ART REVIEW: Discovering Valhalla in Tel Aviv

‘Let Me See’ by Mali De-Kalo is an archive of wonders.

'LET ME SEE’ by Mali De-Kalo is a lot like dancing with an archive, gaining new insights into people and their relations to places. (photo credit: YUVAL HAI)
'LET ME SEE’ by Mali De-Kalo is a lot like dancing with an archive, gaining new insights into people and their relations to places.
(photo credit: YUVAL HAI)
An idealistic group of European new-comers arrive in a sunny land to attain their goal of a new life. They bring technological progress and Western norms, including movie-going and Viennese-style coffee. Only these people are not Zionists or Jewish, these were the Templers. German-Protestants who keenly believed that by living in the Holy Land and working hard the second coming could be perfected. Looking into archives and discussing their various legacies with known experts, Mali De-Kalo in “Let Me See” tells the story of what they built and its afterlife.
In a room with three large screens (one in front and one on each side) the different experts in their respective fields, from art history to botany, discuss their perspectives. While each person is offering a unique interview, by expertly editing the footage and introducing landscapes De-Kalo is able to offer us the illusion that these people are in conversation with one another. “Let me see,” one of them asks and the opposite screen changes. “The wall painting [by Yohanan Simon] was stolen,” one expert claims. “It was not stolen,” another says as if in response, “it had to be removed, there was no way to save it.”
This constant turning of one’s head from screen to screen, from one perspective to the other, is one way to keep the audience engaged. “The body [of the viewer] takes part in this work and indeed it moves at a brisk pace,” De-Kalo told The Jerusalem Post. “It is an invitation for curiosity and imagination.”
At the second floor of the gallery, one can see various printouts of email exchanges between the artist and the experts with whom she consulted. A descendant of the Templers in Australia, the land they were expelled to by the British when the Second World War began, suggests that she read From Desert Sands to Golden Oranges: The History of the German Templer Settlement of Sarona in Palestine 1871-1947 by Helmut Glenk.
Just as in military archives, some details are crossed out. In her research De-Kalo even found what films were shown at the German coffee establishment Café Lorenz. One such movie was the 1918 film Father Sergius to which pianist David Eppinger provided live music. This film and others are available for viewing as part of the exhibition. (While the current coffee shop is also called Café Lorenz, it is an homage to the much older place, not a continuation of it.)
The Templers called their neighborhood Valhalla, the Nordic paradise. The building which used to host Lorenz Café served British officers stationed here during the Second World War and, after that, Jewish soldiers. Named Beit HaHayal, large wall paintings by known artists were commissioned at the time. One of them was by Yohanan Simon who gained his passion for the medium from non-other than Diego Rivera while living in NYC.
People would hold marriages in front of the public art and would go dancing there. De-Kalo discovered relatives who got married at that location and the now elderly couple gracefully dances from screen to screen during the exhibition. A gentle reminder of the dance of the time and the relationship between people and landmarks.
WHAT HAPPENED next in the history of the location was not so pleasant. The building fell into disrepair and homeless people squatted inside for refuge. It was during this time the public art vanished (some say it was stolen, some say it was destroyed). Decades later, Italian-born Rabbi Roberto Arviv founded Kehila Neve Tzedek. Thanks to his efforts, and those of many others, the building was restored and now serves as a Jewish community center, an art gallery, and even a café.
This re-telling of history as I have just done is very optimistic, with the larger concept of restored grandeur and civilization (this time, Israeli) returning to a forgotten site and honoring another civilization (the one of the Germans who used to live here). This is very much contrary to the spirit of the exhibition itself. By that I do not mean to say it is not true; these things did happen. The Templers lived here, then British officers used the place, then Jewish soldiers and homeless people. Today, anyone who enjoys art can walk in and learn about the space. All that is true. De-Kalo also created a website for the exhibition so that people with memories of Beit HaHayal could write to her and share photographs. Expanding what we already know.
What I mean is that the greater strength of De-Kalo is in dancing with an archive to gently introduce us to the possibility that institutions, even human families and lives, are not a singular solid project with a clear start and a known result at the end. Life is messy and people often do not remember things precisely, or even know why things have happened that way and not another. The Templers could have decided to return to Israel and live here as other communities did, such as the African Hebrews, for example. It is this unique combination of digging into archives and creating video-art that dares to challenge our comfort levels that De-Kalo impacts in a terrific way.
“Let Me See” by Mali De-Kalo will be shown until Saturday July 10 at Schechter Gallery 42 Shlush St. Opening hours are Sunday to Thursday from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., Friday from 11 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. and Saturday from 1 p.m. to 4 p.m. Admission is free.