In a room where books breathe and plates do not shatter, multi-disciplinary artist Maayan Sophia Weisstub takes us on a contemplative journey, exploring the fragility of our existence and the inevitability of death. Her works bridge the gap between the inanimate and the living, the material and the spiritual.
Weisstub, born in Jerusalem and currently based in London where she recently completed her studies at the Royal College of Art, now exhibits her first UK solo show, Mnēme, at Omer Tiroche Gallery. Weisstub’s works sit at the core of what it is to be human, navigating through internal feelings of loss and grief. These tenderly moving works invite the viewer to reflect on fundamental questions regarding life, death, memory and eternity, all through the careful use and alteration of banal, everyday objects.
The central installation piece and focal point of the gallery is a familiar sight from afar; an ordinary-looking fifties-style, wooden, study desk with a chair pulled up beside it. An open book lays flat on the surface of the desk, alongside a half-filled glass of milk. It is the sort of sight you might predict to see while peering into a neighbour’s sitting room, half-expecting to see a glimpse of a hand turning a page of the book. Yet any feelings of anticipation here are quickly erased at closer inspection. A pre-existing kind of presence can be felt in the objects themselves as they steadily pulsate, mimicking the movement of breath. The lived experience and memories associated with these inanimate objects are immortalised. The result is bittersweet; eerie yet reassuring all at once. A gasp of surprise and a sigh of warming relief.
Read our interview with Weisstub as she provides insight into her own perspectives regarding death and grief, her practice and inspiration for the show…
What inspired this series of works?
My father passed away six years ago, after a long and meaningful struggle with cancer. I am still processing the loss. Working with and around objects that contain feelings attached to him is part of that journey. Art is my way to deepen my understanding, express and work through my thoughts and feelings.
What led you to shift your practice from 2D collage to 3D physical installations and moving image? Is this a direction you want to move towards more?
In the past, I have made political street art installations and short videos. These mediums intrigued me for a long time. Studying in the RCA encouraged me to delve into those processes and production. I would certainly like to continue and develop in this direction in the future.
Your previous work is often humorous and satirical, whereas Mnēmē feels deeply personal and beautifully sentimental. Did this series feel very different to make from your perspective compared to your earlier work?
Yes, A lot of my work has a satirical, funny aspect to it, yet if you look at the body of my creations you can also track the beginning and birth of this theme. It does not feel foreign, quite the opposite, it is profoundly connected to my inner experience.
Your work in Mnēmē touches on the fragility of life. How does the choice of objects and their physical properties relate to this theme?
The choice of the objects was very personal, yet I wanted to make sure that the final scene would be banal, so inviting personal projections from everyone exposed to it. The furnitures are similar to the one my father had growing up. They were part of my home, my childhood environment. The desk, the chair, the objects on the table can be anyone’s study corner, dining table etc.
I am interested in the duality in your installation piece — why is the distinction between femininity versus masculinity important to you? For example, in the glass of milk in contrast with the book.
That contrast exaggerates the dichotomy between the masculine and feminine on a symbolic level (relying on mainly Jungian perspective). I believe in the integration of both elements in real life, and of broadening the perspective given that all the elements are part of us.
As much as your work is based on nostalgia and memory, there is also an element of surrealism and otherworldliness in it. For example, in Untitled, the overturned glass of milk defies gravity while the breathing objects feel somewhat fantastical. It reminds me of the spiritual aspect of death — would you agree?
I agree. I believe in the continuation of life beyond the physical. I am not certain how, but I am convinced that something pursues somehow, in some kind of existence.
The book Papers from the Eranos Yearbooks edited by Joseph Campbell is part of your central installation piece and tackles philosophical questions surrounding time and death. I can see this thinking come through in your pieces — how much other influence has come from your personal philosophies, beliefs or experiences surrounding death?
The foundation as mentioned is very personal, it stems from my own experience, the grieving process, my thoughts, reflections, dreams, talks with others, readings, watching movies and more.
What would you like the viewer to take away from your show?
It would mean a lot to me if the viewer would be emotionally touched, that something would stir inside and trigger thoughts about their own life, their own fragility and their connection to objects.
You can visit the exhibition from now until 17th September for free. For more information and opening times please visit the Omer Tiroche Gallery website.
In a room where books breathe and plates do not shatter, multi-disciplinary artist Maayan Sophia Weisstub takes us on a contemplative journey, exploring the fragility of our existence and the inevitability of death. Her works bridge the gap between the inanimate and the living, the material and the spiritual.
Weisstub, born in Jerusalem and currently based in London where she recently completed her studies at the Royal College of Art, now exhibits her first UK solo show, Mnēme, at Omer Tiroche Gallery. Weisstub’s works sit at the core of what it is to be human, navigating through internal feelings of loss and grief. These tenderly moving works invite the viewer to reflect on fundamental questions regarding life, death, memory and eternity, all through the careful use and alteration of banal, everyday objects.
The central installation piece and focal point of the gallery is a familiar sight from afar; an ordinary-looking fifties-style, wooden, study desk with a chair pulled up beside it. An open book lays flat on the surface of the desk, alongside a half-filled glass of milk. It is the sort of sight you might predict to see while peering into a neighbour’s sitting room, half-expecting to see a glimpse of a hand turning a page of the book. Yet any feelings of anticipation here are quickly erased at closer inspection. A pre-existing kind of presence can be felt in the objects themselves as they steadily pulsate, mimicking the movement of breath. The lived experience and memories associated with these inanimate objects are immortalised. The result is bittersweet; eerie yet reassuring all at once. A gasp of surprise and a sigh of warming relief.
Read our interview with Weisstub as she provides insight into her own perspectives regarding death and grief, her practice and inspiration for the show…
What inspired this series of works?
