I am Tal Tenne Czaczkes, an entrepreneur, multidisciplinary artist, and environmental and social activist.
I am married to Shimshi and a mother to four children.
I am a pop artist, optimist, and the strongest Believer. I choose to observe the world through a childlike point of view, believing that we can turn imagination into reality.
I'm a keynote speaker, entrepreneur, and workshop leader, utilizing intuitive creation, identifying opportunities, and making innovative connections through existing resources.
HOPE!
My artworks have been exhibited at the Israel Museum, Tel Aviv Museum, Rabin Square, and various galleries throughout Israel.
The Ventilator | Rabin Square | Tel Aviv | 2012 | Photo: Eric Sultan
Birthday | The Israel Museum Jerusalem | 2015 | Photo: Eric Sultan
The Beach Ball | ordon beach | Tel Aviv | 2022 | Photo: Eric Sultan
Popeyit. The strongest believer | Tel Aviv | 2022 | Photo: Tomer Czaczkes
For more than a decade, I have collected and created my art using toys that people threw away. What began as a random connection turned into a life-changing event, where I reused hundreds of thousands of plastic that could have ended up in the trash.
👉 All studio activities promote a sustainable and environmental agenda.
👉 Each action is driven by a vision of a circular economy, utilizing existing resources, and finding environmentally and community-friendly solutions.
The studio's actions are committed to the SDGs:
Goal 5: Gender Equality
Goal 8: Decent Work and Economic Growth
Goal 12: Responsible Consumption and Production
Goal 15: Life on Land
The blue period
In March 2018, I dyed my hair blue. It was Israel’s 70th Independence year, and coming from the worlds of visual communication and message-making, I dyed my hair and declared: I am a flag!
A month later, I created Independence Day — The Toys Are My Words, a kind of utopian manifesto for the country I wished to live in.
2018 took me back to the landscape of my childhood in Yad Labanim, Petah Tikva – to the memory of the memorial wreaths laid on the ground beside the names of the fallen. Inspired by them, I created a series of wreaths from found textiles – that was the blue one.
Between 2018 and 2023, my works were painted in blue. I explored identity, belonging – to myself and to my beloved Israel.
I hadn’t planned the blue beyond the concept. I didn’t know where it would lead me, nor that on the very day I declared Israel’s independence celebrations, I was beginning my own journey toward independence.
In 2016, I created Woman with a Hole in Her Belly, part of a series of three works through which I first understood that I was experiencing something deeply emotional. I didn’t know what it was, but I realized that the toy assemblages were not random – they were speaking the words I could not yet say. This work, originally an assemblage of toys, later became a painting – my first blue one.
A few months later, I created The Woman with the Blue Head, a piece that converses with Despair, in which I assembled Woody with his head buried in the ground.
Between 2018 and 2022, I photographed the series Tali’s Mustache, inspired by Dali’s Mustache – the 1960's photo series by Philippe Helsman that helped define Dalí’s artistic persona through his iconic mustache.
Alongside my personal explorations, I created a series of Blue charms and eyes – toys and objects assemblages born from curiosity about how meaning shifts when an object changes its context. These identity-oriented objects fascinated me. Dozens of humorous connections evolved into 'Bli Ayin Hara" (“No Evil Eye”), a window installation at Shoofra on Dizengoff Street in Tel Aviv.
Then I painted the Hamsa Alek, quoting a red ‘STOP’ TAKI card I found on the street.
2019 was also the year my creative story turned upside down. From an artist exploring childhood experiences and creative thinking, I became an environmental activist. The climate crisis was daily on the news, and using the mountains of plastic toys I had collected for nearly a decade, led me to look differently at the objects surrounding us — to seek new value and meaning in creation.
From the day I chose to shift my artistic purpose toward reducing consumption and promoting environmental responsibility, I acted across every possible platform to make an impact. A few months later, the Tel Aviv Municipality approached me to propose a sculpture addressing plastic pollution on the beaches – and that’s how The Beach Ball was born.
And then came the flags. Hundreds of Israeli flags that I collected from the roadsides – and in my lowest moments, I promised them that one day, we would rise again to the top of the mast.
In 2019, the flags were stitched together into thirty united pieces, forming The Flag of Flags — a monumental work that has accompanied me ever since.
I waved it as a symbol of connection and belonging, carrying a vision of equality, shared responsibility, and hope — until it revealed itself as The Flag of Hope.
Through these blue years, my personality evolved.
Confidence grew, self-belief took root. The blue butterfly became a symbol of freedom – to be a free spirit in my land – and with it came the readiness to step forward, to be seen, and to stop hiding.
Like me, my blue works transformed – from healing to hopeful. The blue that once held pain began to radiate optimism and humor. The belief that fracture and sorrow can be a catalyst for awareness and growth found lighthearted expression
At home, whenever I raise the idea of changing my hair color, everyone immediately objects –
“No! Don’t go back to black, you must stay blue!”
When I ask why, they give me two answers:
First — “because blue is your brand, that’s how people recognize you.”
And second – the reason I truly stay –
“Because your blue hair makes people smile.”
Blue holds within it the qualities of sorrow and loss — yet also of healing and hope. Through my work with this color, I discovered the resilience and independence I was seeking.
Today, out of the fracture I experienced, and through the healing I found in the toys and in environmental creation, I choose to use my colors and artistic tools to convey a message of hope.
Curatorial Note:
Much like Picasso’s Blue Period, my blue years emerged from a space of introspection, healing, and emotional awakening – yet unlike his melancholic blue, my blue transformed into an active force of optimism and resilience.
And as in Kandinsky’s exploration of spiritual vibration through color, my blue evolved into a symbol of faith, belonging, and movement – the living pulse of art that believes, acts, and connects.
Photos: Ben Cohen | Eric Sultan | Ella Faust | Dikla Meuda | Uzi Porat | Ran Yehezkel