MEMORY FOR DENIAL

"in order for me to write poetry that isn’tpolitical, I must listen to the birdsand in order to hear the birdsthe warplanes must be silent"The poem "Lines Without a Home", read by Ines Gobetti, is part of the collection "Il loro grido è la mia voce. Poesie da Gaza", Fazi Editore 2025.Marwan Makhoul was born to a Palestinian father and a Lebanese mother in 1979 in the village of Boquai'a in the Upper Galilee region of Palestine. He currently lives in the village of Maalot Tarshiha. He has published several works of poetry, including ‘Hunter of Daffodils’, ‘Land of the Sad Passiflora’, ‘Verses The Poems Forgot With Me’, ‘Where is my Mom?’ and ‘A Letter From The Last Man’. His poems have won several awards and appeared worldwide in Arabic publications and translated into many languages."Il loro grido è la mia voce"https://fazieditore.it/libro/9791259677587Thank you Ines for this powerful reading!

You can’t see itbut I stared too long at the hillsmy eyes have bruised.It’s on the inside,beneath the skin, in the spotclosest to what they call the soul.The hills are otherworldly and distant,particularly those between Jericho and Amman—from the taxi, they appear as a processionof souls, or like sniperscontemplating the desert road.Everything is in its place,like a mathematical equation:the living on one side,and the dead on the other.But from somewhere on those hills,I imagine the deadwaving to us, tryingto climb down to the highway,where the cars glimmerbefore they vanish into the wind.In the right lane, one truckafter another hauls stonesunder a setting sun, where the windis the one true driver,dragging us behind it, our necksbent backward.I can understand now that everything began here,on this arid, lightless land.Everything that came next was coincidence:trees, rivers, insects, the shapesof clouds and weeds,and suspended bridges.And it is here toothat everything will end, leaving no trace of this worldbut the mystery of how it began.I’m obsessed with the hills.I can’t stop staring at them—like I’m trying to remember where we met before,like their nameis on the tip of my tongue. I try to pull it outfrom a cavernous gorge within me.From my childhood,I’ve believed that if I staredat anything long enough,it would start to move.This, of course, has never happened.But the hills do in fact looklike they’re about to start walking towards me.Just look at the droplets of lightshimmering above them:like a hundred eyes opening at the same instant.My bags are in the trunk,and here,in the hot air of the Jordan Valley,I feel as though what my hands foldedjust moments agowere not my clothesbut crumpled souls,and that what my eyes now watchpassing outside the windoware not the hills,but the ruins of the roads we crossedbefore we arrived in this world—naked, bathed in bruises and blood,and finally ableto scream.Dalia Taha is a Palestinian poet, playwright, and educator. She has published three Arabic poetry books, including "The Biography of the People of the City of R" (2021), "Enter World" (2025). The English translation of her poetry collection "Enter World" (translated by Sara Elkamel) is forthcoming from Graywolf Press in 2026. She lives in Ramallah, Palestine.Image: Birzeit Village, photo by Dalia Taha

Sabrina Amico legge il frammento 342 dal libro "Apeirogon" di Colum McCann, che racconta la preparazione della performance funambolica di Philippe Petit nella Valle dell'Hinnom.Grazie Sabrina!

A collective reading from Tasneem Shatat's book "Archive Out of Coverage" at Spore Initiatives, Berlin, during the Gaza Biennale.Thanks you all for your voices, Thank you Spore, and thank you, Tasneem, for this incredibly powerful project!

ITINERANT HISTORIES OF SOLIDARITY - Part 1Spore Initiative, November 25, 2025A Panel discussion during the opening week of the Gaza Biennale - Berlin Pavilion at Spore Initiative examining the Biennale as a global network of solidarity born in Gaza and expanding across the world. The Gaza Biennale has emerged as a self-organized web of relations dedicated to the amplifying Palestinian voices where dominant frameworks seek to silence them. It is traveling around the world producing Pavilions, or أَجْنِحَة  (wings)From the first event at Spore Initiative, firefly frequencies welcome the voices of he co-founders of the Gaza Biennale, Tasneem Shatat and Ghanem El Den joining from Gaza, and Andreas Ibrahim (Forbidden Museum) joining from the West Bank, in conversation with curator and art historian Angela Harutyunyan. Together, they reflect on the project’s mobilizing force and on what it means to weave a biennale solely from relationships. Thank you so much to all participants!Forbidden Museumhttps://alrisanartmuseum.org/Spore Initiativeshttps://spore-initiative.org/en/Gaza Biennalehttps://gazabiennale.org/

Palestinian Berlin-based artist YA Z AN travels around his hometown of Ramallah where he encounters sounds that comfort and remind him of home. He uses binaural technology to collect audio pieces from the verdant Palestinian landscape and sculpts them with sounds from everyday life to create a complete surround sound experience.Setting off with a ‘oud player singing folklore music during a post-wedding ceremony and followed by a walk to home where family is gathered at a dinner table chit-chatting about food and how it is prepared, the recent events that resulted in the death of martyrs in Palestine and the earthquake that occurred in Syria/Turkey.Progressing through the day, YA Z AN goes down to the city centre farmers market (Al-hisbeh) where a number of street vendors are shouting out the prices of their products.Upon joining friends to hangout, the journey travels further to a jam session when surprisingly the rhythm of the community turns into a small choir.The journey ends with Sufi singer Shadi Al-ahmad intoning his voice in his historical Palestinian home with a cross vault ceiling that accents his baritone.Thank you so mcuh YA Z AN for this piece!And many thanks to Belén Marinato and the Gaza Biennale Berlin Pavilion for introducing us to this work.

