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On view:

Jun 30th – Aug 13th, 2022

Tel Aviv



Yossi Breger


Dvir Gallery is delighted to announce the representation of the estate of  Yossi Breger.


On this occasion, we are happy to present


Yossi Breger




Dvir Gallery Tel Aviv


June 30 – August 13, 2022

Yossi Breger (1960-2016) born in Montreuil sous Bois, France moved with his family to Tel Aviv when he was two years old. He graduated in Economics from the Hebrew University and the Bezalel Academy of Art and Design where he later became a senior lecturer at the MFA and head of the Department of Photography. His works were featured in numerous solo and group shows both in Israel and abroad; the Tel Aviv Museum of Art, the Israel Museum, the Forum des Images Paris and more. In 1996, he won The Nathan Gottesdiener Art Prize and represented Israel at the Venice Biennale in 1997. He was awarded the Prize for Artists in the Visual Arts in 2010 by the Minister of Culture and Sport.


For the full biography, click here.


Yossi Breger’s standpoint, including his bodily stance, is eminently evident in each and every image he chooses to photograph, manifesting a combination of passion and reflection. In a formal language that is wonderfully precise, Breger composes a comprehensive, profonde model of the world and a story of life out of the elementary components of human environment and culture. Landscape, spaces, structures, objects and people that he photographed in different places around the world – Tel Aviv, Berlin, Cologne, Havana, Paris, Brussels, Rome, Beijing, Stockholm – join together to produce a clear, lucid image of the world, combining measured enthusiasm for zeniths of beauty with melancholy and awareness of the fragility and finality they entail. Breger’s gaze harmoniously embraces the personal and the public, life and death; it generates a pictorial and cinematic drama that is a superb depiction of a foundational moment in which, by standing in front of a thing, one captures the conceptual, personal, social and political aspects it embodies.

– Mordechai Omer, chief curator and director of TAMA (1995-2011)

For Breger, the medium of photography inherently contains a dimension of abstraction.  Both the act of photography and the viewing of the photograph create a “space-time point of dissociation on the continuum that exists outside of it,’ isolating the photographed object from its immediate context and creating a certain abstraction. The point of dissociation in the production of the photograph enables an examination of both the detail and the continuum from which it has been taken. That is to say, exposing the details tells us about our perception of reality, but also highlights the photographer’s specific point of view.


– Hagai Ulrich

Breger used to exhibit photographs of objects or sites that were often dissociated from their local, temporal, and cultural contexts – contexts that he called “folklore.” In this way, he emphasized the structural and disrupted the textual continuity that enfolded the construction. He did this to achieve something that was beyond “the drama of ‘the person in the space of things’. Breger was interested in the mode and the structure of the thing, its abstract whole, which is invisible within the quotidian and the continuity.


– Hagai Ulrich

Yossi Breger
Yossi Breger, ficus trees, chen boulevard, tl aviv, 2009
Yossi Breger
Yossi Breger, flute player, havana, 2007
Yossi Breger, aviva, mother, ariella and yossi, keren keyemet, TA, 1963, gordon street, TA, 2010
Yossi Breger, Audrey Hepburn Angel on Earth, Beijing, 2009
Yossi Breger, playground, paris, 2008
Yossi Breger, Street Light, Stockholm, 2010, 48x70 cm, unique
Yossi Breger, Wine Glass, Cologne, 2007, 20x30 cm, Edition of 5
Yossi Breger, Woman (Nymph), The Neptune Fountain, Alexanderplatz, Berlin, 2007, 54x79 cm, unique
Yossi Breger, flowers in a vase, kassel, 2007
Yossi Breger, Girl (detail from A Shepherdess, Paulus Moreelse, 1630), Stedelijk Museum
Yossi Breger, woman on a sarcophagus, piazza dei miracoli, pisa, 2010
Yossi Breger
Yossi Breger
Yossi Breger
Yossi Breger


[…] Breger brings writing, divested of its calligraphic unity, unto a state of disunity with itself. In his pieces, the letters, words, and sentences should be read as signs; at the same time they become massive, autonomous, and obtrusive entities which obstruct recognizability by means of visibility. The writing is alienated from itself, a reflection of the object’s persistent evading of any representation and a means of their – non-similar – reconstruction..

