The beginnings of Elkana Levy’s realistic and figurative oil paintings lie in a sketchbook he carried with him throughout countless rounds of reserve duty: from the start of the fighting, when he was rushed to the northern border as a commander of self-propelled artillery in the artillery corps. During breaks between fighting, he developed them into large-scale oil paintings in his Jerusalem studio, several of which are now displayed as part of the “My Life at the Moment” group exhibition at Beit Avi Chai.
The slow work in oil provided Levy with a mental respite from the constant tension and pressing time on the battlefield. Levi paints himself as one who remains a soldier even when he returns to his home and workspace. In the painting “Noah’s Ark,” he is still wearing the uniform as his young daughter sits in his lap; he holds a toy in one hand and a brush in the other, and it seems his thoughts are still preoccupied with battle scenes. In another portrait, which appears to pay homage to Renaissance self-portraits, the uniform replaces the painter’s robe, and the weapon hanging on the wall stands out against the absence of the brush. Even still-life is recruited for the processing: folded uniforms in a bag appear as a substitute for a bowl of fruit or a bouquet of flowers.
The evolution of soldier portraiture
Portraits of soldiers have undergone many transformations in the history of Israeli art: from admiration-inducing idealization in the early days of the state, through protest and the dismantling of the ethos in the seventies and eighties, to postmodern kitsch treatments in the 2000s. Levi’s portraits succeed in capturing the delicate tension between the figures of the hero and the anti-hero that exist side by side within them.
When the war burst into your studio, were you in the middle of working on something else?
“I’m a religious person, and in my art I usually search for God. One of my ways to search is art. I would like to believe in God, it requires work, so I go to the study hall and I also paint. My paintings are usually more abstract and spiritual. And when the war broke out, I had to process all the things I experienced. The war severely affected me. I was on reserve duty for a very long time, I had terribly difficult experiences and I felt a need to process them in one way or another. Therefore, when I came to the studio between rounds, I couldn’t continue with my spiritual search, there was no place for it. I needed to process and therefore my art started to reflect my life as a reserve soldier, and my painting became more figurative and realistic.”
Did you make art during reserve duty?
“Yes, during reserve duty I photographed, and kept a war diary, and even in the last round I painted in oil. During reserve duty I was an artist, and when I returned to the studio, I was a reservist. I created some kind of oscillation for myself, because the transitions are terribly difficult. I have a one-year-old daughter, and the transition between being on alert to shoot to raising a young child is difficult and confusing, no matter how much you slept. I think that this place I created for myself – where when I’m in the studio I'm a soldier and when I'm a soldier I'm an artist – allowed me a smoother transition between the different parts of my life, between civilian life and reserve duty.”
In general, is your response to major events silence or increased creativity?
“Increased creativity. I used to be an EMT at United Hatzalah, so I am already familiar with my tendency to transition to realistic creation in such situations. While I was an EMT I would draw all the horrors I saw. I drew dead people, and things that were etched in my mind forever. When I encounter something extreme I immediately turn to draw it, I have to get it out in one way or another.”
Do you think art is better when it’s created after a while – after gaining some perspective on the events that occurred – or when it’s created in real time? There are criticisms raised about post-war art, claiming one should wait a while and process, so that things have artistic value. What’s your opinion on this?
“I’m part of the experience, and I was scarred. So I have the side that says ‘I’m not asking anyone.’ I need it for myself. Art is my way of dealing with this reality and therefore I’m not part of the discourse of art criticism. Right now I’m processing the difficult experiences I had in reserve duty, and I’m doing it first and foremost for myself. The question is what to do with it afterwards. Whether it should be shown and when, whether to expose what was created now or delay the reveal. Those are questions that should be directed at whoever seeks to see or exhibit. I personally am willing to show things already in real time, I’m telling my story here and now.”
What in your view is the role of art? For whom and for what are you doing this?
“I feel I’m like an emissary who documents and enriches our story. That being an artist is a national role of giving voice to the reality of life here, enriching life with a future perspective on what was happening here. The artist deepens the story of the society he lives in. I feel a mission toward this place, to deepen our culture, to enrich it, with a future perspective on our present and past, so there will be something to look at, something to learn from.”
Do you think that we are facing a depressing era in museums and galleries? Are we facing a decade of sad and dark post-war art?
“After World War II, Mark Rothko burst forth with his abstract paintings, which presented something else that wasn’t a depressive processing of the war years. I think that after war we look for something else, we're sick of wars. Maybe now there will also be a movement of searching for something else, and that will be the thing people will want to see, that’s what will appear in museums – that is if museums are attentive to the public’s desires. The war content can be saved for memorial days, but I hope there will actually be a movement of renewed searching, that’s what I plan to do, at least. I have many paintings I created around the war and reserve duty, and I want to organize a solo exhibition using them. But I ask myself whether anyone will want to see such an exhibition? Maybe several years will pass until people want to see material connected to the war, maybe now they want something else.”
Visit the exhibition “My Life at the Moment”>>
Main Photo: Still Life in Respite\ Elkana Levi - 50x70 cm. Oil on canvas