My father passed away six years ago, after a long and meaningful struggle with cancer. I am still processing the loss. Working with and around objects that contain feelings attached to him is part of that journey. Art is my way to deepen my understanding, express and work through my thoughts and feelings.
What led you to shift your practice from 2D collage to 3D physical installations and moving image? Is this a direction you want to move towards more?
In the past, I have made political street art installations and short videos. These mediums intrigued me for a long time. Studying in the RCA encouraged me to delve into those processes and production. I would certainly like to continue and develop in this direction in the future.
Your previous work is often humorous and satirical, whereas Mnēmē feels deeply personal and beautifully sentimental. Did this series feel very different to make from your perspective compared to your earlier work?
Yes, A lot of my work has a satirical, funny aspect to it, yet if you look at the body of my creations you can also track the beginning and birth of this theme. It does not feel foreign, quite the opposite, it is profoundly connected to my inner experience.
Your work in Mnēmē touches on the fragility of life. How does the choice of objects and their physical properties relate to this theme?
The choice of the objects was very personal, yet I wanted to make sure that the final scene would be banal, so inviting personal projections from everyone exposed to it. The furnitures are similar to the one my father had growing up. They were part of my home, my childhood environment. The desk, the chair, the objects on the table can be anyone’s study corner, dining table etc.
I am interested in the duality in your installation piece — why is the distinction between femininity versus masculinity important to you? For example, in the glass of milk in contrast with the book.
That contrast exaggerates the dichotomy between the masculine and feminine on a symbolic level (relying on mainly Jungian perspective). I believe in the integration of both elements in real life, and of broadening the perspective given that all the elements are part of us.
As much as your work is based on nostalgia and memory, there is also an element of surrealism and otherworldliness in it. For example, in Untitled, the overturned glass of milk defies gravity while the breathing objects feel somewhat fantastical. It reminds me of the spiritual aspect of death — would you agree?
I agree. I believe in the continuation of life beyond the physical. I am not certain how, but I am convinced that something pursues somehow, in some kind of existence.
The book Papers from the Eranos Yearbooks edited by Joseph Campbell is part of your central installation piece and tackles philosophical questions surrounding time and death. I can see this thinking come through in your pieces — how much other influence has come from your personal philosophies, beliefs or experiences surrounding death?
The foundation as mentioned is very personal, it stems from my own experience, the grieving process, my thoughts, reflections, dreams, talks with others, readings, watching movies and more.
What would you like the viewer to take away from your show?
It would mean a lot to me if the viewer would be emotionally touched, that something would stir inside and trigger thoughts about their own life, their own fragility and their connection to objects.
You can visit the exhibition from now until 17th September for free. For more information and opening times please visit the Omer Tiroche Gallery website.
In a room where books breathe and plates do not shatter, multi-disciplinary artist Maayan Sophia Weisstub takes us on a contemplative journey, exploring the fragility of our existence and the inevitability of death. Her works bridge the gap between the inanimate and the living, the material and the spiritual.
Weisstub, born in Jerusalem and currently based in London where she recently completed her studies at the Royal College of Art, now exhibits her first UK solo show, Mnēme, at Omer Tiroche Gallery. Weisstub’s works sit at the core of what it is to be human, navigating through internal feelings of loss and grief. These tenderly moving works invite the viewer to reflect on fundamental questions regarding life, death, memory and eternity, all through the careful use and alteration of banal, everyday objects.
The central installation piece and focal point of the gallery is a familiar sight from afar; an ordinary-looking fifties-style, wooden, study desk with a chair pulled up beside it. An open book lays flat on the surface of the desk, alongside a half-filled glass of milk. It is the sort of sight you might predict to see while peering into a neighbour’s sitting room, half-expecting to see a glimpse of a hand turning a page of the book. Yet any feelings of anticipation here are quickly erased at closer inspection. A pre-existing kind of presence can be felt in the objects themselves as they steadily pulsate, mimicking the movement of breath. The lived experience and memories associated with these inanimate objects are immortalised. The result is bittersweet; eerie yet reassuring all at once. A gasp of surprise and a sigh of warming relief.
Read our interview with Weisstub as she provides insight into her own perspectives regarding death and grief, her practice and inspiration for the show…
What inspired this series of works?
My father passed away six years ago, after a long and meaningful struggle with cancer. I am still processing the loss. Working with and around objects that contain feelings attached to him is part of that journey. Art is my way to deepen my understanding, express and work through my thoughts and feelings.
What led you to shift your practice from 2D collage to 3D physical installations and moving image? Is this a direction you want to move towards more?
In the past, I have made political street art installations and short videos. These mediums intrigued me for a long time. Studying in the RCA encouraged me to delve into those processes and production. I would certainly like to continue and develop in this direction in the future.
Your previous work is often humorous and satirical, whereas Mnēmē feels deeply personal and beautifully sentimental. Did this series feel very different to make from your perspective compared to your earlier work?
Yes, A lot of my work has a satirical, funny aspect to it, yet if you look at the body of my creations you can also track the beginning and birth of this theme. It does not feel foreign, quite the opposite, it is profoundly connected to my inner experience.
Your work in Mnēmē touches on the fragility of life. How does the choice of objects and their physical properties relate to this theme?
The choice of the objects was very personal, yet I wanted to make sure that the final scene would be banal, so inviting personal projections from everyone exposed to it. The furnitures are similar to the one my father had growing up. They were part of my home, my childhood environment. The desk, the chair, the objects on the table can be anyone’s study corner, dining table etc.
I am interested in the duality in your installation piece — why is the distinction between femininity versus masculinity important to you? For example, in the glass of milk in contrast with the book.
That contrast exaggerates the dichotomy between the masculine and feminine on a symbolic level (relying on mainly Jungian perspective). I believe in the integration of both elements in real life, and of broadening the perspective given that all the elements are part of us.
