Winter, 1942
A death march preceded this peaceful snowy scene in the frozen woods of Poland in the shadow of Auschwitz. Evidence of footsteps and articles of clothing left behind in the freshly fallen snow are the only signs that life passed through here. This painting is one of a series on the changing seasons during the horrifying years of the Holocaust.
Gate to Heaven
Rabbi Ezriel Tauber, a survivor, and a prominent Rabbi in Monsey, New York, related a story from a concentration camp that shook me to the core. So much so that I was inspired to paint it. It is a story of victory of spirit. The Nazi’s, in their effort to not only break the bodies, but the spirit of the Jewish people, put a “paroches”, the covering of an ark from a synagogue where the Torah scrolls are housed, over the door to gas chamber. This was meant to mock the poor souls who were to enter that door. Instead, the Jews, upon reading the inscription on the “paroches”, broke into singing and dancing as they entered the chamber of death. The confounded Nazi’s couldn’t quite understand this sudden joy in entering that door, which meant certain death. Not until it was explained that the words carried special significance to the Jewish people. They read:” This is the gate to G-d, the righteous will pass through it.” The meaning of those words were not lost on the Jews, who were able to read them.
The Hidden Faces
My paintings are of nature, of flowers, of mountains and hidden sheltered houses; hidden houses, hidden places where those who needed it so desperately could go. Hidden places where one could be safe from danger.
Faces in the Forest
They were running through the forest, escaping with their new identities in their pockets. Suddenly she tripped. Her leg was broken- she could no longer go on. She begged the others to keep going, and her husband too. As he sat down near his wife, he blessed the others and told them to go on. He handed one of them a coin. That man was the only one to survive in the end. The loyal husband carried his wife back to the labor camp as she continued to implore him to leave with the others. He would not leave her and he shared her fate at Sobibor soon after. I had, as a little girl, always felt that somehow they were hidden in that forest and that somehow the great forest had concealed them, sheltered them and fed them and one day they would be found.
Journey to Freedom
Before the war, during the war, after the war...life was divided into these three time segments. These were life’s reference points. Before the war, their lives had been filled with spirit, with love and with family. During the war, their haunted hollow eyes revealed their fear, their vulnerability and their pain. After the war, their lives were euphoric, having survived a true hell and emerged. These are the faces that begin to have color, that begin to believe that it was truly over. They settled on American shores, forever grateful to this country for providing them a safe haven to begin their lives again with renewed courage. Love of their new home was unending, the flag an everlasting symbol of that new relationship.
If I Forget Thee Jerusalem
The ancient words written by King David in Psalms, (Psalm 137), are carved into the wrought iron gate which is supported by the earthly, blackened Jerusalem stones mined from the hills around the Holy city. The heavenly skies beyond the gate represent our longing for the days to come when the Messiah will renew our Holy Jerusalem and rebuild its Temple.
Moment of Peace
A lull in the endless bombing revealed the donning of tefillin and talleisim, if only for a moment. Facing Jerusalem, the soldiers, their hearts in unison, proclaim the oneness of G-d under the endless morning sky.
Prayers in the Wall
It is a tradition to put handwritten little notes, with the names of loved ones or one’s deepest prayers written on them, and insert them into the deep, ancient, crevices in the Wailing Wall.
A Place to Weep
Rachel, the Matriarch, is buried on the road to Bethlehem, apart from the other Matriarchs and Patriarchs, who are buried in the tomb purchased and prepared by the Patriarch Abraham in Chevron. All the thousands of years, her tomb was desolate and alone. On the road to Babylon, during the first exile, after the destruction of the Holy Temple two thousand years ago, the throngs of Jewish exiles from the land of Israel passed Rachel’s Tomb, and stopped there and wept. It is believed, that even today, when the Jewish people cry she cries with them too. She feels the sorrow of her children and can pray for them. She, alone, remains on the side of the road, shedding many tears for her children, who continue to this day to approach her tomb in times of sorrow and hardship. She is the quintessential representative for the Jewish people in their long exile.
