The Exile Swings

Exhibition: The Exile Swings
Artist: Efrath Bouana

In this exhibition Bouana Efrath raises questions about the feeling of exile and foreignness and
deals not only in the negativity or positivity of the experience, but also capture the
extreme contrast of that being.
You can see that in the bold color palette she chose, which attract the viewers eyes into a
journey of a landscape full of life and movement, while in the same breath there are figures, some dramatic –
hanging or floating in the air without a stable anchor, as if thrown into a landscape they
are not belong to.
It's a state between life and death in which anything could happen, and yet you are in
between.
The way of experiencing the scenery, the scent, and the unique vibe of a foreign place, can
liberate from fixed mindset of cultural rituals and way of thinking that belongs to the origin
place.
At the same time rises experience relating to detachment and disconnecting from the roots
that enhance nostalgic feelings and longing to a memory and place you once were.
In these paintings, the feeling is subjective, and the landscape do not point to a known
geographical place. It is all from the painter inner world.
"Once you left, there are no coming back, you are a stranger everywhere. You are playing
with the force of gravity, the roots in your feet and the wings in your arms. These are two
edges that holds the tree trunk while swinging in the branches between heaven and earth
The swinging is a constant and continuous movement in space and is the only answer to the
absurd. You must keep on moving because no roots prepare you for landing." she says.

In Latin the word exile means "out of the land"
The artist embodies the metaphysic vision of a human after exile, through a
being that undergoes through death and then rises with wings of a bird, not
always by choice, but as a byproduct of deportation, survival, and
persecution.
In life the being remains between the wings longing to fly, and feet, whose
roots were cut off from the ground. Its only choice now is to find the
equilibrium point, just as a monkey swing between the branches, never
touching the ground. This is the absurd dance: the lightness required in the
face of the weight of the journey.
Neither flying, nor walking – only swinging.
The exile dance waving in the depth of the open sky. Lift your head up,
observe closely through your eyes. The rich choreography swaying the wind
from side to side.

O.A