For years, Gilad Reich had heard stories about lost photographs that renowned French filmmaker Chris Marker took in Israel in 1960, but he had no idea that these stories would lead to the discovery of a photographic treasure. “I joined the museum two and a half years ago,” says Reich, curator of photography at the Israel Museum, “and even then, there was a rumor about lost photographs Chris Marker had taken in Israel as preparatory work for his film Description of a Struggle (1960).” That rumor sparked a search that has now culminated in a remarkable exhibition.
The turning point came with a serendipitous meeting between Reich and photography researcher Shuka Glotman. “A few weeks after I started, I met Shuka,” Reich says. Glotman had been pursuing the photographs for years, driven by his conviction that they had artistic and historical value. His persistence ultimately helped bring the lost negatives to light.
Marker gifted a few prints of his snapshots to the people he photographed, which included Israeli film pioneer Lia van Leer, who used a few of the images for publicity. But on a whole, the negatives ended up at the Cinémathèque Française in Paris, where they were ultimately tracked down.
Reich and Glotman flew to Paris, and what they found exceeded their expectations. “We saw the materials and realized we had discovered a treasure,” Reich says. The pair looked through 1,000 photographs that Marker had talen in Israel, never before seen.
A selection of 120 of these photographs are now on view in the exhibition Chris Marker: The Lost Photographs of Israel. “It’s documentation of Israel in the 1960s, which in itself is fascinating.” Reich says. “But it’s also a rare opportunity to see the country through the eyes of Chris Marker, who at the time was revolutionizing the way we think about photography and cinema.”
Marker’s lens produced more than a visual record; it captured cultural and emotional nuances. “Every frame reflects depth, thought, history, and culture. He brings all these aspects together,” says Reich.
Research for the exhibition revealed that Marker had a deeper connection to Israel than previously assumed. “In 1957, he had already edited a photographic book about Israel,” Reich notes. “So when he came here in the 1960s, he wasn’t just a curious traveler, he arrived with knowledge and interest. But he also brought immense curiosity.”
Although Marker wasn’t Jewish and had no personal ties to Israel, his approach was open and inquisitive. “He came here like he would to any place — curious, cultured, and deeply interested in the interplay between grand historical narratives and small, human details,” Reich says.
Marker’s egalitarian vision comes through clearly in his work. “Everyone is equal before his camera. There are no hierarchies, no distinctions. Whatever catches his eye, if he finds some essence in it, he photographs it.”
The curatorial approach to the exhibition honors this spirit of authenticity. The original negatives were printed in formats and styles that Reich believes Marker would have used, and pays homage to his work with the moving image. “That’s the core tension of the exhibition: between photography and cinema, black-and-white photographs and color film.”
Some of the prints in the exhibition bear Marker’s own stamp — an airplane with its nose pointed upwards alongside the words “Photo Chris Marker” and a Paris address. “We also have original prints that he developed himself,” Reich adds.
Throughout the exhibition, recurring motifs and themes emerge, offering insights into Marker’s artistic preoccupations. “He was fascinated by images of [Theodor] Herzl, for example. That figure clearly resonated with him,” says Reich. “He returns several times to photographs of Herzl posters because Herzl, as an image, interested him.”
Marker was intrigued by the contrasts inherent in Israeli society: the biblical and the modern, the sacred and the mundane. “He was very taken with the tension between ancient symbols and the contemporary landscape,” Reich observes. Marker, he notes, was drawn to “biblical elements in a country that he sees he doesn’t quite grasp, and modernity” as if trying to understand the relationship between tradition and progress in Israel.
Some photographs depict unexpected juxtapositions. “You see chiefs of staff next to… the art, exactly, and some kind of Americana, a roadside diner in the heart of…” Reich trails off. “That contrast is present in many of the images,” he says.
The exhibition itself follows Marker’s geographic route across the country, and the photographs are grouped by region: Jerusalem, the South, the North. A map at the entrance to the exhibition orients visitors to the places Marker visited in 1960, traveling from place to place on a Vespa.
Reich compares Marker’s work to that of Henri Cartier-Bresson. “His ability to capture the decisive moment, with a humanistic gaze, it’s very reminiscent of Cartier-Bresson,” he says. “There’s a warmth, a kind of intimacy in the way Marker connects with his subjects.”
Indeed, the photographs often reflect moments of pride, joy, or quiet contemplation. “He manages to draw something essential from the people he photographs,” Reich says.
Some of the photographs were printed and hand-colored as publicity for the screening of Description of a Struggle at the 1961 Berlin Film Festival. These rare items add another layer to the exhibition’s historical resonance.
The influence of Marker’s work extended to Israeli filmmakers. Reich notes that in 1963, David Perlov, one of Israel’s most acclaimed directors, created In Jerusalem, a short film that echoes Description of a Struggle in both theme and structure. “It’s essentially the Israeli version of Description of a Struggle, and we’re screening part of it in the exhibition, an episode called ‘Border,’” Reich says.
Another filmmaker influenced by Marker is Dan Geva, whose film Alef 963 draws inspiration from Marker’s aesthetic and narrative style.
Through Chris Marker: The Lost Photographs of Israel, the rediscovered photographs are granted a second life, allowing viewers to observe an Israel of the past through the discerning gaze of a cinematic pioneer. The exhibition is an invitation to reflect on identity, history, and the enduring power of the human image, reaffirming Marker’s lasting legacy and offering Israeli audiences a poignant glimpse into a bygone era.