– Ulrich Loock, director of Kunsthalle Bern (1985-2010)

I like to see writing as an object in the air, as something that’s different from writing in a book. Looking at a written text you don’t see the writing itself. The only thing you see is the meaning. You aren’t looking for the words themselves, the existence of the real thing. I like to use painting as well as photography for words, which are considered as non-objects. This layer which is paint makes writing feel like a still-life. I want to look at it this way. I want the work to disturb. And I want you to ask yourself the question you already asked: why?

Selected Exhibitions

Over the years, Breger had many solo exhibitions and his works were widely exhibited in group shows as well. He was featured in exhibitions at the Tel Aviv Museum of Art; the Israel Museum; the Venice Biennale of Art; Forum des Images, Paris; Haifa Museum of Art; Umm al-Fahm Gallery of Art; Ackland Art Museum, North Carolina; and the Herzliya Museum of Contemporary Art, among others. 

~ ~ ~

A Guide for the Perplexed, Homonyms

Solo exhibition in Dvir Gallery, 2016

In this exhibition, Breger continued to explore the concept of “storyboarding” through language and image, examining sets of layouts that manifest the hidden formula of a whole through the sequencing of individual parts. Breger seeks to uncover the covert skeletal infrastructure that underlies each of the parts while governing their combination together.


The Jewish philosopher Maimonides (Córdoba, Spain, 1135 or 1138 – Cairo, 1204), in the first part of his Guide to the Perplexed (Cairo, 1191), discusses a limited group of words with multiple meanings (homonyms). The words he discusses, while rudimentary and trivial seeming, are supposed to hold clues for a deeper understanding of the parables recounted in the biblical Book of Prophets, an understanding that can reconcile the apparent contradiction between scholarly knowledge as held by the believer and the non-believer.


Breger’s installation features 18 words selected from the first part of the Maimonides’s book, all taken from the 43 chapters (out of 76 in total) where he discusses at length either a single word or several of them. Each word appears on a paper, defined by a square of black ink – a shape that is both elemental and sophisticated and carries major cultural and scientific significances – with the whole sequence following the ordering of the words in Maimonides’s book. The whole that emerges uncovers an underlying structure that sheds light on several fundamental contours of human existence, drawing the outlines of an abstract body while touching on elements of life and culture, truth and proportion.

Five out of the 18 words are highlighted, forming something of a “shortlist” that reformulates the underlying structure on an even higher, more succinct level than the one articulated by the larger group. (Yossi Breger: “face is the body, the physical; full is the thing we want, the passion; sadness is emotion, an exemplar of the feelings and the mind; chair is culture; and wind is nature”).


According to Maimonides, the abstract concept of the whole constitutes a step in the way towards a higher understanding of the concept of deity. For Maimonides, this insight into the whole – a hidden formula underlying all things – is comparable to a lightning stroke or to momentary flashes that spark light in the great and inherent darkness.


“Because there is a close affinity between these subjects [the natural elements] and metaphysics, and indeed they form part of its mysteries. Do not imagine that these most difficult problems can be thoroughly understood by any one of us. This is not the case. At times the truth shines so brilliantly that we perceive it as clear as day. Our nature and habit then draw a veil over our perception, and we return to a darkness almost as dense as before. We are like those who, though beholding frequent flashes of lightning, still find themselves in the thickest darkness of the night.” (Maimonides, from the introduction to Guide to the Perplexed; translated by Michael Friedländer, 1881)

~ ~ ~


Group exhibition in Dvir Gallery, 2015

~ ~ ~

Time is not money

Solo exhibition in Dvir Gallery, 2014

The exhibition presented 130 photographs, mostly taken in the last three years, from various places around the world Paris, Tel Aviv, Tokyo, Shanghai, Berlin, Frankfurt, Athens, Amsterdam, Cologne, Brussels, Madrid among others.


The photographs were taken in the course of everyday life and depict landscapes, buildings, spaces, objects and people; the foundations of any human system. Each image thoughtfully and harmoniously describes a chosen thing in its specific time and place, and yet includes within it the further, ideal and conceptual dimension, in which each object represents a fundamental cultural category: the Book, the Window, the Picture, the Landscape, and so on. The exhibition attempts to make what may be photography’s strongest quality — its ability to create consciousness — ever more present. During the years, this quality developed greatly and its use has become ever more sophisticated.

