New Horizons and Yossef Zaritsky

New Horizons & Yossef Zaritsky: Israeli Art Revolution

The Israeli Art Version of Lyrical Abstraction

“There is no point nor value in talking about Israeliness in painting. It should be felt, whether you think it or not. There is no point in artificially ‘making’ Israeliness.” By unknown

A significant turning point in Israeli art came with the formation of the artistic group New Horizons. Curiously, this happened in 1948, the same year Israel declared independence. The circumstances of the group’s formation are full of intrigue and drama. Still, I’ll keep that story for later because it’s more important first to acknowledge and appreciate the essence of the group’s creative force and influence on Israeli art that came ever after.

New Horizons offered a direction, a promise, a door to a new world. Although no stylistic or ideological common denominator existed for all its members’ works, there was a shared desire to avoid an explicit representation of reality. The group was formed when Israeli art’s narrative moved from expressions of the collective Zionist ethos to a person’s individual artistic experience. It reflected the struggle between the social art camp and its rivals who advocated art for art’s sake and between the localists and those looking outward toward the universal.

Lyrical Abstraction: Art at the Edge of Memory

New Horizons’ primary artistic language was Lyrical Abstraction—an Israeli adaptation of an abstract painting style that had already taken root in Europe and the United States. However, in its Israeli context, this style often began with a figurative subject, which was then deconstructed into abstraction. Even as artists dismantled their subjects, a trace of representation always lingered beneath the surface.

What is Lyrical Abstract?

Some art historians believe that this style reflects the Israeli state of mind during its formative years—a nation emerging from the shadows of the Holocaust and the War of Independence. It was as if the art itself whispered: forget, suppress the past, erase, blur, and push forward. A collective movement toward shaping a new Israeli identity—the Sabra, named after the prickly pear cactus—thorny and prickly on the outside, yet tender, sweet, and full of life within.

Yossef Zaritsky: The Force Behind the Movement

At the heart of New Horizons stood Yossef Zaritsky—a magnetic figure, not just due to his talent but because of his sheer force of will. He was influenced by Henri Matisse, yet his work had a rhythm entirely its own.

Zaritsky’s paintings can be characterized by their division into multiple sections. Each section features an equal distribution of color density and brush strokes, resulting in a surface that lacks any formal tensions or narrative plot. He begins his color strokes with thin layers, gradually building them into deep, dense, and opaque paint. The paintings exude a sense of dynamism and musicality.

Light plays a crucial role in Zaritsky’s works, as he skillfully creates vibrant contrasts between dark and light areas. These contrasts contribute to the overall visual impact of the paintings. Additionally, the untouched white portions of the canvas add a touch of poetic tenderness to his compositions.

His “Yehiam – Life on the Kibbutz” series (1949-1951) is perhaps his most compelling achievement. Following a seminar at Kibbutz Yehiam, a newly formed settlement in the Western Galilee, Zaritsky returned to paint its landscapes. But his focus was not on realism—it was on the spirit of the place. His color palette, dominated by blues and greens, captures a fragile balance: man’s encroachment onto nature, and nature’s quiet resistance.

Art, Power, and the Venice Biennale

The formation of the group had its roots in the assertive nature of a charismatic and opinionated individual who sought control and influence. It is important to note that discerning the absolute truth can be challenging, as narratives often reflect the writer’s perspective rather than the complete story. Nevertheless, the following account, as shared by Yossef Zaritsky, provides an interesting narrative.

After World War II, Italy decided to revive the Venice Biennale, a renowned international art exhibition. Given Zaritsky’s affiliation with the Painters’ Association, he received a call informing him that the Italians were willing to grant Israeli artists representation in the exhibition. They had space for eight painters and one sculptor. However, there was a pressing issue at hand – the ship scheduled to transport the artworks was docked at the port and ready to depart for Italy. Consequently, the selection process had to be expedited.

In response to this urgency, Zaritsky took the initiative. Rather than waiting for the Association’s formal meeting, he gathered a group of painters who shared a common artistic language. Together, they swiftly prepared a prospectus and secured participation in the exhibition in Italy. Remarkably, all of this unfolded just one week before the establishment of the State of Israel.

There was no process of external judgment or dimension of public transparency but a powerful and undemocratic act whose main objective, some say, was self-promotion. When it became known to the rest of the Painters’ Association, they held an assembly and decided to expel Zaritsky. The painters who participated in the exhibition chose not to leave Zaritsky alone and went with him. This group established New Horizons; it included Yehezkel Streichman, Avigdor Stematsky, Marcel Yanko, and Moshe Castel.

Personal Reflection: The Eye That Sees

There is a reason I included photos of my mother visiting an art museum in this piece about New Horizons and Yossef Zaritsky. If I have any eye for art, any ability to stand before a painting and feel its weight, it started with her.

She was the one who introduced me to the world of art—not as an academic pursuit but as a way of seeing. I remember walking through galleries, watching how she would tilt her head at a canvas, as if listening for something only she could hear. She never explained what she saw—she let me find my own way into it.

Perhaps that’s what art is supposed to do. Not dictate, but invite. Not explain, but stir something unnamed. New Horizons was more than a group of painters—it was a movement that invited Israeli art to step into a wider world, to exist in conversation with what came before and what was yet to come. And, in a way, isn’t that the legacy of all great art?

To offer a door, a challenge, a way forward.

More about Early Israeli Art

May 2020