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On Libraries, Bibliophiles & Images: Taj Auction 13

On Libraries, Bibliophiles & Images: Taj Art Auctions 13

by Eliezer Brodt and Dan Rabinowitz

Taj Art Auctions will hold its 13th auction this Sunday, April 7th (the catalog is available here). The auction contains many items worth highlighting, especially those related to historic Jewish libraries, as well as other unique books and ephemera.

Recently, arguably, the most significant Jewish library reopened its doors. The National Library of Israel, housed at Hebrew University for decades, moved into its own building, designed by the starchitects Herzog & de Meuron, who count the Tate Modern among other outstanding projects. Books are integral to the Jewish experience, and the library’s location, next to some of the most important institutions of the Jewish state, the Knesset, the Israel Museum, and the Supreme Court, echoes that sentiment. The library’s ground floor houses the Jewish Studies reading room, which contains over 200,000 volumes. The library itself holds over four million books (and counting). These are now accessed by a quartet of robots that fetch requested books. There is even a window to watch them in action. The Scholem room has been transformed from its small, cramped quarters into a spacious room that houses the collections of several kabbalah scholars. Scholem’s desk is still present. There is a permanent exhibit of some of the library’s treasures, but that is only accessible on an official tour.

Nonetheless, it is undoubtedly worth seeking out. An exhibition of manuscripts of one the greatest privately held collections of Judaica, the Braginsky Collection, opens this month. While the National Library’s new building and collection are exceptional, many precursor Jewish libraries existed throughout the Jewish diaspora.

The oldest functioning Jewish library in the world is the Ets Haim Library in Amsterdam, dating from 1616. (An exhibition of its books was held at the National Library of Israel, then known as the Jewish National and University Library, in 1980). Its antiquity is tied to the date the school opened with the same name. This school became well-known for its unique curriculum and success in imparting that curriculum. Unlike the Central and Eastern European schools that almost immediately started studying Mishna and Talmud, the Talmud Torah applied a more systematic approach to Jewish literature. R. Shabbetai Seftil, the son of R. Yeshaya ha-Levi Horowitz (Shelah or Shelah ha-Kodesh), traveled from Frankfurt to Pozen via ship. That journey took him through Amsterdam, where he saw that the students’ studies operated in sequence. First, they studied the entire corpus of Tanakh and then completed the Mishha, and when they matured, they only began studying Talmud, and this approach contributed to their unique success. Seeing the benefits, he broke down crying, “Why don’t we follow the same approach in our countries [of Central and Eastern Europe]? Suppose only we could institute this throughout the Jewish communities. What would the harm be in first completing the Torah and Mishna until the student reaches thirteen and then begins Talmud? With that background, it will take only a year to become proficient in the intricacies of Talmud study, unlike our current approach that requires years to reach that level of fluency.”

In an example of the intertwining nature of the library and the school, the bibliographer R. Shabbetai Bass (1641-1718), who wrote the first Hebrew bibliography, Sifte Yeshenim (today, most well-known for this commentary on Rashi, Sifte Hakhim). Bass was born and lived in what is today the Czech Republic (Czechia). Around 1680, he went to Amsterdam to print Sifte Yeshenim. During that time, he visited the library and school and described the students as “students of giants: young children dancing like locusts and like so many lambs. To my eyes, they were giants, so well-versed in their knowledge of Torah and grammar. They could write Hebrew verse and poetry in meter and converse in clear Hebrew.” He also describes the unique aspect of the library. “Within the midrash, they have a special school, and there they have many books, and all the time they are in the yeshivah, this room is also open, and whoever wishes to study, anything he desires is lent to him. But not outside the beit midrash, even if he provides a large sum of money.”

From Ets Haim Bibliotheek Website

Among the Ets Hayim Library treasures is an Amsterdam print, the first Haggadah with copperplate illustrations. While illustrations in printed Haggados began with the Prague Haggadah of 1526, these were woodcuts. Copperplates, however, produce much finer illustrations. In 1695, the convert, Abraham ben Yaakov, designed and executed these copperplates, and the Haggadah was printed by the famed Amsterdam publisher, Proops. (Copperplates were already used in printing decades before the Haggadah. Perhaps one of the most significant recent examples is a 1635 copper etching by Rembrandt that the Jewish art scholar Simon Schama donated to the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam last year.)  The illustrations are based on the Christian biblical illustrations of Mathis Marin. While most are innocuous, the temple image at the end of the Haggadah is topped with a cross. In addition to the fine illustrations, the Haggadah also contains a large foldout map of the Jews’s journeys from Egypt to Israel; it is among the first Jewish maps of the Holy Land.

The Ets Hayim Library holds a unique edition of this Haggadah, considered one of its most treasured books. First, it contains an extra title page. But, more importantly, it is hand colored. While the copperplates are a significant improvement, the coloring makes this an especially striking Haggadah. It is listed among 18 Highlights from the Es Haim: The Oldest Jewish Library in the World, published by the library in 2016. The book includes three full-page reproductions of various details of the Haggadah and smaller reproductions of other pages. There are only two other copies of this version. One is at the Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati, and the other is being auctioned at Taj Art Auctions (lot 89). The copy at the auction was a gift from the printer Solomon Proops.

Similar images from the Haggadah’s title page were reused in Menoras ha-Me’or, Amsterdam, 1722, (lot 84), and the Amsterdam Haggadah final illustration of the Beis ha-Mikdash, that if one looks closely, the Christian cross was left intact from the original Mathis Marin illustration, also appears in the beautiful and unique title page adorning Birkas Shmuel, Frankfurt, 1782 (lot 152).

Birkas Shmuel, Frankfurt, 1782 Note the Cross on the Top of the Temple

Amsterdam was home to another significant library, the Rosenthaliana. It was collected in Hanover but eventually landed in Amsterdam. The catalog related to this library attests to the rarity of another book in this auction. This library was amassed by Eliezer (Leeser) Rosenthal (1794-1868). Born in Warsaw, he eventually traveled to Hanover, where he served as a Rabbi. His wife came from a wealthy family that allowed Rosenthal to indulge in his passion, book collecting. At their death, his library comprised more than 5,200 volumes, including twelve incunabula and numerous rare and unique books. After his death, his son, George, commissioned the bibliographer Meyer (Marcus) Roest to complete a bibliography of the library. It was published in two volumes in 1875 and reproduced in 1966. Roest’s work incorporated Rosenthal’s catalog of his library, Yodeah Sefer. Despite the many rare books in the collections, there was at least one book he could not procure, at least a complete copy. In his entry, 1524, for the Ibbur Shanim, Venice, 1679, he says that “it is a terrible loss, that my copy is incomplete, it is missing the last pages, my copy ends at page 95 … and is missing the calendric charts for 150 years, beginning from 1675, my copy is missing from 95 of these charts, from 1731 onward… This is a scarce (yekar mitzius) book and is not listed in R. Hayim Michael’s [Or Meir] or the Shem ha-Gedolim, or Di Rossi’s bibliography.” The National Library of Israel received a complete copy from the Valmaddona Trust, which was digitized and available online. (One can bid on four of the Valmadonna books, Talmud Bavli, Seder Zeriam, Lublin, 1618, lot 70 , as well as lots 12, 54, and 68). A complete copy of the book appears in the auction at lot 2. (For more on calendar books, see Elisheva Carlebach, Palaces of Time: Jewish Calendar and Culture in Early Modern Europe, and pp. 51-55 regarding Ibbur Shanim. His work is also a source for the Tu be-Shevat seder, see our post, “Is there a Rotten Apple in the Tu be-Shevat Basket“). The book has its own intersting history that is briefly described in the timely post, “Kitniyot and Mechirat Chametz: Paradoxical Approaches to the Chametz Prohibition.”

Yet another seminal Jewish library was that of R. Dovid Oppenheim (1664-1736), considered “the greatest Jewish bibliophile that ever lived.” (See Alexander Marx, Studies in Jewish History and Booklore, 213). Oppenheim started his rabbinic career in Moravia, moved to Prague, and was eventually elevated to Bohemia’s Chief Rabbi. At age 24, his library consisted of 480 books, and by 1711, his library stood at over 2,100 books, missing only 140 books from those listed in Shabbetai Bass’s bibliography of all Hebrew books. After his death (with some additions from his son, Yosef), the library rose to 4,500 printed books and 780 manuscripts. Although Oppenheim lived in Prague, the library was in Hanover. This was due to the heavy book censorship, which included the potential for confiscation by the authorities. Oppenheim visited his library, but perhaps because his time was limited, his works do not indicate that he was acquainted with the book’s contents. Instead, he should be considered a consummate bibliophile, and his collection consisted of rarities and special beautiful and unique copies, with a considerable number on blue paper. For example, there were 51 books printed on vellum, 40 of which he commissioned himself, out of about 200 known books printed on that medium until 1905.

After his death and multiple attempts to sell the library, it eventually went to the Bodleian Library at Oxford University. A complete history of the library was most recently accounted for by Joshua Teplitsky in his Prince of the Press: How One Collector Built History’s Most Enduring and Remarkable Jewish Library. But before its final resting place, there were a handful of catalogs of the library or various aspects of it. The first complete printed catalog of the library was issued in 1782 and was intended to elicit interest from potential Jewish and non-Jewish buyers. Thus, it contains two title pages, one in Hebrew and the other in Latin. This rare bibliophilic item is lot 156.

