Lisa Calevi
Season of Joy: Venetian Sukkah Panels in the Age of the First Emancipation
Following a brief overview of diverse sukkot from around the world, my talk focused on an iconographic comparison of the 1826 panels with the only other known examples of Venetian sukkot: four panels owned by the Umberto Nahon Museum of Jewish Art in Jerusalem, and ten panels owned by and--curiously--displayed in a Benedictine abbey south of Padua. While minor stylistic similiarities were noted, the 1826 panels nonetheless suggested a unique narrative at work. At the time of their production, ideas about liberation and national identity were rising to the forefront of political discourse, inspiring the so-called Romantic artists of the period (of which Eugene Delacroix--and his Liberty Leading the People--is but one example). The panels suggested to me an iconographic connection to liberation themes specific to the Jewish community of Venice during the first three decades of the 19th century. The Drowning panel's prominent depiction of Miriam (a figure symbolic of joyous redemption), the Manna panel's focus on the hardships facing the Jews in the forty years following the Exodus, and pointed references to life in exile within the the panels' Hebrew inscriptions implied strong allusions to (then) contemporary Jewish life. Although Napoleon "officially" liberated Venetian Jews at the end of the 18th century, the years between 1797 and 1815 were tumultous ones. The introduction of French reforms granted Jews important new rights, these were then partially revoked under Austrian rule, and later reinstated during subsequent periods of Napoleonic and Hapsburg domination. Just as Sukkot commemorates the four decades of hardship which followed liberation from Egyptian enslavement, by 1826 a certain measure of liberty had also been achieved by the Jews of Venice, even if it would not be fully enjoyed for another four decades. The sukkah--as a potent symbol of both joyous liberation and uncertain status--provided Venetian Jews with a fitting stage on which to project their experiences during a time of pivotal change. The true narrative of the 1826 sukkah panels seemed to express these sentiments: rejoice in your liberation but recognize the trials that still lie ahead.
Finally, based on a supposition developed in my presentation regarding the use of light rays to identify the figure of Moses (as opposed to the more typical, if erroneous, stylistic idiom of horns), an interesting discussion among conference attendees ensued as to whether or not the artist of the panels might possibly have been Jewish himself (given that among the new liberties enjoyed by Venetian Jews during the years of French reform was the right to study at the Art Academy of Venice). This represents an exciting possibility and one which I intend to investigate further.
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I. INTRODUCTION
Sukkot, one of the most joyous of Jewish holidays, commemorates the desert wanderings of the Jews following their exodus from Egypt and is celebrated in early autumn.1 For the duration of this seven-day holiday, the Torah commands each Jewish family to eat its meals, study, and even sleep in a sukkah (plural, sukkot, meaning booth or tabernacle).2 These booths, intended to symbolically represent the makeshift dwellings that sheltered the Jews during their forty years in the desert, are central to the observance of Sukkot.3 No special guidelines exist for their construction, except that they be four-sided and feature a thatched roof made of greenery or branches.4
By the late 16th and early 17th century it was not uncommon to find decorated sukkot. Leon da Modena, in his Historia de' Riti Ebraici (1638) writes of one such sukkah "covered with green arboreal branches, [and] surrounded on all sides with the best embellishments one can provide."5 Inside the sukkah, Jews practice simple rituals involving the blessing of the four species: date palm, myrtle, and willlow--collectively known as the lulav--and citron, called the etrog.6 To some, the implementation of these objects recalls the ancient agricultural dimension of the holiday7, when it was called the "Feast of the Ingathering".8
A sukkah can be built anew each year or dismantled and re-used over successive years. Though many sukkot have been dispersed or lost due to their ephemeral and portable nature, the precious few which do survive offer fascinating insights into Jewish ritual practice and thought. 9 Two painted panels from one such sukkah can be found in Venice, and provide a compelling frame through which to view the city's early 19th-century Jewish community.
The panels, of probable Venetian origin, date from 1826; until now, no attempt has been made to place them in their artistic or historic context.10 Accounts given by present-day members of the Jewish community of Venice indicate that the panels were once displayed in the atrium courtyard sukkah of the Scuola Spagnola, though they are not believed to be original to this Venetian synagogue.11 Eventually, they were placed in storage for safekeeping during World War II12 and, over the intervening years, deteriorated to such an extent that they became unfit for use. Following the death of Alberto Mortara, esteemed former president of the Comitato per il Centro Storico Ebraico di Venezia, members of this committee decided to honor his tenure with a restoration13 of the panels, completed in 1992.
At the outset of my research, I intended to examine Jewish community donation records in order to determine, if possible, the circumstances surrounding the original ownership of the panels and their eventual donation to the Scuola Spagnola. However, the indefinite closing of the Renato Maestro Library and Archive has unfortunately made that impossible.
