painting – Page 2

A harrowing survival story

Almost every Holocaust survivor’s narrative involves some combination of extraordinary coincidence, righteous humanity amid dystopia or a series of chance events that astonishingly result in survival against all odds. The number of such flukes in the life of Vancouver woman Malka Pischanitskaya may convince readers of the author’s conclusion that survival was her destiny.

Pischanitskaya’s memoir, A Mother to My Mother, is one of the latest releases in the Azrieli Foundation’s Holocaust Survivor Memoirs Program. Begun in 2005, the program has now published scores of firsthand testimonies of Canadian Holocaust survivors, many in both official languages, and all of them available free of charge to educational institutions.

Pischanitskaya’s Ukrainian Jewish family knew its share of misery before the emergence of Nazism and war. Her father abandoned her mother before Malka was born, in 1931, and she was raised in grinding poverty by her grandmother and great-aunt while her mother worked in a nearby village and saw Malka some weekends.

The Stalinist-induced Ukrainian famine of the 1930s killed between three and five million people. The Nazi invasion of the Soviet Union, and its perpetration of the “Holocaust by bullets,” killed 1.5 million Jews, mostly shot at close range and buried in mass graves.

Young Malka’s earliest life, despite hardships, was not without happy memories of Jewish holidays and the changing of the seasons. These are tempered with stark recollections. Without electricity or anything but firewood for heat, she recalls Ukrainian winters so cold the ink at school would freeze solid.

image - A page from Malka Pischanitskaya’s memoir A Mother to My Mother, which includes paintings that she created for a 2019 exhibition — A page from Malka Pischanitskaya’s memoir A Mother to My Mother, which includes paintings that she created for a 2019 exhibition.

After the Nazi invasion of Poland and the beginning of the war, in 1939, five refugee families from Poland arrived in Romaniv (alternatively: Romanov).

“I have often wondered how much my community found out from these refugee families about what was happening under the Nazis in Poland and whether this made them more aware of the disaster that was to come,” writes Pischanitskaya.

What was to come was beyond imagining – which may help explain why Malka and her family remained in Romaniv when some other Jews fled further east into the Soviet Union.

“We were not ready – there had been no mental preparation for this moment – so we did not accept the offers to escape,” she writes.

Soon, the Nazis arrived and young Malka witnessed Jews being killed in the streets. The randomness of those murders was replaced with methodical mass executions. The story, starkly told, is predictably shocking, and differs significantly from what happened further west. Rather than ghettos and concentration camps, the Holocaust in the east was typified by summary roundups and mass killings of entire communities, usually in adjacent forests.

On Aug. 25, 1941, Ukrainian police gave Romaniv’s Jews 30 minutes to congregate in the centre of town.

“Those who were unable to walk had been taken out of their homes on stretchers,” she writes, disabusing Jews of the desperate idea they were being assembled to perform forced labour.

“We walked toward the beautiful park located a couple kilometres from the centre of town,” writes Pischanitskaya. “The crowd of close to 2,000 walked with visible sadness, expressions of disbelief.

“Men were rounded up, separated from their families, and then marched deeper into the forest where, previously, pits both massive and deep, had been dug. Women, children and the elderly were forced into rooms in the military building. Crowded in, there was hardly space to stand. Windows were locked. No fresh air; no water; no washrooms. People screamed, fainted, losing their minds; children were scared and restless.

“One by one, several groups of Jewish people were taken to slaughter. While we were kept in the building, waiting our turns, the heavy ring of machine gun fire instilled extreme fear and terror in all. The slaughter of the Jews from the Romaniv community continued from early morning until dusk – the sun had faded from our lives forever.”

Then: the first of the miracles that spared the life of Malka and her mother.

“Eventually, mothers with children were let go from the building,” she writes. “Perhaps the murderers were tired from their orgy of death and torture, or perhaps there was no room in the pits for the rest of us, but those who had to remain were slaughtered. We left them, still alive, when we had the chance to run for our lives.”

Here, Pischanitskaya catalogues the names of the many family members killed that day. She goes into grim detail about what witnesses reported from the pits.

Thus began years of hiding – and a succession of near-misses, any one of which would likely have been fatal.

The relationship that gives the book its title, of young Malka mothering her mother, is a story of a parent so paralyzed by events that she becomes almost incapacitated. Malka’s astonishing and perilous actions to ensure their survival form the bulk of the book. She begs door to door in the villages where they hide, often receiving small portions of food. At one home, she sees her own portrait on the wall, apparently pillaged from Malka’s family home after they fled – an uncanny and grotesque coincidence.

When, after the war, they returned to Romaniv, “Almost nothing remained except for memories.”

“Adult survivors went to the mass graves to pray for and memorialize their loved ones, and to bear witness,” writes Pischanitskaya.

Of all the people who survived and showed up alive after the war was Malka’s “so-called father,” as she calls him, a man whose sadistic cruelty Malka and her mother would have been better off without.

In a twist, the mother who had been “a dependent child” transformed into a courageous woman who pursued Polish and Ukrainian police for war crimes.

Like so many survivors, Pischanitskaya demonstrated improbable resilience, marrying, becoming a teacher, becoming a mother, escaping the Soviet Union, migrating to Canada and raising a successful family that continues to contribute to Vancouver’s Jewish and broader community.

A Mother to My Mother is illustrated with harrowing, moving paintings that Pischanitskaya created for an exhibition titled Romanov: A Vanished Shtetl, which was presented at the conference of the World Federation of Jewish Child Survivors of the Holocaust and their Descendants, held in 2019 in Vancouver.

To order a copy of A Mother to My Mother in print or ebook format, or any other survivor memoir, visit memoirs.azrielifoundation.org.

Artist’s portals to elsewhere

Artist Amy J. Dyck sits amid her work “Bed Desk,” one of the pieces in her solo exhibit, Portals to Elsewhere, which opened at the Zack Gallery last month. (photo by Byron Dauncey)

The art of Amy J. Dyck is surreal and enigmatic. Her solo show Portals to Elsewhere opened on Aug. 25 at the Zack Gallery. Like any portal, it allows a viewer a glimpse into the artist’s sophisticated and contradictory inner world.

“I loved drawing when I was young,” Dyck said in an interview with the Independent. “I liked little details: earrings, shoelaces. It was easy, like a game. Then I had a son and, like every young mother, I was always tired. Creating art at that point stopped just being fun. I needed to concentrate, to find time for my art, to figure out whether I wanted to spend that time. That was when I became a real artist.”

That wasn’t the only time life challenged her. “I wanted to be a designer,” she said. “I started at design school but, after one year, I became too sick and had to drop out.”

