T.H.: Please tell me more about how this image affected you in relation to your images from memory and the sketched images that evolved from it.

M.K.: I thought about those memories all the time. I saw a dog and the body covered, and suddenly the hand is taken out. The dog went and pulled the hand. When I saw the dog in the Sinai desert I was only 25 years old. I had an uncanny feeling when I later saw the photograph by Yasha Agor. You know, feelings change, but their definition remains, like a memory, or like a drawing. I made the drawing in free relation to the photograph. When I draw, I arrest my thought, to see what I think, because drawing is the wish to understand the form behind the form, the form behind the feelings and memories. I first drew a dog eating the body, then I drew a dog howling, like a lamentation, mourning along side the dead soldier (fig. 5).

T.H.: You express a sharp empathy without sentimentality in your work. Your statements and attitudes are always very clear, yet also evocative and touching, so that they require empathy from the beholder. In your earlier minimal and geometrical sculptures from the late 1950s and 60s it seems that this kind of emphatic expression was not of any importance.