born in Israel, 1971
lives and works in Givatayim

Efrat Klipshtien works with various materials, none of which are art materials: aluminum foil, plasticine, tires, paper clips. Her new works are made of electrical wires, which she strips, exposing their insides (which are surprisingly colorful and beautiful). They are displayed here as they are hung on walls of factories or garages, but the narrow strings of color sprouting from them endow them with an unexpected aesthetic that stimulates the viewer: almost ornamental objects, on the verge of decorativeness. The illusion of beauty is misleading, of course: a stripped electrical wire portends danger, or at least malfunction. An implicit analogy is created between the ongoing work of removing, peeling and exposing, on the one hand, and a treatment process that also entails peeling off layers of protection, digging and exposing, and is supposed to take care of the "malfunction."

The repetitive manual work, with patience and persistence, prolongs the stay between the dangerous and the beautiful, while the electrical wires (which did not know they were such) represent the dimension of the temptation that exists in what is prohibited and concealed.