LTReikšminiai žodžiai: Paminklai; Atkūrimas; Nepriklausomybė; Monuments; Recovery; Independence.
ENA traditional monument that is always and so obviously present with its rigid didactic form could be likened to an uninterrupted sound that, after a while, becomes unperceivable because of the lack of silence. To become a message, sound needs to be interrupted with repetition of silence. What does a monument need to become a message, a keeper and transmitter of living memory that “returns the burden of memory to those who come looking for it” (James E. Young)? Perhaps it needs an interruption of presence or repetition of absence. One way to regard the state of a nation is through its monuments. After restoring its independence, Lithuania rebuilt all the monuments that the Soviets had destroyed, and erected many new ones, but of the same pre-World War II form and content. However, after “putting things right” in this sense, do we find ourselves back at square one? We had hopes for new monuments to become more relevant and diverse, and for the remaining ideologically dated or controversial public sculptures to be re-contextualized and given new meanings. But, with rare exceptions, in three decades of independence this didn’t really happen. On the contrary, commemoration discourse in Lithuania seems to be experiencing a regression - we witness a growing urge to erect more and more traditionally figurative bronze national heroes, and there are calls to memorialize freedom by directly adopting imperial and totalitarian tradition, while the darkest events of our 20th century history and their victims in many cases still remain without acknowledgement and adequate commemorative markers. Furthermore, in recent years we have seen a sharp rise in demands to get rid of the few remaining specimens of the Soviet sculptural heritage. [Extract, p. 85]