Okay, you got me. I lured you in a little with the title of this article because Susurrus isn’t an actual curtain. However, it’s not all folly because the sculpture that I’m referring to has indeed affectionately been nicknamed “the curtain.” Also, we’re a bit late to the party, because this donation happened about eight years ago. Yes; you read that correctly.
If you’ve ever walked through the front entrance of the Carl DeSantis building, you’ve probably been temporarily blinded by a bright light being reflected off of a giant silver sculpture titled Susurrus. Near the sculpture is a bench that has been covered in quotes about the value of human life, including a passage from the Bible and a message from author and Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel. Confused, you may have walked around the aluminum structure to find a plaque informing you that this sculpture that is just over 16 feet at its highest point wasn’t put there to simply fill an empty space, but to highlight the terrors of the Armenian genocide.
Peligian measures a life-sized model of Susurrus.
Carol Peligian, the artist of Susurrus, said that when she was writing the text for the plaque, she wanted to pay homage to the 1.5 million victims of the Armenian genocide, as well as those of the other genocides that took place in the 20th century.
“The Armenian genocide was the first of five the 20th century,” said Peligian. “When I was writing the message for the plaque I wanted to make sure that it commemorated the 1.5 million Armenians and all who have suffered loss through genocide.”
It is true that often when we hear about genocide, our minds tend to travel to the savannahs of East Africa, as we desperately try to understand the difference between the Hutu and Tutsi populations. Or, we recall seeing photographs of ashen faces and skeletal remains of more than 6 million Jews who were murdered by the German Nazi regime during the Holocaust. Unfortunately, we often fail to memorialize the deaths of souls lost in other genocides such as the one in Armenia which began more than 25 years prior to the Holocaust.
According to History.com, the Armenian genocide is believed to have started around April 24, 1915 and saw the systematic extermination of 1.5 million Armenians. According to Armenian Genocide.org, the genocide was implemented through the massacring of the able-bodied male population and subjection of army conscripts to forced labor. This was later followed by the deportation of women, children and elderly on death marches leading to the Syrian desert.
Peligian, who is of Armenian descent, believes that the number of deaths recorded during the Armenian genocide and the time span in which it occurred still factors into the public’s knowledge of its events.
“Due to the fact that less lives were lost in the Armenian genocide compared the Holocaust, the latter tends to receive more attention — It’s not that people don’t care, it’s just that one is more widely known,” said Peligian. “That’s why I understood the importance that the sculpture would have on commemorating the Armenian genocide.”
Looking up through Susurrus: Peligian wanted the viewer to be able to interact with the sculpture.
What started as a six-month project morphed into a 22-month-long process of drafting ideas, considering materials, revamping the area where the final sculpture would rest as well as constructing a machine to create what she envisioned. She also created full-scale models out of paper and wood during the planning process. She explained that it was important for the piece to be durable, as memorializing a trauma in human history merited a commitment to remembrance.
“Any artist knows that with any public art piece, the work has to be perfect,” said Peligian. “That’s why every part of the process was thoroughly considered down to choosing the material – which I chose because I knew aluminum would withstand the humidity and salty air of Fort Lauderdale.”
According to Randolph Pohlman, former dean of the H. Wayne Huizenga School of Business and Entrepreneurship who worked with Peligian throughout the project and the Batmasian Family who was donating the gift, the Batmasian Family wanted to donate something more valuable than money: They wanted to remind students about being considerate to their fellow man.
“The importance of how we treat each other is of paramount importance regardless of it being in a business situation or in our personal lives. Susurrus, embodies the importance of this and therefore deserves a prominent place in front of the H. Wayne Huizenga School housed by the Carl DeSantis building,” said Pohlman.
In the grand scheme of things, money does matter, but it’s the people who matter the most; a lesson that I hope this generation never forgets. But, on the off chance that they do, I hope that there are always treasures like the Susurrus, artists and donors who will continue to bring this to the forefront of our minds.
