Today, on the 20th anniversary of the attack on the Twin Towers, I looked back at the photos I took at the 9/11 Memorial in September 2019.
The urban beauty of the skyscrapers reaching towards the blue sky surprised me. It was a sunny day with soft white clouds drifting across the sky, their reflections patterning the glass facades of the buildings. I consciously photographed reflections – reflections of the clouds, of the buildings and on the water.
Around the edge of the reflective ponds, the names of those who died and red carnations, remembrance and reflection so simply conveyed.
Here I started taking photos of red lights and signs. Red signifies danger and mayhem: fire engines, the red lights of ambulances and police cars flashing; exit signs – there was no escape; the fire of the underworld – some might say Hell. It did feel an underworld in the Ground Zero Museum.
I ask myself what have we learned, how have we reacted, how have we changed? They are big questions on the world stage. Sometimes I find comfort in small things, like the fact that each day someone puts a white rose next to the name of a person who died on 9/11 to commemorate their birth.