Zines from Gaza is an initiative of Coastal Lines Press - a project that gathered over 200 people to layout, design, illustrate and publish the texts of Gazan writers and artists in the form of zines.During the Gaza Biennale they had a presentation and a zine-making workshop. The following recordings are by the authors of their own texts and they are installed at Casino for Social Medicine (Sonnenallee, Berlin) during the Berlin Pavilion.Ahmad El Khuwaja, Someone’s DaughterKhaled Al-Qershali, Breaking into my Home in Gaza CityNour Abou Aisha, I Was Meant for Firewood & But the Tree Embraced MeSamah Zaqqout, When Silence ScreamsShahd Alnaami, One DaySondos Al Saqqa, Aeries TalesShahd Alnaami, Until it passesSondos Al Saqqa, The Heart’s GazeTaqwa Al-Wawi, What the Body RemembersThanks all for these amazing texts and recordings!FOR MORE INFOhttps://www.coastallinespress.com/p/zineshttps://www.instagram.com/zinesfromgaza/

As part of the GAZA BIENNALE BERLIN PAVILLION we present the piece "Al-Shadidah", which is part of Ola Al Shrif's statue of a slingshot. The sound is incorporated in the augmented reality statue to be found in Hermannplatz, Berlin.This work has been developed in collaboration with Berlin-based collective Alternative Monument for Germany who designed the sound piece alongside an augmented reality version of Ola's work. The model for Al-Shadidah has been designed by Diaa Assaf (Burj El Barajneh, Lebanon).The slingshot manifests in public space as a floating, ephemeral structure - its location “to be found,” its trajectory unpredictable - embodying the desire to move beyond fear, beyond walls, beyond imposed limits. The work traces the unsettled geographies of displacement, making absence and hope visible, and transforming survival into collective imagination.The voice you hear is that of Ola explaining the story of how she came up with the idea of the large slingshot. The artist has also shared this story:"During the genocide in Gaza, I was forcibly displaced to Rafah. I often went to the archaeological site of Tel Zaarab, where I could see the other side of the world: Egypt separated from me by nothing but a wall. A wall only 200 meters away, yet farther than any dream. I stood before it in disbelief: How can something made of concrete confine so much life? How can a wall become stronger than fear, time, and memory? In those moments, the border exceeded its geographical meaning. It was not merely a barrier, it became a boundary between survival and the possibility of life. There, amid smoke, noise, and terror, I imagined a giant slingshot, a mythical tool large enough to carry people over the wall into safety. I imagined it lifting us beyond its height, hurling our spirits first, then our bodies, into a place where no sounds of rockets, screams, fear or pain could reach us. I said to my friend, half joking with a wounded seriousness: “Let’s build a Slingshot!  You throw me first, then someone throws you, and we escape this hell.” This humor was real. It was a way to survive. Because imagination there was not a luxury, it was a necessity. Imagination was our only way to carve a door toward life. Many in Gaza dreamt of crossing. But the wall was not the only obstacle… Above it, stood the price of survival, an enormous sum that took the path out of the hands of the poor and left them beneath the planes, waiting. “Shadidah” is not merely an object. It is a distilled metaphor for the desire to escape the impossible, an attempt to turn despair into action, fear into form, and borders into a point of departure. It stands as a monument to collective imagination: to bodies that could not take flight, to desires that found no passage, and to a stubborn hope still trying to pierce the wall. It is the inheritance of those who dreamed of leaving, but the world did not allow them. Yet despite everything they imagined a way."Ola Al Shrif (b. in 1996, Gaza, Displaced in Abu Dhabi)Ola Al Shrif's work has been profoundly impacted by the war in Gaza, during which she lost many of her artworks. Through the years, she has been creating an inventory of feelings based on her experiences of the war. Each feeling is represented by a work, while each work takes surprising material form. When words fail, when international law fails, it seems reality is up for grabs. What happens to the body within the act of resistance? In other words, how does the body experience and enact resistance? During the war, the people of Gaza have been forced to rethink so many basic and fundamental aspects of human life. From the body’s relationship to water, to the unimaginable sound of F-16s overhead and the never-ceasing sound of drones, when one’s relationship to our senses shifts in such a way, the elements of everyday life become monumental moments. Al Shrif’s aesthetic interventions allow us to experience the ‘invisible’ realities hidden in everyday life as if they were as clear as day. There is no such thing as an object outside of the vitality of life. Here, art reaches an essence: what appears to be an everyday object, separate from our body and our life, is transformed into an expression of the vital force of life. ADfD (Alternative Monument for Germany) seeks forms that connect migration experiences and public memory culture. As a result of the current toxic discourse on migration in Germany, they feel an urgent need to connect and counteract in order to establish a positive frame for migration discourse and counter current xenophobic movements. They approach migration in its potential to weave spaces and memories into an inclusive, collective space. A safe space created and maintained by diverse, evolving communities. Their focus is on queer feminist voices as these have long been silenced.This raises the question: What might a monument commemorating migration look like? In what ways can memories of migration be shared and preserved? What significance can a collective approach have in expanding public space remembrance culture? What role can emerging digital formats play in this contextFor more info see website: https://adfd.info/GAZA BIENNALE BERLIN PAVILLION, November 21 to December 21, 2025Exhibitions: Flutgraben, Khan Aljanub, AGIT, MBCPublic programs: Galerie & Atelier Arabisk, Casino for Social Medicine, Spore Initiative, and KM28The Gaza Biennale, an art project rooted in displacement, scatters like seeds around the world to create new hybrids. Through repetition and reproduction, artworks survive the destruction of a genocidal war machine and reappear by virtue of partnerships in different parts of the world. Transcending territory, the Gaza Biennale expands through a human topography that cannot possibly be besieged.Defying genocide, Gazan artists have continued creating, resisting seemingly endless displacements, bombardments, and forced starvation through their art. Initiated in partnership with the Al Risan Art Museum (Forbidden Museum) in the West Bank, the Gaza Biennale sends their message out into the world.Arriving in Berlin on November 21, 2025, the Berlin Pavilion will open across different venues in the city to show the works of over thirty artists. It unfolds with exhibitions at sites including Flutgraben, Agit, and Khan Aljanub, and with programs hosted at Galerie & Atelier Arabisk, Casino for Social Medicine, Spore Initiative, and KM28, as well as around the streets of Berlin.With a collaboratively curated public program, it invites people of all ages and backgrounds to join in these gatherings to practice listening, healing, and mourning; to share joy and sorrow; and to cultivate a communal strength that will ultimately be the key to dismantling oppressive systems based on fragmentation and extractivism—structural relics that lie at the root of the occupation of Palestine and colonial violence worldwide.The Berlin Pavilion seeks not to become a static exhibition but an evolving platform that continuously initiates its own actions. Refusing to lament the failure of official infrastructures, the Berlin Pavilion builds a new one: an infrastructure made from and by the community, small in its constituent parts, but endlessly expansive in its unity.

