A breaking point is a threshold, the limit of one's capacity to contain. It is a moment in which the vital forces held within us are tested anew against the experience of a reality suddenly overturned, jolting our world and fundamentally undermining the sense of stability that once seemed to exist.

The works by the three featured artists explore the ability to confront and cope with states of physical and emotional crisis. Working with fragile materials such as porcelain and glass, they create a space in which the wound is not concealed but exposed, assuming form and presence.

This notion is deeply rooted in the Japanese art of kintsugi—a traditional technique for repairing broken pottery using lacquer mixed with gold powder. Beyond the act of repair itself, kintsugi offers a way of perceiving fractures and cracks: not as a flaw or imperfection to be hidden, but as testimony to what the body or vessel has undergone, as an integral part of its existence.

In Iris Nesher's works, delicate porcelain vessels resemble wounded bodies or ghostly husks. The cracks, tears, and folds formed during the process, as well as the traces of reassembled parts reminding of broken wings become an essential part of the work itself. As manifestations of human vulnerability, they emphasize the emptiness opened within it.

In Noa Hagiladi's glass works, the fracture is not an end, but a temporary state. It recurs as a moment in an ongoing cycle of disintegration and reintegration. The panes of the greenhouse belonging to the artist's family on the moshav were shattered in a hailstorm during her childhood. Fragments of this violent rupture resurface in her work years later, as both image and substance. If I Am Crazy was created in the wake of a mental breakdown. Shards from the glass roof—mute witnesses to the helplessness, loneliness, and sorrow that struck her with full force—carry the transparent words and silences left around them, while also allowing the gaze to pass through them.

Martha Rieger's installation was created following a prolonged process of rehabilitation from an injury she sustained during the war. Through a slow, repetitive act of crochet, Rieger confronted pain, and gradually regained the use of her two broken hands. She wrapped fragile white porcelain forms resembling luffa with red cotton thread crocheted around them like bandages. Rather than concealing the wound, the threads weaving through the space emphasize it, sustaining the tension between pain and healing.

Together, the works in the exhibition move with great sensitivity along the fine line between fracture and healing. For the artists, vulnerability itself becomes a material. Through their engagement with it, beauty begins to emerge, and a space for breath suddenly opens in the crack itself. 

Curator: Shir Meller-Yamaguchi