Shiran Berkovitz
Hi there, my name is Shiran, and I am a very curious being. I was born in southern Israel, where I spent most of my years, and for the past seven years am living and creating in Berlin, Germany.
Since I was a little girl, I have been enchanted by the way we, people, express our inner world through our bodies and faces.
Drawing was and satyed my solid practice and anchor in life. It’s my biggest way of communicating my feelings, thoughts, and insights. Over the years, drawing was accompanied by different practices and perspectives that allowed me to understand myself better and recover from harmful coping mechanisms I developed in earlier years, such as eating disorders and alcohol abuse.
Today, alongside my personal use of art as a tool for exploration and expression, I also invest sincere energy in sharing what I have learned and practiced, to allow others to find a more compassionate understanding of themselves and develop a new perspective on life and living.
Artist Statement 2026
My practice centers on figurative graphite drawing, investigating how our inner landscapes of thought and emotion translate into physical form. Through the quiet intensity of graphite and occasional, restrained color, I explore themes of identity, persistent fixations, and the search for meaning.
My work is fueled by a deep sensitivity and an intuitive response to internal and external experiences. While my background in art history and somatic practices like yoga provides a strong technical and observational foundation, the "magic" of the work lies in its emotional honesty. By depicting figures that often blur the line between human and mannequin, I examine the tension between our inner agency and the external structures that shape us.
In a culture marked by distraction, these drawings offer a necessary pause. By holding space for paradoxes, such as softness and force, or beauty and discomfort, I invite viewers to move past emotional avoidance and reconnect with their own vulnerability. My work is an invitation to stillness, asking what emerges when we finally allow silence to speak.
By holding space for paradoxes, such as softness and force, or beauty and discomfort, I invite viewers to move past emotional avoidance, reconnect with their own vulnerability, and allow silence to speak.