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.”

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.

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).

Romm Press, Haggadah Art, Controversial Books, and other Bibliographical Historica

Legacy Auctions: Romm Press, Haggadah Art, Controversial Books, and other Bibliographical Historica

Legacy Judaica’s fall auction is next week, September 13, and we wanted to highlight some bibliographical historica. Lot 95 is Elbona shel Torah, (Berlin, 1929), by R. Shmuel Shraga Feigneshon, known as Safan ha-Sofer. He helmed the operations of the Romm Press in Vilna. During his 55-year tenure, he oversaw the publication of the monumental Vilna Shas, among numerous other canonical works that became the model for all subsequent editions. He wrote a history of the press which first appeared in part in the journal HaSofer (vol. 1 27-33 and vol. 2-3 46-57, 1954-55). It was then published in its entirety in Yahadut Lita vol. 1. 1959. This biography was plagiarized in nearly every respect by the Yated Ne’eman. It was a near-perfect reproduction (albeit in English rather than the original Hebrew), except that certain names and select passages were omitted presumably because they reference Jewish academics or other materials deemed objectional to Haredi audiences.

In Elbona shel Torah, (51-52), Shafan Ha-Sofer discusses the censorship of Jewish texts from non-Jewish authorities. There were not only omissions but also additions to the text. He identifies one of the angels mentioned in the supplications between the Shofar sets with Jesus. He claims that “Yeshu Sa’ar ha-Pinim” is in fact Jesus of Nazareth. Nonetheless, he notes that this passage was included in most mahzorim. Indeed, in the first Romm edition of the Mahzor this angel appears. He explains that after it was published a rabbi from Yemen, who was unfamiliar with the historic inclusion of the passage, was shocked when he came this passage. He immediately set about issuing a ban on all the Romm books, classifying them within the category of a sefer torah of a heretic which is consigned to the fire. But the ban was annulled after a Jerusalem rabbi intervened and explained to his clergy brother that in fact the Romm edition merely followed an accepted text. According to Shafan ha-Sofer, after this brush with what is described as potential financial ruin, later editions of the Vilna Mahzor omit Yeshu.

Two books feature on their title pages an immodest Venus rising. The title page of R. Moshe Isserles, Torat ha-Hatat, Hanau, 1628, lot 33, depicts in the bottom center of page Venus with a loincloth. Additionally, on the two sides of the pages two similarly exposed women appear in medieval costume. This particular title page was reused on at least three other books. A similarly undressed woman appears on the title page of R. Isaac of Corbeil’s Amudei Golah, Cremona 1556, lot 1.

Naftali Hertz Wessley’s, Divrei Shalom ve-Emet, Berlin, 1782, lot 99, (volume 2), is the controversial work wherein he provides his educational program. Although some of his other works secured the approbations of leading Orthodox rabbi, some of the more traditional rabbis were opposed to Wessley’s reforms advocated in Divrei. See our discussion here, and Moshe Samet, Hadash Assur min ha-Torah (Jerusalem, Carmel, 2005), 78-83; Edward Breuer, “Naphtali Herz Wessely and the Cultural Dislocations of an Eighteenth-Century Maskil,” in New Perspectives on the Haskalah, Shmuel Feiner and David Sorkin eds., (London, Littman Library, 2001), 27-47.. Wessley advocated for the inclusion of some secular studies, separate grades for children of different ages and abilities, and satisfying testing requirements. These and many others of his suggested reforms are now commonplace in Orthodox schools. He was interested in improving all aspects of Jewish education and chided his more acculturated Jews who only adopted his policies as they related to secular subjects but did not otherwise incorporate contemporary intellectual rigor to their Jewish studies. Copies of the originals of the work are rare.

Another book that aroused a controversy is R. Zechariah Yosef Rosenfeld of St. Louis’ work, Yosef Tikva, St. Louis, 1903. Rosenfeld defends the use of machine manufactured matzot for Passover. There is a significant literature regarding the use of these matzot, see Hayim Gartner, “Machine Matzah, the Halakhic Controversy as a Test Case for Defining Orthodoxy,” in Orthodox Judaism: New Perspectives, (Jerusalem, Magnes Press, 2006), 395-425 (Hebrew) and Jonathan Sarna, How Matzah Became Square: Manischewitz and the Development of Machine-Made Matzah in the United States, (New York, Touro College, 2005) .