But she never abandoned learning – she taught herself, read textbooks and took occasional classes. And she never stopped creating – paintings and drawings, mixed-media collages and soft sculptures, ceramics and wood installations dominated her life, as she juggled being an artist with her non-artistic jobs, family and chronic illness.

Multilayered and metaphorical, Dyck’s collages and sculptures could be seen as a self-portrait of an artist battling a chronic disability.

“I’m often sick and can’t move much,” she said. “Sometimes, I spend several months in bed. That’s why I make soft sculptures. It’s easier when I’m in bed and can’t go to my studio. I have to be flexible with my materials and techniques to accommodate my illness.”

Despite the hardships associated with her ill health, Dyck’s works don’t display any bitterness or resentment. Instead, the artist is on a journey of self-discovery.

“I have to learn how to live in a body that’s broken,” she explained. “That’s what my art is about. My soft pieces are something I want to wrap around myself, to counteract my anxiety.”

All the sculptures on display at the gallery present complex knots of fabric, pipes stuffed with soft fillings. Combined with ceramic elements, leather, wood, feathers and other materials, these ouroboros reflect the artist’s struggles and her determination to live as fully as she can. Her philosophical piece “Blame Mosquito” is a fur ball with half a dozen ceramic hands coming out of it, pointing in all directions. “When I was young,” she recalled, “there was a traumatic event in my life. I blamed everyone – like those fingers pointing everywhere – until I realized that I myself carried some of the blame. That’s why one of the hands points back at me.”

“Yellow Polka-dot Tail” also has sharp, dark spikes coming out of the soft, colourful tangle and pointing everywhere. “Those spikes are like my anger. They help me feel powerful,” she said.

Another piece, “Wing Head,” introduces a strange single wing decorating the sculpture’s head. “The wing is not functional,” she said. “Just like parts of my body. It is a possibility of flight, an idea, not a reality.”

Dyck explores a body that doesn’t work well by creating allegorical figures with faulty anatomy, with the wrong number of fingers on a hand or mangled joints or tiny wings in the wrong places. “I’m processing my disability through symbolism,” she said.

She uses second-hand materials for her sculptures. “I buy old clothing at thrift stores or internet marketplaces. The leather came from our old couch. My kids helped me dismantle it and cut out the pieces I could use,” she said.

photo - “Wing Head” by Amy J. Dyck can be seen at the Zack Gallery until Oct. 1 — “Wing Head” by Amy J. Dyck can be seen at the Zack Gallery until Oct. 1. *(photo by Byron Dauncey)*

The theme of a body disrupted, of limbs disconnected, continues in her painting-like mixed-media collages. Many of them have images of open doors, windows or arches. “They are my portals to elsewhere,” she said. “When I’m in bed, when I can’t move, I look out of my window and imagine myself out there. I like being outdoors.”

The images are uncomfortable and deformed, but there is optimism, a strange equilibrium of what might be considered ugly and beautiful. Body parts surrounded by butterflies. Too many hands counterbalanced by birds and ghosts, black and white charcoal drawings incorporating splashes of real gold. All of them speak of a deep need to understand our own bodies, how they work and why they sometimes don’t. The style of the artist is unique and instantly recognizable, and that is what Dyck teaches aspiring artists – she offers classes at community centres and retirement homes. “I try to teach my students how to find their own voices,” she said.

One of the most interesting examples of Dyck’s art is an installation called “Bed Desk.” Dyck explained its etymology.

“I promised the gallery a sculptural installation, but then I became very sick and couldn’t leave my bed,” she said. “My husband is a builder. He made those wooden stands that surround the circular space and act as frames for my drawings. He also made me a bed desk where I could draw while in bed, but I could only create pieces of the same shape and size as the desk surface. I channeled my longing to move, to feel strong into those drawings. The figures I drew are broken, like me, but they move, they grow, they adapt and evolve. The installation was funded by a Canada Council for the Arts grant. When you step into its circle to view the drawings, you enter your own portal to elsewhere.”

Dyck’s show will be at the Zack Gallery until Oct. 1. To learn more about the artist and her work, visit her website, amyjdyck.com.

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].

Name inspires artist’s work

Growing up in Vancouver during the 1960s and ’70s, I was the dancer, my brother was the guitarist and my sister was the writer, soon to blossom into a visual artist as well.

Devorah Stone, my sister, is one of the contributors to this year’s Calling All Artists exhibit, which opens at Victoria’s Congregation Emanu-El on Aug. 26. Since the early 2000s, the mostly annual event has celebrated artists of many kinds – sculpture, ceramics, textile, poetry, mixed media, fabric, music – who offer their interpretation of a rabbinical or biblical text that they’ve studied with the synagogue’s spiritual leader, Rabbi Harry Brechner.

photo - Devorah Stone created a honeybee circle for this year’s Calling All Artists exhibit, which opens at Congregation Emanu-El Aug. 26 — Devorah Stone created a honeybee circle for this year’s Calling All Artists exhibit, which opens at Congregation Emanu-El Aug. 26. (photo from Devorah Stone)

“This year’s theme is ‘animals’ and since my name means ‘Honeybee’ in Hebrew, I went with that,” Devorah told me. “The bees in my work are all hand-felted, a technique that involves pocking at wool and shaping the form. I decided to present the bees in circles because they are so crucial to the circle of life.”

The artists’ works are up for six months in the shul’s social hall. Devorah has been involved with the event for the last 10 years. Rabbi Brechner gives a lecture on the theme and how it pertains to Jewish traditions, sacred writings and thought once a month for five months before the celebration. This year, his teaching focused on the significant symbolic and ritual roles animals play in Jewish texts.

“I’ve learnt so much about both art and Judaism attending the rabbi’s lectures,” said Devorah. “Anyone can join … you don’t even need to be Jewish.”

The Calling All Artists project is run by self-proclaimed “den mother” Barbara Pelman. She said there is a chapbook written every year with an explanation of each artist’s creative process and a copy of that is given out to guests.

“In last year’s Calling All Artists, I did the kohain gadol’s (high priest’s) breastplate with references to all the various colour and gem stones as described in the Torah,” said Devorah. “The only difference was the mannequin I used was a woman’s so I pretended that there might have been female priests at the time of the Temple!

“I’ve also done a collage of a person wearing a tallit and the burning bush, a three-dimensional piece of the Rosh Hashanah dinner, and another collage on a wooden cradle of the story of Abraham and Isaac.”

Devorah has always been fascinated with art.

“As a child, there was nothing better than a box of crayons and endless paper,” she said. “I drew space ships, planets and alien worlds. I also drew castles and princesses. I loved it. My imagination had no limits.”

