“She Survived” – oil on canvas, © 2024 D. Yael Bernhard
This past week marked Tisha B’Av – the 9th of Av on the Hebrew calendar, the saddest day of the Jewish year. This is a day of mourning for tragedies and sorrow in centuries past. On this day in the year 432 BCE, the First Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed by the Babylonians, and in 70 CE, the Second Temple was destroyed by the Romans. On this day in 1290, the Jewish population of England was expelled from that nation, and in 1492, over 350,000 Jews were expelled from Spain, having peacefully thrived there for more than a millennium. These are just a few examples of black spots in Jewish history that took place on this day, and reminders that wherever there is ignorance and superstition, antisemitism rears its ugly head, morphing into different forms as people believe outrageous lies and blame the Jewish people for the problems of the world.
In addition to bearing these collective memories, many Jews carry individual stories of persecution and loss, such as the story of the woman in this painting, a Polish Jew who perished in the Holocaust. Her daughter’s story had a happier ending, as she was one of the lucky children who survived. An estimated 1.5 million children were murdered in the Holocaust, most of them Jewish. Like all the terrible tales of WWII, this one is unique, and yet also typical of the tragedies that unfolded in the net of evil cast by the Third Reich. Of course, Nazi brutality also extended to other kinds of people, including the gentile family that gave refuge to this little girl. They were repaying a favor, as the mother in the photo had previously taken them in when the father of their family was murdered in a random act of violence, and their home and livelihood destroyed.
Thus the little girl gazing at the viewer lived and grew up to become the mother of the daughter who commissioned this painting almost 80 years later. This precious photo is the only one she has of her mother as a child, which somehow made its way to her from Palestine. Though photos like this are cherished and preserved, the Jewish people did not cherish the victimhood that was forced upon them in the Shoah (the Hebrew word for Holocaust), and quickly sought to move on, rise above hardship, and forge a new identity as soon as the war ended. That is the best of the Jewish way, always to build anew and thrive.
I thought about this story, both sad and triumphant, as I worked on this painting. The objects in the still life are among several family heirlooms that I was invited to choose from. The ceramic rabbit caught my eye, with its melancholy pose. I added my own marigolds to it, which barely survived the winter indoors. The vase made a good centerpiece for the painting, while the menorah seemed to balance the whole composition by activating the space on the right and adding another element of Jewish identity.
I’ve done several paintings of photographs in the past, which I enjoy very much. There’s something very poignant about juxtaposing a black-and-white (or sepia) person with colorful objects. Who is more animated, the people or the pottery? Which holds more meaning? All objects appear equally alive in a still life, which is why mundane things somehow become more vital. I remember thinking the folds of a tablecloth in a still life by Cézanne appeared to be dancing, and a simple carafe of wine had a unique personality. In a still life, relatives who are long gone are memorialized in a new context, and honored with hours of close attention as their features are patiently rendered. What an intelligent face this girl has, I thought to myself as I articulated her features. Like so many other children of the Holocaust, she was destined to become an orphan. I sighed often as I worked on this painting.
My choice of colors reflects a decision to use similar colors – gradients of brown, peach, and coral pink – in the background, foreground, and the main subject, the photograph. Rather than employing a contrasting background as I’ve done so often in the past, I allowed the other objects to strike the eye differently. I wanted the photograph to almost “grow” out of the table. This is all part of an ongoing inquiry into contrast, which I want to start using differently. I want to allow backgrounds to mirror or blend with subjects. What better place to experiment than with a deliberate arrangement of natural and manmade memorial objects?
“She Survived” is the image for August 2025 in The Jewish Eye 5785/2025 Calendar of Art, available in my webstore, on Amazon, or if you’re local, directly from me. All the images may be viewed in my webstore.
A good week to all!
D. Yael Bernhard
https://dyaelbernhard.com
Have you seen my other Substack, The Art of Health? In addition to being a visual artist, I’m also a certified integrative health & nutrition coach with a lifelong passion for natural food cooking and herbal medicine. Now in its second year, this illustrated newsletter explores cutting-edge concepts of nutrition. I strive to make relevant information clear and accessible, and to anchor essential health concepts in unique images. Check it out, and if you like it, please subscribe and help spread the word. Your support keeps my work going!