A barn owl is enveloped in a person’s palm,eyes closed. Why is it held like this, so assuredly? Is it alive or dead? A microwave niche with cables peeking out; why is it empty? Did someone take the machine out, or was this the moment
before it was put in? Motro and Kaplan Dror examine, in their separate ways, the boundaries of the domestic space within constantly moving borders, which need to be outlined anew in every moment.
Kaplan Dror begins her research with the collection of slides left by her father, who passed away when she was 20. Delving into his photographs, she could see the family’s past in a new light. Last summer, her mother died, too, and her passing has led to a substantial family crisis. The current work tracks the remaining fragments – the clipped, vague stories, the faded slides, the frayed cables, the locked door. Kaplan Dror investigates how the dead continue to leave marks on the living present and the dichotomic divide between the living and the dead.
Motro begins her study with the many encounters with wild animals in her home. Wounded animals and lost chicks end up at her house in the country, where they are cared for with the purpose of releasing them back into nature. The house has turned into some kind of a nature preserve. Motro’s family members are committed to caring for these animals, which are part of the domestic realm. The series presents the invasion of various species into the domestic space, the place that should be the safest. It was made during the COVID lockdowns and the war in Gaza in 2021, but it appears that, like the whole exhibition, it has now acquired a new significance.
The exhibition was conceived and planned before the October 2023 events, but the horrors of the past few months have cast it in a new light. It seems that since that terrible day, terms like “home,” “protection,” “invasion,” “recovery,” and “nature” have been redefined. Death has become an unwelcome guest in the lives of many, and home is no longer perceived as a safe haven.