Before addressing the panels in further detail, it becomes important to illustrate, briefly, how sukkot vary in form and style. In 2003, the Israel Museum of Jerusalem presented an exhibition entitled "Movable [sic] Feast", assembling a comprehensive array of artifacts, ornaments, textiles and sukkot from Jewish communities around the world.14 The displayed sukkot spanned the centuries, represented both Eastern and Western traditions, and showed a staggering variety of both the materials and content employed over time: the sukkot of Uzbekistan, for instance, once featured braided willow-branch entrance arches, and were scented with wreaths of mint and basil; Iraqi sukkot displayed white interiors, given the use of cotton curtains, embroidered upholstery, and perforated lacework that covering their wooden frames and grillwork partitions; finally, in the Samaritan tradition, the sukkot were decorated with a rich variety of vegetables and fruit (including the four species), arranged in geometric patterns.
Historically, differences in period, culture and social standing of the Jewish family whose sukkah it was to become, determined its appearance. In Europe, where autumn can be rainy and cold, weather conditions also played a role.15 For instance, a miniature model of a Dutch sukkah dating from the second half of the 19th century16 shows it resembling a kind of wooden hut, with walls that kept out the chill, and a folding roof useful in the event of rain.17 Structures like these were typical of Jewish communities in Germany and Holland, where the most elaborate of them were painted.18 Among the most famous of the surviving painted wooden sukkot is the one once belonging to the Dellar family. Produced in the village of Fischach, in southern Bavaria, it dates from the mid-19th century. Painted scenes from this sukkah feature a depiction of Jerusalem, images of local scenery and citizens, and a portrait of Mrs. Deller standing by the door of her home.19
In addition to the sheer diversity of the surviving sukkot, a fascinating array of objects relating to the celebration of the holiday also exist, although they remain beyond the scope of this paper. Two of the most interesting are found in Italy, and include a third or fourth-century glass fragment believed to depict sukkot in the courtyard of the Temple in Jerusalem (now part of the Vatican Museums collection)20 and a well-preserved early-19th century silver etrog container, currently on display at the Jewish Museum of Venice.21
Illuminated manuscripts also depicted the celebration of Sukkot. One of the earliest examples comes from a late 15th-century northern Italian mahzor (Jewish festival prayer book),22 and testifies to the predominately vegetal ornamentation employed during this period. In it, the head of the family is shown seated in the sukkah, raising the Kiddush cup. In an early 18th-century example,23 a Portuguese Jewish family is shown enjoying a festive meal in their sukkah. The sumptuousness of this elaborate sukkah is made evident by the silver candelabra hanging from its beautiful dome, and by the crown of garlands forming its roof.24
A late 18th-century Dutch work shows a far simpler, and more public sukkah.25 Indeed, it was customary for synagogues to erect a sukkah for those families who could not afford their own. A remarkable example of one such structure can still be found in a room adjacent to the women's gallery in Venice's Scuola Canton. Built in 1858, the sukkah features an octagonal, retractable hinged roof and was used by the Jewish community for nearly a century. 26 Restored in 2006 through the efforts of Save Venice, the sukkah is expected to be on public view by 2008.
II. SUKKAH PANELS OF THE VENETO
Let us once again turn our attention to the two Venetian sukkah panels, which date from 1826. An analysis of these two panels presents an important and timely opportunity to contribute to a broader understanding of Venetian sukkot traditions, especially in light of the recent restoration of the Scuola Canton sukkah. The titles of the two panels are given as (1) Moses and the Drowning of the Egyptian Army in the Red Sea and (2) The Falling (or Gathering) of Manna. Both paintings are executed in tempera and measure approximately 150 centimeters high by 100 centimeters wide. 27 Unfortunately, the panels reveal little about their painter, other than showing his stylistic affiliation with the 19th-century scuola veneta.28 It is also unclear whether, originally, there were more than two panels commissioned or produced, but the likelihood is high that there were.29 Given that a sukkah must accommodate several people, surely these two panels would not have sufficed to ornament the entire structure.30
Further, two nails, still found on the upper right side of the Drowning panel may indicate that the panels once had frames (perhaps made from stucco, typical of the period).31 This would have produced an unusual three-dimensional effect, as the panels already feature narrow, illusionistic window frames around each narrative scene. Another group of painted sukkah panels employing the pictorial device of simulated windows can be found at the Umberto Nahon Museum of Italian Jewish Art in Jerusalem.32 These four panels, dating from the late 18th century and originally belonging to a branch of the Sullam family of Venice, depict, once again, The Drowning of the Egyptian Army in the Red Sea; The Falling (or Gathering) of Manna; Moses Receiving the Ten Commandments on Mount Sinai; and Moses Striking the Rock. The effect of the simulated frame is more evident in these works than in the 1826 panels, though in both cases the realistic depiction of light and shadow within the frame is well executed. It is curious that, in addition to the shared use of an illusionistic window frame, both sets of Venetian panels include the Drowning and Manna scenes. Given the similarites, it becomes important to determine whether these four stories possibly represent a kind of a standard narrative common to sukkah production in the Veneto.33
A unique assembly of ten painted sukkah panels dating from circa 1730 and of probable Veneto origin would seem to suggest otherwise. The panels, which can be admired in the Abbey of Praglia outside of Padua, were first acquired by this Benedictine monastery in 1956, and restored in 1988. The restoration, conducted by the same firm responsible for that of the 1826 panels, revealed evidence of at least two and perhaps three hands at work, as well as multiple surface transformations (and in some cases, mutilations) to the panels. As a result, original provenance has been particularly difficult to ascertain, although the name of one artist, Giuseppe Graziani (1699-1760), has been put forward as having had a possible role in their execution.34
The panels illustrate scenes from the life of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Aaron, Joshua, David35, Mordechai, and Eli, and passages related to the Passover and Sukkot narratives.36The pictorial devices seen in the Abbey's panels differ from those once belonging to the Sullam family, and from those dating from 1826. In six of the ten panels, ornate baroque frames enclose each narrative; in the remaining four, a plain, rectangular wood or gold-colored fictive frame is used to highlight the scenes. This would suggest that the ten panels, though grouped together today, were not commissioned at the same time.
