Life’s a circus at Jerusalem's annual Design Week event

After the past 15 months or so we could all do with getting away from it all. But if you find yourself short on wherewithal – many of us are after the knock our income took during the various lockdowns – fret not. There is no need to fork out on plane tickets, hotel reservations and other associated distractions from our quotidian existence. You could just pop along to Hansen House at the beginning of the month, when the 10th edition of the annual Jerusalem Design Week takes place in that venerated edifice, and grounds, July 1-8.

Chief curator Tal Erez and his colleagues in design intent make no bones or excuses about the thematic linchpin this time round. It is, simply, escapism and the festival has been given the evocative title of “Runaway Circus.”

The eight-day program, held annually under the auspices of the Jerusalem Affairs and Heritage Ministry and the Jerusalem Development Authority, and overseen by the Ran Wolf company, takes in scores of events and projects, including exhibitions, surprising synergies and live entertainment, that address a myriad of artistic, cultural and disciplinary realms of endeavor.

Erez, who has been working alongside artistic director Anat Safran, and cocurators of the Matchmaker program Daniel Nahmias and Atalya Ein Mor, believes that adopting an alternative perspective on reality is inherent to Design Week.

“This is an event which, in essence, is escapism,” he notes, although adding there is a flip side to the venture, too. “We also look inward and examine things and ask questions which we feel are significant with regard to everyday life.”

There is, Erez feels, heightened tension in our lives today generated by the delicate balancing act between the establishment and the individual.

 

“They tell us that the world is becoming increasingly gloomy, with the global climate crisis, difficult political situation, here and around the world, and all that. On the other hand, heavy responsibility now rests on the shoulders of the individual, and the actions we take in our own lives.” That, he posits, can be a little too much to take, and hence the idea of offering us some brief respite by enabling us to take the classic route out – running away to the circus – at least for a week or so.

And, while the idea of heading for the big top, and enjoying the madcap antics of a bunch of red-nosed clowns might be appealing for a while, there is apparently no getting away from the harsh facts on the ground behind the fun frontispiece. That carries over to the aesthetic approach to the Design Week arrangements.

“Through its one week of existence, Runaway Circus will explore escapism’s bright facade and dark backstage,” say the organizers, adding that seeing is not necessarily believing, noting that this year’s event “might seem to offer us a moment of ease of mind, as design also often does. But it just might also remind us that reality is inescapable, and that whatever we do is always a reflection of what we are.” Wise and sobering words indeed, which will be reflected in the props layout inside and around Hansen House.

That delicate ebb and flow dynamic was conveyed to the contributing professionals.

“We asked the designers to react to the tension,” Erez explains. “There are projects that play around with this duality, in order to bring that to the fore. There are a lot of very interesting approaches to that, such as in the Freak Show.”

That is designed to get us to think about our socially admissible values, and how we view what is considered to be in sync with acceptable behavioral codes and mores.

“We imagine there is some scale of normality to which we can relate, and these [freaks] are outside that,” Erez continues. “But the scale of normality is sometimes inaccurate – for instance, with regard to what we see as definitive gender. Do we have to accept aspects of that which we did not do so in the past? And we look at where design accommodates that. We pose questions, but Design Week also offers an abundance of viewpoints about that and other issues.”

FOR THE past few years the Matchmaker program has been one of the jewels in the event’s crown.

Since its inception Nahmias and Ein Mor have striven, as the category moniker infers, to marry the ideas and efforts of artists from different areas of creativity, with differing personal baggage, while fusing diverse schools of thought, and also trying to keep the flame of tradition burning brightly in these parts.

“Matchmaker began three years ago with five schools, in Jerusalem, from different [social and ethnic] sectors, and then we did something with businesses along Aza Street,” Nahmias explains, highlighting the street-level thinking behind the project. “We did problem-solving through design, with the Jerusalem Design Cooperative I established. That was part of the 2017 Design Week.”

That all went swimmingly, and the venture gathered pace. “In 2018 Ran Wolf asked me to run with the project, and I founded Matchmaker.”

This wasn’t just about bringing people together to create a new fusion, which isn’t a bad idea in itself. Nahmias had grander plans that addressed the history of the region, and with posterity in mind.

“I began to look for artisans who engage in traditional practices that are disappearing,” he notes. “You know, all those craftsmen that sit in their workshop and work on a single thing all day, every day, in all sorts of nooks and crannies around the city [of Jerusalem].”

There was also going to be some contemporary added value to the initiative. “I matched them with all sorts of designers, from various disciplines – not just industrial designers. There were fashion designers, graphic artists, architects and others.”

There is also some torch-bearing bestowal intent here. “The aim of this project is to create some kind of intergenerational, interdisciplinary interface which relates the story of Jerusalem.”

Nahmias began to sense that, at the end of the day, there was an invaluable human element to the whole exercise, which outweighs even the festival’s stated titular aesthetic. “I realized that what is more important than the product we get in the end is the story of the people themselves. We connect a craftsman with a contemporary designer. The designer goes to the craftsman’s workshop, takes a look at what they do. The designer studies the craft, asks questions and then creates something new from the traditional technique.”

