Sometimes in war, rhythm and repetition can set the nature of horror and tragedy. In World War I, life in the trenches was periodically broken by violent charges towards the enemy. If you survived, then back to the trenches again. During the Iraq War, there were times when a soldier’s life was confined to the daily routine of patrolling the same area in a Humvee - all while trying to avoid being blown up. For soldiers, the grinding monotony of war can at least be broken at times - troops can be rotated away from the front lines. Yet for civilians perpetually stuck within a conflict, the daily rhythms of war construct an entirely new metaphysical reality.
The daily routines of life become either about survival, or wrapped within a feeling of constant foreboding. For Ukrainians, those who suffer under Russian occupation have seen their reality face annihilation. Yet for millions of other Ukrainians away from the front lines, they’ve suffered under the daily threat of bombings or drone attacks. Every trip to the grocery store, to work, or to school, happens under the threat of random violence. Russia’s aggression towards Ukraine has resulted in a grinding stalemate. One where the war takes on a daily routine of misery without much kinetic movement.
As of this writing, Ukrainians are not free. ‘Freedom’ in this case being defined as historian Timothy Snyder defines it in his recent book, On Freedom. In the past, I’ve written in some detail about Snyder’s definition, so I will not cover that same ground here. But for reference, it should be noted there are five main elements to Snyder’s concept of freedom: sovereignty, unpredictability, mobility, factuality, and solidarity.
Throughout her career, artist Barbara Kruger has made work that has touched upon each of these elements. Though it is one of her most recent works that seems to embody the spirit of freedom itself. Her work Untitled (Another Again) lives on the outside of a Ukrainian Railways Intercity Train car. Composed of arrows and Ukrainian text arranged in Kruger’s signature aesthetic; the work travels to various Ukrainian cities like Kyiv, Lviv, and Kharkiv.
The text laid out across the line of train cars reads as follows:
another day another night another darkness another light another kiss another fight another loss another win another wish another sin another smile another tear another hope another fear another love another year another strife another life.
The repetition mirrors the banal repetitiveness Ukrainians face within the drawn out war of Russian aggression. This is reinforced by the repetitive auditory nature of the train itself, and the repetitive course it takes day after day. Kruger has transformed the train into a daily symbol for the Ukrainian people. One that reminds them that while they might be alone in their struggle in a practical sense; they are not alone in their desire to be free.
This kind of solidarity is the major force in Kruger’s work. And as Timothy Snyder has written, solidarity is one of the pillars of true freedom. If we are to be truly free, we must care about each other's freedom; not just our own. Kruger’s work functions as almost a beacon of solidarity as it travels from city to war-torn city. A reminder to those that view it, that the despair of their metaphysical reality is not lost on the outside world. This kind of human connection through solidarity and empathy is essential for works that seek to convey elements of freedom - and exist in opposition to oppression or authoritarianism.
It is no mistake that Kruger’s work exudes authentic, and earnest human feeling. Totalitarianism uses elements of cynicism as tools that enable control and abuse. The Russian aggression towards Ukraine has been powered by lies, conspiracies, xenophobia, and revisionist history. Totalitarian movements (like the Russian attempt to absorb and annihilate Ukraine) disregard any concept of human dignity. Therefore, any art that seeks to oppose such movements must lean into the notion of human dignity with an open heart.
Kruger’s work does this by mirroring the human consciousness of the Ukrainian population. The words she uses paint a picture of a human mind trying to carry on with life under constant uncertainty and doom. Yet they also convey a steadfastness, a steady resilience, and a remembrance of what life could be. This remembrance is the vision of true freedom. An existence where not everything is perfect, but where human beings are simply allowed (and enabled) to be fully themselves. Kruger’s work represents solidarity manifested in a physical and tangible way. This is why the work functions as a representation of true freedom, and will endure as a powerful marker against totalitarian aggression.