Finally, the auction also includes books from the library of R. Nachum Dov Ber Friedman, the Sadigur Rebbe. His library was recently described in Amudei Olam by R. Zusya Dinklos, pp. 419-39. Aside from traditional works, the library also held Haskalah works, as the one in lot 71.

Illustrated Books

We discussed Ibur Shanim, and in addition to its rarity, it is also among the small number of Hebrew books that contain illustrations. Because the book’s purpose was to elucidate and explain Hebrew calendrical calculations, including the determination of the tekufos (which he vehemently criticizes some Rishonim and others for dismissing them as old wives tales), there are a handful of tutorial images.

Ibur Shanim
Gross Family Collection

Likewise, Sefer ha-Ivronot, Offenbach, 1722 (lot 73) includes celestial images, in this instance, a movable wheel of the heavenly apparatuses. While there was some speculation that the title page image depicting a heliocentric universe was deliberately to align with the book’s contents, that is unlikely as the image was reused in at least three other books printed in Offenbach that are unrelated to astronomy.

Moshe Hefetz, perhaps more well-known for the 19th-century modification of his portrait attached to the first edition of his Melechet Machshevet, which depicts him bare-headed, authored a book on the Bet ha-Mikdash, Haknukas ha-Bayis, 1696, (lot 20), within which several Temple elements are illustrated.

Two books contain eclectic images of the Jewish star. Igeret Ayelet Ahavim, Amsterdam, 1665 (lot 140) and the first edition, 170 Amsterdam, Raziel HaMalach, (lot 120) include unusual adaptations of the star. (For another kabbalistic rarity, lot 116, is the kabbalist, Rabbi Yosef Erges’ personal copy of the Rosh ha-Shana and Yom Kippur machzorim with his kabbalistic additions.)

Iggeres Ayyeles Ahahuvim
From the Gross Family Collection

Razeil ha-Malakh
From the Gross Family Collection

There are a handful of artistic title pages, with at least two Greek gods, Hercules and Venus (see lots 10 and 48), and some potentially objectionable ones that Marc Shapiro discussed in his book Changing the Immutable (lots 64 & 78).

One of the most unusual title pages is a special one that its owner inserted into the book. The title page, taken from a non-Jewish architectural image by the 18th-century engraver Franz Carl Heissig, was filled in by hand with the book’s publication information (lot 5).

Finally, while censorship in Jewish books is somewhat common, undoing censorship is less common. Lot 62 is a unique copy of the Shu’T Maharshal that includes the otherwise expunged name of an informer. Other copies only refer to the person obliquely; this copy, although crossed out, the name is still visible. For more on this see Elchanan Reiner, “Lineage (Yihus) and Libel:  Mahral, the Bezalel Family, and the Nadler Affair,” in Elchanan Reiner, ed., Maharal: Biography, Doctrine, Influence, 101-26 (Hebrew).

 




Pesach, Haggadah, Art & Sundry Matters: A Recap of Important Seforimblog Articles

Pesach, Haggadah, Art & Sundry Matters: A Recap of Important Seforimblog Articles

Among the more interesting aspects of the history of Haggados, is the inclusion of illustrations. This practice dates back to the Medieval period and, with the introduction of printing, was incorporated into that medium. Marc Michael Epstein’s excellent book regarding four seminal Haggadah manuscripts, The Medieval Haggadah: Art, Narrative & Religious Imagination, was reviewed here, and a number of those illustrations, were analyzed in “Everything is Illuminated: Mining the Art of IllustratedHaggadah Manuscripts for Meaning.” Epstein edited and wrote an introduction to the recently published facsimile edition of the Brother Haggadah, which resides in the British Library. This is the first reproduction in full color of this important manuscript. Another recent reproduction of a manuscript Haggadah is Joel ben Simon’s Washington Haggadah. This Haggadah is particularly relevant this year, as it contains an alternative text for  Eruv Tavshilin blessing. Whether or not this was deliberate was the subject of some controversy, see “Eruv Tavshilin: A Scribal Error or Deliberate Reformation?

The first illustrated printed Haggadah, Prague, 1526, introduced new illustrations and recycled and referenced some of the common ones in manuscripts (see here for a brief discussion and here for Eliezer Brodt’s longer treatment). That edition would serve as a model for many subsequent illustrated Haggados but also contains surprising elements, at least in some religious circles, regarding the depiction of women, and was subsequently censored to conform with the revisionist approach to Jewish art. See, “A Few Comments Regarding The First Woodcut Border Accompanying The Prague 1526 Haggadah,” and Elliot Horowitz’s response, “Borders, Breasts, and Bibliography.” The Schecter Haggadah: Art, History and Commentary, a contemporary treatment of the art and the Haggadah, (for Elli Fischer’s review, see here), that unintentionally reproduced a version of one of the censored images in the first edition. It was restored in subsequent editions. Women appear in other contexts in illustrated Haggados. The most infamous example is the “custom” that implies a connection between one’s spouse and marror (discussed here), but our article, “Haggadah and the Mingling of the Sexes” documents more positive and inclusive examples of women’s participation in the various Passover rituals in printed Haggados.  Similarly, the c. 1300 Birds Head Haggadah has an image of female figures in snoods preparing the matza and a woman at the center of Seder table.

As detailed in chapter 8 of Epstein’s Medieval Haggadah, the early 14th Century Golden Haggadah is perhaps the most female-centric Haggadah and may have been commissioned for a woman. That manuscript emphasizes the unique, positive, and critical role women played in the Exodus narrative. Although it also depicts the practice of overzealous cleaning with a woman sweeping the ceiling. The 1430 Darmstadt Haggadah has a full-page illumination of women teachers, but its connection to the text is opaque. Finally, we argue that one printed Haggadah uses a subtle element in explicating the midrashic understanding of the separation of couples as part of the Egyptian experience.

Sweeping the Ceiling, Golden Haggadah

 

One of the most creative contemporary Haggados was produced by the artist, David Moss. Moss was commissioned by David Levy to create a Haggadah, on vellum in the tradition of Medieval Jewish manuscripts. Moss worked for years on the project the result surely equals, if not surpasses, many of the well-known Medieval haggados, both artistically and its ability to bring deeper meaning to the text. The manuscript is adorned with gold and silver leaf and contains many paper-cuts (technically vellum-cuts).  One of the most striking examples of the silver decoration is the mirrors that accompany the passage that “in each and every  generation one is obligated to regard himself as though he personally came out of Egypt.” The mirrors appear on facing pages, interspersed with one with male and the other with female figures in historically accurate attire from Egypt to the modern period. Because the portraits are staggered when the page opens, each image is reflected on the opposite page, and when it is completely opened, the reader’s reflection literally appears in the Haggadah — a physical manifestation of the requirement to insert oneself into the story. The page is available as a separate print.

After completing the Haggadah, Moss was asked to reproduce it, and, with Levy’s permission, produced, what the former Librarian of Congress, Daniel Bornstein, described as one of the greatest examples of 20th-century printing. The reproduction, on vellum, nearly perfectly replicates the handmade one. This edition was limited to 500 copies, all of which were sold. From time to time, these copies appear at auction and are offered by private dealers, a recent copy sold for $35,000. President Regan presented one of these copies to the former President of Israel, Chaim Herzog, when he visited the White House in 1987. While that is out of reach for many, this version is housed at many libraries, and if one is in Israel, one can visit Moss at his workshop in the artist colony in Jerusalem, where he continues to produce exceptional works of Judaica and view the reproduction.  There is also a highly accurate reproduction, on paper that is available (deluxe edition) and retains the many papercuts and some of the other original elements, that is still available. This edition also contains a separate commentary volume, in Hebrew and English. (There is also one other available version that simply reproduces the pages, but lacks the papercuts.)

While the entire Moss Haggadah is worth study, a few examples. One paper-cut is comprised of eight panels, each depicting the process of brick making, the verso, using the same cuttings, depicts the matza baking process, literally transforming bricks into matza. The first panel of the matza baking is taken from Nuremberg II Haggadah, which we previously discussed here, and demonstrated that it preserves the Ashkenazi practice of only requiring supervision from the time of milling and not when the wheat was cut.

The illustration accompanying the section of Shefokh, reuses the illustrations of Eliyahu from the Prague 1526 and the Mantua 1528 Haggados to great effect. In the original and vellum reproduction, the cup of Eliyahu physically turns without any visible connection to the page — an extraordinary technical achievement. This section and the illustrations were discussed by Eliezer Brodt in “The Cup of the Visitor: What Lies Behind the Kos Shel Eliyahu, and, in this post, he identified an otherwise unknown work relating to the topic, for another article on the topic, see Tal Goiten’s “The Pouring of Elijah’s Cup (Hebrew).”  Eliezer revisited the topic in (here) his conversations with Rabbi Moshe Schwed, in the series, Al Ha-Daf. In last year’s conversation, he discussed a number of other elements of the history of the Haggadah, and three years ago the controversy surrounding machine produced matza. (All of the episodes are also streaming on Apple Podcasts, Spotify & 24Six.) Additionally, he authored “An Initial Bibliography of Important Haggadah Literature,” and two articles related to newly published Haggados, “Elazar Fleckeles’s Haggadah Maaseh BR’ Elazar ” and XXI. Rabbi Eliezer Brodt on Haggadah shel Pesach: Reflections on the Past and Present ,” regarding Rabbi Yedidya Tia Weil’s (the son of R. Rabbi Netanel Weil author of “Korban Netanel”) edition, and a review of David Henshke’s monumental work, Mah Nistanna. 

