Eran Wolkowski and Doron Brachfeld

Twenty Years

17/10-22/11/2025

Thin sheets of paper with images that seem about to reveal the story, and metal sculptures bearing traces of a story that can no longer be reconstructed, comprise the joint exhibition by Doron Brachfeld and Eran Wolkowski.

The shapes and contexts move along the deciphering axis. Shapes emerge from the jumble of patches on the paper: a tree and a procession of riders, silhouettes of women and isolated contour lines depicting horses and male figures, airplanes and landscapes of faraway places. They seem like vague scenes from old action movies. The few texts are reminiscent of passages from distant stories that we may or may not have read. The thin paper seems to have just been torn from the sketchbook and an old phone book. The colors are intense, the blue is not just blue, and the red is not just red. The colors have been mixed, and they too refuse to be clearly defined. Some of the iron sculptures stand on pedestals, and some hang on the wall among the paintings, connecting familiar-looking elements and parts that seem invented, creating a collection of shapes that are momentarily decipherable: here is a rifle, there is a man, and perhaps a twisted rope. But at the next glance, the shape becomes blurred and returns to its parts. The sculptures are rigid in their materiality and at the same time soft in their forms and exposed in their rusted fragility.

A horse and rider, colorful cars, naked women, airplanes in the sky, and metal sculptures with paint and rust stains create tension between form and function, between the abstract and the imaginary.

Eran Wolkowski's paper works have been made over the past fifteen years, while Doron Brachfeld's sculptures are from the last two years.

These days, it seems hard to write about art in detachment from a reality in which it is difficult to name what our eyes formulate, as they refuse to see the forms that compose it.

Efrat Klipstein

October 2025