‘DEPICTING THE INVISIBLE’
Veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan wars the focus of exhibit
Several years ago, New York City artist Susan J. Barron happened to be talking with two widows of veterans of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. h When both of the women’s husbands returned home from multiple deployments, they seemed fine. Then both took their own lives on the streets of their hometowns. h “I was struck by how appalling and wrong that was,” Barron said in a telephone interview from New York.
“And then the women told me that 22 American veterans commit suicide every day in the United States. And that number is probably even higher because it’s not fully reported.”
Her shock and distress at the stories and statistics prompted Barron to begin “Depicting the Invisible,” a series of portraits of American military veterans suffering Post-traumatic Stress Disorder. She has created 24 portraits and has shown them in a variety of cities throughout the United States.
Fourteen of these large, six-by-sixfoot portraits are on view through Jan. 2 Downtown at the National Veterans Memorial and Museum. In addition, Barron’s award-winning documentary about the portraits can be seen on her website, susanjbarron.com.
The portraits combine photography, painting, collage and text to present individual studies of the veterans surrounded by their own words, describing what they saw and experienced in combat and what they feel as victims of PTSD.
The portrait, titled “Josh and Emma,” shows a bearded, tattooed man cradling a baby and surrounded by fragments of text: “Our mission was to flush out Al Qaeda. Returning from patrol we hit a pothole. The pothole detonated … I came home in a rough place. With PTSD I go into pure panic mode. I look like a monster reacting to a butterfly … We had Emma ten days ago … I’m not sure I believe in God but I do believe in new beginnings.”
Although the portraits appear to be black and white, Barron prints the photographs of her subjects in four colors, giving the works greater depth. Backgrounds are painted and some have drips of black dots that refer to the black dots of brain scans of PTSD victims. From hours and hours of conversations with her subjects, Barron distilled their experiences to 140 words — poetic text that surrounds the veterans.
She discovered her subjects through word of mouth and with help from Freedom Fighter Outdoors, an organization supplying support and activities for injured veterans.
“I mostly spoke to (the veterans) by phone,” Barron, 62, said. “They would say, ‘I’ll give you 15 minutes,’ and then five hours later, I had to go pick up my kids at school and I’d say, ‘let’s continue this tomorrow’ … I think many of them didn’t have an opportunity to talk much about what happened to them. And in general, I think many veterans feel invisible and forgotten.”
Barron’s subjects had all served in either Iraq or Afghanistan. According to a National Health Study for a New Generation of United States Veterans, of 60,000 veterans from those two wars, more than 13 percent of them screened positive for PTSD; other studies put the figure higher, at between 20 and 30 percent. In the past 13 years, about 500,000 U.S. troops who served in these wars have been diagnosed with PTSD.
“Veterans told me that they have these images of war that they can’t get out of their minds,” Barron said. “They haunt their dreams; the images are ever-present.”
While most of her subjects are men who, she said, suffer PTSD from experiences in combat, her portraits of women tell a different story.
“Their PTSD is from military sexual assault,” Barron said. “This is the intersection of military service and the #Metoo movement. Almost all of the women that I talked to said they weren’t believed. … We need to believe them.”
Male or female, Barron’s subjects face those looking at their portraits.
“They make direct eye contact with the viewer, which is really important,” Barron said. “I want viewers to bear witness. These veterans are owning their stories. They are real people who have put their lives on the line for you.”
Lt. Gen. Michael Ferriter, U.S. Army (retired) and president and CEO of the National Veterans Memorial and Museum,
calls the portraits “captivating.” “Barron challenges us to confront the invisible realities of individuals with PTSD,” he said.
“Veterans in these portraits are continuing service, serving their communities by sharing their stories to help others.”
The museum has scheduled interactive events to connect with regional veterans and to encourage public dialogue about PTSD, something the artist applauds.
Barron — who studied at Boston University, the Art Institute of San Francisco and Yale University — said she strives to make a difference with her art.
“I had a professor who said you have a limited amount of work capacity in your life, so make every painting count,” she said. “If I can use my skill set to bring awareness and make the world a better place, that’s what I want to do.”
But creating the works in “Depicting the Invisible” included moments of sorrow.
Her portrait “Damon” shows a confident-looking African American man who upon returning from combat practiced Buddhism and yoga and worked in a number of community projects.
“We were about to open the exhibit in Manhattan and I got a call from his mother that he had passed on — suicide … I was blindsided. I knew him so well and we had talked about everything and I felt that I should have known. I was feeling very dark and was considering stepping away from the project. Then the veterans reached out to me and said, ‘This is why you’re doing this project and why we gave you our stories. You can’t walk away.’
“So I continued and there have been many moments of joy. These are amazing, heroic people. Considering what they’ve been through and what they’ve seen, it’s remarkable that they still have so much grace and walk with such dignity and compassion.”
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