Time is of the essence as far as David Wakstein is concerned. We all have busy schedules – deadlines to meet, kids to pick up from school, you name it. But in Wakstein's case, five minutes would have made the world of difference to the way his life has panned out. Forty-three years ago, the now 62-year-old artist, curator, arts educator and project pusher was an IDF cadet undergoing training in the Armored Corps. Then the Yom Kippur War broke out, and the fresh faced 18-year-old was summarily thrust into the thick of the battlefield action in the Sinai Peninsula. After close to three weeks of fighting, a cease-fire was arranged by the United Nations. It was due to come into force several hours after the resolution was made in New York, but it came just too late for Wakstein. Five minutes before fighting abated, at least for a while, Wakstein's tank was hit by an Egyptian missile. Two of his comrades were killed outright. Wakstein suffered injuries, in particular to his left arm and, of course, was emotionally shaken. Not that you would know it. When I met Wakstein at the Negev Museum of Art in Beersheba, a few days before Yom Kippur, he came over as a genial, generous character. I biked down south to see Wakstein's latest initiative, an expansive exhibition which goes by the name of the Art Camp, 2016: Art Activists. All told, the show takes in works by 120 artists – the figure symbolically references the number of Knesset members – from a wide cross-section of the creative community, in terms of age, style, and social and ethnic backdrop. The celebs in the lineup include Israel Prize laureates Dani Karavan and Micha Ullman, both of whom are best known for their sculptures, and Yair Garbuz, Rafi Lavie and Gideon Gechtman. There are other acclaimed exhibitors at the Negev Museum, such as Farid Abu Shakra, Art Port scholarship and Mifal Hapayis Prize recipient Fatma Shanan Dery, and Culture Ministry Lifetime Achievement Award winner Tsibi Geva. Wakstein also made one contribution to the show, an intriguing mixed discipline piece called Arye, Gal and Rafi, which incorporates painting, mosaic and photocopied images. Artwork by Michal Neeman (photo credit: RAN ERDE) It is testament to Wakstein's standing in the local arts community that he was able to recruit such stellar creators to his latest project, and he recently received official kudos himself when he was awarded this year's Einstein Prize for artists aged 60 and over. The jurors said that the award, which was established in memory of late iconic pop singer Arik Einstein, and is given annually to 21 artists across a range of disciplines, was made to Wakstein as his works “address the open wounds of Israeli society – wars and conflicts, and the history that exists in the present.” This is the ninth time that Wakstein has put on the annual show. The Art Camp comprises works which the curator culled from a wide range of artists. Each has complete creative freedom, although Wakstein lays down two rules: the works must not be large, and they must have been made within the six-month period prior to the exhibition. Although there is no thematic agenda, running your eye across the 120 works deployed on both levels of the Negev Museum gives one the impression that there are some pretty strong statements in there. Garbuz's The Minority has a Majority comes across as a cry for justice or help, and there are varying degrees of powerful emotions, and even a modicum of angst elsewhere in the lineup. Interestingly, most of the works are arranged in threes, which puts one in mind of military decorum. Wakstein is a down-to-earth mover and shaker on the local arts scene. You might not see him striding through the capacious halls of the Tel Aviv Museum or the Israel Museum, but he is enthusiastically active at the grassroots level. Until recently he ran an arts workshop for Jewish and Arab youth in Ramle. That was curtailed by the local authority, and Wakstein is currently considering his options. “I may do something in Rahat,” he muses. “We'll see.” Wakstein has come a long way since that fateful day in October 1973. While he was lying in the hospital his father did his utmost to try to get his son back into a more positive mind-set. “He registered me for a life sciences degree at Tel Aviv University,” Wakstein recalls. It was a practically motivated move. “There were places on the program,” the curator adds simply. But the young Yom Kippur War vet was looking for a different route to self-expression, and he soon quit the program and relocated to Jerusalem, where he began an arts degree at Bezalel. Wakstein had a lot to express through his art, and he wasn't alone. “There were other students who had been in the war, like me,” he says. “We all wanted to say something, to get something out.” But the powers-that-be at the college were having none of that. “I felt that there was no room for what I saw as the therapeutic powers of art, or something that could be utilized to make the world a better place, in the educational, cultural, instructional agenda at Bezalel,” he said. “There were plenty of other students there who had come out of the war with scars – physical and emotional. The teachers were stuck in their techniques.” Back then, Wakstein says, psychological terms such as post traumatic stress disorder were not part of everyday conversation. “They were just beginning to understand the connection between trauma and war, and artistic expression.” Wakstein tried to get the college to accommodate his, and others', emotional needs. “We wanted to talk about that, about the role of art as a means of expression,” he remembers. “We didn't know how to put it then. Most of the teachers had not been in the war, but even the ones that were there [in the war] didn't see art as a way of expressing such powerful emotions. I couldn't take their dictates. I realized I had to contribute to the educational process myself.” That led to a student rebellion, and Wakstein eventually quit his studies at the end of the third year of a four-year program. Wakstein keeps up his sterling work with youth, and tries to convey to them his highly tangible understanding of what it means to produce art. “When I was in the tank, and it was hit, that maybe helped me realize what substance really is – substance that can be shattered. As artists we all work with materials.” And he is still fighting the powers that be. “It is not by chance that this exhibition is here, in Beersheba, and not in Tel Aviv. This is the Art Camp's ninth exhibition, and there is absolutely no chance of this being accepted by the establishment. Today, they are even more wary of this kind of artistic expression than they were all those years ago. The institutions are tough and unyielding. They kowtow to international movements in art, and really fear the artists who sweat and stink our simple lives.” As we parted, and wished each other a shana tova, Wakstein again noted that it was a difficult time of year for him. “I can still see the convoys in Sinai, and those young men who died, who can't express themselves in this life anymore. We have to live, and to express ourselves.” Art Camp, 2016: Art Activists closes on November 12. For more information: (08) 699-3535, and www.negev-museum.co.il.
David Wakstein (L) and Beersheba Mayor Ruvik Danilovich at the exhibitionUpdated: Read More