Melting Point

The vessel is created using a technique similar to basket weaving: warp threads are densely layered one on top of another to create a base from which growth can emerge. The weft thread intertwines with the warp threads and rises in a circular movement to form a single, unified vessel. In a world shaped by separation and division, this work reminds me of unity. The connection between us is invisible, even though we all emerged from the same melting point.

Prosperity often reveals itself through the shifting landscape of material culture – what is made locally, what is imported, and what values these objects embody. This work explores how desire, symbolism, and local identity intersect, reframing the classic pearl necklace through a culturally grounded lens.

By pairing hummus with pearls , the food of the local people and ‘the gem of the people’(as the pearl called by Mikimoto), I invite a reconsideration of how local icons are formed.

Palming explores the reintroduction of the body into the act of writing in an age when this intimate connection has largely been lost. Reflecting on the shift from corporeal to digital modes of expression, the work seeks to restore to writing its sense of touch, weight, and human presence.

Crafted from sterling silver and shaped to fit the contours of the hand, the pen blurs the boundary between body and object. At the meeting point between cold metal and warm skin, a subtle fusion occurs, an embodiment of the desire to reconnect person, gesture, and material through the act of writing.

Beyond its technical function, the melting pot also serves as a metaphor for a socio-cultural process in which diverse groups merge into a single, homogeneous society. In metalsmithing, creating a new alloy requires precision: a clean crucible, proper temperature, an oxygen-rich environment, flux as a bonding agent, and careful timing. Failure in any of these elements may prevent the desired fusion. Likewise, the merging of different identities requires more than the right conditions: it demands intention, sensitivity, and a genuine desire to form a new and balanced whole.

In the series A Good Place in the Middle, I transfer physical objects from the external world into a framed window of memory. Inspired by the Kinneret landscape, I collected incidental objects encountered along my way and transformed them into a shared memory image. Their essence becomes blurred and dissolved, as if melting into a generalized impression of the landscape itself. This dual transition – from the material to the remembered, and from the personal to the collective – reflects the melting point as a metaphor for the transformation of matter into memory.

The brooches from the Embroidered Rings series were created from rings that had been completed and stored for many years. Motivated by a desire to repurpose them, the rings were flattened and transformed into a base for a new artistic exploration. A delicate silver mesh was soldered onto the flatten rings, and cross-stitch patterns were embroidered using textile thread. The work reflects a dialogue between materials and qualities – metal and fabric, rigidity and softness, cold and warmth, resulting in a new object that carries traces of memory and transformation.

The skin serves as the body’s outer interface, concealing blood, flesh, and bone beneath its surface. Thinking about this hidden interior can be unsettling, even frightening. Through movement, the skin is revealed, and the body’s temperature is measured upon it.

The work was born from a single sheet of wax, torn by bare hands into small fragments and pressed together into one body. The act became a ritual of memory and matter, where layers of time, identity and emotion melt and merge into one another. The silver casting captures the fragility and movement of the original material. The wax threads from which the work is suspended express the tension between softness and strength. Each thread alone is thin and vulnerable, yet together they form a single body that holds, carries and gives rise to new life, between memory and renewal, and between fracture and rebirth.

The Homes and the Homes That Remain emerges from material memory, where it is reassembled from fragments of absence. The work weaves a living dialogue between nature and culture, past and present, and between what has been lost and what begins anew. A delicate process of disassembly and reconstruction, of loss and becoming.

The brooches were created in October 2023. The encounter between the cold, sharp metal and the olive branch – a living material that holds within it the potential to break, distort, and change – emerged almost on its own. The symbolic meanings surface naturally in this meeting of strength and vulnerability, loss and hope.

The work continues to change and carries the marks of time: a memory of what once was and a testimony to all that endures. It offers a renewed reflection on the reality that has formed – a layered space holding within it memory, rupture and repair, transience and security – and raises questions of identity and the values that shape us, both as individuals and as a society.

My works respond to rupture, a melting point in a turbulent, dynamic, and changing world. They explore personal and national identity, migration, rootedness, and survival. I fuse materials from different worlds into new identities. The series deals with the ability to survive in extreme conditions. 

