Recycling Millstone(s) and a New Type of Lapidarium at the Seduva (Lithuania) Jewish Cemetery

Šeduva, Lithuania. Restored Jewish cemetery. Millstone reused a grave marker.  Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

 Šeduva, Lithuania. Restored Jewish cemetery. Millstone reused a grave marker.  Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

Šeduva, Lithuania. Jewish cemetery. Memorial containing gravestone fragments. Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

Recycling Millstone(s) and a New Type of Lapidarium at the Seduva (Lithuania) Jewish Cemetery
by Samuel D. Gruber

I mentioned the use of concrete matzevot in a recent post and that is representative of the wide range of materials Jews used - by choice of necessity - to mark graves.  Surveys of Jewish cemeteries have grave markers of wood, boulders and field stone, red. blue, brown and white sandstones, all sorts of limestone, slates, granites, and marbles, and in the case of Šeduva, Lithuania and a few other places, the recycling of old mill stones.

Šeduva  is in an agricultural breadbasket area and there were once many windmills where flour was ground, and Jews often owned and operated these mills. Millstones are made of especially hard material, and when their milling life was over, there were often re-purposed to serve a gravestones in a cemetery where field stones and small boulder were also employed to mark graves. I don't know if the stones were used by families associated with the mills, or were just any another type of available stone.  A few examples can be seen here.

Šeduva, Lithuania. Restored Jewish cemetery. General view.  Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

Šeduva, Lithuania. Restored Jewish cemetery. Millstone reused a grave marker. in front of rebuilt cemetery wall.  Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

The restoration of the Jewish cemetery in Šeduva , about 175 kms north of Vilnius, is one of the best such projects I've ever seen, and I will be writing a more substantial review of the project and sites. for now, you can read this article by Evaldas Balčiūnas about the dedication on October 9, 2015.  The cemetery restoration is part of an expansive effort by the privately funded Šeduva Jewish Memorial Fund, that also includes the protection and proper presentation of three mass graves sites. There are plans for a small museum on a plot of land across from the cemetery.

 Šeduva, Lithuania. Jewish cemetery. Memorial containing gravestone fragments. Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

As part of the restoration, the team confronted the difficult decision of how to treat the many matzevot which were scattered on the site.  After mapping and photographing, several solutions were adopted. Those stones that still stood - at whatever angle - were protected but not straightened. Those that had fallen were cleaned and conserved, and set upright as close to their original position as could be ascertained. But there were hundreds of small fragments of gravestones - what to do with these?

A new and wonderful solution was devised. Instead of cementing them to the perimeter wall as has been done elsewhere, or boxing them and burying them in storage, the restorers created a new type of open air genizah or lapidarium that serves to protect and present the stones, but also to make a new monument to all those buried which the stones once commemorated as well as all those dead who were deprived proper burial.

A steel frame - much like a Richard Serra sculpture - creates a large six-pointed star-shaped basin, into which the fragments have been carefully laid. I'm sure water drainage has been considered, and because the site is open and devoid of trees, there is no danger of the memorial filling with vegetation. Still, this constructed element of the site will have to managed, just like the rest  of the cemetery grounds.

 

Šeduva, Lithuania. Jewish cemetery. Memorial containing gravestone fragments. Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

This isn't construction ruble, but the rubble of a destroyed civilization that has been lovingly collected and returned with respect to sacred ground.  This may be a one-of-a-kind solution, but it encourages us that even in the most traditional of activities - preparing a cemetery - creativity and innovation can still be applied to make a meaningful and aesthetically inspired solution.

Pakruojis, Lithuania Wooden Synagogue Restoration to Start Soon

Pakruojis, Lithuania. Synagogue (1801?).  Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015.

Pakruojis, Lithuania. Synagogue (1801?).  The distinctive shape of the roof survives. Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015.

 Pakruojis, Lithuania. Synagogue (1801?). This was probably the women's door. On the left is where the 2009 fire did the most damage.  Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

Pakruojis, Lithuania Wooden Synagogue Restoration to Start Soon
by Samuel D. Gruber 

(ISJM) The last time I wrote about the wooden synagogue of Pakruojis, Lithuania on this blog was in 2009 after a fire destroyed part of the historic synagogue, probably the oldest, most impressive and best documented of the approximately dozen or so wooden synagogues that survive in Lithuania. Now, as recently reported on Jewish-Heritage-Europe (10/4/2015)  there is big news; restoration of the building will soon begin. I had the pleasure of visiting the building last week - the first time ever that I've been.

 Pakruojis, Lithuania. Synagogue (1801?). Photo ca. 1937.
 

 Pakruojis, Lithuania. Synagogue (1801?). Photo 1930s?

Pakruojis, Lithuania. Synagogue (1801?). Painted ceiling.  Photo 1930s?
 

The Pakruojis synagogue, probably dates from 1801. 20th-century photos survive of its carved bimah, ark and charming wall paintings.  On the Jewish community see Dora Boom's page on Shtetlinks. After the war, from 1944 on, the synagogue served various purposes and in 1954 it was turned into a cinema and a sports hall. It has been empty for a number of years, and is now very deteriorated, though much of the obvious rot is in walls and insulation added during the years of post-Jewish use.