Another Passover item Yaakov Agam’s limited edition of the Haggadah, Paris, 1985, lot 138. Agam adds a rich color palette to the otherwise spare style of the German illustrator, Otto Geismar. His 1928 haggadah uses minimalism to great effect and has a whimsical flair, yet at times the thick black ink figures are dark and foreboding. Agam’s offers of a kaleidoscopic version of the haggada that is purely uplifting.

Otto Geismar, Berlin 1928

Yaakov Agam, Paris 1985

Aside from the books, one letter of note, Lot 182. In 1933 letter from R. Hayim Ozer Grodzensky writes that he had proclaimed a fast in Vilna in response to the rise of Hitler and that “the new persecutions will cause the old to be forgotten.” Despite the fact that R. Ozer recognized almost immediately the threat of Hitler, during WWII he was not as prescient. As late as March 1940, he was encouraging Jews to remain in Vilna. See Eliezer Rabinowitz, R. Hayim Ozer’s Prophesy for Vilna has Been Fulfilled,” Morgen Journal, May 8, 1940.

Two final items, both relate to the Volozhin yeshiva. The first is a copy of Meil Tzedakah, Prague 1756, lot 158that belonged to R. Yosef Dov Soloveitchik, the Bet ha-Levi, and rosh ha-yeshiva of Volozhin. The book also belonged to the Vilna rabbi, R. Abraham Pasveller, and R. Chaim Soloveitchik. The second, lot 166, is a letter by the R. Naftali Berlin, Netziv, the Bet Ha-Levi’s co-Rosh ha-Yeshiva and eventual disputant. He writes to the journal HaTzfirah (see these posts (here, here and here) regarding the Netziv and reading the contemporary press), regarding 1886 fire in Volozhin Yeshiva and the rebuilding efforts. Among other things, he sought to publicizes the names of donor and provided a list from memory. Among the donors was Yisrael Brodsky. Although Brodsky was a major donor to the Volozhin Yeshiva and a highly acculturated Orthodox Jews, some have attempted to portray him otherwise. See our post “For the Sake of Radin! The Sugar Magnate’s Missing Yarmulke and a Zionist Revision.”

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).

Upcoming Auction

Kestenbaum & Co. will be holding an auction next Thursday, Feb. 24th. On its site, it provides some highlights, and I wanted to point out a few others. Additionally, one can download the entire catalog by visiting the site. The first edition of R. Yosef Albo’s Sefer ha-Ikarim, Soncino 1485, being an incunabula is of course of note (lot 7). But, the colophon of this work is especially noteworthy. The colophon ends with “Ki mi-Tzion teitze Torah u-devar Hashem mi-Soncino.” Of course, this is a a play on the verse in Isaiah. While today we know that the printing press indeed usher in a new era of Torah and the dissemination of knowledge, this colophon at the end of a work published at the advent of the printing press is especially prescient.Another early and important work, is what is known as the “second Rabbinic bible,” today we know it as Mikra’ot Gedolot (lot 53). This edition as well as the “first” is discussed by Prof. Penkower in this post. Then we have a perennial favorite, R. Shmuel Arcivolti’s Ma’ayan Ganim (lot 41). This book is perhaps most well-known for its misuse. Prof. Shapiro’s post discusses some of the issues with the use of this work. But, it is worth noting that the book is divided into five sections, each beginning with the same illustration – a fountain. First, most early Hebrew books don’t contain illustration in the body (title pages are a different story). Second, the fountain shows a group of (very nude) cherubs with the fountain waters exiting from a less than flattering orifice. The book is currently available online, although who is to know when someone will discover the images and remove it. R. Yom Tov Lipmann Heller’s classic work on the Rosh – today known as Ma’adnei Asher and Divrei Chamudoth – is offered with its original title (lot 136). This is the first edition and the only to bear the original title – Maadeni Melech ve-Lechem Chammudoth. According to some, the change in title was precipitated by a false rumour that the original title indicated an insult to the ruling monarch. It is worth noting, that in the latest edition of R. Heller’s quasi-autobiography, Megilat Evah, the editor raises some questions as to whether this truly is the reason for changing the title. Another important title, in this case the title page is the Sha’ar bat Rabim (lot 169). This work has a beautifully illustrated title page as well as other pages. Please see this post On The Main Line where he discusses it. There are a few titles relating to haskalah. First, is one volume of the seminal Journal, Ha-Me’asef (lot 137). This volume contains the first appearance R. Yitzhak Satanow’s Mishlei Asaf, a work written in the style of Mishlei with extensive notes. As well as David Freidlander’s attack on R. Fleckles after Fleckles had denounced Mendelshon’s Biur. Finally, it contains an important article regarding the controversy of whether or not one can delay burial to ensure the person is in fact dead. One addition to the note on this lot, Moshe Samat has an important article on this last topic which was recently republished in the collection of his articles, Hadash Assur min ha-Torah. Another two haskalah works are Nachman Krochmal’s Moreh Nevuchei ha-Zeman (lot 164) and R. Moshe Kunitz’s defense of the Zohar, Ben Yochi (lot 165). Finally, R. Naftali Hertz Wessely’s Divrei Shalom ve-Emet (lot 209) rounds out the haskalah. This book which advanced novel, for that time, educational theories was a subject of a large controversy. Interestingly enough, today, most of his reforms have been incorporated into Jewish schools. The auction contains the Cassuto Collection (which you can read more about in the catalog) which focuses on Spainish and Portugese Jews. Now, for must of the past 500 years, that meant not Jews actually in those countries but who originated from those countries. The most popular of which is Holland – specifically Amsterdam. So we have a beautiful copy of R. Isaac Aboab work on Tanach with a portrait (lot 264) as well another (lot 263) from a Dutch Jews, where, inter alia, he criticizes the American revolution. On the topic of Dutch Jews, an excellent recent work is Nadler’s, Rembrandt’s Jews. See also this post discussing some internal conflicts within the Dutch community, as well as the first Jewish settlement in the Americas. A few letters of interest. First, a letter from the Chofetz Hayyim thanking a donor for their donation to the ladies auxilary of Radin (lot 232). There are three letters from each of the past three Luavitcher’s rebbitzins, all fairly personal, discussing their move from the “Motherland” (Russia) to Latvia (lots 246-48).

