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"White Flag", Sigal Eshet-Shafat’s New Exhibition: Memory, Healing, and Tribute

  • Writer: Caroline Haïat
    Caroline Haïat
  • 1 hour ago
  • 4 min read
Sigal Eshet-Shafat
Sigal Eshet-Shafat

Israeli flags under unexpected forms, works inspired by childhood photographs, and fabric assemblages — artist Sigal Eshet-Shafat, a native of Rosh Pina, unveils “White Flag”, an extraordinary exhibition inaugurated on November 7 at the Yosef Weizman Gallery in Givataim. This event brings together her own creations and those of her parents, displayed in mirrored symmetry on opposite walls — the works echoing and perpetuating one another across time. Eshet-Shafat’s pieces focus on subtle shades of white, abstract geometry, and the illusion of emptiness — revealing her inner landscape.


Both deeply personal and universal, the exhibition aspires to a collective healing for Israel, a nation still recovering from a severe pandemic and years of war. Born of an introspective process rooted in memory, lineage, and creation, White Flag also stands as a tribute to her parents: her father Mola Eshet, the legendary fashion photographer who passed away last year, and her mother Dalia Eshet, a painter who died four years ago.


Upon entering, visitors are greeted by a selection of Mola Eshet’s photographs, taken over different periods of his career — desert landscapes, black-and-white portraits, and glimpses of everyday Israeli life.


“He especially loved photographing movement,” recalls Sigal. These images, carefully chosen by her, are not displayed as relics but as living fragments of a gaze. Facing them, Sigal presents her own works: installations and three-dimensional objects that converse with her father’s vision.


Eshet-Shafat uses diverse techniques and formats, translating them into a personal artistic language that opens a dialogue with her Israeli identity.

Israeli Flag
Israeli Flag
“The idea for the exhibition came over a year ago,” she tells Itonnews. “The curator suggested I do something with flags, and then thought to include some of my father’s work. At first, I refused — I didn’t want to mix my art with my parents’. I feared it would create confusion. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that was precisely the essence of my work. Shortly after, my father passed away, and it suddenly became clear that this exhibition had to include their works as well.”

Rich in symbolism, intimacy, and revelation, White Flag — combining pieces created between 1967 and today — mirrors both the artist’s autobiographical journey and that of a wounded Israeli society seeking to heal its collective scars and envision a future for the generations to come.


Israeli Flags, Reimagined


For Sigal, the Israeli flag is sacred. She has gathered hundreds of discarded flags — from streets, trash bins, and forgotten corners — bringing them home to mend and care for them. It is, she says, her way of healing both her family’s past and that of her country.

“According to the Flag Law, enacted in 1949, it is forbidden to throw away, burn, or tear the national flag. Desecrating the flag or the state’s symbols is considered a criminal offense. Saving these flags — steeped in sadness and pain — becomes an act of deconstruction and reinterpretation,” she explains.

Here, the flag reigns supreme. It appears in countless transformations: attached to an IV needle, covered with a COVID-19 mask, plastered over, or infused with the colors of the Palestinian flag — a call for coexistence.


Israeli Flags, Reimagined
Israeli Flags, Reimagined
“The plaster is a way of covering the whole country to heal the corruption and open wounds of our society. We need to put plaster over all of this — everything that’s happening here,” she says, underlining the universal and restorative nature of her artistic gesture.

In october 2023 series titled “Existential Wounds”, Sigal describes creation as a process of symbolic healing — cutting, stitching, and reassembling canvas and fabric into “open wounds” that can never fully close.

“Each piece is a wound that remains open,” she explains, “but it’s also a way of processing trauma and transforming it into art.”

The wounds appear as torn fabrics, then sewn back together — their scars deliberately visible.


Flag with mop
Flag with mop

Resonances Across Generations


On one wall devoted to her personal story, Sigal juxtaposes photographs taken by her parents with her own reinterpretations of those same images. Childhood portraits appear beside their modern counterparts, forming a two-voiced dialogue between past and present. Motifs like fleur-de-lys, crowns of flowers, and portraits reemerge in her mixed-media collages, reconstructed with tactile layers of fabric and paper.

“It all began with grief,” she admits. “When my father died, I felt an immense void. As I went through his archives, I understood that my role as an artist was to give those images new life — not out of nostalgia, but by observing what they awakened in me.”

This intimate archaeology becomes a meditation on artistic inheritance and transmission, while also questioning collective identity through Israel’s visual memory. Her father’s documentary photography recalls a time when Israel’s image was still being defined.


In another, more introspective section, Sigal presents a series of portraits of her mother taken by her father, alongside some of Dalia’s original paintings. She envisioned the exhibition as a sensory, meditative experience, free of chronology or hierarchy. Visitors wander through the rooms as if through an open home, each space evoking a different memory.

“I wanted to recreate an atmosphere of in-betweenness — neither museum nor home — a mental space where past and present blur together,” she says.
Dove of Peace
Dove of Peace

One particularly striking pairing features her mother’s colorful early-2000s painting “The Dove of Peace” alongside Sigal’s own piece, “Sewn Dove”, crafted from white fabric and fragments of Israeli flags, concentrated around the heart — a literal and symbolic focal point. Nearby, she has placed one of her father’s 1960s photographs taken at the Tel Aviv Zoo, depicting models inside animal enclosures — an image as surreal as it is haunting.


Sigal also presents works documenting her family home; her mother, at eighty years old, once painted the house itself — a piece that now serves as a central pillar of the exhibition.


Through White Flag, Sigal Eshet-Shafat demonstrates the cathartic power of creation, transforming memory, loss, and collective trauma into tangible works that reflect her deep, contemporary artistic commitment.


The exhibition runs until November 26 at 7 Hashomer Street, Givataim.


Caroline Haïat



 
 
 

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