The exhibition "I Speak Gibberish to You" by artist Batia Shani was scheduled to open at Studio Gallery Tel Aviv in October 2023. Shani had devoted over a year to its preparation, with the chosen works already framed and delivered to the studio, poised to be displayed in the gallery. However, the events of October 7 brought everything to a stop.
“At the beginning of the year of protests, when we thought things couldn’t get any harder, with so much frustration and the feeling that everything was heading in the wrong direction, I felt the need to return to my roots, to basics, to thread the needle and start from scratch, resetting everything,” she said.
“I set out with this intention, not thinking about an exhibition but rather the need to engage in something purer. When I saw that a lot of work had accumulated, I decided to put on an exhibition, intending to open it after the holidays in October,” Shani said.
“The war caught me while on vacation with my whole family, and I immediately decided to cancel the exhibition. It seemed irrelevant,” she said. “For months, I couldn’t create anything. I was paralyzed. Usually, my work provides me with balance and calm, but I suddenly discovered that my haven had vanished. I was in a state of turmoil where even the act of embroidery did not occur. It took me some time, but at a certain point, I decided that I had to return.”
Shani, whose current exhibition focuses on language, felt that words could no longer express her feelings and thoughts. Other symbols began to convey what words no longer could, creating her own alternative gibberish-like language. The gibberish she crafted in her embroidered images allowed her to express what language could no longer contain. “The words have been exhausted. We do not have words to express all the sadness and intense emotions in these times. The embroidered gibberish seems to fill the void.”
Shani, who recently received an honorary doctorate from the University of Haifa, where a retrospective exhibition of her work is currently on show, was born in Haifa in 1954. Her parents, Holocaust survivors, immigrated to Israel on a Ma’apilim boat a few years before her birth.
After completing her army service, she studied social work at the University of Haifa. Despite her professional path, her passion for art remained ever-present. In the late 1980s, after her family had relocated to the United Kingdom, she was accepted into the Royal School of Needlework. There, she finally pursued her passion and immersed herself in embroidery.
Understanding Shani's art as her sense of responsibility towards others
Balancing her career as a social worker with her family responsibilities, Shani’s art reflects her deep sense of responsibility toward others. Her experiences working with marginalized groups – victims of domestic abuse, trafficked children, and refugees – profoundly influence her creations, weaving stories of resilience and compassion into her intricate works.
Using found fabrics such as old clothes, tablecloths, and upholstery, Shani brings them back to life with her vibrant imagery that evolves during the creative process. “I don’t usually plan what the work will look like. I start with something and the work evolves as I go along,” She says.
“The needle moves as if on its own. My work is very intuitive. The words that I embroider on some of the pieces also come to me as I work,” she explains, stating that sometimes these words predict events she only realizes later.
The link between language and the craft of weaving is centuries-old. In classical culture, weaving was often used as a metaphor for a poet’s work – stitching words together to create a poem. This ancient connection is uniquely embodied in the works of Batia Shani.
In her embroidery, she imbues a gibberish language with meaning, allowing memories to float and thoughts to emerge, expressed through letters, syllables, numbers, and words.
“My work is hardly premeditated. There’s no real planning. I start with the materials around me, allowing things to happen. In the pieces I created for this exhibition, you can see something very pure – a desire to return to the basics, to start anew,” she confesses.
Shani embroiders phrases in her works that, she says, came to her while working. “Sometimes I plan them, but this time they simply emerged during the process. I embarked on a journey with the needle. I believe that maybe as a response to the overwhelming noise of the past year, my works have become more intimate. To truly appreciate them, you need to get close and examine them closely.”
The works in the exhibition are imbued with melancholy. According to Shani, despite the focus on pain, she maintains beauty and aesthetics because she cannot do otherwise. “The stitches are made with a needle that pricks the fabric, and often pricks my fingers too. I have to be careful not to let the blood stain the fabric, but sometimes I have to embroider over bloodstains. The same needle that wounds also mends and binds.
“I draw with thread and needle,” she says. “This is my way. To a large extent, this was the way of women throughout history who were not allowed to express themselves through art. Through embroidery, they could tell their stories and express themselves.”
Batia Shani, “I Speak Gibberish to You”, is on display at The Studio, 6 Hapelech Street, Tel Aviv, Curator Dr. Nava Sevilla-Sadeh. The exhibition will be on view until October 24, 2024.