Kikar Dizengoff at Sunset

The feeling of war in Tel Aviv is heavy, even though the city hasn’t been directly affected like the north and south. The hearts and minds of Tel Aviv’s people are constantly with the hostages. You can feel that in every corner of the city.

At the heart of Tel Aviv is Dizengoff Square, a central meeting place where people gather day and night. After the war began, something powerful started happening at the fountain there. Organically, people began adding stickers to the outside of the fountain, memorializing fallen soldiers and those they had lost. Soon, photos of loved ones appeared, surrounded by yahrzeit candles, poppies, and flowers. And then, most heartbreakingly, small teddy bears were placed, representing the children being held hostage.

I knew I wanted to paint something that captured the pain my friends in Tel Aviv were feeling—and that all of us were feeling. But I often struggle to paint cityscapes that still feel classical, which made this a challenge. I went back to the fountain again and again, watching how the light changed and searching for the right time of day when the scene felt most compelling.

What moves me most about this impromptu monument isn’t just its visual impact but what it says about the spirit of Tel Aviv. This wasn’t organized by the city or any formal group. It was created by the people of Tel Aviv themselves, coming together to grieve and mourn publicly.

Grieving is one of the great strengths of the Jewish people—it’s something we know how to do, not just as individuals but as a community. This fountain, with its photos, candles, and teddy bears, stands as a testament to that collective resilience and care.