Zvi Malnovitzer

Mayanot Gallery

28 King George Street, Jerusalem, Israel 91073

972 2 625 0916

www.mayanotgallery.com

Yael Gahnassia, Director

Piety and paintings of pious Jews, what a dangerous mix!  It takes considerable courage to dedicate oneself to making art, not to mention to do so within the Orthodox community.  That is what Zvi Malnovitzer did.  He was raised and educated in a Hasidic community in Bnai Brak, Israel and while learning at the Ponevezh Yeshiva he somehow found the time and energy to learn to draw.  And he wasn’t satisfied depicting the stacks of Gemaras and commentaries he studied daily. Rather, a drawing from 1957 depicts the exile of bewildered Jews emerging from a tunnel overseen by six armed men on a balcony above.  Even as a youth Malnovitzer’s artistic seriousness and sensitivity was paramount. 

Zvi Malnovitzer’s work, as represented in two handsome catalogues published by Mayanot Gallery in 2000 and 2007, falls into two general categories: refugees and a broad array of genre depictions of the Hasidic community.  Both areas of subject matter are fraught with the dangers of pietistic treatment that threaten to dilute and trivialize the seriousness of his subjects.  Most of his works manage to avoid the inherent dangers of his chosen themes.  Whether the study hall, synagogue, or mikvah, fish market, matzah bakery or wedding hall, the fabric of Jewish life is examined with compassion and insight only possible from an insider, an artist who has lived in his subject’s lives. 

A consistent series of images on exile that spans his long career, start with the aforementioned early drawing right on down to Refugees (2005).  Typically they contain 10 to 20 figures either marching in a line to some undefined location or standing in great anticipation of their imminent arrival.  The settings are almost always outdoors, with the exception of Refugees at Train Station (ca. 2000) that is paradoxically set on an elevated train station in Boro Park, Brooklyn. 

Refugees (2005) in this series is unusual, in that the figures are trudging directly towards the viewer with a sad little girl sporting a red dress being carried by her father on his shoulders. She is clearly representative of the entire group; helpless, exhausted and dependent on the strength of others.  He sees this as a permanent condition of the Jews; “We are always wandering, continuing to wander, even here. We have not arrived yet.  We are still on the way.”

Another favorite subject is the Hasidic Huppah, seen here in a recent painting.  Its merit exists in its extreme simplicity, the wedding party massed in two uneven groups around the radiating whiteness of the bride’s gown and veil.  The artist’s ability to pick out just enough detail to create a crowd of 11 attentive faces in a such a diminutive painting, only 14″ x 11″ is truly stunning. 

The four children woven into the wedding party gives the adult figures real scale while the overall space soars upward to contain the red huppah that shelters the celebrants; effectively floating over them is the barely visible Magen David.  By abstaining from dramatic emotions and details, Malnovitzer allows his composition to convey the true gravity of this holy moment.  The women on the left gaze at the bride both in awe and pride, while the groom attentively listens to the mesader kidushin, as the hopes and blessing of his future life are consecrated by G-d.

Another unusual image is a charming painting, Walking to the Synagogue (2005) that shows yet another facet of his creativity.  Two figures are walking on a rainy and windy day.  One is laboring with a cane, being helped by a friend.  The man with the cane walks hesitantly, each foot uncertain in the wet slippery street while the kind friend is seen from a peculiar perspective so that he appears to have only one leg.  The psychological tension between the two radically different figures is reflected in the ironic difference in appearance.  The man with two legs struggles while the “one-legged” man is assured and helpful.  Appearances are deceiving.

One work, Women at Prayer (2006) is a complex composition of married and unmarried women. On the right, four young women surround a young, married woman who is davening, her hair covered in a close-fitting scarf.  On the left, more married women daven with a beautiful concentration. 

In another recent painting, Women Praying (2006), the scene changes.  Here, a middle-aged woman sits in the foreground at the end of a bench of other women praying or saying Tehillim.  She is slouched over absorbed in the familiar words.  It is very likely a scene from a waiting room that reflects female piety in its most public aspect.  For many religious women, there is no such thing as a wasted moment that is not saved by the recitation of the Psalms of David.

Zvi Malnovitzer has shown in 40 years of constant, hard creative work that art and piety are not necessarily antithetical.  Rather, with sufficient education and sensitivity in both worlds, the privacy and intensity of piety can be made accessible within an aesthetic, that sees honestly and tellingly of the very human narrative that constantly unfolds in the Haredi universe.  That is quite an accomplishment.

Richard McBee is a painter and writer on Jewish Art.  Please feel free to contact him with comments at [email protected].