SALVADOR DALI
"ALIYAH, THE
REBIRTH OF ISRAEL"
(Updated
8/24/2021)
Translated
into Hindi by Nikol Barton, 5/15/2018. (Web version)
Translat Translated into Urdu by Samuel Badree, 8/24/21 (Web version).
Translated into Sindhi by Samuel Badree, 8/24/21 (Web version).
Introduction,
David R. Blumenthal
Preface, Elliott King
Dali, The Jews, Judaism,
And Zionism , David R. Blumenthal
Commentary, David R. Blumenthal
I. Introductory
Image: Aliyah
(Plate 1)
II. Exile and Hope
"A
Voice is heard in Ramah" (Plate
2)
The
Wailing Wall (Plate 3)
"For
it is thy life and the length of thy days" (Plate 12)
"Return,
O virgin of Israel" (Plate 18)
III. The Yishuv
(the pre-State of Israel settlement)
"We shall go up at once and possess it" (Plate 4)
"Let them have dominion" (Plate 10)
The Pioneers of Israel (Plate 21)
On the Shores of Freedom (Plate 5)
"Arise, Barak, and lead thy captives" (Plate
17)
The Land at the Start of Jewish Settlement (Plate 22)
The Land Come to Life (Plate 23)
The Land of Milk and Honey (Plate 24)
IV. Shoah
Out of the Depths (Plate 6)
"Thou hast laid me in the nethermost pit"
(Plate 13)
"Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of
death" (Plate 14)
"I have set before thee life and death" (Plate
15)
V. Independence
A Moment in History (Plate 7)
Hatikvah (Plate 16)
Orah, Horah (Plate 11)
Angels of Rebirth (Plate 8)
The Battle of the Jerusalem Hills (Plate 19)
Victory: A Song of Thanksgiving (Plate 20)
The Price — Bereavement (Plate 9)
VI. The Final
Image: Eternal Covenant
(Plate 25)
David
R. Blumenthal
Jay
and Leslie Cohen Professor of Judaic Studies
Emory
University, Atlanta, GA
In
the year 1968, Israeli Independence Day fell on April 3rd. It was a very
important moment because the State of Israel was celebrating its 20th
anniversary. There was great excitement because everyone remembered the tense
years leading up to the establishment of the State, the War of Independence,
and the ensuing wars and struggles to survive and grow. In addition, Israel was
less than a year from the 1967 Six Day War which had been a stunning victory.
How should one celebrate the 20th anniversary?
Already
in 1967, Samuel Shore, the head of Shorewood Publishers, had an idea. Following
the example of the Chagall windows which, since 1962 had stood in the Hadassah
Hospital in Jerusalem, Shore decided to commission another great contemporary
artist, Salvador Dali, to do a set of 25 paintings on the theme of the renewal
of the Jewish people. So, Shore commissioned Dali to do “Aliyah, the Rebirth of
Israel” to be composed of 25 paintings and 250 sets of 25 lithographs, and he
wanted it done in time for the 20th anniversary celebration in April 1968.
Shore paid Dali $150,000 and he solicited the support of Israel Bonds to
display the originals at the Huntington Hartford Museum in New York. (The
lithographs were, I believe, displayed elsewhere and later. See Endnotes,
below.) Both the originals and the lithographs went on sale that Spring.
The
April 1968 issue of Hadassah
Magazine published especially for the 20th anniversary of the State
of Israel caught the excitement of Dali’s new work entitled “Aliyah, The
Rebirth of Israel” as follows:
An
epic history of the return of the Jewish people to their homeland — expressed
in 25 bold, dramatic, yet sensitive drawings, sketches and water-color
paintings by the surrealist master, Salvador Dali — will shortly be added of
the art treasure of Israel and museums and collectors throughout the world.
Appropriately
titled "Aliyah, The Rebirth of Israel," the series of paintings
captures the spirit of the Jews from the first days of the exile and for nearly
2,000 years in the diaspora until their final return to their cherished soil of
Israel. Embracing a wide spectrum of moods, from gaiety to deep drama to stark
tragedy, it culminates in the ultimate triumph of justice and the joyous
restoration of the nation.
The
world premiere exhibit of the series is scheduled for April 1 at the Gallery of
Modern Art (Huntington Hartford Museum) in New York, for the benefit of Bonds
for Israel. Following 20 days of public showing, lithographs of the set will go
on view in Israel and in leading cities of the Unites States and Europe.
Commissioned
by Shorewood Publishers, a New York firm noted for publications of art, Dali
devoted two years to the completion of this monumental task. His chronicles of
the people are clearly stamped with his own unique poetic expression. Some are
extremely lyrical, others sweeping and epic …
According
to Shorewood, following sale of the original paintings, 250 sets of lithographs
will be made available to leading museums and individual collectors. Portfolio
No. 1 will be presented as a gift to the Israel Museum in Jerusalem where an
exhibit of all the originals is slated to coincide with the celebration of the
20th anniversary of Israel's independence.
Europe's
two leading studios specializing in fine-art lithography — Fernard Mourlot's of
Paris and Wolfensgerger of Zurich — extended their facilities for the
conversion of the paintings into lithographs, each of which is signed by Dali.
After the stones necessary for each subject were prepared, the required number
of impressions were printed, following which the stones were destroyed, thereby
assuring that these lithographs will never be reprinted.
It is hard to
reconstruct the history of the originals and the lithographs but this is what I
think happened:
No
one knows where all the 25 originals are. As of May 2016, I have located the
following: “Aliyah,” the
iconic first image, was sold at auction on May 10, 2016 at Sotheby’s in New
York for $346,000 and I do not know where it is. “The Wailing Wall” is in
private hands in New York. “’Thou has laid me in the
nethermost pit’” is
in private hands in California. “Victory: A Song of Thanksgiving” was sold at
Sotheby’s on May 3, 2012 for $314,500 and I do not know where it is. “Orah,
Horah: Light and Joy” is
in private hands in New York.
As
to the 250 lithographic suites: As of May 2016, I am aware of the following: My
wife and I have one set in Atlanta (see below). There is another set in
Atlanta, purchased by someone after seeing the Exhibit at Emory University
Hillel. One set is about to be sold privately in New York. Another is in
Dallas. Thanks to the generosity of Ms. Francine Gani, there is a set on
permanent display in the entry lobby of the Shaare Zedek Hospital in Jerusalem.
The Israel Museum in Jerusalem has several copes (see Endnotes, below). Jean
Paul Delcourt has at least one set that has been on display in Israel (see
“Dali, the Jews, Judaism, and Zionism,” below). And one set is on display in
the Dali Museum in Figueres, Spain, on the top floor.
Introduction
to this Exhibit
In
the early 1980s, my wife, Ursula, and I were visiting Mr. and Mrs. Charles
Rutenberg, the parents of a former student, Rabbi Laurie Rutenberg. “Charlie,”
as he was known to all, offered to sell us his set of “Aliyah, the Rebirth of
Israel” which he had bought when it was first issued. Ursula, recalling that,
on our first date in 1965, I had taken her to see an exhibit of Dali in the
Huntington Hartford Museum in New York, decided to buy the suite for me as a
present. I have always cherished this gift and we have maintained it
assiduously in its original box, with the original introductory booklet
containing an essay by Prof. Gerson D. Cohen, an introductory letter by David
Ben Gurion, the first Prime Minister of the State of Israel, and a Preface by
A. Reynolds Morse. The box even contains the original flyer offering the suite
for sale. Art experts, as well as its provenance, confirm, then, the
authenticity of this set.
At
the time, this set, number 150 out of 250, was the only such set in Atlanta. As
long-time friends of Hillel at Emory we, together with the sponsors and patrons
of this Exhibit, were very pleased to present Dali’s “Aliyah, The Rebirth of
Israel” to the public as part of the dedicatory year for the Marcus Hillel
Center of Emory University. The use of the new exhibition space for this
premier Exhibit highlighted the grace and openness of the building as well as
the cultural scope of the work of Hillel at Emory. It was our hope that this
would be the first of many such exhibits, each of which would contribute to
Jewish culture at Emory University and the Atlanta Jewish community. Indeed,
the Exhibit traveled to other venues, including Brown University – Rhode Island
School of Design Hillel, University of Washington Hillel in Seattle, Denver
University Hillel, Boston University Hillel, and Columbus State University
(Columbus, GA).
The
Lithographs in this Exhibit
The
sequence of the lithographs in this Exhibit does not follow the sequence in the
small brochure that came with the set. Arranged by the publisher, that sequence
probably follows the order used by the two firms that prepared the lithographs.
That order, thus, does not follow any chronological or thematic pattern.
