2015 ADDENDUM 1

I LLUMINATIONS The Art of Samuel Bak

Facing History and Ourselves www.facinghistory.org

Study for Micro and Macro

his painting might just as easily have been called “Search for Explanations,” beginning with our own quest for the source of the creative urge that prompted Bak to identify the fatal fruit of Eden as a pear instead of an apple. Since the Book of Genesis refers Tonly to “the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil,” Bak was free to shift his viewers’ consciousness from the all-too familiar symbol of an apple to the unsettling vision of a sus- pended half-eaten pear. This fresh metaphor then becomes less a reminder of original sin than of the legacy of an imperfect world, whose symmetry and harmony have been marred by some vast unseen contagion in the universe—the object of Adam’s search —or a tiny hidden defect in the flawless pear that Eve holds in her hand. The telescope and the magnifying glass are the instruments of their inquiry, but we are not made privy to the results of their investigation. Certainly they are not destined to travel far with the rickety vehicle on which Adam stands. Is human life itself an ongoing hunt for an understanding of the mystery that makes the social and moral ideals of civi- lization unreachable goals? Astronomy and nanotechnology are the two disciplines behind the activity of Adam and Eve in this work, and perhaps merely striving to know more is a sufficient virtue, one that the painting celebrates. It is called a “study,” and its subject is “studying,” which declares its artistic mission and the challenge to its audience. Adam ignores and Eve is shielded from the eaten fruit, the curse of original sin, and perhaps this is enough to liberate them from a theological burden into a secular world that encourages knowing rather than guilt. Accepting the rewards and the limits of this pursuit may be enough to justify their difficult existence.

Study for Micro and Macro, 2010 Mixed media, 25 ½ x 19 ¾” 2 2015 ADDENDUM

Adam and Eve and the Arduous Road

hen Adam and Eve begin their journey in Genesis “eastward of Eden” after their expulsion from Paradise, they have no clue about what lies before them. Loom- ing above Eve’s head in this painting is a hanging pear, Bak’s version of the for- biddenW fruit whose “mortal taste,” as Milton reminds us in Paradise , “brought death into the world and all our woe.” But who could have foreseen the variety of woes that mankind would encounter as it pursued its voyage from biblical narrative to the modern era? We would like to see the expression on Adam’s face as he beholds the landscape of disaster before him, but the artist prefers to let our imagination conjure up the look of bewilderment and despair that clouds his vision as he wonders where his next step might lead him. Unlike Adam, Eve turns toward us, apparently holding an infant in her arms, though her expression is no clearer than her husband’s. Milton had told us that as they left their idyllic garden, “The world lay all before them, where to choose/Their place of rest, and Providence their guide,” but such consolations seem to have vanished from Bak’s scene. We see instead a broken signpost offering blank information, its wooden triangles pointing in opposite direc- tions—no help at all. Is that blanket of pears intended as a source of nourishment or a remind- er of past transgressions? There are no clear answers to the ambiguous questions that this work raises, but there are hints that lead us toward some visual and mental clar- ity. The splintered pole of the sign- post forms the Hebrew letter “vov,” while the wooden panels attached to it may be read as the letter “gimel”— the “v” and “g” that represent Bak’s traditional signature for the Vilna Ghetto. The smoke and flames in the distance, and the twin chimneys dimly visible beneath them, evoke a holocaust that neither God nor his human creations had envisaged at the birth of the expulsion legend. But it hovers on the horizon, casting an ironic shadow over the Miltonic idea Adam and Eve and the Arduous Road, 2010 Oil on canvas, 18 x 24” that these travelers might ultimately choose their place of rest, with Providence their guide. 2015 ADDENDUM 3

Suggestions

ith its surface drained of all color, the pencil sketch of Suggestions leaves us with a triple portrait in black and white, a trio of flag-waving orthodox Jewish enthusi- asts who, because of the unity of shading, blend in with their surroundings. They appearW to be posed behind each other, and as with so many other works in the series From Generation to Generation, the dominant lead figure towers over the other two, who because of their smaller stature seem to be his supporters or successors rather than his equals. Has the passage of time (as the series title implies) reduced their status in the world of religious ortho- doxy? , a kipa-clad subordinate, must stand on a flimsy wooden crate to escalate his presence. They wave fragments of banners in celebration of a ritual we cannot understand, while their leader alone pronounces a blessing over invisible multitudes–if they exist. But since the torn banners are striped, like the flag of Israel and the garments of concentrator camp inmates, maybe we are witnessing a ritual of mourn- ing rather than a celebration, a blessing in commem- oration of the dead. One of the unique features of numerous Bak creations is the absence rather than the presence of meaning, leaving to the viewer the task of identifying the activity represented by the artist’s vision. Spread across the foreground of the sketch are barely discernible open volumes, presum- ably filled with ancient Jewish lore that would help us to interpret the religious roles of the sages before us. But like so much else in the drawing, we have no clue as to their content. Although the work’s title, Suggestions, may offer a playful hint from the artist, it is also an open invitation to his audience to pro- vide their own analysis of what they see. The pos- sibilities then become limitless, the boldest among being that the hand gesture is not a blessing but a greeting: perhaps our three Jewish holy men are rejoicing at the fulfillment of a sacred prophecy— they are welcoming the arrival of the Messiah. Suggestions, 2015 Pencil, 14 x 11” 4 2015 ADDENDUM

