Pickett’s Charge, 2017
8 mixed media works, each 45-50 ft x 12 ft
Hirshhorn Museum, Washington D.C.
In a central rotunda of Washington D.C.’s Hirshhorn Museum lives an installation work spanning all 360 degrees of sight and a total of around 400 linear feet. What could be mistaken initially for decay, worn and torn by time, is an intricately constructed commission by Mark Bradford. An American visual artist, Bradford’s work is “characterized by its layered formal, material, and conceptual complexity,”1 and often addresses societal structures through a process of reframing and excavation.
“Pickett’s Charge” is deceptively complex; layers upon layers of colored paper and prints are cut, torn, and shredded to reveal deeper layers still. Bradford, having created the work on top of eight super-sized printouts of the original “Pickett’s Charge,” (more on that in a moment) the work comes to clash with our traditional understandings of historical painting and abstraction. Like layers of wheatpaste posters that wear and tear on construction walls around almost every corner in urban landscapes, the work almost calls to its viewer, tempting them to reach out and peel back another layer to reveal what is underneath.
My own knowledge of American history, I will admit, is quite limited, and so I found myself having to go on my own excavation. The title “Pickett’s Charge” is taken from the name of a climactic Confederate failed infantry charge against the Union on July 3, 1863, in the Battle of Gettysburg in the American Civil War; a charge that many cite as a major turning point in the war in favor of the Union and the beginning of the ‘Lost Cause,’2 with the Confederates suffering over 50% casualties.3 Major General George Pickett was one of the losing commanding generals on July 3rd and thus the battle was named “Pickett’s Charge.”
In 1879, a full 16 years after, french artist Paul Dominique Philippoteaux was commissioned by the National Panorama Company to create a 360° cyclorama of the legendary battle for display in Chicago, where it was presented to the public in 1883 to much acclaim with the title “The Battle of Gettysburg.” The work was so popular that three more versions of the massive work were later created. Philippoteaux, despite not being present at the battle, conducted months worth of research including a series of photographic surveys and interviews with survivors of the battle and Union generals to construct his massive composition.
Cycloramas, once a vastly popular form of entertainment and historical presentation. While in its heyday, cycloramas were often described with the same enthusiasm from the public as an IMAX movie experience4 . Meant to be as immersive as possible, popular topics included land and sea battles, with most major cities having at least one in the late nineteenth century5. With the passage of time, however, cycloramas decreased in popularity with the rise of new technological developments (particularly the groundbreaking moving picture) as the world moved into the twentieth century. Currently, only around 30 cycloramas still exist today. In 2003, the original work, now also known as the “Gettysburg Cyclorama” underwent a massive conservation project before being placed in its current home at the Gettysburg National Military Park Museum and Visitor Center in Pennsylvania, opening to the public in 2008.
These scenes and stories were once something held dear to the American people; now they likely lay in wait for occasional visitors to gaze upon them. None of this, of course, is evident upon looking at Bradford’s abstracted rendition of the historical painting. As I gazed upon the abstracted contemporary take of an outdated medium, it is clear that without the extra bit of effort on my own part, the hidden stories and secrets would have been left under the piles of dirt and time.
The peeling and torn layers of Bradford’s Pickett’s Charge express a practice of historical excavation shaped by the complex social histories of the United States. In preparation for his version, Bradford mirrored Philippoteaux’s preparation process; like the artist 130 years before him, he traveled to Charlottesville, walked the fields the soldiers walked, and surveyed the land. He printed out portions of Philippoteaux’s work to layer his own overtop before stripping apart layer after layer, working through the complex and layered history of the legacy of the Civil War. With enough distance and generations, history becomes obscured, left only to those who dig at it. It is messy; “Emotionally and physically,” Bradford says, “you have to keep at it. The physicalness of that is faith. It’s not when the going is good, but when everything is falling apart. You get through that with faith.”
1 Hauser & Wirth, “Mark Bradford,” 2023.
2 Reardon, Carol (1997). Pickett's Charge in History and Memory (pdf). Civil War America. Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press. p. 285.
3 Operations in North Carolina, Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, and the Department of the East. June 3 – August 3, 1863 – Reports. The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies. Vol. XXVII-XXXIX-I. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office.
4 Jarvis, Craig (May 2, 2007). "Triangle trio buys massive painting". The News & Observer (Raleigh, NC). The News and Observer Publishing Company. Archived from the original on September 27, 2007.
5 Harrison, Nancy (7 August 2011). "Everything Just So: Cycloramas, The North American Tour". The Chattanoogan. Archived from the original on 19 August 2021.
This article was published in the 2024 issue of the MODA Critical Review, "Mess," in Spring 2024 at Columbia University.