No memorial in Berlin dedicated to the Jewish people who died during the Holocaust will be uncontroversial. In fact, a lot of people will hate it.

I, however, found the Holocaust Memorial built by Peter Eisenman and Buro Happold provocative and moving. My hostel tour group was brought there one gray Tuesday afternoon. The tour guide gave a brief blurb of information and then allowed us to explore.


If you haven't heard about the memorial, you may be confused as to how one can explore it. The memorial is made up of 2, 711 giant slabs of gray concrete set in parallel rows. The top of each block is set at a slightly different angle from the ground and vary in height as you move from the edges to the center.  From the edge, the slabs only come up to mid-thigh and you can look across the four and a half acres, seeing a bazaar empty city or graveyard. As you begin walking down spaces between each slab, the ground undulates, forcing you to be cautious and take your time. Before long everyone in my tour group had broken off, taking different paths. I moved towards the center, the gray slabs growing gradually as I did so, until I was completely surrounded by eight feet tall cold grayness. It was silent; the noise of the city blocked out by the strange smooth pillars. Occasionally I would glimpse someone between the blocks. They appeared and disappeared suddenly, but not quickly. I wanted to call out to some of them, but would think better of it before they walked out of sight. I imagine that's what limbo would be like, with souls passing suddenly and silently in an overwhelming grayness.

I emerged from the memorial feeling pensive. But as I sat with the others waiting for the last of our group to exit, I smiled at the people sitting next to me. I was so grateful just to be next to another person, to be able to walk away from that memorial with a better appreciation for what I had: love, freedom, a life.

Obviously not everyone will react to the memorial as I did (I'm sure individual interpretation is the main motive the artists had in mind). For instance, when I told a friend of mine about the memorial, he said his sister had accidently taken a group photo standing on the concrete slabs. They had had no idea what it was and just thought it was a good place for a photograph. I suppose there's no way of ensuring everyone--or anyone--will respect it. But when I think of how future generations, who have no connection to World War II or the Holocaust, will learn about it, I believe that such an interactive and abstract memorial will help them understand the complexity of such a tragic point in history.