MAGAZINE
Threads of Memory, Threads of Hope. A Conversation with Curator Yaara Keydar
A bra sewn from a coat lining inside a concentration camp. A wedding dress made from a military parachute. A thimble carried through unimaginable loss. The exhibition at Design Museum Holon tells the story of fashion not as luxury or aesthetics, but as a tool of survival, dignity, identity, and hope.
We spoke with curator and a fashion historian Dr. Yaara Keydar about the exhibition’s creation, the stories hidden behind its objects, the challenge of translating absence into a physical display, and why these narratives resonate so deeply today.
Yaara, there’s a general story that the exhibition began with Margit Singer’s thimble and the “Alber Elbaz: The Dream Factory” show. But beyond that, what became the central story of the exhibition?
The exhibition indeed sprang from a deeply moving starting point: the sewing thimble of Holocaust survivor Margit Singer, which her daughter Esti gave to the designer Alber Elbaz and became a symbol of strength and creation that could not be taken from him. At the same time, the main story ultimately expanded into a universal exploration of the human spirit. It became an examination of how fashion served as an extraordinary tool for survival during an existential crisis. The exhibition focuses on the stories of women who used clothing and creativity to navigate an impossible reality, preserve their humanity, and cling to hope against all odds.
This central story is tangibly reflected through items displayed in the exhibition. For example, a bra that a woman resourcefully sewed for herself from a coat lining inside a concentration camp, just to maintain a little personal dignity, or alternatively, wedding dresses sewn after the war from military parachutes and escape maps printed on silk. These examples illustrate that engagement with textiles was not merely an aesthetic matter but an active act of resistance, a choice for life and continuity, and the preservation of personal identity even when the whole world was destroyed.
How did October 7 change the way you see this exhibition today?
Dealing with such a complex historical topic took on an entirely new, tangible meaning after October 7. Although there is a specific tribute to the heroines of October 7, created by members of the “Shalhevet” rehabilitation creative center of the Ministry of Defense’s Rehabilitation Department, the main historical exhibition suddenly felt powerfully contemporary. The core question, how to find beauty and meaning when darkness descends upon humanity, became an urgent daily reality for us. The garments transformed from historical items into immediate reflections of the resilience and optimism we so desperately need today.
But beyond that, the audience’s reactions turned the exhibition into something completely new. While I started working on it in 2022, I never imagined for a moment that it would meet people amid three wars. This is perhaps the most significant thing of all: from within the current reality, people today understand the existential need for a bra or lipstick in a concentration camp in a completely different way. It is no longer just a distant piece of history but a deep and immediate understanding of the basic human need to hold on to life, identity, and humanity.
What were the biggest challenges in creating the exhibition?
The biggest challenge was navigating the delicate journey between sorrow and beauty, and between profound loss and optimism. It is incredibly complex to curate an exhibition that addresses one of the darkest periods in human history while also focusing on creation, aesthetics, and hope. In fact, I think the greatest challenge of all is practical and daily: inviting people to an exhibition dealing with such a complex and charged topic, and managing to promise them through it an experience of hope, beauty and optimism. This required a constant emotional and moral balance: honoring the memory of the victims while illuminating the life-affirming power of their creativity.
What was the hardest story to bring to life in the exhibition?
One of the main hurdles was that much of the material evidence from the Holocaust and the war in Europe was destroyed. Translating the era’s existential need and resourcefulness into a physical display meant we could not always rely on existing garments. For example, we had to meticulously reconstruct designs, such as those of Hedy Strand, a Jewish fashion designer from Prague who perished in the Holocaust, whose designs were brought to life only thanks to illustrations saved in an envelope sent to the US before the war. Additionally, we were required to locate or recreate extremely rare survival items, like wedding dresses made from military parachutes or dresses sewn from escape maps printed on silk. The challenge was to make the absence of materials visible and turn it into a powerful narrative of ingenuity.
