Still life With Menorah

Still Life With Menorah, acrylic on canvas, © D. Yael Bernhard

Back before the time of daguerrotypes (early printed photos), people would sit for portraits. A skillful portrait painter could earn a respectable living in those days, patronized by the wealthy to create beautiful mementos of distinguished family members, and along with it, their legacy. Sometimes these portraits contained objects that hinted at the person’s life.

A good portrait, whether painted by hand or captured in a photo, conveys something more than just a likeness – it imparts something of the subject’s personality and soul. In some cases, it may hint at the content of their life. These details may only be understood by viewers familiar with the person portrayed.

Likewise, the contents of a life may be portrayed in a still life. Like a portrait, a still life captures a moment in time, preserving it forever in an image. The subject of this still life has other markers of time as well: the gathering of dusk, the burning of candles. As a ritual performed year after year, the lighting of the menorah becomes an expression of both constancy and change, marking the passage of time. In kindling these lights, I uphold a tradition that is relatively new in the scope of Jewish history. Each year, it’s a little bit different, varying along with weather and circumstance, reminding me of changes since the last time I sang the b’racha (blessing).

Last year, I set up this menorah on my painting table by the window, in keeping with the custom to offer its light to all who pass by outside. Where I live, that would only be a coyote or perhaps a wild turkey at this time of year. The black bears are in hibernation, and the birds that winter over are not active at dusk. I could only offer my little festival of light, my symbol of hope and renewal to the spruce trees outside my window. Serenely settled in the wintery landscape with finger-like branches silhouetted against the fading sky, they made a fine background for my composition. But no – I decided the trees were no accessory to the main subject, but an equal player in the interaction of objects. So I treated my subjects as actors on a stage – the candles relating to the trees, the elegant curves of the menorah talking to the pebbles and seashells, embedded with memories of the faraway beaches where they were found.

How our most cherished and ordinary memories become inculcated in an object, I do not know. To paint these repositories of our affections is to gaze down the corridors of time, and appreciate its most subtle contours. It takes a lot of patience to render the objects in a still life, allowing the artist plenty of time for reflection.

The menorah shown here was borrowed it for the purpose of this painting from a dear Israeli friend who grew up in British Mandate Palestine. Painting this special menorah added a new and different memory to the holiday. Art can enrich any occasion, and set it apart from the ordinary. And any occasion can inspire a painting – it’s only a question of when and how.

This painting is the image for December in my self-published calendar, The Jewish Eye 5785/2025 Calendar of Art. The calendar is presently on sale for $9.95 (including shipping) in my webstore and on Amazon.

The original painting is also for sale; please inquire for more information if you’re interested.

A good week to all, and to my Jewish readers, Chag Chanukah Sameach – Happy Hanukkah!

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!