In one of the first haggadot printed in the United State published in 1886 Haggadah contains a depiction of the four sons.  Depicting the four sons is very common in the illustrated manuscripts and printed haggadot. In this instance, the wicked son’s disdain for the seder proceedings shows him leaning back on his chair and smoking a cigarette. According to many halakhic authorities, smoking is permitted on Yom Tov, nonetheless, the illustration demonstrates that at least in the late 19th-century smoking was not an acceptable practice in formal settings. (For a discussion of smoking on Yom Tov, see R. Shlomo Yosef Zevin, Mo’adim be-Halakha (Jerusalem:  Mechon Talmud Hayisraeli, 1983), 7-8).

The cup of Eliyahu is but one of many Passover food-related elements. The identification of Marror with the artichoke in Medieval Haggados, is debated by Dan Rabinowitz and Leor Jacobi , while Susan Weingarten provides an overview of the vegetable, in “The Not-So-Humble Artichoke in Ancient Jewish Sources.” Jacobi also discusses the fifth cup in his article, “Mysteries of the Magical Fifth Passover Cup II, The Great Disappearing Act and this printed article.  The history of the restriction of Kitniyot and the development of the practice of selling hametz is discussed in our article, “Kitniyot and Mechirat Chametz: Paradoxical Approaches to the Chametz Prohibition,” and was revisited on Rabbi Drew Kaplan’s Jewish Drinking podcast (and in an audio version on apple podcasts and spotify). Another guest was Marc Epstein, discussing his book on Medieval Haggados, and Dr. Jontahan Sarna where he gives an overview of the use of raisin wine for the kiddush and the four cups, based on his article, “Passover Raisin Wine,” as was the frequent contributor to the Seforimblog, Dr. Marc Shapiro. His interview, like many of his posts and his book, Changing the Immutable, discusses censorship and, in particular, the censored resposum of R. Moshe Isserles regarding taboo wine (also briefly touched upon in Changing the Immutable, 81-82, and for a more comprehensive discussion of the responsum, see Daniel Sperber, Nitevot Pesikah, 104-113).  For another wine related post, see Isaiah Cox’s article, “Wine Strength and Dilution.” The history of Jewish drinking and Kiddush Clubs was briefly discussed here.

Whether coffee, marijuana and other stimulants falls within the Kitniyot category appears here. Marc Shapiro’s article, “R. Shlomo Yosef Zevin, Kitniyot, R. Judah Mintz, and More,” regarding Artscroll’s manipulation of R. Zevin’s Moadim be-Halakha regarding kitniyot. Another coffee related article explores the history and commercial relationship between the Maxwell House Haggadah.  Finally, the last (pun intended) food discussion centers on the custom of stealing the afikoman.

The Amsterdam 1695 Haggadah was an important milestone in the history of printed illustrated Haggados, it was the first to employ copperplates rather than woodcuts. This new technique enabled much sharper and elaborate illustrations than in past Haggados. While some of the images can be traced to earlier Jewish Haggados, many were taken from the Christian illustrator, Mathis Marin. It also was the first to include a map. As we demonstrated that map, however, is sourced from a work that was a early and egregious example of forgery of Hebrew texts. For an Pesach related plagiarism, see “Pesach Journals, Had Gadyah, Plagiarism & Bibliographical Errors.” Kedem’s upcoming auction of the Gross Family collection includes, with an estimate of $80,00-$100,000, one of the rarest, beautiful, and expensive illustrations of Had Gadya by El Lissitzky published by Kultur Lige, Kiev, 1919. Eli Genauer reviews another number related edition, not in price, but convention, “The Gematriya Haggadah.”

There are two articles regarding the Haggadah text, David Farkes’ “A New Perspective on the Story of R. Eliezer in the Haggadah Shel Pesach,” and Mitchell First’s “Some Observations Regarding the Mah Nishtannah.” First’s other article, “The Date of Exodus: A Guide to the Orthodox Perplexed,” is also timely.
Finally, Shaul Seidler-Feller’s translation of Eli Wiesel’s article, “Passover with Apostates: A Concert in Spain and a Seder in the Middle of the Ocean,” tells the story of an unusual Pesach seder. Siedler-Feller most recently collaborated on the two most recent Sotheby’s Judaica catalogs of the Halpern collection.

Chag kasher ve-sameach!




Everything is Illuminated: Mining the Art of Illustrated Haggadah Manuscripts for Meaning

Everything is Illuminated: Mining the Art of Illustrated Haggadah Manuscripts for Meaning
            We have discussed haggadah illustrations in the past (see the links at the end of this post) and we wanted to expand and update upon that discussion for this year. In this post we focus on Hebrew illuminated haggadah manuscripts, and in the follow-up post will turn our attention to printed illustrated haggadot.
            While there is not as large of a body of Jewish art as that of art in general, historically Jews have appreciated the visual arts early in their evolution into a nation.  Aside from the biblical forms, we have evidence of art dating to the second century of the common era in the well-known frescos at the Dura-Europos synagogue.[1] But, such appreciation was not limited to second century Palestinian Jews, as evidenced from the discussion below, this appreciation continued, almost unabated, until the modern period.  It was not just the artist class or wealthy acculturated Jews that were exposed to and admired this medium.  For example, in the 1560 Mantua haggadah, one of the more important printed illustrated haggadot, the wise son appears to be modeled after Michelangelo’s Jeremiah in the Sistine Chapel (view it here: link). 
            

Lest one think that it is highly unlikely that a 16th century Italian Jew would have even entered the chapel, let alone been familiar with this painting, a contemporaneous account of Jewish art appreciation disabuses those assumptions.  Specifically, Giorgi Vasari, the 16th century artist and art historian, in his Lives of Excellent Painters (first published in 1560), records regarding Michelangelo’s statute of Moses – that is a full statute depicting the human form and was placed in the church of San Pietro in Rome – that “the Jews [go] in crowds, both men and women, every Saturday, like flocks of starlings, to visit and adore the statue.” That is, the Sabbath afternoon activity was to go to church to admire the statute of Moses, that is more famous for having horns than its Jewish visitors.[2]

Hebrew Manuscripts Background  
A brief background regarding Hebrew manuscripts before delving into the illuminated haggadah manuscripts. Details regarding manuscripts, the name of the copyist, the date, and the place where the manuscript was written, were supplied not at the beginning of the book – as is the convention with printed books and title pages –  instead in manuscripts this information is provided at the end. For this reason, the scribe’s note containing the information was called a colophon – from the Greek word kolofon, meaning “summit” or “final point.”[3]
Number of Hebrew mss.

A cautious guess of the number of extant Hebrew manuscripts in existence is between 60,000 -70,000 “but no more than 30-40 thousand of them predate the middle of the sixteenth century.”[4] Of the 2-3 hundred thousand Hebrew manuscripts presumed in existence in Europe at the beginning of the fourteenth century, probably no more than four to five thousand are extant today, possibly even less. “From the tenth century (before which information is very scarce) to 1490 (when the influence of printing books began to be felt)” there are an estimated one million manuscripts, meaning, “that 95 per cent of manuscripts have disappeared.”[5]  In addition, the early printed books – incunabula – had similar survival rates.

            The dearth of manuscripts has left a significant hole in our knowledge of major Jewish texts.  For example, there is only one complete manuscript of the Palestinian Talmud (1289) and two partial manuscripts. The Babylonian Talmud fared slightly better, with one complete manuscript (1342) and 63 partial manuscripts in libraries, with only 14 dating from the 12th & 13th centuries.[6] 
One of the partial TPs is known as the Vatican Codex 133 – and worth mentioning is the Vatican and its role regarding Hebrew manuscripts.  While there is no doubt that the Church had a significant hand in reducing the number of manuscripts – in reality the destruction of Hebrew manuscripts was the work of the Jesuits and not the Roman Catholic Church. Indeed, the Church confiscated and, thus in some instances preserved Hebrew manuscripts.  Consequently, we have a number of important Jewish texts that survive in the Vatican library.  Today, many of these manuscripts have been published.  The incomplete manuscript of the TP is but one example.  Additionally, regarding the use of (rather than just reprinting) the Vatican library, for at least late 19th century, Jews had access to the library.  For example, R. Raphael Nathan Rabinowitz, who authored a monumental work on Talmudic variants provides that “I prayed to God to permit me entrance to the Vatican library to record variant readings” his prayer was answered, and he received permission not only to use it during regular hours but “even on days that it was closed due to Christian holidays, when the library was closed to all, and even more so Jews.”[7] In total he spent close to 9 months in the library. In addition, Rabbi Rabinowitz’s presence and special status at the Vatican library was instrumental for the editing of the Vilna Talmud, where he secured permission for the Romm-employed copyists to work with manuscripts of the commentary of Rabbenu Hananel, even though they arrived in Rome during the summer season when the library was closed.
            Of the estimated one million Hebrew manuscripts from the 10th century until 1490, approximately 5% have survived.  As mentioned, religious persecution was one reason, but the main reasons are (1) deterioration from use, (2) accidents, and (3) reuse.  The first two are self-explanatory, the third requires a bit of explanation.  From the times that manuscripts were written on papyrus, unwanted manuscripts were scraped or washed and then reused.  (This papyrus recycling was not confined to reusing for books, papyrus was used from wrapping mummies, burned for its aroma, and used, according to Apices, to wrap meat for cooking). Similarly, leather and parchment were recycled, in the more egregious examples for shoe leather but in many cases for book bindings.  The latter reuse would be critical to the survival of numerous Hebrew manuscripts which have now been reclaimed from bindings.  It is estimated that there are 85,000 such binding fragments.  “The commonest use of written folios, however, was in bindings, whether for binding strips, end papers, or covers.”[8]   
Illuminated Hebrew Manuscripts

            The “earliest examples of Jewish book illumination are tenth-and eleventh-century Bible codices written in the Orient or Near East.  The illuminations are not figurative but consist of a number of decorative carpet pages adorned with abstract geometric or micrographic designs preceding or following the Biblical text.”[9] While these early illuminated manuscripts did not contain human figures, they did contain the first iterations of something unique to Jewish manuscripts, “one form of manuscript depiction unique to Jewish manuscripts is micrography with the earliest examples of this art may be found in the tenth-century Bibles written in the Orient.”[10]  A beautiful example of this art can be seen in the carpet pages for the Leningrad Codex. 