As part of the GAZA BIENNALE BERLIN PAVILLION we present Siraj Shawa's "Nazeh: When Displacement Learns to Sway"Siraj Shawa is an electronic music producer and beat box artist, born in Gaza in 1993.GAZA BIENNALE BERLIN PAVILLION, November 21 to December 21, 2025Exhibitions: Flutgraben, Khan Aljanub, AGIT, MBCPublic programs: Galerie & Atelier Arabisk, Casino for Social Medicine, Spore Initiative, and KM28The Gaza Biennale, an art project rooted in displacement, scatters like seeds around the world to create new hybrids. Through repetition and reproduction, artworks survive the destruction of a genocidal war machine and reappear by virtue of partnerships in different parts of the world. Transcending territory, the Gaza Biennale expands through a human topography that cannot possibly be besieged.Defying genocide, Gazan artists have continued creating, resisting seemingly endless displacements, bombardments, and forced starvation through their art. Initiated in partnership with the Al Risan Art Museum (Forbidden Museum) in the West Bank, the Gaza Biennale sends their message out into the world.Arriving in Berlin on November 21, 2025, the Berlin Pavilion will open across different venues in the city to show the works of over thirty artists. It unfolds with exhibitions at sites including Flutgraben, Agit, and Khan Aljanub, and with programs hosted at Galerie & Atelier Arabisk, Casino for Social Medicine, Spore Initiative, and KM28, as well as around the streets of Berlin.With a collaboratively curated public program, it invites people of all ages and backgrounds to join in these gatherings to practice listening, healing, and mourning; to share joy and sorrow; and to cultivate a communal strength that will ultimately be the key to dismantling oppressive systems based on fragmentation and extractivism—structural relics that lie at the root of the occupation of Palestine and colonial violence worldwide.The Berlin Pavilion seeks not to become a static exhibition but an evolving platform that continuously initiates its own actions. Refusing to lament the failure of official infrastructures, the Berlin Pavilion builds a new one: an infrastructure made from and by the community, small in its constituent parts, but endlessly expansive in its unity.

As part of the GAZA BIENNALE BERLIN PAVILLION we present six poems by Palestinian artist Jehad Jarbou (in Arabic).Sky and FingersWhen you begin to wrap a piece of thread around your fingers,It reveals the direction of the wind.Where are you?Words begin to soar with the breeze, rising into the sky.You speak to those who cannot hear,Who cannot read,Who cannot see.You are speaking to yourself.You start scattering words among the clouds:To my father,To my brother Hassan,To all the friends in heaven.And we are still suspended between sky and earth.The sound of the airplane still terrifies me.I’m still disturbed by the war.I’m still afraid.Eight months have passed,And I still haven’t found myself.To read the full texts in EnglishDOWNLOAD PDFJehad Jarbou (b. in 1999, Gaza, Displaced in Khan Younis)Jehad Jarbou is a visual artist. her practice explores the borders related to Gaza as a "prison within a prison.” She is interested in evoking and narrating concepts related to identity, borders, memory, ten miles, and structures through her art. Jihad uses contemporary art as a tool to address these themes, including video art, conceptual photography, and written reflections.GAZA BIENNALE BERLIN PAVILLION, November 21 to December 21, 2025Exhibitions: Flutgraben, Khan Aljanub, AGIT, MBCPublic programs: Galerie & Atelier Arabisk, Casino for Social Medicine, Spore Initiative, and KM28The Gaza Biennale, an art project rooted in displacement, scatters like seeds around the world to create new hybrids. Through repetition and reproduction, artworks survive the destruction of a genocidal war machine and reappear by virtue of partnerships in different parts of the world. Transcending territory, the Gaza Biennale expands through a human topography that cannot possibly be besieged.Defying genocide, Gazan artists have continued creating, resisting seemingly endless displacements, bombardments, and forced starvation through their art. Initiated in partnership with the Al Risan Art Museum (Forbidden Museum) in the West Bank, the Gaza Biennale sends their message out into the world.Arriving in Berlin on November 21, 2025, the Berlin Pavilion will open across different venues in the city to show the works of over thirty artists. It unfolds with exhibitions at sites including Flutgraben, Agit, and Khan Aljanub, and with programs hosted at Galerie & Atelier Arabisk, Casino for Social Medicine, Spore Initiative, and KM28, as well as around the streets of Berlin.With a collaboratively curated public program, it invites people of all ages and backgrounds to join in these gatherings to practice listening, healing, and mourning; to share joy and sorrow; and to cultivate a communal strength that will ultimately be the key to dismantling oppressive systems based on fragmentation and extractivism—structural relics that lie at the root of the occupation of Palestine and colonial violence worldwide.The Berlin Pavilion seeks not to become a static exhibition but an evolving platform that continuously initiates its own actions. Refusing to lament the failure of official infrastructures, the Berlin Pavilion builds a new one: an infrastructure made from and by the community, small in its constituent parts, but endlessly expansive in its unity.

