By Gal Beckerman

There is a scale model of a Gaza tunnel in the middle of Tel Aviv.

I saw it last month when I was in Israel on the nine-month anniversary of the October 7 attack. The public plaza in front of the Tel Aviv Museum of Art, known since the fall as “Hostages Square,” has become a place of commiseration for Israelis and a site of spontaneous works of public art. A long dining table with dozens of chairs and place settings, one for each of the hostages, takes up the center of the square. When I was there, the whole display, the plates and cups, were covered in gray dust, moldering. A giant red sculpture of an anatomical heart, the size of a car engine, was draped in chains. And everywhere were the names and photos of the kidnapped. One corner was dedicated to posters with the faces of some of the young women who were taken—Daniela, Agam, Romi. The age of one captive who had been 19 on October 7 was crossed out, and a 20 was scrawled in Sharpie.

hairs and place settings, one for each of the hostages, takes up the center of the square. When I was there, the whole display, the plates and cups, were covered in gray dust, moldering. A giant red sculpture of an anatomical heart, the size of a car engine, was draped in chains. And everywhere were the names and photos of the kidnapped. One corner was dedicated to posters with the faces of some of the young women who were taken—Daniela, Agam, Romi. The age of one captive who had been 19 on October 7 was crossed out, and a 20 was scrawled in Sharpie.

hairs and place settings, one for each of the hostages, takes up the center of the square. When I was there, the whole display, the plates and cups, were covered in gray dust, moldering. A giant red sculpture of an anatomical heart, the size of a car engine, was draped in chains. And everywhere were the names and photos of the kidnapped. One corner was dedicated to posters with the faces of some of the young women who were taken—Daniela, Agam, Romi. The age of one captive who had been 19 on October 7 was crossed out, and a 20 was scrawled in Sharpie.hairs and place settings, one for each of the hostages, takes up the center of the square. When I was there, the whole display, the plates and cups, were covered in gray dust, moldering. A giant red sculpture of an anatomical heart, the size of a car engine, was draped in chains. And everywhere were the names and photos of the kidnapped. One corner was dedicated to posters with the faces of some of the young women who were taken—Daniela, Agam, Romi. The age of one captive who had been 19 on October 7 was crossed out, and a 20 was scrawled in Sharpie.

hairs and place settings, one for each of the hostages, takes up the center of the square. When I was there, the whole display, the plates and cups, were covered in gray dust, moldering. A giant red sculpture of an anatomical heart, the size of a car engine, was draped in chains. And everywhere were the names and photos of the kidnapped. One corner was dedicated to posters with the faces of some of the young women who were taken—Daniela, Agam, Romi. The age of one captive who had been 19 on October 7 was crossed out, and a 20 was scrawled in Sharpie.

hairs and place settings, one for each of the hostages, takes up the center of the square. When I was there, the whole display, the plates and cups, were covered in gray dust, moldering. A giant red sculpture of an anatomical heart, the size of a car engine, was draped in chains. And everywhere were the names and photos of the kidnapped. One corner was dedicated to posters with the faces of some of the young women who were taken—Daniela, Agam, Romi. The age of one captive who had been 19 on October 7 was crossed out, and a 20 was scrawled in Sharpie.