Similar non-representational geometric art was incorporated into Islamic art to avoid graphic representation.  Consequently, symmetrical forms were created which required advances in math theory to accommodate the ever more complex art.
Hebrew manuscripts did not adopt the Islamic convention – for the most part – and the earliest illustrations of human figures appear in Franco-Ashkenazic manuscripts – bibles – of the thirteenth century.
The earliest extant illustrated haggadah[11] is what is known as the Birds’ Head Haggadah dated to the early 1300s. The moniker “Birds’ Head” comes from the fact that the illustrator used birds heads/griffins in place of human heads. This manuscript is not the only Jewish manuscript to use zoophilic (the combination of man and beast) images. Zoophilic images can be found in a variety of contexts in Jewish manuscripts. For example, in the manuscript known as Tripartite Machzor, men are drawn normally while the women are drawn with animal heads.[12]  The name of this Machzor comes from the random fact that the manuscript was split up into three.  At times manuscripts are titled by location (Leipzig Mahzor), history (tripartite) or owner.  In one example, the “Murphy Haggadah” “ suffered a fate all too common to many Hebrew texts.  Before the Second World War the manuscript belonged to Baron Edmond de Rothschild.  During the war it was stolen and sold to an American, F.T. Murphy, who bequeathed it to Yale University, his alma matter.  For years it was known as the “Murphy Haggadah” until, in 1980, a Yale scholar, Prof. J. Marrow, identified as belonging to the Rothschilds.  The manuscript was returned to the Rothschild family and presented by the Baroness Dorothy to the Jewish National Library.[13]
            When it comes to the Birds’ Head manuscript, a variety of reasons have been offered for its imagery, running the gamut from halachik concerns to the rather incredible notion that the images are actually anti-Semitic with a bird’s beak standing in for the Jewish nose trope and the claim that the ears on the “birds” are reminiscent of pigs’ ears. Generally, those claiming halackhic, or more particular pietistic reasons, do so because they are unable “to conceive of such a bizarre and fanciful treatment of the human image as emerging from anywhere other than the twisted and febrile imagination of religious fanatics.”[14] But, in reality the use of bird’s head in lieu of human “reflects a liberal halakhic position rather than an extreme one.”[15]  The camp of Yehuda ha–Hassid would ban all human, animal and celestial depictions, a more liberal position from this perspective permits animal images.  And, while that position doesn’t explicitly permit a depiction half-animal half-human, the zoophilic images appear to show they were allowed, as the illuminator and owner of the Birds Head Haggadah agreed with that position.
            Aside from halakha, and the meaning or lack thereof behind “birds”, a close examination how the illuminator used this convention yields surprising nuance and commentary.      
While most of the images carry a bird’s head, there are a few exceptions. Most notably, non-Jews, both corporeal and spiritual do not. Instead, non-Jewish humans as well as angels have blank circles instead of faces. But, there is one scene that poses a problem. One illustration shows the Jews fleeing Egypt (all with birds’ heads), being pursued by Pharaoh and his army. Pharaoh and his army are depicted faceless.

  But, unlike the rest of the figures in Pharaoh’s army, two figures appear with birds’ heads. Some write this off to carelessness on the illustrator’s part. Epstein, who credits his (then) ten-year old son for a novel explanation, offers that these two figures are Datan and Aviram, two prominent members of the erev rav, those Jews who elected to remain behind. Indeed, they are brandishing whips indicative of their role as nogsim (Jewish taskmasters, or the precursor to Jewish Sonderkommando). While the illustrator included them with the Egyptians, he still allowed them to remain with their “Jewish” bird’s head.  This is a powerful idea regarding the idea of sin, and specifically, the Jewish view that even when a Jew sins, they still retain their Jewish identity – their “birds head.”   Sin, and including sinners as Jews, are motifs that are highlighted on Pesach with the mention of the wicked son and perhaps is also indicated with this illustration. The illustrator could have left Datan and Aviram out entirely or decided to mark them some other way rather than the Birds’ head. Thus, utilizing this explanation allows for the illustrator to enable a broader discussion about not only the exodus and the Egyptian army’s chase, but expands the discussion to sin, repentance, Jewish identity, inclusiveness and exclusiveness and other related themes.[16]

            Once we have identified the Jews within the haggadah, we need to discuss another nuance in their depiction.  The full dress of the adult male bird is one with a beard and a “Jewish hat,” pieus conutus – a peaked hat, or the Judenhut.  Children and young servants are bareheaded.  But, there are three other instances of bareheadness that are worthy of discussion.  (1) Joseph in Egypt, (2) the Jews in Egypt and (3) Datan and Aviram.  The similarity between all three is that each depicts a distance from god or Jewish identity.  Joseph, unrecognizable to his brothers, a stranger in a strange land, and while inwardly a Jew, externally that was not the case.

            The Jews in Egypt had sunk to the deepest depths on impurity, far from God. Finally, as we discussed previously, Datan and Aviram are also removed from god and the Jewish people.  Again, the illustrator is depicting Jews – they all have the griffin heads – but they are distinct in their interaction with god and the Jewish people.[17]  

Using this interpretation of the griffin images, yields yet another subtle point regarding inclusion, and also injects some humor into the haggadah.  The dayenu panel has splitting of the sea, the manna and the giving of the Torah.  The middle panel is less clear. Some posit that it is the Jews celebrating at the sea, but there is no indication of that because in most manuscripts, that includes Miriam, and the Egyptians drowning, not just five random images.

   
Instead, it appears that the person to the left is speaking (his hand is over his heart a medieval convention to indicate speech), and they are approaching the older figure on the left.  All are griffin headed and Judenhut attired – so Jews and regular ones. Between the splitting of the sea and the manna and quails the Jews complained to Moses.  Its possible that this is what is being depicted here, the complaining Jews, and the illustration serves as a testament to God’s patience and divine plan, the theme of dayenu, that even though we complained and did X, God still brought the manna, quail and Torah.[18] 

            If these are in fact the complainers, we can theorize about another detail of the image.  Above the figure at the left and the right, is faint cursive (enhanced here for visibility as much as possible) that reads: “Dass ist der Meirer (this is Meir) Dass ist der Eisik (this is Issac).”[19]  Thus Meir and Issac are being chided – but not kicked out – for complaining too much (rather than representing an unclear image of the Jews celebrating at the sea or just evidencing poor dancing). 


            Continuing through the dayenu we get to the giving of the Torah, and again, the nuance of the illustrator is apparent

.

            Two tablets were given at Sinai, but the actual Pentateuch is comprised of 5 books.  Thus, to capture that the 5 are a continuity of the two, as they are transmitted down, they transform into five tablets.  What about the ram/lamb at the bottom?  Some have suggested that it is the Golden Calf. But it is unlikely that such a negative incident would be included.  Instead, assuming that continuity or tradition is the theme, this lamb is representative of pesah dorot that is an unbroken tradition back to Sinai and unconnected with the Christian idea of Jesus as a stand in for the lamb.  Immediately prior to dayenu we have the Pesach mitzrayim with the figure’s cloak blowing back due to the haste.

       Thus, the dayenu is bracketed by the historic Pesach and the modern one – all part of the same tradition. [20]  

            It is worth mentioning that the Birds’ Head Haggadah is currently in the news. An item recently appeared about how the heirs of Ludwig Marum and his wife Johanna Benedikt, the owners of the haggadah prior to the Nazi era, are pressing the Israel Museum to recognize their family’s title, and pay them a large sum of money (but only a fraction of its estimated value). The Israel Museum acquired the haggadah for $600 from a German Jewish refugee in 1946.  (link).

            Turning to Spain, one of the most beautiful illuminated haggadot is the “Golden Haggadah.”  Just as the Ashkenazi Bird’s Head has depth to the illustrations, the Golden Haggadah can be mined for similar purpose.  Each folio is comprised of four panels.  And while they appear to simply depict the biblical narrative, they are so much more. 

            In an early panel we have Nimrod throwing Abraham into the fire and later Pharaoh throwing the males in the Nile, both Nimrod and Pharaoh are similarly depicted, on the throne, with a pointed finger indicating their equivalence in denying god. 

            The folio showing the Joseph story has the brothers pointing in the same manner as Pharaoh and Nimrod – the illustrator showing his disdain for the mistreatment and betrayal and equating it with the others.