A comparative look at the three surviving examples of sukkot from the Veneto might lead one to argue that Venetian sukkot place a special emphasis on biblical scenes set on the water, but this hypothesis remains speculative at best.37 While the Drowning episode is found in both the Sullam family panels and in those from 1826, it is treated quite differently in each. In the former, the drowning of the Egyptian army seems to occur in the Venetian lagoon (where buildings typical of Venice are visible). In the latter, where no buildings appear, it is the figures on shore that predominate; an explanation for this will be suggested shortly. The scene of the Drowning is notably absent from the Abbey's ten panels. In fact, water appears in only two of them: Melchisedec Blesses Abraham and Eli Taken to Heaven in a Fiery Chariot.38 An explanation for this may lie in their possible provenance. The panels now owned by the Abbey were found in the attic of a carpentry studio located in the Eugenean hills, south of Padua. Though conjecture, it is theoretically possible that the panels were painted by or for citizens living in that area of Venetian terrafirma, where water was not the overriding presence in daily life that it was in the lagoon. Indeed, when we consider the other two sets of panels where the sea features more prominently, we find stronger ties to the city of Venice itself, and a possible explanation for the more common occurence of scenes on or related to water.
III. THE 1826 PANELS: MIRIAM AND THE THEME OF LIBERATION
In the case of the 1826 panels, in fact, there may have been another, more significant narrative at work. At the time of their production, ideas about liberation and national identity were rising to the forefront of political discourse. These paramount themes were a highly popular source of inspiration for the so-called Romantic artists of the period. One need only look as far as Eugène Delacroix's Liberty Leading the People (1830) to find a semi-allegorical glorification of the idea of liberty.39 In the painting, Delacroix employs the well-known artistic technique of showing a rebel moving upstream, or against the wind. The figure of Liberty, whose half-torn clothing indicates that she has been--and still is--struggling for the liberty of the people she leads, is convincingly portrayed as unstoppable in her quest for that freedom.40
Given their date of execution, it seems appropriate to view the sukkah panels in context of broader liberation themes circulating at the time. Our analysis of the two panels begins with the depiction of the Drowning. Inscriptions found on the upper portion of each panel indicate their narrative order and correspond to the practice of reading Hebrew and--it turns out--the panels, from right to left. The inscription found at the top of the Drowning panel blesses those who enter the sukkah, and reads as follows:
Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has sanctified us with His commandments, and commanded us to dwell in the sukkah.
The first scene recalls the moment in which God instructs Moses, shown here clothed in a red vestment and blue sash,41 to extend his right hand over the sea, causing the waters to resume their natural course and drown the pursuing Egyptians. With this gesture, Moses appears to echo a verse from the Song of the Sea, one of ten Hebrew songs of redemption42: "...you stretched out your right hand, the earth swallowed them." According to tradition, there were two versions of this song; a male version and a female version. After Moses and the male Israelites finished singing, it was then the prophetess Miriam who picked up her tambourine and invited the women assembled nearby to join her in song with "Sing to the Lord for He has triumphed gloriously; horse and rider He has cast into the sea!" The panel therefore leaves little doubt as to the identity of the woman depicted holding a tambourine in her outstretched hand, especially as she is pictured adjacent to Moses and Aaron, her younger brothers. Indeed, Aaron's depiction at the scene of the Drowning is uncommon enough to suggest that he appears only as a visual device to identify Miriam as an important element of the painting.
