Bearing Witness: Inside the Nova Music Festival Exhibition

My husband and I were invited to the exhibit on a night that garnered upwards of 500 people in attendance. It was the who’s who of Jewish life in Miami but nobody was in the mood for schmoozing. The atmosphere was somber and quiet…we were there to bear witness, to see it with our own eyes.

The exhibition began with a video that set the stage for what the Nova Music Festival was all about. It was a place where people came together to dance, an event that celebrated peace and love. We learned that Nova means “new” and that the pinnacle moment of the festival was sunrise—waiting all night in anticipation of the sun shining through, the beginning of a new day. “Sunrises are magical moments,” one survivor said in the video.

But this particular sunrise was anything but.

Red Alert

The video showed the moment when the music stopped and a red alert was announced to the crowd. Confusion and chaos ensued as the festival-goers realized the day would hold a very different outcome than the one they had envisioned.

In the next area of the exhibit we were transported to the festival. Tents, camping chairs, blankets, a bar, the stage, even porta potties…authentic relics from Nova all around us. Countless videos were incorporated throughout. Footage on screens large and small (cell phones left at the scene were turned into viewing devices) to see firsthand the horrors following that initial red alert.

There were videos taken by those fleeing the festival, frantically trying to hide and filming potential last words so there would be a record of what transpired. And screen after screen of footage captured by the terrorists. Their words were translated to English:

There is no God but Allah!
We want to fight!
Soon you’ll see things you never dreamed of!
Your son just killed Jews, dad. I just killed her and her husband with my own hands. I killed 10!
God is greatest! God is greatest!

Celebratory sentiments were repeated over and over again…as they opened fire on innocent people. As they abducted Noa Argamani. As they pulled Naama Levy out of the back of the Jeep with her bloodstained sweatpants. As they paraded the body of Shani Louk through the streets in a pickup truck, greeted by a cheering crowd.

I’ve seen some of this footage before, but not like this. What struck me the most was their unanimous gleeful pride—the terrorists’ unwavering conviction that they were doing something righteous, something good. This brutality had been taught to them as the ultimate goal to aspire to.

I can only make sense of it knowing they have been fundamentally brainwashed…what a sad and wasted life that is. And what a tragedy to be on the receiving end of their violent delusions.

Lost & Found

So much was left behind. As we made our way through the exhibit, we passed items that signified life. Water bottles. Clothes. Bags. Toothpaste. A pop-top container of Bazooka bubblegum, just like the one my husband brought home from Israel for our kids last summer.

And then the lost and found station—a sea of bags, purses, phones, toiletries, and shoes that would never be returned to their owners. The shoes got me. Nike, Birkenstock, Hoka, On, Adidas…they could have belonged to any of us.

After the attack a group of volunteers helped sort through what was left behind. Some things were able to be returned to those lucky enough to survive. Others items were given to family members who were grieving loved ones.

The Healing Room

The last stop in the exhibit was the healing room—pictures of faces lining a wall that seemed to go on forever. Hundreds of young people so full of life, senselessly ripped away.

I chose a spot at the wall indiscriminately and looked up. Directly in front of me was Hersh Goldberg-Polin. I got chills.

As I’m sure was the case for many, Hersh was one of the hostages I became invested in. His unmistakable smile was a symbol for innocence and hope. His mother, Rachel, worked tirelessly to bring him home—impressive and commendable efforts under unthinkable circumstances. The news that he would not return home alive was a crushing blow I don’t think any of us have recovered from.

And yet, Hersh is just one of many. Many we have lost too soon (including hundreds more, brutally murdered on kibbutzim the same day). Many who are still trapped, held against their will under unspeakable conditions. We ache for them all to come home.

The program continued with notable speakers providing background on the exhibit’s inception. It was initially created in Tel Aviv to serve simply as a memorial for the victims, but it quickly revealed itself to be so much more. With the exhibit ultimately traveling to New York, Los Angeles, and now Miami—it’s the closest one can get to bearing witness without boarding a plane to Israel. It’s a powerfully immersive exhibit and one that I wholeheartedly urge you to experience if you have the chance.

The event concluded with a harrowing account from former hostage Noa Argamani. We all know this name. I wasn’t aware she was going to speak—my brain raced to reconcile the fact that this woman we’ve heard about in the news (the heartbreaking story of her mother longing to see her again before she succumbed to terminal cancer, her tense rescue by the IDF on the other side of the world) was somehow now sitting across the room from us in Miami, Florida.

Noa told her story. She was poised and clear, but her pain was overwhelmingly evident in her voice. She told us how she hid behind a tree for one or two hours before the terrorists found her. And that what happened next is the video the entire world has seen. (The image of her on that motorcycle reaching out in desperation is certainly imprinted in my memory without any further need for the footage.) She told us how she was in captivity with two young girls (8 and 12 years old) and how they were her source of hope. She played the role of big sister and told them as long as they were together, they were okay. In November 2023, the two young girls were released. Noa was left behind—all alone until her dramatic rescue in June 2024. She told us she’s here now to speak for the hostages who are still in captivity, for those who do not have a voice.

This was the largest massacre in music history, and the industry responded with silence. Would the world have reacted differently if the victims weren’t Israeli? If this happened at a Taylor Swift concert or Coachella? I think we all know the answer.

I kept thinking to myself: If only they would come see this…those misinformed useful idiots spewing hate across the internet and on our streets. If they saw this, they would change their tune. They would see these unspeakable horrors and understand why Israel defending herself was the only possible response to these unprovoked and barbaric acts of violence.

But actually, I don’t believe that’s true. If the past year and a half has taught me anything, it’s that the truth doesn’t matter to people who are determined to hate us. They will find a way to deny, to twist the events, to justify, to look the other way. They will manage to blame the victim as they have done time and time again, while giving the perpetrators a free pass from all accountability.

And so I realized…this exhibit is not for them. It was never intended to be.

It’s for us.

As we bear witness we receive a poignant reminder to never let our guard down. Because now, in our lifetime, we have seen firsthand the horrors that our grandparents experienced. It’s a reminder of what it actually means when we say “never again,” because those words now carry the very real pain reverberating through us all since October 7th, 2023.

Perhaps most importantly, it reminds us to unite in solidarity with one another, to flourish against all odds, and to live exceptional lives proudly as Jews.

And that’s exactly what we’ll do.

We will dance again. Am Yisrael Chai.

Visit novaexhibition.com to support the exhibition and the ‘Tribe of Nova’ healing journey.
All photos taken by Leah Grossman at the Nova Music Festival Exhibition in Miami, January 2025
This op-ed originally appeared in the Times of Israel.