            But, that is not all.  Counting the panels there are 9 between Nimrod and Joseph and 9 between Joseph and Pharaoh.  Taken together, these illustrations “renders an implicit critique of the attitude of that Jewish history is nothing but an endless stream of persecution of innocent Israel by the bloodthirsty gentiles.  Yes, it is acknowledged, these gentile kinds might behave villainously in their persecution of Jews.  But groundless hatred between brother and brother is on par with such terrible deeds, and sometimes sinat hinam can precipitated treachery as destructive as persecution by inveterate enemies.”[21]

            One other striking feature of the Golden Haggadah is the inclusion of women. There are no fewer than 46 prominent depictions of women in the haggadah.  Indeed, one reading of the exodus scene has a woman with a baby at the forefront leading the Jews out of Egypt behind Moses.

            This may be a reference to the midrash that “in the merit of the righteous women the Jews were redeemed.”[22]  The difference in the exodus scene is particularly striking if one compares it to the Ashkenaz Haggadah – Moses clearly at the front, and the most prominent woman in the back.


Of course, it is completely appropriate for the inclusion of women in the haggadah as women and men are equally obligated to participate in the seder. Another example of the prominence that woman play in the Golden Haggadah iconography is the scene of Miriam singing includes the largest images in the haggadah, the women occupying the full panel.  We don’t know why the illustrator chose to highlight women – was it for a patron or at a specific request.[23] 
The Golden Haggadah is not the only manuscript that includes women in a prominent role in the illustrations.  The Darmstadt Haggadah includes two well-known illuminations that place woman at the center.  The illuminations adoring other Darmstadt serve a different purpose than the Golden or Birds’ Head, they are purely aesthetic.[24]  Thus, the inclusion of women may not be linked to anything in particular.  At the same time, it is important to note that in terms of reception, that is, how the reader viewed it, the focus on women was not cause for consternation. One other note regarding the haggadah, the last panel is a depiction fountain of youth.  Note that men and woman are bathing – nude – together, which seems odd to a modern viewer (and, again, apparently did not to the then contemporary reader).  And, while admittedly not exactly the same, the 14th century R. Samuel ben Baruch of Bamberg (a teacher of R. Meir of Rothenberg) permitted a non-Jewish woman to bath a man so long as it was in public to reduce the likelihood of anything untoward occurring.[25] 

Before we leave the Darmstadt Haggadah, we need to examine the panel facing the Fountain of Youth. This panel depicts a deer hunt.

 As mentioned above, this image is not connected to the text and instead is solely for aesthetic purposes.  The hunting motif is common in many medieval manuscripts, and in some a unicorn is substituted for a deer.  While the unicorn has Christological meaning, on some occasions it also appears in Hebrew manuscripts.[26]

While the use of the hunting scene in the Darmstadt Haggadah was unconnected to the haggadah, in others it was deployed for substantive purpose.[27] [As an aside, it is possible that Jews participated, possibly Rabbenu Tam, in hunting, or at least its falconry form.[28]] As is well-known, the inclusion of the hare hunt is to conjure the Talmudic mnemonic regarding the appropriate sequence over the wine, candle, and the other required blessings, or YaKeNHaZ.  “To Ashkenazic Jews, YaKeNHaZ sounded like the German Jagen-has, ‘hare hunt,’ which thereby came to be illustrated as such in the Haggadah.”[29]

 Generally, Jews seem to have issues with botany.  We struggle to identify which of the handful of fruits and vegetables mention in the Bible and Talmud. But on Passover, the marror an undefined term, proves particularly illusory. Today, there is no consistency regarding what is used for marror with it running the gamut from iceberg lettuce to horseradish root. While we may not be able to identify it with specificity, we know what its supposed to taste like – bitter.  Manuscripts may provide some direction here.  There are two depictions in illuminated haggadot.  One of a leafy green, found in numerous examples, from a fragment from the Cairo Geniza to the Birds’ Head, and that of an artichoke.[30]  If it is a leafy green, it must be a bitter one – and that changes based upon time, place and palate.  For example, 30 years ago romaine lettuce was only the bitter lettuce widely available. But, among lettuces, it is far from bitter, and today, there are a variety of truly bitter lettuces available, arugula, mustard greens, dandelion, mesclun, etc.  Another leafy and very bitter option that is found in illuminated haggadot is the artichoke.  The artichoke is extremely bitter without proper preparation.  Indeed, from just touching the leaves and putting them in your mouth you can taste the bitterness.  The Sarajevo Haggadah and brother to the Rylands both have artichokes.

            The association of the artichoke with Passover is more obvious when one accounts for Italian culinary history.  Specifically, artichokes are associated with Jews and Passover. Carcoifi alla giudia – literally Jewish style artichokes “is among the best known dishes of Roman Jewish cuisine.” Artichokes are a spring thistle and traditionally served at Passover in Italy.  Whether or not from a culinary history this dish sprung from the use of raw artichoke for marror is not known, but we can say with certainty that artichokes have a considerable history when it comes to Passover. 

Horseradish only became popular, in all likelihood, because an early Pesach, would be too soon for any greens and thus they were left with horseradish – which is not bitter at all, instead it is spicy or more particularly hot.  In Galicia in the 19th century the use of horseradish was so ingrained that  permission was even granted and affirmed for people to use less than a kezayit  and still recite the blessing. In light of this, the custom yields the possibility that all sort of other spicy items be used for marror including very hot jalapeño peppers, for example.[31] Since we are discussing herbs, it is also worth noting that recently rulings regarding the use of marijuana and Pesach have been issued both in Israel and the United States (here), for our discussion on marijuana and Pesach please see here.

            One manuscript captures the uncertain identification of marror.  In the Tubingen Haggadah, the place where the illustration for marror is left blank, presumably to permit the owner to fill in what they are accustomed to use.

            Marror is not the only vegetable that is eaten during the seder, another difficult to identify is the karpas.  Today there are a variety of items used, and in reality, any dip-able vegetable will suffice, historically, it seems that lettuce or celery was used. The Birds Head provides that “lattich (lettuce) and eppich (celery) should be used. These are traditional salad foods, which, in the normal course of things, would be dipped or tossed with a dressing.  A dressing can be a simple as vinegar, and indeed, in many medieval haggadot, hometz or vinegar is used to dip.  We can trace the change from the more obviously salad oriented vinegar to saltwater where in the Darmstadt Haggadah, a later hand wrote on top of hometz – mei melekh.  While it appears nearly universal that hometz was used, its disfavor may be connected to a rule unrelated to Passover.  Since the Middle Ages, there is a dispute whether or not vinegar falls under the ambit of stam yenam.  Thus, the change to saltwater may be more of a reflection about views on what constitutes stam yenam and less to do with tears.

            One final food item is the haroset preparation.  Apples are familiar and linked to the midrash regarding birthing under an apple tree, in the Rothschild Machzor and the 2nd Nuremburg haggadah, cinnamon is called for because “it resembles straw.”  It also concludes that “some incorporate clay into the haroset to remind them of the mortar. For those wanting to replicate this addition, edible clay, kaolin, is now easily procured, and there is even a preparation that creates stone-like potatoes, perfect for the seder.
            To be continued… but until then see these posts Halakha & Haggadah, and regarding some illustrations in the iconic Prague 1526 Haggadah, here and also Elliot Horowitz’s discussion.

[1] E.L. Sukenik, The Dura-Europa Synagogue and its Art, Bialik Press, Jerusalem:1947. See also, Gabrielle Sed-Rajna, Jewish Art, transl. Sara Friedman & Mira Reich, Harry N. Abrams, Inc., New York: 1997, 9-13; 20-29;114-39.
[2] Two Prague Haggadahs, Valmadonna Trust Library, Italy:1978, 16 n.16 (the citation should read p. 435, not p. 345)
[3] Binyamin Richler, Hebrew Manuscripts: A Treasured Legacy, Cleveland/Jerusalem: Ofeq Institute, 1990, 20.
[4] Id. at 58.
[5] Colette Sirat, Hebrew Manuscripts of the Middle Ages, ed. & transl. Nicholas de Lange, New York: Cambridge University Press, 2002, 234.
[6] Id. 242-43.
[7] R. N. Rabinowitz, Dikdukei Soferim, Munich: E. Hovner, 1881, vol. 11, Tractate Baba Bathera, 7. 
[8] Sirat, Hebrew Manuscripts, 235-38.
[9] Richler, Hebrew Manuscripts, 45.
[10] Id. 48.
[11] Interestingly, illuminated haggadot did not end with the introduction of printing, there are a number from the 18th century and beyond.
[12] See B. Narkiss, Hebrew Illuminated Manuscripts, Jerusalem: Keter Publishing House, 1969, 106.
[13] Richler, Hebrew Manuscripts, 47.
[14] Marc Michael Epstein, The Medieval Haggadah: Art, Narrative, and Religious Imagination, New Haven & London: Yale University Press, 2011, 50-51. See the other discussions of this book, here.
[15] Id. 51.
[16] Id. 51-53, 71-72.  Much of the discussion regarding this haggadah and the Golden Haggadah is reliant upon Epstein’s thorough analysis of these manuscripts.
[17] Id. 65-68, 71-72.
[18] Id. 87-90.
[19] M. Spitzer & B. Narkiss, “General Description of the Manuscript,” in The Bird’s Head Haggada of the Bezalel National Art Museum in Jerusalem, ed. by M. Spitzer, Tarshish Books: Jerusalem, 1967, 23.
[20] Epstein, The Medieval Haggadah, 90-91.
[21] Id. 162.
[22] Id. 178.
[23] Id. 185-86.
[24] Narkiss, Hebrew Illuminated Manuscripts, 126.
[25] Elliot Horowitz, “Between Cleanliness and Godliness,” in Tov Elem: Memory, Community & Gender in Medieval & Early Modern Jewish Societies, ed. E. Baumgarten, et al., Bialik Institute, Jerusalem:2011, *38-*39.
[26] Piet van Boxel, “The Virgin & the Unicorn: A Christian Symbol in a Hebrew Prayer Manuscript,” in Crossing Borders, Hebrew Manuscripts as a Meeting-place of Cultures, ed. Piet van Boxel & Sabine Arndt, Bodleian Library, University of Oxford:2009, 57-68.
[27] The hare hunt image appears in Seder Zimerot u-Birkat ha-Mazon, Prague 1514, in the Shevuot portion.  Of course, the mnemonic applies to any holiday that potentially falls on a Saturday night.  See B. Roth, “Printed Illustrated Hebrew Haggadot,” Areshet, vol. 3 (1961), 8.  
[28] See Leor Jacobi, “Jewish Hawking in Medieval France: Falconry, Rabbenu Tam, and the Tosefists,” in Oqimta 1 (2013) 421-504, available here.
[29] Y. Yerushalmi, Haggadah & History, The Jewish Publication Society, United States:1997, plate 15.
[30] The various manuscript depictions of marror are collected in Mendel Metzger, La Haggada Enluminee, Brill, Leiden:1973, figs. 242-65.
[31]  Levi Cooper, “Bitter Herb in Hasidic Galicia,” Jewish Studies, an Internet Journal, vol. 12, 2013 (available here). 



