Close the gift shop
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Back in the bad old days of April, I had numerous conversations with friends both in and out of New York who were all of a sudden paying close attention to Gov. Andrew Cuomo. These people had, indeed, become hooked on Cuomo’s daily briefings on the state’s response to the coronavirus crisis, which were informative and even-keeled presentations on the scope of the pandemic as it swept across New York.
Because they knew the governor and I had what the kids call “a history,” they would ask me: How did I think he was doing? Very well, I would respond. Despite early missteps, he was rising to the occasion and providing a model for what hands-on executive leadership in times of crisis could be. The only risk, I said, was that he would start believing his own marketing.
The good thing is that didn’t happen until the number of COVID-19 cases in New York dropped to the manageable but still nerve-wracking numbers we are currently experiencing. But the evidence can be purchased for $11.50 plus shipping and handling, from an online store linked from the Executive Chamber’s official website.
It’s a poster entitled “New
York Tough,” and it’s weird.
The poster, crafted by an artist who has so far remained anonymous — and, considering the criticism heaped upon the work, should probably stay that way — is both graphically and metaphorically suspect. On the left side, a plane loaded with COVID-19 is identified on one wing as “Europeans,” which can’t help but evoke nativist propaganda of yore that warned of pestilence carried to our shores by travelers from that continent. Also: Isn’t is more than a little possible that more than a few Americans visiting Europe in the first months of the year hauled the virus back to New York and other states? (Following the artistic logic of this detail, there ought to be another plane marked “Chinese,” but you can see how that might be, ah, problematic.)
On the right side, Cuomo’s daughter’s boyfriend — who spent several weeks on lockdown in the Executive Mansion — dangles from a cliff as the governor’s three daughters and other New Yorkers (health care, essential) join “out-of-state volunteers” hanging in the blue ether to haul on a rope that is “pulling down the curve together.” At the end of this tug-of-war, the governor’s dog, Captain, is depicted in the sort of undignified pose my own dog strikes when she collapses on the living room floor and splays herself out in a shameless bid for a belly scratch.
Probably because it’s his poster, the governor is the only figure depicted twice: near the center of the image, smiling from behind the wheel of his Pontiac GTO (which for some reason is aimed directly at the struggling boyfriend) and lower down, flanked by his health commissioner, budget director and
secretary at a table evoking his daily briefings.
All of these elements and more — including a surmounting rainbow and beribboned “Love Wins,” a giant octopus threatening a cruise ship, and a sun that looks suspiciously like “Cabaret”-era Liza Minnelli — combine to make it nearly impossible for the artist to include a detail that might remind the viewer that more than 32,000 New Yorkers have died from COVID-19, a level of mortality that outstrips reported deaths from the virus racked up by all but a handful of nations.
The governor’s response to this criticism, boiled down, has been: Well, OK — but if you look at the projections it could have been so much worse. This stands in stark contrast to the White House, which has responded to criticisms of its handling of the virus on the national level by stating: Well, OK — but if you look at the projections it could have been so much worse.
Cuomo has endlessly used the metaphor of mountaineering to describe the state’s experience with COVID-19. He even ordered the construction of a sculpture that follows the contours of the state’s infection curve, and had it colored the deep green of the Adirondacks in high summer.
“This is the mountain that New Yorkers climbed,” Cuomo said last month at the briefing where he unveiled Mt. Coronavirus.
To be sure, mountain climbing is a handy metaphor for overcoming obstacles, as I am constantly reminded by the less nutty sort of framed posters you’ll find in dental offices. But once again in this case these comparisons are a little, well, gross. Unless you’re being pursued by angry Bavarian townsfolk or armies of Mongols, most people choose to climb mountains, the height of which are not determined by human action or inaction.
The metaphorical coronavirus “mountain,” we should recall, is composed not of sedimentary rock but exclusively of human bodies experiencing infection, sickness and death, and its ascending altitude was determined in large part by the failure of our institutions — state as well as federal — to act quickly enough to address the crisis.
Turning it into the political equivalent of a cheery Richard Scarry splash page might generate some sales from those with a serious hankering for camp; it might be amusing in the short term, but I’m not sure we’ll look back on it fondly.
Responding this week to criticism from CNN’S Jake Tapper, Cuomo denied that the poster represented any sort of victory lap for a race that, after all, isn’t over yet. He insisted the graphic was meant to celebrate the New York spirit. “I’m proud to applaud New Yorkers,” he said — it’s not about him, in other words.
But it sure feels that way.