I started working on the interactive installation and research project 'i and you', which allows people in Amsterdam to share how they feel, after 7 October. I asked myself whether there could be a way to continue to hear one another amidst extreme violence, suffering, dehumanisation, oppression, injustice, grief and overheated emotions.

I have been researching empathy and the effect of words and images on our (un)empathetic behavior for some time now. I am worried about what is happening in Israel and Palestine, and by how the discussion about what is happening there is being conducted here in the Netherlands. I am worried for the people there, but also for the people here. Worried about how we see one another, about whether we can still hear one another. About the immense discrepancy between the voices of the people and the actions of political leaders – both here and there. About the disillusion, resignation, fury, and desperation this fuels.

The urgency of exploring new ways of listening and sharing has become greater than the unease and vulnerability the attempt to do so involves. I have no answers. This is why I want to create a space, for questions:

I created a telephone booth where people can share their thoughts and feelings anonymously, in an attempt to make a ‘delayed dialogue’ possible. A dialogue in which we can share and listen, but not respond immediately. The voices are stripped of identity or background. Hundreds of people shared their feelings. Anonymously, in the telephone booth. People talked, screamed, whispered, asked and wondered, cried, listened, prayed and were silent.

Since I created the installation in November 2023, the violence in Gaza has escalated enormously. More than 43,391 Palestinians have been murdered by the Israeli army; 1.7 million people have been displaced in the Gaza Strip; 677,000 people are suffering from catastrophic hunger; most of the emergency aid is being stopped at the border by Israel. In January 2024, the International Court of Justice ruled that there is a serious threat of genocide taking place and that Israel must take measures to prevent this genocide. To date, Israel has disregarded this ruling.

With this installation, I am asking myself what my role as an artist is at a time that is causing not only physical, but also cultural wounds; a time that is tearing open and deepening existing traumas. As well as creating new traumas that will cast a shadow over generations. At a time when words are being misused to divide us – and some words are even being banned altogether – I feel the urgency to explore new ways of engaging in a dialogue. Can we really listen to each other, even when we disagree and it hurts? Can an open dialogue help us to be and stay empathic? Is there such a thing as radical empathy? How does that work?


But, I am also only human. Every day the violence continues, my desperation grows. Every day, I struggle with my own emotions, with myself. All I really want to do is scream. Or be silent. It’s getting more and more difficult to keep on seeing the other, to listen, to stay open to dialogue. Nevertheless, we have to keep talking to one another. Because what is the alternative?”

De oorlog in Gaza kan ons niet niet bezighouden – over de installatie ‘Ik en jij’ van Tina Farifteh

Er zijn maar weinig kunstenaars die binnen enkele weken in staat zijn middels een kunstwerk commentaar te leveren op een actuele gebeurtenis, schrijft Maurits de Bruijn. 

De oorlog gaat niet over anderen, maar over ons

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