Italian soldiers stood guard in front of a closed door while a video was projected inside an empty pavilion. On the opening day of the Venice Biennale on Tuesday, April 16, Israeli artist Ruth Patir announced in a press release her decision not to present the exhibition "Motherhood." Visitors could therefore read, on a poster written in English: "The artist and curators of the Israeli pavilion will open the exhibition when a ceasefire and hostage release agreement are released."
Yet just the day before, in an interview with the left-liberal Israeli daily Haaretz, one of the pavilion's two curators, Mira Lapidot, spoke of "artistic freedom" in response to the group Art Not Genocide Alliance, which in February had called on the Biennale's organizers to disqualify Israel because of the "ongoing atrocities against Palestinians in Gaza."
"Any official representation of Israel on the international cultural stage is an endorsement of its policies and of the genocide in Gaza," felt the signatories, who include Nan Goldin and artists representing Albania, Finland, Nigeria and Zimbabwe this year. Without mentioning the massacre perpetrated on October 7, 2023 by Hamas, the group criticized the very subject of the Israeli pavilion, maternity, while "Israel has murdered more than 12,000 children and destroyed access to reproductive care and medical facilities."
"I'm not Israel's spokeswoman," defended Mira Lapidot, "and the task we were chosen for is not a public relations task. We have artistic freedom here."
Without justifying the last-minute cancellation, artist Ruth Patir limited herself to a brief comment to the New York Times: "I hate [having to do it], but I think it's important." At the last edition of the Biennale, in 2022, the artist and curator chosen to represent Russia also declined to present their works, but in this case to demonstrate their disagreement with the invasion of Ukraine a few months earlier.
The feeling of being caught in the middle is tormenting Israeli artists more than ever. Denounced as being in solidarity with Benjamin Netanyahu's government, which they oppose politically, they are also disqualified by some from sympathizing with the distress of the Gazans, even though most of them declare their support for the Palestinians demanding a state. Prior to the Biennale, the Eurovision Song Contest provided a platform for supporters of the boycott of Israel.
To talk about it or not? For creators confronted with political realities, the choice is not an easy one. "Exhibiting is the least of our problems," said photographer Matan Mittwoch, who will be exhibiting at the Rencontres d'Arles in July, as if the subject were derisory compared to the suffering endured by both peoples. The physical threats, which are difficult to measure, do not invite anyone to open up.
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