My parents, both having survived unimaginable horrors and the loss of their families in the Holocaust, met and together somehow found the optimism and strength to create a purposeful life and a close loving family. They gave me my life with hope and promise of a better world.
I had a free, safe and happy childhood, but the Holocaust has always been a looming shadow in my life.
My identity has been shaped by the ever-present memory of the family I have never met.
This art work is dedicated to members of my family who perished in the Holocaust. In particular, I tried to capture and protect the memory of Livia, my mother’s younger sister, who was only nine years old when she was sent to the death camp in Auschwitz.
Sweet Livia has no voice, no grave. Her childish smile is stolen, buried in the ground.
I wish to give her a place, far away from prejudice and hatred, racism and discrimination.
I try to create a sheltered home for her memory, where she can remain a child: hopeful and innocent. I surround her with carefree rabbits and the loving images of her parents and sister (my mother).
The silver leaves are in honour of my relatives who experienced inconceivable cruelty and dehumanisation during the Holocaust, and didn’t survive to see better days. The leaves are symbolic of growth, the value of life and of freedom for all individuals, no matter who they are, to strive for a better future.
I place a crow besides Livia’s image, to guard her memory for generations to come.
Part of crow symbolism deals with memory keeping. They have been identified as guardians of the dead and inherited the role of “soul carriers” in many myths and legends.
Crows are also messengers, capable of carrying one’s devotions and sentiments to their lost loved ones.