As much as your work is based on nostalgia and memory, there is also an element of surrealism and otherworldliness in it. For example, in Untitled, the overturned glass of milk defies gravity while the breathing objects feel somewhat fantastical. It reminds me of the spiritual aspect of death — would you agree?
I agree. I believe in the continuation of life beyond the physical. I am not certain how, but I am convinced that something pursues somehow, in some kind of existence.
The book Papers from the Eranos Yearbooks edited by Joseph Campbell is part of your central installation piece and tackles philosophical questions surrounding time and death. I can see this thinking come through in your pieces — how much other influence has come from your personal philosophies, beliefs or experiences surrounding death?
The foundation as mentioned is very personal, it stems from my own experience, the grieving process, my thoughts, reflections, dreams, talks with others, readings, watching movies and more.
What would you like the viewer to take away from your show?
It would mean a lot to me if the viewer would be emotionally touched, that something would stir inside and trigger thoughts about their own life, their own fragility and their connection to objects.
You can visit the exhibition from now until 17th September for free. For more information and opening times please visit the Omer Tiroche Gallery website.
In a room where books breathe and plates do not shatter, multi-disciplinary artist Maayan Sophia Weisstub takes us on a contemplative journey, exploring the fragility of our existence and the inevitability of death. Her works bridge the gap between the inanimate and the living, the material and the spiritual.
Weisstub, born in Jerusalem and currently based in London where she recently completed her studies at the Royal College of Art, now exhibits her first UK solo show, Mnēme, at Omer Tiroche Gallery. Weisstub’s works sit at the core of what it is to be human, navigating through internal feelings of loss and grief. These tenderly moving works invite the viewer to reflect on fundamental questions regarding life, death, memory and eternity, all through the careful use and alteration of banal, everyday objects.
The central installation piece and focal point of the gallery is a familiar sight from afar; an ordinary-looking fifties-style, wooden, study desk with a chair pulled up beside it. An open book lays flat on the surface of the desk, alongside a half-filled glass of milk. It is the sort of sight you might predict to see while peering into a neighbour’s sitting room, half-expecting to see a glimpse of a hand turning a page of the book. Yet any feelings of anticipation here are quickly erased at closer inspection. A pre-existing kind of presence can be felt in the objects themselves as they steadily pulsate, mimicking the movement of breath. The lived experience and memories associated with these inanimate objects are immortalised. The result is bittersweet; eerie yet reassuring all at once. A gasp of surprise and a sigh of warming relief.
Read our interview with Weisstub as she provides insight into her own perspectives regarding death and grief, her practice and inspiration for the show…
What inspired this series of works?
My father passed away six years ago, after a long and meaningful struggle with cancer. I am still processing the loss. Working with and around objects that contain feelings attached to him is part of that journey. Art is my way to deepen my understanding, express and work through my thoughts and feelings.
What led you to shift your practice from 2D collage to 3D physical installations and moving image? Is this a direction you want to move towards more?
In the past, I have made political street art installations and short videos. These mediums intrigued me for a long time. Studying in the RCA encouraged me to delve into those processes and production. I would certainly like to continue and develop in this direction in the future.
Your previous work is often humorous and satirical, whereas Mnēmē feels deeply personal and beautifully sentimental. Did this series feel very different to make from your perspective compared to your earlier work?
Yes, A lot of my work has a satirical, funny aspect to it, yet if you look at the body of my creations you can also track the beginning and birth of this theme. It does not feel foreign, quite the opposite, it is profoundly connected to my inner experience.
Your work in Mnēmē touches on the fragility of life. How does the choice of objects and their physical properties relate to this theme?
The choice of the objects was very personal, yet I wanted to make sure that the final scene would be banal, so inviting personal projections from everyone exposed to it. The furnitures are similar to the one my father had growing up. They were part of my home, my childhood environment. The desk, the chair, the objects on the table can be anyone’s study corner, dining table etc.
I am interested in the duality in your installation piece — why is the distinction between femininity versus masculinity important to you? For example, in the glass of milk in contrast with the book.
That contrast exaggerates the dichotomy between the masculine and feminine on a symbolic level (relying on mainly Jungian perspective). I believe in the integration of both elements in real life, and of broadening the perspective given that all the elements are part of us.
As much as your work is based on nostalgia and memory, there is also an element of surrealism and otherworldliness in it. For example, in Untitled, the overturned glass of milk defies gravity while the breathing objects feel somewhat fantastical. It reminds me of the spiritual aspect of death — would you agree?
I agree. I believe in the continuation of life beyond the physical. I am not certain how, but I am convinced that something pursues somehow, in some kind of existence.
The book Papers from the Eranos Yearbooks edited by Joseph Campbell is part of your central installation piece and tackles philosophical questions surrounding time and death. I can see this thinking come through in your pieces — how much other influence has come from your personal philosophies, beliefs or experiences surrounding death?
The foundation as mentioned is very personal, it stems from my own experience, the grieving process, my thoughts, reflections, dreams, talks with others, readings, watching movies and more.
What would you like the viewer to take away from your show?
It would mean a lot to me if the viewer would be emotionally touched, that something would stir inside and trigger thoughts about their own life, their own fragility and their connection to objects.
You can visit the exhibition from now until 17th September for free. For more information and opening times please visit the Omer Tiroche Gallery website.
In a room where books breathe and plates do not shatter, multi-disciplinary artist Maayan Sophia Weisstub takes us on a contemplative journey, exploring the fragility of our existence and the inevitability of death. Her works bridge the gap between the inanimate and the living, the material and the spiritual.
Weisstub, born in Jerusalem and currently based in London where she recently completed her studies at the Royal College of Art, now exhibits her first UK solo show, Mnēme, at Omer Tiroche Gallery. Weisstub’s works sit at the core of what it is to be human, navigating through internal feelings of loss and grief. These tenderly moving works invite the viewer to reflect on fundamental questions regarding life, death, memory and eternity, all through the careful use and alteration of banal, everyday objects.
