Mike Marcus - A personal Intifada
Posted by: isiria, in ARTS, culture, people, struggle for changeI just came across a blog by Mike Marcus called “A PERSONAL INTIFADA“. Mike is a 34 year old artist and photographer, born in London and now living between the UK and Tel Aviv, Israel. For 12 years he worked as a commercial artist for clients such as Coca Cola, L’Oreal and Orange. More recently has been involved in political art on the streets of Tel Aviv resulting in both TimeOut Magazine and Economist.com labelling him as Israel’s answer to Banksy (not sure how much of a compliment that is though 
). I’m always a bit skeptical about people making lots of money from making political statements - making political expression a commodity somehow defeats its purpose.
Right now though I can judge Mike’s work only by his blog and based on it I like critical deliberations on Israel as well as most of his work (including the digitally manipulated self-portrait series called “Exogeny” - a reflection of the artist’s own experiences growing up in a segregated and xenophobic religious community and, more recently, as a witness to racial tensions between Israeli citizens and Palestinians in the Occupied Territories). Below a a couple of examples that seem to describe well his philosophy and political activism (he’s also got quite a disturbing article on the use of teargas or CS or by Israel).
Dead animals #1
When we see an animal carcass lying by the side of the street we cross the road to avoid it. We hold our breath. By refusing to inhale the air that might have been close to the rotting flesh, we symbolically avoid bringing the cold fact of death into our warm comfortable world. We know intuitively that the animal was probably hit by a car or ripped apart by one of our pets. An innocent victim of our ceaseless march to modify the natural world around us.
The collateral damage from human progress is something that we would prefer to ignore. Dead animals make us feel uncomfortable so we shut our eyes and move on.
We also refuse to consider the origins of our food. When we eat a burger we don’t think of a dead cow. Hanging upside down, throat slit and eyes showing the fear that accompanied its last few breaths. We even call it by a different name. Its beef not cow - not animal but meat.
No images of feathers matted together with drying blood cross our minds as we pop a chicken nugget into our hungry mouths. We all ignore the source of our comfort. We have to. Otherwise we couldn’t live with the guilt.
Similarly we learn not to question the origin of our national security. 3.6 Million oppressed Palestinians, nearly a million dead in Iraq. As long as we are safe and well fed, we let the butchers and the soldiers do whatever they need to do. As long as they hide the dirty truth and just deliver the goods, we live our lives and don’t complain.
Beautiful Children
Last month was the Jewish new year. Rosh Hashana as it is known in Hebrew lasts for two days and is followed 10 days later by the most holy day in the Jewish calendar - Yom Kippur, known in English as the day of atonement. You might say that as a people we have a lot to atone for but Tel Aviv being an almost entirely secular city uses the day to have fun.
Traditionally there are no cars on the road and all businesses including pubs and shops are shut. Kids and adults alike take to the streets on their bikes, roller blades or just by foot and use the opportunity to explore their environment in a way thats only possible once a year. The whole city is completely quiet other than the sound of the occasional conversation and birds nervously calling to each other. Its like a perfect combination of buy nothing day, reclaim the streets and critical mass and most importantly, everyone joins in. The only day of the year when you can breathe clean air and sunbathe on the main freeway running through Tel Aviv.
Last Yom Kipur, I used the opportunity to gather some like minded friends and embark on a street art marathon. Over the course of 25 hours we sprayed, pasted and painted around Tel Aviv. I acted as a human stencil so that an outline of my body could be painted on the highway, a lookout as a friend created a huge mural in Yehuda Halevy street and an instructor for a gang of girls on bicycles who wanted to learn how spray on walls. Most importantly I sprayed the message “create beautiful children, marry and Arab” on walls all over the city.
This year I was due to fly to England a day before Yom Kipur. I was eager to start my new job and although missing the best day of the year was a huge sacrifice, I considered it worth the price. In hindsight, seeing as the contract was postponed and finally cancelled I should have flown a few days later but at the time I wasn’t to know the way things would transpire.
My answer to missing Yom Kipur was to squeeze in as much street art as I could in my final week. During the days I was packing and running errands and at nights I was prowling the city with spraycans, posters and buckets of paste. On the last night before I was due to leave, I translated “create beautiful children, marry an Arab” into Hebrew and used what was left of my paint applying it to walls all around the city.
There seemed to me to be a poetry in spanning the Jewish year with this message. Beginning in English, ending in Hebrew. A symbol of my own transformation as an activist. Beginning with the desire to communicate a personal message in my mother tongue and ending with the need to challenge deeply held public beliefs. Over the course of a year, I have taken upon myself a responsibility to question the racism ingrained into my culture and my ultimate use of Hebrew, the language of the Jews reflects this intent.
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