The photographic installation creates a story-like reading environment with a circular and hierarchical structure, which advances from each photograph’s story to the subnarratives of each photo group and finally joins into the sphere of the basic, whole narrative. The various hierarchical story-lines examine the status of the single, independent photograph in itself, as a concept and as a life event, while also examining its place in relation to the other images, and in relation to a general human cultural system.

The installation and combinations of images aims to follow the process in which pictures accumulate into content, or into abstract yet simple, coherent system that articulates a surrealist and yet understandable story, which exceeds any specific thing, time, or place. All together, it creates a whole that defines a procedure, that becomes a model for a world in human proportion, which communicates an outline of the being, movement and thought of as if “everyone” in relation to the world and its “things”, culture and nature, to the general human system.

~ ~ ~

And there was evening And there was morning, One day

Solo exhibition at the Tel Aviv Museum of Art, 2011 

The exhibition presented 159 photos, all new, in various formats, taken since 2007 in various places around the world—Tel Aviv, Berlin, Cologne, Havana, Paris, Brussels, Rome, Beijing, Stockholm—in the course of daily life. The photos—of landscapes, buildings, spaces, objects, people—tell a story of being in front of a thing, the fundamental things that form the infrastructure of human environment.


They are precise and thoughtful, articulated in pictorial, emotional and classical formal language; their accumulation creates a general conceptual model of a life story and a world, time–space relations constructed by light and revealing a personal and sensual touch with elements of nature and culture. 

I am interested in the environments and systems people set up for themselves, their flow and function. And when I see, I usually also photograph, mostly without any local elements. Much like Beckett’s stories: there’s a man, there’s a woman, there’s a hill, there’s a house, there’s a hat, there’s a walking cane—all of which are generic and skeletal, without any identificatory properties, and yet there is a statement in the compilation of all these places. All of them, from various aspects, have things I think about positively—again, in a general way. It is in no way an attempt to present a heaven on earth.

Repetitions… That is the underlying basis of everything. It starts with day and night, with the movements of the planets one around the other and the cycles of nature: they are repetitive. There is not even one distinguishable thing in culture or nature that does not repeat itself. We need things to be like other things. Hence the human obsession for mapping and categorization. For a thing to get our attention it needs to be part of a defined group; only then can we recognize it, only then does it become something we can think about, only then does it gain significance.  It must be of a type, similar to something you have seen before, which is only natural: one couldn’t digest the endless singular details in nature […]. Variants enrich the world. I seem to repeat scenes, objects, positions—but in fact it’s the world that’s repeating itself in front of my eyes.

Yossi Breger in conversation with Gilit Fischer and Eitan Boganim (Part 1, in Hebrew)

[…] I look for a well-constructed, even seemingly staged image, in real life—an image that has a pictorial quality and meaning. Things need to be composed in a precise manner, so that everything may have a distinct place in the frame’s order of things, and thus also in our mind and memory. When you see this image I would like you, the viewer, to think of all these classical categories, so that you may, through them, see a whole, a general model. Through the basic things you experience in daily life, I would like these categories to lead you to general, skeletal, somewhat abstract story, perhaps a surreal one, and construct everybody’s story of life—the “big picture.” What turns these things into a story is the feeling of the passage of time as you watch familiar places and objects. This generates a sense of observing the system, or human culture, through very specific representative details.

~ ~ ~

The Nathan Gottesdiener Foundation Israeli Art Prize

Solo exhibition at the Tel Aviv Museum of Art, 1996 

In this exhibition, Yossi Breger presented painterly series of textual works in which Breger, like the tailor-artisan, works with fabric and tailor’s scissors, by means of which, using words and numbers, he creates a narrative structure that has been completely divested of its narrative content and remains like an abstract skeleton, a congealed mold engraved on the memory which, by constantly duplicating itself, thwarts any possibility of divulging its truth. The letter and numbers refer us back to a fabric of recollections as impenetrable as the black fabric from which they were cut out. 

