When fine art meets the Jewish neshamah, exquisite expressions of beauty are born. But for the artists at the frontier of quality Jewish art, the challenges can be daunting. Four artists and a business consultant paint a startling picture of Jewish art today

She wouldn’t give her name. When pressed, she presented herself using the title she goes by as an artist — out in the world at large. “I don’t want to ever be known by my chareidi name,” she insists. Her eyes reveal a baffling sadness.

Years ago, Italian born Shazar Rachel embraced Hashem as her G-d, and Judaism as a treasured way of life. Today, badly burned by the gulf that yawns between her passion for art and her new-formed identity, she has found peace by making clear, unyielding boundaries between the two.

Shazar Rachel isn’t alone. Frum female artists are faced with formidable challenges. Eager to find out more, I joined a panel of four talented artists in the brightly lit conference room of the Jerusalem Temech business hub — a venue that frum businesswomen frequent daily to work, network, and brainstorm.

Jewish Art — an Oxymoron?

As lecturer and researcher of contemporary Jewish art, Nurit Sirkis Bank has worked primarily as curator for close to 20 years — first in the Israel Museum and for the last five years in Hechal Shlomo. “Art is a language,” she says with a quiet authority. “As with any other dialect, one needs to study the text: the alphabet and its particular nuances. Judaism is a champion of the written word. We study, pray, write. Secular art, in contrast, is entirely visual. As Jews we are taught not to focus on the externals… there is an inherent dichotomy at play.”

“Yaft Elokim l’yefes… [Hashem should grant beauty to Yefes],” I blurt out.

“Precisely,” she echoes, flashing an understanding smile, and at least one of the sources of Shazar Rachel’s frustration becomes crystal clear. From Yavan through to modern day Edom, secular society has chosen to focus on external beauty — while as frum Jews we focus on the inner essence. At the convergence of the two streams there are bound to be complex undercurrents.

Rallying to support Shazar Rachel is Noa Leah Cohen — an art lecturer, curator, and journalist of contemporary Jewish art who is well acquainted with the Italian woman’s background. “Shazar Rachel’s artwork is phenomenal. You should take a look!” I readily agree and am presented with an elegant catalogue. Even my novice’s eye can easily discern the skill and artistry in her work. Rachel’s portfolio is diverse and yet her style is intriguingly distinctive, including opposite elements of strength and delicacy, two sides of the feminine persona.

While in Italy — the land that boasted painting legends such as Da Vinci and Botticelli — her work is admired; in Israel, Shazar Rachel encountered prejudice and discrimination. The first Israeli museum Shazar Rachel approached sent her brusquely away, unabashedly averring that a chareidi artist’s creation would never grace their halls. “I was stunned,” she recalls, “but naïve. I didn’t realize my long skirt and head covering almost ensured my rejection.”

The demeaning experiences piled up.