Maya Bamberger

@mayabamberger

💙 Independent curator 💪🏻 Tom’s mom 🦋 New Haven/NYC ✏️Student, MESAAS, Columbia
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Weeks posts
March 11th: Paz Sher and Maya Bamberger on Sher’s site specific installation, 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚 [𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧] 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚, on view at D. D. D. D. for two more days until Friday, March 27th Shers installations are carefully crafted environments of unstable playful-mess in which systems of objects and spatial gestures interact in cryptic but realized relationships. These experimental encounters transcend linguistic boundaries in order to undermine and precede our shifting surroundings. Maya Bamberger is an independent curator based in New Haven, CT. She approaches curating as a social practice, forming temporary research communities around urgent social and political questions. For questions or inquiries about Sher’s work DM or email us at [email protected] @paz.sher @mayabamberger @dddd.pictures
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1 month ago
Join us on March 11th from 11:30 - 1pm, for a talk between Paz Sher and Maya Bamberger on Sher’s site specific installation, 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚 [𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧] 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚, on view at D. D. D. D. until March 27. Maya Bamberger is an independent curator based in New Haven, CT. She approaches curating as a social practice, forming temporary research communities around urgent social and political questions. Bamberger was previously the curator of RawArt Gallery in Tel Aviv. She spearheaded the Shuttle Project, which supported emerging artists at the beginning of their careers. Recent residencies and fellowships include Residency Unlimited in New York and Triangle Brooklyn in collaboration with Artis. She is currently a graduate student in Middle Eastern Studies at Columbia University in New York City. She holds a Master of Arts in Curating from Zurich University of the Arts and a BA in Art History and Cognitive Science from the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. DM or email us at [email protected] to RSVP @paz.sher @mayabamberger @dddd.pictures
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2 months ago
Our latest conversation piece, “Building Solidarity: Curating and Architecture in Zones of Conflict,” brings curator Maya Bamberger into dialogue with curator and architect Gülistan Kenanoğlu to explore how architecture, as both a spatial and social practice, can expand the field of curating in conflict zones. Focusing on the exhibition Divine Violence / Jin, Jîyan, Azadî (ژن، ژیان، ئازادی), curated by Kenanoğlu at Apexart (September 13 – October 26, 2024), they discuss the challenges of curating in relation to violence and consider strategies for avoiding its reproduction, romanticization, or fetishization — foregrounding instead practices of trust, friendship, and solidarity. @gulistankenanoglu @mayabamberger Read the full piece at postcollapse.art — 📌link in bio. Images:1 & 2: “Building Solidarity: Curating and Architecture in Zones of Conflict”, Public Talk, Gülistan Kenanoğlu and Maya Bamberger, Residency Unlimited, NYC, 1 April 2024 Image 3: “Divine Violence” exhibition, curated by Gülistan Kenanoğlu, Apexart, NYC, 13 Sept - 26 Oct 2024 Image 4: “Expropriation and Displacement, Research Interrupted,” Architectural Installation, SBARCHLAB, Gülistan Kenanoğlu, and Iliada Charalambous, photo by Gülistan Kenanoğlu, BAK, Utrecht, NL, 26-28 July 2024 #PostcollapseArt #CuratorialPractice #ArchitectureInConflict #ContemporaryArt #Solidarity #ArtAndArchitecture #InstitutionalCritique #apexart #apexartnyc #bakbasecamp #residencyunlimited
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3 months ago
היום בבוקר, אחרי שלוש שנים של נסיונות, 13 הגשות, התחלה של תואר שני שני, הרבה דמעות, סוף סוף התקבלתי לדוקטורט בקולומביה ! אני חושבת שזו ההצלחה שעבדתי עליה הכי קשה בחיים שלי, ואני ממש גאה בעצמי ובמשפחה החמודה שעזרה לי. אני הולכת לחקור אוצרות במזרח התיכון. אחלו לי בהצלחה. ועכשיו אני הולכת לחגוג!
