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Nancy Katz reflects... |
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I am a very privileged woman. It is my job to create ritual objects that speak to people, that help bring individuals closer to themselves and to their personal G-d. I imagine that the feelings of privilege which I possess are similar to those known to therapists and to clergy. I provide a small opening. The opening takes others to new places. It is truly an honor. I believe that the relationship between creativity and spirituality is like that of the two wicks of a Havdalah candle--- they are intimately entwined, and once lit they are impossible to differentiate as separate lights. Providing others with opportunities to discover (or re-discover, as in the case of most adults) their own creative power thrills me. I witness openings in many forms--- individuals pick, design, or even co-create tallitot; children learn the art of tzitzit tying, connecting them with the ancient tradition; and community groups/synagogues make chuppot (wedding canopies), parochetot (ark curtains), or Torah covers in a matter of days. When members of a community work together to replace a tattered Torah cover or to create an ark curtain where before there was none, they become collaborators in the ritual of hiddur mitzvah (beautification). Most often the task of beautifying and embellishing sacred objects and sacred spaces has been relegated to a mysterious artisan (or at least an overworked committee). When community members join forces to design and/or make a ritual object they enter into a new realm. Individuals can express their own relationship with Judaism and with G-d and simultaneously affirm their connection to community and to a collective G-d. The symbolic value attached to the finished piece far surpasses the esthetic value of the piece, though often synergistic creativity results in brilliant work. When a high school student at a summer camp declares, "I did that !" while pointing to her visual midrash on day 6 of the creation story, she is expressing personal pride and a connection to her heritage unparalleled by other means. Her banner hangs in relation to others created by her peers who also felt incapable of making art, let alone Jewish art, just days before. When a family of three can say, " We painted that kiddush cup together," while reviewing the silk covering for the ark doors that two dozen members of their New England congregation painted, they can feel that "this religion is mine!" They can claim equal footing with artisans who went before them and suddenly become more connected with not only the ark but with the Torah itself. Community art projects can be intergenerational, and transcend gender as well as perceived skill. They can be adapted to meet the specific needs of a group or event. They provide opportunities for making Judaism one's own, make the ordinary holy, express collective kavanah (connection with/commitment to G-d) and make our culture come alive. Art provides an opening, inviting one to come in and claim a sense of self and of spirituality often lost or mysteriously hidden. I encourage all to make space in their personal and communal lives to engage in visual expression of that which we have traditionally left for others to articulate. May we enrich our lives with the work of our hands, embellishing sacred spaces with our own creations. May we all find the courage to uncover and expose these hidden parts of ourselves, and celebrate in our collective beauty. Amen.
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