An Heroic Figure
Written By: Nathan D. Kaplan
The modern Zionist movement, from its very inception with the first Chovevi Zion, even before the advent of Dr. Theodor Herzl and the first Zionist Congress, has produced many heroic figures; pioneers who staked their all (life included) for the realization of an ideal.
The mind visualizes these, however, as the pioneers who braved the malaria ridden devastation, that by their exertion in draining the swamps and planting seeds, the desert which was once the land of milk and honey might again produce sustenance for the Jewish nation.
There are, nevertheless, pioneers equally as heroic, equally as important to the achievement of the ideal, whose field of action was not that of agriculture, who did not number among the colonists nor even amongst the chalutzim; pioneers whose energies were spent in the realm of culture, who none the less furnish as romantic a setting to this period of Jewish history as any who earned their fame on the field of battle or by adventurous experiences as trail blazers in a virgin wilderness.
Foremost among these stands out the figure of Professor Boris Shatz, founder and director of the Bezalel School of Arts and Crafts of Jerusalem. He was still a young man during the early days of this twentieth century, yet had he already achieved signal recognition of his worth as an artist. Professor at the Royal Academy of Arts, and Crown Sculptor to the King of Bulgaria, he had already commenced his ascent on the ladder of renown. Palestine was then a mere possibility. The world called the Zionist program a dream. The Jews in Jerusalem were poor and dependent; the colonies were few and struggling; the Arabs were indifferent and in no better state; not a very inviting field of labor for the achievement of an artistic career. Herzl had inflamed the Zionists’ hope to a pitch that stimulated endeavor; Endeavor demanding courage such as is possessed only by the select of God. Men who had nothing to lose, refugees from oppression and persecution might go to Palestine and face the hardship. Theirs was a courage called forth by necessity; but Shatz was not of that class. He was free. He had been successful. He was comfortable. The soul of the artist within him burned with a yearning desire for the achievement of the super-art; not only a work of art would he produce, but art itself—a national art—a Jewish art. He would teach arts and also crafts to the poor in Jerusalem. He would surround himself with men and women of vision and imagination. He would instill into them the fervor of the Jewish spirit that should find expression through a medium more eloquent than speech or song.
He left his position at home, abandoned his career and set out anew to make his great contribution to the life of the renewed Jewish nation that was to be in Palestine.
Few even of those who have witnessed those exquisite exhibits of Bezalel Arts and Crafts which Professor Shatz has brought to these United States, can comprehend the actual worth of this achievement and the undaunted heroism that was the source of its production. Without means, hindered by every conceivable obstacle, interrupted by the ravages of the great war, opposed by the forces of narrow vision, faced at times not alone by physical hunger, but by the heart-rending spectacle of hungering groups of disciples and fellow-workers, Professor Shatz has persistently adhered to his ideal, and the end of these first twenty years of the Bezalel School of Arts and Crafts bears witness to the sprouting of a new seed in the cultural field of the Jewish people. A Jewish national art promises to develop from this wild flower blown by the winds from the fields of Bulgaria. Not the art productions of the Bezalel School are to be judged or criticized, but the super-art production of Professor Shatz—a Jewish national art—promises to be judged or criticized and to exercise its contributing influence upon the culture of our civilization in the future.
An Heroic Figure
Written By: Nathan D. Kaplan
The modern Zionist movement, from its very inception with the first Chovevi Zion, even before the advent of Dr. Theodor Herzl and the first Zionist Congress, has produced many heroic figures; pioneers who staked their all (life included) for the realization of an ideal.
The mind visualizes these, however, as the pioneers who braved the malaria ridden devastation, that by their exertion in draining the swamps and planting seeds, the desert which was once the land of milk and honey might again produce sustenance for the Jewish nation.
There are, nevertheless, pioneers equally as heroic, equally as important to the achievement of the ideal, whose field of action was not that of agriculture, who did not number among the colonists nor even amongst the chalutzim; pioneers whose energies were spent in the realm of culture, who none the less furnish as romantic a setting to this period of Jewish history as any who earned their fame on the field of battle or by adventurous experiences as trail blazers in a virgin wilderness.
Foremost among these stands out the figure of Professor Boris Shatz, founder and director of the Bezalel School of Arts and Crafts of Jerusalem. He was still a young man during the early days of this twentieth century, yet had he already achieved signal recognition of his worth as an artist. Professor at the Royal Academy of Arts, and Crown Sculptor to the King of Bulgaria, he had already commenced his ascent on the ladder of renown. Palestine was then a mere possibility. The world called the Zionist program a dream. The Jews in Jerusalem were poor and dependent; the colonies were few and struggling; the Arabs were indifferent and in no better state; not a very inviting field of labor for the achievement of an artistic career. Herzl had inflamed the Zionists’ hope to a pitch that stimulated endeavor; Endeavor demanding courage such as is possessed only by the select of God. Men who had nothing to lose, refugees from oppression and persecution might go to Palestine and face the hardship. Theirs was a courage called forth by necessity; but Shatz was not of that class. He was free. He had been successful. He was comfortable. The soul of the artist within him burned with a yearning desire for the achievement of the super-art; not only a work of art would he produce, but art itself—a national art—a Jewish art. He would teach arts and also crafts to the poor in Jerusalem. He would surround himself with men and women of vision and imagination. He would instill into them the fervor of the Jewish spirit that should find expression through a medium more eloquent than speech or song.
He left his position at home, abandoned his career and set out anew to make his great contribution to the life of the renewed Jewish nation that was to be in Palestine.
Few even of those who have witnessed those exquisite exhibits of Bezalel Arts and Crafts which Professor Shatz has brought to these United States, can comprehend the actual worth of this achievement and the undaunted heroism that was the source of its production. Without means, hindered by every conceivable obstacle, interrupted by the ravages of the great war, opposed by the forces of narrow vision, faced at times not alone by physical hunger, but by the heart-rending spectacle of hungering groups of disciples and fellow-workers, Professor Shatz has persistently adhered to his ideal, and the end of these first twenty years of the Bezalel School of Arts and Crafts bears witness to the sprouting of a new seed in the cultural field of the Jewish people. A Jewish national art promises to develop from this wild flower blown by the winds from the fields of Bulgaria. Not the art productions of the Bezalel School are to be judged or criticized, but the super-art production of Professor Shatz—a Jewish national art—promises to be judged or criticized and to exercise its contributing influence upon the culture of our civilization in the future.