In her 20s, Devorah spent four years at the University of Victoria, earning a bachelor of fine arts. All the while, she felt inspired by Emily Carr and Indigenous art.

“I loved the way Carr personified nature and her magnificent trees,” she shared. “I marveled at the complexities, elegance and craftsmanship of the First Peoples of the land.”

Our parents also brought us up with a strong Jewish identity.

photo - Devorah Stone — Devorah Stone *(photo courtesy)*

“Being Jewish, I was taken by the imaginative work of Chagall, his goats and houses and how everything seemed to be floating or suspended,” said my sister. “Later on, I began to be influenced by the school of Bauhaus design, especially Kandinsky, his calculated and yet whimsical designs.”

After Devorah moved to Victoria 20 years ago, she joined the Pandora Arts Collective Society. The group exhibits its works at the Little Fernwood Gallery twice a year and Devorah recently sold a painting there.

The collective is a community of people whose mandate is to facilitate and support mental health through the social and educational benefits of a free and welcoming creative arts space. The studio is open to everyone: professionals, students and beginners. The atmosphere is especially sensitive to people who are using art therapeutically. Devorah is on their board and has planned events for them in the past.

“We inspire and mentor each other,” she said. “I have learnt so much about art from that group. I’ve been introduced to many different kinds of art and artists, as well as being influenced by so many artists in our synagogue. The joke is that you can’t throw a rock without hitting an artist in Victoria!”

When she was living in and around Vancouver, Devorah brought up three children, two of whom live in the Lower Mainland. She visits all of us frequently and spends a lot of time on the ferry.

“I love doing fast sketches of the scenery as it goes by,” she said. “I also do fast sketches at outdoor concerts and festivals, which Victoria has so many of.”

Devorah uses pencil crayons, acrylic paint and watercolours, creates collages and sometimes three-dimensional art made out of whatever she can find.

“I love experimenting and I feel that all my art is influenced by being Jewish,” she said. “It all has a profoundly Jewish way of seeing nature and of being.”

The best way to view Devorah’s art is through Instagram @devlovesart.

Cassandra Freeman is a journalist and improviser who lives in East Vancouver.

Pride in his Jewish identity

Brian Gleckman in front of his work, “The Judgment of Solomon (Psak Din: Judgment).” Psak din is a ruling given by a beit din, a Jewish court. (photo by Olga Livshin)

Brian Gleckman’s first show at the Zack Gallery, Abstracted Identity, opened on June 18.

The artist has loved art since childhood. “I grew up in Los Angeles,” he said in an interview with the Jewish Independent. “It is a vibrant city for visual arts. There are an endless number of art galleries and museums, and I was always there. And, of course, I always drew and painted.”

After getting his degree in visual art and history from California State University, Gleckman traveled extensively around Europe, before settling in Vancouver more than 30 years ago. But traveling has remained his passion and, during his travels, he invariably focuses on art and art history, museums and galleries.

“When I first visited Europe, I fell in love with Rococo and Baroque,” he said. Baroque and Rococo are both highly ornamental styles, which infused the art and architecture of post-Renaissance Europe.

Later, he drifted towards more contemporary styles, both as an art connoisseur and in his own work. “I suppose I can call my art abstract expressionism,” he said.

“Colour for me is a vehicle that allows me to play with shapes and space,” Gleckman explained. “Spatial relationships and composition of the images are of the utmost importance to me. I’m also concerned with depth and texture. I aim to create visual tension in my paintings. I think art shouldn’t be too easy or too comfortable. I want my viewers to engage, to ask questions. ‘What did he mean by that?’ ‘How does it make me feel?’ My viewers might not arrive at the same inner realization I conceived, but their explorations are more important than my answers. When people interact with my art, they become part of the creation process.”

With his current show, Gleckman seeks to “portray things that lie beyond the tangible – that is, beyond the figurative, beyond the readily recognized narrative. The paintings in this exhibit are expressions of the inspiration I derive from biblical stories, religious thought, as well as rudimentary ideas within kabbalah. Selected from the portfolios of my professional artwork, these paintings are reflections of how I personalize the intangibles of Judaism.… These paintings are abstractions of my Jewish identity, an identity that is the product not so much of formal religious practice but the summative effect of intellectual and emotional sensibilities of my Jewishness.”

Of course, the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver, which is home to the Sidney and Gertrude Zack Gallery, felt like the perfect venue for such a show, but there was an additional reason why Gleckman wanted to exhibit at the Zack.

“After Oct. 7, I wanted to do something that had meaning,” he said. “I wanted to share my pride in my Jewish identity. At the same time, I wanted to be part of the effort to help Israel, to make my own contribution. But I am an artist. I create art. I thought maybe my art could inspire someone to do something for Israel, to help in some way.”

He approached the gallery with the idea of a show and offered to donate any proceeds from the sales of his paintings.

“I’m going to donate whatever I get to two organizations: ASI-Canada (Association for the Soldiers of Israel), which supports active-duty IDF soldiers, and Magen David Adom, which is Israel’s emergency response service. To promote the sales, I’m also offering 30% discount off my website prices for all my paintings.”

The exhibit comprises 27 paintings from several of Gleckman’s established series. “For this exhibition, I have included paintings that are accompanied by titles … for fuller comprehension,” he said.

“The titles invite viewers to search for and reflect on the nuances of their own understanding of the selected stories, themes and ideas,” the artist explained. “I’m not trying to dictate my own interpretations to viewers. Instead, with the titles, I try to nudge viewers in the right direction. The titles are sort of guidelines for understanding the images, their conceptual representation.”

image - “Yerushalayim (Jerusalem)” by Brian Gleckman. The Hebrew words in the painting are from Psalm 137: “If I forget you, O Jerusalem, may my right hand forget ... if I do not bring up Jerusalem at the beginning of my joy.” — “Yerushalayim (Jerusalem)” by Brian Gleckman. The Hebrew words in the painting are from Psalm 137: “If I forget you, O Jerusalem, may my right hand forget … if I do not bring up Jerusalem at the beginning of my joy.”

Most of the titles are in Hebrew, spelled phonetically in the English alphabet. Some are in English, but they represent Jewish customs and stories. For example, the large painting “Tikkun Olam” is a field of life-affirming blue, while “Shiva” is bleak and dark, a painting of grief and despair, but both will generate different feelings for everyone.

A few other paintings are linked to grief and death, but many sport bright colors, like “Aytz Chaim” – blue and gold and triumphant – which proclaims the artist’s vision of the Tree of Life. The painting, tall and narrow, is framed by golden words.

