Drop Anchor 2011

(See also idit wagner's Manifesto)



"Drop Anchor" Video projected on a milky glass of a ship's porthole in a darkened space. 15 minutes. No Audio.


The video was filmed in the south of Jerusalem, with my back to the Jewish settlement of Har Gilo and the Palestinian village of Al–Walaja. These localities are divided by the Separation Fence though they share a common landscape, as filmed by the camera. This is a land regularly cultivated that belong to the Palestinian village of Batir which resides in Area B., a landscape and territory that is often dealt with in a political context of an artistic discourse.


Through a ship's porthole, a rocky and primeval landscape is exposed, gradually revealing plots of cultivated land on ancient terraces. This is an open landscape, considered 'natural' in everyday language. For me this scenery is my childhood Jerusalem. I feel nostalgic coming here, taking in the sights. They bring me back to a time when I was free of political or intellectual knowledge about this place and full of sensing its essence within. (idit wagner's Manifesto, brings that essence in details).

I chose to film with a hand held camera to create a sense of observing the land from a floating ship, as a passenger on a ship that had dropped anchor, no longer advancing on her journey.

The absent sound, allows the viewer's mind to wonder between thoughts and other surrounding sounds, asking for patience and determination to watch it in full. And thus calls upon our endurance as we unravel it's meaning.

The window is framing the scene in a suffocating manner, allowing only a thin strip of sky. The film traces the changing moods of the day, from the moment of sunrise to the falling of darkness. Time is distorted, stretching the experience from both ends of the day. During this time span of sunrise and sunset, the swiftest and most interesting transformations occurs in nature, in our personal life and also through history were short term events changes history in radical ways. The experience of viewing this landscape is a shared experience to the dwellers of Al–Walaja and Har–Gilo, both early in the morning before they leave their homes and in the evening after they return.


The separation fence is not recognized by Israel, the Palestinians, nor the international community as a legitimate international border, but, in many respects, de facto on the ground, it serves as such.

By filming with my back to the 'border' I leave the 'separation' behind offering a forward view of a shared perspective – one of admiration for a land that can be seen from any open window or open mind, for it's meaning and the transformations taking place therein. By changing our thoughts about what we look at we can transform our future.