Victorian Visual Culture

The Fall 2023 semester at Mount Holyoke College was rocked in early October by an open siege on Palestine by Israel, which to the date of this writing has claimed nearly twenty-thousand Palestinian lives. Shock and outrage poured in from the Mount Holyoke community, accompanied—as expected of a liberal arts college—by art. One piece of art that stands out among the influx of posters, protest signs, and graffiti is the installation created by several of my Mount Holyoke peers. Composed of pro-Palestine art arranged in the shape of an olive tree on a giant sheet of fabric, a symbol of Palestine, the mobile art installation was displayed in the Kendade Science Hall, the Talcott Greenhouse, and the Williston Library in December of 2023. The featured art appeared mostly in shades of white, black, green, and red: the colors of the Palestinian flag, recently adopted to represent the movement for a free Palestine and a halt to the genocide being carried out there. The Palestinian flag is central to the piece, with phrases such as “Jews for Palestine” and “no justice on occupied land” surrounding it as if the flag itself were blasting out the words. It’s striking. The harder one looks, the more there is to see, dozens of individual pieces of art coming together to form an impressive and moving cry for Palestinian freedom and lives. It’s also giant, spanning the size of two queen-sized beds and able to hang from a second-story railing without even coming close to touching the floor. The size and boldness of the installation remind the viewer that no matter what else is happening, despite the many thousands of deaths that have occurred, Palestinian liberation is an idea that will never be crushed or forgotten.

The phrases and images used within the art installation as a whole are not foreign to anyone who has been keeping up with the global outrage on Palestine’s behalf. The symbolism of the watermelon, used in the stead of the Palestinian flag when it was banned, stands out. Olive branches encircle the art and form the defining shape of the tree, both as a symbol for peace and a reference to the ancient and historic olive trees destroyed by the siege on Gaza. One of the central pieces of the installation shouts out to the Land Back movement, alongside other pronouncements of solidarity from those whose home countries or ethnic backgrounds were also the victims of imperialism and occupation. The entire work gives off the impression of dozens of protest signs brought together into one unifying image without losing their own messages and choices in the process. Some of the images also support the boycott against companies which support Israel enacting genocide such as Starbucks and McDonald’s. A phrase from a piece towards the base of the tree declares, “liberation for all requires resistance from all.” Those who look upon the art and feel helpless under the weight of it all are reminded that there are ways to help. Starbucks stock has recently tanked as a result of continued boycotts and protests. Even just seeing the art and its many voices calling for Palestinian liberation imbues the viewer with a sense of hope; it’s a powerful piece of art that grabs the viewer’s attention no matter where it hangs. Nearly a month after seeing the installation, I still think of that giant tree and the Palestinian flag at the center when I scroll through Twitter and see reports of the death toll climbing higher and higher. It forms a piece in the unofficial series of art crying out for liberation that stands millions strong—art itself cannot save the world and protect human lives, but it sure can help. With every piece of art that I see that voices support for Palestine, denounces the actions of Israel, and continues to spread the branches of hope to whoever comes across it, the worldwide art installation of support becomes even larger. The Olive Tree Installation presented at Mount Holyoke is a small part of the overall outpouring, but it’s striking and meaningful in that it displays the unequivocal belief that Palestine will be freed from Israel’s occupation and violence.

The Olive Tree Installation has its own Instagram account, theolivetreeinstallation, where updates on its creation and journey around the campus have been posted. The fate of the installation is uncertain—will it continue to be displayed around Mount Holyoke or even further when the spring semester arrives? Was this a temporary display, to be seen only by those who were lucky enough to catch it in the beginning of December? No matter what happens to it when we return for the spring semester, the image of its mighty branches and its calls for liberation will ensure that the Olive Tree Installation will remain in my mind for a long time to come.