The Etrog Citron in Art

Abstract

This chapter describes the diverse representations of the etrog (pl. etrogim) in Jewish art from its first known appearance until modern times. Its earliest artistic appearance was on coins minted during the time of the first Jewish revolt (67–70 CE) when the second Temple was still standing. The etrog fruit’s shape is not the same on all of them. From the middle of the third century CE to the end of the Byzantine rule, the etrog is included in every artistic medium in the Land of Israel and the Diaspora: architectural elements, mosaics, wall paintings, funerary inscriptions, and household items. It is found everywhere in the Roman Empire from Dura europos to Rome and Cologne. In the Middle Ages, we see that in Ashkenazi illuminated manuscripts, the etrog is represented as one of the “four species” in connection with the Sukkot (Feast of Tabernacle) rituals. In Sephardi illuminated manuscripts, there is no sign of the “four species” whatsoever. In the modern era, we see the etrog in the hands of men in scenes from Jewish life. During all these periods and with the use of various media, there are a number of ways in which the etrog has been described: with or without a “pitam,” with or without a “gartel” (belt). The conclusion is that one indeed cannot learn from art which form of the etrog was particularly prized by earlier generations of observant Jews.

1 Introduction

This chapter examines the place of the etrog in art. Here, I will attempt to establish whether the etrog appears only in Jewish art, when such representations began, and if these representations reflect what we know of the etrog’s related halakhot (Jewish law). I will explore possible variations in its appearance during different periods, different places where it is represented, and its probable perceived significance.

The etrog is native to Southeast Asia, but to the best of my knowledge does not appear there in art; rather, it is found in the context of mythology. In China, the unique etrog split into “many fingers” is known as “Buddha’s hand,” perhaps indicating the benevolent influence of the abundant fingers. In contrast, the etrog appears centrally at the very inception of Jewish art as one of the four species of the Sukkot festival, and during a certain period was selected to be the “fruit of the hadar tree.”¹

The etrog’s place in Jewish art evolved over the course of its 2,000 years of representation. In ancient Jewish art, it appeared both on its own and as a part of the four species which symbolize the Sukkot festival, with its symbolic and messianic significance.² Beginning in the Middle Ages and up to the present day, a change occurred in the way the etrog was displayed in Jewish art, and it was almost always depicted in Ashkenazi art as part of the four species grasped in one’s hand—clearly in the context of the Sukkot festival, but without the symbolic meanings associated with it in antiquity and the Byzantine era.

Of the dozens of artistic works I found depicting the etrog, I will present here lesser-known works, selected primarily for their iconographic (symbolic-visual) value. A few were chosen to demonstrate the variety of the etrog’s depictions, and others to indicate its place in the culture and state of Jewish and Christian society at different periods, each with its characteristic style and medium.

2 The Etrog in Jewish Art in Antiquity and the Byzantine Period

The earliest findings of Jewish art date primarily to the end of the Second Temple period.³ The majority of the relics are architectural from Herod’s era. The few mosaics that survived from this period represent  geometric and vegetal designs, and none feature a representation of the etrog or any other Jewish symbol.⁴ The etrog is first found on coins from the fourth year of the Jewish revolt against the Romans (69–71 CE) with a prominent pitam and clefts along its length (Fig. 15.1).⁵

Fig. 15.1

Bronze half shekel first revolt against the Romans. Photo: B. Narkis Index of Jewish Art, curtesy of the Center of Jewish Art in the Hebrew University, Jerusalem

The etrog also appeared on one side of the coins of the Bar-Kokhba revolt (132–135 CE) with the façade of the Temple on the other alongside an inscription: “For the Liberation of Jerusalem.” On these coins, the pitam is not prominent and there is a narrowing at the middle of the fruit, a kind of belt, like those found on certain etrogim nowadays (Fig. 15.2).⁶

Fig. 15.2

Silver Sela–Tetradrama, Bar-Kokhba revolt. Photo: B. Narkis Index of Jewish Art, curtesy of the Center of Jewish Art in the Hebrew University, Jerusalem

Impressing the etrog on coins from the first revolt, while the Temple still stood, expressed the yearning to renew worship in the Temple from a place of liberty, while the coins from the days of Bar-Kokhba expressed the aspiration to rebuild the Temple anew.⁷ Additionally, the festival of Sukkot is linked by the prophet Zecharia, to the end of days when all nations will ascend to the Temple (Zech. 14:15–20).

