Haunting Beauty: Haran Kislev confronts trauma in "Hanging the Darkness"
Powerful exhibition by Kibbutz Beeri survivor Haran Kislev. 🙏
"Hanging the Darkness" explores the October 7th tragedy through art, using paint, text & conversation fragments. 🖌️💬
Expect:
Raw emotions: fear, despair, and ultimately, hope.
A dialogue on life amidst crisis.
A testament to the healing power of art.
Opening: Thursday, Jan 9th, 2025 at 8 PM (Closing: Feb 14th) @ Zemack Contemporary Art.
Haran Kislev Hanging the Darkness
A New Solo Exhibi:on at Zemack Contemporary Art
Opening: Thursday, January 9, 2025, at 8:00 PM (Closing: 14/2/2025) Curator: Yaron Harama:
Haran Kislev’s latest exhibition, "Hanging the Darkness," presents a series of works born from personal and collective experiences of the tragic events of October 7. On that day, Kislev’s kibbutz, Beeri, faced an unprecedented terrorist a]ack. A na:ve and resident of the kibbutz, Kislev endured the ordeal alongside his wife and children. His exhibi:on reflects on their experiences, expressing fear, despair, and ultimately hope.
Through his paintings, Kislev incorporates text and fragments of conversa:ons from that fateful day—messages exchanged with friends and family who survived the massacre, as well as those with whom communication was tragically cut short. The works transcend testimony, creating a dialogue that invites viewers to explore the complexi:es of life in impossible circumstances. They remind us of the essential role of art as a medium for processing, healing, and remembrance, even in the harshest realities.
The exhibition’s title, "Hanging the Darkness," holds profound and layered meanings. On one hand, it describes the act of displaying crea:ons that echo the emotional darkness and trauma Kislev endured, mirroring the pain of October 7. On the other, it hints at a desire to move beyond the darkness, to metaphorically “hang it up” and leave it behind, much like a boxer retiring their gloves after a long struggle. The name emerged from an innocent and poignant observation by Kislev’s daughter, who remarked about one of the works: "The pink is a helicopter, those are clouds, and there’s a man hanging the darkness." Kislev’s art thus serves as both a memorial to pain and a catalyst for healing and hope. (Curator: Yaron Harama:)
"I just can’t see them slaughtered before my eyes.
I wouldn't be able to die with it, and certainly not live with it.
And I push the wall hard and breathe, because I once heard it relieves anxiety.
I look back and see them sifng on their beds in the Minions pajamas Sivan bought them. They don’t move because I told them they mustn’t, and they need to stay quiet because Dad has to try and hear what’s happening outside. And it’s hard to hear, because outside, they’re always shooting, and they’re all around us all the time.
And Sivan’s phone keeps buzzing with messages. Who lost the roule]e this :me? And the roule]e spins.
And they’re here.
Will it be our turn this time?
And I wish they would come to save us already! Where are they?! When will this nightmare finally end so we can leave this cursed room?
So I draw this and the “this” of others that I loved, and this of how much I love you and how it’ll all be okay, and we’ll get through this—I promise we’ll get through this, and you’ll be fine, because I didn’t see you slaughtered before my eyes. So I can live.
And if I can live, I can also draw this." (Haran Kislev, 2024)
Zemack Contemporary Art
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Haran Kislev (b. 1985), a lifelong resident of Kibbutz Beeri, has been pain:ng its landscapes since his undergraduate studies in multidisciplinary art at Shenkar College. While his depictions oben showcase the beauty of the kibbutz, they also conceal underlying anxiety and danger - a persistent sense of fear bubbling beneath the surface.
Kislev’s work bridges two-dimensional and three-dimensional art, blurring boundaries between painting and sculpture. His technique involves building thick layers of paint using unconven:onal tools like gardening implements, knives, and hammers. By eschewing traditional brushes, Kislev channels chaos and violence into his work, reflecting the tumultuous reality of his surroundings. The physicality of his technique allows his pain:ngs to convey the disorder and intensity of his lived experience.
The exhibition captures a transformation in Kislev’s artistic approach following the events of October 7. His new works no longer depict fear of the unknown but confront the harsh realities of lived trauma. Dynamic composi:ons, vibrant colors, and heavy textures explore human vulnerability and resilience. These pain:ngs reflect the tension between the desire for normalcy and the need to process profound pain.
Key works include "Messages from Racheli", based on texts from the kibbutz’s emergency team leader, capturing the chaos and helplessness of that day. Another piece, "Haran??? I’m So, So Scared", conveys his sister’s fear as a yellow deluge distorting an unrecognizable landscape. In "Know That I Love You. Me too", Kislev portrays a moment of paralyzing fear—a farewell to his sister embodied in a collapsing house framed in thick black borders. These pieces delve into the interplay of love and fear, examining moments of separa:on and the struggle to maintain connections amid turmoil.
Many of Kislev’s new works are painted over earlier pieces created before October 7. To him, the prior landscapes are no longer relevant; they now symbolize the realization of his worst fears, preserving the memory of a life that exists only in his mind. These works memorialize the burnt and ravaged landscapes of his childhood.
The exhibition also features Kislev’s 2014 series, "The Dining Hall Massacre", created during his studies at Shenkar. These paintings depict a massacre in the kibbutz dining hall, eerily foreshadowing the horrors of October 7. Viewed in the light of recent events, the series feels prophetic, embodying fears that tragically came true a decade later.
Kislev’s latest works are not merely tes:monies to life in a volatile border region. They invite viewers to reflect on the profound and complex meanings of survival, memory, and the role of art in navigating impossible circumstances. They reaffirm art’s power as a sanctuary for healing, processing, and remembrance, even amid unimaginable adversity
(From the article 'Self-Fulfilling Anxiety,' Nirit Dahan, 2024)