The brooch resembles a living organism, quietly spreading across the body as if seeking to grow and claim it. It embodies a subtle fear: the moment when ornament shifts into domination, when the jewel begins to outshine its wearer. I am drawn to that fragile threshold where adornment becomes intrusion, and the wearer’s body transforms into a living pedestal for the jewelry itself.

A soft drink can, crushed, forgotten, and discarded near the Kalandia checkpoint, is attached as a pendant to a silver object via a metal hinge. The work expresses contrast, resilience, and transformation. Created amid conflict, it serves as both a protest and a vision of coexistence, revealing the potential for humanity and the fragile hope for peace.

The encounter between rusty iron and 18K gold embodies a fascinating dialogue between time
and eternity. The corroded iron bears the ravages of time, while the gold breathes new life into it,
a new existence. In their encounter, a space emerges where time itself takes shape – between
cold and heat, melting and fusion, a point of convergence where fracture becomes not an end,
but the beginning of a different kind of wholeness – damaged, yet alive.

“Mashrabiya” is a wide-ranging series. The mashrabiya is a traditional architectural element in Islamic culture, particularly in Arab and Ottoman architecture. It is a carved wooden lattice, composed of delicate geometric motifs that repeat to form spectacular patterns of light and shadow. It allows for natural ventilation of the space while maintaining modesty and privacy for women and household members while preserving privacy and modesty within the home.
At the beginning of the collection’s design, I worked with traditional geometric patterns in various resolutions and later on in designing non-geometric patterns and even using AI (Midjourney) to create freehand patterns.

Fragments of hand-painted Chinese porcelain, created centuries ago, were given to me as part of an Israeli-Chinese project (Palace of Shattered Vessels), and became a point of dialogue between past and present. Inspired by the Kabbalistic concept of Shevirat HaKelim, I created a series of jewelry pieces in which ancient ceramic shards are fused with silver. Through this act of joining and continuation, I extend the ancient brushstroke into the present – transforming fracture into renewal, distance into connection, and time into a single, continuous creative gesture.

The series Pieces of Life is composed of pencil shavings joined into delicate, concave forms that reflect the fragility of the world we inhabit. The graphite edges of the shavings form patterns reminiscent of the lace doilies of my childhood – traces of tenderness preserved in memory. Each object embodies a search for a personal language, one that weaves together the cultural threads of my upbringing with a deep reverence for the handmade. For me, the act of working in the studio becomes a bridge between my inner world and the trembling reality beyond the door. In a time when fundamental values are shifting and eroding, the touch of raw material offers a spiritual anchor – a quiet hope – through which I find inner order and containment.

The objects were created by sintering steel powders. During this process, the material is fired at a very high temperature, close to its melting point, where the particles fuse to form a solid structure. The objects are constructed as a hollow metal forms, made from a single piece of metal without any joints or seams. The work echoes a delicate and unique moment in time: the moment near the melting point, when the material is on the verge of collapse, and the conditions for transformation and the emergence of something new are created. 

In her poem “Cirque d’Hiver” Elizabeth Bishop depicts the exhausting, circular

motion of an old mechanical toy. A tin circus horse, who bears a little dancer on his

back, flits across the floor. Pierced to his body, the dancer “stands upon her toes

and turns and turns” while the horse himself canters, turns, and bows.

Thin silver lines attempt to echo this circular movement in space: a sharp, repetitive

dance with no beginning or end.

Salt has always been a sacred element, granting permanence to things perishable. But it is also the

most common of all magical substances. The salt rings gesture toward eternity while remaining

earthly – painfully close, almost within reach.

They carry the wistful appearance of archaeological artefacts: their surface smooth and sealed. Yet,

broken from the casting sprue, their upper planes are fractured, allowing them to shimmer like

precious stones. This reveals the reorganized fractal structure of the salt crystals at the end of the

casting process.

A monumental necklace made of metal structures covered in gray polymer, re-exposed through

grinding and sanding. The work combines classical goldsmithing techniques with industrial material.

The working process, oscillating between control, loss of control and randomness, gives each plate a

different surface and highlights unique details of the metal structure. The plates appear as fragments

torn from an architectural structure, carrying with them traces of time and material. The size and

physical weight of the jewelry challenge the boundaries between jewelry, object and sculpture.

