Image of the Week: The China Cabinet
© D. Yael Bernhard
This painting was inspired by an immigration story that is both personal and universal – that of my maternal grandmother, Regina Loewe, who immigrated to New York from Hungary in 1912. The life of Nana Jean, as I called her, while individual and unique, was also so typical that this painting could represent the experience of millions of Jewish immigrants who fled widespread persecution and poverty in Eastern Europe around the turn of the century, seeking refuge in America.
Nana Jean is the subject of many of my paintings. Apart from my father, she was my closest relative during my formative years. My childhood memories are full of wonderful times in Nana's apartment, where she sewed clothes for my dolls and taught me to make apple pie and Hungarian mushroom-barley soup. Yet as the sole member of her family who had escaped before the Holocaust, Nana silently bore the loss of her parents, sisters, aunts, uncles and cousins who, according to the Red Cross, were all deported to Auschwitz. Nana's silence made a deep impression on me as I sought to comfort her, without knowing exactly what was wrong. Somehow, I sensed I would understand when I got older.
Many years later, that understanding unfolded in a powerful dream which I titled "The Weeping Heart." In the dream, Nana's fictitious china cabinet opened to become a holy ark. In the center of the plates and cups, photos, candlesticks and mementos of her life, a human heart hung suspended in space, weeping tears onto a pure white plate. Disembodied human hands reached toward the heart, cupping the space where the tears pooled, like a fountain, then dripped down and out of sight.
What I learned from this dream is that despite my grandmother's severing of her Jewish identity after the war (she did not keep kosher, and did not give her three children a Jewish education), her heart, though disembodied, was still in the Torah, and still wept for the connection that was lost. And I, as the dreamer, was charged to understand this hidden reality, and to help heal that which was broken.
The painting you see here follows three studies: a pencil sketch, a large charcoal drawing, and an acrylic painting on paper – a monochromatic work in dark colors. This final oil painting also demanded dark monochromes, both to express the sombre subject matter and to create a surface of tonal gradients, undistracted by excess variations in color. Overlapping, transparent objects form two broken, chaotic fields that flank the pale and spacious center. A single cup protrudes into this sacred space, symbolic of the remnant of connection to her Jewish heritage that Nana surely carried to her death. Here are her unused Sabbath candlesticks; her unlit menorah; three precious photographs of her parents and sisters; and the jewelry box and wine glasses she could not throw away, though she tried to leave the past behind. Over thirty years after Nana died, I tried to piece these objects together, conjuring her life in my mind, and honoring her experience – and that of millions of immigrants just like her.
As for the words on the Star of David at the top of the ark: the Hebrew words Dah Lifney are taken from the phrase Dah Lifney Mi Atah Omed – Know Before Whom You Stand – which is written at the top of many synagogue arks. Know Before, to me, means understanding those who came before me. It signifies the foresight of so many prescient Jews who fled the horrors of the Holocaust – and so many who did not. It's a call to understand history, the nature of faith, and the limits of divine intervention. It's a reminder to honor those who perished in the Shoah at the hands of monstrous cruelty and indifference. Much has been written about this phrase, including one particular poem which I invite you to read here (scroll down to find it), written by a high school student.
The China Cabinet is the image for June in my calendar, The Jewish Eye 5781/2021 Calendar of Art. The original oil painting is for sale; please inquire for more information if you're interested.
The Jewish Eye is available in my webstore ($18 including shipping) or on Amazon ($18 prime).
Rosh Hashanah begins this Friday, September 18th. After next week, I'll resume writing about works on other subjects. Thanks to all my readers who have supported my calendar.
A good week to all – and to my Jewish readers, Shana Tova U'metukah – a good and sweet new year!
D Yael Bernhard