Study for Today’s Candlelight

hylacteries (or tefillin) are small square leather boxes containing brief biblical verses that observant Jewish men attach to their foreheads and left forearms during morning prayers. They are connected to leather thongs that are wound around the arm. In this Ppainting the second leather box is missing, and part of the strap seems engraved on rather than wound around the forearm. Some consultation with historical memory is required to recall that the Germans—could it have been accidental? —chose the same site on which to imprint for the new arrivals in the death camp of Auschwitz. The stripes on the prayer shawl and arm are enough to remind us of this physical violation of human anatomy, and of spiritual identity as well. The purpose of the ebrewH verses is to remind devout Jews to keep God’s law; the Ger- man intention was to mock it. Is the aged praying Jew seeking to purify his soul, to oppose in his mind “today’s candlelight” of the work’s title to the encompassing darkness of the German past? If so, why is the candle misplaced? It should be outside the cup (badly damaged, we note), and the spoons (one also broken) on the inside. The spoons are bound as if imprisoned by a tightly twisted rope, which contrasts with the loose folds of the tefillin’s leather straps, intended to free the spirit and unite it with divine will. The viewer is forced to in- habit both worlds, focusing on a foreground crowded with challenging images and denied the relief, a common feature in many other Bak paintings, of a panoramic landscape and a cerulean sky. Still unresolved is the fi- nal mystery of why candlelight should be for “today”; shouldn’t it rather be for “tonight”? And finally, since this is “just” a “study,” and not the completed version, we are left to wonder what more might be added to endow this complex canvas with further implication.

Study for Today’s Candlelight, 2015 Oil on canvas, 12 x 16” 2015 ADDENDUM 5

Study for a Full Cup

his blazing variation on the well-known allusion in the 23rd Psalm to a cup that “run- neth over,” which traditionally grants praise to the Lord for a surfeit of blessings, here greets the viewer with an unsettling challenge: what if the cup “runneth over” with a Tsurfeit of woe rather than bliss? An incandescent glow bathes the landscape with the heat and flames from a volcanic eruption that has already destroyed all signs of human life. The vacant remains of the buildings that once housed its occupants, with their empty windows that stare at us like blind eyes, intensify the desolation of the scene. Who once dwelt there, and what explains their fate? Bak’s iconography, which includes a giant question mark near the center of the painting, introduces a visual mystery for which there is no easy solution. Instead of containing a sooth- ing drink that might quench the spiritual thirst of its audience, the colossal cup pours forth liquid lava that threatens any form of human encounter. Is it simply an aberration of nature that ignites this panoramic ruin, or is that dark descending cloud a harbinger of divine fury, an ironic contrast to the cloud from which a car- ing God descended to Moses on Mount Sinai? If those wrecked structures are intended to remind us of the remnants of ghettos during the Holo- caust, then a more somber vision of mankind’s spiritual destiny rises before us, a solemn alter- native to the Psalmist’s comforting world where “the Lord is my shepherd.” Rather than revealing meaning, Bak’s paint- ings unveil possibilities, leaving to his viewers the task of discerning and exploring them. Implicit in the title is the sense that the artist himself intends to enrich his vision, since a “study” is usually des- tined to be followed by a more complete version of the original canvas. How this might appear is left to us to determine; we too participate in our own kind of “study,” faced with the paradox of a world that offers us at the same time the memory of the Psalmist’s surplus of spiritual joy and the artist’s Study for a Full Cup, 2013 current landscape of physical ruin. Oil on canvas, 12 x 12” 6 2015 ADDENDUM

