/11 rubble, stands mute and powerful in its unassuming southern hemisphere corner beside a Christchurch river, opposite the City Fire Station windows. For every firefighter looking out, it provides a reminder of those lost in pursuit of their work, an encompassing view of what unites them internationally—who they are, what they do, their successes, their courage. While the terrible provenance of the steel will never be forgotten, this sculpture stands in positive tribute to all of them and their work.

Reverend Maurice Gray(Left) and Deputy Mayor Lesley Keast and Ngāi Tahu representatives at the unveiling of Note the storyboard panels for the Tribute to Firefighters. Journey: The Story of the Steel • by Rosa Shiels (Christchurch City Council, 2003). Photograph © Stuff/The Press • While there are 9/11 memorial sculptures from World Trade Center steel throughout America and internationally, Graham Bennett’s sculpture is the only one created as a tribute to firefighters rather than as a memorial to the legacy of the terrorist attacks of 9/11. Night view of Tribute to Firefighters u

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