Image of the Week: Kaditah Goats
© D. Yael Bernhard
It was right around this time of year in 2011 that I travelled to northern Israel with two friends. We were walking on a scrubby hilltop outside the ancient city of Tzfat (also known as Safed), where Kabbalah – Jewish mysticism – was born in the Middle Ages and rose from the ashes of the Inquisition. In that time, Palestine was under the rule of the Ottoman Empire, which welcomed Sephardic Jews fleeing from brutal antisemitism. Many who escaped found refuge here. From the flames and dungeons left behind emerged a transcendent belief system that sought to repair the shattered world, bringing together the mystical elements of Creation in a unique harmony. I have not personally studied Kabbalah, but I feel its repercussions in the history and culture of the region.
Kaditah sits on a high, rugged, grassy hill adjacent to Tzfat, overlooking the Kinneret, or Sea of Galilee. A large vineyard marched down one side of the hill, and a grove of young olive trees grew alongside the dirt road on the other side. Kaditah was at the time an off-the-grid settlement, with ramshackle cottages and barns. The place had a lot of character, and a stunning view of the sparkling white city across the valley.
Coming upon this colorful herd of goats among the ancient white stones, I felt I had walked backwards in time several thousand years. I was reminded of the herd of spotted goats that the Biblical Jacob tended for his uncle Laban. This present-day herd looked much the same, until their shepherdess brought me back to the present with her blue jeans, hiking boots, and Brooklyn accent – sure enough, she hailed from New York City. I envied her summer job, tending goats here in the pastoral hills of the Holy Land.
Grazing peacefully along the summit of the hill, the goats made a striking subject. Often in my landscapes I seek to juxtapose near and far, with objects close at hand forming a frame or point of departure for something in the distance. The goats moved in constant interaction with each other, in contrast to the buildings in the distance that seemed carved out of the mountain, still as stone. Israel's War of Independence (1947-1949) saw some of its most pivotal battles in Tzfat. Almost two thousand years before that, some of the greatest early tanna'im (rabbinic sages) lived here, including the famous Rabbi Tarfon, whose grave was a stone’s throw from where I stood. I snapped a photo for this future painting, freezing the animals in time.
It took ten years for me to finally bring this oil painting to completion. I looked back at all my photos and artwork from the area (including this painting of Kaditah, the subject of a recent post), and tried to recall the lay of the land, the fragrance of wild grasses in the hot afternoon sun, the cool evening breezes, the singing of katydids. I love the Galilee with its white stones and scrubby trees! I tried to capture a sense of movement not only in the goats, but also the diagonal texture of the grass, which I built up with olive, peach, and ochre hues, offset by blue-tinged shadows. I let the white canvas show through, allowing the painting to breath the light, airy feeling of an open landscape. I wanted that hillside to swell toward the viewer, yielding a sense of its sun-baked height and timeless contour.
The last goat stops and stares into the distance as she enters the scene, as if contemplating her own footsteps in time, and that which has passed before her. My eye follows her gaze toward the sacred sites and stone alleyways of Tzfat, where street musicians play clarinets for tourists and orthodox Yeshiva students turn their faces away from cameras. If you ever visit there, be sure to ask someone to point you toward the cheese shop in the Old City. They have the best goat milk ice cream in the world. I recommend the strawberry.
Kaditah Goats is part of The Jewish Eye 5783/2023 Calendar of Art, now available in my webstore or on Amazon. If you're local, you can buy it directly from me; please respond to this post for more information. You don't have to be Jewish to enjoy this calendar! You only need to love art, and history – and maybe goats.
A good week to all!