“When Rabin was assassinated on November 4, 1995, I felt that a page in modern Israeli history had been turned. I’ve always found this part of the world to be… like a volcano. […] It has a very great symbolic force for different reasons. First, it is really a collision between a Westernised society and the East. This small territory is also the birthplace of the three monotheistic religions, Judaism, Christianity and Islam. […]

In this context, the problem for the artist, the filmmaker, the writer, is knowing what to do when living near a volcano. What artistic form can we offer? […] Some people want you to be very politically correct, they refuse to be contradicted and that forces you to be very strict, I would even say harshness, so as not to agree to submit to a position of compromise. […]

We decided to do this project on the murder of Rabin as a kind of remembrance gesture, and with the hope that sometimes when you resuscitate the memory it might cause movement. We must be modest: art is not the most effective way to change reality. […] But sometimes art acts late because it retains the memory that power would like to erase, it calls for obedience and does not want to be disturbed, it does not want dissent. But if artists remain true to their inner truth, they produce work that travels through time, which does not always have an immediate impact, which sometimes acts late. I hope that is what we are doing with this multifaceted presentation – film, exhibitions, play – on the Yitzhak Rabin assassination. […]

It also speaks of the degradation of memory. There is an event and then the different stages of the degradation of this event. […] Our own interpretation is only partial. Visitors can make their own interpretation and they are legitimate performers, not mere consumers of the artist’s work.”

Amos Gitaï, June 2016