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Archie Rand Jewish Enough
This is it. This is the one exhibition that you must see if contemporary Jewish Art matters at all. Archie Rand has been bravely creating radical Jewish art for at the last twenty years, challenging both the contemporary art establishment and the purveyors of Jewish culture. As a consequence of this insolence he has been exiled to what amounts to a critical wilderness. It is time to redeem him from exile, time for the Jewish public to take note and acknowledge the accomplishments of the foremost creator of Jewish art working today. Our cultural future depends upon it.
Yeshiva University Museum is to be commended for its courage in showing this selection of works from the 1990's that begins to give an idea as to what Rand is all about. The diversity and scope shown here is simply breathtaking, and informative. Rand insists that “If you invest everything in one specific effect, one wonderful drawing, one conclusive image, you are worshiping false gods,” and therefore he draws from many sources, working in a series as part of his strategy against the constant lure of modern idolatry. A dyed-in-the-wool postmodernist, he is deeply engaged in process, uninterested in producing the “great masterpiece.” The one constant in his work is an insistence on Jewish subject matter. Nonetheless the multiple meanings and unanswered questions his works provoke are his “religious identity, bound up in the unfinished painting, expressing humility before God.”
Psalm 68 (1994) consists of thirty-six paintings, each encompassing
a block of English text encased in an abstract representation. Deliberately
choosing a difficult text, thirty-six verses long and complex, Rand
challenges the viewer, “would you want this text on your living
room wall?” He defiantly answers that if the content is Jewish,
he can make art with it whether it is inherently appealing or not.
Rand's long and contentious history of engagement with the Jewish community has led to a heady kind of freedom to choose his subjects and formats at will, insisting that he creates for an as yet undefined audience that accepts only one elemental proposition; “they must feel Jewish.” More and more today that audience is ready and ripe for connection, but that wasn't always the case. At the B'nai Yosef Synagogue in Brooklyn, his first major Jewish mural project in 1974, he immediately encountered heated opposition to his use of images in the Sephardic sanctuary. The halachic dispute was resolved finally by the intervention of the revered Rabbi Moshe Feinstein but the tension persists between the artist and a prevailing suspicion of the visual arts on the part of religious Jews. While he feels unfairly criticized by the religious, the secular cultural elite is even more damning. His consistent use of Jewish subject matter, especially religious narratives, has earned him excision and scorn from the art establishment. Curiously though, it has liberated him.
Gods Change, Prayers Are Here To Stay (2000) presents what
at first looks like a visualization of Yehuda Amichai's beautifully
iconoclastic poem on God, prayer and Jewish life. Rand has arbitrarily
placed over parts of the primitive images a portion of the first
line of each stanza. The truncated text intrudes on the impastoed
surface, refusing to visually integrate thereby violating expected
aesthetic conventions. Reading the full poem only heightens the
disjuncture as one realizes that the images do not illustrate the
words. Therein lies the genius of these twenty-four paintings. Each
image is a commentary and an elaboration of the text.
Whoever put on a talis
from Gods Change, Prayers Are Here To Stay (2000)
acrylic and marker on canvas (16 x 20) by Archie Rand
Whoever put on a tallis graces an image of a rampant lion,
the symbol of a confident Judaism found on many proud Torah arks.
The complete meaning emerges as one reads the rest of the line “when
he was young will never forget.” The poem speaks of the comfort
of the tallis, “snuggling into it like the cocoon of a butterfly...”
Rand expands the text to speak of the pride and comfort of Jewish
ritual. Once examined each one of these panels explodes the surface
meaning and, utilizing fragments of poetry, creates ironies, accusations
and celebrations.
Rand's strategy of flouting artistic conventions, his willful, awkward and
frequently unaesthetic images are a reflection of deeply held belief.
“I am engaged in a life and death struggle, what do I care if
a specific red “works” or not!” He refuses to choose between
an abstract or figurative idiom, maintaining that “after abstract
expressionism fell apart all visual languages became co-existent.”
