Prof. Laura Kolb | Fall 2019 | Baruch College

Author: arikimmel

A Lamp Beyond Lights

The menorah in the photo is unique in more ways than just its artistic appearance. The meaning behind this menorah was partially intended by the artist, but today, it carries a much stronger message. The menorah is made from carved wood. A material not usually used for something that would hold a wick and a flame. Because of the jewish tradition, the menorah has nine candle holders; eight are for each day of Chanukah, and the ninth is to hold the one that lights the rest, which is usually raised a little. Thus, it’s a mimesis of a kosher menorah with all the identifiably-traditional characteristics; however, it’s artistic style and carvings give the menorah it’s own signature look. Behind the menorah is a decorative star of David, and Hebrew biblical text that means “who is like you, O’lord, among the celestials?”. Both the symbol and the text have meaning beyond the obvious.

Hanukkah Lamp

This Hanukkah lamp or menorah, is a rare example of Jewish ceremonial art created during the Holocaust, in 1942. The menorah was made by Arnold Zadikow who was a sculptor and architect and Leopold Hecht, who stole the wood from Nazis in the camp. They were both deported to Theresienstadt, a concentration camp located thirty miles from Prague. Arnold was able to create the menorah in secret since he was assigned to work at the Lautsch Workshop, which made decorative arts for the Nazis. The menorah was made for the children in the camp as a symbol of hope. All jewish practice was outlawed in the camp, and if anyone was caught with the menorah people would be shot on the spot. However, during the eight nights of Chanukah, for three years Jewish children in the camp would light this menorah and sliver of hope would appear in their minds. The menorah symbolizes heroism and sacrifice at its most extreme. Today, this menorah continues to impact the way people celebrate Hanukkah. Jews from all over the world recognize the privilege of freedom and the sacrifice that people made to continue their traditions. 

 

The Hebrew inscription is very specific to the time and the overall message that the menorah conveys. In a time of desperation and pain, many Jews of Theresienstadt were still strong in their faith and traditions. The wood is also an ironic symbol of freedom. This is the same wood that the prison barracks were built in the camps. Additionally, despite the star of David being a racist symbol that jews had to wear over their clothes during the war, the Jews still embraced the symbol as if to ignore this harrowing period in time. Over time, this menorah could be mistaken for an ordinary menorah, albeit the weird material choice; however, with enough background it becomes clear that the wood, the star, the letter carvings, and the menorah as a whole is something much more symbolic than practical.

Dependency In NYC

 

I see of you – more than me of me.

Who was to know, and when, how you use I?

Who was to know, stick’d in my palm, my tag is you?

Who was to know, my thoughts, equate your actions?

Addictions, time, sleep all lack’d, are my non wanting.

Life, work, family all consum’d of your needs, whilst kill’d mine.

I treasure life of you, but you consume – all treasure’s of me.

Hesitation. Buzz’d! Buzz’d! You scream, and never for I are notify’d.

Always consuming, sometime’s rewarding, always regretting – is me of you.

 

I and you need energy, but you always energize first, and tether I to the wall.

I carry your sleep in my backpack, but you always steal mine in time.

I carry you like medicine for my soul, and you slip a bomb to my tick of time.

I considered long your end, but on your end you considered me little.

But despite your short coming’d – you is what I love’d.

And despite conflict of I – you are my resolve.

 

Had angst, desperation, mindless routine, troubled to no avail.

Who was to know how – I have reached this point?

Who was to know how – I can let go?

Who was to know how I can run away when we are running in circles?

Had I let go, perhaps I would have understood that you were – no good.

 

Camera Lucida: Two Parts, Question + Image

Part 1

“What I can name cannot really prick me, The incapacity to name is a good symptom of disturbance…the punctum can accommodate a certain latency (but never any scrutiny).“

The first and second paragraphs of chapter 22, give a good explanation and example of what the author means by punctum. He defines it as something in the photograph that grabs the person’s attention and gives the viewer something to ponder as they step away. In this passage Barthes explains that this intriguing aspect must also be unknown, at least at first, to the viewer. It’s also important that it is obvious at first glance that there is something unbalanced in the photograph, and need not be explained by a caption. It’s a little hard to understand how something in a photograph could be so distinguishable yet be incapable of being identified by the viewer – a corequisite according to Barthes.

