Wednesday, 6 November 2013

Jewish Symbolism and Art, Part 3

Radiant Energy

Le judaïsme pulse et rayonne d’énergie comme quelque trou noir dans la galaxie de l’histoire[i]   

Judaism pulsates and radiates with energy like a black hole in the galaxy of history.                                             

Despite the Second Commandment’s prohibition of graven images, which the rabbis interpreted in a generous way often to forbid works of art that could be used or even be seen to be part of idolatrous customs in the contextual societies where they lived, wherever and whenever they were given the opportunity, Jews did create forms symbolism and art in their own terms.  This was easier when responsa literature agreed to treat Christianity less as a form of outright paganism than a derivative of Judaism based on a misinterpretation of the Torah and its main principles.  Wherever and whenever the political and economic conditions allowed, moreover, Jews created art of all sorts on a lavish scale and with all the skill and insight their own civilization could muster, drawing on the resources of the surrounding cultures, but also recreating the new techniques in their own specific ways.  For many contemporary art historians still not to accommodate to these widened parameters is to diminish the value of their supposedly normative assessments of the European achievement in art altogether.  This holds true, let us say, for those historians who do not take into account such evidence as the Dura Europos synagogue, which, aside from its relevance in demonstrating a prior Jewish achievement of Byzantine iconic representation of Old Testament figures and events two hundred years before Christian evidence, happens to be the most extensive collection of classical wall-paintings outside of Italy. If like Toynbee the commentators treat modern rabbinic Judaism as a mere fossil, then they can only see paintings, symphonies, ballets and architecture made by and for Jews as a dead imitation of what is truly alive and lifeless piece of minor craftwork, not as a continuous development of a millenia long tradition.

The professional historians of art may grudgingly accept a few remnants of ancient Temple and synagogue art as of historical interest, curiosities of a virtually irrelevant people, but when Jewish achievement in the arts appears again and again in later periods—they continue to glance over its sporadic evidence as due to lack of creativity or appreciation ; whereas a more sympathetic—and obviously discerning and sophisticated reading of the facts would recognize it as proof of the destructiveness of anti-Semitic persecutions.  What remains, then, may seem like only occasional and discontinuous developments, lost in the overwhelming weight of Christian or Islamic art throughout the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, whereas even then a refined examination, sensitive to careful understanding of the historical facts and a close exegesis of the written texts,m would be alert to the way in which Jewish craftsmen and women, whether converted or merely earning a living where and when possible, particiopated in those hegemonic enterprises.  Even when it stares them in the face, that is, when there is no doubt of provenance and authorship, Jewish creativity is too often mistaken for something else, treated as insignificant, or overlooked altogether. 

I wish to cite from Franz Landberger's conclusion to his chapter on "The Illumination of Hebrew Manuscripts in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance", which appears in the second, revised edition of Cecil Roth's now classic Jewish Art: An Illustrated History:

Barred from other artistic achievements through personal inhibitions (by the prohibition of making images) or through outwards restrictions (by not being accepted into guilds), they found the art of book-making in many cases the only channel for their artistic urge.  For this reason medieval illuminations are of such great significance for Jewish art in general.  Among other peoples, the art of illumination is only one aspect and not even the most important one of their artistic activities.  For medieval Jews, however, the art of the book is the center of all artistic activity.  All talent is directed towards it.  Here, the rich storehouse of Jewish thought and imagination, of Jewish solemnity and Jewish humor find pictorial expression.  And here, finally, we have the clearest evidence of the fact that the Jews of the Middle Ages enjoyed form and colour.[ii]                                                                                                

Despite this attempt to recognize what is there as evidence and to treat it as proof of a continuity despite its relatively out-of-the-way manifestations, scholars not prepared to see what is there or unwilling to step outside of existing crude paradigms, have nothing to report—and there failures reinforce one another generation after generation.  Take this example which locks into the passage cited above: if we turn to those sections of S.F. Brandon's Man and God in Art and Ritual[iii] which deal with manuscript illuminations and associated arts, we find discussions of Greek, Aztec, Hindu and Christian traditions;  but not a hint, not a whisper of Jewish manuscript art. This is a phenomenon I have called  “Incidentalism,” where the presence and activity of Jews in world history is treated as merely incidental to the main players and events, if not completely ignored.[iv] 

The Christian exegete and the secular historian, and often the untrained Jewish scholar, all seem to have been blinded by the Second Commandment.  They are swayed by the strong ideological view stemming from ecclesiastical traditions that treat Jews as a people who are hide-bound literalists and obsessive or hysterical followers of the letter and incapable of appreciating the spirit of the Law.  Let us turn to this question of inhibitions and prohibitions which seem to exist within Judaism itself to prevent the development of an aesthetic tradition, a sense of form and color.  That path will lead us to the verge of symbolism within Judaism, and to why art—or rather the work of aesthetic art, if not for its own sake, then for the sake of providing worldly pleasures and idolatrous excstacy—does not become in itself an object of worship, or at least a centring of worship, an icon, though it is certainly there to the outside observer blessed with hindsight.  Then we will look at some of the ways in which illustrated, enhanced, and elaborated objects play a role within worship, study, and domestic life for Jews prior to the period of modern Emancipation, how they prepare for a flowering of Jewish aesthetic activity in the post-Emancipation period, and finally lead up to the situation we began by mentioning in Paris in the early part of this century, a time when a group of some forty to fifty Jewish artists take significant roles in the evolution and creation of the most advanced and sophisticated artistic activity of our shared European civilization.