Aaron the Jewish Bishop

Aaron the Jewish Bishop

The exodus from Egypt was led by Moses and Aaron. Moses, however, does not appear in the Passover haggadah (with one exception that is likely a later interpolation).[1] Aaron does make two appearances in the hallel section.  That said, in numerous illuminated haggadahs, from the medieval period to present, both appear in illustrated form. Additionally, in printed haggadot, most notably the 1609 Venice haggadah, one of the seminal illustrated haggadot, Moses and Aaron appear on the decorative border.

Generally, conclusively determining Jewish material culture, especially from the biblical period, is nearly impossible.  Regarding Moses, other than his staff, the bible provides no additional information.[2]  Aaron is a different story.

The Torah expends a significant amount of verses discussing the details of the Kohen Gadol’s (the high priest) garments but while the descriptions are detailed, we still struggle to determine what these special clothes looked like.  Rashi, for example, has to resort to anachronistic parallels for the “me’il” comparing it to a medieval French equestrian pant.  Similarly, by the Talmudic time, the details of the headband were subject to dispute. We should briefly pause here to correct a common misconception – that the Vatican or the Catholic Church still retains items related to the Jewish temple.  Unfortunately, this misconception is so prevalent, that a number of Israeli officials have requested that the Vatican repatriate the temple vessels.  Briefly, while the Talmud mentions that sometime between the 2nd and 5th centuries, temple vessels may have resided in Rome, there is no indication whatsoever of them since the 5th century. In addition, due to the numerous sackings that Rome underwent, or the reality that the Catholic Church is an entirely different sovereign than the Roman ruler Vespasian who sacked Jerusalem, it must be regarded as highly unlikely at best that any former temple vessels remain (assuming they were ever there) within the Vatican. For additional discussion regarding this issue, see here.
The ambiguity about the clothing has not stopped many from attempting to depict what they believe is the correct version.  Thus, depictions of Aaron the High Priest appear in Hebrew books. Hebrew manuscripts did not shy away from including illuminations and illustrations to create a more aesthetically pleasing product.  All sorts of shapes and images are employed to this end, on page borders, end pages, or just sprinkled throughout a manuscripts and – geometric patterns (Hebrew manuscripts are the first to use micrography), animals, people or combinations thereof of half-human-half-beast.  Noticeably, however, biblical figures are not included in this category. While biblical scenes appear in Hebrew manuscripts it is only to actually illustrate the content, and not independently for aesthetic purposes.
With printing, however, this slowly changed. Printing began in 1455 with Gutenberg and Hebrew books followed soon after.  These early books, however, did not follow all the conventions that we associate with books today.  Title pages did not begin until the 16th century and it wasn’t until the early 17th century that title pages were de rigueur.  Apart from information relevant to the books contents, title pages also began to included aesthetic details.  Sometimes these are architectural, pillars etc. other times flowers or some other flower or fauna.
Generally, printers did not explain why certain images were included on title pages, the assumption is that it was simply for aesthetic purposes.  At least in one case, this was made explicit.  The Shu’’t Ma-harit”z, Venice, 1684, by Yom Tov Tzalahon, includes an illustration of the temple on the title page.  The publisher, Tzalahon’s grandson, provides that this was included as “it makes it more beautiful” and he was so enamored with the illustration – even though it is very rudimentary he included it three times in the book (this likely speaks more about the publisher’s exposure – or lack thereof – to art in general).[3]
There are, however, at least a few examples of a title page illustration serving a purpose beyond the aesthetic. Some illustrations are including because of allusions to the author’s name, but at least in one instance a Hebrew title page illustration was used to illustrate the title.
The most common form appearing “on the frontispiece of countless printed books,” were biblical figures Moses, Aaron, David, Solomon, nearly always coupled, and “became the accepted heraldic figures.”[4]  The first biblical figures to appear in Hebrew books were was a woodcut by Hans Holbein of David and Solomon, flanking one, among other biblical scenes, in the Augsburg 1540 Arba’ah Turim. This illustration, however, did not appear on the title page, which is plain, instead it appears on folio 7.[5]  See Heller, 242-43.
The first frontispiece to include a biblical figure is the Tur Orach Hayyim, Prague, 1540, that includes, at the top of the page, a depiction of Moses holding the tablets.[6] The first frontispiece to include the coupling of biblical figures – the most ubiquitous form of biblical figures – is Jacob Moelin’s She’elot u-Teshuvot Mahril printed in Hanau in 1610. That frontispiece depicts Moses on the left in one hand the tablets and the other hand he grasps his staff.  Aaron is wearing the garments of the high priest:  the tunic, bells, breastplate and and is carrying the incense.
 
The usage of Moses and Aaron on Hebrew frontispieces thus began with Hanau, 1610.  By way of comparison, the first appearance of Moses and Aaron on the frontispiece of a book in English was the King James Bible, published a year after Hanau in 1611. The Hanau printer reused the Moses/Aaron frontispiece on two more books:  Nishmat Adam by Aaron Samuel ben Moshe Shalom of Kremenets, 1611 and Joseph ben Abraham Gikatilla’s, Ginat Egoz, Hanau 1615.[7]  The illustration best fits the Nishmat Adam, and may have originally been the book for which this illustration was intended and not Molin’s.  Unlike Jacob Molin’s work that has no direct connection with Aaron or Moses, the author of Ginat Egoz’s name includes both Moses and Aaron, and while Samuel is not captured in the illustration, the year of publication is derived from “Samuel.”
Moses and Aaron became the most common biblical figures on frontispieces, but not the exclusive ones.  In some instance, a mélange of biblical figures is presented.  The Amsterdam printer, Solomon Proops, included the image of Moses, Aaron, David, and Solomon, each wearing a crown, and a Moses carrying not the tablets but instead the Torah scroll.

A deviation from the coupling of Moses and Aaron appears in Beit Aharon, Frankfurt am Oder, 1690, which displays Aaron and Samuel.  In that instance, however, the deviation is explained because the figures are allusions to the author’s name, Aaron ben Samuel.  The use of coupled figures was not exclusive to Biblical figures; in many Hebrew books a variety of mythical and pagan figures and scenes are commonplace on title pages.  A partial list of pagan deities include:  Venus, Hercules, Mars and Minerva that appear on ennobled works such as Rambam’s Mishne Torah, Venice 1574, and Abarabenel’s commentary on Devarim, Sabbioneta 1551, and were reused many times.[8]  The use of pagan figures in Jewish items is not limited to Hebrew books and these images appear on the Second Temple menorah, and the Dionysus, Poseidon are inscribed on Palestinian mezuzotSefer Raziel mentions Zeus and Aphrodite, Dionysus and Poseidon reappears in a common prayer said during the priestly blessings, and Dionysus appears individually in the additionally yehi ratzon that some recite during Aveinu Malkanu (helpfully Artscroll and other siddurim direct that for the prayers that include these names, they should “only be scanned with the eyes and concentrated upon, but should not be spoken,” as they are “divine names”).[9]
Returning to the use of Moses and Aaron on frontispieces of Hebrew books, as mentioned above, the basic form of the illustrations remained fairly static with Moses appearing with his staff and/or the tablets or the Torah and Aaron in his priestly clothing.  And, these are prevalent throughout the 17th century, across the Europe and the Middle East.  In Europe the coupling appears in Altona, Amsterdam, Venice, Furth and Izmir, on diverse works – Talmudic commentaries, Mendelssohn’s commentary to the bible, and a commentary on the zemirot (which includes a heliocentric depiction of the constellations).  

A slightly different version appears in the Ma’ashe Rokeakh that has Aaron holding a slaughter knife.