Part 2

“It was history which separated me from them…this is the only time that I have seen her like this…by accessories which have perished…That is what the time when my mother was alive before me – is History.” This Is a quote from the first and second paragraphs of chapter 26. Barthes introduces the idea that history has a strong impact on the spectator. Seeing a photograph of his mother wearing clothes and jewelry that preceded his birth had a profound impression and is associated with his definition of the studium. Although usually the studium is the background knowledge and information that the viewer has, here, Barthes argues that the unfamiliarity with the past is what impacts the viewer. This point is relevant to the argument because it explains one characteristic that appeals to the author as the spectator of a photograph. Since the historical background in the picture seems pertinent to the specific picture of the author’s mother, I think this idea’s relevancy varies for each photograph and sometimes isn’t even a factor. For instance if the picture is from the current era, and the subject is anonymous, the timeline of the photograph might not even be noticed by the spectator.

 

Question:

Sometimes when I’m in a museum and I see a very old photograph, I can get so distracted by its age and the differences of the era that I may not even absorb all the main subjects of the image. I wonder if a photograph’s age alone can be part of the punctum, not the stadium.

 

Photograph:

As per Barthe’s request, I did not add a caption for this image.

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The Unconventional Aesthetics of Unconventional Galleries

A story is the difference between an artwork and a splattered tarp. If hung on a canvas and set in a gallery, a Jackson Pollak painting can sell for millions. However, if left in the back of a moving truck, the average person wouldn’t pay over a few dollars for it. The proper aesthetics in a space can tell the story to sell anything from art to coffee. When someone buys artwork to hang in their living room, they want to be able to share its story with their dinner guests. Similarly, the aesthetics in a coffee shop are designed to induce a certain feeling or share a mission statement to differentiate itself from its competition. Many galleries in the Chelsea area are carefully designed to share part of the artist’s intentions or methods behind their artwork. This attention to small details often bolsters the story behind the art that helps it sell without a salesman.

 

In the Alexander Gray gallery on West 26th Street, the white cube-like gallery is not the only geometric shape on display. In the center of the first floor stands two eight-foot transparent sketch-like sculptures by Teresa Burga. The two vase sculptures are the exact three-dimensional copies of two sketches that hang on the wall. The room’s white background creates the illusion that the vase is not an empty three-dimensional sculpture, but rather just an enlarged sketch that is still hanging. Additionally, the art on the other side of the gallery parallel’s a similar theme of scale and dimension.  An intricate geometric checkered board gives the illusion that it is leaping off the wall beside its small two-dimensional sketched sibling hanging on an adjacent wall.

Teresa Burga Vase Sculpture

These examples of sketches hanging beside the finished work as intended by the artist help illustrate the story without a title or a salesman. On the two vase sketches, the proportions are carefully written beside the sketch. With these proportions, the sketches retell the process behind the sculptures’ creation. However, the decision to hang up the sketch may not have been up to the artist. Most probably, the art gallery made a conscious decision to add this extra flavor, or story line, to the art when staging the gallery to help the artwork sell.

Vase sketch with dimensions

 

For the second art gallery, the setting was a bit more unique. The photographs on display are visible from the entrance, but only once your eyes glaze across the rest of the warmly decorated space. In the center of the gallery visitors can sit on a brown leather couch with a Parisian carpet underneath it. The exposed vents and stone ceiling reflect the industrial Chelsea atmosphere. Instead of the white cubed walls, the color is a warm living room beige that is closely tied to the pictures and the galleries’ purpose.

 

Similar to the geometric shapes depicted in Teresa Burga’s sketches, Ashok Sinha’s aerial photographs show the geometric landscapes of Nevada, Minnesota, Utah and California. Each of the four pictures is in a different hue and represent a different season. The shots were taken from an airplane while flying from New York to Los Angeles in the winter time. The colorful display of the four seasons through aerial photography is perfectly in tune with the warm living room aesthetic of the gallery. Furthermore, the gallery is not just reflective of the aesthetic of these colorful photographs. Better yet, the pictures and the furniture in the gallery are aligned with the purpose of the space: to sell the seasonal hot cup of Pumpkin Spice Latte, a Starbucks beverage.

Ashok Sinha’s Aerial Photographs: California and Minnesota

Starbucks at 525 W 26th Street

Nevada desert and Utah winter landscapes

 

In both galleries the space is a strong component of the viewers experience. In the Alexander Gray gallery, the white walls acted as the backdrop to the black transparent sculpture – ultimately creating the two-dimensional illusion for the audience. Additionally, the layout of the small sketches immediately next to the full-size focal pieces help demystify the illusionary art and ultimately sell it to its audience. Similarly, in the Starbucks at 525 West 26th Street, the aesthetic choice to depict seasonal photographs promote the marketing campaign for the store’s flagship drink, the Pumpkin Spice Latte. With Ashok Sinha’s aerial depictions of the four seasons, this space creates an experience for the viewer that helps the customer enjoy their seasonal hot drink on the cushioned leather couch.