Another tall and narrow painting, “Tefillah” (a prayer), contains this one word in Hebrew, as well as 10 bright gold stars dancing on the blue background below, representing a minyan, the quorum of 10 men (in Orthodox Judaism) or people needed for Jewish communal prayers.

Another painting with words and colours woven together is “Yerushalayim.” Its golden-brown palette is reminiscent of the ancient city of Jerusalem, its modernity and its millennia of history, including conflict.

Then there are calligraphed Hebrew letters, each magnified manifold on its own black and white canvas. “Their shapes are still recognizable,” said Gleckman, “but I wanted to explore the possibilities, the situation where something we know becomes something else, something to investigate and find a new meaning.” Each of these letter-paintings is like a road, curling capriciously according to the letter’s design, leading the viewers towards the unknown.

Abstracted Identity runs until July 18. To learn more, visit the artist’s website, briangleckman.com.

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].

Windows into the shul

The Beth Israel Mural Project goes beyond the synagogue’s parkade, with a website that features each artwork, as well as information about the holiday depicted, and more. (screenshot)

Windows into the synagogue, windows into Judaism. The Beth Israel Mural Project features 13 works of art, each based on a Jewish holiday. Adorning the shul’s parkade, they welcome visitors.

“During COVID, Sy Brown started the Good Times Club at the BI. The goal was to bring in new programming into the shul for the over-50 crowd,” explained project manager Reisa Schwartzman. “We have had blood drives, book clubs and walking clubs. I came up with the idea to do a mural in the garage.

“At first, the idea was to do one large mural. The challenge was that there are parking signs that could not be removed so it motivated us to think out of the box a bit. The smaller framed murals allowed it to have the effect of being windows into the shul.

photo - Ramona Josephson was the lead artist on one of the two murals portraying Shabbat — Ramona Josephson was the lead artist on one of the two murals portraying Shabbat. *(photo from Beth Israel Mural Project)*

“The next steps were to call out to the congregation to see who would like to participate. At this time, all meetings were held on Zoom due to COVID. Once the committee had the members, we then went out to the congregation – we wanted the entire membership to feel included, to see what they wanted to see in the garage. The overwhelming feedback was the holidays.”

Volunteers were assigned a holiday and the committee helped with each image. “This is when the real work began,” said Schwartzman. “But, up to this point between COVID and summer holidays, it was two years.

“With Peter Sarganis, an amazing artist himself but also an art teacher, he guided us on the steps required to take our wonderful images through the multiple steps to get each image on the boards. Once the boards were ready to go, we met each Sunday afternoon for painting for several months. There were committed painters who would come in during the week to work as well. This was a labour of love! The energy in the room when we were painting was fabulous. Focused artists and painters working together to bring these works to fruition.”

Sarganis answered the callout to members because, he said, “As an artist, I thought it would be a creative way to combine my love of Judaism, the Beth Israel Synagogue, collaboration and painting.”

Sarganis became the project’s art director and a lead artist and designer of one of the two Shabbat works.

“I love Shabbat. From Friday evening family dinners; to Shabbat morning services; to the candles, wine, challah and artifacts used – I can simply say I love it,” Sarganis said of his choice of holiday to portray. “The Shabbat panel I designed and painted is an abstracted representation of our family’s candle holders, Kiddush cup and challah cover.”

About the project, he said, “We had a wide range of expertise, from those who don’t paint at all to those who paint a lot. The common thread that kept us going and made this a beautiful group to be a part of was everyone’s passion for the project.

“As a professional artist and someone who has taught at a fine arts school for the past 29 years, it seemed the role of me becoming art director happened organically, it was not something that was there at the start of the project,” he added. “This included helping the designers of the panels with their designs, bringing in tools and equipment to help facilitate the transferring of the designs onto the large panels, advising the groups of painters on the painting process and/or techniques, figuring out (with Reisa) the placement of the panels in the parkade.”

“I really believe that we can beautify the most simple areas to make them more impactful,” said Schwartzman. “Having these windows in the garage makes the experience of going to the BI start right from parking your car. But we didn’t stop there. Krystine McInnes came up with the idea that we should add QR codes to each image so that people could open their phones and learn more about each holiday, the customs and history. We hope we can use these to fight antisemitism as well, or just to help educate. We decided to paint on boards rather than the wall itself so, if needed, we could have them traveling.

“One thing different about our art is that none of the pieces are signed. This was with the commitment that the works were collective, designed and inspired by several artists and painted by the community we built. It is a community effort for our shul.”

While the lead artists aren’t indicated on the murals in the garage, they are credited on the project’s website, bethisraelartproject.com: Beryl Israel (Purim and Tu b’Shevat), Sheila Romalis (Hanukkah), Ramona Josephson (Rosh Hashanah, Sukkot and Shabbat), Debby Koffman (Simchat Torah), Janice Masur (Shavuot), Luca Carati (Yom Hashoah and Yom Yerushalayim), Nassa Selwyn (Pesach and Yom Kippur) and Adele Lewin (Simchat Torah). In addition to the QR code integration, McInnes designed the project website, which features information on the holidays, their history and customs from several sources, including work done by Jean Gerber and Jonathan Berkowitz and a dozen or so websites.

The paint was donated by Benjamin Moore Paint and the boards and framing by Burton Mouldings, said Esther Moses, Beth Israel executive director. Ralph (z’l) and Elaine Schwartzman donated to help make the project possible, she said.

“My parents believe in supporting our community and have always been supporters of several Jewish agencies here and abroad,” explained Schwartzman. “Once they heard about what I wanted to do, my mom called the shul and made a donation to make sure we could complete the project. Supporting the shul, the arts, community and engagement for people are all reasons they stepped forward.”

image - Beryl Israel was the lead artist on the Tu b’Shevat mural — Beryl Israel was the lead artist on the Tu b’Shevat mural. *(photo from Beth Israel Mural Project)*

“I am so proud of Beth Israel and our members who worked on the murals. They are strikingly beautiful,” said Rabbi Jonathan Infeld, the synagogue’s senior spiritual leader. “They bring light to our congregation and are a great educational tool. They brought people together for an important common cause. The murals are another way that we help bring Jews closer to God, Torah and Israel at Beth Israel.”

While he helped, for example, with the Hebrew on one of the works, Infeld admitted, “I am involved in many different aspects and programs of the synagogue, this is one that I did not play a large role in though. Yes, I helped with some of the Jewish content. But anyone who knows my artistic abilities knows why I left this project to others to accomplish.”