Further, it is not certain that that order was the sequence in which Dali
intended the lithographs to be displayed, if there was an original order at
all. It seemed reasonable, therefore, to rearrange the prints in this Exhibit
in a thematic-historical sequence. The lithographs, then, are displayed in six
thematic motifs though the numbering of the prints follows the publisher’s
brochure for reference purposes, as follows (original plate numbers in
parentheses) as follows:
The Introductory
Image
Aliyah
(Plate 1)
Exile and Hope
"A Voice is heard in Ramah" (Plate 2)
The Wailing Wall (Plate 3)
"For it is thy life and the length of thy days" (Plate 12)
"Return, O virgin of Israel" (Plate 18)
The Yishuv
(the pre-State of Israel settlement)
"We shall go up at once and possess it" (Plate 4)
"Let them have dominion" (Plate 10)
The Pioneers of Israel (Plate 21)
On the Shores of Freedom (Plate 5)
"Arise, Barak, and lead thy captives" (Plate 17)
The Land at the Start of Jewish Settlement (Plate 22)
The Land Come to Life (Plate 23)
The Land of Milk and Honey (Plate 24)
Shoah
Out of the Depths (Plate 6)
"Thou hast laid me in the nethermost pit" (Plate 13)
"Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death" (Plate
14)
"I have set before thee life and death" (Plate 15)
Independence
A Moment in History (Plate 7)
Hatikvah (Plate 16)
Orah, Horah (Plate 11)
Angels of Rebirth (Plate 8)
The Battle of the Jerusalem Hills (Plate 19)
Victory: A Song of Thanksgiving (Plate 20)
The Price — Bereavement (Plate 9)
The Final Image
Eternal
Covenant (Plate 25)
The prints themselves
measure 22" by 28". A large number of the prints, 14 out of 25
(plates 2,4,6,10,12-14,15,17-18,20,22-24), are captioned directly or indirectly
by a quotation from the Bible. Four prints deal with the shoah (plates
6,13,14). Two seem to have no relation to the theme of the suite (plates 8,10).
Ten (plates 13,15-21,23) of the original artworks are signed and dated 1967.
All the lithographs are signed by Dali.
The captions to the
plates preserve the biblical quotations as given in the brochure. However, in
the commentary, I have given my own translation of these texts. Many of the
comments are followed by references for further reading; these are, perforce,
very limited. Each image and comment is followed by a
"zoomed image" for closer examination.
This Exhibit of
Salvador Dali’s “Aliyah, the Rebirth of Israel,” which travels with printouts
of this website and a podcast, is available for presentation elsewhere. There
is no charge for this except to cover transportation to and from Atlanta, and
proper security, artistic care, and insurance for the Exhibit. In addition, I
and my wife are glad to come, at the cost of the host, to the opening and I
will deliver a talk introducing the Exhibit. Persons interested should contact
me at: reldrb@emory.edu.
Endnote:
There seems to be some confusion concerning the very earliest history of
"Aliyah, the Rebirth of Israel" on three issues. First, a brochure
issued by Shorewood entitled, "The Miracle of the Aliyah," indicates
that there were only 24 originals and lithographs. The number 24 is confirmed
in the New York Sunday News, 4/30/1967, and in the Daily News, 3/10/1967. The
press release of the Gallery of Modern Art Including the Huntington Hartford
Collection that announces the exhibit for April 2-22, 1967, however, indicates
25, and that is the correct number. Furthermore, the Shorewood brochure
indicates that there were 25 non-commerical suites issued. However, Doubletake
Galleries indicate: "There were 50 sets dedicated for the collaborators,
25 on Arches paper and 25 on Japon paper. Both versions were lettered A/J -
Y/J.” The Israel Museum in Jerusalem has "HC" (that is, "hors
commerce") edition "J/J”; I do not know on which paper. Shaare Zedek
Hospital in Jerusalem has edition “K,” otherwise unknown to me; again, I do not
know on which paper. I am aware of portfolio “O/J” which is in private hands; I
do not know on which paper. Finally, the article from Hadassah Magazine cited
above indicates that the first portfolio was to be given to the Israel Museum.
The Museum Card Catalogue, however, lists "Copy 1/125" (this is a
mistake as it should be "1/250.") In any case, the Museum does not
have the first portfolio; it actually has portfolio "J/J” though, as
indicated, I do not know on which paper. The Israel Museum does have another
suite, given to it later, but I do not know the number.
Endnote: There also is some
confusion on who commissioned Dali to do "Aliyah, the Rebirth of
Israel." On the one hand, the Daily News article cited above indicates
that Samuel Shore, the head of Shorewood Publishers, wanted to find someone who
was not "caught up in his own subjectivity" to commemorate the
rebirth of Israel in art. It was, then, Samuel Shore who chose Salvador Dali
and, according to the Daily News, paid him a fee of $150,000 to do the
originals. Dali is said to have begun work on them in 1966, though the dated
paintings are all dated to 1967. On the other hand, according to Hadassah Magazine, the
world premiere of the exhibit at the Huntington Hartford was "for the
benefit of Israel Bonds." This seems confirmed by a picture of Dali and
Bess Myerson contained in Not
Just a Bond: A Bond with Israel (ed. D. Strober, Talpiyot Press,
New York and Jerusalem: 2010; page 49), a copy of which was kindly provided to
me by the Israel Bonds office in New York. It does not seem to be the case that
the originals, or the lithographs, were sold for the benefit of Israel Bonds.
Rather, these were sold for profit by Shorewood while the Opening was a benefit
(fund-raiser?) for Israel Bonds in honor of the 20th anniversary of the
founding of the State of Israel.
Dr.
Elliott H. King
Guest
Curator, "Dalí: The Late Work," High Museum of Art, Atlanta, 2010
Salvador
Dalí (1904-1989) is one of the most famous and popular artists of the twentieth
century. Until recently, however, most critics and art historians
considered only a small portion of his prolific output — that executed between
1929 and 1939, when he was in direct contact with the Paris Surrealists — to be
worthy of serious study. Over the past
decade, there has been a revitalization of interest
in Dalí's art and writing of the 1940s through the 1980s, though that
"renaissance" has concerned chiefly his paintings — his 1950s
"Nuclear Mysticism," his 1960s proto-Pop Art paintings, and his 1970s
experiments with optical illusions — and, to a lesser extent, his films.
His enormous body of limited-edition graphic suites, in contrast, continues to
await proper reassessment. The Exhibit, Aliyah, The Rebirth of
Israel (1968), organized as part of the dedicatory year for the Marcus
Hillel Center of Emory University, leads that effort, buttressing the growing critical awareness and appreciation of
Dalí's later work through its reconsideration of what is surely one of the
artist's most visually appealing — and historically significant — graphic
commissions.
Despite
Dalí's perceived distance from the avant-garde in the later twentieth century,
the 1960s were his most prolific years in terms of sheer volume, thanks largely
to the graphic suites that became a steady income stream through the efforts of
his business manager, Captain John Peter Moore.[1] Though
ever popular with collectors and the public at-large, critics and scholars have
widely judged these graphics as predominantly commercial ventures with little
artistic interest or merit. Dalí did not aid his case: "Each morning
after breakfast, I like to start the day by earning $20,000," he boasted,
referring to the ease with which he could sign stacks of printed lithographs
for a ludicrously quick profit. Yet neglecting the graphics has meant a
lacuna for Dalí scholarship: after all, their creation comprised the vast majority of the artist's 1960s and 1970s activity,
with literally hundreds of post-war commissions that ranged from Boccaccio's Decameron
and Shakespeare's Macbeth to Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland,
Dante's Divine Comedy, Milton's Paradise Lost, Leopold von
Sacher-Masoch's Venus in Furs, writings by the Marquis de Sade, and The
Holy Bible. Further, just as fresh investigations into the inspirations
underlying his much-ridiculed religious paintings have brought to light a much
more profound intention than previously assumed, so explorations into Dalí's
graphics reveal a surprising knowledge of his subjects, a seriousness that he
adopted as a professional artist, and a refreshing willingness to experiment
with new styles and media.
The Exhibit's most important contribution
may be the welcome attention it gives to the artist's direct references to
Jewish history, which have been heretofore dismissed as inconsequential or
ignored altogether. Through the curators' choice to rearrange the lithographs
in a thematic-historical sequence that underscores Dalí's quotations from
Jewish history, Aliyah is seen here afresh and with newfound
gravitas.
Some viewers may be surprised that the Aliyah
illustrations are so loose and expressionistic in contrast with the
refined, photographic quality characteristic of Dalí's paintings. One of
the appealing elements of Dalí's graphics is the unusual means by which he
would often create the original gouaches or, in this case, watercolors.
This began in 1957 with his first lithograph series, Pages choisies de Don Quichotte de la
Mancha, for which he pioneered the use of what he dubbed
"bulletism": shooting the plates with paint-filled bullets using an
antique arquebus. The same "splatter" effect can be seen in
several of the Aliyah paintings, aligning them not only with earlier Abstract
Expressionism (albeit with a Dalinian flair) but suggesting an element of
performance as well.