Worlds old and new join forces to beget not only artifacts that embrace time-honored modi operandi and today’s sensibilities, but also an oxymoronic fundamentally human confluence. “Consider a super-conformist violin maker who is very orderly and methodical, and I put him together with a fashion designer with a transgender appearance who is a crazy bundle of energy, in 2018. Together they created a sort of bag collection.”

That collaborative, seemingly disparate ethos traverses ethnic, cultural and religious demarcation lines, with haredim, secular Jews, Muslims and Christians, of all ages and from all walks of life, putting their heads, hands and hearts together to produce something new and exciting.

That continues to inform the Matchmaker line of thought, including this year’s project, which is based on a culinary theme.

Intimacy is the name of the game.

“We decided to focus on restaurants and small eateries,” says Nahmias. “And I brought in Atalya Ein Mor as cocurator, and she is a well-known chef. She won an international award for her cookery book.”

Clearly the designers and crafts people in this year’s Matchmaker lineup are in good hands.

All told, this year’s project features the orchestrated efforts of seven eateries and seven designers.

“We generally aim for 10 pairs, and we end with nine. But this year, because of the coronavirus and the war, issues with the government and all sorts of things, it worked out at fewer,” Nahmias observes. “But we got through that.”

And got through it in pretty good shape, with the obstacle course process of programming producing some intriguing twinnings.

ONE SUCH twinning features Alaa Idris, a graduate in jewelry making and fashion from the Bezalel Academy of Arts and Design.

“I am a Jerusalemite,” Idris declares proudly, “and I was paired with Nazmi Abu Sabikh, who owns the Al-Najah bakery shop in the Old City.”

It was a natural matchup for both parties.

“My connection with the world of confectionary started in childhood,” Idris continues. “I grew up with these flavors.”

That led her seamlessly into Abu Sabikh’s patch. “I was delighted to get up close to the world of art behind the creation of Arabic desserts,” she adds.

Still, enthusiasm notwithstanding, there was a learning curve to be negotiated. “I watched the preparation process, and I was particularly fascinated by the precise decorations. I saw in this work creativity, meticulousness and talent.”

The bakery was an appropriate choice for Nahmias’s declared goal of preserving long-standing crafts.

“Since it opened in 1962, the Al-Najah bakery shop has safeguarded the tradition of eastern confectionary, with uncompromising attention given to the taste,” Idris explains.

Nahmias says the matchmaking was an unqualified success. “Alaa created an amazing collection of bags and jewelry items based on a material she made from the Arab sweets they make there. It all came out really well.”

The pairing of Yaron Maier and Avner Ella seems even more of a natural fit.

Thirty-year-old Jerusalem-born Maier is a well-thought-of glass artist who creates a broad range of decorative and practical implements and artifacts. He joined forces with Ella, a 75-year-old Iraqi-born resident of Givat Ze’ev who runs a successful winery.

“Avner is one of the biggest building contractors in Jerusalem, and he runs the Avner Winery,” Nahmias notes.

Once again, it was an equal and opposite state of affairs. “They are very different personalities. Yaron is a bit of a rough diamond, and Avner is a very punctilious character,” the curator laughs. “They are pretty extreme contrasts, and a beautiful wine decanter came out of this.”

There is more in the way of potent beverages in the Birkat Ha’aretz (Blessing of the Land) collaboration between internationally acclaimed award-winning Jerusalemite designer-artist Sara Shuraki-Zisken and the feted Shapiro Brewery.

“As a designer and artist I consider connections and confluences between the spiritual foundations and materials, inspired by rhythm, music, movement and other elements,” Shuraki-Zisken states. “These areas move me to connect forms, materials and colors, and lead me to find depth and spiritual significance in our lives.”

It seems the Design Week interface between the ethereal and the tangible produced artifacts of beauty that also serve a practical end.

“Sara is also a potter, and she made an enormous vessel, like an amphora, for the wine as well as a set of ceramic drinking receptacles,” Nahmias says. “When you use the cups, that enhances the flavors of the beer. It is a special project.”

That sounds like something of an understatement, and it informs the entire Design Week offering. Members of the public will not only be able to feast their eyes on some compelling designs, they will – should they choose – be able to lose themselves in a fantasy world of the circus, albeit with some reminders that sometimes escapism isn’t always what one might want it to be.

After all that social distancing business, lockdowns and all, the Matchmaker philosophy of bringing unlikely sparring partners together sounds like just the recuperative ticket.

Nahmias has expansive designs. “I spent four-and-a-half years in the army, and I walked along Palestinian streets [then and while putting this project together] in complete confidence and security. I felt as if I was bringing peace here, all on my own. This is the way. I can tell you, with complete confidence, that this project is a bridge and a perfect example of how cultural differences you have in Jerusalem are its trump card. The cultural diversity and cosmopolitanism here are our greatest asset. The only question is will we know how to get the most out of it.”