An Israeli artist’s colorful identity

Kalechman says, “The whole exhibition is about me. It’s called ‘Identity,’ and I’m talking about myself. I am a Sabra, born here in Israel, in 1950. I define myself as a Sabra Israeli.”

‘THE WHOLE exhibition is about me... a Sabra, born here in Israel in 1950.’  (photo credit: ARI BALTINESTER)
‘THE WHOLE exhibition is about me... a Sabra, born here in Israel in 1950.’
(photo credit: ARI BALTINESTER)
This is the second time we have interviewed this very Israeli artist. When we met Irit Kalechman almost four years ago at an exhibition of her paintings in Acre, “Story of a People: A Love Story in Buoyant Colors,” she introduced herself by saying – right after her name, mind you – “I am a Sabra.” The 14 huge paintings at that exhibition, all essentially a colorful expression of being Israeli, left the viewer with very little doubt that this is so.
Kalechman’s current exhibition focuses more vividly on what being Israeli means to her, and how it has shaped her identity. The title of the exhibition is, in fact, “Identity.”
She says, “The whole exhibition is about me. It’s called ‘Identity,’ and I’m talking about myself. I am a Sabra, born here in Israel, in 1950. I define myself as a Sabra Israeli.”
“I’m painting myself in this exhibition, but we’re talking about everybody. Everyone wants to say who you are, and what made you what you are today. Have you ever thought, Who am I? What made me the man I am today? Is it the influence of my genetics? My parents, or what? A poet once remarked that man is a reflection of his own landscape. But I don’t agree. We are a reflection, but of what? I believe that we are a reflection of what happened to us in our early life and all our life.”
Kalechman’s life has been rich, full of the usual ups and downs, but more so. Asked when and how she became an artist, she begins to reply even before I have finished asking the question.
“I was born like that. It is something you are born with, a desire to paint, to create. And I had a very good family, with a father who was a free spirit. He was a Jerusalem Post writer, named Ze’ev Schul.”
She goes on to say that her father taught her to see colors and to think in new ways, “out of the box.”
Another contributing factor to Kalechman’s identity was not so happy, and it saddened her life while deeply influencing her art.
“I was married 50 years ago, in 1969, to my boyfriend, who was a pilot in the air force. His name was Amiram Kalechman. On July 10, 1981, he crashed in the airplane because he had a problem with the engine. He tried to land, but he was too far from the base. So he tried to eject, but the ejector seat didn’t work. So he jumped out of the plane, but the parachute didn’t open. So he crashed into the sea and was never found. Since then I have signed my paintings with my family name, and I add A and K in his memory.”
Further challenges were to come in her life, the most recent appearing a little more than a month ago.
“I have brain cancer,” she says simply. “Around one month ago, my daughter noticed that I wasn’t seeing out of my left side. She saw this in one of the paintings I was making for this exhibition. She took me to the hospital, thinking that I maybe had a stroke. They made a brain CT and found a tumor. My kids took me to Ichilov, and after four days I had an operation. And that’s it. Now I’m getting chemotherapy and radiation.”
As significant as this new development may be, it is not reflected in Kalechman’s current exhibition, which was planned and curated long before her cancer diagnosis.
“This has nothing to do with the exhibition,” she declares. “I am trying to keep going on like what I had planned before. I don’t see any reason to change anything.”
Asked whether her cancer is now becoming part of her identity, she replies with laughter, “No, I am trying to ignore it. Really.”
The exhibition is set to include around 15 large paintings. Why so many, and why so large? Kalechman says, “You know, to mess with yourself, to ask yourself big questions, it’s not easy really. It’s even harder than getting radiation. You have to dive deep into yourself. It’s messing with memories, all kinds of situations from your past. Trying to find out the kind of influences that made you what you are.”
“Identity,” paintings by Irit Kalechman, will be on display until November 28 at Zalayet House for Art, 55 Binyamin Metudela Street, Tel Aviv. For more information: www.zalayetart.co.il