Mordechai the Jew
Three Works of
Jewish Art
"And thy life shall hang in doubt
before thee…(Devorim 28:66). Rav interpreted this
as applying to Israel in the time of Haman (Esther
Rabbah, Proem). This time may be upon us. There
can be no certainty when war is imminent and
constant terror threatens our homeland. Three very
different artists understand various shades of
this perspective as they explicate the role of
Mordechai in the Book of Esther.
Rembrandt van Rijn, the seventeenth century
master, created The Triumph of Mordechai in 1641.
Teeming with figures, this etching portrays the
bizarre turn of events as Haman is forced to honor
his archenemy, Mordechai (Esther 6: 10-11). Haman
leads him through the streets of Shushan on a
royal horse garbed in royal robes, proclaiming,
"This is what is done for the man whom the King
especially wants to honor!" Rembrandt has filled
the image with figures bowing down in homage or
recoiling in laughter and shock at the spectacle
of the kingdom's prime minister reduced to a mere
lackey and herald.
The Triumph of
Mordechai (1641) etching by Rembrandt van Rijn
British Museum, London
Ensconced in a balcony in the upper right,
the royal couple observes the scene in regal
detachment in contrast to the agitated crowd. More
surprisingly though, the main characters,
Mordechai and Haman are strangely passive in the
etching's off center focus, an uneasy calm in the
midst of social upheaval. These two heads,
Mordechai's silhouetted against the sky and
Haman's depicted in high contrast, form part of a
triangle completed by the horse's head. Finely
detailed, its head twists unnaturally toward Haman
and gazes past him to the viewer. The horse acts
as the symbol of living royal power in the
narrative and mediates the tension between
Mordechai and Haman. It is through that power that
the resolution will finally be sealed.
This image evokes an ancient fable from a
distant land. Haman is exotically turbaned and
Mordechai's hat and robes are fantastic even for
seventeenth century fashion. All the more
fantastic is their calm at the center of a
threatening storm. That is the most unsettling
aspect of this image. Mordechai the Jew
understands that his people are slated for
extermination and his personal triumph will not
alleviate the cruel decree. Haman has been
personally disgraced before his enemy. Both are in
the midst of a terrible crisis, yet they show only
stoic consternation. The tension is exquisite.
Each seems trapped in a psychological morass that
will ultimately affect the fate of their people.
Rembrandt's late Renaissance vision is
bound up in the personal and social relationships
of the biblical fable. He can hardly imagine the
annihilation of the Jewish people that Haman has
called for.
Triumph of
Mordechai (1998) oil on canvas (9' x 12') by
John Bradford Collection of the artist
John Bradford's giant painting (9' x 12')
of the Triumph of Mordechai is radically
different. This work is clearly informed by the
murderous history Jews experienced in the
twentieth century. The horse, now wearing a golden
crown, stares at the haughty Haman who struts
alongside the mounted Mordechai. The nexus has
shifted to Haman and the horse at the exact center
of the painting. A lurid yellow silhouettes
Mordechai who has turned away from the action.
Mordechai the Jew, passive and yet superior in
position, is gazing deep into the painting, into
the future as it were, where the political
struggle between Haman and the King (here
represented by the crowned horse) will be finally
resolved.
Haman, chin jutting up and arrogant, is an
echo of a twentieth century fascist, a puffy faced
Mussolini still confident of his power. Bradford
invites us to pass through the gate depicted at
the left and enter into an understanding of the
present dangers posed by those who threaten the
Jews.
Esther and Mordechai
(2002) oil on canvas (66 x 59) by Janet
Shafner Collection of the artist
Esther and Mordechai (2002) by Janet
Shafner is distinctly political in approach.
Simple colors of white, black and blue with hints
of red underpainting create an initially
theatrical impression of authority radiating from
the corridors of power. The drama is further
emphasized by the figure of Esther centered by the
columns and positioned in the center of her
portion of the painting. She reaches out to
Mordechai who is isolated in the right section. He
is in sackcloth and ashes, horrified at the
terrible decree against the Jews. He commands her
to plead for the lives of her people (Esther 4:
12-17).
The stark separation between Mordechai the
Jew, cognizant of danger and yet powerless, and
Esther, the hidden Jew, who has access to power in
a non-Jewish world, could not be greater. Shafner
demands that the viewer understand the necessity
of political manipulation by which "insider Jews"
influence events that are crucial to Jewish
survival. Then she adds to the dialogue a vision
of the consequences of failure.
In the lunette above the action is a
mysterious landscape of abandoned shoes. They
refer to the times when we could not control
events and Haman's descendants devastated us. In
the mussaf for Yom Kippur (ArtScroll Machzor, pg.
587) a piyut moans, "We have erred, our Rock;
forgive us, our Molder," and tells of the
martyrdom of the ten sages. The Roman emperor
wished to incriminate the sages in the sale of
Joseph by his brothers. He "ordered that his
palace be filled with shoes." Shoes? We are told
that when Joseph was sold the brothers used the
money to buy themselves shoes.
With the debt still outstanding, the great
sages, the descendants of Joseph's brothers, were
still guilty, and therefore, libel to the death
penalty for kidnapping. Subsequently they were all
murdered by the Romans. Closer to our own time,
images of abandoned shoes, clothing and
possessions crowd our Holocaust memory of mass
executions and deportations. The Shafner painting
is telling us we cannot afford to fail at
politics.
Each artist has something to tell us about
how Mordechai, Esther and Haman relate to their
social and political reality. The messages and
indeed warnings embedded in the artwork are clear.
It is up to us to bring them into the present and
act on them for the sake of our people.
Richard McBee
March 10, 2003
Pubished in The Jewish Press