The central installation piece and focal point of the gallery is a familiar sight from afar; an ordinary-looking fifties-style, wooden, study desk with a chair pulled up beside it. An open book lays flat on the surface of the desk, alongside a half-filled glass of milk. It is the sort of sight you might predict to see while peering into a neighbour’s sitting room, half-expecting to see a glimpse of a hand turning a page of the book. Yet any feelings of anticipation here are quickly erased at closer inspection. A pre-existing kind of presence can be felt in the objects themselves as they steadily pulsate, mimicking the movement of breath. The lived experience and memories associated with these inanimate objects are immortalised. The result is bittersweet; eerie yet reassuring all at once. A gasp of surprise and a sigh of warming relief.
Read our interview with Weisstub as she provides insight into her own perspectives regarding death and grief, her practice and inspiration for the show…
What inspired this series of works?
My father passed away six years ago, after a long and meaningful struggle with cancer. I am still processing the loss. Working with and around objects that contain feelings attached to him is part of that journey. Art is my way to deepen my understanding, express and work through my thoughts and feelings.
What led you to shift your practice from 2D collage to 3D physical installations and moving image? Is this a direction you want to move towards more?
In the past, I have made political street art installations and short videos. These mediums intrigued me for a long time. Studying in the RCA encouraged me to delve into those processes and production. I would certainly like to continue and develop in this direction in the future.
Your previous work is often humorous and satirical, whereas Mnēmē feels deeply personal and beautifully sentimental. Did this series feel very different to make from your perspective compared to your earlier work?
Yes, A lot of my work has a satirical, funny aspect to it, yet if you look at the body of my creations you can also track the beginning and birth of this theme. It does not feel foreign, quite the opposite, it is profoundly connected to my inner experience.
Your work in Mnēmē touches on the fragility of life. How does the choice of objects and their physical properties relate to this theme?
The choice of the objects was very personal, yet I wanted to make sure that the final scene would be banal, so inviting personal projections from everyone exposed to it. The furnitures are similar to the one my father had growing up. They were part of my home, my childhood environment. The desk, the chair, the objects on the table can be anyone’s study corner, dining table etc.
I am interested in the duality in your installation piece — why is the distinction between femininity versus masculinity important to you? For example, in the glass of milk in contrast with the book.
That contrast exaggerates the dichotomy between the masculine and feminine on a symbolic level (relying on mainly Jungian perspective). I believe in the integration of both elements in real life, and of broadening the perspective given that all the elements are part of us.
As much as your work is based on nostalgia and memory, there is also an element of surrealism and otherworldliness in it. For example, in Untitled, the overturned glass of milk defies gravity while the breathing objects feel somewhat fantastical. It reminds me of the spiritual aspect of death — would you agree?
I agree. I believe in the continuation of life beyond the physical. I am not certain how, but I am convinced that something pursues somehow, in some kind of existence.
The book Papers from the Eranos Yearbooks edited by Joseph Campbell is part of your central installation piece and tackles philosophical questions surrounding time and death. I can see this thinking come through in your pieces — how much other influence has come from your personal philosophies, beliefs or experiences surrounding death?
The foundation as mentioned is very personal, it stems from my own experience, the grieving process, my thoughts, reflections, dreams, talks with others, readings, watching movies and more.
What would you like the viewer to take away from your show?
It would mean a lot to me if the viewer would be emotionally touched, that something would stir inside and trigger thoughts about their own life, their own fragility and their connection to objects.
You can visit the exhibition from now until 17th September for free. For more information and opening times please visit the Omer Tiroche Gallery website.
In a room where books breathe and plates do not shatter, multi-disciplinary artist Maayan Sophia Weisstub takes us on a contemplative journey, exploring the fragility of our existence and the inevitability of death. Her works bridge the gap between the inanimate and the living, the material and the spiritual.
Weisstub, born in Jerusalem and currently based in London where she recently completed her studies at the Royal College of Art, now exhibits her first UK solo show, Mnēme, at Omer Tiroche Gallery. Weisstub’s works sit at the core of what it is to be human, navigating through internal feelings of loss and grief. These tenderly moving works invite the viewer to reflect on fundamental questions regarding life, death, memory and eternity, all through the careful use and alteration of banal, everyday objects.
The central installation piece and focal point of the gallery is a familiar sight from afar; an ordinary-looking fifties-style, wooden, study desk with a chair pulled up beside it. An open book lays flat on the surface of the desk, alongside a half-filled glass of milk. It is the sort of sight you might predict to see while peering into a neighbour’s sitting room, half-expecting to see a glimpse of a hand turning a page of the book. Yet any feelings of anticipation here are quickly erased at closer inspection. A pre-existing kind of presence can be felt in the objects themselves as they steadily pulsate, mimicking the movement of breath. The lived experience and memories associated with these inanimate objects are immortalised. The result is bittersweet; eerie yet reassuring all at once. A gasp of surprise and a sigh of warming relief.
Read our interview with Weisstub as she provides insight into her own perspectives regarding death and grief, her practice and inspiration for the show…
What inspired this series of works?
My father passed away six years ago, after a long and meaningful struggle with cancer. I am still processing the loss. Working with and around objects that contain feelings attached to him is part of that journey. Art is my way to deepen my understanding, express and work through my thoughts and feelings.
What led you to shift your practice from 2D collage to 3D physical installations and moving image? Is this a direction you want to move towards more?
In the past, I have made political street art installations and short videos. These mediums intrigued me for a long time. Studying in the RCA encouraged me to delve into those processes and production. I would certainly like to continue and develop in this direction in the future.
