Sitting astride a horse, Lee’s bunkmate P.G.T. Beauregard has undergone a similar descent. If you looked up at the statue from street level, the horse would be staring down at you, its hoof raised for possible trampling. But with the eye-line shifted, the horse appears to bow to us, as if accepting our leadership.
Here, Lê shoots into harsh daylight coming through the housing unit’s door, giving the image the candour of documentary. At the same time, the way the bright, white light illuminates the horse’s hind legs makes it seem like it’s stepped out of a portal, Beauregard riding into the present from a distant epoch. And, in a way, he has.