We Came to Banish the Darkness
We live in a crazy neighborhood – though it seems that the entire world has gone mad. One can no longer distinguish between truth and lies, between reality and imagination, between a fantasizer and a realist. Everything is jumbled and confusing.
While the previous column was written two months ago during sirens, rockets, and drones, two dramatic changes – the ceasefire in the north and the collapse of Assad's army in Syria – have drastically changed the atmosphere, and the reality around us as well.
The relative calm, even if temporary and even if it is no more than a illusion, has sparked a rapid, urgent, awakening in various aspects of leisure and cultural life. “We came to banish the darkness” – and not just during Hanukkah.
It's true that many people – good, hardworking people – have closed their businesses, abandoned their homes in the south and north, and will never return to them or to their previous lives. And, of course, the many wounded, those suffering from battle trauma and psychological injuries, and the dead.
Still, a change is evident: Those who survived have returned and reawakened. Those whose businesses were not completely destroyed are reopening them. Those who were uprooted from their homes are coming back to check the situation and re-establish their foothold on the land.
Once the restrictions on gatherings were lifted, proximity to bomb shelters was no longer a factor, and the sirens that tore through the air were silenced, and the alerts on phones and TV screens disappeared – the country came back to life.
A blitz of cultural events, exhibition openings, and restaurant launches began. Geographical distances no longer play a role. People are once again traveling to museums and galleries they had previously avoided – whether out of fear or because they were simply closed due to the situation. People are taking more risks, moving around more freely.
Even if the war has only been paused temporarily, the change is still significant. There is a sense of renewal and a surge of creativity among various artists. Energies that had been stifled for so long are now being released and expressed.
The war has not disappeared, and no one has swept it under the rug.
It simmers and stirs beneath the surface, and there’s no telling when or in what form it will erupt again. The Middle East is full of surprises – for better or worse. The tension still hangs in the air. Donald Trump is on his way to the White House, and who knows what upheavals may come from his direction. A new Middle East? A new world?
But the current pause, even if based on illusion, is bringing a surge of activity and creativity. The events of October 7 and those that followed are finding expression in many works of art.
Art has always been a tool for expressing emotions, thoughts, and intentions.
Alongside the overt expressions, there are also hidden pointers. Many works contain layers upon layers rapping around our experiences from that Black Saturday until this very day.
But for anyone fantasizing about their next exhibition opening in Beirut or Damascus, patience is advised. It’s still too early to paint white doves of peace. "Hatikva," the hope expressed in the national anthem, is two thousand years old, so let's wait a bit longer until things become clearer...
And, of course, nothing will truly be over until all our brothers and sisters who are still held hostage in Gaza return to us.
Yoram Mark-Reich, Culture Editor
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