Inside an abandoned factory on the outskirts of Lisbon (the same place I brought you to last May) a powerful project has just come to life. Red Zone Gallery is a temporary, collective intervention born out of urgency: a raw denunciation of the humanitarian crisis in Palestine.
Conceived by a group of street artists, Red Zone Gallery transforms the ruins of a vast industrial building into a stage for political expression, where urban decay becomes an unsettling echo of the devastation endured in Palestine.
Between August and September, 56 street artists (from Portugal to Brazil, Colombia, USA, Spain, Italy, Romania, Argentina, Palestine, and Lebanon) occupied the crumbling walls of an abandoned factory on the outskirts of Lisbon. Their interventions gave rise to Red Zone Gallery, a temporary collective exhibition that addresses the suffering of Palestine through multiple perspectives and artistic languages.
Conceived as a horizontal, non-dogmatic initiative, the Red Zone Gallery project rejects both neutrality and simplistic polarization. Instead, it positions itself as a symbolic act of resistance, using the ruins of the factory as a mirror of the devastation endured by the Palestinian people.
“I painted a mural for Palestine in an abandoned room that later became the Gallery. When I finished, I asked three youngsters passing by to share their interpretation. At first, they only saw the aesthetic. I pushed them to look deeper — and a real conversation began.
The next day, while photographing the mural, I recalled that exchange and thought: with more art, we could amplify this dialogue. So I recorded an audio message, explaining the idea and inviting fellow artists to join. They all accepted. That was the birth of the Red Zone Gallery.“
Bugster
The Red Zone Gallery emerged as a gesture of symbolic resistance, calling for empathy, denunciation, and reflection. Built literally on rubble, Red Zone Gallery embraces the physical chaos and decay of the building as a metaphor for destruction. It is the outcome of a shared construction within a place of ruins, where the space itself becomes a living extension of the message. The discomfort, fragility, and tension that permeate the factory echo — in a symbolic way — the daily reality of the Palestinian people. Here there are no white walls, nor careful lighting…the rawness of the setting is part of the experience: the silence of the ruins finding its scream in art.
“The Gallery lives in an abandoned space — always open, unprotected. Every day, we faced the risk of our work being destroyed or the police shutting us down. On top of that, dust, wind, and endless trash to clean were our constant challenges.“
Bugster
This metaphor became even more tangible during the project’s opening days, a one-off event at the end of September, when 400 people walked through the ruins without electricity — just as people in Gaza are forced to live without power today.
The gathering brought together artists, activists, and voices of reflection, marked by moments of listening, dialogue, and confrontation — not in the safety of a gallery hall, but among the ruins, amid the chaos.
“From the very beginning, we knew the Gallery had to be a space for dialogue and awareness. We envisioned debates, talks, and the presence of both Palestinians and the movements that stand with them. Fortunately, we found the right partners to make it all possible.
We hosted three panels — Artists, Journalists, and Activists. Alongside them, two performances took place, followed by an after-party featuring singers, rappers, and spoken word artists.“
Bugster
Photo by Bugster.
More than a gallery, Red Zone Gallery proposes itself as an idea: a replicable model of cultural resistance, ready to be carried into other ruins, anywhere in the world. A direct, plural, and provocative look at the humanitarian crisis in Palestine.
Besides speaking with Bugster, one of the organizers, I also reached out to some street artists who took part in the project to gather their impressions and commentary and share them with you. I like to think of this article as a mosaic, a kaleidoscope of opinions and reflections, just like Red Zone Gallery itself.
Below, you’ll find their words along with some photos from Lisbon’s Red Zone Gallery, while I wait (and hope) to experience it in person one day.
“You can’t pretend to be an artist if you don’t take positions. I am proud to use my voice to bring awareness and point out the good things and also the worst ones.
When Bugster called me to explain the project, he did not even finish the first sentence that I was completely in. The sentence I have chosen is to highlight the atrocity of the Israeli army. They kill Kids. Innocent Kids. Kids that only deserve to be hugged and loved.
We will never forget what Israhell is doing.
We will never forget the Kids.”
Henry
“The piece I created for the Red Zone Gallery is called “Home.” Using a mattress, I invite the viewer into a more personal space, where the destruction of the mattress itself symbolizes the abuse and genocide of the safest and most intimate space we have — our home. The figure that represents my work, my signature, is dressed in the Palestinian flag, symbolizing the people.“
MAR
“Of all the news we receive from Palestine, the ones that move me the most are about children. In this mural, I decided to portray a Palestinian girl running with her gaze fixed on a white bird flying in front of her. The lightness of her figure contrasts with the harshness of the context in which she is placed. In the composition, the child symbolically crosses a wall, a gesture that reinforces the idea of overcoming physical and emotional barriers imposed by the conflict. Next to her, the presence of a door adds dimension to the scene, simultaneously evoking limitation and passage, enclosure and possibility. The white bird, a symbol of freedom and hope, serves as a metaphor for the desire for peace in the face of an interrupted future. The girl, fragile yet determined, highlights the vulnerability of Palestinian children, whose innocence is forced to coexist with violence and loss. Her running gesture emphasizes the natural impulse to dream and pursue life, despite the atrocities imposed. This work invites reflection on the universal right of all children to grow up safely, without fear, and on the difficulty of maintaining hope amidst chaos.”
Jaime Ferraz
“It was really important for us to have access to a safe space where we, as artists, could collectively share our support for the Palestinian people and raise our voices against the ongoing genocide committed by the Israeli government, which is heavily backed by many world leaders.
We believe that when artists and communities come together, art becomes a force for empathy, awareness, and change. And that’s exactly what we have experienced at the Red Zone Gallery.
“It’s complicated”. That’s what politics say while doing nothing to stop the genocide of the Palestinian people. For many, home already exists only in memory.
While politics hide behind complexity, what is lost is the simplest and most human of things: the feeling of safety, joy, and belonging that every child should have.
Home is never complicated. It is the right to live, to dream, to grow and to be free.”
Halfstudio