Modesty and Piety: Improving on the Past

Modesty and Piety: Improving on the Past

by: Michael K. Silber

The Hebrew University of Jerusalem

The well known “coat of arms” of the priestly Rapaport family first appeared as a colophon at the end of Avraham Menachem Rapa of Porto’s Mincha Belulah (Verona, 1594), fol. 207b, readily at HebrewBooks.org (here). Instead of a motto, a banner proclaimed the author’s name above and below the shield which featured a pair of hands raised in priestly benediction in the upper half, while below was depicted a crow (Rabe in German) on a branch, a reference to the author’s family name. The shield is flanked by two heraldic supporters, and this is what interests us here.

The supporters feature two female torsos rampant facing away from the shield. They are nude from the waist up.

It was by no means rare to encounter nude women in Hebrew books between the sixteenth and the early eighteenth centuries, even prominently displayed on the covers (Adam accompanied at times by a buxom Eve is a ready example). But no doubt such nudity proves unsettling to the Orthodox public nowadays.

Benjamin Shlomo Hamburger’s recently published magisterial three volume history, Ha-Yeshiva ha-Rama bi-Fiorda (Bnei Brak, 5770) is a rich, learned study by one who has dedicated many scholarly books to the heritage of German Jewry. The volumes are noteworthy also for their rich illustrations, but one in particular catches the eye.

A chapter dedicated to Baruch Kahana Rapaport who served for many years as rabbi of Fürth (1711-1746), reproduces, as many a study on the Rapaports, the “coat of arms” from Mincha Belulah (volume 1, page 390).

But the supporters here have been modestly transgendered and piously rendered with beards!

Several studies by Jacob J. Schacter and others have noted the tendency to “verbessern” the past in Orthodox historiography. This then is a modest (but not very pious) contribution to the topic from the perspective of visual evidence of the past.

Addendum:

Dan Rabinowitz

the Seforim blog

It is indeed import to note as Dr. Michael K. Silber has, that we have yet another example of doctoring history to conform with today’s anachronistic views. But, we should note that this is not the first time the Rapoport coat of arms has undergone a change. Before turning to this early example, we need to a make a few points.

As Dr. Silber notes, this coat of arms appears at the end of the first edition of Mincha Belulah, Verona, 1594. Rapoport created this herald and the herald contains allusions to his name – Rapoport. Hida, R. Hayyim Yosef David Azulai, no Reform rabbi, includes an entry on Rapoport in Hida’s Shem HaGedolim (Machret Seforim, Mem, sub. Mincha Belula). Importantly, although the herald appears at the back of Mincha Belulah, Hida calls attention to this herald. Hida notes that “Rapoport” is spelled differently on the herald than on the title page. But, no where does Hida question the inclusion of the bare-breasted women on this rabbinic herald. Moreover, Hida doesn’t alert that reader that if one looks up the herald there are these “offensive” images. Hida’s silence is remarkable but only if one ignores the prevalence of such imagery in Hebrew books. That is, Mincha Belula is not the only work to include such imagery. For example, as we have previously discussed, other works include similar imagery (see here, here, here, here, for examples of nudes, and here for examples of mythological images).