In the situation we have found ourselves in, purity has become bland to me. Using centrifuges and

casting furnaces, I embarked on a study of images and textures that express the deep abyss of our

broken society’s core.

I moved between organic imagery and forms created digitally. Through these works, I view the casting

process as an alchemical phenomenon. The castings allow me to observe the object as if it were

reborn and frozen in time. This suspension enables me to express the pain and beauty woven

together within the jewelry and sculptures, immortalizing their form, in both their brokenness and their

wholeness, forever.

After becoming a mother, I often found myself missing my parents, who had passed away. I

wished they could have been there to share my experiences and the emotional moments: my

child’s first smile, as well as the sad or difficult ones, like illness. I longed for their advice and

comfort.

We all have that small corner table or stretch of wall where family photos are displayed – a

“photo corner” that offers comfort, nostalgia, and warmth.

In this piece, I created a photo corner I can carry with me – bringing together all my loved ones,

past and present.

My work explores the melting point – the moment where movement meets stillness, when matter

changes form yet retains the memory of motion. Through sculpting in wax and casting in sterling

silver, which I “whiten” by heating the metal and quenching it in water, I create jewelry pieces that

embody the spiral motions found in nature – between a leaf and a seashell.

The rings rest on the body in a unique orientation, emphasizing the relationship between movement,

material, and the body’s structure. The “whitened” silver offers a distinct sense of materiality – soft,

organic, almost breathing.

At this melting point, the solid metal becomes fluid in concept – a place where material, movement,

and memory merge into new creation.

This brooch is part of a pair. In the race of my artistic life, there is only yes and no — only one horse can win. But in life itself, the horses keep running: one runs toward its death, and another runs for its life.
The horses were born from the material; the work of art remains an act of creation with no death, yet life itself provides the ending.

The work is based on over a decade of photographing the sea with a phone – moments of composition and color; fleeting instants of passing experience. Selected images were transferred from the digital to the physical realm. When the plates and enamel reach the melting point, they vitrify, creating a tactile condition that transforms both texture and meaning. The heat blurs and deepens visual layers. The maker experiences a cognitive melting point, as decisions in framing, grouping, and placement shape the final composition. The pieces are presented as an evolving series that links water and sky, sand and sea, darkness and light, capturing fleeting moments and fixing them in permanence.

My project explores the relationship between myself, my mother, and my

grandmother. It developed during my grandmother’s illness, after the family gathered to say our final goodbyes – but then, unexpectedly she recovered from COVID-19. What seemed to help her most was preparing and beautifully arranging fruits, which we served her several times a day to

strengthen her, mostly lychee. Through my work I express this bond using metaphors of nourishment, shell, and flesh. Inspired by shapes and colors of fruits and body, I created a series of amulets that reflect love, support, and the natural cycle from youth to age, from body to soil.

In the fusion between light lava stones,

air-soaked and porous, and butterflies made of orchid petals,

a delicate promise of hope is woven.

In my series ״No Words״ I create three-dimensional rings from sheets of paper with printed texts taken from illustrated encyclopedias. I lay them down layer by layer, carving and filing them, exposing unexpected textures, colors, signs and words. The final objects bear the layered memory of the written words.

The observant viewer is invited to join me and carefully listen to the silent voices and hidden stories layered behind the words and between the lines.

The work embodies an act of destruction and the rejection of visual imagery as a critical stance – challenging conventions, exploring identity, and protesting institutional power. It examines how images derived from remnants of Judaica, commercial jewelry and other national symbols – are transformed and take on new meanings. I hybridize wax models collected from a Jerusalem foundry – and the symbols turn into hybrid creatures, evoking questions: Jerusalem of gold, or of darkness and light?

A dove returning with an olive leaf in its mouth heralded a new, safe and better life. These birds symbolize locality, continuity, peace and carry a prayer for the end of all wars.

In these tool-brooches, the hand and the tool converge at a moment where control gives way to

yielding and transformation.

Familiar tools are stripped of their function and assume new identities, embodying both the power of

craft and the fragile need for reflection and creation. The tools undergo material, formal and functional

distortions, inviting a release from the confines of matter and the everyday.

