Museum of coexistence and ‘giving a voice’

Jerusalem’s Museum on the Seam

MúzeumCafé 50.

One of Jerusalem’s most significant, albeit ‘peripheral’ institutes stands near a not particularly special tram stop. The building itself is striking, since the usual signs indicating many children, typical for an Orthodox neighbourhood – clothes hung out to dry, plastic toy cars – are missing from the museum’s edifice. Instead there is a semi-dilapidated terrace and concreted-up neo-Classical windows, which look blindly onto the neighbouring East Jerusalem Arab quarter and a car dealership. East Jerusalem is a disputed area in Israeli politics. It is Israeli territory with a Palestinian authority. Internationally no one recognises the capital, because everyone living here wants it to be their own, on the eastern and western sides of the divide alike. Jerusalem is the scene of a continuously changing status quo and here it is particularly tangible. The building was constructed in 1932 for the Barmki family. After it ceased to be residential, during the time of the division of Jerusalem (1948–1967) it was held by the Israeli army and known as the Turjeman Post. Today there are still crenelles on the facade, from where you can see the tram and the neighbourhood. In the distance there is the outline of a British church from the period of the Mandate. The place is quite chaotic both politically and socially, with a touch of European colonialism and oriental romanticism. Up to 1967 the Jordanian border ran by the side of the new tram line. With the Israelis’ victory in the Six Day War, East Jerusalem, along with the Old City, came under Israeli control, making the Wailing Wall again accessible and with this signifying that Jerusalem was unified. One of the neighbouring buildings is still in UN hands, since there used to be a crossing point here. Opposite, on the museum’s Orthodox quarter side, there is currently a Yeshiva (Jewish study centre) and the former Mandelbaum Gate, the checkpoint on the Jordan-Israel border. The lower floor of the building still bears the signs of neo-Romanticism with its pointed windows framed with red and white limestone. New floors added later have few signs of religious architecture. From the outside the institute is shrouded by a kind of mystery. The last time I visited there was a group of art lovers from Tel-Aviv – usually I see tourists and foreign university students, but no local Israelis. The three floors and a roof terrace are filled with both permanent and temporary exhibitions. The museum maintains an absolute impartiality in this community, which can hardly be called neutral. What is defining here is the society, the district and the conflicting ideologies. The district has already been mentioned, but a dissertation would not be enough to outline the society and the ideologies. Yet for the institute this setting is essential. The museum’s catchword, around which every exhibition is contracted – whether directly or indirectly – is ‘coexistence’. It is a term which hardly characterises the Holy City. Culture is possibly the only means of mediation in the city. However, the Museum on the Seam exists precisely on the narrow boundary, creatively balancing in the fields of the socio-political theme and the fine arts. The subjects of the temporary exhibitions are defined in the spirit of social consciousness and awareness, without disregarding the simultaneous presentation of the most diverse narratives side by side. In 1983 an exhibition on the city’s unification opened in the building with the cooperation of the German publisher committed to social awareness, Georg von Holtzbrinck, and one of Jerusalem’s most prominent mayors, Teddy Kollek. Reflecting the confidence of the 1990s and the apparent possibilities in connection with the expectations surrounding the Oslo peace accords, the museum, with its commitment to social tolerance, opened in the renovated building. Then in 2005 it officially became a museum committed to social policy under the leadership of Raphi Etgar. Interestingly, the museum does not feature strongly either locally or nationally and hardly appears in the consciousness of the academic community. There are several reasons for this. For example, the museum representing high cultural values addresses a narrow layer, even within the arts. In addition, it lacks an infrastructure for handling large numbers of visitors, although it deliberately avoids events and marketing aimed simply at popularity. The significance of the museum in Jerusalem lies in the fact that with its exhibitions and the building itself it precisely reflects the social tension, while keeping clear of the quarter of the strictly religious Orthodox, the Arab quarter and city’s general conservatism. In 2010 National Geographic listed the institute among the world’s ten unique museums not organised on the usual principles. In 2009 The New York Times placed the museum among the world’s top 29 leading arts centres. These listings indicate that its socially and politically sensitive exhibitions are of a high standard.