LIORA KANTEREWICZ
Mט art – where does it come from? What are its sources of inspiration?
First and foremost – the setting in which I grew up: my parents, my brother and sister, the city of Bat Yam 47 years ago, a great deal of nature, sea, dunes, soft-scented furze shrubs rising in the sands… Simple, real life in the most basic sense of the word.
And in its course, the city grew and evolved into what it is today at such a speed, that you can hardly digest. And suddenly a natural landscape transformed into a city where everything is paved over, domesticated, industrialized, and programmed, dense and stifling. The calm natural azure and white have become the colors of flickering neon lights, affecting a girl like myself; like a strong punch in the guts… Truth has given way to plastic.
My inspiration is my sister whose husband is of Persian origin, and four of their five children have become strictly observant Jews (see the exhibition "God Almighty" in this website).
My inspiration is my brother, whose wife is of Iraqi origin, and who started out, like me, as a dyslectic boy experiencing problems with his self-image and in school, and is now a successful man of means lecturing on economics in university.
My inspiration is the house in Shikun Vatikim [Old Timers' Quarter] in Bat Yam, where the sound that accompanied my entire childhood was a blend of sewing machine, hammering, barking dogs, meowing cats, and all sorts of other animals you can only imagine… and the smells – of various foods and pastries… and when you opened the refrigerator, there was nothing there! It was entirely empty! But when you said: "Mom, I'm hungry", within fifteen minutes, magically, you had a tasty, satiating meal made of the most basic ingredients. This was the atmosphere, the inspiration, the language I absorbed; a language of true handiwork, out of love, but also necessity. Anything we wanted, but could not afford, we asked of our two highly talented parents, and magically received – from a stylish outfit to a boat on which we skied in the Sea of Galilee, which my father built from scratch… It naturally taught us that it is what you make, rather than what you buy, that is unique, because consumerist culture is all about brand names and imitations – it is all the same!
I am often asked: "How do you know how to build these grand structures, the sculptures?" I cannot explain.
Creativity is the language I heard and observed, and like any child whose parents speak French and he absorbs the language almost unknowingly, I too absorbed the gestural language of all those arts and crafts, and the use of various tools and materials. Every time I take a new tool, I feel as though my hand already knows the movement; often, when I complete a work, I can hardly explain to myself how I did it…
My inspiration is my grandfather and grandmother who hailed from Bulgaria, in whose home I absorbed culture in the conventional sense – music, beauty and aesthetics. The work Cake (see website), for example, was inspired by the way in which my grandmother used to serve the rice.
My inspiration is my grandfather and grandmother from the other side, native born people of the land, among the founders of Yesod Ha'Ma'ala.
Indeed, if I were asked to define myself, I would say that I was a cross between cultured, aristocratic Europeanism and sabra rootedness. Perhaps, we are all such hybrids…
Every piece is a challenge to me – I start working, but never know how it will end. The solutions come up in the course of work, and if they don't – the work is cast aside or preserved unfinished until I once again feel the urge to touch it. Art transpires within me 24 hours a day. If I were asked to prepare a preliminary sketch for a work, I wouldn't be able to. Things constantly happen, live and change. It is all due to my great energies and vitality.
I call myself a challenger. I am angered by rules, because they are too obvious – the laws of nature, social laws. I am challenged to take a material and transform it into something other than what is usually made of it. To take a piece of plywood and make it into a round shape; to use a hard unstretchable material to upholster an armchair; to circumvent the qualities of the material and vanquish it by manipulation. I often turn to skilled professionals, and they tell me: "It can't be done", which makes me angry. Everything is possible! I appreciate people who achieve impossible things. In my works I often address (real and fictive) women who have done impossible things in their lives, as manifested in the armchair circle in my exhibition "Joan Dark, Joan Light", such as Joan of Arc (Jeanne d'arc), Madonna, Louis Bourgeois, Pippi Longstocking, Medusa, Princess Diana, Eve, and others.
My sculptural objects have recently been inclined toward the utilitarian. I feel that in the coming decades art as a whole will move in this direction. The viewer desires an added value beyond viewing the work, contemplating it, and being moved by it. The pleasure is greater when the work operates on multiple senses simultaneously. Today art is already conspicuously moving in the direction of interactivity.
