Image of the Week: The Seder
© D. Yael Bernhard
Tonight marks the second night of Passover, and as I write these words, Jewish people all over the world have been celebrating with the annual holiday meal known as a seder. The word simply means "order" in Hebrew, and refers to the ritual meal comprised of a succession of readings, blessings, tellings, and tastings. As a private home-based tradition that is passed down from generation to generation, Passover has been instrumental in preserving Jewish tradition.
Whether purely cultural or strictly religious, no two seders are alike. Each family has its own Passover traditions. I've been to seders conducted on plastic folding tables and on beautifully carved antique furniture. I've been to secular gatherings where the seder is reduced to drinking wine and eating matzah; and to synagogue seders where every part of "the order" is given full expression. There are special questions, favorite songs, activities for children, symbolic reenactments – and my favorite part, Magid – the telling of the story of Exodus, that timeless tale of liberation from slavery. It's customary to talk about whatever present-day plagues or power-hungry tyrants trouble the world. This year, of course, there's been a plethora of references to Pharaoh Putin.
This panoply of customs, from ancient to modern, from popular to private, is what inspired me to paint a seder table as a mandala. A mandala is a geometric structure that radiates outward in circular or oval patterns. Five years ago I got as far as painting this study for a future, larger painting. The inner part of the mandala is the seder table itself, with the most important ritual objects in the center. Living hands around the edge are about to lift wine glasses for one of the many blessings recited. But the edge of the table begins to break up into planes of space, interwoven with past and present participants who overlap, transparent and sliding against each other. For to take part in a seder is to step into a continuum of time that dates back all the way to the 13th century BCE – roughly 34 centuries. Families may recall the contributions of grandparents or great-grandparents; or the teachings of great sages from centuries ago. New haggadot (seder guidebooks) are published each year, with a dizzying array of themes to choose from. All these traditions continue to merge and branch, evolving and growing ever outward, like a mandala that is knitting itself over time.
How do you show the passage of time in a painting? I chose transparency as a technique for distinguishing the living from the dead, and broken, tilted fields of color that suggest movement. Blended areas trail off like the wake of a boat. These suggestions of movement are open to interpretation by the viewer – and that's okay. Like Passover itself, the image may vary according to the viewer's perspective. In any case, I was only testing out ideas here, as that is the purpose of a study; the final painting is yet to come.
This year's seders have already given me some new ideas to play with. I'm thinking my next version will include some land formations. Maybe I can work up some quick sketches during the remaining six days of the holiday . . .
A zissen Pesach (sweet Passover) to all my Jewish readers! And a very happy Easter to my Christian ones.