The artistic twilight zone

‘No Man’s Land’ at the Artists’ House explores the in-between expanses in everyday life.

By BARRY DAVIS
‘No Man’s Land’ at the Artists’ House explores the in-between expanses in everyday life (photo credit: Courtesy)
‘No Man’s Land’ at the Artists’ House explores the in-between expanses in everyday life
(photo credit: Courtesy)
According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the expression “no man’s land” dates back to 1320. Originally spelled “nonesmanneslond,” the term was used to describe a disputed territory. However, curator Marie Shek, in giving this name to a new exhibition that opened Saturday at the Jerusalem Artists’ House, is alluding more to the twilight zone in everyday life.
She got the idea for “No Man’s Land” from a previous show she curated at the Kayma Gallery in Jaffa, which was called “Muezzin.”
“It was then that I started getting interested in areas of life that are considered forbidden, and elements that pertain to ‘the other,’” she explains. “I wanted to see how that aspect impacted on art, and on people in general.”
One of the most prominent items in the “Muezzin” display was an enormous tower, almost five meters high, by artist Tsahi Hacmon. The nominal idea fed off the shape of a minaret, but in fact it came out looking very different.
“It looked like one of those cellphone antenna towers,” recalls Shek. “You know, they are all over the place and they invade every part of our lives. They have this sort of Big Brother presence. I like exhibitions that offer you a subtext, and this one had a very powerful subtext.”
Shek is perfectly happy to present the public with the underlying message and leave it to the viewer to interpret.
“I don’t tell people what they should get from a work of art, if they get anything at all,” she states. “The spectator can understand, or not understand, whatever they want. It all depends on how sensitive he or she is.”
There is plenty to feed off in “No Man’s Land,” and the subtexts come at you from all angles through a range of styles, genres and sensibilities. There is an emotive sitespecific installation by Dina Shenhav, the daughter of a Holocaust survivor, called After Dark. It is, naturally, not the most fun-filled item, but the apocalyptic feeling that the piles of coal and black-painted wood shards impart is intentionally tempered by a pool of water, which imbues the otherwise morbid installation with a refreshing sense of life. The piece places the viewer squarely at the gray interface between life and death.
One of the most impressive works is Lihi Turgeman’s Untitled painting, which offers the spectator a bird’s-eye view of a cavernous stairwell in a seemingly deserted and dilapidated house. The angle of observation is unnatural and conjures up images of some of M.C. Escher’s “impossible constructions.”
One wonders about the vertical and horizontal planes in the work, and the charcoal-like textures and shades are also somewhat indeterminate.
One of the cultural intersections Shek offers in the exhibition is the meeting point between the West and the Third World – an area all too familiar to anyone living in contemporary Israel, with its thousands of foreign workers taking on menial jobs that most locals would not consider for themselves.
Albanian-born video artist Adrian Paci knows all about making painful transitions to other cultures. When he was a youngster, he was forced to relocate to Italy. His five-and-a-half-minute video portrays the idea of men and women from underdeveloped parts of the world trying to better their lot by taking on work in wealthier countries but being, literally, left up in the air.
The idea of drawing people’s attention to physical and cultural areas that we often glide by as we go about our daily business is front and center in Hacmon’s The Only Time Is Now installation on the top floor of the Jerusalem Artists’ House. It consists of a seemingly everyday, albeit diminutive, parking facility complete with barrier and parking-lot attendant’s cubicle. The parking area is surrounded by regular metal sheet fencing, and there is an overflowing garbage bin in one corner.
There are three clear physical and conceptual parts to the work. The barrier is there for us to cross, or otherwise; the cubicle is crammed full of various creature comforts and offers a highly colorful ambiance that contrasts with the sterile and forbidding exterior; and the garbage can, complete with sounds recorded near Hacmon’s residence and workplace near the old Tel Aviv central bus station, adds yet another level of sensibility to the creation.
Hacmon’s approach to the cubicle was inspired by his own experience as a security guard at the US Embassy in Tel Aviv.
“I spent a lot of time in that enclosed place, and I began to consider the space in different ways,” he recalls. “It makes you very creative.”
He got a different perspective on his cramped surroundings in tragic circumstances.
“I was on duty when the suicide attack took place at [Tel Aviv bar] Mike’s Place [in April 2003]. I saw the explosion and called for help, but I couldn’t leave the cubicle because I was on duty. My natural impulse was to run over there and see what I could do to help, but I had to stay put.”
According to Hacmon, parking lots are an example of a gray area in life through which we tend to pass without giving it much thought. The artist feels we should be paying more attention to seemingly residual expanses.
“I see public spaces are shrinking,” he says. “If you see an empty spot, you know the corporations and big businesses are going to take them over soon. I live on one of the toughest streets in Tel Aviv, with junkies and brothels just on the other side of a fence. I like that sense of tension and roughness. It is comfort zones that make me feel uncomfortable.”
“No Man’s Land” – which also includes works by Ohad Matalon, Sagit Mezamer, Assaf Shoshan, Karen Russo and Ariane Littman – is clearly designed to get the audience to consider areas of life that people tend to circumvent as they get on with “more important things.” Visitors to the exhibition may be prompted to give those inbetween expanses a second thought.
Gallery talks will take place on June 19 at 6 p.m. and on July 26 at noon. “No Man’s Land” closes on August 9. For more information: 625-3653 or www.art.org.il.