In a world of mobility and displacement, the bond between people and domestic objects transforms. As permanent place of residence becomes rare, objects gain emotional and symbolic value, offering continuity and belonging across changing geographies. This project explores essential household items as carriers of both material and immaterial meaning. Drawing on gestures rooted in daily rituals, it proposes a portable set of essentials – precious metals chosen for their tangible weight and lasting worth in crises. Based on archival research and surveys with 200 participants from nine countries, the study reveals that emotional attachment defines value, shaping a jewelry set for body and soul.

“Echoes of Time” series features sterling silver pendants, each created using the  hand-embossing technique. The core concept is that each piece is a “jewel within a jewel”, containing an image of an older, treasured piece. These images were drawn from family jewelry, creating a piece that carries the memory of another, acting as a visual quote spanning different eras. The pendant transcends mere adornment; it becomes a commemorative coin charged with historical memory.

Technique and Material: Silver, a timeless material, was selected as the ideal base for this goldsmithing work, specifically utilizing the traditional hand-embossing technique. Each pendant is designed as a unique “box” or frame that holds the embossed image, giving the piece a distinct texture and depth.

In “Point of view,” the incisive vision and the search for spiritual equilibrium are expressed through a

series of circular objects that integrate ebony wood with silver.

The series weaves together the conceptual essence of the eye as a window to the soul with the

symbolic representations of the perfect circle to express an essence that contains everything and

extends infinitely.

The precise positioning of the objects in relation to the body transforms the experience of wearing

them into one that expands awareness, stabilizes, and balances.

The Oxymora series emerges from an extended research process that brings together tradition
and innovation, production and contemplation, matter and spirit.
The works were created through a hybrid process of 3D printing and handcrafting, merging
techniques and materials. Polymer-printed parts are engineered to interlock with cast-metal
components previously printed in wax, and are then meticulously hand-assembled into a single
structure where the mechanism, usually hidden, plays a central role in the design.
Although the works rely on advanced digital technology, the creative process draws inspiration
from the principles of slow design and Zen, emphasizing mindfulness and flow. Immersion in
both material and process, even in an era of rapid digital pace, opens a space for inner quiet and
transformation

The piece explores the symbolic melting point of the human body, the moment of transition in which the stable form becomes open for transformation. The emphasis is on the phrase of livor mortis – the settling of blood after the heart stops functioning, which creates a visible change in skin color. Inspired by Victorian mourning jewelry, the phrase “Memento Mori” is engraved on the back. The work creates a connection between heritage and the contemporary, emphasizing the piece of jewelry as a testament to change and as both social and personal expression.

My work arises from an intergenerational dialogue with my grandfather, a painter who lived between 1920 and 1997 and never received recognition during his lifetime. As a child, we painted together: his canvases captured the HaTikva Market and everyday life, while mine envisioned the glamorous world of fashion and beauty – an aspiration he dismissed as “unreal.” These differences created silences, especially around issues of gender and homophobia present in his household.

Today I revisit those silences through jewelry. His paintings become raw material – canvases, frames, and digital disruptions – transformed into brooches and “space jewellery.” The human body becomes a living gallery, reframing his artistic legacy.

The result is a deeply personal melting point: a space where materials, memories, and conflicts fuse into a new form of creation. This act is both a recognition of my grandfather as an artist and a creative reckoning, rearticulating our shared history through the contemporary languages of jewellery, body, and voice.

The melting point is a characteristic property of a specific substance, much like our DNA.

I have been fascinated by the connection between art and science for many years. For both

disciplines, the natural world remains a primary source of inquiry and discovery.

Although they differ greatly, artists and scientists share a passion for understanding and revealing the

secrets of nature. I offer my own exploration of life forms, in the form of a work that recalls an earlier

time, when flowers were pressed between the pages of books and butterfly specimens were carefully

mounted and preserved.

A few years ago, I received a silver plate that had belonged to my grandfather, a metalsmith from

Egypt whom I never had the chance to know.

This was the first object through which I felt that shaping the plate into a seed coat, one that

supports the seed until it can stand on its own, was both precise and symbolic. A melting point

embodies both past and future: on the one hand, releasing the shell toward growth and evolution;

on the other, preserving ancient knowledge carried within our DNA.

