The components of fantasy are also the central elements in the works of Elisheva Levy. Levy uses paper to create both works and their environments – thin, fragile shells that steer the mind to ponder our ever-diminishing civic life and ever-increasing consumerism. For this exhibition, Levy chose to create her own version of a wedding cake.

The wedding cake is an ancient tradition, dating back from the days of the Roman Empire, where it was common to break open a fresh loaf of bread over the new bride’s head to symbolize an end to her virginity, a hallmark of fertility and a pronouncement of the groom’s ownership of her (and here also is the related Jewish tradition of baking plaited bread for the ceremony, then blessed by the groom and divided among the wedding guests). Over the centuries, many beliefs and traditions were tied to the cake, such as the traditional cutting of the cake (the first act of the newly wedded couple, though once performed solely by the bride), its white color (a replication of the pristine whiteness of the dress, symbolizing purity and virtue), and its many tiers (a symbol of fertility).

The wedding cake, often also adorned by the figure of the bride and groom, is an element that, by nature, must be exaggerated. It must stand out, much like the other impressive components of the event there to be seen – the wedding dress, the fancy car that brings the couple to their destination, the flower arrangements.

Levy’s wedding cake adheres to all the rules and meets all requirements. Frosty pure in its whiteness, grand and spectacular, multi-tiered and laden with every decoration imaginable – and made entirely of paper. It is both festive and pathetic; the thin and vulnerable material leaves it an empty husk.

This particular wedding cake, with the frighteningly heavy knife embedded within it, is carried by the groom. But the groom is also just a paper shell, and he seems to wither beneath its weight. The entire scene can be crushed into a paper ball and easily discarded.