For a very long time in the histories of art which spill out from studies of Christian iconography and liturgical and ceremonial objects, it has been commonplace to commence any discussion of Jewish art and attitudes towards things aesthetic by citing the passages in Deuteronomy IV.17-18 and Leviticus XXVI.1 which are taken to prohibit in an absolute fiat the making or worship of graven images.  However, to adduce those passages as though they established an inalternable base for Judaism’s legal attitudes and cultural practice either before or after the Fall of the Second Temple is to slip into the same trap of anti-Jewish literalism which finds its locus in the New Testament and subsequent gentile slurs against Judaism as the religion of the law, whose rigid interpretation of the letter makes Jews the spiritually dead, fossil-like remnants of a superseded religion.  These archaic mandates or taboos in the dispensations of the Law are no more to be read as unconditionally binding dictates than, say, for instance, the so-called lex taliensis (an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth).  Rabbinical—in the Mishnah, Talmuds, midrashim and a score of other primary  interpretation and praxis have seemingly always received such mandates as part of a continuous rabbinical dialogue, an open interpretative process.  The commandments are not to be abstracted from the pages of Scripture as absolute rules but perceived, in both their written and oral contexts, as part of the many-voiced revelation recorded by the Torah and as focal points for juridical argumentation.  As Cecil Roth indicates, in his "Introduction" to Jewish Art: An Illustrated History, interpretation of these commandments have varied through Jewish history in response to specific events and circumstances.[v]                                                                                                              

While there has been a very strong reluctance to portray God himself and a somewhat less severe inhibition on the depiction of the human face and  form, there is no actual prohibition against the "representative imaging of God" in the Hebrew Bible or the rabbinical commentaries.  "What is clearly forbidden," says Arthur A Cohen, "is the fabrication of idols (`graven images') and the imaging of elements in the universe that might serve as idols," and therefor Cohen understands the scriptural injunctions as against idolatry but not consistently anti-iconic.  He further examines the relevant passages in the rabbinic collection Mekhilta de Rabbi Ishmael and finds that:

What is at stake...is the fear of idolatry, the prohibition of the worship of idols, and the extenuating implication that anything made by man to represent the beautiful and the sublime risks the making of an idol.... Representational art is forbidden in order that divine revelation will be unchallenged.[vi]             

Nevertheless a survey of the cumulative development of Jewish art, beginning with the detailed descriptions of the Ark and the Temple in the Torah and carrying through to modern archaeological discoveries, reveals a series of pendulum swings, often in direct response to the attitudes towards divine and secular art in the surrounding Persian or Greek, Babylonian or Latin, Christian or Moslem society;  this Jewish response sometimes being one of moving with the tide of general public opinion amongst the host populace or sometimes of behaving in a contrary way in order to preserve or protect Jewish identity.  What there is not, then, is a hard and fast rule.  Though it remains a subtle anti-Semitic dig to call these pulsations and radiations a kind of black hole in Jewish history, it nevertheless is apt to think in terms of dynamic flows, widening and narrowing circles of energy to follow the ebb and flow of persecution, withdrawal into obscurantism, and then flooding outward in times of tolerance and enfranchisement.  What remains steady is the source, the core of Jewish values, sensibilities, and techniques of analysis, whereas what varies and seems to disappear into the glare of surrounding society are superficialities and disguises.



[i] Pierre Cormany, “La question juive (ou comment réconcilier antisémitisme et cosmopolites”  Perspective et pensées dures (19/11/2008).

[ii] Franz Landsberger, "The Illustration of Hebrew Manuscripts in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance," in Cecil Roth, Jewish Art: An Ilustrated History, rev. ed. by Bezalel Narkiss (London: Valletine Mitchell, 1971), p. 148.

[iii] S.F.G. Brandon, Man and God in Art and Ritual: A Study of Iconography, Architecture and Ritual Actions as Primary Evidence of Religious Belief and Practice (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1975).

[iv] In so doing, of course, I am parodying Edward Said’ book Orientalism a book which has distorted and positioned much of modern scholarship.

[v] Cecil Roth, "Introduction," in Cecil Roth, Jewish Art: An Illustrated History (New York, Toronto, London: McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc., 1961), pp. 21-22.

[vi] Arthur A. Cohen.  Readers will have to forgive the author for this lapse in annotations.  

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