I am just back from a trip to Israel and Tel Aviv has been a revelation. If it wasn’t for the various meetings keeping me busy in London I would be on the next flight to Ben Gurion, boycotting Tesco Finest’s hummus ersatz and rushing my way instead to Hakosem, my new favourite spot, before heading to Beach Mezizim for a drink. I realise that Tel Aviv is not the most PC destination for the opening of Turnleft’s Summer series and that it will raise a few eyebrows given the situation in East Jerusalem, Gaza and the West Bank. Yet the city was poised for a centenary celebration in 2009 and a happy birthday from Turnleft was long overdue – read this as an apolitical, light-hearted statement.
The first day of my trip was exciting and unpleasant in equal measures. Thankfully the unpleasant bits were limited to El Al’s intimidating check-in and boarding procedures, and largely balanced by the chiselled features of the olive-skinned guys inspecting my Converse and Diana camera for explosives and a detonator. To El Al’s credit I was always reminded with great politeness that all those routine measures – while strict and unusual by European standards – were designed for my own security and that El Al is the safest airline in the world; so even though I am usually petrified to fly, those deep-voiced caring words were comforting because I was totally relaxed by take-off. Arrival at Ben Gurion was swift – somehow the grand patriotic hall leading to baggage claim reminded me of USSR-era buildings – and after sharing a few jokes with the lady at immigration about my parents’ eclectic choice of names (we left it at “that was the 70s!”) my passport was duly stamped and I am now barred from most countries on the Axis of Evil (my mistake – you can ask for a separate visa sheet – and a good incentive to apply for a second passport).
A daytime direct flight was a smart choice compared to the various airlines that land at 1 or 2am (or that depart at 7am on the way back, especially considering the lengthy boarding procedures): an evening arrival meant that I could be greeted by my friend just in time for an Israeli Chardonnay on Nehalat Binyamin. It was difficult not to feel at home immediately at Hotel Cinema, which ticked all my boxes: a former cinema of Bauhaus inspiration, a balcony overlooking Dizengoff Square and the Kabbalah Centre (sadly no celebrity appearance), a roof terrace with a Jacuzzi, avocado for breakfast, free bicycles for guests and Falafel Sabich just round the corner.
The highlight of my trip – and its primary purpose – was a survey of the city’s stunning Bauhaus architecture, the official opening of Design Museum Holon and the preview of The State of Things, the museum’s first group show curated by the incredible Barbara Bloemink. I admit that flying to Tel Aviv for a few white buildings and a vernissage sounds vain and polluting – especially considering Turnleft’s impeccable eco-cred – but it’s not everyday that one gets invited to the launch of a Ron Arad architectural landmark. And it’s not everyday either that Shimon Peres shows up for an impromptu inaugural speech.
Name-dropping doesn’t do much justice to the singularities of Design Museum Holon. Ron Arad’s foray into architecture is intermittent and despite a training in architecture, the Israeli-born architect-slash-designer-slash-artist has always been reluctant about labels. In that respect DMH marks a return of the prodigal genius to his native country and to architecture – after another landmark building in Liège – with a construction that borrows the curves and the use materials so typical of his famous product designs. The opening exhibition itself couldn’t be more appropriate for a new museum – a survey of 21st century design and its broad range of ideas, processes, materials and issues. 18 countries are represented (randomly), there is no common thread – a reflection on today’s lack of identifiable pattern in design trends – and the exhibition curates a vast array of work covering 8 broad themes including (my favourites) New Essentialism, Super Beauty, Mutant Remix and Social Anxiety. Designer names are familiar – Konstantin Grcic, Maarten Bas, POLKA, etc – but design choices hold many surprises for classically-inspired aesthetes, from a polar bear rug (Social Anxiety), to a fire extinguisher (New Essentialism), sink drainer (Super Beauty) or love objects (Of the Beauty). Similar retrospectives on fashion, architecture and graphic design are in the pipeline.
The star of Design Museum Holon turns out to be the city of Holon itself. At the risk of offending my hosts, Holon is arguably the least probable venue for a world-class contemporary art institution: after all it is on the outskirts of a city lost in the Middle East and hardly a favourite weekend break destination for Beirut and Damascus culture vultures. The location of the Design Museum is even remote by Holon’s remote standards, a brownfield opposite a shopping mall. Yet such a daring endeavour is the whole point – Tel Aviv is a hotbed of design innovation and the museum seeks to redefine the role played by creative institutions in urban development. Turnleft has always been very cynical about the Zaha Hadidisation de rigueur in Europe’s gamma-cities but Tel Aviv doesn’t feel like a gamma city, Ron Arad is after all a local architect and the exhibition’s team of curators is spot on, achieving a groundbreaking design exhibition and putting Holon on the art trail, reflecting the city’s ambition to sustain an economy of design. I listened to Mayor Motti Sasson (and to Hana Hertsman) with admiration and suddenly wished that Paris or London elects had the guts to drive urban renewal with new art institutions beyond the périphérique or the Northern Circular (and not just vanity arches or Olympic swimming pools).
To say that Tel Aviv is a relaxed city is an understatement. Considering all my preconceptions, even security seemed lax by London or neurotic Paris standards, where public bins haven’t been seen since 1986: I have probably seen less machine guns in a week in Tel Aviv than in 5 minutes at Paris Gare du Nord (a little white lie – the bus terminal on my way to Jerusalem was packed with military conscripts). And the city is certainly very liberal and full of quirkiness. A gay beach next to an Ultra Orthodox beach? An obsession with pedigree dogs, tattoos and frozen yoghurts, comme si de rien n’était? I was expecting to understand the Middle East but I come back more confused than when I left. In any case this is everything except a political discussion, more like a naive perspective on a newly discovered city, and to me Design Museum Holon (and The State of Things) sums up Tel Aviv really well: it comes with baggage but it is forward-looking; isolated but with its finger on the pulse; it is both indecipherable and familiar!
That’s it for now, this was just a teaser – if you liked this preview check our new website regularly: we will soon add three urban guides dedicated to Tel Aviv – an architecture walk on the Bauhaus legacy; a guide to art spaces; and a street food circuit sharing our preferred hummus and fruit juice spots.
As I said this new website heralds a new start but print is not dead. We’re currently looking at the release schedule for this summer and maybe these notes could benefit from last year’s poster zine format – or even an iPad app – with interviews, bonus contributions by local artists and bloggers, and expanded editorial features on Design Museum Holon, the insane craze for luxury condos, Sheinkin and Gan Hahashmal’s new art studios, a swimwear calendar, street art in Neve Tzedek, Eurovision mayhem at Evita and clubbing at Minus One.
The State of Things 4 March – 15 May 2010
Cinema Hotel 1 Zamenhof
Design Museum Holon 8 Pinchas Eylon (Holon, bus #3) www.dmh.org.il
Falafel Sabich corner Dizengoff & Frishman
Hakosem 1 Shlomo Hamelech
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