Your previous work is often humorous and satirical, whereas Mnēmē feels deeply personal and beautifully sentimental. Did this series feel very different to make from your perspective compared to your earlier work?
Yes, A lot of my work has a satirical, funny aspect to it, yet if you look at the body of my creations you can also track the beginning and birth of this theme. It does not feel foreign, quite the opposite, it is profoundly connected to my inner experience.
Your work in Mnēmē touches on the fragility of life. How does the choice of objects and their physical properties relate to this theme?
The choice of the objects was very personal, yet I wanted to make sure that the final scene would be banal, so inviting personal projections from everyone exposed to it. The furnitures are similar to the one my father had growing up. They were part of my home, my childhood environment. The desk, the chair, the objects on the table can be anyone’s study corner, dining table etc.
I am interested in the duality in your installation piece — why is the distinction between femininity versus masculinity important to you? For example, in the glass of milk in contrast with the book.
That contrast exaggerates the dichotomy between the masculine and feminine on a symbolic level (relying on mainly Jungian perspective). I believe in the integration of both elements in real life, and of broadening the perspective given that all the elements are part of us.
As much as your work is based on nostalgia and memory, there is also an element of surrealism and otherworldliness in it. For example, in Untitled, the overturned glass of milk defies gravity while the breathing objects feel somewhat fantastical. It reminds me of the spiritual aspect of death — would you agree?
I agree. I believe in the continuation of life beyond the physical. I am not certain how, but I am convinced that something pursues somehow, in some kind of existence.
The book Papers from the Eranos Yearbooks edited by Joseph Campbell is part of your central installation piece and tackles philosophical questions surrounding time and death. I can see this thinking come through in your pieces — how much other influence has come from your personal philosophies, beliefs or experiences surrounding death?
The foundation as mentioned is very personal, it stems from my own experience, the grieving process, my thoughts, reflections, dreams, talks with others, readings, watching movies and more.
What would you like the viewer to take away from your show?
It would mean a lot to me if the viewer would be emotionally touched, that something would stir inside and trigger thoughts about their own life, their own fragility and their connection to objects.
You can visit the exhibition from now until 17th September for free. For more information and opening times please visit the Omer Tiroche Gallery website.
In a room where books breathe and plates do not shatter, multi-disciplinary artist Maayan Sophia Weisstub takes us on a contemplative journey, exploring the fragility of our existence and the inevitability of death. Her works bridge the gap between the inanimate and the living, the material and the spiritual.
Weisstub, born in Jerusalem and currently based in London where she recently completed her studies at the Royal College of Art, now exhibits her first UK solo show, Mnēme, at Omer Tiroche Gallery. Weisstub’s works sit at the core of what it is to be human, navigating through internal feelings of loss and grief. These tenderly moving works invite the viewer to reflect on fundamental questions regarding life, death, memory and eternity, all through the careful use and alteration of banal, everyday objects.
The central installation piece and focal point of the gallery is a familiar sight from afar; an ordinary-looking fifties-style, wooden, study desk with a chair pulled up beside it. An open book lays flat on the surface of the desk, alongside a half-filled glass of milk. It is the sort of sight you might predict to see while peering into a neighbour’s sitting room, half-expecting to see a glimpse of a hand turning a page of the book. Yet any feelings of anticipation here are quickly erased at closer inspection. A pre-existing kind of presence can be felt in the objects themselves as they steadily pulsate, mimicking the movement of breath. The lived experience and memories associated with these inanimate objects are immortalised. The result is bittersweet; eerie yet reassuring all at once. A gasp of surprise and a sigh of warming relief.
Read our interview with Weisstub as she provides insight into her own perspectives regarding death and grief, her practice and inspiration for the show…
What inspired this series of works?
My father passed away six years ago, after a long and meaningful struggle with cancer. I am still processing the loss. Working with and around objects that contain feelings attached to him is part of that journey. Art is my way to deepen my understanding, express and work through my thoughts and feelings.
What led you to shift your practice from 2D collage to 3D physical installations and moving image? Is this a direction you want to move towards more?
In the past, I have made political street art installations and short videos. These mediums intrigued me for a long time. Studying in the RCA encouraged me to delve into those processes and production. I would certainly like to continue and develop in this direction in the future.
Your previous work is often humorous and satirical, whereas Mnēmē feels deeply personal and beautifully sentimental. Did this series feel very different to make from your perspective compared to your earlier work?
Yes, A lot of my work has a satirical, funny aspect to it, yet if you look at the body of my creations you can also track the beginning and birth of this theme. It does not feel foreign, quite the opposite, it is profoundly connected to my inner experience.
Your work in Mnēmē touches on the fragility of life. How does the choice of objects and their physical properties relate to this theme?
The choice of the objects was very personal, yet I wanted to make sure that the final scene would be banal, so inviting personal projections from everyone exposed to it. The furnitures are similar to the one my father had growing up. They were part of my home, my childhood environment. The desk, the chair, the objects on the table can be anyone’s study corner, dining table etc.
I am interested in the duality in your installation piece — why is the distinction between femininity versus masculinity important to you? For example, in the glass of milk in contrast with the book.
That contrast exaggerates the dichotomy between the masculine and feminine on a symbolic level (relying on mainly Jungian perspective). I believe in the integration of both elements in real life, and of broadening the perspective given that all the elements are part of us.
As much as your work is based on nostalgia and memory, there is also an element of surrealism and otherworldliness in it. For example, in Untitled, the overturned glass of milk defies gravity while the breathing objects feel somewhat fantastical. It reminds me of the spiritual aspect of death — would you agree?
I agree. I believe in the continuation of life beyond the physical. I am not certain how, but I am convinced that something pursues somehow, in some kind of existence.
The book Papers from the Eranos Yearbooks edited by Joseph Campbell is part of your central installation piece and tackles philosophical questions surrounding time and death. I can see this thinking come through in your pieces — how much other influence has come from your personal philosophies, beliefs or experiences surrounding death?