The major works of the exhibition are that of the series Etude pour un Premier amour. The appropriation and quotation from Beckett and his work Premier amour introduces writing into the painterly field that becomes a matter of displacement. […] Writing appears in two modes in these six works, differentiated by the size and placing of the lines: once in the form of a caption, as in an illustrated publication, giving the title, year, technique, and measurements; and once in the form of a substitute for the missing representation, a writing-image (rendered as mirror writing) in the center of the picture.

Yossi Breger




Dvir Gallery Tel Aviv


June 30 – August 13, 2022


Tuesday – Thursday: 10:00 – 17:00

Friday, Saturday: 11:00 – 14:00

For more information, please contact

‘Under the Volcano’ – ראה שמש לעת ערב אדומה



תחילת דברים אחרונים’ – לרות אלמוג’ – ‘Non, seulement de temps en temps’

On view:

Oct 30th – Dec 04th, 2021

Tel Aviv



‘כרמל’ – Carmel



News from Home

On view:

Feb 06th – Mar 20th, 2021

Thursday to Saturday by appointment

Please book a visit by email at international@dvirgallery.com or by phone at +972 36 043 003


News from Home

On view:

Dec 03rd, 2020 – Jan 14th, 2021

Thursday to Saturday by appointment

Please book a visit by email at international@dvirgallery.com or by phone at +972 36 043 003


Je me souviens (online)

The Novel Je me Souviens is an ode to life: the ordinary, the extraordinary, the trivial and the crucial. Pleasure of remembering moments lived, experiences had, stories heard, facts learned, secrets overheard, encounters shared is the true subject of this exhibition. Paul Aster said that ‘to read Georges Perec one must be ready to abandon oneself to a spirit of play’.


Dvir Gallery invites you to take a leap to this spirit with us and share with us via e-mail your own memories after Perec’s lead.


Please find some of the memories of our viewers below the images.

« I remember that Saint Crispin and Saint Crispinian are the patron saints of shoe-makers. »


« I remember pink dress shirts. And bola ties. »


« I remember when polio was the worst thing in the world. »


« I remember that Stendhal liked spinach. »


« I remember when a kid told me that those sour clover-like leaves we used to eat (with little yellow flowers) tasted so sour because dogs peed on them. »


« I remember beard tennis: you counted the number of beards you spotted in the street: 15 for the first, 30 for the second, 40 for the third, and “game” for the fourth. »



fragments from Je me souviens by Georges Perec, 1978


Douglas Gordon, ‘Molotov action, Jerusalem stone’, 2012

Moshe Ninio, documentation of ‘Morgen cycle’ - ‘Morgen’, 2010-2015

« I remember my kindergarten teacher Shula cleaning me after a food-fight telling me ‘you are a savage that’s what you are’. »

− Yotam Intrator


« I remember wanting to be as tall as my father. »

− Aleksandra Bikont


« I remember my first piano lesson with this Russian teacher. I was five. »

− Shifra Shalit


« I remember all names of my book heroes and not of my school mates. »

− Anna Bikont


« Je me souviens de la première exposition de Douglas Gordon à la galerie Dvir à Tel Aviv, c’était en 1998 je crois… Aujourd’hui j’ai dans ma collection l’ensemble des oeuvres de cette exposition: text wall et vidéos. »

− Philippe Cohen


« I remember seeing a business man getting his necktie swallowed by a ticket machine in Washington DC’s subway. »

− Chaya Hazan


« I remember that as a child I really enjoyed blackouts. »

− Ron Arad


« Je me souviens de ma rencontre avec Maria Calas chez mes parents au Mali. »

− Simona



− Maya Shmailov


« Je me souviens de caresses dans les cheveux qui semblaient suspendre l’infinité du temps. »

− Denis Gardarin


« I remember my first attempts in composing letters, the excitement in deciphering the signs in the streets or titles in my parents’ newspaper. »

− Nehama Burak


« Je me souviens de cette tempête au large du Cap Finisterre qui nous faisait douter d’accoster un jour à Madère. »

− Pierre Boucher


« Je me souviens des carnets avec les numéros de téléphone que je relisais.

Je me souviens de déambulations dans Paris.

Je me souviens d’endroits où je ne suis pas allée et de moments que je n’ai pas vécus.