As part of the GAZA BIENNALE BERLIN PAVILLION we present Aya Juha's "Testimony" (in Arabic and English). In this recording the artist recounts the way Israeli's tanks surrounded their home and fired shells at their house, and some of her relatives were martyred.Aya Juha (b. in 1991, Gaza, displaced in North Gaza)Aya Juha’s work has long sought to find some meaning from the relentless suffering of Palestinians subjected to imprisonment, torture, and martyrdom. How does the experience of an individual reflect and connect to the collective struggle? What does it mean to claim ownership of a body when Palestinians are subjected to what amounts to out-of-body, inhumane treatment? In this context, the body exists in fragments. Do we assume it to be whole if we are not free? Juha sets out to document a body in fragments. By symbolizing pain and unbelievable hardships, she evokes a collective sense of belonging and purpose. Individual lives, fragmented from each other, become a collective experience. GAZA BIENNALE BERLIN PAVILLION, November 21 to December 21, 2025Exhibitions: Flutgraben, Khan Aljanub, AGIT, MBCPublic programs: Galerie & Atelier Arabisk, Casino for Social Medicine, Spore Initiative, and KM28The Gaza Biennale, an art project rooted in displacement, scatters like seeds around the world to create new hybrids. Through repetition and reproduction, artworks survive the destruction of a genocidal war machine and reappear by virtue of partnerships in different parts of the world. Transcending territory, the Gaza Biennale expands through a human topography that cannot possibly be besieged.Defying genocide, Gazan artists have continued creating, resisting seemingly endless displacements, bombardments, and forced starvation through their art. Initiated in partnership with the Al Risan Art Museum (Forbidden Museum) in the West Bank, the Gaza Biennale sends their message out into the world.Arriving in Berlin on November 21, 2025, the Berlin Pavilion will open across different venues in the city to show the works of over thirty artists. It unfolds with exhibitions at sites including Flutgraben, Agit, and Khan Aljanub, and with programs hosted at Galerie & Atelier Arabisk, Casino for Social Medicine, Spore Initiative, and KM28, as well as around the streets of Berlin.With a collaboratively curated public program, it invites people of all ages and backgrounds to join in these gatherings to practice listening, healing, and mourning; to share joy and sorrow; and to cultivate a communal strength that will ultimately be the key to dismantling oppressive systems based on fragmentation and extractivism—structural relics that lie at the root of the occupation of Palestine and colonial violence worldwide.The Berlin Pavilion seeks not to become a static exhibition but an evolving platform that continuously initiates its own actions. Refusing to lament the failure of official infrastructures, the Berlin Pavilion builds a new one: an infrastructure made from and by the community, small in its constituent parts, but endlessly expansive in its unity.

As part of the GAZA BIENNALE BERLIN PAVILLION we present a short extract of the sound of Khaled Hussein's installation "I Miss You Deeply". The sculptures at the center of his installation speak to Palestinian "sumud" (steadfastness) in the face of genocide. The artist creates his sculptures with clay made from mud - an impermanent material also used for making stoves and fire pits. His process is not complete when he finishes his sculptures. Instead, the documentation of the creation, destruction and recreation of the sculptures continues in a neverending process of indefinite dimensions. "I Miss You Deeply" is Khaled Hussein’s response to the loss of his home, studio and workspace after Israeli bombings. He explains:"My research continues to investigate the state of loss, forming a completely new condition different from previous experience. Using clay, which is easy to shape and recycle, I express the suffering of the displaced, the fragility of the soul and body, and the loss of one’s surroundings."Khaled Hussein (b. 1975 in Rafah; displaced in Gaza)Khaled Huseyin’s work is a profound formal and emotional intervention. We are dealing here with the emotional essence of art, the life of forms, and the relationship between the body and traditions in sculpture. Huseyin’s investigation began as a response to the Great March of Return (2018 to 2019), demonstrations that resulted in an overwhelming number of amputations. His work delved into the physical and psychological experiences of amputees, and its effects within society and within their families. Sculptures of body parts took on an entirely different significance in this context. Artistic form seemed to hold in it not so much representations of forms of life, but of absence, loss, alienation, and escape. The evolution of Khaled Huseyin’s work took an even more remarkable turn in the face of the horrors of this war. An evolution that cuts to the bone of art itself. What is there to cherish in art amidst total brutality? How can art exist during or in the wake of genocide? The intensity of these questions and the impossibility of assimilating this reality have resulted in the invention of an immaterial sculptural form.GAZA BIENNALE BERLIN PAVILLION, November 21 to December 21, 2025Exhibitions: Flutgraben, Khan Aljanub, AGIT, MBCPublic programs: Galerie & Atelier Arabisk, Casino for Social Medicine, Spore Initiative, and KM28The Gaza Biennale, an art project rooted in displacement, scatters like seeds around the world to create new hybrids. Through repetition and reproduction, artworks survive the destruction of a genocidal war machine and reappear by virtue of partnerships in different parts of the world. Transcending territory, the Gaza Biennale expands through a human topography that cannot possibly be besieged.Defying genocide, Gazan artists have continued creating, resisting seemingly endless displacements, bombardments, and forced starvation through their art. Initiated in partnership with the Al Risan Art Museum (Forbidden Museum) in the West Bank, the Gaza Biennale sends their message out into the world.Arriving in Berlin on November 21, 2025, the Berlin Pavilion will open across different venues in the city to show the works of over thirty artists. It unfolds with exhibitions at sites including Flutgraben, Agit, and Khan Aljanub, and with programs hosted at Galerie & Atelier Arabisk, Casino for Social Medicine, Spore Initiative, and KM28, as well as around the streets of Berlin.With a collaboratively curated public program, it invites people of all ages and backgrounds to join in these gatherings to practice listening, healing, and mourning; to share joy and sorrow; and to cultivate a communal strength that will ultimately be the key to dismantling oppressive systems based on fragmentation and extractivism—structural relics that lie at the root of the occupation of Palestine and colonial violence worldwide.The Berlin Pavilion seeks not to become a static exhibition but an evolving platform that continuously initiates its own actions. Refusing to lament the failure of official infrastructures, the Berlin Pavilion builds a new one: an infrastructure made from and by the community, small in its constituent parts, but endlessly expansive in its unity.

