If you were driving on Route 1 north of Boston in the week after September 11, you would almost certainly have noticed a change in the foliage. The illuminated plastic signs that normally advertise burger specials or auto parts or hotel availability were suddenly sporting different kinds of messages. From liquor stores to all-night gas stations, the highway’s bright, garish come-ons were replaced with demonstrations of grief, pride, and remembrance. Boston photographer Liz Linder began seeing signs of roadside patriotism on her way to wedding jobs in Vermont and Maine; eventually she found herself on a mission. Selections from her findings form the basis of a multimedia documentary — a slide show with music — entitled " God Bless America: Reading the Signs, " which opens in the Gallery at the Piano Factory this Saturday.
Taken merely as texts, her photographs amount to short poems to the American spirit couched in the everyday free verse of entrepreneurialism. " Land of the free home of the brave car wash open 24 hours. " " Jumbo Lobster Rolls 7 am Breakfast God Bless America. " " God bless america pancakes eggs benedict closed tuesdays. " " Help Wanted God Bless America. " " Why Pay More Bacardi 175 1587 God Bless America. " A grainy snap of the marquee from the Lexington Flick movie theater reads " Ghost World the Deep End God Bless America. " A half-dozen fast-food-franchise signs sprout patriotic epigraphs; a Kentucky Fried Chicken sign reads " May Americas Fallen r*i*p. "
" There’s a discrepancy about the signs, between what it’s for and what it’s saying, " says Linder. " The first signs I saw were humble and sweet. There was a place where they sell mums; I think the sign said, ‘Mums for Sale God Bless America My Home.’ It was really sad and really hopeful; I had this mixed feeling about it. When I got back to Massachusetts, I didn’t see what I’d seen in Vermont. But I went to Maine the next weekend, and I started seeing these signs again out on Route 1, more of the ‘Two for One Special God Bless America’ variety. And I just thought, this country — I mean it was kinda funny, but we’re out of control. "
She began to notice patterns in the signs over time, and to wonder about the motivations for them. " At different times and in different places, the signs were saying something very different to me. I wondered if some people were afraid they would get ransacked if they didn’t [put up signs], because there are a lot of ethnic business owners up that way. My first feeling was that ‘Wow, everyone is really hurt, and this is how it gets expressed.’ But then I began to ask, ‘Is it for expression, is it for good luck, is it because everyone else is doing it?’ They seemed to come in groups: I would drive through a neighborhood with no signs, and then another where everyone had it up. "
Looking at Linder’s photos, you can hardly help wrestling with the subtexts. Were the fast-food-franchise signs an expression of an anxiety about the gaudiness of American commerce? Or an expression of a lack of anxiety? Was there something subversive about turning billboards into memorials? " Well, it’s not like any CEO is going to come out and say, ‘We’re against that sentiment, take it down,’ " says Linder. " So I’m not sure it’s subversive. You can see that everyone is trying and struggling to sympathize and pull together, but let’s face it: McDonald’s is still McDonald’s. "
" God Bless America: Reading the Signs " opens this Saturday, February 9, at the Gallery at the Piano Factory, 791 Tremont Street, with a reception from 5 to 8 p.m. The exhibit will be up through March 2; it’s also viewable on-line at www.lizlinder.com/godblessamerica. Call (617) 437-9365.
