WEEK 175 – January 16 to January 23, 2024

Sudha Padmaja Francis

Our Courtroom South Africa presents its case against Israel at ICJ – Source: Live streaming video of SABC News.

Manuela Morgaine

Our Kids – the color of peace. Installation, Paris, le 7.5, 18/12/2023 (video, 15’15mn)

After forty days of silence, astonishment and despair in the face of the atrocities on both sides in our Middle East which is particularly dear to me, came a gesture, a reaction, some form to be carried out as a sign of resistance and ceremonial.The casting of children’s bodies in lead sheets representing child victims of war in Gaza and in the same space-time, the musical creation with my musician accomplice Michaël Grébil Liberg, in which I pronounce the names of the Israeli child hostages. A visual and sound installation in a single room to bring them together. And then a reading of Frank Smith’s GAZA, by then written ten years ago and which continues to resonate today. This Whole Together, OUR KIDS, because on both sides, these children are ours.
The pomegranate is just as much a mystical fruit, fertility and paradise for the Hebrews as for the Palestinians, a weapon that pulverizes everything, turns bodies into lead.
Materials : Lead sheets 0,1 mm/0,5mm/0,75mm/1mm & fresh pomegranates.

Liza Dimbleby

Kasia Ozga

Carcass found rusting in the woods, on the North Carolina and Virginia State line, near Milton NC. The Ford Model A was a resounding market success; it replaced the Model T, with almost 5 million vehicles sold from 1927 to 1932. Considering using generative AI to fill it with wax or flowers or feathers and tar. Thinking anything so easy is a form of stealing. Berating myself for being so conservative. Reflecting on why my lens is always aimed at ruins and leftovers and things that fall apart.

Ruth Maclennan

It was the evening of my second full day in Longyearbyen. For a brief moment it looked like autumn though the icy wind suggested it was turning. I walked down to the shore again hoping to glimpse a whale or just to look out to sea. The town is much more industrial than I had expected and I wanted to turn my back on it for a while, to forget the strangeness and how far away from home I was and to feel connected by the sea.  I scrambled up the steep mound that resembled a rubbish dump (it was), leaving behind the parked snowmobiles and canoes, the pallets, fuel cans and bits of scrap metal, and came upon a little cabin overlooking the fjord. There was a lot of bustling going on and several young people speaking English and looking purposeful. Sitting in her little room, Venka was keeping them busy and showing them what to do. Venka came to Svalbard many years ago and has no intention of ever leaving.