I was born in Jerusalem, Israel, in 1969, the first of three children, to Maya Sonntag [b.1942 in London to Viennese refugees] and father Simcha Landau [b.1940 in Bukovina, now Romania]. In 1974-5 we lived in Philadelphia, 1978-9 we lived in London. I grew up bi-lingual, multi-cultural, on a hill over-looking the Judean Dessert, the skyline of Jordan, and the northern part of the Dead Sea.

I went to the Rubin Academy High School and majored in Dance. I had to do the army. I had to undo the Army.
I went to art school. Shortly after my graduation of Betzalel academy for art and design, I showed in TRANZIT in the haunted spaces of floor 5, at the new central bus station of Tel Aviv, and in EXPORT SURPLUS Bograshov Gallery's street show, both shows were part of "ARTFOCUS I", 1994, and both early exhibitions dealt with nomadism  and place, and deciphering the meanings of these sites. In the one, I inhabited a Homeless hide out; in the other I created a castaway group show [Yochai Avrahami, Sharon Horody, Yossi Dar, Yasmin Bergener, Gil Nader, Yoav Shmueli]  on the water breakers in front of Bograshov beach.

My next installation was a turned gaze back to Jerusalem, at the Israel Museum, alongside Guy Bar Amotz –
our show was called 'GRRRR…'. I took this exhibition as an opportunity to peep through one of the worlds navels, into and under temple mount and, in parallel, into and under the maintenance of the Israel Museum, a national and archeological site. Jerusalem, a place over burdened with holes, holiness and the less holy layers:
mental debris… a history of being claimed, built and destroyed by empires. The differences between the two cities is still immense: Tel Aviv is buffered by a vital normality dreaming a distance from all concrete frontiers but from the "modernity" phantom.

Shortly after this, I was in Rotterdam to show at the Witte de With… And no better place to view how the system and the logic of a container port town works? I showed  "Resident Alien I" the year after in the Herzelia Museum and after that in Documenta X and at the 47th Venice biennale. A container with a metal floor I deformed using heat and intense hammering to look like the hills…

Next, 1998, Berlin took me for a guest. I was hosted by a Berlin gallery and the Hoffman collection, "Barbed Hula" was shot around then in south Tel Aviv, during a visit, but was edited a year or two later.
After this London called, I Showed in the Chisenhale gallery 1999, London, And in Spacex, Exeter, the following year, I won the first TIMES/ART angel OPEN commission.
I transformed a concrete mixer into a music box with all intent to live in it forever and travel with the story I performed with it in the streets…

In New York City, May 2001. I turned the ThreadWaxing space into a cotton candy crater, spinning the sweet fibers around myself and the audience, to the music of "Arab Snow"… Returning to Israel, I rented a studio for the first time and lived in it. The days were of second intifada
and I worked with HaAretz news paper front pages. 
I transformed the media mass [paper] into daily fruit. My outdoors was the studio's roof. Where I took these blood-replete growths do dry…

After my mother's death, I made "The Endless Solution" in the Helena Rubinstein Pavilion, of the Tel Aviv Museum – Mediterranean town was taken by a salty current into a 21st century deaditerranian prairie.
A Frugal tribe of refugees came into being, and with it a salty explosion of buoyant video works. In "The Dining Hall", KW Berlin, I made a chain of installations dealing with private, communal, and public food, feeding and starving. Culminating in a monumentally bloody donner kabapublic sculpture site, dedicated  to the Turkish dunner kabab carvers in the streets of Germany.

My work is of a bridge maker. [Un]consciously looking for new and vital materials to connect the past to the future, the west to the east, the private with the collective, the sub-existential to the Uber-profound, the found objects to the deepest epic narratives and mythologies… using scattered, broken words to define "the-bricker-brack" and transform it into a soft heap of new dream-buds, to act upon the uncertain horizon.