Also noteworthy, four of the Aliyah paintings
relate directly to the major 1966-1967 oil painting Tuna
Fishing,
a mammoth canvas (approximately 9 x 13 ft) intended as a hallucinogenic
compendium of Dalí's artistic influences, from 19th academic
painting through Pop Art. Two of the Aliyah paintings relate to
the spearing of fish — "We shall go up at once and possess it" (plate
4), in which the spear in Tuna
Fishingis
replaced by the flag of Israel, and "Let them have dominion" (plate
10) — while another two — Angels of Rebirth (plate 8) and "Yea though I
walk through the valley of the shadow of death" (plate 14) — quote Tuna
Fishing's
abstruse Op Art sections. These quotations may be "paranoiac"
in nature, by which I mean that they incorporate Dalí's "paranoiac
critical method": a self-induced "psychosis" the artist
theorized in the early 1930s that encouraged him to misread his environment and
thereby tap his subconscious. This most directly guided the double-image
paintings that typified his 1930s output, though the same mechanism directed
his illustrative projects as well: rather than directly illustrating a text, he
instead illustrated the images that the text invoked for him. As the
artist wrote in 1934, "It is too evident that the 'illustrative fact'
cannot in any way restrain the course of my delirious ideas, but that, on the
contrary, it makes them bloom. Therefore for me, of course, it can only
be a question of paranoiac illustrations."[2] This
may explain the seemingly unrelated images included in Aliyah — specifically
plates 8 and 10. As for the links Dalí makes between Aliyah and Tuna
Fishing,
one can speculate that in 1968 Tuna
Fishingwas
still clearly on Dalí's mind, having consumed him for the past two years, and
so when his imagination was unleashed upon Aliyah, it was to this
reservoir that his thoughts turned — not out of lethargy but for reasons that
were possibly as mysterious and intriguing to himself as they are to viewers
today.
While the Exhibit substantiates a fascinating historical context for Aliyah, it does not shy away from important questions and controversies. Did Dalí have any sincere connections to Jews, Judaism, or Zionism? David Blumenthal addresses this query in his essay, inviting investigation and speculation. The Surrealists famously attacked Dalí from the 1940s onwards as an anti-Semite, though the basis for this is unclear. In retort, Dalí identified his heroes as Sigmund Freud and Albert Einstein, and it should be noted that he also maintained a friendship and productive thirty-year collaboration with the Jewish Latvian-American photographer Philippe Halsman.[3] Adding to the mystery, nearly a decade before painting Aliyah, Dalí planned to include a scene in his unfinished film The Prodigious Story of the Lacemaker and the Rhinoceros (1954-62) in which Paul Goldman's 1957 photograph of David Ben-Gurion doing a headstand at Sharon Hotel beach would transform into a skull.[4]
What
might be surmised from this about the artist's personal — or
"paranoiac" — views of Judaism? Whatever his intention, it
could not have been straightforward. "I hate simplicity in all its
forms," Dalí wrote in 1935, and with this in mind, I hope that the
Exhibit, Aliyah, The Rebirth of Israel, leads to further discussion and
(re)discovery, not only of Dalí's "Jewish" works but of his graphic
production as a whole... and all the inherent complexities.
DALI,
THE JEWS, JUDAISM, AND ZIONISM
David
R. Blumenthal
Beginning in the
mid 1960s, Dali created a series of suites and individual works that some
consider his "Jewish" art. These include: "Aliyah" (1968),
"The Song of Songs" (1971), "The Twelve Tribes of Israel"
(1971), "Paradise Lost" (1974), "Our Prophets" (1975),
"Moses and Monotheism" (1975), and others, some of which, like the
"Menorah" and "Western Wall" sculptures (1982) appeared
very late in his lifetime. Most of these works were brought together by Jean
Paul Delcourt in an exhibit entitled "Shalom Dali" that was displayed
in the Performing Arts Center in in the President's
Residence in Jerusalem, Israel (June 2002) and then in Rishon Le-Zion,
Israel (Sept-Oct. 2002).
The question
arises: How serious was Dali in these "Jewish" works? Did he have
some latent sympathy for Jews and Jewish culture and history or, was this
entirely a commercial venture of some sort? Scholars more familiar with the
details will have to solve this question. Here, I summarize what I have learned
and present my own surmise.
Some have
speculated that Dali had Jewish ancestry; that he had a marrano, that
is, a Jew forced to convert to Catholicism, in the family (Jean Paul Delcourt
cited in Iris Mendel, below). This thesis, however, is firmly dismissed by Ian Gibson,
who maintains in Chapter One of his The Shameful Life of Salvador Dali
(Norton, 1997) that Dali in fact claimed Moorish descent; that he had a
moresco, that is, a Muslim forced to convert to Catholicism, in the family.
Gibson points out that "Dali" is a common name in the Arabic
countries along the northern littoral of the Mediterranean and has the meaning
of 'leader' (http://www.nytimes.com/books/first/g/gibson-dali.html?_r=2).
Some have
speculated that Gala had Jewish ancestry through either her grandfather
or her father (Frank Hunter of the Dali Archives in an email to me, 11/28/2010,
referring me to "Gala," a film produced by IMDb in 2003 (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0373854/)).
This thesis, however, is firmly dismissed by Tim McGirk in his Wicked Lady:
Salvador Dali's Muse (Headline, 1990), who relates that Gala's real name
was Helena Deluvina Diakonoff and that she had claimed that her mother married
twice, she being the daughter of the first husband who ran off. Her mother, not
being able to obtain a divorce, then lived with a converted Jew named Diakonoff
whose name was a common Jewish name in Russian circles. McGirk cites Robert
Descharnes who cites Gala's sister, Lida, who claimed that the first husband
died childless and that Gala was, thus, the child of the second 'Jewish'
'husband.' Lida further claimed that Gala so disliked the Jewishness of the
name that she changed it. McGirk goes so far as to speculate that Gala simply
made up the story of the first husband's paternity. Nicolas Descharnes, the son
of Robert Descharnes, both experts on Dali (http://www.fineartregistry.com/mediacenter/2010/robert-descharnes-worlds-foremost-expert-on-dali-works.php)
confirmed the following to me (email, 10/19/10): "We believe that Gala was
from a Jewish family. But I remember having a visit with her sister, Lida, in
Vienna, who passed away a few years ago. My father, during this visit, asked
her if the family was Jewish and she denied it."
Some have speculated
that Dali had a cultural or religious sympathy with the Jews, especially
after the Six Day War of 1967. This would seem to be confirmed by Dali's
dedicatory words when sculptures of the "Menorah" were put on the
market in 1982. (The translation is my own from the abbreviated Hebrew version
of Mendel (below, 23); I cannot locate the original. For a longer English
version, see http://alviks.com/ved1
eng.html):
You — the Jewish people, the chosen people, the children of Abraham, Isaac, and
Jacob. As a sign of appreciation for the firmness of your way in observing the
tradition of the fathers ɠI created this "Menorah" and this
"Western Wall." As you pray to your ancestors, accompanied by your
unshakeable faith, I want to express in the clear light of these aged symbols,
my great admiration for your people.
This thesis,
however, is firmly dismissed by Iris Mendel ("The Dali Industries: On the
Exhibit 'Shalom Dali' at the President's Residence, Jerusalem, and the
Performing Arts Center, Rishon Le-Zion" (Hebrew), Studio, Art Magazine,
138 (Nov.-Dec. 2002) 19-23) who, first, went to great lengths to show that the
entire "Shalom Dali" exhibit was the work of Jean Paul Delcourt:
In
November 1980, they signed two contracts between them, according to which
Delcourt received, in return for half a million dollars, the rights to works of
two images of Dali which had appeared in print and gouache sketch form: the
"Wall" and the "Menorah" (citing an Israeli newspaper and www.daliuniversal.com). Delcourt did
not delay. He opened the company, Dali Universal, and began to create various
objects based on the two images: small sculptures, mezuzot, jewelry,
medallions, and key chains of the "Wall" and the "Menorah"
in which are set the signature of Dali. In 1988, after many efforts, meetings,
marketing trips, and public relations, Delcourt concretized his project
entitled "The Menorah of Peace" — the gift of a giant sculpture of the
"Menorah," five meters tall which bears Dali's signature, and its
placement at the entrance to the Ben Gurion airport. Delcourt, who claims that
Dali felt a closeness to Israel because of his Jewish grandfather, continues
with his double mission: that of making the Jewish work of Dali available to
the whole world and, more hidden, advancing the sale of Dali's work ɠ[Delcourt]
writes in his catalogue, "The goal of my life is to bring to the world, by
means of this traveling exhibit which serves as an 'artistic ambassador' for
Israel, the culture and history of the Jewish people with the purpose of
breaking down barriers and to bridge between religions and nations."
With respect to the
Dali "dedication" of the "Menorah" sculptures, Mendel adds:
It
is not at all clear when and in what forum these words were said though they
became the oracles upon which the exhibit rests and the raison d'être for the
project of Delcourt: "I am only in the end fulfilling the last will and
testament of the artist." In great measure, he [Delcourt] is correct: Dali
was the first to turn his art into business that had financial value and
Delcourt is following in his footsteps.
It does not seem
likely, then, that Dali's "Jewishness" had any cultural or religious
base.
Some have speculated
that Dali had a political or historical sympathy with the Jews. However,
Dali's political connections ranged from the early socialism/communism of the
Surrealist movement to a flirtation with Hitler and then with Franco (Hayim
Finkelstein, "Dali and Fascism, Dali and the Jews" (Hebrew), Studio,
Art Magazine, 138 (Nov.-Dec. 2002) 24-29; and elsewhere.) This led to
repeated charges that Dali (and Gala) were antisemites (Finkelstein, 27, citing
Gibson, Shameful Life, 550). It is hard to know how much of this
"antisemitism" was genuine and how much of it came from financial
conflict with Jewish art dealers. The following, however, is clear: "Dali
said to me personally in February 1939 — and I was alert enough to conclude
clearly that he was very serious — that the key problem that stood before the
world today is the topic of race; that it is obligatory for all the white races
to unite and to bring to complete subjugation all the colored races"
(Finkelstein, 26, citing Breton, Surrealism and Painting (Harper and
Row, 1972), 146). Given, then, Dali's monarchist and racist tendencies, it is
not likely that he had any hidden political sympathy for Jews, Judaism, or
Zionism.