As part of the GAZA BIENNALE BERLIN PAVILLION we present Hala Eid Alnaji's "Return" (in English and Arabic). In this powerful recording, the artist recounts her family’s history of displacement tracing back the thread of loss from her exile through Gaza and to the Nakba."Return" is part of the installation "Nazeh’s Lexicon: The Language of Displacement".Hala Eid Alnaji (b. in 1988 in Gaza, Displaced outside Gaza) is an architect, an artist, and a PhD researcher at the University of Westminster in London. She holds a master’s degree in architecture and two years of advanced research in decolonizing architecture from the Royal Institute of Arts in Stockholm. Hala concluded her curatorial studies at the Curator Lab of Konstfack University-Stockholm. As a curator, Hala spearheaded the curation of the Decolonizing Arts and Counter-speculations exhibition, which took place in the Gaza Strip. Additionally, she serves as a member of the Jurors Committee for the Palestinian Cultural Fund Grants, organized by the Palestinian Ministry of Culture in Ramallah, Palestine. Hala’s professional experience extends across various NGOs and higher education institutions worldwide. She has worked as a researcher with Fargfabriken in Stockholm, as a visiting researcher at the University of Palestine in Gaza, and as a lecturer at the University of Brighton, in the United Kingdom. As a dedicated researcher, Hala has presented and published numerous articles and research papers at conferences throughout Europe and the Middle East. Her first book, "Scatterers in the Shadow", was published in 2022.GAZA BIENNALE BERLIN PAVILLION, November 21 to December 21, 2025Exhibitions: Flutgraben, Khan Aljanub, AGIT, MBCPublic programs: Galerie & Atelier Arabisk, Casino for Social Medicine, Spore Initiative, and KM28The Gaza Biennale, an art project rooted in displacement, scatters like seeds around the world to create new hybrids. Through repetition and reproduction, artworks survive the destruction of a genocidal war machine and reappear by virtue of partnerships in different parts of the world. Transcending territory, the Gaza Biennale expands through a human topography that cannot possibly be besieged.Defying genocide, Gazan artists have continued creating, resisting seemingly endless displacements, bombardments, and forced starvation through their art. Initiated in partnership with the Al Risan Art Museum (Forbidden Museum) in the West Bank, the Gaza Biennale sends their message out into the world.Arriving in Berlin on November 21, 2025, the Berlin Pavilion will open across different venues in the city to show the works of over thirty artists. It unfolds with exhibitions at sites including Flutgraben, Agit, and Khan Aljanub, and with programs hosted at Galerie & Atelier Arabisk, Casino for Social Medicine, Spore Initiative, and KM28, as well as around the streets of Berlin.With a collaboratively curated public program, it invites people of all ages and backgrounds to join in these gatherings to practice listening, healing, and mourning; to share joy and sorrow; and to cultivate a communal strength that will ultimately be the key to dismantling oppressive systems based on fragmentation and extractivism—structural relics that lie at the root of the occupation of Palestine and colonial violence worldwide.The Berlin Pavilion seeks not to become a static exhibition but an evolving platform that continuously initiates its own actions. Refusing to lament the failure of official infrastructures, the Berlin Pavilion builds a new one: an infrastructure made from and by the community, small in its constituent parts, but endlessly expansive in its unity.

Maurizia Balmelli reads an extract from her Italian translation of Isabella Hammad's novel Enter Ghost in which a UK-Palestinian theatre actress makes a journey to her homeland and becomes involved in an attempt to stage an Arabic-language production of "Hamlet" in the West-Bank. Thank you so much Maurizia!Free, free Palestine!ABOUT THE BOOKhttps://www.marsilioeditori.it/libri/scheda-libro/2979185/entra-il-fantasmaREAD A CHAPTER IN ENGLISHhttps://www.penguin.co.uk/discover/articles/extract-ghost-isabella-hammad

FID Marseille, Sunday July 13th 2025AGORA : "Palestine as a starting point"What imaginaries, what works, what practices could lead us to produce traces of singularities and force history to change its course? Open discussion among filmmakers and artists (including Narimane Mari, Fatma Chérif, Ghassan Salhab, Carolina Adriazola, José Luis Sepúlveda, Silvia Maglioni, Graeme Thomson, Catherine Libert), students from FID Campusand audience members. The conversation is mainly in French, with some interventions in Arabic and Spanish (translated into French).SOME STRINGS is a collection of unprecedented cinematic gestures. It finds its origin in what stains the screens of History: in Palestine, where poet and professor Refaat Alareer was killed in an Israeli airstrike along with seven members of his family on December 6, 2023.His final poem, IF I MUST DIE, written between earth and sky five weeks before his death, calls for the creation of a kite from bits of string. The kite has become an object of resistance, its strings now held by artists and filmmakers around the world—each offering a perspective on one of the darkest moments of the 21st century.In 2024, FID Marseille unveiled the very first films from this project. Since then, SOME STRINGS has been shown in over 50 countries. This year, the festival presents the complete collection of works created by more than 100 artists and filmmakers from a wide range of geographical, artistic and social backgrounds.Thank you all for the generous participation!MORE on SOME STRINGSRecording, editing and mix: Silvia Maglioni & Graeme Thomson, for firefly frequencies