Concept

oving from Study for a Full Cup to Concept requires a disturbing journey from the concrete to the abstract. Here there are no evident biblical references, nor are the significance of the shapes readily accessible to the imagination. A seemingly Mrandom assemblage of geometric forms dominates the central space of the painting: cubes, prisms and a truncated pyramid. These items nearly smother the central image of the work, a cup whose handle is a question mark and whose oval rim struggles to achieve coherence from a series of disconnected arcs. This is a modernist visual symphony composed of lines and curves from which emerges not a familiar natural phenomenon like a volcano but a fragile mountain- like structure shorn of its peak—a sign that something has damaged the integrity of the origi- nal edifice. Only the power of art could transform a cup that “runneth over” into one that is overrun by the leftover fragments of an unknown collapse. To rebuild a broken world, to reestablish harmony amidst disorder, to understand the need for hope despite the promptings of despair—these are all challenges that a mind concerned with the ravages of history in our time will eas- ily grasp. But instead of a desolate landscape of rubble, Concept offers us a colorful scheme of curves and lines that regales the imagina- tive eye with multiple possibilities. The group- ing’s upward thrust suggests that it may even be floating free, in search of an undetermined destiny, since we have no way of knowing whether it is attached to a stable base. The background of an unruffled sky echoes its rich blue tones, with no natural threat in sight. Its true subject thus may be the mystery of how art manages to uncover beauty even within the apparent visual confusion of the prospect be- fore us.

Concept, 2013 Oil on canvas, 12 x 12” 2015 ADDENDUM 7

Inverted

t first glance Inverted resembles Concept with its jumble of unrelated objects forming the vague shape of a loosely integrated pyramid. It is held together not by geomet- ric curves and lines, however, but by a display of colors, a visual grouping in which certainA items share their hues with their adjacent neighbors: the distant mountain reflects the sky, the blue-capped pear mirrors the fragments of banner, the wooden frame that seems cut to embrace the profile of the pear and the band encircling it echo the orange shades of the letters of HOPE, and the tilted green goblet imparts its tint to the top of the inverted bottle, which after careful inspection could be mistaken for a similar vessel, to the base of the fruit. Even the small cup blends into the light brown tone of the nearby stone. When we consider the tension between the unity of color and the chaos of form, we won- der whether the languishing letters of HOPE will ever succeed in rising above their crestfallen state. Even the central image that dominates the painting, the gigantic pear, leaves us doubt- ing whether it will ever regain the perfect symmetry and ripeness of its original condition. The inverted floating wine bottle, in violation of the orderly laws of physics, is a stark emblem of something amiss at the heart of the natural universe. The undamaged pear and goblet in the foreground may be nostalgic reminders of a sim- pler and more innocent way of seeing and being that is no longer available to the imagination. If hope once sprang eternal from the human breast, there is little evidence before us that its resurrec- tion will be an easy matter. The surrealistic Dali- like image of the upside-down bottle should not be allowed to distract us from a different very real inversion that the painting portrays: the let- ters of HOPE should be proudly displayed at the summit of this intricate symbolic scenario. Why they are not is a question that members of Bak’s audience must still struggle to understand.

Inverted, 2014 Oil on canvas, 12 x 12” 8 2015 ADDENDUM

Study for a Conversation

series titled Hope may mislead viewers into believing in the certainty of a better future– though it is doubtful whether the artist would encourage such an option--or lead them through a more nuanced visual exploration of the value and limitation of such a convic- tion.A The silent dialogue in this “study,” apparently a conversation between a turbaned Arab and a kaftaned Jew, leaves to the imagination its explicit content, making members of the audience active participants in the interpretation of the scene. We bring to such effort our own sense of the decades-long encounters between these parties, alternately futile and full of promise. Successful agreement between contending factions, whatever the subject, requires a delicate balancing act; here the letters of the word do not easily assemble into their familiar unity. One spokesman holds the “H,” the other the “P”; he also sits on the “E” (possibly a piece of whimsy?) while his companion supports the “O” on the tip of his finger to keep it from collapsing on the ground. Spread across the foreground are bundles of pages, but they only tempt us to guess the meaning of their illegible scrawls. One might think of the unsuccessful Oslo Accords, which tried to get both sides to embrace each other’s existence as a step toward permanent peace. Restoring hope to a world riven locally and globally by hostility and violence is no small task, and there is no way of telling whether the discussion/ argument depicted in this work will reach a cordial frui- tion. Meanwhile the letters of HOPE play a waiting game as their sponsors try to solve the puzzle of the elusive in- timacy that keeps them lingering in their uncompleted state. At least we are viewing a literal “hands-on” meeting rather than an impersonal quarrel, increasing the chance that these rivals may succeed in restoring some practical meaning to that intangible theoretical word.

Commentary by Lawrence L. Langer Lawrence L. Langer was born in New York City and educated at City College of New York and Harvard University. He is Alumnae Chair Professor of English emeritus at Simmons College in Boston. Among his many publications are The Holocaust and the Literary Imagination and Holocaust Testimonies: The Ruins of Memory, as well as six volumes of commentary in collaboration with the artist Samuel Bak. Study for a Conversation, 2014 Oil and crayon on paper, 12 x 11”