Some have
speculated that Dali's "Jewish" interest was crass, cynical
exploitation, especially of the "Jewish market." Dali's love of
money was legendary. He is reported to have said, "I like to earn $10,000
before I get out of bed" and he would promptly sign blank pieces of fine
paper to be used for prints. Thus, too, Mendel (23):
In light of everything said above, it is reasonable to assume that the great commercial activity of Dali and his helpers in an area in which many Jews were active contributed to the sudden sympathy of Dali for the Jewish people — a sympathy not expressed in his earlier and ordered work — and to the creation of works that dealt with Jewish themes of the type presented in the exhibit "Shalom Dali" in Rishon LeZion and in the President's Residence. It is reasonable to assume that these were commissioned suites whose content was dictated in advance. It is clear that they were done from photographs that, apparently, were given to Dali by dealers on the assumption that there would be a 'Jewish market' for the printsɮ Dali's love for money is perhaps the only topic about Dali that is not subject to differences of opinion.
Thus, too,
Finkelstein (29):
There is no doubt that, in New York in the 1970s, Dali could not let rumors about his antisemitism detract from his image in the eyes of the consumers and art dealers, many of whom were Jews. To rehabilitate his stature, his helpers and the administrators of his affairs worked hard to establish relations between him and Jewish and Israeli personalities (Dali was very proud of a picture of Moshe Dayan which the latter gave and inscribed to him). The suites of prints on Jewish and Zionist themes that begin in 1967 and continue to the middle of the 1970s are an integral part of these efforts, especially after the Six Day War when the image of Israel became valuable merchandise. In my opinion, there is no authentic voice at all in these suites on the themes of Zionism and Judaismɮ In these suites there reigns a 'material exhaustion' and one can see that the arbitrariness was only for its own sake. When he began these suites of prints, the big paintings (in both sense of the word [important and large]) were already behind him, even as the last of them had their worth and stature in questionɮ the trivialization of these prints — both as art and with everything that has to do with matters Jewish or Israeli.
Strangely, I know
of a parallel case: Jovan Obican, a Yugoslav artist, made a good
living painting Yugoslav peasants. At one point, the same peasants began
appearing in “Jewish” settings: under a chuppah
(a traditional Jewish wedding canopy), as a klezmer
(traditional East European Jewish) band, etc. I happened to meet his son, Lazar
Obican, at a Jewish arts exhibition and, after exploring our non-artistic
connections, I asked how his father had come to do “Jewish” art. He replied to
me, as he did to others: “Jovan Obican was encouraged by friends to add more
Jewish influence to his work and in the mid-1960s he began reading books about
the tradition and history of the Jewish people. Lazar Obican, who grew up
helping and learning from his father, obtained the books and sometimes read
them aloud while his father painted” (http://articles.sun-sentinel.com/1987-05-01/news/8701280320_1_jewish-influence-jewish-people-work).
The thesis of crass
moneymaking as the main motif of the later Dali, and especially in his
"Jewish" art, is certainly possible. For sure, Delcourt exploited
Dali. Delcourt had a license to do so, and so he did it legally; but it was
clear exploitation. The Dali signature on the medallion commemorating the 3000th
anniversary of the city of Jerusalem that was issued in 1995, a full six years
after Dali's death in 1989, was one of a series of gross examples. However, the
thesis of crass moneymaking as applied to Dali himself has been questioned
seriously by Elliott King ("Dali After 1940: From Surreal Classicism to
Sublime Surrealism," Salvador Dali: The Late Work (High Museum of
Art, Atlanta, [2010]), 12-55) and Hank Hine, "The Salvador Dali
Museum," Ibid., 160-67). King argues persuasively that, in his
cosmological/scientific motifs and in his religious motifs, Dali's art was not
simply about self-promotion but about expressing these motifs in art as he knew
it (21, 26). In this sense, the late Dali is a continuation of the 'serious'
artist of the early Dali. Hine, too, maintains: "In this new century,
Dali's work can at last be seen outside the shadow of his flamboyant
personality and in the context of other artists of his era" (165).
What, then, does
account for the large number of “Jewish” works in the late Dali?
The case of “Aliyah” is central. On the one hand, we have a remarkable
attention to detail: The Hebrew of “'For it is thy life and the length of thy
days'” is so clear that it can be read. The figures in "A Moment in
History" can be identified, as can the name of the ship in "On the
Shores of Freedom" and the song in "Hatikvah."
Fourteen out of the twenty five prints are captioned directly or indirectly by
a quotation from the Bible, and three prints deal with the shoah. On the other
hand, there is nothing atomic, no pop-art, no science, no hyperrealist
painting, no cosmology, and no experimentation. So, what was
Dali’s commitment to “Aliyah, The Rebirth of Israel”?
It
seems to me that it was not an obsession with moneymaking or a desire to
develop the “Jewish market.” Nor was it a need to rectify his reputation as an
antisemite that brought Dali to use Jewish themes. It seems to me, too, that it
was also not a quirk of his or Gala’s ancestry, or sympathy with Jews, Jewish
culture and history, or the Jewish State. Rather, as I see it, this was a commission and Dali
executed it seriously (see Mendel, above). Shoreham had
commissioned this. Dali had Jewish friends in New York who helped him with the
material, though we do not know who these friends were (Nicolas Descharnes in
an email to me, 10/19/10). And Dali did his work -- as, indeed, artists from
time immemorial have accepted commissions and then created serious art. Bach
and Mozart certainly did this. Portrait painters and sculptors frequently work
on commission. Lecturers frequently give serious performances for pay. A
commission may not always provoke the most experimental art forms, but
commissions do yield authentic art. Indeed, Dali’s portraits are not his most
experimental work. His portraits of Mrs.
Ruth Daponte (1965) and Countess
Ghislaine d'Oultrement (1960) are solid portraits even though they are not
typical of Dali's more experimental and creative talent. Similarly, in light of
Elliott King's reevaluation of the late Dali (see above), "Aliyah, the
Rebirth of Israel" was one of a series of suites that Dali did in the
1960s and 1970s such as: "Twelve
Signs of the Zodiac" (1967), "Much Ado About
Shakespeare" (1968), "Marquis de
Sade" (1969), "Anamorphoses" and "Aurelia" (1972),
"La Bestiaire de La Fontaine" and "Paradise
Lost" (1974), and more -- plus his "Divine
Comedy" (various versions in the 1960s). All these suites do not constitute
Dali's most serious, experimental work but they are an integral part of his
total effort as a serious artist.
This,
it seems to me, is the most reasonable explanation for Dali’s work on “Aliyah,
the Rebirth of Israel” – that this was a
serious execution of a serious commission, authentic even if not experimental
-- though the argument of crass exploitation cannot be ruled out.
There are two
websites that have the entire "Aliyah, The Rebirth of Israel" suite
on display: Lockport
Street Gallery and Doubletake
Gallery. The Lockport site has a convenient list of the prints by title and
the Doubletake site has a zoomed image for enlarging each print. Both sites are
commercial and have prints for purchase. I am grateful to Bob Varner of
Doubletake Gallery and to John Bates of the Lockport Street Gallery who allowed
us to copy their web-based images of each of the prints for this presentation.
I am also grateful to Daniel Weiss for the high resolution photographs of
several of the lithographs.
I wish to express
very special thanks, first, to my wife for the gift of this wonderful work of
art, and for the idea of creating and traveling this Exhibit. Special thanks go
to Michael Rabkin and the staff of Emory Hillel in Atlanta, GA, and to its
sponsors, who were brave enough to undertake the first exposition of this
Exhibit, as well as to all the other host institutions and their staffs. Thanks
also go to Dr. Elliott King, curator of the exhibit at the High Museum
entitled, “Dali: The Late Work,” who was very helpful in guiding us on
displaying this work. My gratitude also goes out to Mr. and Mrs. Andre Bernard,
good friends, who sponsored part of the costs of traveling this Exhibit.
COMMENTARY
David
R. Blumenthal
I.
Introductory Image
Aliyah
(Plate #1)
The Hebrew word aliyah
means 'ascent'; it is used to describe going up steps, or climbing a mountain.
In biblical Hebrew, the term came to mean 'to ascend to Jerusalem' in
pilgrimage. In later Hebrew, it was broadened to mean 'to ascend to the Land of
Israel.' All travel to the Land of Israel, and more particularly to Jerusalem,
is an ascent, a going-up to a place that is holy, special. In religious
tradition, one also 'ascends' to the reading of Torah when it is read ritually
in the synagogue.
In secular Jewish
thought, aliyah means 'to go to live in the Land of Israel' and, after
the establishment of the State, 'to go to live in the State of Israel.' In this
modern sense, aliyah means a commitment to live the life of the Jewish
people in its ancestral land, no matter what the hardships. After centuries of
oppression in the exile, aliyah is a commitment to the rebirth of the
Jewish people, to the Renaissance of the Jewish spirit, in its own space. Aliyah
embodies the philosophy of Jewish national renewal that is Zionism.