The project – which took a total of three years from conception to installation – “was a great way to add colour to our parkade in a meaningful and Jewish way,” said the rabbi. “The murals are educational and exceptionally beautiful. But, most importantly, they created community amongst people of all ages.”

Overall, it has been a huge success, he said. “People love seeing [the murals] when they enter the parkade. They love looking at them and learning from them. I know that the participants loved making them.”

“This project was really a labour of love by all who participated,” agreed Schwartzman. “Peter was incredibly supportive with his knowledge and guidance. There were so many amazing artists that we all learned from each other, helped each other and celebrated together. We really hope that these images bring the shul much enjoyment and support them in any of their programming when possible.”

“This project took a lot of time and work – and was worth every moment,” said Sarganis. “I met some wonderful people, and got to know people I already knew even better. A beautiful community project.”

The art of creating ketubot

Mordechai Edel beside the personalized ketubah he created for A.J. and Olena Steigman; A.J. is a chess champion and Olena is a classical pianist. (photo from Mordechai Edel)

Vancouver artist Mordechai Edel is one of a handful of people in Canada who make ketubot (singular: ketubah), the standard contract for traditional Jewish marriages, which have been used for millennia.

“I was trained as an impressionist artist, from which I developed the philosophic concept of ‘impression-mystic’ art,” Edel told the Independent. “Hopefully, this contributes in a small way to ‘marrying’ wedding contracts with art and harmonizing the opposites of heaven and earth, chiaroscuro [the use of strong contrasts of dark and light], fire and water.”

While the central theme of a ketubah is constant – an obligation on the part of the groom to provide for his bride – their designs can vary immensely, and each one designed by Edel tells, in its way, a separate story. He has been creating ketubot for 40 years.

“I often incorporate a stylized menorah symbol, which reflects the potential marriage of all humanity uniting together under G-d’s joyous chuppah canopy of shalom [peace and wholeness],” he said.

A kosher ketubah requires precision and documentation, especially regarding Hebrew names, marriage location and dates. Ketubot are usually written in Aramaic, in calligraphic style, and halachic (Jewish legal) requirements allow little room for embellishment.

“Not much fun there,” said Edel of the creative possibilities. “However, ‘the fun’ may begin with the surrounding artwork. That’s when personal requests start to kick in. I am often requested to incorporate ‘painted stories,’ illustrating romantic memories of how a couple first met.”

In the past several years, Edel has received numerous ketubah requests from local rabbis, including a “standard house model” developed with Rabbi Andrew Rosenblatt of Congregation Schara Tzedeck.

“Occasionally, some people do still enjoy elaborate weddings, which tend to generate requests for more personalized, sometimes eccentric artwork,” said Edel.

Depending on the couple’s budget, the creative detail of a personalized ketubah can vary substantially, from minimal artwork to the most elaborate designs, he said.

Edel can take several weeks to paint a personalized ketubah, although sometimes it can “just click” and he can finish one in two to three weeks. Ideally, couples planning on getting married would contact him as soon as possible, to give him as much time as possible.

Often, he said, the biggest challenge is to receive accurate place, name, date and time information. Sephardi ketubot do not permit any erasures, whereas Ashkenazi halachah (Jewish law) allows changes before the contract is signed and validated by two kosher witnesses, he explained.

Edel shared an experience that happened during a Sephardi wedding in the mid-2000s. He had painted a calla lily ketubah for a couple that had met in Acapulco, replete with a romantic sunset and a ship setting sail for Jerusalem in the background.

“Guess what? The night before the marriage, the rabbi checked the ketubah and there was one letter, ‘vov,’ missing in the Hebrew spelling of Vancouver. I was told it was invalid, it could not be rectified and was void,” Edel recalled.

The solution, Edel found, was to physically cut out the contract part, leaving the surrounding artwork, forming a window. He then spent the entire night rewriting the document, which he then inserted, forming a two-part ketubah.

“This negative-into-positive transformation has become a trademark blessing that I now incorporate into all commissioned ketubot,” said Edel. “And, in case of a last-minute error or wine spill, all ketubot come with a duplicate backup document.”

Along the way, Edel has received some unique ketubah requests. One couple, who had encountered a skunk on their first date in Stanley Park, asked that the scene be recreated in the marriage contract.

“I had difficulty finding a stinky model who would sit still,” Edel recalled. “That turned out to be a most scentimental ketubah.”

Another couple commissioned a grandiose, oil-on-canvas ketubah to fit over their fireplace. At the wedding ceremony, the three-foot-by-five-foot ketubah was carried into the sanctuary. The audience stood up and, according to Edel, let out an enormous communal “wow!”

Some of the more exceptional commissions Edel has seen have come from far afield. He recently completed a request that arrived “out of nowhere” from American businessman and professional chess player A.J. Steigman and his bride Olena, a classical pianist. They got married at the Western Wall (Kotel) in Israel and the ketubah features the groom (chatan) playing chess on a Vermeer-style chessboard with the bride (kalla) playing a Shostakovich concerto, all in the foreground of the Kotel.

Edel has also refurbished ketubot. In one instance, he was commissioned by the son-in-law of longstanding Schara Tzedeck members to “enhance” their original 1948 marriage certificate for their 50th anniversary. He created a ketubah “with memories of leaving the shtetl in sepia tones, transported into modern times via heaven’s kohanic [priestly] blessings, and embellished with a gorgeous bouquet of their favourite, fragrant rose flowers.”

One of Edel’s ketubot, “Le Picnique,” began as a painting commissioned by the late Joe and Rosalie Segal to be viewed by residents and staff at the Louis Brier Home and Hospital. “It later developed into a ketubah as a joyous tribute to this wonderful, caring couple,” said Edel.

Edel is grateful for the many blessings he has received in life, and gives special thanks to his wife, Annie, who helps design the ketubot.

“It is humbly interesting to note that the surname Edel means fine and noble, whereas a play on words of Mordechai suggests the French amour de chai or love of life,” Edel said. “It is this joyous love of life partnership that characterizes our ketubot and relationship between G-d, bride and groom and artist.”

For more information about Edel’s art and his ketubot, visit edelartworks.com.

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

Art helps bring us together

The current show at the Zack Gallery, Community Longing and Belonging, brings together a range of artists and styles. Pictured here is Alejandra Morales’s “A Landscape of Consumable Dreams.” (photo by Olga Livshin)

The current show at the Zack Gallery, Community Longing and Belonging, which opened Feb. 21, is the sixth annual exhibition in celebration of Jewish Disability Awareness and Inclusion Month.

