Not-so-easy street

The lives and times of two of Israel’s female street artists.

By RACHEL MYERSON
‘Chest Lake,’ Kiryat Hamelacha, Tel Aviv, by Nitzan Mintz (photo credit: NITZAN MINTZ)
‘Chest Lake,’ Kiryat Hamelacha, Tel Aviv, by Nitzan Mintz
(photo credit: NITZAN MINTZ)
For many, the first, or only, thing associated with graffiti is its most common form – the scrawling of one’s name or initials onto a wall, clumsily maneuvering a can of spray paint to proclaim to the streets “I was here.” This is known in the field as “tagging,” and is considered to be the lowest form of graffiti – most often the result of kids experimenting, playing the part of the rebel.
The most celebrated form of graffiti is street art, and it is far from child’s play. It is, as the name would suggest, an art form, with dedicated artists, most of whom are young adults who see this as their career – using the streets as their canvas. Street art typically consists of large-scale murals, using the public setting to provoke questions and challenge the status quo. It is also considered a form of vandalism and is illegal.
‘Howard House,’ located in Jaffa on a 19th-century house that served as a Masonic temple, belonging to Christian Arab Alexander Howard. Credit: Nitzan Mintz
‘Howard House,’ located in Jaffa on a 19th-century house that served as a Masonic temple, belonging to Christian Arab Alexander Howard. Credit: Nitzan Mintz
Thanks to the likes of Banksy (famed anonymous England-based graffiti artist), and if you’re really on top of your street art knowledge, 1980s celebrity artist Blek le Rat (described as the “father of stencil graffiti” in Paris), the world is familiar with – and often even appreciative of – this provocative art form. It can’t have escaped your notice that there is a striking amount of graffiti in Tel Aviv lately. So much so, that there are tours dedicated to interpreting it, and publications from near and far, including New York City-based Paper magazine, have waxed lyrical about the streams of spray-paint color spreading throughout the White City.
I sat down with two of the most intriguing voices in Israeli street art who defy two key stereotypes: (1) In lieu of a pseudonym, which ensures anonymity, they use their own names, and (2) they are both women. Nitzan Mintz and Maya Gelfman took time out to talk shop.
What came first, the street or the art? For Gelfman, it was the art. She was exhibiting her works in museums and galleries, but sought “another way to engage with art” after creating a series of drawings and poems called “Red Heart.”
Maya Gelfman. Credit Rita Sherman
Maya Gelfman. Credit Rita Sherman
“Those personal works asked for a more intimate way to be viewed and experienced, and I knew that the formal cleanliness of the ‘white cubes’ wouldn’t do. They asked to be outside, where life happens.” Gelfman took the streets in 2009, and was enchanted.
“I was completely taken with the immediacy and direct contact to the people that the streets offered.”
Mintz found the streets first.
“I was 17 when I first experienced vandalism, by spraying some tags onto walls. It happened after my first big love left me; I was a total mess. The same thing happened to my best friend, too. We were both brokenhearted, both dead inside, we wanted to become more alive.
So we decided to go to the street. At 2 a.m. we sprayed on schools and fancy places, it was hard-core and it made us so happy and joyful, it brought us to life. We felt like Thelma and Louise!” What, or who, inspired your work today, particularly your use of unconventional materials and methods? Mintz began writing poetry at 15, inspired by a teacher at school.
“My teacher was special. She would sit on a table, kind of sexy in her way, long legs and short skirts, and read to us. She was originally from Yemen, the old generation, and would read us Ashkenazi [poet Haim Nahman] Bialik with a Yemenite accent – it was amazing. She had a deep voice, it was like a spell. She massaged my brain, and I was in a dream when she read to us. This experience with her voice, it hooked me, and I automatically started writing poetry.”
However, after school, Mintz’s army service left her feeling trapped and hopeless.
“I came home only on weekends and I felt choked, like I had no freedom. I didn’t know how I was going to become a writer.” This desperation caused her to think bigger, culminating in a style that was to become her signature: writing her poetry on the street with large, stenciled letters.
“Nowadays I choose the most boring and bureaucratic fonts available, those used in parking lots, governments, or on mourning notices. These fonts are the opposite of my poetry.”
‘The Skeleton Tree,’ located in an abandoned Syrian army base in the Golan Heights, as part of ‘Base Colors’ exhibition, by Gelfman. Credit Roie Avidan.
‘The Skeleton Tree,’ located in an abandoned Syrian army base in the Golan Heights, as part of ‘Base Colors’ exhibition, by Gelfman. Credit Roie Avidan.
WHILE MINTZ was inspired by words, Gelfman was inspired by materials.