Alice and Banksy, New York’s Most Wonderfully Mysterious Children

Something strange happened on a cold October 2013 morning on the Upper West Side. It was so cold that the locals chose to be seated indoors for their daily brunch get together. Yet on one ordinary corner of 79th Street and Broadway, photographers, locals, and tourists all crowded around an ordinary red water pipe. All of a sudden a young silhouetted boy appeared on the wall immediately above the pipe. The boy’s face was too dark to distinguish, but he must have been cold, because he was just wearing shorts and a tee shirt. As the crowd watched and flashed their cameras the boy caught a mallet from the sky and attempted to crush the red water pipe as if he were at a carnival playing the Strongman game.  Stunned by the paparazzi, the boy froze with the mallet just a foot away from the pipe. The onlookers began to interact with what was now just “graffiti on wall” by placing their heads between the pipe and the mallet, pretending to be the pop-up heads in the game. Over time as all other Banksy artworks went missing Boy with Hammer stayed back by the Zabar’s building, even as the crowds left for dinner.

Morning that the Banksy was found

People interacting with Boy With Hammer

Boy With Hammer is an enigma. People can only guess at its meaning. Its artist is anonymous, and yet, despite this, his works sell for top dollar. Many of Banksy’s pieces depict poverty, hypocrisy, and boredom. They often send a politically driven message to the audience. Sometimes the message is jumping off the wall and speaking for itself, and other times people stare for a while, confused, as if they are playing charades with an infant. The Upper West Side’s Boy With Hammer is a painting of the latter variety. Perhaps only a child can truly relate.

 

A few things are known about this artist. In October of 2013, Banksy took to the streets of New York. Each morning an Instagram post announced where his latest work could be found. In total he made thirty-one pieces around the five boroughs. The overnight appearance and disappearance of these illicit drawings adds to the enigma that is Banksy. Fortunately, the Zabar brothers, owners of real estate and a famous food market located uptown, took action to protect the last Banksy piece in New York. Today the artwork, which is painted on a building they own on 79th street, is covered by a plexiglass square. Interestingly, unlike most graffiti artists who are prosecuted for illegally painting on private property, Banksy’s illicit work is praised and preserved for prosperity (even though preserving the work may not gibe with the artist’s intention).

Banksy on 79th and Broadway protected by plexi – glass placed there by Zabars

Although the political message behind this painting may be known only to one’s imagination, the painting is categorically part of New Genre Public Art. In all of Banksy’s works some political message is being addressed in the most creative and avant-garde form. For instance, one of Banksy’s paintings in an underprivileged neighborhood in Harlem shows a rich boy spray painting the words “Ghetto for Life” on the wall, while his butler serves him spray cans on a silver platter. In this specific example it is clear that the neighborhood is closely tethered to the artwork by becoming the background canvas that the graffiti painted words are addressing. The location of Boy With Hammer is tied only to the location by the siamese connected water pipe, but not necessarily to the Upper West Side, for the painting’s meaning remains a mystery.  Maybe the boy attempting to destroy this water pipe is addressing the lack of cultural education in today’s youth. The parallel is that the water pipe, which has now become a part of this art piece, is being destroyed by the ignorant boy.

 

About a twenty-minute walk and fifty years before the West Side Banksy work, seventy-four-year-old Jose was walking with his wife on a warm Friday evening on the East Side of Central Park. A short walk from the conservatory water pond, Jose and his wife approached a young girl with long, golden hair and a short sleeved, frilled dress sitting on a giant, wavy mushroom top. He and his wife gasped in disbelief as a cat ran up to the girl and stood in front of her with its paws up as if to tell her a joke. As Jose walked a little closer to see what was going on, a rabbit with his ears perked up, dressed in cufflinks and a tuxedo, pulled out his pocket watch and seemed to be telling the girl some very important information. Jose’s childhood imagination began to wonder if maybe he was in some alternate world where cats and rabbits could speak, and he couldn’t help but to approach the girl and her entourage of animals.

 

Jose De Creeft, the famous Spanish sculptor of the bronze statue of Alice in Wonderland in Central Park, wanted to visit his work after it was set in place in 1959. He never got a chance to climb it, and even though it was intended for children, Jose’s inner youth came out when he stepped up onto the mushroom and took a seat on Alice’s lap. All of a sudden, a man’s voice was heard in the distance shouting “Get off the statue, it was made for children!” As the man approached, it became apparent that the man shouting was George Delecorte, Jose’s close friend and the private commissioner of the bronze playground. When they both realized what had happened, Mr. Delecorte climbed the statue and sat on Alice’s other lap opposite Jose. Mrs. Creeft sat on the bench opposite the statue as if protectively watching two children play at the park.

