Sigal Maor: "Returning to Faith Should Inspire, Not Halt, Artistic Creation"
Sigal Maor is a unique artist who creates masterpieces out of discarded materials, especially plastic bags. How does she do it? What made her stop creating and then return to it? What messages does she convey through her art?
- מיכל אריאלי
- פורסם כ"ב אב התשע"ז

#VALUE!
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Creation Adam-Adamah
Plastic bags, old newspapers, colorful tea packages, bottles, boxes, milk cartons—these are just some of the raw materials used by Sigal Maor, an artist with a unique creative sense, who has been creating primarily from discarded materials for decades.
"The love for art and creation has been there since childhood," Sigal tells us. "I always had a special attraction to crafts of all kinds, to the projects and creations we did at school. After my military service, I studied at the University of Haifa for a bachelor's degree in creative arts and philosophy. My ambition was to advance and develop in art, but the plans changed a bit."
This change happened because during two years living in the United States, Sigal and her husband began a process of returning to faith. "There, abroad, our hearts opened," she recounts, "right after we returned to Israel, we attended a seminar after which we started observing Shabbat and growing stronger in faith. We then lived in the Haifa area and were connected to the Berechisim community."
"The process of drawing closer to Hashem, learning Torah, and fulfilling mitzvot filled me and initially consumed my entire being," Sigal recounts. "As a creative artist, who placed creation foremost, questions immediately arose: How should I regard the world of art now? What role does art play now in my life, and does it fit with a life of faith and Torah?" The creation continued but on a 'back burner'. I felt I needed time to examine the matter and understand the place art would hold in my new world."
Meanwhile, she worked as a kitchen designer. "Although it's not truly art, it still involves creative thinking and aesthetics, and at that time, financial considerations were paramount. In my heart, I felt a sense of loss and a yearning for true artistic creation."
Back to Art
Twelve years ago, the Maor family moved to live in Ashdod. "My husband served in a navy base and because of that, we moved to the city with our two children. Occasionally, I would pass by the Ashdod Art Museum and felt it was calling me. I wondered whether to enter and offer my resume? I had a strong desire to reconnect with the world of artists and creators. By that time, we had been returning to faith for about ten years; the heart on one hand was calmer, and on the other, yearning. At this stage, I realized Hashem doesn't give talents and gifts to a person for no reason; the goal is to use them, not ignore them. The question was how to use the talents? In what way, to what extent?"
But why should there even be a problem?
"I knew the world of art and artists closely," she asserts, "and I knew that good art comes from a place of totality. A place of ultimate dedication, to the point of extremism. On one hand, I understood this, and on the other, I shied away from it. I knew and felt that a person needs to be total only towards the Creator. I felt that the passion for creation and expression always exists, but I didn't want to be in a place where they would lead or control me. It felt a bit like idolatry. I wanted to create from a place of Jewish, faith-based thought.
"One of the things that pushed and encouraged me to return to creation was a sentence I read attributed to Rabbi Kook who says: 'As long as there is even one line hidden in the depth of the soul that hasn't been realized, there remains an obligation for the work of art to bring it out.' I understood that the desire for creation and the need for artistic expression is a gift I received, and not only should it not be ignored or buried, but on the contrary, one should know how to use it. I definitely pray that Hashem will help us all use the gifts given to us for the sanctification of His name and not for self-glory."
Creations with Emotion
Eventually, Sigal submitted her resume to the museum and was accepted for a job. "Initially, I was employed as a guide in exhibitions—guiding in an exhibition is a kind of interpretation you give to creation, greatly enriching the visiting experience. I was very happy to return to the world of creation. Alongside exhibit guiding, I also got involved in various creative projects and also conducted workshops for children and adults. The emphasis was on creation from discarded materials, primarily from the home environment, which have enormous added value. This way, we gain the development of creative thinking, cost savings on raw materials, and especially environmental awareness. Every material used can potentially become an interesting and challenging creation."
One of the special creations Sigal made over the years was during Operation Protective Edge. "Just as Operation Protective Edge began, my eldest daughter got engaged," she shares, "and I remember those days as being very confusing. On one hand—a tremendous joy, because this is the happiest event that could be. The eldest daughter is marrying an avrech, a talmid chacham. But on the other hand—how could I rejoice when soldiers are falling in battle, and in many homes across the country, mothers are crying? I felt I had to express my feelings, to somehow be partners with those families.


"One day, I asked my husband who was serving in the reserves at the time, to bring me a military shirt on which I embroidered the portraits of the fallen, and between the figures, words of my thoughts were woven, a kind of stream of consciousness or my conversation with the Creator. A kind of 'hisbodedus-therapy' on the shirt during the embroidery act. I felt sad and weak in faith, and the embroidery work along with expressing my thoughts helped me and strengthened me."
A Whole World from Bags
It's interesting to see that one of Sigal's favorite materials is plastic bags—yes, those same bags that earlier this year we were informed would cost 10 agorot per bag. To Sigal, they've always had value, and she creates a wide variety of crafts from them, such as knitting, weaving, plaiting, and embroidery.
One of her intriguing works is called 'Adam-Adamah', derived from the wisdom of the sacred language, pointing to the connection between the physical body that decomposes in the earth and the eternal divine soul commanded to emulate its Creator. The creation consists of three parts made with interweaving techniques, each time with slightly different materials: strips of plastic bags as warp threads, and rolled newspapers or palm fronds as weft threads interwoven between them. The interpretation of the creation is expressed both in the imagery and the materials themselves, some of which are organic, biodegradable materials, and some are long-lasting materials like bags.

Sigal adds that environmental awareness is also mentioned in the Talmud (Bava Kamma 50b): "There was once a man who was clearing stones from his own property onto public ground. A pious man found him and said, 'Fool, why do you remove stones from a property that is not yours to land that is yours?' He laughed at him. Soon after, he had to sell his field, and while walking in that place, he stumbled over those stones. He then said, 'That pious man spoke well when asking why I remove stones from a property that is not mine to land that is mine." Sigal expressed this teaching in a creation consisting of four parts, each 27 cm in size, woven from bags and newspapers, on which she embroidered the story brought in the Talmud. "This is a story I tell children and sometimes adults too, and its moral about the obligation we all have concerning the environment is quite evident...."
Incidentally, when Sigal tried to find allusions to bags in the sources, she discovered a verse in Psalms where they are mentioned: "You have opened my sackcloth and girded me with joy." "This was truly divine providence, as I dealt so much with the bags and was curious to know where they were mentioned, and suddenly, one day I went to the synagogue, opened a book of Psalms and was enlightened...
"In general," she adds, "I think the bag also serves as a metaphor for life—a bag is the most insignificant material in the world, who pays attention to it at all? So too in life, sometimes it's the things in the lowest places that you can elevate to the highest places."