Tent
 

A soft movement, in a sort of slow motion, that seems like a sigh of relief, or perhaps a deep inhale, forms both the point of departure and the point of return in this work. A makeshift tent composed of sheets that resemble bed linens, tied together with threads tensioned across the space in an improvised, irregular manner. The tent evokes the memory of the “camp” we used to build as children, at home or on youth-movement trips, or the memory of the ״Longim״ we hung in our teenage bedrooms: those printed fabrics that became a cheap, ubiquitous design item unique to Israel in the 1990s and 2000s. The installation thus introduces a nostalgic dimension and unfolds a space of playfulness, imagination, independence, and adventure.

​

Yet the tent is made of nylon which is originally used to cover floors and furniture during house painting. An everyday, disposable material with low durability, not intended for outdoor use. In other words, it has no actual ability to function as a real tent. Moreover, it floats in the air, suspended in space, without context or solid ground. A kind of apparition. Every slight breeze affects it and reshapes it. Any touch may easily cause it to tear or be damaged.

​

The tent is composed of four sheets, each two meters by two meters, painted with desert landscapes. In this context, the paintings hold a dual role: the desert imagery situates us in an isolated terrain devoid of human presence, echoing wandering and survival struggles. The cloudless skies, washed in yellows and oranges, suggest muggy weather and the heavy heat of midday. At the same time, painting on nylon challenges the tradition of painting itself, as the work is executed on a fragile, impermanent surface that cannot be preserved. From a distance, the paintings convey softness, quiet, and pastoral calm; yet upon entering the tent, the image changes entirely. The light, now coming from behind the painting, filters through the brushstrokes, revealing and emphasizing rawness, roughness, and repetition. The painting becomes more abstract, darker, and noisier. And so, in a place where we expect an experience of protection and detachment from reality, a sense of unease emerges, and the illusion of beauty dissolves.