Joshua Griffit"The Anchorman"Raoul and Graziella de Picciotto Building for Scientific and Technical Support 2nd floor1
In the world of journalism, “yesterday’s news” is often regarded as worthless and unimportant. That is, if the story is not reported immediately, the opportunity is missed and the “story” will be casually tossed, forgotten, and will not see the light of day. In the world of art, on the other hand, the “processing” of information and the germination of ideas can take a long time, sometimes even entire generations.
Joshua Griffit's current series of works offers an unusual hybrid between these two worlds. It could be said that this is art in real time. Art that, on the one hand, communicates current affairs, and on the other hand, an image that combines a “news” report with updates of initial feelings, connotations and “gut reactions” that pass directly, and almost unfiltered, from the thought that has not yet matured – into the hand that holds the brush.
The bitter feelings conjured up by the sight of frequently burning fields in the Gaza envelope, shrouded in helpless anger, undergo rapid transformation, and in the style of Griffit, raise heads and glare at us with sharp sarcasm. Characteristics of time – cars from the 1960s – bring us back to the innocent days when a burning field was considered a disaster that no one would dare offer to “contain.” The frivolity that Griffit attributes to contemporary policymakers is expressed in the starkness of the painting in which Minnie Mouse exclaims to the children among us, "Look, a burning field" (in the same manner as, "Look, a bird"). The remoteness and lack of understanding of the harshness of reality are attributed to policymakers who do not really share the daily suffering of the “peripherial” residents, and whose words and promises are nothing but lip service.
Aerial firefighters, falling one after another (“like flies,” as the mythical broadcaster of “The Voice of Thunder” from Cairo, said during another war – the Six-Day War), clarify that the solution to the situation is far in the distance. That our hands, at this stage, for better or for worse, fall short of salvation. Only the press photographer, who stands at the front of one of the images, meticulously dressed and focused on his work, reminds us that his professional "objectivity" is made possible because immediately after the assignment is over, he will get in his car and return north, to his home, far beyond the danger lines.
And the burnt fields – and the burning, right now – will remain the exclusive realm of the “peripheral” residents.
Curator: Yivsam Azgad