“Yarn and thread were always there while I was growing up. My grandmother was a very talented weaver. I used to sit and watch her skilled hands move. Sometimes I served as her human pole for the preparation of wool balls of different colors. I remember standing with my hand in front of me while she wove her circular magic – a single long string of wool tied into small packets around my fingers. I fell in love with the warm fuzzy feeling of the thread.”
Years later, these treasured memories became entwined with her art.
“I was looking for a way to create a line that was three dimensional, but at the same time flat. A stroke that felt alive in a way. The choice to draw lines with yarn, much like I would with a pencil, came naturally. They have some sort of substance to them, an existence of their own, yet they are fluent as ink brush strokes. I started creating wool drawings that were suspended in midair.”
Be it a flock of birds, formed of soft thread lines, flying away from a tangled mess of wool, or wool hearts, like bright red lollipops, the result of working with unconventional materials lends her work an ethereal quality.
How does being female affect your work as a street artist? Street artists are naturally vulnerable to various dangers; their work is against the law, and they tend to work late at night and alone, to ensure anonymity.
For women artists, there are additional concerns.
“Some dangers affect both sexes,” explains Mintz, “such as police, inspectors, landlords and weird pedestrians. But it is much harder for women to do this than men. There is a whole zone of danger that doesn’t concern men. Sexual assault, creeps, weird people and drunks, assault can be words and actions."
“I had a situation where someone grabbed my hand in south Tel Aviv at night, then the police came. But, you know, it could have ended differently. To be a street artist, you need to have the guts, to make it the top priority of your life. It needs to be everything for you, so that fear won’t break you. Myself, I am very scared and very excited, and it can be frightening. But I will do it.”
For Gelfman, who works in broad daylight accompanied by her partner and their dog, security is less of an issue.
“Even if the authorities come, we somehow manage to turn it into a conversation about art and the benefits of making the streets beautiful for passersby.”
Her femininity comes into play with her content.
“I do feel that there is something feminine in the way I contain the surroundings of my work; my street art is usually delicate and minimalistic, even fragile. I don’t try to “take over” a wall and mark my territory, but rather to explore the option of integration with the urban fabric."
“My works deal with the most basic of human questions: self-identity, the struggle with inhibitions, hope, love, pain, fear.”
How does working at home in Israel compare to working abroad? Both artists have worked abroad and plan to return – a decision that smacks of the age-old problem facing most Israeli artists: a lack of representation abroad to spread word of their talent.
The job of piquing foreign interest falls on the artists themselves. The two women speak fondly of Israel; their attachment to the land almost tangible.
“There is something very casual and welcoming about the city of Tel Aviv,” says Gelfman. “Its residents accept my work and the work of many, many others. That warm embrace sometimes can become too cozy, but always makes me feel at home. Working abroad feels very different in every aspect, starting with the immensity of the cities. There’s no comfort zone of home and studio to come back to and usually there’s a tight schedule. It dictates a different, less flexible course of action. On the other hand it makes me more on my toes and in the ‘now.’” Mintz agrees.
“Tel Aviv is special; I was born here, it is my home. Although I love this city, because it is so small, as an artist I feel there is a limit. I have a lack of faith. How successful can I be here? If I want to be bigger, I need to go outside.”
Nowadays, she splits her time between Israel and abroad, often collaborating on projects with her partner of four years, Dede (a pseudonym), a talented street artist in his own right.
“The street gave me one of the biggest gifts. We first met each others’ pieces, before we met each other face-to-face."
“This year we had a large project in Lodz in Poland, on the walls of the houses of Jews in the Holocaust. It was very emotional, the most important project I’ve ever done. I had my poems translated into Polish – Hebrew is just for people who live here, even though in my eyes it is the most beautiful language with the most beautiful letters. My art isn’t a painting, it’s subjective, so there is no point in not communicating in their language. Whether you like it or not you must do it.”
What does the future hold? Later this year, both artists will head to the US.
For Gelfman, it is a chance to challenge herself.
“The challenge for this project is removing barriers between myself, the streets, the people, the changing current of daily life, etc., through perceptive art actions in public spaces. A 365-day, 24/7 creative process that is profoundly affected by human experience and connection and that will result in countless wall pieces, installations, performances, workshops and social interactions.”
For Mintz, it is a chance to test the waters.
“Basically, New York doesn’t need us, but we are willing to work very hard, and hopefully we will have good karma!” With their talent, guts and drive, these women may just have what it takes to take on the Big Apple.
Maya Gelfman: www.mayagelfman.com/
Nitzan Mintz: www.nitzanmintz.com/