Je me souviens de mes rêves de liberté.

Je me souviens des gens que j’ai eu la chance de croiser même sur de minuscules périodes.

Je me souviens de certaines de mes lectures et relectures.

Je me souviens de nos disparus même ceux que je n’ai pas connus.

Je me souviens des cartes postales qu’on envoyait.

Je me souviens de moments de peau à peau avec mes enfants.

Je me souviens de leurs odeurs.

Je me souviens de confidences partagées.

Je me souviens du regard de douceur de mon amie Judith et de l’infinie tendresse de ma grand-mère.

Je me souviens d’images imprécises.

Je me souviens d’un autre siècle.

Je me souviens d’images certainement idéalisées.

Je me souviens d’histoires d’amour douloureuses.

Je me souviens de larmes de désespoir.

Je me souviens de moments d’amour comme des moments de plénitude.

Je me souviens d’aventures humaines magiques.

Je me souviens des yeux qui m’ont regardée.

Je me souviens de conversations échangées comme de musiques que j’aimais à l’oreille.

Je me souviens d’envies d’ailleurs.

Je me souviens de blessures inguérissables.

Je me souviens d’errances.

Je me souviens de lectures qui m’ont apaisées ou transcendées.

Je me souviens de peintures dans lesquelles j’ai plongé.

Je me souviens d’expositions qui m’ont nourrie.

Je me souviens de rencontres fortes avec le travail de certains artistes.

Je me souviens de passions et d’enthousiasme qu’elles ont pu déclencher.

Je me souviens d’interrogations qu’elles ont suscitées.

Je me souviens de longues périodes de rêverie. »

− Edwige Benamou


« I remember my regular visits to the Zoo in Tel Aviv (Shderot Keren Kayement) very young age 3-4 with my Polish speaking uncle who ran an animal shop at the entrance to the Zoo. »

− Rivka Saker


« I remember the day I left. »

− Paula Karelic


« I remember when I melted. »

− Olivia Hild


« Je me souviens de ne pas oublier d’aimer. »

− Anne Boucher


« Je me souviens du première arbre que j’ai planté. »

− Alexandre Rouhaud


« I remember my first time at the Metropolitan Museum, I was 6 years old and I told my mom that I was not feeling well. She asked me: “what are you feeling?” I answered: “it is too beautiful”. »

− Vivian Gandelsman


« Je me souviens de la sensation de ma main dans celle de mon père à 4 ans. »

− Suzon Ingber


« Je me souviens du soleil sur ma peau, assise à la terrasse d’un café.
Je me souviens du temps où embrasser nos amis n’avait qu’une question : 2 ou 4 bises.
Je me souviens du bruit de la ville qui berçait mes jours et mes nuits.
Je me souviens des déambulations dans les boutiques sans vraiment vouloir rien acheter.
Je me souviens où tout ceci ne nous faisaient pas peur… »

− Nathalie Elcabas


« I remember the moment you fell asleep. You left me alone counting the last few minutes. »

− Adi Fluman


« I remember that at the age of eight, our neighbour, the great-grandson of the Rabi of Goor warned me that God is watching me! »

− Edna Mosenson


« Me acuerdo de la emoción que me mantuvo despierta toda la noche luego de experimentar mi primer beso amoroso. Tenía 12 años.. »

− Irene Kronenberg


« I remember getting lost and being fine with it. »

− Darnell Ross


« Je me souviens de tout. »

« I remember everything. »

− Laurent Maillaud


« I remember a squirrel run over so flat that it looked like it was painted on the road. »

− Jenifer Bar Lev


« I remember my mother’s nostrils widening when she returned home after parents teacher meeting. »

− Zeev Tene


« I remember last night, I remember lust. »

− Miri Segal


« I remember holding you for the first time, seeing a tiny-immense infinity in your being, and understanding what endless love truly means. »

− Arie Elbelman Rozental


« I remember I was camping with my father in the south of France, I found 10 francs on the ground. »

− Nelly Agassi


« I remember seeing Jaffa while on my grandmother’s back from the Mediterranean. »

− Dor Guez


« I remember the protests. »

