Questions of Culture
By JAMES YOUNG
What constitutes Jewish culture? What is Jewish
literature? Jewish history? Jewish art? Jewish photography? Jewish
architecture? What makes Barnett Newman, or Philip Guston,
or Mark Rothko a Jewish artist? Do Newman’s
meditations on martyrdom constitute “Jewishness” in his work? Do Guston’s reflections
on identity and catastrophe make him a “Jewish artist?” Is Rothko’s
iconoclastic insistence on the abstract color field after the Holocaust a
gesture toward the second commandment prohibition of images, and if so, does
that give him a Jewish sensibility?
Is William Klein a
Jewish photographer? Or Weegee (né
Arthur Feelig), or Robert Capa (né
Andreas Friedmann), or Brassai (né
Gyula Halasz)? Aside from its cheekiness, what are we to make of William
Klein’s mischievous remark that “there are two kinds of photography—Jewish
photography and goyish photography. If you look at modern photography you find,
on the one hand, the Weegees, the Diane Arbuses, the Robert Franks—funky
photographers. And then you have people who go out in the woods. Ansel Adams,
Weston. It’s like black and white jazz.” Are William Klein’s own photographs
Jewish in their narrative, story-telling movement, figure to figure? Or are
these Jewish photographers because, in the words of Max Kozloff, they are
“restless, voracious; they give the impression of being always in transit yet
never arriving.” Did Jews invent “street photography, as Kozloff argues, or was
this really an aesthetic common to all immigrants, in any land, seeing the
street through new eyes?
And now for the benefit of anti-Semitic conspiracy theorists everywhere, I ask
whether there is such a thing as Jewish architecture. Think of Frank Gehry (né
Frank Owen Goldberg), Richard Meier, Peter Eisenman,
Daniel Libeskind, and Santiago Calatrava,
James Ingo Freed,
Moshe Safdie, A.M. Stern. What are we to make of Gehry’s
suggestion that the undulating steel forms for which he is so famous are
inspired by the live carp his grandmother kept in a bathtub before turning it
into gefilte fish? I’ve been asked often if Jewish architects were somehow
predisposed toward articulating the memory of catastrophe in their work, in
order to explain how Libeskind, Calatrava, and now Michael Arad (designer of
the memorial at Ground Zero) have become the architects of record downtown.
I’ve usually answered that I see no direct references to Jewish catastrophe in
their designs, but that the forms of post-war architecture itself have surely
been inflected by an entire generation’s knowledge of the Holocaust.
…
For the purposes of the Posen Library of Jewish
Culture and Civilization,
of which I am the editor-in-chief, the expressions of Jewish culture will
include, among hundreds of chronologically, geographically, generically,
linguistically, and thematically organized entries: primary historical, philosophical, religious, legal, literary,
exegetical, political, folkloristic, and aesthetic tracts, documents, and artifacts. All volumes will be richly illustrated with
images of illuminated manuscripts, architecture, religious objects, folk art,
design, drawings, paintings, sculpture, photography, film, and other arts, high
and low, including music and theater, from ancient to present times.
While we may not be looking only for that which was regarded as new and
innovative in its time (two very modern selection criteria), we can also do
this. All toward collecting what has
been historically regarded, even previously codified and anthologized as Jewish
culture, in its time and in our own. The
Editorial Board also recognized that even the over-arching principle of
inclusivity will necessarily be limited by a 1,000 page volume-length. With this in mind, Volume Editors are
encouraged to ensure that the “best,” the “ordinary (or normative),” and the
“unusual” all be fairly represented, with as wide a range of geographic areas,
genres, and types of Jews as possible (in the words of Jonathan Sarna). For our purposes, the entries of this
anthology may also include texts produced by Jews but not always with explicit
Jewish content. Such texts warrant inclusion if they have been received by the
Jewish world as Jewish texts, codified and responded to as Jewish texts. This
means that there may also be instances of culture produced by non-Jews for
Jewish purposes (such as illuminated Hebrew manuscripts, synagogue
architecture, and headstone reliefs).
The Volume Editors’ job here is to research all that has been regarded as
representative of Jewish culture over time.
Whether a particular editor believes Soutine or Pissarro made Jewish
art, or Kafka wrote
Jewish parables, or Heine wrote Jewish poetry, or Freud or the Marx brothers or
Al Jolson or any of the hundreds of others added to Jewish culture may be less
important here than what the Jewish cultural worlds of museums, libraries, and
other institutional and scholarly arbiters of culture have already decided over
time in their exhibitions, archives, and anthologies. Here the question of whether Jews who run from Judaism express a
particularly modern Jewish dilemma may emerge, leading perhaps to thematic
categories like “Non-Jewish Jews” and “Marginal Jews,” when no other category
will work.
Indeed, this issue of “what is a Jewish text” is clearly also one that arises
most prominently in the modern eras of emancipation, assimilation, and national
self-definition and may be less pressing in the ancient to medieval times. This said, of course, discussions around
Jesus’ “Sermon on the Mount” reveal fundamental problems in determining the
“Jewishness” of some ancient texts, as well.
Yehuda Bauer is insistent, for example, that [the Sermon on the Mount]
is so similar to a Jewish text that it is absolutely clear to [him] that this
was a Jew speaking to Jews” and would have to be included, even if the original
words were subsequently Christianized in the context of their redaction as part
of the New Testament and depleted of Jewish meaning. The question of what the original words and text might also have
been also adds to the discussion. Volume
Editors will be asked to address some of the most difficult selections in their
Introductions in order to clarify where possible how selections of seemingly
marginal texts were made.