Though Moses occupies a central and therefore prominent position in the composition, of the ten figures depicted (three of whom are shown holding, or near, tambourines), none is more animated than Miriam.43 Her yearning for redemption, and joy at its realization, are central to our understanding of the panel. Hence, the panel may now be more accurately understood as the jubilation experienced by the Jews following their liberation, and not the actual event of liberation itself (as exemplified by the drowning of the Egyptian army).44 As mentioned earlier, the scene of the Drowning is absent from the ten panels belonging to the Abbey. While the Drowning does appear in the Sullam family sukkah, I would suggest that it appears only to provide a convenient visual reference to the sea (and therefore to the Sullams, who resided in the Venetian lagoon). In fact, it is above all the scene's emphasis on Miriam that ties it to the Sukkot holiday. The parting of the sea and subsequent drowning of the Egyptians actually belongs to the narrative of Passover, the seventh day of which supposedly coincides with the anniversary of this dramatic series of events. It is Passover, then, that recalls the event of liberation, while it is Sukkot that celebrates the way in which the liberation continues, here beautifully expressed in song.45 Miriam thus becomes the very embodiment of joyous liberation, dramatically expressing the contemporary situation of Venetian Jews in her partially-nude state.46
As noted earlier, little is known about the painter's identity, though we can speculate about his religious affiliation. The Drowning panel shows Moses with two rays of light streaming from his head. Despite the fact that these faithfully represent the original Hebrew biblical passage47 (as opposed to the subsequent error made in its Greek translation) they still recall with jarring familiarity the standard pictorial device of horns48 used for centuries by Christian painters and sculptors (Michelangelo among them) to identify Moses.49 Given the accurate portrayal of Moses' here, it is tempting to see the hand of a young Jewish Venetian artist at work.50 Yet, it is also plausible that a Jewish artist would have considered these elements (light rays) as superfluous, knowing that Jewish visitors to the sukkah would have recognized Moses merely from the context of familiar, painted stories. Thus, the depiction of light rays--with their strong evocation of horns, a centuries-old artistic idiom (albeit, corrected here)--may actually suggest that the artist was not Jewish. In either case, further investigation regarding the painter's identity is surely warranted.
IV. THE 1826 PANELS: MANNA AND THE FIRST EMANCIPATION
Let us now turn to a brief analysis of the second panel. In 1797, with the arrival of Napoleon in Venice, the Venetian Republic disappeared forever, and with it the external vestiges of nearly three centuries of ghetto life. By order of the Provisional Municipality, the Jews of Venice were liberated by the following decree: "In order that there be no visual appearance of a separation between them and the other citizens of this city, let the gates be expeditiously removed which in the past closed off the Ghetto area."51 Soon thereafter, on July 7, 1797, historical accounts record the gates of the ghetto being publicly burned to the joyous cries of "freedom" among Jewish Venetians. Significantly, this important day ended with the re-naming of the ghetto to Contrada della Riunione (Neighborhood of Reunion) in order to "...destroy this unhappy stigma, for the name still carries a reminder of the former segregation."52 The exhiliration of this First Emancipation--this "manna from heaven" if you will--was short-lived, as the French handed the city over to the Austrians only a few months later.53 Indeed, by the end of January 1798, the Neighborhood of Reunion was once more known as the ghetto, even if the Jewish quarter would never again be enclosed by gates.
Like the ancient Israelites at the closing of the Red Sea, the Jews of Venice had been "officially" liberated, though it would be a long road to true freedom as subsequent Austrian rule (1798-1805) made clear. Though French reforms issued in the years between 1806 and 1815 allowed the Jews to own property, attend schools, and practice professions of their choice,54 new restrictions were introduced in the years following 1815, when Venice once again fell under Austrian domination.55
I would therefore propose that The Falling (or Gathering) of Manna expresses--on some level--the uncertainty experienced by many Venetian Jews at this time of great upheaval.
On the left, Moses (again shown with emanating rays of light) and Aaron are seen pondering the sudden appearance of the manna.56 On the right, three women, two in the act of gathering manna, and a third tending to two small children, are found; behind them, sixteen men, women, and children scurry about, collecting the heavenly bounty. Though a simple scene, the Jews' frantic collection of the manna in front of makeshift tents seems to call attention to the fears produced by their uncertain status in the desert. Basic questions such as 'What will we eat?' and 'Where will we live?' are answered visually through the depiction of the manna and tents, but are by no means reassuring. The manna was known to disappear at sunrise and there was always a possibility that the booths (or tents) would blow away. Even the sages Aaron and Moses are shown contemplating the situation with expressions of worry and doubt.
As if to reinforce this concern, the painter of the Manna panel seems intent on creating an allusion between the ritual dwellings of past and present. In fact, a conceptual link is drawn between the trials of the Jews' desert wanderings and the preoccupations of present-day Venetians who, through the illusionistic window frames of their sukkah, gaze upon the tents which once sheltered their forefathers.57 Indeed, the inscription found on the top of the Manna panel strongly suggests this.