Some 'ascended' of
their own free will; these were the halutzim, the pioneers who settled
the land, defended it, and built the institutions of the evolving Jewish state.
Others 'ascended' because they had no alternative or because they felt no
reason to remain where they were. Rejected by the world, they sought refuge in
the Land of Israel.
Dali's first image,
which became the icon for this whole suite, captures this modern, Zionist
spirit of 'ascent to the Land of our People' for the purpose of creating a vital
Jewish life as individuals and as a people. It expresses the defiance of the
Zionist vision that seeks to reconstitute Jewish life in spite of the Jew
hatred that surrounded Jews in the diaspora. Note the flag of the State of
Israel across the breast of the pioneer and the head raised in defiance and
pride. The body, like the one in "We shall go up at once," is based
on two images in the Altar
of Zeus in the Temple
of Pergamum. These images also appear in "Tuna Fishing"
(M. Grard, Dali [De Draeger, France: 1968] 174, and especially in an unfinished
version of that great painting.
For further reading
on the Zionist movement, see Talmud, Kiddushin 69a and A. Hertzberg, The
Zionist Idea, and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zionism.
On the Jewish star
(Star of David), see "Thou hast laid me in the
nethermost pit."
II.
Exile and Hope
"A
voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation and bitter weeping; Rachel weeping for her
children; she refuseth to be comforted for her children, because they are
not" (Jeremiah 31:15) (Plate
#2)
In 586 B.C.E., the
Babylonians under their king, Nebuchadnezzar, conquered Jerusalem, burned the
Temple, killed many Jews, and exiled others to Babylonia. Psalm 137 captures
this moment very well:
By
the waters of Babylon, there we sat,
sat
and wept, as we remembered Zion.
There,
on the weeping willows, we hung our harps.
For,
there, our captors had asked us for songs
and
our tormentors required us to be happy, saying:
"Sing
us some of the songs of Zion!"
How
could we sing the song of the Lord on foreign soil?!
"If
I forget you, O Jerusalem, may my right hand be forgotten.
May
my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth
if
I do not remember you,
if
I do not do not make you the most important of my joys."
"Remember,
O Lord, against the Edomites the day of Jerusalem,
[when]
they said, 'Strip her. Strip her to her very foundations.'"
O,
predatory daughter of Babylon,
happy
is He Who will pay you back what you deserve for the way you treated us!
Happy
is he who will seize your babies and smash them against the rocks!
The very beautiful
quotation that is the title of this print is from the Book of Jeremiah. It
describes the mourning of the matriarch, Rachel, for her children who have been
killed or who have gone into exile in Babylonia. She refuses any comfort
concerning them because they are not present; they "are not"; they
are in exile.
The same motif is
taken up by Rashi, the most famous medieval commentator to the Bible. In
discussing Jacob's deathbed command to his son Joseph (Genesis 48:7), Rashi,
drawing on earlier sources, puts the following words into the mouth of Jacob:
"Know that I buried her [your mother, Rachel] on the way to Efrat which is
Bethlehem so that she would be a help to her children when [the Babylonian
general] Nebuzaradan would exile them. They would pass that way, and Rachel
would come out of her grave, and cry and seek mercy for them."
This quotation
represents the opposite pole of the Zionist vision: the mood of mourning, of
sadness. It is the realization that we were once whole and are now fragmented,
persecuted, hated by the world. We are absent from the Land, devoid of the
Presence of our God, cut off from the roots of our literature and our language.
Exile, galut, is the opposite of aliyah.
Dali's print, in
somber colors, captures the desolation, the weeping which our mother, Rachel,
feels when she realizes that our place is empty. Note the beautiful woman /
child to the left.
The
Wailing Wall (Plate #3)
The "Temple of
Solomon" was built on a rounded hilltop in approximately 950 B.C.E. It
lasted almost 400 years, after which, it destroyed by the Babylonian king,
Nebuchadnezzar, in 586 B.C.E. The Temple, however, was rebuilt as the
"Second Temple" 70 years later, after the return of the Jews from
Babylon. When Herod became king in the first century C.E., he decided to engage
in several major building projects, one of which was a new temple mount and a
new temple. So, he built a very large platform that covered the top of the
hill, forming what is now known as the "Temple Mount." The platform
is very large, as aerial photographs show. It was one of the major building
projects of the Roman Empire, itself known for its spectacular building
program.
On this platform,
Herod built his own (Second) Temple, which was destroyed by the Romans in 70
C.E. Nothing remains of that Temple, not even the walls. What does remain are
the retaining walls of the platform that Herod built. They are the only remnant
of the time when the Temple still stood. The Dome of the Rock and the Al-Aqsa
Mosque are later Islamic buildings.
The Holy of Holies
in the Temple was the place where God was said to reside; it was closest to the
western retaining wall. This retaining wall, then, as the physical remnant of
Herod's (Second) Temple that was closest to the Holy of Holies and, hence, to
God's real Presence among the people, became the place of pilgrimage to which
all Jews went to lament the destruction of the Temple and the earlier Jewish
state, and to mourn the exile of the Jewish people. Known as "The Western
Wall," "The Wailing Wall," or simply as "The Wall" or
"The Kotel," it is the place where, even today, one feels closest to
God's physical Presence among us. One prays, and one brings one's deepest
prayers on slips of paper and inserts them into the Wall, at this holy
site.
The Wall is
actually quite long and only a small part of it is visible today, even after
the Israelis created a large plaza in front of it following the liberation of
Jerusalem in 1967. Today, one can take a tour of the tunnels under the city and
follow the Wall along a good part of its course.
Interestingly,
Dali's representation of the Wailing Wall shows it in its form before the
liberation of Jerusalem and the construction of the current plaza. Note the
very narrow area in front of the Wall itself. This would seem to be good
evidence that Dali had not visited the site itself and did the work from a
photograph, as he did for other works of art. Note, too, that men and women are
praying together, as was the custom before 1967.
"For
it is thy life and the length of thy days" (Deuteronomy 30:20) (Plate
#12)
At the end of his
life, Moses spoke to the children of Israel and said, "Behold, I set
before you this day, life and goodness, and death and evil. In commanding you
this day to love the Lord, your God, to walk in His ways, to observe His
commandments, decrees, and statutes, you will live and be fruitful, and the
Lord, your God, will bless you in the Land which you are coming to inheritɮ I
call heaven and earth this day as witness for you that I have set before you
life and death, blessing and curse; choose life, so that you may live, you and
your seed; to love the Lord, your God, to listen to His voice, and to cling to
Him; for He is your life and the length of your days, so that you dwell in the
Land that He swore to give to your forefathers, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob"
(Deuteronomy 30:15-20). (On this verse, see also "I
have set before thee life and death".)
These verses are
the essence of God's promise to the Jewish people: that they should remain
faithful to God and that God will bless them, particularly in the Land of their
ancestors. These verses are, therefore, the root of religious Zionism, as
opposed to other forms of secular Zionism.
The rabbis of later
generations realized that it is hard to "love" God directly, to
"cling" to God directly. They also realized that God's commandments,
decrees, and statutes were not so simple to understand. So, the rabbis
developed the idea that the Jews should love, cling to, and observe God's
revelation; that is, the Torah. When a Jew adheres to the Torah by study and
observance, a Jew "loves" God.
Dali has captured
this shift in meaning nicely in this lithograph in which the quotation about
God is displayed as a Torah scroll being written by a rabbi figure. Note, too,
the English translation in the title that substitutes "it" for
"He"; I have restored the original in my translation in the
commentary.
A Torah scroll is
written with a quill, in black ink, on white parchment. The portion this scribe
is writing is the vision of Jacob's ladder (Genesis 28:10-22). The text is
remarkably accurate (see also Dali's "Poems of Mao Tse-Toung" (1967)
where the Chinese is accurate), except that it is written upside-down; i.e., so
that the reader can read it, not as it should be written -- so the writer could
read and check it.
Elliott King adds:
"Dali was very interested in the story of Jacob's Ladder, so the ladders
may be an allusion to that. I thought it was interesting that the scribe
is specifically writing about Jacob's ladder. At various points, Dali
writes about angels ascending and descending RNA and that the DNA double-helix
is like Jacob's Ladder. In one of my favourite suites, 10 Recipes for
Immortality (in the High exhibit), Dali amalgamates Trajan's Column, Jacob's
Ladder and DNA." This may also account for the ladders in On the Shores of Freedom and The Battle for the Jerusalem Hills.
"Return,
O virgin of Israel. Return to these, thy cities" (Jeremiah 31:20) (Plate
#18)
The prophet,
Jeremiah, lived during the destruction of Jerusalem and the exile of the
population by the Babylonians in 586 B.C.E. On the one hand, he rages against
his own people for the sin of relying on the neighboring state of Egypt, and
for the sin of idolatry. On the other hand, he preaches a profound vision of
return and comfort. This verse is one of the "return" prophecies and
it fits nicely as a text for the Zionist dream.
In this signed and
dated print, Dali portrays a Daliesque female body against a background of war
and a common wall (this is not the Wailing Wall; the stones are not finished in
the Herodian manner). On the horizon are the hills of Judea and Samaria,
together with a Jewish flag in the shape of a globe.
III.