The foundation as mentioned is very personal, it stems from my own experience, the grieving process, my thoughts, reflections, dreams, talks with others, readings, watching movies and more.
What would you like the viewer to take away from your show?
It would mean a lot to me if the viewer would be emotionally touched, that something would stir inside and trigger thoughts about their own life, their own fragility and their connection to objects.
You can visit the exhibition from now until 17th September for free. For more information and opening times please visit the Omer Tiroche Gallery website.
In a room where books breathe and plates do not shatter, multi-disciplinary artist Maayan Sophia Weisstub takes us on a contemplative journey, exploring the fragility of our existence and the inevitability of death. Her works bridge the gap between the inanimate and the living, the material and the spiritual.
Weisstub, born in Jerusalem and currently based in London where she recently completed her studies at the Royal College of Art, now exhibits her first UK solo show, Mnēme, at Omer Tiroche Gallery. Weisstub’s works sit at the core of what it is to be human, navigating through internal feelings of loss and grief. These tenderly moving works invite the viewer to reflect on fundamental questions regarding life, death, memory and eternity, all through the careful use and alteration of banal, everyday objects.
The central installation piece and focal point of the gallery is a familiar sight from afar; an ordinary-looking fifties-style, wooden, study desk with a chair pulled up beside it. An open book lays flat on the surface of the desk, alongside a half-filled glass of milk. It is the sort of sight you might predict to see while peering into a neighbour’s sitting room, half-expecting to see a glimpse of a hand turning a page of the book. Yet any feelings of anticipation here are quickly erased at closer inspection. A pre-existing kind of presence can be felt in the objects themselves as they steadily pulsate, mimicking the movement of breath. The lived experience and memories associated with these inanimate objects are immortalised. The result is bittersweet; eerie yet reassuring all at once. A gasp of surprise and a sigh of warming relief.
Read our interview with Weisstub as she provides insight into her own perspectives regarding death and grief, her practice and inspiration for the show…
What inspired this series of works?
My father passed away six years ago, after a long and meaningful struggle with cancer. I am still processing the loss. Working with and around objects that contain feelings attached to him is part of that journey. Art is my way to deepen my understanding, express and work through my thoughts and feelings.
What led you to shift your practice from 2D collage to 3D physical installations and moving image? Is this a direction you want to move towards more?
In the past, I have made political street art installations and short videos. These mediums intrigued me for a long time. Studying in the RCA encouraged me to delve into those processes and production. I would certainly like to continue and develop in this direction in the future.
Your previous work is often humorous and satirical, whereas Mnēmē feels deeply personal and beautifully sentimental. Did this series feel very different to make from your perspective compared to your earlier work?
Yes, A lot of my work has a satirical, funny aspect to it, yet if you look at the body of my creations you can also track the beginning and birth of this theme. It does not feel foreign, quite the opposite, it is profoundly connected to my inner experience.
Your work in Mnēmē touches on the fragility of life. How does the choice of objects and their physical properties relate to this theme?
The choice of the objects was very personal, yet I wanted to make sure that the final scene would be banal, so inviting personal projections from everyone exposed to it. The furnitures are similar to the one my father had growing up. They were part of my home, my childhood environment. The desk, the chair, the objects on the table can be anyone’s study corner, dining table etc.
I am interested in the duality in your installation piece — why is the distinction between femininity versus masculinity important to you? For example, in the glass of milk in contrast with the book.
That contrast exaggerates the dichotomy between the masculine and feminine on a symbolic level (relying on mainly Jungian perspective). I believe in the integration of both elements in real life, and of broadening the perspective given that all the elements are part of us.
As much as your work is based on nostalgia and memory, there is also an element of surrealism and otherworldliness in it. For example, in Untitled, the overturned glass of milk defies gravity while the breathing objects feel somewhat fantastical. It reminds me of the spiritual aspect of death — would you agree?
I agree. I believe in the continuation of life beyond the physical. I am not certain how, but I am convinced that something pursues somehow, in some kind of existence.
The book Papers from the Eranos Yearbooks edited by Joseph Campbell is part of your central installation piece and tackles philosophical questions surrounding time and death. I can see this thinking come through in your pieces — how much other influence has come from your personal philosophies, beliefs or experiences surrounding death?
The foundation as mentioned is very personal, it stems from my own experience, the grieving process, my thoughts, reflections, dreams, talks with others, readings, watching movies and more.
What would you like the viewer to take away from your show?
It would mean a lot to me if the viewer would be emotionally touched, that something would stir inside and trigger thoughts about their own life, their own fragility and their connection to objects.
You can visit the exhibition from now until 17th September for free. For more information and opening times please visit the Omer Tiroche Gallery website.
In a room where books breathe and plates do not shatter, multi-disciplinary artist Maayan Sophia Weisstub takes us on a contemplative journey, exploring the fragility of our existence and the inevitability of death. Her works bridge the gap between the inanimate and the living, the material and the spiritual.
Weisstub, born in Jerusalem and currently based in London where she recently completed her studies at the Royal College of Art, now exhibits her first UK solo show, Mnēme, at Omer Tiroche Gallery. Weisstub’s works sit at the core of what it is to be human, navigating through internal feelings of loss and grief. These tenderly moving works invite the viewer to reflect on fundamental questions regarding life, death, memory and eternity, all through the careful use and alteration of banal, everyday objects.
The central installation piece and focal point of the gallery is a familiar sight from afar; an ordinary-looking fifties-style, wooden, study desk with a chair pulled up beside it. An open book lays flat on the surface of the desk, alongside a half-filled glass of milk. It is the sort of sight you might predict to see while peering into a neighbour’s sitting room, half-expecting to see a glimpse of a hand turning a page of the book. Yet any feelings of anticipation here are quickly erased at closer inspection. A pre-existing kind of presence can be felt in the objects themselves as they steadily pulsate, mimicking the movement of breath. The lived experience and memories associated with these inanimate objects are immortalised. The result is bittersweet; eerie yet reassuring all at once. A gasp of surprise and a sigh of warming relief.
