Jewish artists’ intertwined roots, identity on display

“You have his nose,” said a man I’ve never met before, pointing to a photo of Theodor Herzl displayed on the wall. 

There he was: Herzl, with his dark eyes, his ridged forehead and, according to the man next to me, my nose. 

Herzl, the father of modern Zionism, an Austro-Hungarian Jew who conceived the notion of a Jewish state while living in the Diaspora — and just one of many panels making up “The German Roots of Zionism” exhibition now on display at Hillel at UCLA. 

A major point of this exhibition was to reflect on the relationship between German Jewish identity and contemporary American life, so maybe — just maybe — my schnoz was one more poetic link, connecting me to Zionism’s utopian roots. 

The exhibition was one of three being celebrated on Oct. 27 when 100 intellectuals gathered for the Triple Art Opening, held at the Dortort Center for Creativity in the Arts at UCLA Hillel. Organized in conjunction with one another by Perla Karney, UCLA Hillel’s artistic director, they will be on display until Dec. 9. 

“The German Roots of Zionism,” located on the second floor of Hillel at UCLA, was intended to give context to the two other exhibitions: “WINGS” by Harriet Zeitlin (located, not by accident, on the staircase leading up to the third floor) and “Seek My Face” by Joshua Meyer (on view in the Spiegel and Dortort galleries, located on the third floor). According to Karney, both Zeitlin and Meyer are products of the German Jewish identity.

These three separate yet intertwined exhibits chronicle the evolution of Jewish identity, starting with its Zionist roots, ascending up the staircase with “WINGS” and eventually landing on the contemporary works of Meyer. Although Meyer and Zeitlin are, stylistically speaking, polar opposites, there’s a sense of closeness and intimacy with both of their approaches.

Zeitlin is a scavenger of sorts, recycling found objects and transforming them into art. It’s especially apparent when ascending the staircase at UCLA Hillel, where her artwork lines the walls, that one man’s trash is this woman’s treasure. Her installation “WINGS” is a series of whimsical portraits that use appropriated objects such as clogs and shoehorns on the canvas. A shoehorn becomes the head of a bird mid-flight; a quilt becomes the wingspan. Her colors are vibrant and bold, stylistically resonant of Japanese cranes.

Although she doesn’t consider her art Jewish, per se, Zeitlin, a Jewish-American of Ashkenazi ancestry, told the Journal about her installation, “This is my reaction to nature. Nature is God and God is nature.”

As Zeitlin’s work is airy and whimsical, Meyer’s work is brooding and grounded. Meyer’s oil-on-canvases aren’t crisp like a photo; rather, they are more like a photo zoomed in too many times. The result is pixelation, with viscous slabs of paint. The difficulty to discern details in his portraits makes the title of the show, “Seek My Face” (after a line extracted from Psalm 27), very relevant. It’s worth mentioning that Meyer only paints people he knows personally, so these portraits are meditations on his own personal relationships.

Artist Ruth Weisberg, former dean of fine arts at the University of Southern California, spoke on Meyer’s behalf (since the Boston-based artist was unable to make the opening). An established artist herself, she told the Journal, “Even though our work might not resemble each other’s that much, we’re passionately interested in the history of art, we have similar enthusiasm for particular artists, and we are also both very involved Jewishly.” She said that what makes their art Jewish is that “we have a strong sense of that identity, the history, and how that’s affected us. Yes, we are Jewish artists in the very large, ample definition.” 

Rabbi Aaron Lerner, who is early in his tenure as Hillel’s rabbi, made sure to mention during the opening’s public program that the room where Meyer’s work is displayed is filled with 200 to 250 UCLA students on a typical Shabbat. In fact, all gallery areas at UCLA Hillel are public spaces. 

These works being a part of such a thriving community, rather than being limited to a gallery room, proves their relevance. They are part of the conversation, the social landscape. They decorate the walls, in rooms where we dwell, pulsing with conversation.