Exposing and accepting our roots renders the essence of life more whole.

The wire is cut and soldered into an image. 

Milagros are traditionally small metal jewelry pieces or amulets attached to statues or images of saints in gratitude for a miracle or as a request for one to occur.

In this body of work, the collection of pendants and pins is made from silver chains embedded in black polyurethane creating a mix of images inspired both by original Milagros and  by everyday reality. The combination creates a new and unexpected narrative that touches on universal and local points of pain and hope. The wearer carries an object of prayer, yearning for the healing of wounds in body and soul.

The work consists of two parts, created thirty years apart, reflecting a shift in the relationship between

feeder and fed. Both series examine the narrative of the spoon from opposing perspectives.

At their intersection, a subtle displacement occurs: the protective act of feeding is reconsidered, and

the pushing motion – an embodiment of control – is transformed as boundaries blur and roles reverse.

The title “Don’t Push It” resonates as both warning and invitation, urging reflection on the moment

where care and control intertwine.

Brooch from the series “piapoa”, Layered enamel diffuse into surface, framing an exposed, missing or lost occurrence.

The work explores the notion of home: the search for it, the substances from which it is made, and the possibility of shaping it. It emerged from the question: what is home – a place of birth, given and predetermined, or a continuous creation of the self, shaped over a lifetime by our experiences, memories, and relationships? It becomes a habitat for seemingly incompatible materials – metal and plastic, silver and brass, matte and glossy, fragments of real plants and imagined flowers. From this alchemy emerges an inner, verdant, breathing space of belonging.

This piece, made from the Goldsberry shell, is a refinement of an element from one of the head ornament jewelry pieces.

This head ornament jewelry piece was inspired by memories from home and influenced by ethnographic jewelry displayed at the Israel Museum. I was deeply moved by the rich tapestry of cultural heritage, the enchantment of nature’s cycles, and the knowledge of the plants I worked with.

In this work, I combined materials and techniques from the world of jewelry-making, nature, and recycling – such as repurposed electrical wires from old cables and withered vegetation.

Wild plants are those that grow where they are not wanted and interfere with the growth of cultivated ones. Although the gardener works hard to uproot them and keep the garden clean, they also possess a wild, natural beauty.

In the series “Wild Plant,” the brooches represent the tension between cultivated beauty and natural wildness. Plants that would normally be considered unwanted or disruptive are reimagined as colorful, shiny, and synthetic forms exaggerated to the point of vulgarity. And yet, there remains a certain allure, a beauty that draws the eye precisely because of its excess.

The work was born from a feeling of longing for my family, who were far away while I was living in Germany, and from a desire to understand the components of my identity and the roots I carry with me. Instinctively, I began digging through an old collection of black-and-white photographs of my grandparents from different periods of their lives in Europe. I recolored them from my own perspective – first in my sketchbook and later in metal and enamel. Their faces became brooches worn on the body – fragments of memory and reflections on the complexity of family heritage, the identity we carry across places, and the ongoing pursuit of a sense of belonging.

Fusion is the way I see the world. Deep within my brain, there is a folder in my mind – a dynamic

archive that collects everything: a piece of nature, an old piece of jewelry, experiments with materials.

There is no hierarchy and no sorting; nothing is more or less important. Everything collected or

created holds equal value.

My creative process as a jeweler is a dive into this dynamic archive – the mixture of materials, textures

and shapes – in search of a momentary point of fusion within a new piece. Then comes the return

inward, back into the ever-changing, ever-renewing repository. To me, everything is jewelry. To me,

everything is jewelry.

The circle shown here is a tangible reflection of this inner archive.

The works arise from a charged daily reality in which I live and create, where helplessness, violence, and loss permeate the everyday. For me, the artistic act is an effort to grasp something, suspend a moment, touch the essence, and allow space for reflection.

The objects I create attempt to process a shifting reality without stable grounding. The body serves as a creative medium – a tool for action and testimony, a place where time accumulates and leaves traces. Some works carry marks of past actions, while others hold movements still unfolding. At times they are violent or require surrender, and at others they offer quiet space for contemplation.

The Moses-in-the-Basket Project is an ongoing body of work that began in 2020, through which I pour

my family story into objects intended to be passed on to my children.