In this episode we present the soundtrack of Edward Said's 1983 film project Shadow of the West (directed by Geoff Dunlop), in which he draws connections between the oppression and violent displacement of Palestinians and the colonialist West's orientalist dream of controlling the Arab world. A full transcript, with English translations of interviews in Arabic, can be downloaded here:

When the Israeli army invaded Palestine in April 2002, many of the principal towns, including Ramallah, were held under seige. Lawyer and human rights activist Raja Shehadeh’s diary of the time, published as When the Bulbul Stopped Singing, vividly portrays the feelings of terror and powerlessness he and others experienced during this violent incursion into their homeland. In this extract from the diary, read by Laura Strack, Shehadeh writes of his worries about his brother’s young family as they are illegally held hostage in their own home by a group of Israeli soldiers. Thanks to Laura for this impassioned reading

Chiara Guidi interpreta per firefly frequencies il testo di Darwish scritto in memoria di Edward Said.Cofondatrice della Compagnia SOCIETAS, Chiara Guidi sviluppa una personale ricerca sulla voce come chiave drammaturgica nel dischiudere suono e senso di un testo.Grazie infinite, Chiara!Tratto da Mahmud Darwish, "Come fiori di mandorlo o più lontano", trad. it. di Chirine Haidar, Epoché, Milano 2010See English translationhttps://mondediplo.com/Counterpoint

La questione palestinese è una delle lotte politiche a cui Deleuze si dedicò con maggior ardore. L’impegno del filosofo francese è rappresentato principalmente da quattro interventi raccolti in "Due regimi di folli": "I seccatori" (1978), "Gli indiani di Palestina" (1982), "Grandezza di Yasser Arafat" (1983), "Le pietre" (1984). Chiara Guidi, cofondatrice della compagnia teatrale Socìetas Raffaello Sanzio, legge per firefly frequencies il testo "I seccatori".Thanks a lot Chiara!Image: Emily Jacir - “Memorial to 418 Palestinian Villages which were Destroyed, Depopulated and Occupied by Israel in 1948” (refugee tent and embroidery thread), 2000."Les gêneurs" è comparso per la prima volta su Le Monde il 7 aprile 1978.READ THE ENGLISH TRANSLATION "Spoilers of Peace" in "Two Regimes of Madness"herehttps://pages.memoryoftheworld.org/library/Gilles%20Deleuze/Two%20Regimes%20of%20Madness_%20Texts%20and%20Interviews%201975-1995%20%28373%29/Two%20Regimes%20of%20Madness_%20Texts%20and%20Intervie%20-%20Gilles%20Deleuze.pdf

Palestinian poet Hind Jouda reads her poem A poet in time of war / شاعرة في زمن الحرب:Thank you so much Hind!English translation (by by Ahmed M. Saleh)What does it mean to be a poet in times of war?It means apologizingextensively apologizing to the burnt treesto the nestless birdsto the crushed homesto the long cracks along the streetsto the pale-faced children before and after deathto the faces of every sad or murdered mother What does it mean to be safe in times of war?It means being ashamedof your smileof having warmth of your clean clothesof your idle hours of your yawning of your cup of coffeeof your restful sleepof having loved ones still aliveof having a full stomachof having available waterof having clean waterof being able to showerAnd for incidentally being alive!Oh God,I don’t want to be a poet in times of war.ماذا يعني أن تكون شاعراً في زمن الحرب؟هذا يعني أن تعتذرأن تكثر من الاعتذارللأشجار المحترقةللعصافير التي بلا أعشاشللبيوت المسحوقةلشقوق طويلة في خاصرة الشوارعللأطفال الشاحبين قبل الموت وبعدهولوجه كل أم حزينة أو مقتولة!ماذا يعني أن تكون آمنا في زمن الحرب؟يعني أن تخجلمن ابتسامتكمن دفئكمن ثيابك النظيفةمن ساعات ملَلِكَمن تثاؤبكمن فنجان قهوتكمن أحبائك الأحياءمن شبعكمن الماء المتاحمن الماء النظيفمن قدرتك على الاستحمامومن المصادفة بأنك ما زلت حيّاًHind Jouda was born in Al-Breij Refugee Camp, Gaza. She published two collections of poems entitled “Someone always leaves” and “No sugar in the city.”Read more poems by Hind Jouda from the Ecoversities poetry collectionhttps://ecoversities.org/poems-by-hind-jouda/

