Art from the Fall and Rise of the WTC

by Carl Glassman

On a table in sculptor Bryan Hunt’s sprawling White Street studio last month lay two of his works. One of them, a “memorial sculpture,” is made from chunks of World Trade Center steel. The other is a model of two curvy towers, his vision of what should rise where that steel fell.

Bryan Hunt in his studio with a model of a twin towers sculpture he plans to construct this summer. The nine-foot piece will be to scale with his 1974 major work Empire State with Hindenberg.  Photo by Carl Glassman
The  memorial sculpture Hunt designed for victims’ families are made from chunks of World Trade Center steel.


Hunt is an 18-year Tribeca resident and one of the most prominent contemporary sculptors working today. Thousands of the memorial sculptures, torch-cut steel blocks engraved on one side with “Recovered Steel World Trade Center” and on the other with the simple inscription “September 11, 2001,” were made from his design. The memorials, the idea of retired firefighter Lee Ielpi, whose son Jonathan was a firefighter killed in the disaster, have been offered through the Lower Manhattan Development Corp. to victims’ families, and more than 1,400 relatives have requested them.

Now, dismayed by what he calls “all this fancy stuff’ proposed for the future World Trade Center site, Hunt is working on his own vision for what should rise at the site—a vision of buildings, he says, as both sculpture, and icons. Hunt has constructed two towers, connected by bridges at top and bottom, that vaguely resembles the form of a woman’s legs. This summer he plans to turn his idea into a nine-foot sculpture.

Recalling his seminal 1974 sculpture, Empire State with Hindenburg, Hunt says the new piece “wraps a whole body of work in a way.” His Empire State Building, now in the Whitney Museum, put him on the art world map. Along with constructions of other “earth monuments”—the Hoover Dam, Wall of China, and Tower of Babel—it reflects an early interest in what one curator described as “a curious amalgamation of art, science, technology and philosophy.”

Before Sept. 11, Hunt woke up each morning to a view of the World Trade Center from a loft above his ground floor studio. Like many Downtowners, he is still haunted by its absence.

“I want to reconstruct them in my life,” he says simply.

Even as the selection of final plans for the World Trade Center site drew near last month, Hunt entertained hope that his design somehow would be recognized and that he would be brought into the process.

“I’m a dreamer,” says the sculptor, standing beside his gently curving model. “That’s my job,”