His Nachmanides Letter to his Son (1993) attempts to penetrate
in thirty-one abstract images the simple message of the Ramban to
his son to banish anger, accept humility and stand in constant awe
of God. The Hebrew original and an English translation is subtly
embedded in the bottom of each image, creating a kind of illuminated
book spread out over the wall for quiet meditation.
In 1989 the Jewish Museum included his fifty-four Parsha Paintings
in the controversial exhibition “Too Jewish.” Norman Kleeblatt
wrote that they “merged quotations from limited Jewish iconographic
sources with those from...Surrealism, Abstract Expressionism and
Pop...adding fake jewels to the corners of the canvases...[thereby
to] reverse...the high seriousness of the abstract masters whom
he appropriates.” Rand now sees these works as a turning point
in his imagery. He feels he has moved beyond respectful midrashic
illustration into total appropriation of other mediums to communicate
his frequently subversive meanings. Instead of attempting to create
a new Jewish iconography he is now intent on “allowing it to emerge
out of the creation of the paintings.” Contemporary Jewish art
will find its form not in history but in process.
Sixty Paintings
from the Bible (1992)
acrylic on canvas (18 x 24) by Archie Rand
Sixty Paintings from the Bible (1992) utilizes a contemporary
technique, the comic book, embedded in one of the oldest forms of
Jewish representation. These images are taken from a set of seventeenth
century engravings, Icones Biblicae (1630) by the Christian
artist Matthaeus Merian. Rand's appropriations, common in Jewish art
throughout the ages, are similar to those of the widely reproduced
Amsterdam Haggadah of 1695. The difference here is that Rand uses
the images as a mere scaffolding to “reassess the Tanach, get past
the standard English translation and find the ‘punch' of the original
Hebrew.” The comic book technique (invented and dominated by Jewish
artists) now becomes the means to facilitate Archie's translation.
His use of the word balloon, bold letters, underlining and italics,
allows him to simultaneously emphasize text and image and comment
on both. The Sacrifice of Isaac presents an angel interrupting Abraham
about to slaughter his son. Abraham looks up exclaiming “I'M HERE!”
This response, textually true and yet visually impatient and impertinent,
implies a fundamental challenge to God's concept of a test.
Further Rand insists on working on all sixty paintings at once, breaking into the traditional forms with garish Pop color and arbitrary areas of completion and sketchiness. What emerges from the cultural clash between Baroque drawing, Pop painting and cartoon blurbs is a far reaching reappreciation of the Torah text. Rand's cultural layering exposes what was always hinted at in Jewish art, that cultural forms do not necessarily contain immutable meanings, that in fact culture is permeable and adaptable to creative appropriation. This approach is deeply Talmudic, asserting that there is little in the world that cannot render service to Heaven.
The Sons of Aaron (1992)
acrylic on canvas by Archie Rand
The Sons of Aaron depicts the moment Nadab and Abihu are consumed by a Heavenly fire for bringing “alien fire” before Hashem. Hot colors depict the violent event while the background is sketched in thin washes. Unexpectedly Rand's word balloon erupts from one of two background figures, presumably Moses, exclaiming, “This is EXACTLY what GOD meant!” Hosts of commentators have puzzled over the meaning of the death of Aaron's righteous sons. Rand's ironic text headlines that God's purpose is anything but exactly clear.
This kind of liberating realization that our Jewish texts are expansive, that Jewish artists are not limited to the piety of stock explanations or the wearisome proclamations of Jewish identity, this is what makes Archie Rand's work vital. His work challenges us to devour our literature, our history and lives and make art, make meanings and begin to construct a Jewish culture. This exhibition shows an artist whose work is not “Too Jewish” but finally Jewish Enough.
Richard McBee
March 25, 2004
Yeshiva University Museum - Center for Jewish History
15 West 16th Street, New York, N.Y.; (212) 294 8330
www.yumuseum.org
Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday 11am-5pm;
$6 adults, $4 children
Until August 15, 2004
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