It feels like the emphasis shifts toward what influenced fashion “before” the war, especially in the context of the US. Why was this choice made? It almost feels as if the main contribution to fashion and textile history by Jews happened in Europe.
This feeling is completely accurate and at the heart of the historical story we are telling. The contribution of Jews to the fashion, textile and couture industry in pre-war Europe was immense, vibrant and unprecedented. Jews were the beating heart of this industry: from the large department stores of Berlin and Vienna, through the couture salons of Paris and Prague, to the tailor shops in every city and village.
The chronological shift of the exhibition to the context of the United States and the home front was not intended to diminish this European contribution, but on the contrary, it was meant to illustrate the magnitude of the rupture. In Europe, this rich and prosperous tradition was cut short with brutal violence. The vast professional knowledge of those women and professionals transformed in an instant from a tool of creation and prosperity into a tool of pure survival in the camps and in hiding.
At the same time, the shift to the American home front presents a reality in which some of those Jewish immigrants and refugees who managed to escape Europe before the inferno of the war, brought their knowledge and talent with them and integrated into the fashion industry in America. There they faced different kinds of challenges, involving rationing, patriotism and the need to create practical items that would support the national morale. The choice to present this contrast in the exhibition was intended to highlight the enormous void left by the erasure of European Jewry in the history of fashion, and at the same time to show how the threads of that creation and skill migrated, survived and continued to influence across the ocean as well.
What is more important for you as a curator: the historical aspect or the visual one?
As a curator, I do not see them as separate aspects; they are completely intertwined. The visual is the medium through which the history is told. When visitors see a dress made from a silk escape map or a military parachute, the visual impact immediately conveys the historical reality of scarcity, resourcefulness and survival. My goal is to make the history tangible and emotional through the visual presentation, and to allow the stories behind the textiles to truly resonate and pierce the heart.
Which display or section in the exhibition is the most important for you personally?
There are two main spaces that together create the exhibition’s complete emotional journey for me. The first is the space displaying 14 rare personal items from the Yad Vashem collection, including a bra sewn from a coat lining, a pendant sculpted from bread, and a belt made of electrical wires. Displaying historical objects that were saved and preserved with reverence, within the context of a fashion exhibition, clarifies that the garment here is not an aesthetic item but a living testimony to the human spirit and the power of survival. The second space, which concludes the exhibition, is the spectacular display in a huge swimming pool dedicated to Lea Gottlieb. As a Holocaust survivor who arrived in Israel penniless and built the Gottex swimwear empire filled with color, flowers and art, this pool symbolizes the ultimate triumph of life and creation. The combination of the deep rupture at the beginning of the journey and the burst of life at its end is the beating heart of the exhibition.
It feels like this theme could continue — are there any ideas for a “next chapter”?
The direct and natural continuation of this project is already happening in practice. The extensive curatorial research that accompanied the creation of the exhibition deepened and evolved into my doctoral dissertation, which was approved just this month at the Hebrew University. My great aspiration and hope is that the doctorate will also be published as a book and reach wide audiences. This is proof that this subject is a sort of endless well of untold human stories. Academic research allows me to continue diving into the fine seams of history, and to choose fashion and textiles as the ultimate tool for decoding complex cultural, social and human processes.
Dr. Yaara Keydar is a fashion historian and curator whose work explores fashion as a cultural, historical, and deeply human language. She holds a PhD in Cultural Studies from the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, an MA in Fashion Studies from New York University, and trained at the Costume Institute of the Metropolitan Museum of Art and at the Museum at FIT in New York.
Since 2018, Keydar has lectured on fashion, culture, and art in Israel and internationally, and has curated exhibitions in Israel and abroad. Her exhibition, Heroines: Fashion and Hope in World War II, is currently on view at Design Museum Holon and is her fourth exhibition at the museum.
The exhibition “Heroins” at Design Museum Holon is open till August 1st.
Interview by Asya Fix.
Photo credit: Elad Sarig
