Guy Illouz is one of the victims who was kidnapped to Gaza. Here’s how one artist deals with it.
Breathing life into
How does it feel to be close and far to someone at the same time? Someone you don’t know at all, but still feel connected to – like a brother.
The artist Yehudit Shlomo from Ramat Gan can tell us about it. Surprisingly and unexpected, but once it started, there was no going back.
Like many people in Israel, she was in shock for days after the Hamas attack on October 7th, in which a relative was also killed. Her everyday life changes: from fear of the rockets from Gaza, her five children stay at home in distance learning, squeezed around the only table in the living room. Yehudit hardly has any space left for herself and her work. But with every day her desire to contribute something grows. To take part in the collective pain and overcome the trauma through active actions.
Initiative of artists’ associations
An initiative by two artist associations finally frees her from the tight spot: the photos of 203 Israelis kidnapped into the Gaza Strip are to be repainted. To increase public awareness of them. Each artist is assigned a photo of an abductee and a portrait is to be created within a few days. Yehudit signs up and receives the photo of Guy Illouz, 26 years old.
She has never seen Guy before, doesn’t know where he lived or how he ended up in the hands of Hamas. But when she sees the photo, she immediately feels connected to him. It’s now her mission to breathe new life into him. On the way to the printer shop, where she rushes to print the photo in time, she feels heaven’s support. The shop is still open shortly before 6 p.m., and when the owner finds out about the initiative, he insists on printing the picture for free.
The next day, the painter goes to Tel Aviv, where dozens of artists have gathered at the museum forecourt to work together on the portraits. There is a mood of unity and cohesion. Relatives of those kidnapped are also there, as are people who were evacuated from their homes in the south because of the threat of war. A large Shabbat table is placed in the center of the square. It is set for 203 people and is intended to symbolize that the abductees’ place with their families remains empty at the moment (Editor’s note: By today the number has risen to 243).
Yehudit feels welcomed and accepted – even though she is the only one here wearing religious clothing and holding a prayer book in her hand. That wasn’t always the case in Tel Aviv, the country’s secular stronghold. But now, in these times of war, these differences no longer matter. Everyone is here to create something together. There are only five hours left as the picture has to be submitted the next day.
Choice of background
How do you choose the background? In the photo Yehudit uses as a template, Guy is standing in front of a snow-covered mountain, probably on a trip to the Himalayas. Should she paint a red background that symbolizes the fire of war? Or mosques reminiscent of Gaza, where Guy is held in captivity? No, the artist decides, Guy remains in front of the snow mountains, in freedom – where he belongs.
With every brush stroke, her connection to Guy strengthens. She recognizes him as her Jewish brother and feels close and distant to him at the same time. She has to interrupt her work several times, stops and cries. The watercolors she uses run down the picture like tears. “Guy, come home!” she pleads to heaven. Painting and prayer mix – until the picture is created.
It will be part of the exhibition and will then be presented to Guy’s family.
Back home, Yehudit writes a poem and a personal prayer. In the Psalms she finds a verse with Guy’s name, which translates to “valley.” “Though I walk in the valley overshadowed by death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me. Your rod and your staff – they comfort me,” it says.
Guy’s name for prayers: Guy Jaakov Israel ben LevanaYehudit Shlomo’s works can be found here: www.yehuditsart.etsy.com
