וְהָאֶ֣בֶן הַזֹּ֗את אֲשֶׁר־שַׂ֙מְתִּי֙ מַצֵּבָ֔ה יִהְיֶ֖ה בֵּ֣ית אֱלֹהִ֑ים וְכֹל֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר תִּתֶּן־לִ֔י עַשֵּׂ֖ר אֲעַשְּׂרֶ֥נּוּ לָֽךְ׃
And this stone, which I have set up as a pillar, shall be G.d’s abode; and of all that You give me, I will set aside a tithe for You.” (Bereshit 28.22)
These are the words that Yaakov pronounces upon awakening from the dream in which the L.rd appeared to him in the vision of the “ladder placed on the ground, the top of which reached heaven and on it angels of the L.rd ascended and descended”. Yaakov is about to leave the land of Canaan but he is accompanied by the promise of protection and the blessing of the Eternal, for him and for his descendants, the renewed gift of that land – which will take the name of Land of Israel – and the notice that, as had already been said to Avraham and Itzhak, blessings will be spread from his lineage for all peoples.
Yaakov speaks of a stone that will have to become ” L.rd ‘s house”, a place of life in its maximum expression, material and spiritual, a meeting place of the people with the L.rd.
Avi Sperber is an artist who has made stone the elective material of his practice, the object of an ideal confrontation with the most secret reasons for his doing and the main instrument of creation as numerous interpreters and, among these, especially Doron Polak have highlighted.
I would like to focus on this. It will immediately be said that countless have been the expressions that, since ancient times and throughout the artistic history of various human cultures, have found in the stone the first natural and most effective material through which to express the need and the possibility of giving representation to one’s own idea of the world. And even today in the contemporary world, stone still remains a fundamental option for the sculptor even when he resorts to other materials, as Avi’s work itself testifies, when he welcomes them and mixes them in his work, without ever undermining the absolute primacy of the stone.
My thesis is that the use of stone is central in the work of Avi Sperber not only for an aesthetic or contextual reason, nor only for poetic motives related to the contemporary feeling that considers strongly important the theme of the environment, of nature, of the landscape, but – in addition to what we said – it is a signal of a specific and distinct conceptual matrix that finds its roots in the author’s own Jewishness.
I mean that for a Jewish artist (and an Israeli who also lives in physical, not only intellectual contact with a landscape dominated by stone), this element presents itself as a strong archetypal reference, immediately rich in symbolic references to the reality of Am Israel, to its cultural and religious history as well as the specific ethical vision that supports it.
All aspects that inevitably are not easily understood by an interpreter or an artist unrelated to Jewish culture and that invite us to dwell on the particular relationship between the Jewish vision of the world, deeply rooted in Avi’s consciousness and artistic creation, and language itself, in the belief that it exists actually an art that can be defined Jewish, at least in the sense that we are advocating here, that it is an art characterized by a very strong spiritual and cultural thrust that draws nourishment from ancient Jewish sources, defining its identity even in the present.
The existence or not of an art that can be defined as Jewish is an old question, never solved, but this could be an acceptable answer for our time.
On the other hand it can be said that the conscience with which the artist works is not so far from a fundamental concept like the one that the Chachamim (the Wise) call “leshèm shamàim”, “for a celestial purpose”: every action and therefore also the artistic one – according to the Halakha (Jewish law) – must have a higher, divine purpose, must not have a selfish, personal purpose. This is effectively the modus operandi of art and the artist’s action itself could be understood as a mitzvah (commandment), as part of an overall design of Tikkun Olam, to repare the world.
This obviously also includes the concept of the aesthetic embellishment of the mitzvà, the so-called hiddur mitzvà (to perform a precept in an aesthetic way) which explains, for example, how in Italy – a country where, by tradition and culture, art and beauty have always had a considerable importance – liturgical objects and synagogues often respond to particularly high aesthetic standards.
“It was taught:” this is my G.d and I will beautify him “(Exodus, 15: 2) – make yourself beautiful in front of Him when you perform the precepts, make a beautiful Hut, make a beautiful Shofar (ram’s horn) , a beautiful Talleth (fringed dress for prayers), a beautiful Sefer Torah and write it with beautiful ink, with a beautiful pen, have it written by an expert scribe and cover it with beautiful silk “(Shabbath 133b).