The inscription contains the text of Psalms 42 and 43. In Psalm 42, we find an exhortation to those Jews who do not comprehend the loss of being exiled from their fathers' table. Jews are also asked to contemplate the great advantage they have had in being able to come to the Holy Temple three times a year, unhindered by adversaries.58 Psalm 43, on the other hand, alludes to the troubles suffered by unrighteous nations.59 In sum, it asks for God's will in sending both the prophet Elijah and the Messiah to reestablish the Holy Temple, so that Jews may once again bring sacrifices to the Lord. The inscription then ends with a date: "The first day of the month of Sivan, the year 5586 from the Creation" or June, 1826.
V CONCLUSION
For the Jews of Venice, the years between 1797 and 1815 were characterized by the introduction of French reforms, their later partial revocation under Austrian rule, and eventual reinstatement during subsequent periods of Napoleonic and Hapsburg domination. During this time, prosperous Jews slowly began to leave the enclosed familiarity of the ghetto,60 and gradually took their place in the city and society at large. In the years that followed, the social, economic, and urbanistic61 decline of the ghetto was significant. This occured in marked contrast to the joyous moments and seemingly rosy future--evoked, perhaps, by the Song of Miriam--earlier heralded by the destruction of the ghetto's gates. At the same time, it is easy to imagine that the Manna panel's reference to Psalms 42 and 43 was inspired by the dramatic transformation of the Jewish community of Venice in this same period.
Just as Sukkot commemorates the forty years of desert wandering that followed the Jews' liberation from Egyptian enslavement, by 1826 a certain measure of liberty had been achieved by the Jews of Venice, even though it would not be fully enjoyed, yet again, for another four decades. The sukkah--as a potent symbol of both joyous liberation and uncertain status--provided Venetian Jews with a fitting stage on which to project their experiences during a time of pivotal change. The 1826 sukkah panels express these sentiments clearly: rejoice in your liberation but recognize the trials that still lie ahead.
FOOTNOTES
1. Sukkot begins on the 15th day of the month of Tishrì, exactly six months after the start of Passover.
2. Leviticus 23:42-32 provides the source of this commandment: "You shall live in the sukkot seven days; all citizens in Israel shall live in sukkot, in order that future generations may know that I made the Israelite people live in sukkot when I brought them out of the land of Egypt, I the Lord your God." As Jeffrey Rubenstein observed in "The Symbolism of the Sukkah," Judiasm, Fall 1994, p. 1, it is the only commandment to involve a ritual dwelling.
3. The dwellings in which the Jews found shelter remains controversial. There is no description of a sukkah in the Bible. Indeed the term "sukkot" appears in Exodus (34:29-35) as the place where Jews set up camp upon leaving Egypt. Rubenstein, ibid, mentions the halakhic dispute over the form the actual dwelling took, as well. He points out that it would have been highly unlikely that Jews crafted their sukkot from branches, reeds, and foilage given the difficulty of procuring these materials in the desert. He further surmises that desert travelers would have stayed in tents, rather than booths. However, according to Zeev Meshel, "The Journeys of the Israelities in the Desert and the Corresopnding Commentary, " in Z. Meshel, and I. Finelstein, eds., Sinai in Antiquity: Research on the History and Archeology of the Peninsula, Tel Aviv, 1980, p. 18-71 (as cited in Rachel Sarfati, Movable Feast Exhibition Catalogue, The Israel Museum, Jerusalem, 2003, unpaginated), the lifestyle of the Bedouin tribes of the Sinai desert may provide some clues about the practices of ancient Israelites. Every autumn, the Bedouins descend to the desert with their flocks, where they live in huts or booths built from date palms. In this same period, the Bedouins celebrate the "Festival of the Date". He notes that similarities between this festival and that of Sukkot, including the prominent use of the date palm, suggest a possible ancient link between the two.
4. Julius Greenstein, "Jewish Feasts and Fasts" in Philip Goodman, ed., The Sukkot/Simhat Torah Anthology, Philadelphia, 1988, p. 61-64, observes that the walls need not all belong to the tabernacle; the wall of a house or fence could also be utilized. Leon da Modena in his Historia de' Riti Ebraici, Venice, 1638, notes that the "height, width, shape of the sukkot are determined by the rabbis" (translation mine). Irving Greenberg, The Jewish Way: Living the Holidays, New York, 1988, p. 99, writes that according to halakhic definition, "the sukkah...height may not exceed 20 cubits--about ten yards. Nor may it be lower than what is reasonably high enough to enter and live in, i.e. ten handbreadths of 40 inches--similarly it should be built well enough to withstand normal winds--but not so solidly that it withstands winds of unusual force."
5. Leon da Modena, ibid.
6. The lulav (date palm frond), hadass (myrtle bough) and aravah (willow branch) are bound together and collectively referred to as the lulav; the etrog (citron fruit) is kept separate.