Pakruojis, Lithuania. Synagogue (1801?). Layers of wall  will have to be stripped away to reveal the original boards - and to see what condition these are in and weather any painted decoration remains. Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

 

Pakruojis, Lithuania. Synagogue (1801?). Ceiling and wall are not original, but the inserted wall has probably kept the building standing all these years.  Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

Pakruojis, Lithuania. Synagogue (1801?). Traces of old printed wall paper can still be since affixed to what appears to be the original walls benath later layers. Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

Restoration of the synagogue will soon begin with a more than €568,000 grant from the Lichtenstein/Iceland/Norway European Economic Area (EEA). The renovation should be completed in 2017, though as always with projects like this, delays should be expected.   Total cost of the project will be € 751,352, according to the EEA. The building will become a children’s library and according to the EEA, the restoration will recreate the murals that once adorned the inner walls of the building.  

200 or more wooden synagogues were  found across eastern Europe before World War I. Some were destroyed, but most survived and many were documented in the interwar years before their wholesale destruction in World War II, usually as part of deliberate eradication by Germans and local collaborators of the Jewish populations and their culture in towns and villages throughout present-day Poland, Lithuania, Belarus and Ukraine.

Lithuania is one of the few countries where an wooden synagogues remain, though all except Pakroukis are fairly simple buildings that probably survived destruction because of their inconspicuous appearance.

From the EEA Webpage:

After restoration of the building, educational and cultural events will be organised in the building, including an exhibition of Pakruojis Jewish culture and history commemorating the Jewish community of Pakruojis that was destroyed in the middle of the 20th century. The project will likewise aims to help address social problems by providing leisure activities and literature for young people, and contributing to job creation during the restoration period.

During the project implementation period, two training session will be organised, providing the local community with useful and valuable insights into the synagogue’s restoration process, research results and its importance to Pakruojis’ history, economy and urban development. A conference promoting tolerance and intercultural dialogue, ‘The uniqueness of Jewish heritage’, was held on 29 September 2015. The conference was open to anyone with an interest in Jewish culture and history.

Concrete Tombstones, The "Poor Cousins" of Matzevot Typology

Kalvaria, Lithuania. Jewish Cemetery. Broken Concrete Gravestone. Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

Kalvaria, Lithuania. Jewish Cemetery. Concrete Ohel. Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

Concrete Tombstones, The "Poor Cousins" of Matzevot Typology
by Samuel D. Gruber 

I first began thinking of the use of concrete for Jewish tombstones last week while watching, at a conference on Jewish Cemeteries in Europe, the new film Testimonies Carved in Stone about the Jewish cemetery in Alba Iulia, Romania.  The narrator mentioned the use of concrete for gravestones for poor people, because of the low cost of the material. instead of carving an inscription, a short epitaph could be impressed upon the concrete while it was still drying. When I visited the Jewish cemetery in my ancestral home of Kalvaria a few days later, I immediately saw the concrete stones everywhere (albeit this is a much reduced cemetery, stones from the older parts are no longer visible).

 Kalvaria, Lithuania. Jewish Cemetery. Broken Concrete Gravestones. Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

 

 Kalvaria, Lithuania. Jewish Cemetery. Concrete Gravestones, Deterioration on Back. Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

 Kalvaria, Lithuania. Jewish Cemetery. Concrete Gravestones. Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

Usually when working on issues of Jewish cemetery documentation and preservation talk of concrete, cement, cast stone or other similar composite materials comes up when discuss methods of repair - since the inappropriate use of concrete to patch stones can frequently cause more damage. 

In fact, a closer consideration of the material reveals that concrete was not uncommon as a primary materials for Jewish gravestones in the decades before the Holocaust. Just as the new material became a favorite in industrial and commercial (and even some residential) building, so too, it became increasingly accepted for use in the sacred setting of Jewish cemetery. 

 Kalvaria, Lithuania. Jewish Cemetery. Concrete Gravestones. Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

 Kalvaria, Lithuania. Jewish Cemetery. Concrete Gravestones. Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

Kalvaria, Lithuania. Jewish Cemetery. Concrete Gravestones. Photo: Samuel D. Gruber 2015

Part of this was probably its low cost compared to cut, finished and carved stone, especially expensive stones like marble and granite. Concrete probably was popular especially in those places where transitional local stones - limestone, slate, sandstone were hard to come by. In place like Kalvaria, Lithuania, well designed concrete matzevot may have been an alternative to transitional irregularly shaped field stone markers. A then again, popularity in a single place like Kalvaria, Lithuania, when most of the surviving matzevot are made of concrete, may be due to tha single artisan-manufacturer who championed the method. Elsewhere, more common than in the standing matzevot, was the use of concrete to cover the tops of graves with flat or raised concrete platforms, upon which other stones or decorations might be laid.This was also done in Kalvaria.  Often, in many cemeteries, when the true stone was stolen, only the concrete base remains.  