This assumption is strengthened by the fact that the blessing over the four species is recited throughout the seven days of the holiday in any location, not only in the Temple. This is one of a few rulings established by R. Yohanan ben Zakkai meant to evoke the Temple and worship in it after its destruction, as stated in M. Rosh HaShanah, 4:3.

At first, during the Temple era, the lulav was taken in the Temple in Jerusalem all seven days of Sukkot, and in the rest of the country it was taken only on one day, on the first day of the Festival. After the Temple was destroyed, R. Yoḥanan ben Zakkai instituted that the lulav should be taken even in the rest of the country all seven days in commemoration of the Temple.

Further evidence for the idea that the four species served at this time as an eschatological symbol (that is, connected to the belief in the world to come) is the fact that etrog adornments were found on other small items such as earthenware candles from the Bar-Kokhba period found in tombs and other hiding places. As with the coins, on the earthenware lamps we usually find the etrog positioned next to the lulav (palm-tree branch), and sometimes on its own. On a magnificent clay lamp with three openings from the days of Bar-Kokhba, we find a binding of the lulav, the myrtle, and the willow wrapped in a string, and beside them an etrog with a pitam and vertical clefts. Here again, we see a combination of the four species with the façade of the Temple, which resembles its appearance on the coins of that same period (Fig. 15.3).⁸

Fig. 15.3

Clay lamp. Photo: curtesy of the Center of Jewish Art in the Hebrew University, Jerusalem

From the middle of the third century CE, in the combination of different motifs there is a resemblance between art from the Land of Israel and Jewish art in the Diaspora. Among the wall paintings of the synagogue in Dura Europos, Syria, from 245 CE, we find above the Torah niche an etrog alongside a lulav, a menorah, and the façade of the Temple (Fig. 15.4).

Fig. 15.4

Wall painting above Tora niche in the Dura Europos ‘synagogue, before 245 CE. Photo: Public domain https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File

The etrog here is conspicuous in its unique spherical shape, a shape disqualifying it for etrogim according to BT Sukkah, 31a. Here we find the first complete combination of the four species alongside the seven-branched menorah and the Temple façade. This arrangement reappears for 400 years in synagogue mosaics in the Land of Israel. Thus, from about the same period—the third and fourth century CE—we find the same formula in Rome on Jewish gold glasses and wall paintings in Jewish catacombs (Fig. 15.5).

Fig. 15.5

Gold glass base (fourth century). Photo: courtesy of Dr. David and Yemima Jeselsohn, Swiss. Long-term loan to Israel Museum, Jerusalem

The etrogim depicted in Rome are larger and different from those in the Land of Israel, with bumps on their surfaces, and there are always leaves attached to the wide tip, while at the narrow tip there is often an allusion to a pitam, but without a “belt.”⁹

Beginning in the fourth century CE, various combinations of the etrog on its own or as a part of the four species alongside other symbols/objects such as the menorah, an architectural facade, shofar, and coal pan were found in synagogue mosaics in the Land of Israel. The earliest known synagogue mosaic is found at the synagogue of Hamat Tiberias from the fourth century, known as Severus’ Synagogue. Here, the etrogim are joined with the lulav, the myrtle, and the willow, and their shape resembles the shape of the etrogim shown in Rome including surface bumps.¹⁰

Further evidence of the eschatological significance of the four species can be found from that same period in a burial inscription from the Necropolis of Zoar in the Transjordan. These inscriptions, written primarily in Aramaic and Greek, are unique in including the calculated date, which is the year of the destruction of the Temple.¹¹ We know from the literature of the messianic hopes of the Jews during the fourth century, with Julian’s plan to rebuild the Temple in 363 CE at its zenith.¹² Despite this divergence between the inscription in Zoar and those of Rome and the Land of Israel, their resemblance lies in the fact that they all feature the menorah and the four species (generally only the lulav) painted in simple lines and with iconography similar to the one in Rome.¹³

