Ruth Patir: Motherland

Patir has created a richly textured, original body of work in recent years that merges ancient local archaeology with advanced imaging technologies. While her cinematic realm is entirely computer-made, it is anchored in reality and in her lived experience. The exhibition (M)otherland charts a personal saga that began with a medical diagnosis. At 36, Patir discovered that she carries a genetic mutation placing her at high risk for breast and ovarian cancer. As an unmarried woman with vague thoughts about starting a family, she was immediately directed by the medical establishment to undergo fertility preservation treatments for a potential future pregnancy. And so, the artist found herself on two intersecting paths: one, involving checkups and monitoring, aimed at protecting her health; the other, painful and invasive, treated her as a mere vessel for childbearing.

Patir decided that she would face the confusing new reality into which she had been thrust by documenting everything. Across a series of video works, she leads us through her journey: from the first patient interviews with her doctors; through the waiting room of a fertility clinic, where patients stare absently at their phones or at a television screen broadcasting live news; to the central work, (M)otherland, which weaves together two years of footage, including a routine of hormone injections and rounds of egg retrieval. The result is a funny, moving, at times painfully revealing diary. Patir uses ancient fertility figurines—small, enigmatic terracotta sculptures of women from the First Temple period—as avatars for herself and the women around her. Through motion capture technology, she animates the figurines as contemporary women grappling with their desires while confronting social norms and the expectations of others.

What initially appears as a deeply personal predicament soon takes on much broader implications. The treatments that Patir undergoes are state-funded; while this provides her with financial relief, she is disturbed by the recognition that the state has a stake in her potential pregnancy. Doubts soon follow: Does she even want to be a mother? Is it at all possible to not be one in a society that sanctifies motherhood?

The exhibition ends with a work created in the aftermath of October 7, as Patir’s personal story becomes part of a collective narrative of a shattered present. In the video Keening she resurrects the ancient figurines—some whole and others broken—into a procession of mourning, rage, and protest on the streets of Tel Aviv. Then as now, they embody the burdens of the female body, channeling the anxieties and hopes of women across time.

The project was created for the Israeli Pavilion at the 60th International Art Exhibition at the Venice Biennale, which remained closed. The project now debuts at the Tel Aviv Museum of Art.