The exhibit was organized by the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver’s Inclusion Services and curated by Shelly Bordensky, the program’s coordinator. Most participating artists are either members of the JCC program or similar ones in other localities, like Aspire Richmond. These initiatives support people with developmental disabilities through various creative endeavours.

The Zack show’s creative displays consist of paintings and pottery. While the size, media, colour palettes and framing of the works are all different, the underlying theme is the same: we all want to belong, we are all together on this planet.

Two paintings reflect that theme not only in their content and method of execution, but in their titles as well: “All Together 1” and “All Together 2.” Both works are cheerful and colourful, rendered with the abandon of the primitivism style. Cats and birds frolic on the canvas without regard for one another or for rules of perspective. Both list the artist as Art Hive, the visual art division of JCC Inclusion Services.

Bordensky told the Independent that both paintings were group pieces, created by several people. “Each artist added an element – a cat or a bird – and our wonderful art instructor, Kim Almond, made sure they all matched in style and colours.”

According to Almond, 13 artists, all members of Art Hive, participated in each painting.

“Mark Li and Andrew Jackson started off the two collaborative paintings for the group, and it was a great project to work on as a class,” she said. “Colours were a huge part of the process, as the artists were always striving to create that special pop of colour.”

Another example of group art is the pottery creations – playful little animals, solemn hamsas (hands) and juicy pomegranates – crowding several stands around the gallery.

“These ceramic pieces are all Raku ceramics by the pottery artists who are members of our Art Hive,” said Bordensky. “Together, we can create so much.”

Individual artists’ paintings are also on the theme of community.

Alex Lecce’s untitled piece is a slice of a neighbourhood street with a pie shop. The colours are realistic, and the image captures a quiet, everyday moment. We all go there, the artist seems to say. Those pies make our lives happier and more flavourful. They unite us in our humanity.

On the other hand, Alejandra Morales’s painting, “A Landscape of Consumable Dreams,” is jarring in both the colour palette and the structure. This painting screams of discord. There are two disparate parts in the image. The top part is a tangled bunch of flowers, all in beautiful, greyish lilac hues, intertwined and elaborate. The bottom part is a vague human figure bowing to the pretty flowers. The colours of the figure are harsh, grating; they don’t fit with the flowers. But the figure obviously wants to fit, just as we all want to fit in with our surroundings. The complexity of the juxtaposition of humans versus nature is unmistakable.

Other paintings are not as complicated. Mami Zimmerman’s “Best Friends” features two ponies. Its simplicity is charming and lovely. We all want such friends.

image - Mami Zimmerman’s “Best Friends” — Mami Zimmerman’s “Best Friends” *(photo by Olga Livshin)*

Calvin Ho’s painting “Nuts” is another example of primitivism in the show. The bright depiction of a squirrel and a woodpecker is reminiscent of picture books from our childhood. Bold lines and primary colours underscore that feeling. The two creatures are playing tug with a nut. Or maybe they are sharing it. Or fighting over it. The innocence of the picture invariably induces a smile.

image - Calvin Ho’s “Nuts” — Calvin Ho’s “Nuts” *(photo by Olga Livshin)*

In contrast, Merle Linde’s powerful landscape – “BC Wildfire 2023” – doesn’t invite smiles. The painting, its red and black scheme grim and scary, reminds us of the horror of the wildfires that affect our forests every year. The tragedy implied in the painting unites us, just as the sweeter emotions in other images do.

In a telephone interview with the Independent, Linde said: “I’ve always enjoyed art, from the day I could hold a pencil. I liked going to art shows, too.” Mostly self-taught as an artist, she said she only started painting seriously after she retired.

Judaica is one of the directions she explores in her art. To date, the Independent has used two of her paintings for its cover: for the 2023 Passover issue and for the 2022 Rosh Hashanah issue. Occasionally, she teaches classes for seniors in various artistic techniques.

Merle Linde’s “BC Wildfire 2023” *(photo by Olga Livshin)*

“Acrylic pour is a fascinating technique,” she said. “You pour the paint and let it spread as it will without a brush, and then wait till it dries. That was what I did for the background of the ‘Wildfire’ painting. I made it a few years ago. When I saw the news about the wildfires last summer, I picked up a brush and painted the black burned-out tree skeletons on top. I have two such paintings, but there was only space for one in the Zack show.”

Most of the paintings in the show express themselves at first view. However, Gail Rudin’s “Out for the Hunt” raises questions. It portrays four seemingly perky owls on a merry, greenish background. One could assume a light-hearted company of friends on an outing, until one notices a line of tiny mice scurrying away in terror in the very bottom of the picture. Suddenly, the entire image changes its meaning, illustrating the unavoidable conflicts within nature, where the hunters and the hunted coexist. Despite the constant danger of the wild, nature somehow always finds its balance. Maybe, as humans, we could take lessons from that.

Community Longing and Belonging is on display at the Zack Gallery until April 2.

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].

Art sale for Israel

“Jerusalem Market, 1959,” watercolour and pencil, by artist Pnina Granirer, a graduate of Bezalel Academy of Art and Design in Jerusalem. Granirer will have a table of her artwork for sale in the atrium of the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver on Dec. 3, 10 a.m.-3 p.m., as part of the Chanukah Around the World party marketplace. The works will be unframed, priced from $100 to $500, with all proceeds being donated to Israel, in the hope that the donation will help it in its hour of need. For more on Granirer, go to pninagranirer.com.

The party is a joint event with multiple community partners: King David High School, Vancouver Talmud Torah, Richmond Jewish Day School, PJ Library, Camp Miriam, Jewish Museum and Archives of British Columbia, and the Kollel. In addition to the marketplace, it will feature games, iSTEAM activities, food, arts & crafts, museum displays, entertainment throughout, a community singalong and a JCC membership sale. Visit jccgv.com/jcc-chanukah-carnival.

Culture Crawl starts Nov. 16

Suzy Birstein is one of the many Jewish community artists taking part in this year’s Eastside Culture Crawl Visual Arts, Design & Craft Festival, which runs Nov. 16-19. (photo by Britt Kwasney)

The 27th annual Eastside Culture Crawl Visual Arts, Design & Craft Festival takes place Nov. 16-19 and features almost 450 artists, including many from the Jewish community. Among the community members opening their studios to visitors are Suzy Birstein, Olga Campbell, Hope Forstenzer, penny eisenberg, Robert Friedman, Lori Goldberg, Lynna Goldhar Smith, Ideet Sharon, Stacey Lederman, Shevy Levy, Lauren Morris and Esther Rausenberg.