7. The 12th century philosopher Moses Maimonides, writes in The Guide for the Perplexed, trans. M. Friedlander, London, 1904, p. 353-354."...the Four Species are a symbolic expression of our rejoicing that the Israelites changed the wilderness--'A place with no grain or figs or vines or pomegranates; there was not even water to drink' (Numbers 20:5)
--to a country full of fruit trees and rivers. In order to remember this we take the fruit which is the most pleasant of the fruit of the land, (the) branches which smell best, (the) most beautiful leaves, and also the best of herbs, (that is), the willows of the brook..." He continues: "...these four kinds have also these three purposes: first, they were plentiful in those days in Palestine, so that everyone could easily get them. Secondly, they have a good appearance, they are green; some of them, like the citron and the myrtle, are also excellent as regards their smell, the branches of the palm tree and willow having neither good nor bad smell. Thirdly, they keep fresh and green for seven days, which is not the case with peaches, pomegranates, asparagus, nuts, and the like."
8. The Pentateuch also refers to Sukkot as Hag ha-Asif (Feast of the Ingathering), an ancient agricultural festival that marked the end of the harvest season. Like Passover and the Feast of Weeks, Sukkot is one of three holidays when Jews were expected to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. The festival of Simhat Torah falls on the day immediately following the end of Sukkot, and marks the last day of the liturgical calendar and the completion of the annual cycle of Torah readings.
9. Though Jews are largely focused on the building and decoration of their booths at Sukkot, they once associated another custom with these annual festivities. On the last day of Sukkot (Hoshana Rabbah) Jews would look at their shadow, as cast by the moon. According to a superstitious belief dating from the Middle Ages, if the shadow appeared headless, it was believed that the person would die the following year (this custom is no longer practiced).
10. Brief mention is made of their existence by Luisa Mortara Ottolenghi in Midor Ledor: Vita e Cultural Ebraica nel Veneto, Bresseo di Teolo (Padua), 1989, p. 70: "...Assai simili alle tavole esposte sono invece le due 'pareti mobili' conservate presso la comunità ebraica di Venezia, unico resto della sukkah dipinta di una delle sinagoghe veneziane, forse la Scuola Canton. Queste due tavole, oggi inserite in strutture posteriori recanti la data 1826, sono illustrate con episodi della vita di Mosè e Aronne e sono di qualche anno più antiche [sic] di quelle di Praglia." More on the sukkah panels owned by the Abbey of Praglia to follow. The 1826 panels are actually more recentthan those owned by the Abbey, which date from circa 1730.
11. Comments made to the author in May 2007 by Professor Cesare Vivante, a Venetian Jew, in which he suggested that though the panels were indeed used by the Scuola Spagnola, they were probably donated to this synagogue and not originally made for it.
12. Comments made to the author by Professor Cesare Vivante, in March and April 2007.
13. The panels were restored by the Volpin family restoration firm located in Arré (Padua) under the auspices of the Soprintendenza per il Patrimonio Storico Artistico e Demoetnoantropologico di Venezia and the Comitato per il Centro Storico Ebraico.
14. The objects, drawn from the Museum's extensive holdings in Judaica and Jewish Ethnography and from public and private collections worldwide, were displayed from September 2003 to February 2004.
15. Sarfati, ibid.
16. From the Collection of the Jewish Historical Museum, Amsterdam.
17. Rachel Sarfati, Movable Feast Exhibition Catalogue.
18. Ibid.
19. According to Sarfati, ibid, many of the scenes in the sukkah are based on illustrations found in an 1826 prayer book published in Sulzbach, Germany. She notes, for example, that the depiction of Jerusalem was copied from a print made by Jerusalem artist Yehoseph Schwarz, published in Germany from 1836 onward.
20. Ancient Roman coins dating from the first and second centuries AD feature the lulav and etrog; the same symbols are also found in a painting from a third-century Syrian synagogue and on the mosaic floors of many synagogues excavated in Israel and dating from the fourth to sixth centuries. Medieval prayer books from 14th and 15th century Europe (primarily southern Germany and northern Italy) preserve many beautiful illuminated pages from the Sukkot celebration, including the detail of a Jew (in a pointed medieval hat typically worn by Jews of the period) holding a lulav and etrog. A northern Italian illuminated manuscript dating from circa 1470 shows a similar depiction of lulav and etrog, held by a man in a prayer shawl. For a more complete description of these and other works, see Joseph Guttman, "Sukkot and Simhat Torah in Art", in The Sukko/Simhat Torah Anthology, p. 123-128. For further consultation see Cecil Roth's seminal work, Jewish Art: An Illustrated History, New York, 1961.
21. Guttman, ibid, notes that it was common--particularly in Ashkenazic synagogues--to use specially made Torah mantles and curtains for the duration of the Sukkot holiday. Sugar bowls, as well as candy and soap dishes (made from silver, wood, and glass) were frequently adapted for use as etrog containers in the 18th and 19th centuries.
22. Collection Georges Weill, Strasbourg.
23. The work was painted by Bernard Picart (1673-1733).
24. Other examples of sukkot in art include works by Moritz Oppenheim (1800-1882) and a follower, Hermann Junker (1838-1899).