There is, however, one notable exception to this depiction both in terms of the items displayed in addition to the “coupling.”  Aaron ben Hayyim Perachia’s Perekh Matteh Aaron, published in Amsterdam, 1703, includes a coupling but rather than Moses and Aaron, in this instance both images are that of Aaron.  Additionally, the Aaron on the left is the standard depiction of items, but the one on right is distinct in that it has Aaron holding a budding almond branch – perach mateh Aaron.  Of course, these deviations are understandable as the “second” Aaron and his unique “staff” is not merely aesthetic but is illustrative of the title of the book, the first time an title page illustration illustrates the title.[10]

 
A final note regarding the frontispiece depictions of two items Aaron’s clothing.  First, in many instances, including the Hanau prints, Aaron’s hat is not the traditional wrapping or turban associated with the mitznefet, but a bishop’s mitre.  At times, the mitre is horned, for example, Zohar, Amsterdam, 1706.  The horned mitre, however, is based upon “the mistaken belief that the horned mitre descended from the Jewish high priest” when in reality the bishop’s mitre is related to “Moses’ horns and their symbolic meaning within the context of the medieval Church.”[11]
The frontispiece is not the only time that the kohen’s headgear is interpreted contrary to Jewish tradition.  In a recent illustrated edition of Mishna Tamid, the editors depict the Kohen not only wearing the turban but also a yarmulke.  The Torah enumerates the priestly garments and any addition to those items is subject to the death penalty.  Thus, a Kohen wearing a yarmulke – as illustrated and that is not included in the Torah’s description of the Kohen’s outfit – commits a capital crime.[12] Here is another example of Aaron, looking very much like a bishop. This illustration is from a 15th century manuscript called המשכן וכליו by Simon ben Joel.

Unlike Aaron’s head-covering that appears from time to time as a bishop’s mitre, the second odd item that Aaron carries appears almost universally. Specifically, Aaron holds the incense in his hand, but unlike the Rabbinic interpretation that the incense was delivered in a shovel, Aaron is always depicted with the incense in a ball or  censer.  There is no Jewish source that records that form of the incense ritual and is an exclusive non-Jewish understanding of the Torah.
Ironically, the only person to take issue with the depiction of Moses and Aaron (and other biblical figures) argues against their use does not raise these issues nevertheless counsels against these biblical depictions.  His rationale, however, is counter-factual.  Specifically, Samuel Aboab, decries the depiction of biblical figures because the depictions are anachronistic and but for non-Jewish influences would never have been included in Jewish items.
While there is no doubt that some elements of the depictions are non-traditional, since at least the second century, biblical figures are found in a variety of Jewish contexts.  For example, the second century synagogue of Dura Europos and a few years later at the Bet Alpha synagogue contain biblical images. Dura Europos contains numerous illustrations of biblical figures and scenes, including Moses and Aaron.  And, while Abaob is correct that both Moses and Aaron are depicted anachronistically – in typical clothing of that time period, a toga-like garment – this is simply explained by the fact the purpose of the illustrations was to remind the viewers of the people and stories.  Therefore, had Aaron “been depicted with the biblical clothing that were no longer in use, the viewer might not know what they are looking at.”[13]  Thus, the anachronisms are not to make these seminal biblical figures in our image, but to simply ensure that the art clearly transmit its message.

[1] David Henshke, “The Lord Brought Us Forth from Egypt: On the Absence of Moses in the Passover Haggadah,” AJS Review, Vol. 31, No. 1 (Apr., 2007), pp. 61-73.
[2] The lack of information has not stopped the theorizing as to Moses’ visage.  The most notable example is R. Yisrael Lipschutz’s comments at the end of Kiddushin.  See Shnayer Z. Leiman, “R. Israel Lipschutz and the Portrait of Moses Controversy,” in Isadore Twersky, ed., Danzig, Between East and West: Aspects of Modern Jewish History (Cambridge, Mass., 1985), pp. 51-63, and for a different version, “R. Israel Lipschutz: The Portrait of Moses,” Tradition 24:4 (Summer 1989): pp. 91-98 (available here). See also the important chapter on this subject in R’ Shmuel Ashkenazi, Alpha Beita Kadmeysuh, Jerusalem:2000, pp. 337-371. For additional sources on this story see R’ Dov Turish in his various works; Maznei Tzedek, p.149, 310; Ginzei Ha-Melech, p. 38, 40, 43,48, 56; MiArat haMchpeilah, p. 101 and onwards.
[3] Shmuel Glick, Kuntress ha-Teshuvot he-Hadash, Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies, Jerusalem & Ramat Gan, 2007, n. 2120.  For more on Glick’s work see here and  here.
[4] Richard I. Cohen, Jewish Icons, Art & Society in Modern Europe, University of California Press, Berkley & Los Angles, 1998, 127.
[5] Marvin J. Heller, The Sixteenth Century Hebrew Book, An Abridged Thesaurus, Vol. I, Brill Leiden & Boston, 2004, 242-43.
[6] That is not to say the first to contain, rather than appear on the title page illustration, figures of living persons.  The Prague 1526 haggadah depicts, Adam, Eve, David, Goliath, Judith, and Samson in the woodcuts accompanying internal pages.  For a list of Hebrew books containing Moses with horns and without see Two Prague Haggadahs, Valmadonna Trust Library, 1978, 16-18 n.16
[7] An examination of the haskamot (approbations) accompanying the early Hanau prints also provides evidence of “the breakdown of central rabbinical authority in Germany during this period.”  Stephan G. Burnett, “Hebrew Censorship in Hanau: A mirror of Jewish-Christian coexistence in Seventeenth-century Germany,” in Raymond B. Waddington and Arthur H. Williamson, eds., The Expulsion of the Jews: 1492 and After, Garland Studies in the Renaissance, Vol. 2. New York & London: Garland Publishing Inc., 1994, pp. 202-03 (available here).
[8] Marvin J. Heller, Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book, Brill NV, Leiden, 2008, 1-17.
[9] See Daniel Sperber, Magic & Jewish Folklore in Rabbinic Literature, Bar Ilan University Press, Ramat-Gan, 1994, 97-98 and n. 29; Yosef Shaposhnik, Siddur im Revid ha-Zahav, Chief Rabbi of the Rabbinical Association, London, 1929, 63.
[10] By way of comparison, a few years after the Perach Matteh Aaron, the frontispiece of the haggadah with the commentary Mateh Aaron, Frankfort A.M., 1710 does not include any depiction of Aaron or his staff. Instead it reuses a non-Jewish woodcut that depicts the Eye of Providence – an allusion to the all seeing eye of “god” –  the trinity as it is depicted within a triangle or three sided object, as it does on the back of the US dollar bill.  But, notably, the eye appearing on the Mateh Aaron is not within a triangle.  Perhaps this was deliberately changed or the original woodcut for some other reason elected not to use the triangle, but to arrive at any definitive conclusion requires additional research into the history of the particular woodcut which is outside the scope of this article.

[11] Ruth Mellinkoff, The Horned Moses in Medieval Art & Thought, University of California Press, Berkley, 1970, 105,94-96.
[12] Dan Rabinowitz, “Yarmulke: A Historic Cover-up?,” akirah: The Flatbush Journal of Jewish Law and Thought, 4 (2007): 231-32.
[13] E.L Sukenik, The Synagogue of Dura-Europos and its Frescoes, Bialik Foundation, (Jerusalem, Palestine):1947, 97.



The Gematriya Haggadah

The Gematriya Haggadah
By Eli Genauer
I try to buy a new Haggadah every year to make sure I have something new to say. It is especially important at my stage in life when grandchildren will remind you if you use last year’s Dvar Torah.
This year’s Haggadah was definitely in the category of “מה נשתנה ההגדה הזאת מכל ההגדות”. It’s name is ״כוס ישועות״  and it was printed on the Isle of Djerba, Tunisia in 1947. It’s author was Rabbi David Cohen (also known as רבי דוד כהן אלמג׳רבי) who served as the Rav in the southern Tunisian city of Tataouine (תיטאוין). The text of the Haggadah is translated into Judeo-Arabic and the Halachos and instructions are in that language. Thankfully, the Peirush of Rav Cohen is in Hebrew which allowed me access to his approach to the Haggadah.
We find out a bit about Rav Cohen from the Haskamah given at the beginning of the book by six prominent Rabbis of Djerba. It states as follows:
הרב זצ״ל היה כמעט הראשון בהתישבות אחינו בית ישראל שם מראשיתו בתור שוחט ובודק ומרביץ תורה ושליח צבור,ואחר כך נתמנה לרב ומורה צדק שם.
We learn that he was a pioneer in establishing the Jewish community in Tataouine and served in many capacities there before become the Rav of the town. He authored numerous books, some printed while he was alive, and some, like this Hagaddah, printed after his Petirah in 1934.
The Haggadah was printed by a committee (המשתדלים) in Tataouine who raised money for this purpose. There are over 800 names of families or individuals who contributed to its publication. Included in this are over 100 contributors from Tataouine which gives one some idea of the size of the community.
Most of the contributors included with their names the memory of a deceased relative or a blessing for a hoped for milestone for their children. Some of the blessings were familiar to me and others were a bit different.

For a married child: ויפקדהו בבנים זכרים של קיימא אמן abbreviated as ויפקדהו בבזשק״א

This seemed to reflect a cultural preference for boys and perhaps a high rate of infant mortality.

There were no blessings for someone just to have children.