Discussion of concrete gravestone has probably been neglected for several reasons.  It is a relatively new material, so older and often more picturesque cemeteries do not have examples. As presentations at the conference demonstrated, most scholarship related to Jewish gravestones looks at examples from the pre-modern period. But another reason is that concrete can often only be easily differentiate from stone from close up examination of the examples. Photographs, especially when not close-up details, often make the concrete matzevot look like traditional stone. There are a few give-away signs. Concrete stones seem to date mostly from the 1920s and 1930s (though more examples may expand this range to earlier years). Like bricks and other molded objects, concrete gravestones tend to have few raised features, and usually have consistent thickness and smooth edges.  Decoration is often impressed in patterns from pre-made forms (just like bread-stamps), and so is often repeated on multiple stones. Many broken "stones" at Kalvaria show that iron reinforcement rods were often (always) installed to stiffen the stone which had to stand for years in a upright position. 

Today, metal detectors could be used to ascertain the use of metal inserts.  Corrosion of these through water infiltration can cause deterioration and eventual collapse of the surrounding concrete. Thus, the breakage of many concrete matzevot may be due to natural causes as well as to vandalism.

Concrete was also used in Chridtian burials, and there are many examples in the United States contemporary with those at Kalvaria. Conservationist Stephanie Hoagland, a Senior Associate and Architectural Conservator with Jablonski Building Conservation Inc.,  has written about some of these:
She says that  

"Many of these markers were constructed in the same way as cast stone or a concrete sidewalk would have been laid. A single or multiple layers of concrete were poured in lifts and a slurry coat applied on top, into which the inscription was written. Note the layers clearly visible in the side views of these two markers...If the maker was familiar with concrete or cast stone, they would have been aware that concrete markers such as these require some form of internal reinforcement for strength. Unfortunately, the use of ferrous metal often meant that the marker has been damaged by the very thing added to make it durable. Many of the markers do not meet the minimum depth requirement for reinforcement, which has led to its corrosion. But this damage has provided us with the chance to see the variety of materials used for reinforcement, including bent rods, smooth rods, twisted rods, flat bars, pipes and wires"

See: Jason Church,  "Made from My Own Hand: An Introduction to Concrete Grave Markers" (International Cemetery Preservation Summit, April 8-10, 2014 Niagara Falls, NY.)

Happy 175th Birthday Mark Matveyevich Antokolsky (born November 2, 1840)

 Mark Antokolsky in his Paris Studio

Happy 175th Birthday Mark (Mordkukh) Matveyevich Antokolsky
by Samuel D. Gruber  

Today is the 175th birthday of the Vilnius-born international successful Jewish-Russian sculptor Mark Antokolsky  (2 November 1840 – 14 July 1902) a pioneer Jewish sculptor in the 19th century at a time when very few Jewish artists engaged in the plastic arts. Antokolsky's role in sculpture, and his example, was similar that of academy painters in Western Europe of the general after painter Moritz Daniel Oppenhiem. Antokolsky began with Jewish themes, but embraced Christian and Russian national subjects. 

In his student years he depicted several Jewish character types (Tailor, 1864) and unfinished works on Jewish themes, ("Talmud Dispute" (1866–1868) and "Inquisition Attacks the Jews" (1868–1869). He later created a large seated figure of Spinoza (1881).  

 

Mark Antokolsky, sculptor. Jewish Tailor (1864, in wood) won a small silver medal from the Academy.

His depictions of Jesus are among the first in a series by many artists of a more "Jewish" Christian savior. Jewish-Polish painter Maurycy Gottlieb addressed similar themes about the same time.

In Russia, Antokolsky's fame rested especially on his statues of the tsars Ivan the TYerrible and Peter I. Antokolsky was a mentor to Boris Schatz, who became a court sculptor in Bulgaria before embracing Zionism and founding the Bezalel School in Jerusalem.

 

Mark Antokolsky, sculptor. Spinoza (1881).

Mark Antokolsky, sculptor. Christ before the people (1878). Photo: Alex Bakharev, public domain.

Maurycy Gottlieb, painter. Christ Preaching at Capernaum (1879).

Coincidentally, just this past week I walked on M. Antokolskio g. in the old Jewish quarter of Vilnius, named after the famous native son. The Sculptor died in 1902 and is buried in the Jewish section of the Preobazhenskoye Cemetery in St. Petersburg. There is also an Antokolsky Street in Tel Aviv.

 Vilnius, Lithuania. Today's M. Antokolskio g. and its former appearance when it had a different name. Photos: Samuel D. Gruber, 2015.

Further reading:

Lyubov Golovina, "Mark Antokolsky: " I have done everything I could...", International  Panorama, 3, 2013 (40)

Olga Litvak, "Rome and Jerusalem: The Figure of Jesus in the Creation of Mark Antokolsky," in Barbara Kirshenblatt-Gimblett and Jonathan Karp (eds), The Art of Being Jewish in Modern Times (Philadelphia, University of Pennsylvania Press, 2007) (Jewish Culture and Contexts)