Rafeef Ziadah recites the poem "If I Must Die" by Refaat Alareer who was killed in an airstrike by the Israeli military December 6, 2023, along with his brother, his brother's son, his sister and her three children. This poem written to his daughter in 2011 was published five weeks before his murder. Collective project SOME STRINGSFilmmakers and artists from around the world have formed SOME STRINGS, an ensemble of unreleased filmic gestures that is rooted in Palestine, where poet and teacher Refaat Alareer was assassinated. In his poem, "If I Must Die", published five weeks before his murder, Refaat Alareer calls those who should live to create a kite - a long-standing object of resistance - with bits of string and Some Strings, just like each of his readers, receives it as a legacy.The kites here are a diversity of views that share a space against the silences, international indifference and continued approval of states, which are already fabricating memorial confusions about the greatest civilian massacre of the 21st century. The systematic extermination of the Palestinian people on Palestinian soil is taking place before our very eyes, and international diplomacy is failing to prevent war crimes, crimes against humanity and genocidal actions.https://some-strings.org/فال بد أن تعيش أنت رفعت العرعيرإذا كان لا بد أن أموت فال بد أن تعيش أنت لتروي حكايتيلتبيع أشيائيوتشتري قطعة قماش وخيوطا(فلتكن بيضاء وبذيل طويل) كي يبصر طفل في مكان ما من ّغّزة وهو يح ّّدق في السماء منتظرًاً أباه الذي رحل فجأة دون أن يودع أحدًاً وال حتى لحمه أو ذاتهيبصر الطائرة الورقّية طائرتي الورقية التي صنعَتها أنتتحّلق في الأعالي ويظ ّّن للحظة أن هناك مالكًاً يعيد الحبإذا كان لا بد أن أموت فليأ ِِت موتي باألمل فليصبح حكاية

Silvia Maglioni & Graeme Thomson read an extract from the second part of Adania Shibli's novel "Minor Detail", a haunting meditation on war, violence and memory that cuts to the heart of the Palestinian experience of dispossession, life under occupation, and the persistent difficulty of piecing together a narrative in the face of ongoing erasure and disempowerment.This reading was originally conceived as part of Radio Al-Hara's 24 Hours Palestine.Translation from Arabic: Elisabeth JaquetteVoices: Graeme Thomson & Silvia Maglioni

A mix by our comrades from Radio Tropiezo / Crater Invertido from Mexico City, originally created for Radio Al-Hara’s 24 Hours Palestine broadcast.Thank you so much Radio Tropiezo!RADIO TROPIEZOhttps://radiotropiezo.org/RADIO AL-HARAhttps://www.radioalhara.net/24 HOURS PALESTINEhttps://soundcloud.com/24hrs-palestine

Asmaa Azaizeh is a Palestinian poet and interdisciplinary artist. She was born in 1985 in the village of Daburieh. For firefly frequencies artist Caterina Giansiracusa reads the Italian translation of her poem "The Eye of the Blackbird".Thank you Caterina!Here is the original version in Arabic:عين الشحرور بعد قليلسيسقط قرص حياتي في حضني لن يحدث الكثير بعد ذلك الّذين تمنّيتُ لقاءهم ماتواالبلد الّذي حلمتُ بهصار أغنية رابْ في سيّارةٍ بعيدةالخيول الّتي ربّيتها في صغريعضّت ذراعيولا يبدو أنّها ستفلتها في كلّ الأحوالمحبرتي كبيرةٌولا يبدو بأنّي سأعيش وأفرغهاالقصائد الّتي تمنّيتُ كتابتها زججتُها في كفنهوالأخطبوطات الّتي نتأتْ من ظهريعلّمتُها كيف تتلمّس غيابه أجلس فوق صخرة الشوقوأنتظر أن تنحتني الريحفأصير شحرورًا بعينٍ كبيرةعينٍ كبيرةٍ وعميقةسأرى فيها قرص حياتي الجديدربّما لن أذكر أنّني كنتُ أناوأنّ هذه الشجرةالّتي ستصير بيتيكانت شيئًا غامضًا كأنّه أبي.https://www.asmaa-azaizeh.com/

JEAN GENET QUATRE HEURES À CHATILAby Pharoah ChromiumUNE PHOTOGRAPHIE A DEUX DIMENSIONS… 06:07SAINT GENET À CHATILA 04:42This podcast comes from a 7” vinyl release, a spoken word record with a sonic background.The two tracks are also a continuation of what was initially started with a previous release of Pharoah Chromium named "Gaza: an electro-acoustic collage that tried to capture the intensity of the 2014 war waged in Palestine, a subjective record with political content on historical events.In this case the focus is on the massacres that took place in the refugee camps Sabra and Shatila over the course of three days in September 1982, in Beirut, Lebanon.In an eerie twist of fate, one the most talented and subversive writers of the 20th century happened to be visiting Beirut at the time these gruelling events occured. He was one of the first foreigners to enter the camps and witness the carnage. His text “4 hours in Shatila” is a minutious and poetic account of the war crimes Genet’s eyes encountered and endured for 4 hours that day.The chosen excerpts of the original french text are read by Elli Medeiros, a singer well known for her legendary collaboration with multi-instrumentalist and producer Jacno among many other things, who had the kindness to accept lending her voice to the powerful material.Thank you so much Pharoah Chromium!https://pharoahchromium.bandcamp.com/album/jean-genet-quatre-heures-chatilaRead “4 hours in Shatila” English full text PDF: www.palestine-studies.org/jps/fulltext/38796

Lebanese artist and performer Lina Issa reads "We" by Palestinian poet Ghayath Almahoun,written during the Israeli bombing of Gaza at the end of 2008.(English translation by Catherine Cobham)WEWe, who are strewn about in fragments, whose flesh flies through the air like raindrops, offer our profound apologies to everyone in this civilised world, men, women and children, because we have unintentionally appeared in their peaceful homes without asking permission. We apologise for stamping our severed body parts into their snow-white memory, because we have violated the image of the normal, whole human being in their eyes, because we have had the impertinence to leap suddenly on to news bulletins and the pages of the internet and the press, naked except for our blood and charred remains. We apologise to all those who did not have the courage to look directly at our injuries for fear they would be too horrified, and to those unable to finish their evening meals after they had unexpectedly seen fresh images of us on television. We apologise for the suffering we caused to all who saw us like that, unembellished, with no attempt having been made to put us back together or reassemble our remains before we appeared on their screens. We also apologise to the Israeli soldiers who took the trouble to press the buttons in their aircraft and tanks to blow us to pieces, and we are sorry for how hideous we looked after they aimed their shells and bombs straight at our soft heads, and for the hours they are now going to spend in psychiatrists’ clinics, trying to become human again, like they were before our transformation into repulsive body parts that pursue them whenever they try to sleep. We are the things you have seen on your screens and in the press, and if you made an effort to fit the pieces together, like a jigsaw, you would get a clear picture of us, so clear that you would be unable to do a thing.Thank you so much Lina for your reading!Ghayath Almahounhttps://www.ghayathalmadhoun.com/poetry-in-englishLina Issahttps://dancingontheedge.nl/artists/lina-issa/