The Yishuv (pre-State settlement)
"We
shall go up at once and possess it" (Numbers 13:30)
(Plate #4)
In the 13th
chapter of the Book of Numbers, Moses sends twelve men to spy out the Holy Land
so that he can lead an army to capture it, according to the command of God. The
twelve spies return from their mission after 40 days divided on whether the
people should, or should not, attempt to conquer the Land. Ten spies speak
against it. Then, "Caleb called for silence on Moses' behalf and said, '
We shall surely go up and possess it, for we can certainly do so.'" The
quotation is the very embodiment of the Zionist determination to establish a
Jewish state in the Jewish homeland.
Dali has chosen
Caleb's words as the title for this print. Note the powerful bodies (though the
Bible surely did not envision nude bodies as a representational possibility).
The body, like the one in "Aliyah," is based on two images in the Altar
of Zeus in the Temple
of Pergamum. These images also appear in "Tuna Fishing"
(M. Gérard, Dali [De Draeger, France: 1968] 174, and especially in an unfinished
version of that great painting. Note, too, the sense of
determination, and the Israeli flag about to be planted. This is another of
Dali's renderings of the Zionist vision.
"Let
them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the fowl of the air and
over the cattle and over every creeping thing" (Genesis 1:26) (Plate
#10)
This quotation from
the story of the creation of the world is the moment when God gives humans
dominion over all creation. Creation is there to serve humanity; not to be
abused, but to serve us. We have the right to use creation, even as we are its
stewards. This quotation is also God's command to go out and master creation,
to learn all there is to know, and to apply this knowledge to make the world a
better place. The combination of learning and applying, and of using and
preserving, are the essence of humanity's purpose in the universe. Linking this
verse from creation to the Zionist dream is an important motif.
In this print, Dali
takes up the theme of fishermen that is common in his work. One cannot really
tell that this is a part of the "Aliyah" suite (see also "Angels of Rebirth"). Note the strong fishermen,
the nets in the background, the octopus, and the bleeding fish, drawn from
"Tuna Fishing"
(see M. Grard, Dali [De Draeger, France: 1968] 174).
The
Pioneers of Israel: "With one of his hands, he wrought the work and, with
the other, held his weapon" (Nehemiah 4:11) (Plate #21)
In 586 B.C.E., the
Temple was destroyed, Jerusalem was laid waste, and the cream of the crop of
the nation was led into exile in Babylon. Their mourning is captured well in
Psalm 137, "How can we sing the song of the Lord on foreign soil."
Approximately 70 years later, Babylon had been defeated by the Persians and the
new regime decided to allow the Jewish leadership to return to Judea in order
to rebuild the Temple and reestablish a state there, provided that it would be
pro-Persian. The Book of Nehemiah (4:9-12) describes this return of the Jews to
Jerusalem as follows:
When
our enemies heard that we had been [formally] recognized, that God had brought
to naught their conspiring, that we had returned — all of us — to the wall and
every one of us to the work, then, from that day on, half of the young men did
the work [of rebuilding] and half of them held spears, shields, bows, and coats
of armor, while the officers were over all the house of Judah. The builders of
the wall and the bearers of the materials accepted their tasks; with one hand,
they did the work and, with the other, they held a weapon. The builders had their
weapons on them when they built, and he that sounded the alarm accompanied me
[Nehemiah].
No verse in the
Bible captures the sense of rebuilding better than this one. And so it was: the defenders of the Yishuv and, then, the newly
established State of Israel were farmers, road builders, truck drivers,
doctors, professors, mothers, teachers, and so on — and all had their arms with
them. All were alert for an attack from any direction.
In this signed and
dated print, Dali shows a hand that is holding a gun being attacked by a wild
Daliesque horse in a field of barbed wire. The settler dimension is missing but
the quotation from Nehemiah supplies it.
On
the Shores of Freedom: The Eliahu Golomb brings "illegal"
immigrants (Plate #5)
Eliyahu Golomb was
an early member of the Yishuv (the Jewish settlement in the Land before the
establishment of the State of Israel). He is best known for his very active
role in building an armed Jewish self-defense force called the
"Hagana." He trained units, bought arms abroad, organized the Jewish
Legion, and served under the British during World War II. He did not live to
see the establishment of the State of Israel but his work for, and with, the
Hagana formed the basis for what later became the Israel Defense Forces. His
home is now the Hagana Museum.
After the First
World War, Britain accepted responsibility for the newly-formed entity called
"Palestine" and agreed to facilitate the development of a Jewish
national home under a mandate from the League of Nations. At first, Britain was
sympathetic to Jewish immigration and land acquisition, but pressure from the
Arab world plus the concerns of World War II created an atmosphere in which
Britain hindered the development of the Jewish national home, including setting
severe limits on Jewish immigration to Palestine. The Yishuv, however, was not
deterred and its leadership decided that immigration was one of the most
important Zionist goals; one could not build a home for the Jews without Jewish
people. So, the Yishuv embarked on a plan of "illegal immigration" in
which Jews were smuggled into British-controlled Palestine. Eliyahu Golomb was
one of many who were entrusted with this task. Jews were spirited out of
Europe, put on boats, and landed clandestinely on the shores of Palestine. Some
made it; some were caught and imprisoned by the British.
One of the boats
that brought Jews "illegally" to Palestine was, the Fenice. It
was renamed the Eliahu Golomb for the head of this undertaking who had
died earlier. It, together with another ship, was to leave Italy with 1014
survivors of the shoah. However, the British objected to its setting forth and
the Italian government prevented it from leaving. The Jewish authorities
organized a well-publicized hunger strike that was accompanied by threats from
the survivor passengers to blow up the ship and kill themselves. Eventually,
the ship did set sail on May 8, 1946.
Dali's
representation shows the boat, clearly labeled the Eliahu Golomb. However,
he shows it as if it had been sunk. This did not happen to the Eliahu Golomb
but did happen to other boats in the illegal immigration enterprise such as the
Patria and
the Struma. Note
the people who have jumped into the water. On Dali's interest in ladders, see "For it is thy life."
For more on Eliyahu
Golomb, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eliyahu_Golomb.
For more on illegal
immigration, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aliyah_Bet.
For more on Britain
and the mandate, see Martin Gilbert, Churchill and the Jews: A Lifelong
Friendship.
For an analysis
that the British purposely sunk these ships, see
"Arise,
Barak, and lead thy captives into captivity; thou, son of Abinoam"
(Judges
5:12) (Plate #17)
In chapters 4 and 5
of the Book of Judges, the Israelites, who have just entered the Holy Land are
threatened by their enemies. They call on Barak, a well-known military figure,
to lead them. He refuses to engage battle without a blessing from the Lord
through the prophetess, Deborah. She agrees to go to war with the army and, at
the beginning of the song of victory cited here, she calls on Barak to rise up
and make war.
In this signed and
dated print, Dali has portrayed Deborah calling the people to arms. Note that
one cannot tell whether the arms are the spears of antiquity or the simple
rifles of the modern defense forces that won the War of Independence. Note the
splotch of red paint with a face in it. Dali would load a gun with paint and
literally shoot at the canvas, creating splotches of paint. He would, then,
sometimes paint faces onto the splotches.
The
Land at the Start of Jewish Settlement: "I will make the wilderness a pool
of water" (Isaiah 41:18) (Plate
#22)
When the Jews
started to resettle the Holy Land at the end of the 19th century and
well into the 20th century, the land was dry and desertified. During
World War I many of the trees in the Land were destroyed by the retreating
Turkish army, leaving the hills and lowlands without trees. Much of the land of
the Mediterranean coastal plain was fertile but without irrigation, or had
fallen into disuse for prolonged periods of time. Areas in the northern part of
the country, particularly in the Jezreel Valley and northward, were covered
with intermittent swamps. Lack of proper management, insufficient water for
agriculture, and times of insecurity had retarded agricultural development.
The Zionists,
however, were not deterred. When they arrived in the Holy Land, they often
pooled their resources and worked collectively to develop sustainable farming
and then products for export. They invested their hard work and their own
money, sometimes not succeeding, but never giving up on the new enterprise of
building a national home again. Land was purchased from local Arabs by private
Zionist investors and eventually also by the Jewish National Fund. The Jewish
Agency, the unofficial Jewish organization that governed Zionist activities
during the British Mandate, took responsibility to help Jews immigrate and to
prepare them to be new settlers. None of it would have been possible had
it not been for the "Halutzim," the Pioneers, most of whom were
unprepared for such hardships, who did the actual work.
The key to the rebuilding
of the coastal plain, during the Yishuv and later during the early years of the
State of Israel, was the National Water Carrier, a huge and long pipeline that
brought fresh water from the Sea of Galilee across the Galilee, through the
passes and down into the coastal plain. This National Water Carrier still
exists today and, at various points, it can even be seen on the surface.
In this signed and
dated print, Dali has portrayed the desertified landscape of the country with
its brown soil and sand and deserted isolated buildings. The tower may be the
tower of Jaffa. In the middle of the picture, he has drawn the National Water
Carrier.
For more on the
Jewish National Fund, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jewish_National_Fund.
For more on the
National Water Carrier, see
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/National_Water_Carrier_of_Israel.
The
Land Come to Life: "The mountains and the hills shall break forth before
you into singing and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands"
(Isaiah 55:12) (Plate
#23)
The full quotation
from Isaiah's prophecy of comfort reads as follows: "Indeed, you will go
forth in joy and you will be accompanied in peace; the mountains and the hills
shall break forth in your presence in singing and all the trees of the field
shall clap their hands."
