Anatomy of Editing a Foreseeable Defect
On the wall opposite the entrance to the gallery, there is a simple architectural plan devised by a computer –a lacework-like image resulting from a malfunction of the computer, which has deleted part of what the artist had meant to delete completely; instead, the sun has been inserted, looking like a radiant eye, between two plans which are a mirror image of one another. Tova calls the work “Project of Row Housing" and it is actually the only one among her works which she has left without any further intervention. It is also the only plan where we are able to read the name of the developer – Amidar, which also appears in a mirror image. Like a child learning to write…is the artist trying to hint at a social utopia? On another wall hangs a photograph taken by the artist in China, and on it we see the framework of a house in an attractive rural setting, surrounded by trees. The house glows in a quiet and simple white – like a Lego construction built by a child, which has expanded to suit the dimensions of an adult. Here the dream begins to take shape.
In the work produced on wax paper and hanging on the wall behind those entering the gallery, a clear part of a plan appears again, this time for a parking lot, in a noxious yellow color, as if we are seeing the sun again. In this work the artist has given the sun its typical round form, but it is painted in a partially opaque black oil color with darting streaks of graphite black; the black begins to obscure the image, beginning at the bottom, like an eclipse of the sun. The architectural sketch itself marks the escape route.
The caption of the work next to the entrance is "Let the Shadow of the Tree Enter the House." Two pieces of wax paper duplicate the façade and a segment of the floors of a house, whose finished construction we can imagine, the jagged red tile roof suggesting the realization of a bourgeois dream. The artist copies, duplicates and plays with the elements of the structure and embeds a black stain inside, suggesting a shadow of a tree or a defect that has invaded the interior of the house; even at this early stage of dreaming about this private space meant to shelter us, the defect appears. In the middle of the wall, Tova has machine embroidered on a lined exercise book – white lines on a brown background - "a new page." Her embroidery penetrates all of the pages of the exercise book, thus rendering the book useless for calligraphy. This is yet another expression of the origin of an inevitable defect.
The "defect" continues to evolve in various forms. All of the exercise books are sealed with needle worked slang words typical of prejudices and malevolence, woven by the artist and sewn on the books. The shameful words are directed at women, and in this gender-related act of embroidery, heavily and obsessively done, Tova infuses the pages with a purposeful question: are the architectural plans in the exhibition a display of "masculinity?" Again we see that the "defect" appears in the early stages of "dreaming" – the stigma is inserted into the exercise books, making it impossible to open "a new page."
Throughout the exhibition, the artist creates a comparison between different types of language – the architectural language, the computer language, and calligraphy, all emanating from our culture and attempting to tame nature. However, along with the cultural intention, the defective and aggressive disturbance spreads.
The drawing "Predators" and the sketch "Let the Shadow of the Tree Enter the House" on the left wall of the interior space, are the only works created on a blank canvas. But even in these compositions, Tova narrows the boundaries of her creativity: she hand copies the sketch, the calligraphy or the computer characters, as if she has internalized the languages, allowing them to "subdue" her. She obeys them, but is again compelled to introduce an imperfection. In the diptych "Predators" she draws a segment of the house so that the outline of the floors resembles the lines in the opened exercise book. The thick black stain closes in on the image of the exterior of the house, while inside the blackness spreads, dark and wild, from the staircase into a tangle of words and letters in a script designed by the artist to create a handwritten pattern. It is almost impossible to decipher the words "they preyed,” "speak," "said" – before the written words are "devoured."
In a distant land, such as China, the dream can live even though in one of the photographs the spiked poles are directed toward the viewer and appear as an expression of violence; the violence is heightened due to the proximity of the photograph to the poster painted in red, which resembles a bleeding propaganda placard. The work in red and two additional paintings, which the artist covered in yellow ("Eclipse[O1] [22] ") and in black ("Bread") – support the exhibition on its periphery, while the three photographs sustain it at the center. The paintings are infused with a heavy treatment of color, as if the "defect" has sealed them hermetically, leaving the wax paper transparent only around the edges, while the compass at the edge of the blackness continues to point northward. The photographs with their white framework appear to freeze the possibility of hope or innocence, whereas in the narrow corridor of the gallery we see a "child" leaning over his game of pick-up sticks suggesting the presence of “The Cuckoo’s Nest”.
[O1]If this is the title of the work it should be capitalized "The Eclipse" or "Eclipse," I thought it was a reference of the writer to the previous work mentioned.