Maria Nadotti legge tre passaggi dalla conversazione tra Rüdiger Wischenbart, Jean Genet e Leila Shahid, avvenuta a Vienna il 6 e il 7 dicembre 1983. La conversazione è raccolta nel volume Jean Genet, Palestinesi, trad. it. di Marco Dotti, il Saggiatore, Milano 2024, pp. 205-219. Il testo integraleQuiMaria Nadotti reads three passages (in Italian) from the conversation between Jean Genet, Leila Shahid and Rüdiger Wischenbart, that took place in Vienna on the 6th and 7th December 1983. Thank you so much, Maria!Image from the film Ici et ailleurs, Jean-Luc Godard & Anne-Marie Miéville

WALAChiara Guidi reads the French translation of WALA, by Palestinian poet and activist Susan Abulhawa. The poem evokes and "speaks for" (and with) the thousands of Palestinians, whose lives and livelihoods have been stolen or destroyed by Israel, as they in turn become a source of cheap labor, lining up in long demeaning queues to work in Israel, where they are often exploited and mistreated. It also "speaks for" (and with) all the oppressed people around the world.Thank you Susan, Thank you Chiara!WALA *(Susan Abulhawa) It’s 3 amIn the cattle cageThe line is longAnd thickWith bodiesYou waitA jibneh sandwichWith cucumberIn a plastic bagClutched in your callused laborer’s handYour wife prepared your breakfast and lunchShe was up before youAnd together you prayed a predawn salatShe kissed your face and saidAllah ma’ak ya habibiAllah be with you, my loveYou kiss the faces of your sleeping babiesYou haven’t seen them awake in monthsAnd you wonderHas Walid’s voice begun to crack yet?Have Wijdad’s hips begun to flare?How big was Suraya’s smile when she came homewith her report card?It’s 4 amIn the cattle cageStill, you waitThe line before you is so longAnd behind you now, it is longerFew speakYou’re packed so damn tightThat you hold one another uprightYou see your own fatigueReflected in the weariness etched onThe faces all around youYou look awayPine for a smokeBut who the hell can afford that?You stare at the graffiti beyond theIron bars holding you inWritten just for youWrittenBy zionist settlers sucking the breath from your lungsYou understand the meaningOf their English words“Die Sand Niggers”SometimesYou pine for that, too.It’s 5 amIn the cattle cageThe soldiers arriveThe line loosensYou take one step forwardPropelled by the weight of bodiesBehind youYour jibneh sandwichWith cucumberIn a plastic bagIs crushed.It never survivesIt’s 7 amIn the cattle cageNow is your turnYou produce your papersUnfold and refoldEyes downHeart downYour shoes are down on their luckButYou’re out of the lineFifteen men before you were pulled asideAnd you tried not to lookNot to hear the one beggingDon’t hit meIt’s 7:30 amOn the cattle busYou rideThe country they stole from youSeeds outside your windowAnd you imagineThe man you would have beenThe man you should have beenOut thereRiding the family steedThe thoroughbred mares your grandfatherRaised and nurtured and lovedIn a PalestineUn-rapedUn-stolenIt’s 8 amYou get off the cattle busYour crushed jibneh sandwichWith cucumberIn a plastic bagIn one handYour eyes downHeart downYou put your toolbox down to knockOn the zionist settler’s back doorWhere the help goesButThe zionist settler boss-man yellsWalaMish hon el yom!Not there todayBoy!And all you can do is thank Allah that yourWife and your babies are notThere to hear them call youWala* 'Wala' in this context is similar to the word 'boy' used by slave-owners when addressing their slaves.

A LITANY FOR “ONE LAND”After Audre Lorde(Mosab Abu Toha, from Things You May Find Hidden in My Ear)For those living on the other side,we can see you, we can see the rainwhen it pours on your (our) fields, on your (our) valleys,and when it slides down the roofs of your“modern” houses (built atop our homes).Can you take off your sunglasses and look at us here,see how the rain has flooded our streets,how the children’s umbrellas have been piercedby a prickly downpour on their way to school?The trees you see have been watered with our tears.They bear no fruit.The red roses take their color from our blood.They smell of death.The river that separates us from you is justa mirage you created when you expelled us.It is one land!For those who are standing on the other sideshooting at us, spitting on us,how long can you stand there, fenced by hate?Are you going to keep your black glasses onuntil you’re unable to put them down?Soon, we won’t be here for you to watch.It won’t matter if you blink your eyes or not,if you can stand or not.You won’t cross that riverto take more lands,because you will vanish into your mirage.You can’t build a new colony on our graves.And when we die,our bones will continue to grow,to reach and intertwine with the roots of the oliveand orange trees, to bathe in the sweet Yaffa sea.One day, we will be born again when you’re not there. Because this land knows us. She is our mother.When we die, we’re just resting in her wombuntil the darkness is cleared.For those who are NOT here anymore,We have been here forever.We have been speaking but younever cared to listen.