As I approached the old apartment building and its enchanting inner courtyard, the magic of a secret was being revealed with every step I made. The Officers' House located in Jaffa, was inhabited about 80 years ago by British officers and their families.

The ragged walls, wrapped in a solid construction, bear within them a long standing history, they retain the energy and actions of their inhabitants and are the sole evidence to the life that took place there.  An outline of a girl is painted on the walls, maybe kind of a schema of a soldier that reappears in the corners of the house like a stamp, trying to create a decoration or a personal statement.  

During the documentation process, I am searching for traces, it feels as if I am scratching the yellow and blue paint layers in order to expose the underlying, where there is no color, just black and white imagery.  Our memory is usually colorful and vibrant, it is not always real but might be the product of fantasy and wishful thinking.  As opposed to evidence, the memory appears in shimmering colors, like a peeling wall, a painting at a door and a glittering reflection.

Later on, I brought from my  home a number of items left over from my grandmother's house. My grandparents immigrated from Germany to Israel in 1938, long before I was born. They lived in Tel Aviv. Their apartment contained, among other things, household items that they brought from another world. In fact, the act of placing these household items in the officers' house, as well as their photo taken in the port of Jaffa apon their arrival, made me feel like I was bringing them back to life. I miss them even though I didn't really know them.

No Place 2014  

Curator: Anat Mandil