However, although unquestionably important, remembering only the halakhic principles would be too hasty to fully understand the scope of the artistic act and its universal value.
When I use the concept of Jewish art, finding it particularly current and alive in the work of some contemporary artists such as Avi Sperber, I am referring not only to works by artists who, as well as Sperber himself sometimes does, employ explicit visual references to traditional symbols and iconography of Judaism or – with particular regard to Israeli artists – represent significant themes of contemporary Israeli life.
Certainly this commitment to grasp and problematize the environmental, social and political issues and conflicts of the Israeli society is absolutely relevant for the understanding of Judaism itself in modernity, as it is important the reference to traditions and old symbols.
When I speak of current Jewish art, however, I do not mean an art that necessarily presents the external signs, albeit influential, of the Jewish civilization in reference to the repertoire of ancient and contemporary symbols and themes that run through it, but above all I mean an art that deeply adheres to a philosophy of life, an ethics, a vision of the world and to sources of inspiration that are unique and still operating today, within a value awareness that is expressed through intimate adherence to forms of spiritual knowledge and references to ways of thinking, flows and historical paths, through which the Jewish conscience was consolidated.
In Avi’s art, therefore, in the choice of the primary material of his sculptures, stone is not a generic formal tendency for this material but the archetype of Judaism itself, which refers to the primary relationship with the desert, with the land of Israel and an idea of landscape, in which the hardness of the stone and the harshness of the ground testify with absolute radicality the existential condition of man in search of his own identity as well as of his own collective freedom as a people capable of building itself around that process of recognition with the given Word and with the assigned Earth.
Nothing like stone has the ability to open to the presence of a Transcendence and to an idea of the Sacred that can only germinate in the absolute silence of the desert, also visually occupying all the surrounding space without allowing the distraction of herbs, plants, trees, vegetation. Only in that void and full of stone can the Divine manifest itself, which precisely to be absolute, can only be one and only a non-form capable of containing and generating all possible forms.
From the stone of the desert moves the principle of our regained freedom and from that same stone moves the regenerative action of the artist Avi Sperber who remodels it by inscribing in it the forms of our contemporaneity, but at the same time making it an expression of the laws that dominate experience of art, experience of creation. This is the secret of his work.
As Doron Polak writes “The stone speaks for itself” and, I add, speaks of an original distinction (kedushà).
According to a passage from the Miynah (Yoma 5,2), “from the time of the previous Prophets” was found in the Temple the so-called even yetiyyah, “foundation stone”, which was “three fingers high from the ground” and located at the point where in the First Temple had been the Ark of the Covenant. According to a rabbinic tradition, the creation of the world took place starting from the point where the even yetiyyah was located and where Jerusalem would later be found: It was taught that the world was founded (huytat) from it.
Even (stone in Hebrew) is – as Rashi tells us – “the combination of av and ben – father and son”, it is Jacob’s family, it is the people of Israel who continue their way. The stone is a symbol of the history of Israel, direct bond and memory, a memory that is transformed by projecting itself into the future through the uninterrupted passage “from Father to Son”, from Master to Disciple.
“The stone rejected by the builders will become the cornerstone” (Tehillim, Psalms 118,22) that is, the role of Israel for the spiritual future of all peoples on Earth will be recognized, because the House of the L.rd, built with this stone, will be the place where men will finally meet in peace. “Many peoples will go and say: come, we will go up to the Mount of the L.rd, to the House of the G.d of Jacob” (Isaiah 2,3).
As the Italian rabbi Giuseppe Momigliano writes, stone is an expression of strength, “it is above all the strength of resistance over time, the ability of the “even Israel” – the stone of Israel “(Bereshit 49,24) to resist all attempts to make us disappear, from ancient times to those who, even today, with instruments of death that cross the sky, try to bring mourning, destruction and upheaval to the Earth that the L.rd has allowed us to rediscover”.
For this same reason, the custom of placing a stone on the tomb does not simply bring us back to the ancient custom of marking the tombs in the desert with human compassion during the long journey, but takes on the profound meaning of a resilience capable of overcoming the limits of death.
For this reason, even Avi’s stone constantly reconnects us to our past while at the same time pushes us to look to the future becoming a concrete message of Ahavat Israel, love for Israel, where Israel itself in its current configuration of nation and modern state represents, as Robert Aron of the French Academy states in an interview with Paul Giniewski, “one of the pinnacles of Jewish culture, a nation in which both believers and unbelievers, in one form or another, are attached to a book, the Bible. Religious kibbutzim like non-religious kibbutzim, scientists like theologians, refer to the Torah.
