Splinter from the Storm 2024
The Bible Lands Museum
2 February — 30 April, 2024
Curator: Noa Arad Yairi
Artistic Director: Yael Boverman-Attas
Artistic Director: Yael Boverman-Attas
Bible Lands Museum Jerusalem:
Dr. Risa Levitt, Executive Director
Curatorial Department: Oree Meiri | Sue Vukosavovic | Timna Elper | Dana Barkagan | Dr. Yigal Bloch
Artists: Irit Abba | Judith Appleton | Noa Arad Yairi | Shir Ben Elul | Sara Benninga | Yael Boverman Attas | Miri Garmizo | Chana Goldberg | Loti Gombosh | Caron Greenblatt | Michal Greenboim | Yael Ilan | Yaara Leiter | Shachar Levi | Cecilia Lind | Ariane Littman | Orna Millo | Shani Reches | Marleene Rubenstein | Yuval Yairi
Dr. Risa Levitt, Executive Director
Curatorial Department: Oree Meiri | Sue Vukosavovic | Timna Elper | Dana Barkagan | Dr. Yigal Bloch
Artists: Irit Abba | Judith Appleton | Noa Arad Yairi | Shir Ben Elul | Sara Benninga | Yael Boverman Attas | Miri Garmizo | Chana Goldberg | Loti Gombosh | Caron Greenblatt | Michal Greenboim | Yael Ilan | Yaara Leiter | Shachar Levi | Cecilia Lind | Ariane Littman | Orna Millo | Shani Reches | Marleene Rubenstein | Yuval Yairi
The Bible Lands Museum whispers tales of ages past, where empires clashed and sands ran red, leaving a tapestry of time marked by battles and conquests.
We recount fallen cities, chronicle Pharaohs' wrath, the Babylonians' siege, and the Romans' fiery kiss upon the land. Yet, for all the battles etched in memory, our hearts remain distant, our eyes dry, reflecting a history both grand and cold.
On the seventh of October, a storm ripped through the present and flung us into a frenzy of destruction and loss. The echoes of ancient conflicts resonated with terrifying immediacy, piercing the veil of our reality. Within the museum, amidst whispers of kings and prophets, a new exhibition emerges. Showcases from which valuable antiquities were removed for safekeeping during wartime now house expressions of the present horror, interrupting but also amplifying the continuum where the past and present intertwine. Some works predate the war, yet collectively, they express the search for self within our current reality. "Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards," said Søren Kierkegaard.
But we are now living and processing simultaneously.
We have changed. Old beliefs tremble beneath the weight of dystopian reality, and we sift through harsh truths for meaning. There are images we have seen and images we were spared from seeing… yet even those we cannot help but imagine.
It is difficult to remain silent. We gather these vivid fragments, weaving them into our inner world, adding another tile to the ever-evolving mosaic of who we are.
Within a museum dedicated to bygone eras, the present intrudes, and muted whispers of antiquity amplify the heartbeats of a country still reeling.
We recount fallen cities, chronicle Pharaohs' wrath, the Babylonians' siege, and the Romans' fiery kiss upon the land. Yet, for all the battles etched in memory, our hearts remain distant, our eyes dry, reflecting a history both grand and cold.
On the seventh of October, a storm ripped through the present and flung us into a frenzy of destruction and loss. The echoes of ancient conflicts resonated with terrifying immediacy, piercing the veil of our reality. Within the museum, amidst whispers of kings and prophets, a new exhibition emerges. Showcases from which valuable antiquities were removed for safekeeping during wartime now house expressions of the present horror, interrupting but also amplifying the continuum where the past and present intertwine. Some works predate the war, yet collectively, they express the search for self within our current reality. "Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards," said Søren Kierkegaard.
But we are now living and processing simultaneously.
We have changed. Old beliefs tremble beneath the weight of dystopian reality, and we sift through harsh truths for meaning. There are images we have seen and images we were spared from seeing… yet even those we cannot help but imagine.
It is difficult to remain silent. We gather these vivid fragments, weaving them into our inner world, adding another tile to the ever-evolving mosaic of who we are.
Within a museum dedicated to bygone eras, the present intrudes, and muted whispers of antiquity amplify the heartbeats of a country still reeling.