JUNE 30 1959 George T. Delacorte with his Alice in Wonderland Statue in Central Park. (Photo by Dan Farrell/NY Daily News Archive via Getty Images)

This statue was dedicated in memory of Mr. Delecorte’s wife who loved children and Alice in Wonderland. Alice’s face was modeled after Jose’s daughter who loved the fact that her father was working on a playful piece for other children. Jose had paid attention to every little detail. He sculpted dozens of clay models before making the mold to cast the bronze. The Mad Hatter who is seated on a mushroom beneath Alice, is watching the Dormouse, who is intentionally placed on a medium-sized mushroom for children who can’t climb all the way up. Even beneath the main mushroom, the detail is immaculate. Little snails and lizards could be found by toddlers who can only crawl on all fours.

Mr. and Mrs. Creeft and daughter. Alice’s face was modeled after her.

 

This playground was made for children of all sizes and ages. The statue became a busy stop for all New Yorkers and tourists from the day it was established in May of 1959. The minute it was unveiled a swarm of children climbed the statue – touching all the figurines’ realistic features and searching for hidden clues in its many angular twists and hidden curves. This park within a park is most definitely classified as “Art in Space” as defined in Miwon Kwon’s One Place After Another. The artwork is site specific, socially responsible, and sends a heartwarming message to people of all ages and especially for children from all around the globe.

 

Swarms of children covering the statue when it was unveiled

Both the Banksy street art and the commissioned Alice Statue have a mysterious aura to them. Nobody is really sure who the artist is or the true meaning behind Boy With Hammer, and Alice’s rabbit hole has been a part of every child’s daydream. On the morning that the Banksy was found the community came out in giddy surprise to see the illicit street art. The bronze statue was similarly appreciated by the community of New Yorkers who came to the unveiling and watched the exquisite statue in awe as children occupied every square inch with screaming joy. However, because the Banksy work is a non-commissioned piece on a private wall, the Zabars brothers have to fight locals from defacing the work. The painting’s specific message is unclear, but Banksy’s reputation for anti-imperialist, anti-government, anti-elitist art is well known and is laid over to the onlooker.  The statue on the other hand, was made for the purpose of the public to interact with in a very physical way. The bronze polish has actually come off and some surfaces flattened from all the children touching and stomping on it. Eventually the park may, one day, have to replace this one with a copy, but anticipating this with his child friendly statue, Jose de Creeft gave the mold over to the park’s conservation department.

 

Alice In Wonderland Statue in Central Park by Jose De Creeft

 

 

 

 

King Solomon + Lion On Playing Cards

 

Some Background

The lion is a quite a symbolic animal in Jewish culture. It signifies bravery, prominence, power, and wisdom. Often times an important Jewish scholar or prominent community leader would have a lion sculpted on his tomb stone. Additionally, the lion is a symbol of protection and is often sculpted at the very top of a Jewish sanctuary protecting the ten commandments.

Interestingly, the word for lion in Hebrew is aryeh, and it is a common Jewish name.  Often times the name is paired with a Yiddish word for the middle name. For example, my first name is Aryeh, and my middle name is Zalman, which is Yiddish for Solomon.

When I saw this depiction of King Solomon and a lion guarding him by his thrown, on the playing card in The Jewish Museum, I immediately thought about how it perfectly matches my name.

 

Analysis:

 

The lion pictured on the playing card is sitting upright with his front legs straightened and together. Its presence is a sign that there is a respectable person on the thrown above. However, this is no ordinary security lion. If you take a closer look, you’ll see that the lion has a pair of wings, signifying some kind of supernatural strength as well. With a little research I found that the lion depicted at the foot of King Solomon’s thrown is a lot more than a mere statue.  It is actually the first elevator mechanism illustrated in the Old Testament. As explained by Nissan Mindel on Chabad.org, on each of the six steps leading up to the king’s thrown sat a pair of golden lions facing each other. The lions would stretch out their feet and help the king onto the next step by lifting him up, and gently setting him down into the palms of the next pair of lions, until the king was seated in his gold plated, ivory thrown. (The biblical source for the lions found on King Solomon’s thrown can be found in Kings 10:20.) Additionally, the presence of the lion which can also be a symbol of wisdom, matches King Solomon’s wise looking facial expression.

 

Detailed information:

 

Artistic Play-Cards
Ze’ev Raban (Israeli, b. Poland, 1890-1970)
Duchifat Press (Jerusalem), Palestine (Israel), c. 1920
Ink on paper
Each: 2 1/4 × 1 1/2 in. (5.7 × 3.8 cm)
The Jewish Museum, New York
Gift of Dr. Harry G. Friedman, F 4561

 

(Thejewishmuseum.org)