In this signed and
dated print, Dali shows the same landscape as in "The
Land at the Start of Jewish Settlement" but, this time, it has come to
life by the presence of water. Note the river that snakes through the center of
the print. One can see the coastal city, perhaps Tel Aviv — a city built on
sand, at the top. One can see people doing various kinds of work, grapes, and,
of course, the colors that are the colors of life.
The
Land of Milk and Honey (Plate
#24)
This title is
actually a phrase that appears 20 times in the Bible, "the Land flowing
with milk and honey." It is used to describe the Holy Land promised by God
to the Jewish people. The phrase embodies the aspiration of the Zionist dream.
Dali portrays a
lush landscape at the bottom of the print which is very similar to what one can
see as one travels the highway from the airport to Jerusalem. The landscape is
surmounted by three figures: one stands straight and, judging from the imagery,
suggests fecundity; one, in a graceful dance position, pours out blessing; and
one, in medieval costume, is about to play a flute. Between the figures is a
deep blue image that stretches up to the heavens which, themselves, contain a
dark rain cloud. Indeed, aside from irrigation, the Land depends on rain for
its fertility.
IV.
The Shoah
Out
of the Depths (Plate #6)
The title of this
print is taken from Psalm 130, though Dali did not indicate this expressly, as
follows: "Out of the depths have I called unto you, O Lord." It is a
phrase also used by Martin Buber for a small book of Psalms translated into
German and published in nazi Germany in 1936. (It is also the title of one of
Bach's best-known cantatas.) This phrase, then, has served as a verbal logo for
the call of the suffering person to God.
I remember being in
a meeting at which the New York Board of Rabbis hosted the chief rabbi of
Soviet Russia. Closely monitored by the Russian KGB, he answered questions with
outright lies: "Are there enough prayer books in Soviet Russia?"
"Certainly." "Are there enough rabbinical students in Soviet
Russia?" "Certainly." And so on. However, when asked to conclude
the meeting with a prayer, he recited Psalm 130, "Out of the depths have I
called unto you, O Lord." All of us present understood that it was only
then that he spoke the truth about the state of Jews and Judaism in Russia.
Dali chose this
phrase for the first of his explicit renderings of the shoah. Note the barbed
wire, the gaunt figures, and the red (blood) in the center.
"Thou
hast laid me in the nethermost pit, in dark places, in the deeps" (Psalms
88:7) (Plate #13)
This quotation from
Psalms is fittingly used by Dali in this signed and dated print for his second
distinctly shoah lithograph. Note the mourning figure, the swastikas, the dead
body, the blood, the seated figure in mourning that echoes many such
Jeremiah-like images, and the Jewish star.
The
"Jewish" star, known in Hebrew as the "Star of David," was
not originally a Jewish symbol. It is, rather, a geometric pattern common to
many cultures. One can generate a six-pointed star by placing the point of the
compass that describes a circle on its circumference, marking off the six
points, and then connecting them alternately. There are some "Jewish"
stars in second century synagogues (e.g., the frieze in the synagogue in
Capernaum in which Jesus is said to have preached) and on Roman and Byzantine Jewish
seals and coffins. However, it was not until the 16th century in
Prague that the six-pointed star was adopted as a symbol of the Jewish
community as a whole. From there, it became known and was used as a badge of
Jewish identity. The nazis used it notoriously by making Jews wear yellow stars
to mark them off from Aryans. It was also chosen by the Zionists, in blue
against a white background, as the center of the flag of the Jewish state and
the symbol of the Jewish National Fund.
For more on the
Jewish star, see G. Scholem, The Messianic Idea, 257-81.
"Yea
though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no
evil" (Psalms 23:4) (Plate
#14)
This quotation from
the well-known Psalm 23 ("The Lord is my shepherd") is used by Dali for
his third shoah print. Dali has omitted the conclusion of the verse: "for
You are with me; Your rod and Your staff will comfort me."
In this image, the
people are portrayed as stick figures. They are fleeing a red monster that has
the vague form of one of Dali's famous "atmospheric skulls." One
might also think of the red-brown figure as outside a cave, in which the people
are trapped and fleeing.
"I
have set before thee life and death, the blessing and the curse; therefore,
choose life that thou mayest live, thou and thy seed"
(Deuteronomy
30:19) (Plate #15)
This signed and
dated print highlights a central theme in Zionist thinking: that the moment of
choice has come; that one can no longer wait for the messiah or any other
supernatural intervention in history; that one must act, now.
The thrust of the
original text, however, is clearly that the moment of decision for God has
come: one must choose the way of God as revealed in God's Torah. (On this
verse, see also "For it is thy life and the length of
thy days.") The original has no political meaning. What happened?
In the period of
the Romans, many of the Jews chose to rebel against the Roman Empire. For the
Romans, however, this is the period of the "Pax Romana," the period
of peace throughout the whole empire — except in "Palestina," as the
Romans called the Holy Land. To deal with this revolt, the Empire sent an army that
repressed the rebellion brutally, destroying Jerusalem and its Temple in 70
C.E. and the remnants of the resistors in Masada in 73 C.E. and again in 135
C.E. Already in 70 C.E., as the city of Jerusalem was surrounded, one group of
rabbis made peace with Rome. They negotiated their withdrawal from the city and
the right to establish a Torah academy elsewhere. There was one condition: the
rabbis had to refrain from teaching rebellion against Rome. This set the
precedent for the next almost 1900 years: Judaism would be a-political, and
exist everywhere.
The rise of
modernity meant assuming self-determination by the Jews, as it meant for all
peoples. Modern Jewish self-determination developed quickly into the Zionist
solution: a Jewish state on the Land of their Jewish ancestors. This became the
political goal of Zionism. There could be no compromising on this goal.
Slowly, the Zionist
movement grew. New people joined. Some came to settle in the Land and develop
it; others became active in the lands of their residence, providing important
political and financial support. Eventually, the State of Israel was
established with the idea that only in the Jewish state could one live a
complete and natural Jewish life, as a person and as a people. I remember
hearing Ben Gurion himself say that all Jews must leave their lands of
residence and come to live in Israel. From my high school class (1956),
approximately 7 out of 32 settled in Israel.
Dali understood the
imperative of the Zionist claim and uses this verse from Deuteronomy to make
that point. However, he uses symbols that are vaguely Christian: the praying
figure in the foreground in cruciform, the cruciform central figure (perhaps
modeled by his wife), and the crosses above the central figure. Note, too, the
spotlight effect; it has a revelational quality to it. Note, also, the typical
Dali motif of various insects and a miniaturized figure.
V.
Independence
A
Moment in History:
David
Ben Gurion reads the Declaration of Independence
May
5, 1948 (Plate #7)
After World War II,
Britain slowly retreated from its colonial possessions, including India and
Palestine. In doing so, it turned responsibility for Palestine's future over to
the newly created United Nations. After much debate, the United Nations voted
on November 29th, 1947, to partition the Palestine area into an Arab
and a Jewish state. The Zionists rejoiced at the legitimate recognition given
them while the Arab states and the Palestinians vehemently opposed the creation
of a Jewish state. A vigorous debate broke out among the leadership of the
Yishuv: Should the Jews declare the existence of their state or not?
On the one hand,
the surrounding Arab countries of Egypt (the largest), Jordan (the best armed),
Syria, Lebanon, and even Iraq had declared their intention to invade Palestine
upon the departure of the British. The Jews were very few in number and were
very poorly armed; they could hardly be expected to defeat such a massive
invasion. On the other hand, this was an historic opportunity; there had not
been a Jewish state in the Holy Land since 70 C.E. when the Romans conquered
Jerusalem and destroyed the Temple. Further, it was right after World War II
and there simply was no other refuge for all the survivors; other countries,
including the United States, had severe limitations on immigration. Finally,
the members of the Yishuv believed that the enthusiasm and morale of their
people would prevail against forces that were numerically superior.
The group in favor
of declaring independence won. David Ben Gurion, who was then the head of the
Jewish Agency (the pre-state entity that governed the Yishuv) and the head of
the Hagana (the Jewish self-defense army), read out the Declaration of
Independence on May 14th, 1948. Its contents contained a brief
summary of Jewish history, Jewish settlement of the Land of Israel, and the
rejuvenation of Jewish presence there through immigration and settlement in the
19th and 20th centuries. The Declaration also called for
peace between the new Jewish state and its neighbors as well as proclaiming
civil liberties for all of Israel's population, regardless of religious or
ethnic identity. Within minutes of the Declaration's proclamation, the United
States government gave de facto recognition to the new State of Israel.
However, the local Palestinian attacks on the Yishuv were turned into a major
war when the surrounding Arab countries invaded. It took the new State of
Israel almost a year to stop its War of Independence, signing armistice
agreements with its Arab neighbors. One of the first acts of the new Israeli
government was to rescind the immigration rules that had been applied by the
British ten years earlier. Immigration remained a key to Zionist growth and
Israel's well being.
Declaring the
independence of the new Jewish state was a very, very moving moment. However,
while people danced and sang all night after the vote for partition on November
29, 1947, there was only somber reflection after the reading of the Declaration
of Independence, for full scale war had begun.