− Ruth Anderwald & Leonhard Grond


« I remember the very first exhibition I went in my life, a Claude Monet show at Museu Nacional de Belas Artes (MNBA) in Rio de Janeiro. I loved it so much that I went back many times and in one of these visits I won a prize for being the visitor to break the institution’s public attendance record. »

− Yuri Oliveira


« I remember my first “grown up behavior”: changing my little sister’s diaper.. I was 4 and a half years old. »

− Galila Barzilaï-Hollander


« Je me souviens de mon père m’amenant marcher dans le brouillard un matin, au lieu de me conduire à l’école. »

− Jean-Baptiste Carobolante


« Je me souviens du moment où tous les invités de l’émission de télévision ‘Droit de réponse’ de Michel Polac parlaient en même temps. Je me souviens que cette image me revenait régulièrement à l’esprit au début de ma vie à Berlin où l’un attend patiemment la fin de la phrase de l’autre, jusqu’au point. Je me souviens que cela me gênait horriblement au début, ce silence et ne pas être interrompue. »

− Marie-Blanche Carlier


« I remember my father telling us, when in the top of the mountain, to take a deep breath… and then, to breath out. »

− Gabriella Binia


« I remember my grandmother sweetness, quite often. »

− Arnaud Bozzini


« I remember shaking your hand, a possible new friend. »

− Aviva Neuman


« I remember hugging you. »

− Naama Tsabar


« I remember walking to Brooklyn over the Manhattan bridge during the black out. »

− Sarah Strauss


« I remember the midnight I was lost in Paris and the Metro was already closed, I was 12. (and there were no cellphones back then) »

− Assaf Evron


« I remember a small girl standing at the entrance between two rooms looking at mum and Tzvika dancing. »

− Yudith Levin


« I remember the bathroom in my mother’s workplace, there was a niche I wanted to move into. »

− Orly Sever


« I remember summer time, Soviet Union just before the Perestroika. I am sitting in a full size barrel full with water at my grandparent’s summer house, dacha, cooling myself, feeling wonderful. »

− Rufina Valery Valsky


« Sarajevo, Sarajevo, seher Bosno, volim te… »

Je me souviens de l’été 1993 à Sarajevo : la caméra de Benjamin Filipovic, le sourire de Redina, sa femme et de Mak leur fils ; le Nikon de Milomir Kovacevic, « Strasni » fixant sur la pellicule les visages et les pierres ; le fusain de Seyo-Sead Cizmic glissant sur le papier, la voix de Gertruda Munitic, les doigts courant sur les cordes d’un violoncelle, les rires des Nadrealisti ; les yeux des enfants de l’institut d’éducation spécialisée… le parfum, le vacarme silencieux de la guerre.

« Que sont mes amis devenus / Que j’avais de si près tenus / Et tant aimés / Ils ont été trop clairsemés / Je crois le vent les a ôtés / L’amour est morte /… / Pauvre sens et pauvre mémoire » (Rutebeuf, 1230-1285)

− Philippe Tanguy


« I remember a penalty, not particularly difficult I jumped to the right corner but I was a second too late and I felt the ball gently slipping under my body. »

− Dvir Intrator


« I remember the winds over the Strait of Gibraltar. »

− Ruth Marques


« I remember the taste of the corn boiled by my grandmother. It tasted diamond. »

− Mircea Cantor


« I remember reading the Diary of Eva Heyman to my children in March 2020. And I said to myself we are still living in paradisiaque times. »

− Mircea Cantor


« I still remember the first time… »

− Jonathan Monk


« I remember my visit to Orhan Pamuk’s Museum of Innocence in Istanbul; A real memory of an actual event and a concrete place, where I was completely immersed in the physical memorabilia of a character that never existed, collected by another character that never existed in order to remember events that never took place. »

− Tchelet Semel


« I remember that when I was a child I loved to read. Not only children’s books also for grownups. My father didn’t believe that I actually read and understood them. He used to test me on them, trying to see if I really remember what was in the book. I did. He was filled with pride and amazement. To this day I remember well all sort of unimportant facts. Dates, names, battles from History. It’s not important at all today in the Google era but it’s important to my father. My father loves Trivia. He loves things that you can measure. It relaxes him. Every couple of nights he calls or txts me with a Trivia question. “Who was Churchill’s foreign minister during the second world war?” He doesn’t think about checking Google, or maybe he does, and he just acts like he doesn’t. It makes him happy that I know. It fills him with pride. And I, almost 40 years old now, I still want my father to be proud of me. To be happy. So, I remember. And if I don’t remember I check on Google and act as if I remember and then I remember that same feeling of pride from my childhood, and that, is the memory from which all other memories come. »

