עֲמֹרָ֖ה

Gomorrah

Gomorrah (from Leftovers), 2023-4
Digital Collage, 275 cm x 220 cm

The destruction of cities is a recurring and cyclical phenomenon, a ritual that has accompanied human history since its inception. At times, it manifests as an act of blind annihilation, and at other times as a harsh response to an unforgivable deed. Acts of devastation bridge the total destructive power of humanity with the natural urge of nations to close the circle of justice and vengeance. This concept is already present in the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, where destruction served as retribution for the moral corruption of their inhabitants. Fire and brimstone raining from the heavens not only annihilated the cities but also established the historical archetype of total obliteration.

In the ancient world, the echo of destruction continued, leaving traces of cycles of violence and revenge. Carthage was obliterated by Rome in 146 BCE. It was not enough to kill most of its inhabitants; according to some sources, its land was plowed and sown with salt, as if Rome sought to erase its memory not only from the world but from the earth itself. In 480 BCE, Athens was destroyed by the Persians—an act of vengeance and a statement of total domination.

In the modern era, technology has given destruction new forms. World War II transformed the scale of urban devastation. Germany and Japan, as the initial aggressors, bore the brunt of the Allies’ total response: Dresden, Nuremberg, Cologne, Hamburg, Tokyo, Hiroshima, Nagasaki—cities whose large portions were entirely erased. After the massacre of October 7th, as part of the war against Hamas, Israel exacted a similar toll on cities in the Gaza Strip. The ruined cities remain as silent witnesses to unresolved questions: How necessary is destruction? Where are its boundaries? And what is the human cost of such widespread devastation?

The work Gomorrah is neither judgmental nor does it grapple with these questions, but rather with the space left behind—the leftovers, the shattered fragments that will never return to their place. Gomorrah by Ittai Bar-Joseph is a city of broken memories, disintegrated and transformed into a new, impossible landscape. The shards of buildings create a new spatial map—a city that does not exist, yet is present; a city that has been forgotten, yet refuses to disappear. Within this destruction, a strange, almost cosmic fabric emerges, where the ruins generate new meaning: an aesthetics of collapse, a poetry of ruins, and a place where the past remains suspended between oblivion and reverberation.