LIORA KANTEREWICH
Mט art – where does it come from? What are its sources of inspiration?
First and foremost – the setting in which I grew up: my parents, my brother and sister, the city of Bat Yam 47 years ago, a great deal of nature, sea, dunes, soft-scented furze shrubs rising in the sands… Simple, real life in the most basic sense of the word.
And in its course, the city grew and evolved into what it is today at such a speed, that you can hardly digest. And suddenly a natural landscape transformed into a city where everything is paved over, domesticated, industrialized, and programmed, dense and stifling. The calm natural azure and white have become the colors of flickering neon lights, affecting a girl like myself; like a strong punch in the guts… Truth has given way to plastic.
My inspiration is my sister whose husband is of Persian origin, and four of their five children have become strictly observant Jews (see the exhibition "God Almighty" in this website).
My inspiration is my brother, whose wife is of Iraqi origin, and who started out, like me, as a dyslectic boy experiencing problems with his self-image and in school, and is now a successful man of means lecturing on economics in university.
My inspiration is the house in Shikun Vatikim [Old Timers' Quarter] in Bat Yam, where the sound that accompanied my entire childhood was a blend of sewing machine, hammering, barking dogs, meowing cats, and all sorts of other animals you can only imagine… and the smells – of various foods and pastries… and when you opened the refrigerator, there was nothing there! It was entirely empty! But when you said: "Mom, I'm hungry", within fifteen minutes, magically, you had a tasty, satiating meal made of the most basic ingredients. This was the atmosphere, the inspiration, the language I absorbed; a language of true handiwork, out of love, but also necessity. Anything we wanted, but could not afford, we asked of our two highly talented parents, and magically received – from a stylish outfit to a boat on which we skied in the Sea of Galilee, which my father built from scratch… It naturally taught us that it is what you make, rather than what you buy, that is unique, because consumerist culture is all about brand names and imitations – it is all the same!
I am often asked: "How do you know how to build these grand structures, the sculptures?" I cannot explain.
Creativity is the language I heard and observed, and like any child whose parents speak French and he absorbs the language almost unknowingly, I too absorbed the gestural language of all those arts and crafts, and the use of various tools and materials. Every time I take a new tool, I feel as though my hand already knows the movement; often, when I complete a work, I can hardly explain to myself how I did it…
My inspiration is my grandfather and grandmother who hailed from Bulgaria, in whose home I absorbed culture in the conventional sense – music, beauty and aesthetics. The work Cake (see website), for example, was inspired by the way in which my grandmother used to serve the rice.
My inspiration is my grandfather and grandmother from the other side, native born people of the land, among the founders of Yesod Ha'Ma'ala.
Indeed, if I were asked to define myself, I would say that I was a cross between cultured, aristocratic Europeanism and sabra rootedness. Perhaps, we are all such hybrids…
Every piece is a challenge to me – I start working, but never know how it will end. The solutions come up in the course of work, and if they don't – the work is cast aside or preserved unfinished until I once again feel the urge to touch it. Art transpires within me 24 hours a day. If I were asked to prepare a preliminary sketch for a work, I wouldn't be able to. Things constantly happen, live and change. It is all due to my great energies and vitality.
I call myself a challenger. I am angered by rules, because they are too obvious – the laws of nature, social laws. I am challenged to take a material and transform it into something other than what is usually made of it. To take a piece of plywood and make it into a round shape; to use a hard unstretchable material to upholster an armchair; to circumvent the qualities of the material and vanquish it by manipulation. I often turn to skilled professionals, and they tell me: "It can't be done", which makes me angry. Everything is possible! I appreciate people who achieve impossible things. In my works I often address (real and fictive) women who have done impossible things in their lives, as manifested in the armchair circle in my exhibition "Joan Dark, Joan Light", such as Joan of Arc (Jeanne d'arc), Madonna, Louis Bourgeois, Pippi Longstocking, Medusa, Princess Diana, Eve, and others.
My sculptural objects have recently been inclined toward the utilitarian. I feel that in the coming decades art as a whole will move in this direction. The viewer desires an added value beyond viewing the work, contemplating it, and being moved by it. The pleasure is greater when the work operates on multiple senses simultaneously. Today art is already conspicuously moving in the direction of interactivity.
LIORA KANTEREWICH