− Yonatan Esterkin


« I remember the night after seeing Jeanne Moreau walking in Elevator to the Gallows. »

− Yana Rotner


« I remember sailing leaf boats with stone people in the river I made in my grandparents yard. »

« I remember my first kiss with you. »

− Elham Rokni


« … I just remembered today when I put down an electric drilling machine on my oldest sister’s newly put in ‘wall to wall carpeting’ in 1976 – the drill had not completely stopped and subsequently pulled up the carpet and made a huge hole… I felt so bad… »

− David Neuman


« À l’approche de Pâques, je me souviens de ma première vision de la barbarie dont l’homme était capable, le regard d’un enfant de huit ans. J’ai passé les vacances de Pâques dans la région de Gand avec ma grand-mère paternelle que j’adorais. Chaque matin, surtout pendant cette période où les œufs occupaient beaucoup nos pensées, je disais bonjour à nos poules et voyais si elles nous avaient gentiment donné des œufs. Un matin, en regardant par la fenêtre, j’ai vu une de nos poules courir dans l’allée sans tête et à quelques pas derrière le jardinier la poursuivre. J’appelle ma grand-mère paniquée qui m’explique que c’est normal et que cet acte est nécessaire avant de déplumer puis de cuire le poulet. Après cet incident, j’ai regardé et je me suis méfié du jardinier même s’il essayait de m’adoucir en nous cueillant des fleurs. »

− Geneviève Barriol


A memory inspired by Dor Guez’s Samira, 2020

« I remember my Moroccan grandmother’s soft hands adorned by distinct gold jewellery that seemed to me, as a kid, that it came from another place, another era. She was a Samira in her own right. »

− Ayelet Elstein


« I remember the first snow of the year, which was usually during the night. I remember my mother waking me up and telling me: “Look Gaby, it snowed!”

And me running to the window. Magic. »

− Gabriela Vanga


« I remember deciding not to settle down for a long time. »

− Zuzana Špoutilová


« I remember the taste of sweet tooth paste. »

− Shai-Lee Horodi


« I remember my grand mother throwing candy at me and at the rest of the kids from her window. Our class was visiting the town’s archaeological museum which was located under a poor project building. »

− Noa


« Je me souviens d’un galop sur la plage avec Michka. Nous volions. »

− Fabienne Cymerman


« I remember the tears of George Steiner. That one day, when we went to Chantilly. At first he wondered why I wanted to go, to take him there. In all these years, living in Paris between 1938 and 1940, and then visiting again many times, teaching, lecturing, he had never visited the musée Condé. I reckoned that he might be interested in having a look at the extraordinary library, so I inquired, and it happened. We visited the museum – George was somehow interested. And then we went to the library – a part of the castle that is normally closed to the public. He was shown a few medieval manuscripts, and, after them, an edition of the Caesar’s Commentaries on the Gallic War, which had belonged to Montaigne centuries before making its way to the library of the duc d’Aumale. George asked shyly: « Could I hold it in my hands? », « Yes, of course », the curator of the library responded. George was standing next to a window, and it was a sunny day. He held the book to his face, looking at all of Montaigne’s handwritten commentaries on these Commentaries. The light touched his face, and there I saw, under his eye, shining like a diamond, a teardrop. »

− Donatien Grau


« I remember when I lay in bed and my body didn’t have any borders. »

− Joanna Jones


« I remember the giant mosquito being quiet and still on the ceiling and me breathing below, pink red orbs moving in my body as I sat on the chair, whilst Manu Chao was playing distantly through the window, softly in a neighbours apartment – and in my mind, I was imagining what your skin would feel like against mine, purple against green, merging together into something new. »

− Sivan Lavie


« I remember what I forgot. »

− Els Vermang


« I remember forgetting you. »

− Sam Steverlynck


« I remember Pierre Huyghe’s ‘After Life Ahead’ @ the 2017 Skulptur Projekte in Münster, a unique artistic experience, a deep break with everything I had known in art until then. »

− Ami Barak


« I remember traffic jams.