Read our interview with Weisstub as she provides insight into her own perspectives regarding death and grief, her practice and inspiration for the show…
What inspired this series of works?
My father passed away six years ago, after a long and meaningful struggle with cancer. I am still processing the loss. Working with and around objects that contain feelings attached to him is part of that journey. Art is my way to deepen my understanding, express and work through my thoughts and feelings.
What led you to shift your practice from 2D collage to 3D physical installations and moving image? Is this a direction you want to move towards more?
In the past, I have made political street art installations and short videos. These mediums intrigued me for a long time. Studying in the RCA encouraged me to delve into those processes and production. I would certainly like to continue and develop in this direction in the future.
Your previous work is often humorous and satirical, whereas Mnēmē feels deeply personal and beautifully sentimental. Did this series feel very different to make from your perspective compared to your earlier work?
Yes, A lot of my work has a satirical, funny aspect to it, yet if you look at the body of my creations you can also track the beginning and birth of this theme. It does not feel foreign, quite the opposite, it is profoundly connected to my inner experience.
Your work in Mnēmē touches on the fragility of life. How does the choice of objects and their physical properties relate to this theme?
The choice of the objects was very personal, yet I wanted to make sure that the final scene would be banal, so inviting personal projections from everyone exposed to it. The furnitures are similar to the one my father had growing up. They were part of my home, my childhood environment. The desk, the chair, the objects on the table can be anyone’s study corner, dining table etc.
I am interested in the duality in your installation piece — why is the distinction between femininity versus masculinity important to you? For example, in the glass of milk in contrast with the book.
That contrast exaggerates the dichotomy between the masculine and feminine on a symbolic level (relying on mainly Jungian perspective). I believe in the integration of both elements in real life, and of broadening the perspective given that all the elements are part of us.
As much as your work is based on nostalgia and memory, there is also an element of surrealism and otherworldliness in it. For example, in Untitled, the overturned glass of milk defies gravity while the breathing objects feel somewhat fantastical. It reminds me of the spiritual aspect of death — would you agree?
I agree. I believe in the continuation of life beyond the physical. I am not certain how, but I am convinced that something pursues somehow, in some kind of existence.
The book Papers from the Eranos Yearbooks edited by Joseph Campbell is part of your central installation piece and tackles philosophical questions surrounding time and death. I can see this thinking come through in your pieces — how much other influence has come from your personal philosophies, beliefs or experiences surrounding death?
The foundation as mentioned is very personal, it stems from my own experience, the grieving process, my thoughts, reflections, dreams, talks with others, readings, watching movies and more.
What would you like the viewer to take away from your show?
It would mean a lot to me if the viewer would be emotionally touched, that something would stir inside and trigger thoughts about their own life, their own fragility and their connection to objects.
You can visit the exhibition from now until 17th September for free. For more information and opening times please visit the Omer Tiroche Gallery website.
In a room where books breathe and plates do not shatter, multi-disciplinary artist Maayan Sophia Weisstub takes us on a contemplative journey, exploring the fragility of our existence and the inevitability of death. Her works bridge the gap between the inanimate and the living, the material and the spiritual.
Weisstub, born in Jerusalem and currently based in London where she recently completed her studies at the Royal College of Art, now exhibits her first UK solo show, Mnēme, at Omer Tiroche Gallery. Weisstub’s works sit at the core of what it is to be human, navigating through internal feelings of loss and grief. These tenderly moving works invite the viewer to reflect on fundamental questions regarding life, death, memory and eternity, all through the careful use and alteration of banal, everyday objects.
The central installation piece and focal point of the gallery is a familiar sight from afar; an ordinary-looking fifties-style, wooden, study desk with a chair pulled up beside it. An open book lays flat on the surface of the desk, alongside a half-filled glass of milk. It is the sort of sight you might predict to see while peering into a neighbour’s sitting room, half-expecting to see a glimpse of a hand turning a page of the book. Yet any feelings of anticipation here are quickly erased at closer inspection. A pre-existing kind of presence can be felt in the objects themselves as they steadily pulsate, mimicking the movement of breath. The lived experience and memories associated with these inanimate objects are immortalised. The result is bittersweet; eerie yet reassuring all at once. A gasp of surprise and a sigh of warming relief.
Read our interview with Weisstub as she provides insight into her own perspectives regarding death and grief, her practice and inspiration for the show…
What inspired this series of works?
My father passed away six years ago, after a long and meaningful struggle with cancer. I am still processing the loss. Working with and around objects that contain feelings attached to him is part of that journey. Art is my way to deepen my understanding, express and work through my thoughts and feelings.
What led you to shift your practice from 2D collage to 3D physical installations and moving image? Is this a direction you want to move towards more?
In the past, I have made political street art installations and short videos. These mediums intrigued me for a long time. Studying in the RCA encouraged me to delve into those processes and production. I would certainly like to continue and develop in this direction in the future.
Your previous work is often humorous and satirical, whereas Mnēmē feels deeply personal and beautifully sentimental. Did this series feel very different to make from your perspective compared to your earlier work?
Yes, A lot of my work has a satirical, funny aspect to it, yet if you look at the body of my creations you can also track the beginning and birth of this theme. It does not feel foreign, quite the opposite, it is profoundly connected to my inner experience.
Your work in Mnēmē touches on the fragility of life. How does the choice of objects and their physical properties relate to this theme?
