My artwork strives to avoid definition, refusing categorization or classification. I am conducting a dialogue with traditional photography, poetry, painting, bodywork, clarifying the essence of imprinting the image. I repeatedly engage in issues of control and randomness, as we constantly walk on the brink of the abyss yet deny it. My works examine processes, while leaving room for chance events.
Photography is my experimental laboratory for deconstruction and reconstruction of images. Over the past few years, the process of scanning has become my major tool for art-making.
In contrast to the camera’s lens, perceived as the natural continuation of the human eye, reflecting subjective observation, the scanner functions as an objective eye without any preferences. I use several types of machines, including picture scanners, slide scanners, and a 3-D scanner. In my video art, the different scanners create a sensation of space as they delineate places of the imagination. Control and randomness, observation in a place in which one’s grasp fades into chaos, are what engage me in my video works.
Over the past year, I use materials from my body, scabs from my own wounds and traditional X-rays as part of cyanotype series, preparing the light-sensitive surfaces from high quality watercolor paper, which turns blue with exposure to the sun.
These works deal with the breakdown, damage and magic that accompanies these processes.
I disperse scabs on the “blueprint” paper like magic dust from fairytales or sugar frosting. When removed from the surface of the paper, the white areas look like stars in unknown galaxies. The resulting images are proposals for a space linking pain with heavens. The papers and the marks left by the scabs may be read as if decoding litmus paper marks, in a range of shades and shades of gradations reflecting a range of emotions.
The scabs are also used for works “translating” poetry letter by letter into a scab- encoded body art poetry, including poems by Agi Mishol, Sharon Hass, and Yehuda Amichai, among others.
I dive deeply into places in which language, speech, and letters become material, blurring the boundaries between material and non-material elements. Scabs replace letters, preserving the structure of the words and verses of the original Hebrew,
sharpening the awareness of the poem as a visual unit, while muting the ability to read or hear sound.