In a City Divided, an Arts Center Refuses to Choose Sides 

Perched on Jerusalem’s contentious seam line, the FeelBeit arts center embodies a defiant act of co-creation. Directed by an Israeli-Palestinian duo, its name cleverly means “at home” in both Hebrew and Arabic, representing its core mission. In the two years since October 7th, a period that threatened its very existence, FeelBeit has instead become a vital sanctuary, drawing thousands seeking a space to breathe. Its current “Shift” program directly responds to a world on unstable ground, featuring powerful joint artistic creations.

The center’s resilience stems from a radical commitment to true equality, where every event is built from the ground up by both communities. This involves navigating intense trauma with hyper-sensitivity, sometimes canceling events to honor shared grief. Ultimately, FeelBeit offers a rare model not of forced harmony, but of authentically building a shared home, together.

In a City Divided, an Arts Center Refuses to Choose Sides 
In a City Divided, an Arts Center Refuses to Choose Sides 

In a City Divided, an Arts Center Refuses to Choose Sides 

Perched on a Jerusalem balcony, the view is a map of the conflict itself. To one side, the ancient stones of the Old City; to the other, the neighborhoods of Abu Tor and Silwan. This is the vantage point of FeelBeit, an arts center whose very location is a statement. Its name, a play on words meaning “at home” in Arabic and “home” in Hebrew, encapsulates a radical idea: that in one of the world’s most fractured cities, a shared home for creativity is not just possible, but essential. 

For the co-directors of FeelBeit, Karen Brunwasser (Israeli) and Riman Barakat (Palestinian), the last two years have been a test of this idea’s极限 (jíxiàn – limits). In the aftermath of October 7, 2023, the foundation of their work felt like it had shattered. “We couldn’t imagine that our Israeli and Palestinian audiences would ever want to share the same space again,” Brunwasser admits. 

Yet, nearly two years later, they haven’t just persisted—they’ve found a more profound purpose. Drawing over 20,000 visitors since the war began, FeelBeit has become an unexpected sanctuary. Their current summer program, aptly named “Shift,” is a direct response to a reality where the ground is constantly moving beneath everyone’s feet. 

The Deliberate Act of “Doing Together” 

What makes FeelBeit more than just a well-intentioned gesture is its foundational principle: true co-creation. This isn’t about one side inviting the other to participate in a pre-defined vision. 

Barakat, who lives in East Jerusalem, explains the evolution. “It took years to understand that being accessible to the Palestinian community doesn’t just mean translating from Hebrew to Arabic. The content must speak to them, and they need to own it as well.” 

This philosophy transforms the center from a mere venue into a living workshop for a shared society. Every event, from musical performances featuring big names like Ravid Kahalani and Nour Darwish to raw conversational salons, is built from the ground up by Jewish and Palestinian artists and thinkers, side-by-side. 

“It’s the result of reaching out and making mistakes and a whole bunch of constant learning, with a constant finger on the pulse,” says Barakat. “You truly figure it out together.” 

Navigating the Unimaginable 

The work requires a hyper-sensitivity to the acute trauma surrounding them. Staff and community members on both sides have lost loved ones. The directors recall the painful decision last summer to cancel a terrace dance performance. It was scheduled for the exact hour the family of Hersh Goldberg-Polin, a murdered Jerusalemite hostage whose family lives across the street, would be returning from his funeral. 

“In a place so interconnected, our grief is also intertwined,” Brunwasser reflects. “We’ve had to learn how to hold space for that, without pretending it doesn’t exist.” 

This unflinching acknowledgment of pain is what builds trust. FeelBeit doesn’t ask anyone to check their identity or grief at the door. Instead, it provides a stage where those complex, often conflicting realities can coexist through the universal language of art. 

Why This Model Matters Now More Than Ever 

In a climate of deep polarization, FeelBeit’s success is counterintuitive. Its growth suggests a silent, steadfast cohort on both sides that still craves connection. “I think there is a type of person right now who can distinguish between the people who are enemies and the people who are partners,” Brunwasser observes. 

Barakat sees their center as a crucial model, not just for Jerusalem but for the wider region. They recently hosted cultural leaders from Arab towns in Israel, demonstrating how their curriculum of co-creation works. “We’re a place where all identities can be together, even though they could be conflicting,” she says. “It allows for a different conversation.” 

The insight FeelBeit offers is profound yet simple: peacebuilding isn’t a glossy, finished product. It’s a messy, daily practice. It’s the difficult lunch meeting after a tragedy, the canceled event out of respect for a neighbor’s mourning, and the brave decision to pick up an instrument and play alongside someone you’ve been taught to fear. 

It is, as both directors emphasize, the act of “actually, actually doing it together.” On a seam line in Jerusalem, they are patiently, stubbornly stitching a new pattern, proving that even when the ground shifts, the foundation of a shared home can hold.