For boys there were two blessings depending on age:

ויזכה לתורה ולתפילין ולחופה and ויזכה לתפילין ולחופה

For unmarried men the hope was ויזכה לחופה 

For those a bit older (?), it was ויזכה לחופה בקרוב
In his Hakdamah, the author explains why he chose to name his Peirush כוס ישועות. He writes that the Gematriya of כוס ישועות is the same as אני הקטן דוד בן המנוח אבאתו כהן. Sort of.  The total of the latter is nine short but if you add to it the nine words כוס ישועות andאני הקטן דוד בן המנוח אבאתו כהן it comes out the same ( 878 ). One senses that the author is very attuned to Gematriyos and his commentary proves this to be true.
A good example of Rav Cohen’s use of Gematriyos is how he plays with the phrase הא לחמא עניא
He first notes that הא לחמא  has the same numerical value as the word מילה (85) indicating that בזכות המילה יצאו ממצרים.

He then writes that the word עניא has the numerical value of ענוה indicating that דבזכות הענוה יצאו
Getting back to הא לחמא which equals 85, he relates it to the word פה which has the same numerical value. Matzah is לחם עוני which requires us to do the following: שׁצריך פה האדם לענות בליל פסח בהלל והודאה לשמו יתברך שעשׂה עמנו ניסים ונפלאו

Finally, if you take the total of the first letters of הא לחמא עניא די אכלו you get 110 which is the number of years that Yosef lived. This hints at the fact that it was because of the sale of Yosef, the Jews suffered in Egypt.
The city of Tataouine is famous in popular culture because it served as the inspiration for the name of the fictional planet of Tatooine in the Star Wars movie series. Many of the scenes of Luke Skywalker’s home planet in the original movie were shot near Tataouine. I was very glad to meet a real inhabitant of Tataouine, one who has enhanced my Seder experience.



On the Maxwell House Haggadah

For contemporary American Jews, it is not an exaggeration to claim the Maxwell House Haggadah, as one of the most commonly used and widely known haggadahs. Even President Obama was aware of this history when he quipped regarding another recent haggadah “does this mean we can no longer use the Maxwell House Haggadah anymore?”

 

The first Maxwell House sponsored haggadah was published in 1932. [1] The Haggadah wasn’t published btwetween 1941 and 1948, but otherwise has been consistently published yearly, if in a changed format.  In the early years,   the editions were nearly the same with the only substantive change to update the included five-year calender. The sameness perhaps explains why the New York Times in two different articles accompanied by the identical photograph of the Maxwell House Haggdah, captions one 1932 and the other 1934.

 

The 1932 date is confirmed by the Maxwell House advertising campaign that included the Haggadah.
Maxwell House was not the first corporate sponsored haggadah, there were many before it.  For example, the West Side National Bank in Chicago sponsored one in 1919, which was printed in both Yiddish and English versions. Sometime in the 1920s, the American National Bank in Newark (whose name appeared in English and Yiddish) sponsored a haggadah, this one included both Hatikvah and the Star Spangled Banner (a common occurrence in many haggadahs published in America). Numerous other banks sponsored haggadas throughout the 1920s.  Postum, a coffee “substitute” put out its own haggdah in 1935, by then Postum was also part of the General Foods’ portfolio.
In 1929, Yeshiva Chaim Berlin sponsored one as “a token of gratitude to its donors.”  The Haggadah was in Hebrew and English with a Yiddish introduction.  The Haggadah also contains an image that includes a star of David flanked by the flag of the United States and the Zionist flag.
Chaim Berlin Flag
 – although in the introduction the editors write that the haggadah was distributed “in the fervent hope that this token will serve as a reminder of [the recipient’s] holy obligation to help the Yeshiva and assist in the undertaking to erect the new building.”  It includes illustrations of the Zionist and American flags, every teacher/rabbi pictured is beardless, and there are numerous pictures of the classrooms, many of which have a portrait of Lincoln hanging. Finally, it contains “a brief survey of the Yeshiva Rabbi Chaim Berlin, founded in 1912.” [By 1970, Yeshiva Chaim Berlin sponsored/published five haggadahs. See Yudolov, Otzar ha-Haggadaot, index, sub. Yeshiva Chaim Berlin.]
Some corporate sponsorships tied in more directly to the food and drink of Peasach, wine and meat. For example, Hebrew National meat products sponsored a haggadah.  Mogen David wines sponsored a haggadah in the 1920’s.(It is lacking a date, however, Yudolov, Otzar ha-Haggadot, no. 2807, dates it to “192-”. If Yudolov is correct, then Pinney’s dating of the use of brand Mogen David to 1947, needs to be corrected.  Thomas Pinney, A History of Wine in America, Univ. of Calif. Press, 2005, 174.)   Similarly, Another wine company, Schapiro’s House of Kosher Wines, California Wine Company, sponsored one in 1941.  And the Manischewitz Company, got into the haggadah sponsorship game in 1943.  While Striets[‘] Matza sponsored one in 1945.
Nor was this practice limited to sponsorship of Hebrew publications.  In 1900, Chase & Sanborn, then one of the largest US coffee concerns, issued a booklet, by one of its owners, to promote its Seal brand coffee, After Dinner Tricks and Puzzles with Your Seal Brand Coffee.  Among the brainteasers was “how many hard boiled eggs can a hungry man eat on an empty stomach?”  Answer:  One only, for after eating one, his stomach would no longer be empty.”  [The booklet also included illustrations and language that through a contemporary lens would be viewed as racist and misogynistic.]
The first edition of the Maxwell House Haggadah was issued in 1932, see supra. (The origin of the company’s name is that a roaster began selling his beans to a prestigious Nashville hotel, Maxwell House, creating a name that is similar to sponsorship.) It contains illustrations that are “reproductions of mediaeval woodcuts and of paintings of old masters.”  The illustrations are neither reproductions of woodcuts or mediaeval, instead, the illustrations can be dated to the 18th and 19th centuries and they were printed with modern techniques.
The sponsorship is indicated on a plain paper cover, “prepared by General Foods Corporation packers of Vita-Fresh Maxwell House Coffee Kosher for Passover” (General Foods appears in smaller type than Maxwell House).  This later changed to a more colorful cover.  The anonymous introduction is written from the perspective of General Foods.  The introduction explains the rational for sponsoring this haggadah that “General Foods Corporation, packers of Maxwell House Coffee, whose relations with the Jewish people have always been most friendly, take pleasure in presenting this new, up-to-date edition of The Haggadah.”  Aside from General Foods touting its relationship with “the Jewish people” there were other reasons General Foods likely sponsored the haggadah.  After the stock market crash in 1929, Maxwell House lost considerable market share.  And, in 1932, General Foods switched its advertising agency to Benton & Bowles, in the hope of turning around Maxwell House sales.  To further this revamped advertising strategy, General Foods “allotted a whopping $3.1 million . . . to advertise Maxwell House.”  And with this advertising dollars, came sponsorships.  The most notable sponsorship was that of a radio show, the Maxwell House Show Boat, that turned into an enormous success greatly increasing it market share, and, the haggada, while perhaps then a lesser known sponsorship, ironically, today it is more well known.
Turning to the advertising aspect of the haggadah, aside from the sponsorship, the final page is a full page ad for Maxwell House and, like the title page, touts the “vita-fresh process” which “assures of full flavor and deliciousness.  Not a trace of air remains in the can to cause loss of flavor or deterioration.” General Foods’ vacuum technique, vita-fresh, was introduced in 1931 to counter Chase & Sanborn’s earlier adoption of vacuum for its coffee and its accompanying advertisements proclaiming that without vacuum the coffee produces “rancid oil” which was “the cause of indigestion, headaches, sleeplessness,” an implicit criticism of Maxwell House.  [Chase & Sunborn were not even the first to adopt this technology.  Instead, the Hill Brothers pioneered the use of vacuum to preserve coffee freshness in 1900, Chase wouldn’t adopt it until the late 1920s and Maxwell House in the 1930s.] Ultimately, as mentioned above, vita-fresh didn’t save Maxwell House, it was the radio show.  Thus, in the second edition of the Maxwell House, it no longer mentions vita-fresh.
There were many companies that sponsored haggadahs in the early twentieth century, today only Maxwell House survives. To account for that longevity it is helpful to keep in mind the unique conditions that led to Maxwell House’s sponsorship — the increase focus on advertising.  The other corporate sponsorships, all predate the stock market crash and subsequent Depression.  While there is no direct evidence, it is likely that those companies reduced their advertising budgets and with that went their haggadah sponsorship.  Maxwell House, however, began its sponsorship after the stock market crash and its sponsorship remained undisturbed by external economic forces, remaining the last survivor of the early Twentieth Century corporate sponsors of the Haggadah.
Notes
[1] See Yudolov, Otzar ha-Haggadot no. 3428. Although the title page does not provide a date, the Haggadah includes a five-year Hebrew calendar.  Thus, to date the Haggadah, the first year indicated in the calendar is used as a proxy for the date of publication.  The first edition includes a calendar beginning in 1932, the next edition begins with 1933, and so on.  See Yudolov, nos. 3428, 3455, 3489, 3594, 3620, 3656, 3689, 3721.
References
Haggadah: Yudolov, Otzar ha-Haggadot, Magnus Press, Jerusalem [n.d]; Goldman, Hebrew Printing in America, Brooklyn, NY:2006, no. 170; Yaari, Bibliography of the Passover Haggadah, Bamberer & Wahrman, Jerusalem, 1960.
Coffee: Pendergrast, Uncommon Grounds, Basic Book, USA, 1999, 125, 191-96.
For an survey of coffee, see Modernist Cuisine, The Cooking Lab, Washington:2011, vol. IV, 357-403.

 

The most comprehensive book discussing how to brew (excellent) coffee using a variety of methods, see Scott Rao, Everything but Espresso, Professional Coffee Brewing Techniques, Canada, 2010.