These two spoons continue the series currently on display at the Eretz Israel Museum. They are

designed for only a small amount of food – a “pinch,” a “touch,” a “final lick” – and are dedicated to my

parents.

Created during a time of war that brought displacement and hunger, the spoons serve as a reminder

that every person deserves shelter, nourishment, and a place to belong.

The wall pieces SUBTONICA explore the boundaries of bodies in space through material. From flat

brass sheets, rounded three-dimensional forms emerge, attempting to preserve the size and shape of

the original surface from which they arose, even as they push beyond its limits.

Throughout the process, the material’s mass remains unchanged; nothing is added or removed.

Rather, the work investigates a transformation in the material’s state within space.

My creations are born from the meeting point of dream and reality – a fusion point where subconscious images merge with childhood landscapes, where matter becomes memory, and memory takes form.

I draw inspiration from my dreams, where forms of life and sensations exist. Within my dream, I follow those images, creating imaginary beings and realms; returning to familiar desertscapes, gathering materials and traces, deciphering their evolving forms.

Out of them emerges a series of necklaces, manifesting in a space of transition – suspended between worlds, celestial and arid.

The work examines the connection between the body and the earth – as an emotionally charged

material – and the meditative experience created through repetitive action. Through continuous

contact between the body and the material, both a physical and conscious transformation take place:

skin cells merge with the soil, thoughts and emotions are pushed aside, and the void takes shape.

Through the monotonous motions of kneading, pressing, rolling, sanding, and grinding, a spiritual

space emerges – one in which the mud alters the maker’s consciousness, and the maker, in turn,

transforms the material. It becomes charged with new meaning and shaped like a simulated string of

pearls, until the moment of encounter with the water.

A closed circle of temporary creation and disintegration.

The melting point marks a moment of transition, when a solid substance transforms and becomes open  to change. Likewise, Israeli society is undergoing a societal melting point – a shift in its collective state of being. Roots, long symbols of stability and belonging, were uprooted and left exposed to the elements on October 7. Yet from this uprooting transformation emerges: roots growing upward embody a human fusion, where upheaval turns into an opportunity for renewal and growth.

Moments of transition unfold in tension, where forms waver and meaning drifts away. They move between presence and absence, solidity and transparency, stillness and motion. Threads trace fragile landscapes of resilience and quiet strength. In “How Do You Feel Today”, tension hovers – the body reaching for breath, the self seeking ground, questioning the space between belonging and distance: “Do I belong here or there?”. ” Home Sweet Home” becomes a talisman, a place to hold onto memory, seek foundation, and find refuge.

Life, the years, the war – all of these have frozen a fixed expression onto my inner, unseen faces.

The visible ones, those that engage with the world and its inhabitants, reveal a range of emotions: compassion, anger, frustration, amusement, love, tenderness, hardness. These are the expressions others see. But deep within, anxiety in its many forms has etched a single, unchanging expression.

In an effort to break free from this inner stagnation, I’ve spent the past year stamping my face onto rolled silver – creating living masks, and fracturing the uniformity of their expressions.

My works merge realms of nature and industry, softness and hardness. Industrial iron bells undergo a transformation, becoming images of thorns and flowers, where cold metal acquires an organic, living quality. The melting point is the moment of change, when the material loses its original identity and is reborn as a sensitive form, imbued with memory and imagination. In this encounter between pain and beauty, protection and vulnerability, the metallic past and the growing present, emerges the possibility of transforming alienation into vitality, finding delicacy and hope at the heart of rigidity.

https://youtube.com/shorts/BXuX_sw6yJk?si=VZGSzA1esENQM1Q2

As a goldsmith whose art is forging, the melting point is the beating heart of my craft; a moment when the material surrenders to heat, loses its hardness, and allows for a new beginning. In my circular video work, grains of silver are melted into an ingot, from which a forged ring emerges – only to be melted again, fall apart, and begin anew. again. It is an endless cycle of creation, disintegration, and renewal; the cycle of life.

In the deepest moments of closeness, I feel with clarity the distance between us. The delicate paradox of human connection lies in the fact that the very things that connect us – language, gestures, the objects we exchange – are also those that maintain the distance between us.