In the mosaic of the Tzippori synagogue from the fifth century, we find two bunches of the four species, and among them there are two different etrogim. In one grouping, the etrog is bound with the lulav, the willows, and the myrtles, and in the second it appears on its own. The etrog bound with the lulav has a narrowing resembling a belt, and its broad section has a stipe with leaves. Furthermore, the method of binding the four species is different from the method typically prescribed by halakha, and they are placed in a copper vessel as the four species are represented in Rome (Fig. 15.6).¹⁴

Fig. 15.6

Mosaic in the synagogue of Tzippori, (fifth century). Photo Courtesy of Prof. Zeev Weiss

This shape is not found in art of the Land of Israel, seemingly because it contradicts R. Judah’s statement in the Mishnah: “One may bind the lulav only with its own species.” The manner of this binding can be interpreted according to M. Sukkah 3:8: “Even with a string with a cord. Rabbi Meir said: An incident involving the men of Jerusalem who would bind their lulavim with gold rings.”¹⁵

In the mosaic of the Ma’on (Nirim) synagogue from the sixth century, the etrogim are more central than the other four species. These etrogim are large and prominent alongside the big menorah, while the four species ensemble is represented in smaller dimensions above one of the etrogim. Additionally, the “belts” of both etrogim are notably accentuated by different colors of the tesserae (mosaic stones) (Fig. 15.7).

Fig. 15.7

Mosaic in the synagogue of Ma’on (Nirim), (sixth century). Photo: Z. Radovan. The Israel Antiquities Authority

Moreover, while the stipe is prominent the pitam is not discernable. The majority of the etrogim look similar in the synagogues, whether separate from the lulav as in the Hulda synagogue from the fifth century, or whether they are bound together as in the Bet Alpha synagogue of the sixth century. A lone etrog is found in the mosaic of the synagogue near Ma’oz Hayyim in a medallion in a frame which includes additional motifs such as the menorah and grape cluster. This etrog has a stipe, a “belt,” and probably also a pitam, and it takes up considerable space in the frame (Fig. 15.8).

Fig. 15.8

Etrog in the mosaic of Maoz Hayyim synagogue, (sixth century). Photo: Curtesy of Bitmuna collection, A. Jacoby’s album

There are additional instances in which the etrog takes a different shape than its typical representation. Thus, in the sixth-century synagogue at Husifa (Isifiya), the shape of the etrog resembles that of a peach, but the stipe is visible. It is impossible to know if the pitam was represented as well since this part of the mosaic was not preserved. Another atypical depiction is found in an ornament of a dedication inscription in the northern synagogue of Tiberius, also from the sixth century. Here the etrog has an egg shape and horizontal stripes, details apparently intended to emphasize its round shape and not because it had stripes. It appears that there is also a visual reference to a stipe, and the etrog is placed alongside a lulav to which many myrtles are tied with ropes. In select mosaics, the four species are not found at all, with most of these identified as belonging to Samaritan synagogues. This is not surprising considering that the Samaritans do not take the four species as do the Jews, but rather decorate the sukkah with different species including various citrus fruits and palm fronds.¹⁶

In other regions in Israel, we find the etrog on reliefs of stone screens in synagogue ruins. A screen like this from the sixth century was found in Ashkelon, alongside a menorah, shofar, and lulav on one side of the screen, and part of the etrog on the other side of the screen. Because the etrog was only partially preserved, it is impossible to know its shape.¹⁷ Similarly, the etrog appears on a stone screen from Corinth, found in digs dating from the fourth to the sixth centuries CE, alongside three menorahs. The four species are rendered on both sides of the middle menorah, and the etrog is tied by its stipe to the lulav.¹⁸