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3 months ago
MAIA DUNIEC @maia.duniec In the human fantasy, the grave is a closed space where unresolved materials are buried (kryptē). Yet some of the dead do not remain inside the ground. The power of dead matter within the living body knows no end. Maia Duniec, kryptē #9, 2025, Sculptural setting composed of soil from nine cemeteries, black MDF board, white clay, plastic wrap, gold teeth, wire, paper and limestone Haunting, Edmond de Rothschild Center @edrcenter Closing, 20.2.26 Assistant curator: @adilam_ Photos by @danielhanoch
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3 months ago
״הונטולוגיה זה בטח לא.״ אבי פיטשון לינק לביקורת המלאה בביו התערוכה פתוחה עד ה20.2 במרכז אדמונד דה רוטשילד @adilam_ @layla991 @maia.duniec @aisha.kadry0 @_raghad.sa_ @din_bar_ @ome.per @michaela_winefieldfleishman @galllevinson @malakmnz @edrcenter
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4 months ago
Haunting Edmond de Rothschild Center Video by @edenb.h @michaela_winefieldfleishman @din_bar_ @aisha.kadry0 @maia.duniec @ome.per @layla991 @malakmnz @_raghad.sa_ @galllevinson @edrcenter Closing, 20.2.26 Assistant curator: @adilam_ Lighting design: @odedk Graphic design: @studio_roniverony
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4 months ago
LAILA ABD ELRAZAQ @layla991 Laila Abd Elrazaq, Till Death Do Us Part, 2025, Installation Haunting isn’t about spirits. Certain words refuse to disappear; they keep circulating, detached from their speakers, automated through systems that normalize their repetition. The printer doesn’t summon ghosts — it exposes how language itself becomes one. Each phrase, “Death to the Arabs,” “Death to the Jews,” “Go back to where you came from,” loops endlessly, stripped of intention yet still capable of harm. What returns here isn’t the supernatural, but the mechanical echo of violence that no one wants to own. The machine keeps printing because it doesn’t know how to stop, much like the rhetoric it reproduces. Every line it emits becomes residue, proof of complicity, a record of how easily hate survives once it becomes habit. This is the kind of haunting I recognize: not the unseen, but the overexposed. Haunting, Edmond de Rothschild Center @edrcenter Closing, 20.2.26 Assistant curator: @adilam_ Photos by @danielhanoch
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4 months ago
DIN BAR @din_bar_ Din Bar, Recorder Sail, 2025, Toilet paper and glue, recorder, cotton threads, balsa wood, wicker Din Bar, Doubled kid, 2025, Digitally processed painting Din Bar, Doubled kid, 2025, Toilet paper and glue Din Bar, Angels, 2025, Toilet paper and glue, small branches and dry leaves, putty Haunting, Edmond de Rothschild Center @edrcenter Closing, 20.2.26 Assistant curator: @adilam_ Photos by @danielhanoch
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4 months ago
OMER PERI @ome.per Omer Peri, I’ll Let the Birds Peck My Heart, 2025, Installation A spirit entering through the open window. Haunting, Edmond de Rothschild Center @edrcenter Closing, 20.2.26 Assistant curator: @adilam_ Photos by @danielhanoch
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4 months ago
MICHAELA WINEFIELD FLEISHMAN @michaela_winefieldfleishman Michaela Winefield Fleishman, Eichmann in the Shower, 2025, Etching and engraving on lithographic stone Eichmann turns his back. He doesn’t know we are watching him; he looks upon his own shadow. We observe Eichmann in a moment so material that his entire body seems like a faceless mass, almost hiding from us. It is precisely when his back is turned toward us that we can discover an image not so distant from ourselves. What is our distance from this man? Is it the distance of a glass booth, of prosecutors, witnesses, and judges? Or is it a more intimate distance, frighteningly close, half-naked, one that makes us want to look away? In the act of turning a human being into dust lies a profound abstraction, an erasure of every human dimension from that material and from its form, which together constitute a human being. Dust is matter that is formless, light, invisible, devoid of any capacity to testify to the human who once was. Here is my ghost: voiceless, shapeless, nonexistent and yet crying out through the air we breathe, calling us to look at it, not to become like it. Haunting, Edmond de Rothschild Center @edrcenter Closing, 20.2.26 Assistant curator: @adilam_ Photos by @danielhanoch
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4 months ago
AISHA KADRY @aisha.kadry0 Aisha Kadry, Basma, 2025, Oil on canvas Aisha Kadry, Untitled, 2025, Oil on canvas Spirit in the Field In the wide field, the wind blows over forgotten stalks of wheat. Its voice – a woman’s voice, faceless and formless – fills the air. She sings, and her voice, like the earth, calls upon the whole world to stop and listen. Her song moves with me from the field to the studio. In the studio, I am no longer alone. She touches the tip of the brush, alters the movement of my hand, reminds me of the story that connects me to the root of the ancient voice emerging from the ground. I paint with her, not over her. Each color is an echo of her; each brushstroke – another line in her never-ending song. Haunting, Edmond de Rothschild Center @edrcenter Closing, 20.2.26 Assistant curator: @adilam_ Photos by @danielhanoch
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4 months ago