The Hereness Wagon embraces this lineage. The artist opens the suitcase and assembles a triangulated “space-frame” structure, improvised each time to suit its surroundings. Its geometry is inspired by Yona Friedman, who envisioned megastructures supporting a society of free-will, and of Gego (Gertrud Goldschmidt), whose ethereal wire sculptures defied gravity and hierarchy. Both were Holocaust survivors, native Yiddish speakers, and visionaries of democratic space.
At the core of the Wagon’s presence there is doikeyt—“hereness”—a Bundist philosophy born in Eastern Europe: that Jewish freedom is found not in nationalism, but in local solidarity and shared struggle with co-marginalized others. In this lineage too, the Wagon creates a site of collective presence—dancing, storytelling, and sound. Painted characters from Yiddish folklore are wired into sound circuits: klezmer fragments, protest chants, lullabies, layered over a driving techno beat. The architecture comes alive. So does the crowd.
And then, like its vernacular predecessors, it dissolves. The structure is dismantled, each piece returned to the suitcase. The music fades. What’s left is memory, motion, and an ongoing portable Yiddishland.
After its journey, the Wagon will continue to travel. Eventually, its painted figures and electronic core will be retired elsewhere—but the suitcase and space-frame will remain, ready to be reopened, rebuilt, and reimagined by the next artist.