The choice of the objects was very personal, yet I wanted to make sure that the final scene would be banal, so inviting personal projections from everyone exposed to it. The furnitures are similar to the one my father had growing up. They were part of my home, my childhood environment. The desk, the chair, the objects on the table can be anyone’s study corner, dining table etc.
I am interested in the duality in your installation piece — why is the distinction between femininity versus masculinity important to you? For example, in the glass of milk in contrast with the book.
That contrast exaggerates the dichotomy between the masculine and feminine on a symbolic level (relying on mainly Jungian perspective). I believe in the integration of both elements in real life, and of broadening the perspective given that all the elements are part of us.
As much as your work is based on nostalgia and memory, there is also an element of surrealism and otherworldliness in it. For example, in Untitled, the overturned glass of milk defies gravity while the breathing objects feel somewhat fantastical. It reminds me of the spiritual aspect of death — would you agree?
I agree. I believe in the continuation of life beyond the physical. I am not certain how, but I am convinced that something pursues somehow, in some kind of existence.
The book Papers from the Eranos Yearbooks edited by Joseph Campbell is part of your central installation piece and tackles philosophical questions surrounding time and death. I can see this thinking come through in your pieces — how much other influence has come from your personal philosophies, beliefs or experiences surrounding death?
The foundation as mentioned is very personal, it stems from my own experience, the grieving process, my thoughts, reflections, dreams, talks with others, readings, watching movies and more.
What would you like the viewer to take away from your show?
It would mean a lot to me if the viewer would be emotionally touched, that something would stir inside and trigger thoughts about their own life, their own fragility and their connection to objects.
You can visit the exhibition from now until 17th September for free. For more information and opening times please visit the Omer Tiroche Gallery website.
In a room where books breathe and plates do not shatter, multi-disciplinary artist Maayan Sophia Weisstub takes us on a contemplative journey, exploring the fragility of our existence and the inevitability of death. Her works bridge the gap between the inanimate and the living, the material and the spiritual.
Weisstub, born in Jerusalem and currently based in London where she recently completed her studies at the Royal College of Art, now exhibits her first UK solo show, Mnēme, at Omer Tiroche Gallery. Weisstub’s works sit at the core of what it is to be human, navigating through internal feelings of loss and grief. These tenderly moving works invite the viewer to reflect on fundamental questions regarding life, death, memory and eternity, all through the careful use and alteration of banal, everyday objects.
The central installation piece and focal point of the gallery is a familiar sight from afar; an ordinary-looking fifties-style, wooden, study desk with a chair pulled up beside it. An open book lays flat on the surface of the desk, alongside a half-filled glass of milk. It is the sort of sight you might predict to see while peering into a neighbour’s sitting room, half-expecting to see a glimpse of a hand turning a page of the book. Yet any feelings of anticipation here are quickly erased at closer inspection. A pre-existing kind of presence can be felt in the objects themselves as they steadily pulsate, mimicking the movement of breath. The lived experience and memories associated with these inanimate objects are immortalised. The result is bittersweet; eerie yet reassuring all at once. A gasp of surprise and a sigh of warming relief.
Read our interview with Weisstub as she provides insight into her own perspectives regarding death and grief, her practice and inspiration for the show…
What inspired this series of works?
My father passed away six years ago, after a long and meaningful struggle with cancer. I am still processing the loss. Working with and around objects that contain feelings attached to him is part of that journey. Art is my way to deepen my understanding, express and work through my thoughts and feelings.
What led you to shift your practice from 2D collage to 3D physical installations and moving image? Is this a direction you want to move towards more?
In the past, I have made political street art installations and short videos. These mediums intrigued me for a long time. Studying in the RCA encouraged me to delve into those processes and production. I would certainly like to continue and develop in this direction in the future.
Your previous work is often humorous and satirical, whereas Mnēmē feels deeply personal and beautifully sentimental. Did this series feel very different to make from your perspective compared to your earlier work?
Yes, A lot of my work has a satirical, funny aspect to it, yet if you look at the body of my creations you can also track the beginning and birth of this theme. It does not feel foreign, quite the opposite, it is profoundly connected to my inner experience.
Your work in Mnēmē touches on the fragility of life. How does the choice of objects and their physical properties relate to this theme?
The choice of the objects was very personal, yet I wanted to make sure that the final scene would be banal, so inviting personal projections from everyone exposed to it. The furnitures are similar to the one my father had growing up. They were part of my home, my childhood environment. The desk, the chair, the objects on the table can be anyone’s study corner, dining table etc.
I am interested in the duality in your installation piece — why is the distinction between femininity versus masculinity important to you? For example, in the glass of milk in contrast with the book.
That contrast exaggerates the dichotomy between the masculine and feminine on a symbolic level (relying on mainly Jungian perspective). I believe in the integration of both elements in real life, and of broadening the perspective given that all the elements are part of us.
As much as your work is based on nostalgia and memory, there is also an element of surrealism and otherworldliness in it. For example, in Untitled, the overturned glass of milk defies gravity while the breathing objects feel somewhat fantastical. It reminds me of the spiritual aspect of death — would you agree?
I agree. I believe in the continuation of life beyond the physical. I am not certain how, but I am convinced that something pursues somehow, in some kind of existence.
The book Papers from the Eranos Yearbooks edited by Joseph Campbell is part of your central installation piece and tackles philosophical questions surrounding time and death. I can see this thinking come through in your pieces — how much other influence has come from your personal philosophies, beliefs or experiences surrounding death?
The foundation as mentioned is very personal, it stems from my own experience, the grieving process, my thoughts, reflections, dreams, talks with others, readings, watching movies and more.
What would you like the viewer to take away from your show?
It would mean a lot to me if the viewer would be emotionally touched, that something would stir inside and trigger thoughts about their own life, their own fragility and their connection to objects.
You can visit the exhibition from now until 17th September for free. For more information and opening times please visit the Omer Tiroche Gallery website.
