Saturday 16 March 2013

Palestine Project Decided


 It's been a busy week, involving lots of thinking.

Not least as I was invited, out of the blue, to join a writing group and it now seems that I might finally attempt to start to write my first novel. And B and I have finally finished a big marketing leaflet for Bristol.

And I've had to make a final decision about my project. Which, I'm glad to say, I've done.

It's a good idea, this sketchbook experimentation thing!

I tried out a couple of ideas I'd had (a cuckoo squatting in an olive tree) and a couple of others. I just wrote about them, then deleted them as in truth, though just little ideas, what they said was too strident a message for me to be writing publicly. (Although that does in itself show the power of an image in art).

I keep going back to the fact that I want people to be able to empathise with the very human, domestic plight of the Palestinian Arabs. Not the fighters, the suicide bombers, the large scale protestors. But the quiet, everyday people, who are really just trying to get on with living their lives.

So, the title of my project is going to be:

The Limbo of Despair: Cherished Home Keys from a Disappeared Land

And it will be spilt into four parts.

Machine Embroidery

In the first, I'm going to machine embroider panels that I'll then suspend across my installation. 

After much consideration, I decided that keys were one of the strongest symbols of the situation. They are the front door keys that fleeing Palestinians took, hoping that one day they'd be able to return to their land. Looking at them as symbols I realised just how very beautiful keys are, how well they're crafted, and how much they can say.

Obviously I'm not the first to have this thought. In the entrance to the Aida Refugee Camp in Bethlehem (housing 5,000 refugees) they've built a massive key based on the same theme. This was recently shipped all the way to the Berlin International Art Festival (despite its immense weight) to publicise the Palestinian's plight.

(And this is a great article about the story behind the key: http://eng.babelmed.net/cultura-e-societa/36-mediterraneo/7399-passing-on-the-key.html ).

So, at the bottom of my hangings I will embroider a big key. At the top I will machine embroider a Palestinian face, and in the middle, a quote that I've read during my research. In textiles yesterday I did some quick tests, and they came out pretty well:


 Both the writing and the face would need to be bigger (I think the scale of twice human size would be effective), but that's good, as although it's actually quite easy, machine embroidering handwriting (if you write it first) it's still relatively hard when it's actual size.










Model Making
The next part of the installation will be on the floor. For this, I'm going to look at the ever expanding map of Israel and place 500 model trees on it, representing the circa 500 villages that have been destroyed since 1948. (Tree planting is a major political issue in Israel, and therefore again very symbolic).


I was originally going to do this in backgammon board style, demonstrating the continual ebb and flow of land exchange. However, my experimentation turned out as rather pretty Christmas cards, not exactly a hard hitting political statement!



So what I'm going to do instead is lazer cut decreasing pieces of card (representing the shrinking Palestinian land) and glue them together to also represents land contours, then place the trees on top. (Thanks, Duncan!)

At the top of my cardboard land masses I'm going to impress images of domestic utensils into paper (or card) and place these under the trees. (I hope that ideas speaks for itself).

Duncan and I had the discussion about making trees (again on the lazer cutter) but I want to get architects model trees. I want them to look quite beautiful and arresting, in contrast to what their planting actually represents.

Painting
Next, at the back of the installation, I want to do a painting, again on cardboard (love cardboard) of Jerusalem. This is still one of the holiest of places for Palestinians and Jews alike and I want to possibly gold leaf the dome of Dome of the Rock (a sacred Muslim shrine) so it shines out from behind the machine embroidered hangings.



Installation Art
And finally, over the top of the installation, I want to drape netting. This idea comes from a story someone once told me about visiting Hebron. I have always been fascinated by it, so I wrote to him and he sent me the photo he'd shown me and explained it again.

I'd like people to be able to walk through the installation. What with having to avoid stepping on the trees, and the netting above, I hope it will have the feeling of claustrophobia that I'm sure many Palestinians feel in their camps and living behind or beside the Wall.


"The place I described was actually in Hebron and not Jerusalem.  The issue initially revolved around the tombs of the patriarchs - Abraham/Ibrahim and Sarah etc. - as they are revered by both the Jews and Muslims, and hence fought over.  For centuries the tombs were in Arab land but events (wars) allowed the Israelis to have access.  The mosque/synagogue is effectively split in two with passage ways that allow each side to remain separated but still able to visit.  It's slightly bizarre to say the least especially when you have Israeli soldiers surrounding the place for security. 

This however didn't stop a right-wing jewish extremist from massacring muslim worshippers - this is on google I'm sure.

Leading from the tomb complex to the old Hebron souk is a series of passageways.  The whole area was Arab but extremist Israeli settlers managed to start buying properties that overlooked the main walkway.  It wasn't long before the residents started dropping things onto people passing below which resulted in a thick wire 'ceiling' being constructed for protection.  (You can see from the size of the mesh that a.  the objects being dropped must have been pretty large, and b.  that smaller stuff and liquids can still be targeted on people below).  The result is somewhat scary and the tension is palpable, and the worst I felt in my travels.  Very nasty."