And this Torah in its broad lines is applied by all. This re-attachment of a modern nation to the Book of Books, which is the foundation of Jewish culture and religion, and consequently of all that is monotheism, seems to me extremely important and gives its true dimension to the existence of Israel as a nation”. (The history of Israel involves a fourth dimension: its contemporary and political life, The Monthly Review of Israel, third series, Vol. 42, No. 5/6 (May – June 1976), pp. 267-280 (14 pages) Published By: Union of Italian Jewish Communities).
A few more suggestions. In the book of Exodus (Shemot, 28: 29-30) it is explained how the high priest was to be dressed and equipped when he entered the Kodesh Hakodashim, the place of divine presence. One of the vestments that the Cohen Gadol was to wear was the Choshen Mishpat, the breastplate of judgment.
On this rectangular garment there must have been four rows by three columns of stones. One stone for each of the twelve tribes of Israel. The stones were: sardonium, topaz, emerald, ruby, sapphire, diamond, opal, agate, amethyst, chrysolite, onyx and jasper.
Each of the stones was engraved with the name of one of the sons of Israel. Twelve stones like the tribes of Israel, but also like the signs of the Zodiac or the months of the year.
The Torah continues with these words:
לִפְנֵֽי־יְהֹוָ֖ה תָּמִֽיד׃
Aaron shall carry the names of the sons of Israel on the breastpiece of decision over his heart, when he enters the sanctuary, for remembrance before the L.RD at all times.
וְנָתַתָּ֞ אֶל־חֹ֣שֶׁן הַמִּשְׁפָּ֗ט אֶת־הָאוּרִים֙ וְאֶת־הַתֻּמִּ֔ים וְהָיוּ֙ עַל־לֵ֣ב אַהֲרֹ֔ן בְּבֹא֖וֹ לִפְנֵ֣י יְהֹוָ֑ה וְנָשָׂ֣א אַ֠הֲרֹ֠ן אֶת־מִשְׁפַּ֨ט בְּנֵי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֧ל עַל־לִבּ֛וֹ לִפְנֵ֥י יְהֹוָ֖ה תָּמִֽיד׃ {ס}
Inside the breastpiece of decision you shall place the Urim and Tummim, so that they are over Aaron’s heart when he comes before the L.rd. Thus Aaron shall carry the instrument of decision for the Israelites over his heart before the L.rd at all times. (Shemot, 28:29-30)
The word Urim comes from “or”, light, and means turned on. The word Tumim comes from tam, and means turned off. It seems that the Urim and Tumim, or the turning on and off of the stones of the ridge, served as an oracle. Joshua, Shaul and David in times of danger asked for a divine decision through them through the high priest. The stones gave two answers: one positive, on, and one negative, off.
A Talmudic interpretation (Mishnah masechet yomà 7,5 Talmud bavli tomà 73) says that this oracle could only be used by the king, by the Sanhedrin (court of justice) and by public authorities. To put a question to the high priest, he had to be turned around. The priest saw the letters inscribed on the stones become evident, turning on and off. The person asking the question, on the other hand, could not see the letters going on and off.
This image appears of astonishing and visionary topicality: it is precisely the stone, the silicon, the main material of which the deserts, sandy or rocky, are composed, which today again turns on and off, like the lights of the Urim and Tummim, in the technological heart of our computers and artificial intelligence systems that govern an uninterrupted flow of knowledge.
The same stone of the desert in which the people of Israel received the Torah or the same sharp stone with which Avraham circumcised himself, so that this was forever the physical sign, in the flesh, of the covenant (Brit) made with G.d, destined to repeating itself in generations not only as a memory but as a continuous regeneration of that relationship.
Stone of stability and solidity that indicates the presence of the Eternal when, by the hand of Moshe, whose arms are raised thanks to a stone that acts as a support given to him by Aron and Chur, it marks the defeat of Amalek and leads Israel to victory.
All this richness of meaning is intrinsically brought into play and brought to light in the work of Avi Sperber every time he approaches a stone to carve it.
Elul 5781
Luigi Israel Viola
Avi Sperber at the Stern Gallery by Debby Luzia