“We welcome the public to dive back into the Culture Crawl this fall to experience and be inspired by our artists’ growth and discovery. [The pandemic] has been a time of change for many of us and I believe art is a conduit for moving forward together,” says Rausenberg in the event’s press release. Rausenberg is a photo artist, as well as artistic and executive director of the Eastside Arts Society, which puts on the Crawl.

The Independent spoke with a few of the participating Jewish artists about what visitors to their studios can expect to see, and whether creativity is a place of refuge or if it is harder for them to create in times of conflict, including but not limited to the Israel-Hamas war and the war between Ukraine and Russia.

Visitors to Birstein’s studio will see her “figures from fired clay infused with aged and lustred surfaces, which inspire paintings in oil, cold wax and collage.”

The artist is currently working on two series, which will merge into the solo retrospective at Il Museo Gallery, curated by Dr. Angela Clarke for 2025.

“Both series evoke my art/travel adventures to Europe, Mexico and Cambodia,” said Birstein.

“‘Ladies-Not-Waiting’ reference the gazed-upon women by old master painters – Velasquez, Fouquet and Manet – alongside self-portraits painted by masterful female artists, Frida Kahlo, Leonora Carrington and Leonor Fini,” she said, while Tsipora (her Hebrew name, meaning Bird) is a series of loose self-portraits, which “embrace an exotic earthiness living within my poetic imagination.”

Both bodies of work, she said, “speak to nesting and transcendence, the mirror and reflection and celebrate the individual and universal.”

For Birstein, in times of conflict, “be it COVID, warfare, personal challenges – the only thing that centres me, coming directly from within me, is the creative refuge of my studio and making art. As I say this, I must stress that the love and compassion I feel for and receive from my family, friends, students and peers is the other half of that equation. I can’t imagine one without the other and I am extremely grateful.”

Friedman describes himself as “a muralist-styled stained glass artist.” He has worked in stained glass for more than 40 years and has recently added a blown glass dimension to his work, according to his website, which is also a recent addition.

“My studio is a great place and haven for creative thought and output,” he told the Independent. “[T]hese troubled times just [add] more impetus for me to have it reflected even more so in my artwork.”

Goldberg also finds herself more driven.

“My work is about vitality, life, vibration forging connections and bringing two opposing energies together as a way to find potential for resolution,” she said. “I have a responsibility as an artist to respond. I am more motivated. Expressing ‘Heaven on Earth’ is one way I respond to pain and suffering.”

Goldberg had a three-month residency on the North Shore, which she spent painting the forest – work that studio visitors will see.

“I was recently reading the book Speak for the Trees by Diana Beresford-Kroger about how the roots of the trees, the mycelium and plants and trees talk to each other,” said Goldberg. “By painting in the forest, I learnt how to listen, experience the tranquility, vitality and interconnectedness of the forest and to myself.”

Since the spring, Goldhar Smith has been “creating minimal colour-field style landscapes based on the idea of the shape of light and the colour of shadows,” she said. “The paintings are rendered in soft blues and pastels or deeper mysterious tones and suggest memories of places real and imagined.”

She acknowledged, “The conflict in Israel has, of course, been enormously upsetting and I find myself in despair for both sides of the conflict. My paintings do not yet reflect these emotions, but they will in coming months. I don’t yet know what I will be painting but I will be exploring more difficult terrain.”

For Forstenzer – a glass artist and director of the Sidney and Gertrude Zack Gallery – creativity can be a place of refuge, but also more challenging in times of conflict.

“Making work when I’m feeling the stress of all that’s going on personally and globally is truly healing,” she explained, “but when I’m feeling overrun with those things, it can be a lot harder to fully concentrate at times.”

Lately, Forstenzer has been making glass clocks, something she describes as “incredibly fun.”

“I can experiment with colour and pattern in the glass, and I’ve learned a lot about clockwork mechanisms, which is also an exciting thing to dive into – I’ve been down many rabbit holes online about clockmakers,” she said. “I’ll have a bunch of clocks on display and for sale at the Crawl.

“I also have spent a lot of the last year generally playing with colour and pattern,” she added. “I’ve made vessels – vases, bowls, cups – that experiment with a particular colour or look or pattern or stripe in glass. Once I have a colour process in place, I often go on to use those colours, patterns and processes in sculptural pieces. Since I’ve done so much experimenting this year, there will be a lot of pieces on display and for sale at the Crawl as well.”

In addition to opening their studios, Forstenzer and Birstein are part of the Crawl’s juried exhibition, which has the theme “Out of Control.”

“At a time when we start to celebrate our freedom from pandemic restrictions, it’s an opportunity to reclaim experiences that were denied for so long, a chance to think outside of the box and just let go,” says Rausenberg in the press release.

The exhibition features the work of 80-plus Eastside artists and takes place at multiple venues: Alternative Creations Gallery and Strange Fellows Gallery (both until Nov. 19), the Pendulum Gallery (until Nov. 24) and the Cultch (until Nov. 25).

For more information, visit culturecrawl.ca.

Share delight of letters

“Shabbat Saskatchewan,” by Esther Tennenhouse. Part of Otiyot (Letters), a joint exhibit with her son Joel Klassen, which is now at the Zack Gallery.

Colourful and playful, dark and ominous, Esther Tennenhouse’s artwork is engaging and thought-provoking, as she offers her take on Torah and midrash, immigration and language, orthodoxy and modernity. Otiyot (Letters), an exhibit she shares with her son Joel Klassen, opened at the Zack Gallery last week.

Tennenhouse’s sense of humour, curiosity, imagination and sincerity come through in the work on display, and in her responses to questions about the exhibit.

“Ot means ‘letter’ (of the alphabet) – it also means ‘sign’ and ‘signal,’” she told the Independent. “It was my first choice of name for the show: Ot – Starring the Letter Shin. Sounds like ‘ought,’ as in ‘thought.’ Ot was visually terse (and sounds adorable). That was why it was Ot in [the] JCC program book – I had to provide that bit before these pieces were made! Yikes! But it got changed to the longer plural in Hebrew and lost its zap. More truthful, though, as I have so many (too many) words of explanation on the wall beside each piece.”

All the works were made specifically for the exhibit, said Tennenhouse, “only for this place, for anyone who happens to walk into the JCC,” where the Zack Gallery is located.

“I was driven by my own relationship to the alef-bet: me, a quite secular, second-generation, Winnipeg-born Jew living in Vancouver, of prairie-born parents, who learned my aleph-bet as a child, quite long ago. I think many like me, with my sort of education, walk by these gallery doors, so I thought they might wander in and relate.”

Born and raised in Winnipeg, Tennenhouse went to Talmud Torah there from age 4 to 11, then to public school. She earned a bachelor’s in English and, while working at the Winnipeg Free Press, majored in sculpture at the University of Manitoba School of Art.