Motor boys and girls with tans

Nearly-was and almost-rans

I remember this

History is made

History is made to seem unfair »

− Omer Fast

R.E.M. (‘I remember California)


− Thomas Hirschhorn


« I remember when ‘Atlas’ chewing-gum at ten cents was a dream coming true. »

− Noa


« I remember the paths between Dganya and Kineret. »

− Ofra Tene


« I remember the thoughts of Virgil at the port of Brundisium. »

− Lior Gal


« I remember every single moment I fell under the spell of a piece of art or music; that precious moment when my inner coordinate system is luminous. »

− Kira Marina Von Bismarck


« Je me souviens… de pas grand chose en fait. Sans doute à cause de ce drôle de moment du temps où nous sommes tous, tellement, tellement avec nous-mêmes que nous en sommes asphyxiés. Trop de nous. J’ai beau chercher depuis des jours, je ne me souviens de rien. La seule chose qui vient c’est ce très lointain souvenir, un des tous premiers, ce moment particulier, enfant, dans une école catholique St-Roch rue St Roch près des Tuileries qui acceptait dans les années 60 en cours d’année les petits juifs d’Algérie. Je me souviens avoir appris le signe de croix et le refaire ouaté sous la table du vendredi soir. Je me souviens être allée à la messe ? Pas si sûr, mais avoir demandé si Jeanne d’Arc était juive, oui, ça oui. Peut-être l’était-elle ? Je me souviens de cela car nous sommes plusieurs milliards d’individus aujourd’hui à être dans le brouillard et que nous cherchons (où nous nous accrochons) à des signes. Ce même brouillard m’entoure souvent en Israel ou je ne comprends pas toute la langue, ou je suis dans la ouate ou disons du houmous, je me souviens de cela parce qu’on peut toujours être presque asphyxié et respirer quand même, doucement. »

− Valérie Abecassis


« I remember the first time I saw BatSheva dance company performing “Echad Mi Yodea” by Ohad Naharin. I fell in love. »

− Nehama Karpol-Burak


« I remember wanting to be impenetrable. Je me souviens le tube du dentifrice chez mes parents. »

− Suzy Shammah


« I remember the sun. »

− Federico Acal


« I remember us in 1976, December, in Yosemite Park, California, saving a squirrel from an eagle that attacked it, and wondering years after, did we do the right thing, to interfere with nature? »

« I remember us, left alone on the lawn, while everybody else went back to class, the bell rang to say break is over. we were almost 18 and I wasn’t at all prepared for that, why did I stay outside? You said: let’s go, and I followed you to the nearby wood as if under a spell. Lately I told you how I regret the wasted years before this. »

− Irit Braude



Share with us your own memories by clicking on this link.

Voyage Autour de ma Chambre (online)

« How glorious it is to blaze a new trail, and suddenly to appear in learned society, a book of discoveries in one’s hand, like an unforeseen comet flashing through space!

— No, I will no longer keep my book in petto: here it is, gentlemen.

Read it. I have just completed a forty-two-day voyage around my room.

The fascinating observations I made and the endless pleasures I experienced along the way made me wish to share my travels with the public […] Words cannot describe the satisfaction I feel in my heart when I think of the infinite number of unhappy souls for whom I am providing a sure antidote to boredom and a palliative to their ills. For the pleasure of travelling around one’s room is beyond the reach of man’s restless jealousy: it depends not on one’s material circumstance.

Indeed, is there anyone so wretched, so forlorn as not to have some sort of garret in which to withdraw and hide from the world? For such is all that is required for travel.

I am certain that all sensible men will adopt my system, regardless of disposition or temperament. Whether they be miserly or prodigal, rich or poor, young or old, born in the torrid zone or neat the pole, they can travel as I do. »


fragment from Voyage Around My Room by Xavier de Maistre


Adel Abdessemed, 'Solitude', 2015

Simon Fujiwara, 'Rehearsal for a Reunion', 2011-2012

Pallaksh Pallaksh (I don’t know just where I’m going)