2,977 Silences

Artwork ID: BBA001 Silences
Dimensions: 4 m (W) × 2.0 m (D) × 6.5 m (H)
Materials: 2,977 paper cups
Year: 2026

Description:

In the quiet expanse of the gallery, two towers rise.
From a distance, they appear monumental and solemn. Yet as we move closer, we discover that they are made of one of the lightest and most ordinary objects: paper cups.

This installation commemorates the 25th anniversary of September 11. The artist has stacked 2,977 paper cups by hand, forming two structures that evoke the memory of the fallen Twin Towers. Each cup is not merely a number, but a life, a place, and a moment that never returned.

A paper cup is an object made to be used briefly and discarded. In this work, however, it is transformed into something sacred. Its emptiness becomes a vessel of absence, and its repetition becomes the body of memory. The act of placing each cup is not simply a process of construction, but a quiet ritual of mourning for those who were lost.

The two towers resemble one another, but they are not identical. Their differences in height and direction suggest that even within a single tragedy, time and grief are marked differently. The work does not depict impact, collapse, fire, or destruction. Instead, through the repetition of white paper cups and the silence they create, it invites us to face the weight of what remains after loss.

This memorial does not remain still, even after it is completed. Because it is built from light paper cups, the structure may slowly tremble, lean, or shift during the exhibition. The movement of air, the vibration of the floor, the presence of viewers, and the passage of time may cause parts of it to naturally fall away. Yet this is not damage or failure. This gradual change and collapse are part of the work itself.

Memory, too, is never perfectly fixed. It trembles, fades, and asks to be cared for again. Through this fragile memorial—one that may slowly change over time—the work reminds us that remembrance is not a finished monument, but a living act that must continue.

Twenty-five years is long enough for a new generation to grow. The memory of this tragedy now belongs not only to those who witnessed it, but also to those who inherit it. 2,977 Silences, Towers of Trembling Memory is both an act of mourning for the past and a quiet request to the future.

Do not forget.
Look again.
Do not turn away from memory as it begins to fall.

The two towers stand without speaking.
And slowly, almost imperceptibly, they tremble within time.
In that trembling, we hear the places of those who are gone,
the prayers of those who remain,
and the voice of a memory that has not yet ended.

Artist Statement
I built this work from 2,977 paper cups. That number was not chosen arbitrarily. It is the count of those who lost their lives on September 11, 2001. Each cup stands for one person.

I chose paper cups because they are disposable. We hold them every day without thinking, and discard them just as easily. That very thoughtlessness is where this work begins. When 2,977 of the most easily discarded objects gather to form a monumental structure, a question emerges: have we been letting go of these lives just as carelessly?

There are three things I wished to say. First, that even the most ordinary object, when stacked with the intention to remember, can become something sacred. Second, that no civilization, however great, is immune to collapse — that fragility is part of what it means to be human. And third, that even after what has fallen, the act of remembering itself creates meaning that outlasts the ruins.

I did not set out to represent the victims through a cheap material. I borrowed the object we consume most thoughtlessly to make the opposite point — that their lives were not cheap, not disposable, not something to be set aside. Paradox is the language of this work.

The most humble material. The most sacred memory.
That is the only thing I sought to offer.