We also note that this was not the first time the herald from the Mincha Belulah has been modified. In the 1989 Beni Brak reprint of Mincha Belulah, the images are also altered. While they haven’t been turned into men, the women are more modestly clothed. The image below is taken from this edition.

Illustrated Title Pages in Upcoming Auction Catalog

This Thursday, Kestenbaum & Co. is having an auction. The catalog is available online and the viewing takes place this week. For those interested in some highlights, the website provides those. But, I wanted to highlight a theme that hasn’t been noted. First, a quick background regarding Hebrew book auctions. [Note, this is not a comprehensive attempt.] There are five auction houses that concentrate on Hebrew books, Kestenbaum, Judica Jerusalem, Asufa, Baronovitch, and, a recent entry, Kedem. While all five concentrate on Hebrew books, they are all unique in many ways. First, the catalog. With the exception of Judaica Jerusalem, all offer their catalogs online. Additionally, they also offer them in hard copy format through subscriptions. Kestenbaum and Baronovitch are American auction houses, while the others are Israeli. Of the two American, Kestenbaum has auctions more frequently. Both American typically have two to three hundred lots, while the Israeli ones have as many as 800. The Israeli ones provide illustrations for every lot and descriptions in Hebrew and English (although, at times, the English translations can be very poor). Kestenbaum doesn’t have illustrations for every lot. Which gets us to our hidden theme. In the lots that provide photos of the title pages, many title pages carry a mythological or Christian theme. Of course, we are not suggesting that these were selected because of this theme, instead, we are merely pointing it out.

Mythological Title Pages

The first illustration is for lot # 4, Mirkeveth ha-Mishna Abrabanel’s commentary to Devarim. This edition of Sabbioneta, 1551 (the first Hebrew book published there), carries the illustration of Mars and Minerva.

This is not the only time this title page appears. Indeed, in this auction catalog’s illustrations it appears on three other illustrated books. See lots 171, 191 and 217. That is, these other books share the same title illustration. Marvin Heller, in his article discussing this title page explains that, as one probably surmised, this title page with its mythical theme, first appeared in non-Jewish books. Beginning in 1523 this title page was employed in a variety of non-Jewish books. It would be our book, Mirkeveth ha-Mishna, that would be the first Hebrew book to re-use this title page. Heller, traces the subsequent history in his article for those looking for more information on this title page. Marvin Heller, “Mars & Minerva on the Hebrew Title Page,” in Papers of the Bibliographical Society of America, 98:3 (Sept. 2004).

The second illustration related to mythological theme is that of lot # 221, Pirkei Rebi Eliezer, Sabbionetta, 1567. This title page shows Hercules striking Hydra the multi-headed snake (the illustration seems very similar to that of Antonio del Pollaiolo’s “Hercules and the Hydra.”).

We now turn to the Christian title page. This one is from lot #129, Haggadah shel Pesach, Amsterdam, 1712. The title page, at the top, depicts Moshe at the burning bush. This Haggadah, which is known as the Second Amsterdam Hagaddah due to it being the second edition of the Haggadah to carry copperplate engravings rather than wood. These engravings were done by a convert, Abraham ben Jacob (whose name was removed from the title page in this edition). Ben Jacob used a well known Christian engravers illustrations as models for the Haggadah illustrations. So, Moshe at the burning bush illustrations is almost the same, with the exception that the triangle surrounding God’s name (depicting the Trinity) is removed in the haggadah. Both appear below.

Yerushalmi, in Haggadah and History, shows other examples of borrowing in this Haggadah.

It is worth noting a few more benign title page illustrations that appear in this catalog. The first is that of lot #165, Amudei Golah, Cremona, 1556 that shows in the center a medallion personifying Cremona, while in the “upper section is the head of a winged horse, with a bare-breasted woman to the right and a man to the left.” Marvin Heller, The Sixteenth Century Hebrew Book, p. 417.

Finally, we get to the last book we shall discuss, one of the earliest to include a portrait of the author on the frontispiece, lot 84, Kehunat Avraham, Venice, 1719. Additionally, one can see that he is wearing a wig, not all that uncommon amongst the Rabbinic sect for the period of time it was universially fashionable. For example, R. David Neito is shown with a wig, as are others. One well known example of one who skipped the wig was R. Yehudah Areyeh Modena, who appears in his portrait completely bald.