25. By Pieter Wagenaar, 1781 (Amsterdam Municipal Archives).
26. According to as yet unpublished background materials kindly provided to the author by the Associate Director of Save Venice, Melissa Conn, the sukkah was in use even after the year 1896, when documents refer to it as the "stanza della ex-succà". (Venice State Archives, ASCVE, Busta 31, Descrizione mappali e Inventario Scola Canton, 1896.)
27. The sukkah panels are made from Italian fir, primed with a thin layer of gesso before being painted. The precise measurements of the two panels are as follows: 157cm x 97cm (Moses and the Drowning of the Egyptian Army in the Red Sea) and 155 cm x 100.5 cm (The Falling of Manna).
28. Restauri a Venezia 1987-1998, a compilation of restored works published by the Soprintendenza per il Patrimonio Storico Artistico e Demoetnoanthropologico di Venezia, records, erroneously, that the panels date from the "scuola veneta del XVIII (italics mine)." A Hebrew inscription found on the Falling of Manna panel actually records the date of completion as 1826, thereby identifying the panels as works from the 19th, and not 18th, century. A discussion about this discrepancy, held with the panels' restorer--Serrafino Volpin--in May 2007, proved noteworthy. Initially, Mr. Volpin stood by the 18th century dating of the work, given what he believed to be evident stylistic leanings towards that period. However, after a lengthy discussion with the author, and in light of the fact that Mr. Volpin was unaware at the time of their restoration that the panels even recorded an actual date (as he does not read Hebrew) he is now of the opinion that the panels date from the early 19th century. However, he maintains that the panels reflect an 18th century (retardaire) style, suggesting to him that an older painter--perhaps set in his ways--executed the works. When asked about the possibility that the paintings and their inscriptions were produced at different times (which could have theoretically contributed to the confusion surrounding their style and dating), Mr. Volpin replied that he had no doubt whatsoever that the Hebrew inscriptions and narrative scenes found on the panels were produced simultaneously.
29. Professor Cesare Vivante, in conversations held with the author in March and April 2007, remembers only two panels displayed in the Scuola Spagnola. This may imply that the original donation to the synagogue consisted of two panels and no more.
30. The only caveat being that the two Hebrew inscriptions found on the extant panels could be understood as forming a beginning and an end (the first panel recites the blessing uttered upon entering the sukkah; the second panel gives its date of execution), essentially meaning that the opposite could also be argued.
31. Hypothesized by Serrafino Volpin in a conversation with the author, in May 2007.
32. The museum, founded in 1981, was formed to collect, preserve, and display objects pertaining to Jewish life in Italy from the Middle Ages to the present. Dr. Umberto Nahon, in collaboration with the Jewish communities of Italy and Israel, brought a collection of Renaissance and Baroque arks and religious objects from Italy to Israel.
33. There were probably additional scenes which have now been lost (or, in the best of cases, have not yet resurfaced).
34. Ottolenghi, p. 68, writes that P.L. Fantelli, of the Sovrintendenza ai Bene Artistici di Padova, recognized (with some reservations) the hand of this artist, described as a "good quality painter/decorator" (translation mine) active primarily in minor centers of the Veneto region.
35. According to kabbalistic tradition, the sukkah is visited daily by the seven ushpizin ("honored guests")-- Moses, Aaron, Abraham, Issac, Jacob, Joseph, and David. Tradition holds that each patriarch imbues the sukkah with a particular mystic quality (love, strength, beauty, eternity, humility, connection, and dignity). There were also female counterparts to these visitors.
36. According to Ottolenghi, ibid, these are inspired by ancient and contemporary rabbinical commentaries, as well as iconographic references found in an early 17th century haggadah and an 18th century kettubah, both of Venetian origin.
37. Intriguingly, Zusia Efron, in "If I Forget Thee: Longings for Jerusalem in the Jewish Folk Art of Eastern Europe", ARIEL (Israel Review of Arts and Letters), Jerusalem, Vol. 102, 1996, writes: "In Tyczyn [Poland], a small shtetl in Galicia, in the attic of a private house, I found a painted sukkah from the early 19th century (italics mine). Jews are waiting outdoors, for a ship sailing on the high seas that was to gather them up and bring them to the Promised Land, the land of vineyards and palms." Efforts on the part of the author to obtain an image of this sukkah (held in the Zusia Efron archives at the Center for Jewish Art in Jerusalem) have been unsuccessful. Nonetheless, related correspondence has confirmed that the panels are of Polish provenance.
38. It could also be argued that the idea of water appears in the Abbey panel, Jacob Meets Rachel by the Well, even if no actual water appears.
39. This painting reflects a division between the Romantic painting style, which emphasized color and spirit, and the concurrent Neoclassical style, which emphasized line and emotional detachment.
