Anna Hyatt Huntington, American
The Torch Bearers, 1956-57
A work of art can shift in meaning throughout the years, perhaps due to the viewer’s newfound vantage point and experience. When I was a child in Norfolk, Huntington’s sculpture appeared otherworldly and grand, far beyond my reaching grasp. As a teenager, I viewed the sculpture as a sign to slow down and enjoy the peaceful atmosphere of the galleries inside. In my adulthood, the sculpture is a warning of what is to come—with every inch of water that approaches the two men. The photograph portrays a living nightmare to residents, foggy and misty air coating our faces, as we observe the tide reaching the crest of the bridge and its creeping ascent towards the two figures. A grand symbol of our youth, powerless to the onslaught of the Hague. However, as we confront our mortality (not unlike the man splayed across the rock), the photograph asks us to not observe with wistful and nostalgic eyes, but to extend a hand to our loved ones and those we do not know. A reminder that sculptures can be submerged, but love is present in us all. Label by Eliza Madison