Jewish
and
Safe
by Marilyn Price
My Romanian and Russian ancestors found sanctuary and safety when they arrived in this country at the turn of the last century. They landed at Ellis Island to pursue the dream and the goal of a better life, but mostly a safe life away from the oppressions and the limitations of their native homelands. I can’t begin to imagine the terror and excitement they felt as they traveled over that endless body of water with limited comforts to a place where they knew few and did not know the language.
It was a good choice for them and of course subsequently for their descendants. So many stories exist about all that this immigrant generation fought to succeed and care for their young. Mine is just one of many. But the story of my grandma Elisheva and my grandpas Dovid and Alex, fills me with pride. They did not become wealthy or famous nor did they strive to be. But they succeeded in their dream of safety - of sanctuary - and nestled in the communities of Chicago.
Recently Roger and I went to New York City for pleasure and work and to see the Amedeo Modigliani show at the Jewish Museum. It is hard to project in writing how I felt watching over 165 of his works, sketches, sculpture and other formally unseen pieces gathered together. Even if you are not aware of his work, his story is rich in Judaica and the artist experience. He was a rabble rouser, a rebel and darkly good looking. He was an Italian Sephardic Jew with a French mother and a classical education. When he moved to Paris, he came up against the idea of racial purity in French culture. In the new century, nationalism was on the rise, and the call to purge France of foreign influence was widespread. No artistic group represented “impurity” more than the city’s immigrants – notably the Jewish artists of Montparnasse. He refused to assimilate and introduced himself with these words, “My name is Modigliani. I am Jewish.”
At the end of his life at 36, two friends tried to create a life mask of him, but it cracked. Another close friend, Jacques Lipchitz, salvaged the mask, produced several plaster casts and eventually a bronze sculpture.
In this connecting world of sanctuary, another story in 1940 took place in France where a group of artists were trapped by the Nazis unable to do art or to leave France. Enter Varian Fry and a wonderful story of salvation and sanctuary.
After hearing of the plight of the French Jewish artists at a meeting in New York, the non-Jew Varian Fry decided he would try to convince the French embassy that they had to release the 2000 - 4000 Jews, including a large number of artists including poets, painters and writers. It was no use. He packed up a shirt and overnight bag and went to France to continue this fight. Gathering a handful of people and only $3000 he began his mission. They hid some 2200 people at the Villa Bel-Air until they could be smuggled out across the border to Spain and then Portugal from where they made their way to the United States. It is a good read in a book called Assignment Rescue.
Among those rescued were artists such as Jacques Lipchitz, Marc Chagall, Andre Breton and a list too overwhelming and powerful and artistically relevant to ever imagine. For his blessed work, Fry was finally awarded the Legion of Honor in 1967 by the government of France.
Sanctuary is an interesting word. It’s defined as a place of safety or refuge. A haven, harbor, port in a storm, oasis, shelter, retreat, hideaway, hideout. More than all fit in my vision of what it means today like the room we gather to pray in a sanctuary. My grandparents sought shelter and landed in the harbor of this great country. Varian Fry created a hideout and shelter and an oasis in a storm of terror that led to the same goal. And Amadeo Modigliani felt secure enough to say, “My name is Modigliani. I am Jewish.”
In honor of those who stood before me, and on whose shoulders I stand, I can say:
“My name is Marilyn Price. I am Jewish and I am safe.”
If you’d like to share your thoughts with the congregation on what sanctuary means to you - a time in which you felt like a sanctuary dwelled within you, or how we can extend sanctuary to those who need it, feel free to reach out to
Ellen Blum Barish
and
David Barish
.