She moved to Aklavik, in the Inuvik region of the Northwest Territories, and then to Yellowknife, where she learned about ceramics at the Yellowknife Guild of Arts and Crafts. She later worked with translucent clays.

Moving with her family – husband Ron, son Joel and daughter Timmi – to Vancouver in 1995, Tennenhouse found a home at Or Shalom, participating in the Talmud and Torah study offered there, reengaging in Jewish education after a break of some 45 years.

Klassen also attends Or Shalom. His art background includes having drawn at home and working with painter Sylvia Oates – who he describes as a mentor – in her Parker Street studio. Klassen has had a one-man show in artist Noel Hodnett’s Parker Street studio, and he was in the Kickstart Disability Arts and Culture’s 2019 group show Nothing Without Us at the Cultch. For the past four years, he has attended the JCC’s Art Hive, which is facilitated by Kim Almond.

Klassen’s Hebrew letters and drawings are in five of the pieces at the Zack Gallery, said Tennenhouse.

“Making letters as individuals, each with their own character, was the most fun to do,” she said. “Jan Wilson, a friend and quilter, offered to help if I drew out the correctly sized letters backwards for transfer and picked the fabrics.”

The letters comprise eight of the works on display, and offer much to think – and smile – about. Klassen’s aleph is filled in with leopard print fabric, surrounded in black with a flowered border. The word “wild” comes to mind as one looks at it, not just the wildness of animals and nature, but of human beings. The piece is called “Aleph in the Garden.”

photo - “Aleph in the Garden” by Esther Tennenhouse, Joel Klassen and Jan Wilson — “Aleph in the Garden” by Esther Tennenhouse, Joel Klassen and Jan Wilson.

“I did not shy away from diversity,” said Tennenhouse. “It’s sort of an underlying element. I felt the show had to offer something to any individual, whatever their history with the alef-bet, and it deals with very well-trodden themes. I felt a need for an element of surprise, which is one reason why Joel’s aleph became a leopard in the garden (of Eden?).”

A last-minute addition to the depictions is one of the 12 new letters for gender-neutral word endings that were created by Israelis graphic designer Michal Shomer a few years ago.

“They appeared in welcome signs outside schools and on IDF buildings, etc., but the kabbalist idea of the power of the alphabet lives on – the new letters were vigorously rejected by religious factions,” said Tennenhouse. “‘Changing the letters removes any kedusha (sanctity) the words have or any ability the words have of channeling God’s energy into the world,’ said sofer Rabbi Abraham Itzkowitz. ‘This project essentially makes Hebrew like any other language.’ Some of the signs were taken down. Religious schools were forbidden to use them.”

That said, Tennenhouse told the Independent, “What first tickled me into this aleph-bet project was the poetry and passion of the ideas of the early mystics. They conceived of letters of the alef-bet existing even before the creation of the world – all 22 were vessels of the divine, all things were created by their combinations. Meditative/ecstatic kabbalah taught that individual letters were something to meditate upon, which led to ecstasy, one of the steps to sense of union with G-d. American calligrapher Ben Shahn, who titled one of his books Love and Joy About Letters, quotes the 13th-century Rabbi Abulafia, who said the delight in combining letters is like being carried away by notes of music.”

Tennenhouse and Klassen’s “Shir” (song, poetry, chant, in Hebrew) is truly delightful, like a page out of a children’s book. A multimedia piece, it depicts several animals and the sounds they make, both in Hebrew and in transliteration, though the giraffe just “hum[s] at night.”

Two other works are striking, both on their own and in contrast to each other: Sinai 1 and Sinai 2.

photo - Detail of "Sinai 2" by Esther Tennenhouse and Joel Klassen — Detail of “Sinai 2” by Esther Tennenhouse and Joel Klassen.

The latter features three bright yellow flowers, surrounded by green. “It is a triangle canvas which is about the mountain bursting into bloom when Moses came down with the Ten Commandments – this was a midrash from the 1500s. The triangle has flowers by Joel. I asked him to put flowers on it, envisioning little flowers here and there – he just went swoosh woosh on it.”

Sinai 2 is a vertical rectangle with whites, greys and blacks depicting a furious ball of activity on top of the mountain that includes the Hebrew letters.

photo - "Sinai 1" by Esther Tennenhouse — “Sinai 1” by Esther Tennenhouse.

“The Torah tells of fear, awe, the shaking mountain, seeing sounds, lightning, Moses’ anger, the breaking tablets,” said Tennenhouse. “Looking back, I overburdened the canvas [with] anger, though laying on the 231 Gates – a diagram from the Sefer Yetzirah which shows each letter combining with each other letter of the alef-bet – because I see the story of the giving of the Torah as a sort of creation story for our intense embrace of literacy. The diagram relates to Rabbi Abulafia’s talk of combination of letters but distracts visually from the anger/violence, [the] mountain, fear.”

There is so much more in this exhibit.

“Cursive Handwriting: Kovno Testament” is a stark, unfinished work, featuring the words, written in his own hand, of Lithuanian writer Eliezer Heiman, who died in the Kovno ghetto during the Holocaust. It was to have three more samples of cursive, said Tennenhouse. “I left room for them before I put on the image of Heiman’s tablets. Those spaces stayed empty. Everything else edited themselves out because of what happened in Israel on Oct. 7.”

There is the multimedia triptych “Shabbat Saskatchewan,” which Tennenhouse said “is me trying to use real photos and documents to create some presence of my mother’s grandparents and parents.”

“It ended up being centred on great-grandmother Esther Dudelzak Singer, Baba Faige (Fanny) Singer and my mother with her sisters,” she said. “Yiddish was their mamaloshen (mother tongue) and the Sonnenfeld community was religiously observant.”

“The Owl and the Pussy Cat” adds colour and vibrancy to Edward Lear’s black and white drawing of his nonsense poem, the Yiddish translation of which – by the late Marie B. Jaffe – fills the two side panels of this triptych. Tennenhouse couldn’t find much information out about Jaffe, she said, “But, thanks to Eddie Pauls at the Jewish Public Library in Montreal, [I] learned she immigrated to New York in 1909 from Lithuania.”

Tennenhouse began to see the owl and the cat in their boat as sailors braving the rough seas, traveling around the world to find “Di Goldene Medine,” “the Golden Land,” America.

“You might say ‘Saskatchewan,’ too, is about leaving home, traveling across seas and finding a new place but keeping your language and culture,” said Tennenhouse.

Otiyot (Letters) is on display at Zack Gallery until Nov. 12.