In this print, Dali
has depicted Ben Gurion reading the Declaration of Independence. Note that he
has on a tie; this is reputed to be the only time Ben Gurion ever wore
one. Note, too, that Ben Gurion sports a Dali moustache. The man on Ben
Gurion's right is Moshe Haim Shapira, the first Minister of Health, of
Immigration, and of Internal Affairs. The man on his left is Rabbi Yehuda
Maimon, the head of the Religious Zionist party. (Note, incidentally, that the
date in the Dali text is wrong: It should be May 14th, not May 5th.
The Hebrew date is the 5th of Iyyar. Dali, or his editors, may have
been confused. Note, also, that the two men are in the wrong order; Shapira
should be on the left and Maimon on the right.)
For more on this
historic moment, see
Hatikvah
(Hope), the Israeli National Anthem (Plate
#16)
This signed and
dated print deals with another central Zionist symbol: the national anthem. It
is entitled Hatikva which means "The Hope." The words to Hatikva
were written in 1878 as a poem by a Polish Zionist, Naftali Herz Imber. Its
words were then adopted as a national hymn at the first Zionist Congress in
1897. The key phrase in the song, "the hope of two thousand years to be a
free nation in our Land, in the Land of Zion and Jerusalem," embodies the
Zionist dream. The print contains the first musical measure of the melody. The
full text, as sung today, is as follows:
As long as in the
heart, inwardly,
the Jewish soul
murmurs
and toward the
East, forward,
an eye looks to
Zion,
our hope will not
be lost --
the hope of two thousand years,
to be a free nation in our Land,
in the Land of Zion and Jerusalem.
Note the central
"dancing" figure and the other miniaturized forms.
Orah,
Horah: Light, Joy (Plate #11)
The text itself
contains the following note in parentheses: "The menorah, the
seven-branched candelabrum, is part of the official symbol of the State of
Israel. The horah is the traditional Israeli folk dance."
The Hebrew word orah
means "light" and it forms the background against which is displayed
the menorah, one of the symbols of the State of Israel. One such menorah
stands on the ground of the Israeli parliament; other uses are found in seals
and Israeli stamps. This menorah is seven-branched, as were the great menorahs
in the First and Second Temples. The menorah used on Hanuka is, by contrast,
eight-branched to commemorate the eight days of that holiday.
The horah,
as indicated, is the national Israeli folkdance. When the partition of
Palestine was voted in the United Nations on November 29, 1947, the settlers
danced and sang all the night. Annually, on Israeli Independence Day, as well
as on other national festivals, the horah is danced.
As a young Zionist,
I remember well learning the horah and then being able to dance it in
Israel when I first arrived there in 1958.
For more information
on the menorah, see
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Menorah.
For more
information on the horah, see
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horah#Jewish.2FIsraeli_Horah.
Angels
of Rebirth (Plate #8)
This print does not
have a deep historical background. One cannot really tell that this is a part
of the "Aliyah" suite, (see also "Let them have
dominion"). Note that there are at least two angels, one of whom seems
female but the other of whom seems African-American. If so, does this reflect
Dali's awareness of the civil rights movement in the United States during the
years he was working on this collection?
The
Battle of the Jerusalem Hills (Plate
#19)
When the Arab
armies attacked the newly declared Jewish state in May of 1948, one of the
hardest fought battles was the battle for the hills of Jerusalem. The Jews were
quickly driven out of the Old City and it remained occupied by the Jordanians
until its liberation in 1967. In 1948, the Jews in the western part of the city
were surrounded by the well-trained Jordanian Legion and were put under siege
without adequate supplies of water, food, and ammunition. David Ben Gurion
decided that, from a historical point of view, one simply could not surrender
Jerusalem entirely and so he put a great deal of effort and lives into ending
the siege of Jerusalem. Three fighters discovered a corridor from the plain
into the hills of Jerusalem, known as the "Burma Road." The troops
followed it, pressing through to Jerusalem. They reestablished contact with the
forces there and, eventually, were able to hold on to western Jerusalem which
later became the capital of the State of Israel.
In this signed and
dated print, Dali has captured both the action and the cost of this war for the
hills of Jerusalem. Note here, as elsewhere, the British helmets and thin,
single-shot rifles. Note, too, the blood that occupies a good part of the
print. It appears as if a Noah's Ark is in the middle of the scene. If so, it
would represent the besieged Jerusalem.
For more on the
battle of Castel, a strategic hilltop on the approaches to Jerusalem, which may
have served as the inspiration for this scene, see
http://www.parks.org.il/BuildaGate5/general2/data_card.php?Cat=~25~~354934586.
On Dali's interest in ladders, see "For it is thy life."
Victory:
A Song of Thanksgiving (Plate
#20)
In this signed and
dated print, Dali has captured the two sides of the victory that was the
armistice declared in 1949. On the one hand, one sees the large flags of the
newly founded State of Israel, the joyous throngs celebrating, and the birds of
peace above. On the other hand, one sees the figures in the darkness and the
red splotches of blood. As noted for other prints, the victory had its price.
The
Price -- Bereavement (Plate
#9)
The Israeli War for
Independence, 1948-1949, was successful in the sense that the invasion by
Israel's Arab neighbors was repulsed and that the State was, indeed,
consolidated. That War has actually never been concluded; peace agreements
exist only with Egypt and Jordan.
The War, however,
exacted a terrible price in loss of lives, particularly because the Jewish
population of the new State was very small. The later waves of immigration had
not yet happened. For some, the loss was terrible. Rivka Guber, a pioneer, came
to Israel to build the Land. Her son, Ephraim, was killed two months before the
War broke out and her other son, Zvi, was killed at the age of 16 in the battle
against the invading Egyptian army. As she put it, "I have taught my sons
to be good Jews ... to battle for that which is right until the last breath,
for man is duty-bound to fight for what he holds dear in life."
Rivka Guber became
known as "The Mother of the Sons," an allusion to Psalm 113:9,
"He [God] makes the barren woman to dwell in a home; the mother of the
sons rejoices; hallelujah." She was an honored guest at the signing of the
Camp David Peace Accords between Israel and Egypt, where Menachem Begin
mentioned her in his speech at that momentous event.
Dali chose to
portray the bereavement of the "Mother of the Sons." Bereavement is
the price of independence, of freedom, and of national rebirth.
For more on Rivka
Guber, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rivka_Guber.
VI.
The Final Image
Covenant
Eternal: Circumcision (Plate
#25)
Covenant is a
fundamental concept in Jewish self-understanding. For those who are religious
in any sense of the word, covenant represents the promise made by the Divine to
the Jewish people. It is a promise of relationship: God will always be our God,
and we will always be God's people.
Covenant includes
two related ideas: (1) that God has given us a Way, the Torah, and we are
committed by the relationship to be loyal to this Teaching; and (2) that God
has given us a Place, the Holy Land and, in particular, the city of Jerusalem
and the mount of the Temple, as a sign of God's Presence among us.
Nothing can cancel
or supersede this Covenant. If we are not faithful to it, we will be punished,
even by loss of sovereignty over the Land and the City; even by terrible loss
of life. However, no matter what, God remains God, we remain God's people, and
God's promises of Seed, Land, and being a Blessing to others (Genesis 12 and
elsewhere) remain, always. The Covenant is eternal.
There are signs of
the Covenant: God's goodness to us, God's reproof of us, and certain
commandments that are so designated in the Bible itself, particularly the
Shabbat and circumcision. These two mistvot are the acts that testify to
the Covenant between God and the Jewish people in our daily lives. They are the
concretizations, in time and in body, of the Covenant.
Circumcision of a
Jewish boy on the eighth day of his life is, therefore, a fundamental act. It
takes precedence even over Yom Kippur and Shabbat. We have documented cases of
women who gave birth to baby boys in the concentration camps and who, knowing
the boys would be killed right away, insisted on circumcising the children
before their execution.
Even secular Jews,
even atheist Jews, have their sons circumcised. They may omit the blessings and
the other rituals, but the ceremony is almost universal in the Jewish world.
Dali chose to
include this motif in his suite "Aliyah, The Rebirth of Israel"
perhaps because he understood that this was fundamental to the Zionist and the
Jewish dream of rebirth. The scene includes the baby, the doctor, the audience
which includes women, and perhaps a rabbi on the right. Significantly, the
figure in the foreground is not a religious figure; it is soldier with an
insignia on his cap and the wings of the Air Force on his breast — a true sign
of the old, indeed eternal, in the presence of the new and reborn.
[1] Moore began working officially
for Dalí in 1964, and by the time that he and Dali parted ways in the
mid-1970s, the artist was worth approximately $32 million — a sum largely
earned through the production of limited-edition lithographs.
[2] Salvador Dalí,
"Explanation of an illustration from the Chants de Maldoror',"
1934. Published in English as an Appendix in Salvador Dalí, The Tragic
Myth of Millet's Angelus , tr. Eleanor R. Morse (St. Petersburg, FL:
Salvador Dalí Musuem, 1986), p. 149.
[3] Fleur Cowles, The
Case of Salvador Dali (London: Heinemann, 1959), p. 147.
[4] On this and Dalí's
other films, see Elliott H. King, Dalí, Surrealism and Cinema (Herts:
Kamera Books, 2007).