40. Throughout history liberty has been depicted as a woman; even the ancient Romans dedicated a temple to Libertas, the Goddess of Liberty, on the Aventine Hill.
41. An odd chromatic reference, given that, traditionally, it was the Virgin Mary who was shown depicted wearing these colors in early Christian, Medieval, and Renaissance painting. Compositional and chromatic allusions to Titian's Annuciation, done in 1518 for the Venetian church of the Frari, remain unsubstantiated but enticing all the same.
42. This song is recited every day in morning prayers, and publicly read in the synagogue twice a year: on the seventh day of Passover (the anniversary of the splitting of the Red Sea), and on Shabbat Shirah, the “Shabbat of Song”.
43. Should original provenance of these panels ever be established, it would be interesting to know whether any female members of the (original commissioning) family went by the name of Miriam.
44. The Song of Miriam might therefore be a more appropriate title for this panel.
45. Greenberg, p. 1.
46. The postures of both the reclining female figure and kneeling male figure in the foreground suggest to the author that they may have been copied from external sources. They are positioned--if awkardly--in a slightly more convincing (though academic) manner. Possible iconographic sources include motifs from Jewish religious texts and genre paintings. Indeed, according to Sarfati sukkot were commonly decorated with popular scenes taken from well-known and widely reproduced masterpeices. She notes that one of the eight painted cloth panels adorning the (Swedish) Ettlinger family sukkah was apparently copied, with several omissions, from a painting by Bartolomé Murillo (1618-1682) in the Hospital de la Caridad in Seville, Spain.
47. Exodus 34:29-35.
48. The translation of the bible from Greek into the Latin Vulgate is attributed to St. Jerome. Karan ohrmeaning "rays of light" was evidently mistranslated as "horns". The mistake in translation is probably due to the fact that the word keren can mean either "ray" or "horn" in Hebrew.
49. Michelangelo's Moses (1513-16; 1542-45), executed for the tomb of Julius II, is found in Rome at the church of San Pietro in Vincoli.
50. According to Riccardo Calimani, The Ghetto of Venice, Milan, 1988, p. 257, early 19th century Venetian Jews enjoyed many freedoms that would have been inconceivable to them only a few years earlier. This included the right to be admitted to and trained at important cultural institutions, including the Venetian Academy of Fine Arts.
51. As cited in Calimani, p. 248.
52. The events of the day are related in a report by Pier Gran Maria de Ferrari, leader of the Third Battalion, Second Bucchia Brigade, who signs the document "Greetings, and Fraternity. Venice, 24 Messidor Year One of the Italian Liberty", as cited in Calamani, p. 252.
53. The Austrians arrive in mid-October 1797, under the Treaty of Campoformio.
54. Venice, and its Jewish population, remained under Austrian control until 1805, at which time the Veneto once again came under French rule, but then only until 1815, when Venice was ceded to Austria at the Congress of Vienna. Venice remained under Austrian control for the next 51 years (except for during the brief Venetian revolution of 1848).
55. The Congress of Vienna established the political order in Italy that would last until unification. The final act of the Congress made Francis I of Austria the king of Lombardy-Venetia, which was subsequently incorporated into the Hapsburg empire. See Amos Luzzato and Gadi Luzzato, "Brevi cenni per una storia dell'insediamento ebriaco nel veneto" in Midor Ledor: Vita e Cultura Ebraica nel Veneto, 1989, p. 13 for a discussion of the "patente di tolleranza" issued by the Austrians during their rule.
56. According to Exodus 16:31 the manna was "...like coriander seed, white, and the taste of it was like honey." It was said to descend at night and was collected before sunrise, before it melted in the hot desert sun.
57. An interesting iconographic source is suggested for the Manna panel by the 18th century embroidered silk parochet, or torah cover, which once belonged to the Levantine synagogue of Venice. Donated to theMuseo Ebraico di Venezia in 1804, the parochet shows ancient sukkot, manna, quails, and Moses' hand as it strikes the rock. Though normally on display at the museum, it is currently undergoing restoration.
58. Sefer Tehillim Ohel Yoseph Yitchak, Otsar Sifrei Lubavitch, New York, 1999, p. 52.
59. Ibid, p. 53.
60. Shaul Bassi, in "From All Their Habitations: The Venetian Ghetto and Modern Jewish Identity", Judiasm, Fall 2002, p. 473, observes that only the most affluent and enterprising Jews actually left the ghetto before 1818, when they were granted full civil rights. He argues that the gradual separation between the Jews who left the ghetto and those who remained can be characterized even today by the "self-explanatory categories of su and zò, 'upper' and 'lower' Jews. For the former, social ascent had corresponded to a distancing from the Ghetto, while the latter...being lower class, had remained in or around the Ghetto and had become identified, often derogatorily, with it."
61. From E. Concina, D. Calabia, and U. Camerino, eds., La città degli Ebrei. Il ghetto di Venezia: Architettura e Urbanistica, Venice, 1991, p. 276-281.
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