Environmental artist and industrial designer Doron Gazit is a graduate of the Bezalel Academy of Art in Jerusalem. His work, its scale, and his choice of materials and settings reference the interface of nature, technology, and industry with a modern sensibility and playfulness. Gazit has installed a large number of environmental pieces throughout the world, including the Negev Desert in Israel, Santa Monica Beach in California, Tokyo, Mexicali, and Dubai. Gazit considers these temporary installations as literal extensions of the act of drawing and prefers to refer to these pieces as “lines.” His method of intervention is to bring our full attention to the landscape, not to obscure it.


“Doron Gazit draws the line not only in the sand, but in the water. And air. And he draws it not with a pencil, but with a package – a self-contained, 3-dimensional, bio-neutral tube traversing landscape space, landscape space to whose transformation he wants to bring our attention. Despite its urgency, Gazit’s art is one of play, and choreographed elegance, and expansive imagination. An artist and designer, Gazit is best known for inventing that floppy figure flapping in front of gas stations and donut shops. But commercialized whimsy is the least of the arrows in his quiver.  Long before those giant, bendable cigarettes-with-arms began their dance along the highway Gazit was fretting over the physical condition of the world, exacerbated by the nearsighted politics being waged over it. Now he gives voice to his concerns.

As a longtime Californian, and as an Israeli, Gazit finds himself at the leading edge of the struggle against environmental degradation. His projects sewing miles-long bright-colored balloons – air tunnels, really – through lakes and forests, deserts and cities are proposed not just in aesthetic context, but in a social one. Like Christo, Gazit’s canvas is the troposphere, and mirrors, yet modifies, mankind’s presence there. Unlike Christo, the social aspect of Gazit’s efforts is not in the negotiations among humans towards an artist’s vision, but in the influence the artist’s vision might have on negotiations among humans.

The ‘Red Line’ Gazit introduces into Pasadena  at the Armory Center for the Arts is not an extension of the Los Angeles subway, but an extension of the worldwide ecological crisis, specifically manifested in two places, the drought-beset San Joaquin Valley mere miles up the freeway and the equally fraught Dead Sea halfway around the world. These are the projects Gazit wants to realize soonest, stark lines laid across sere terrain as if rendered on maps. Gazit plans to take his Red Line next to the melting icebergs in Iceland and then further around the globe. In Pasadena he has realized his red trails snaking in and out of buildings and streets, a highwire microcosm of global rupture.”

Peter Frank, April 2015