“Art in Judaism always has a spiritual purpose: to make us aware of the universe as a work of art, testifying to the supreme Artist, God Himself.”
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, in The Beauty of Holiness or the Holiness of Beauty (Vayakhel, Covenant & Conversation)
A Dream World in Tel Aviv My name is Uri Gera and I live with my wife Yael in Tel-Aviv, Israel. We know Darius for many, many years and we always enjoyed his art. We are lucky to be his friends, so when he starts working on a new painting
Jewish-themed art This is the story sent to me by Pegge. I got to know her through various emails related to purchases of Biblical art for the home and, even though I’ve never met her and her husband, feel that through our correspondence, we’ve become good friends. Greetings, my name
Sean Cribbin lives in Connecticut with his wife and three children. A couple of years ago he contacted me, and bought four original works: Art for a prayer room. There was a large oil painting of Moses on Mount Sinai, two smaller paintings, and a wooden wall-sculpture. Because of the
A Torah Painting on Creation, Hebrew Letters, and Renewal After a very difficult year, here’s me with the art of Genesis, finally starting afresh. This is a return to the beginning — a new Torah painting centered on the opening verses of Bereishit, the Book of Genesis. For Jews and
Jewish Biblical art is an act of attunement. It is born of paying attention to the words of the Hebrew Bible not only with the mind, but also with the heart, and then with whatever it is that transforms our inner feeling into colour and form. Sometimes I illustrate the Biblical stories more or less literally, but in recent work I aim to embody aspects of the sacred text by entering further into its depth and resonance.
In Jewish tradition, images have often been approached with trepidation. And yet, across centuries, artists have found ways to express the spirit of the Scriptures through symbolism — by using colour, pattern, gesture, and suggestion. An olive tree, a mountain, a fragment of Hebrew lettering: these can carry layers of meaning that unfold slowly, like the text itself.
This art does not aim to replace the written word, but to accompany it. It invites reflection rather than conclusion, presence rather than explanation. Going with my father to synagogue, I used to spend hours gazing at the stained-glass window above the ark. This was a very geometric and colourful depiction of the revelation at Mt Sinai, and it transported me into that world in a way that words cannot explain. Even at night, when the window was dark and seemingly lifeless, I always felt it held a latent, lurking, ever-unfolding power. In this sense, Jewish Biblical art can be seen as part of a long tradition of interpretation — a kind of midrash without words.
Jewish religious art continues to evolve. Exactly as the synagogue window did, a brand new interpretation will draw on ancient themes while speaking in a contemporary visual language, bringing the ancient past right into the present day. Jewish Biblical art offers an endlessly fresh encounter with the timeless stories of the Bible — with the sense of wonder and immersion that I used to feel before that stained glass window.
For the more academically-minded, here is an interesting article about aniconism in the history of Jewish art, something that has been much at the centre of discussions about Jewish art. That is, the question of whether making images of the human figure is acceptable, or not:
“The lingering idea of Jewish aniconism still haunts our modern minds.” Jacques Picard on Judaism and the Visual Arts