3 The Etrog in Christian Art in the Land of Israel

The appearance of the etrog in Jewish art as one of the four species or on its own is understandable within the context of the festival of Sukkot as a symbol for the Temple. In contrast, the depiction of the etrog as an individual fruit in the majority of the Christian mosaics in the Land of Israel during the Byzantine era is surprising. In these mosaics, an etrog or two are found generally in populated geometric or plant frames alongside other fruit, but sometimes also in more central places. Among others etrogim are found in the geometric frame in the mosaic remains of the Church of the Martir at Tel Eztaba in Beth Shean.¹⁹ These etrogim do not have pitams, but have a narrowing at their center, and the stipes are visible as are the attached leaves. In a line of geometric medallions covering the floor mosaic of the church at Kursi on the Sea of Galilee from 585 CE, etrogim are represented among the fruit, flowers, and animals (Fig. 15.9).

Fig. 15.9

Etrog in the mosaic of the church of Kursi. (585) Photo: author

In them, one can make out a clear protrusion that perhaps represents a pitam, a distinct “belt,” and a stipe with a pair of leaves.²⁰ Additionally, there are mosaics with depictions of fruit trees, including etrogim, usually alongside animals. In the mosaic from the Byzantine palace in Caesarea from the sixth century, most of the mosaic is a large carpet of round medallions with different birds. In the frame, there are depictions of wild animals among various fruit trees, including an etrog tree (Fig. 15.10).

Fig. 15.10

Etrog tree in the Birds Mosaic in Cesarea, (sixth century). Photo: author

The fact that in Caesarea we find an etrog tree and not the etrog fruit alone may serve as evidence that etrogim were grown in the area during that time, and that perhaps there was an etrog orchard owned by the proprietor of the estate who commissioned the mosaic. On finding etrogim in Caesarea, we can look to the Tosefta (Dmai 3:14), where it is recounted that “R. Yosse sent to Rabbi a large etrog from Tzippori and said ‘this etrog came to me from Caesarea.’

4 Etrogim in Mosaics of the Transjordan

Interestingly, the etrog is also found in many mosaics in churches in the Transjordan, especially in the frames of the mosaics. An example of this can be found in the Presbytery mosaic frame in the Lion Church of Umm-al-Rasas (south of Amman). There we find depictions of lions among fruit trees below the apsis, framed in birds and various fruits including an etrog beside a curved knife (Fig. 15.11).²¹

Fig. 15.11

Etrog with a curved knife. Church of the Lions, Umm-al-Rasas, (sixth century). Photo: after Piccirillo, (1993). With the permission of the Studium Biblicum Franciscanum in Jerusalem

A straight knife can be seen in the medallion frame of the Church of Deacon Thomas in Uyun Musa north of Mt. Nebo from the sixth century.²² Etrogim are also found in conspicuous places in churches, and at the center of the mosaic carpet. For example, at the northern side of the Apostles Church in Madaba from 587 CE, there are two small mosaic panels in which two large etrogim can be seen.²³

5 The Place of the Etrog in Byzantine Art

The abundance of etrogim in Byzantine mosaics raises a question regarding the curved or straight knife often found next to them. It appears that the etrog was known in ancient times to have many unique qualities, and was therefore an important tree and fruit. Already, Theophrastus (1961, IV:42) described the tree as evergreen, its flowers and reproductive organs large and fragrant. It blooms while still carrying the fruit of the previous season thus making it fruitful twice a year. It would seem that there were also edible varieties as described in the words of M. Sukkah 4:7: “Immediately children remove their lulavim and eat their etrogim.”

The Babylonian Talmud also relates that the King of Persia, Shapur, offered his Jewish guests an etrog, slicing it with a knife before serving it: “Like [that incident] involving Mar Yehuda and Bati bar Tuvi, who were sitting before King Shapur, [they] brought an etrog before them. [The king] cut and ate, cut and gave to Bati bar Tuvi” (BT. Avoda Zara), 76b. Also in Midrash Tanhuma, Genesis Vayeshev 5, we find a story of an etrog eaten with a knife:

Our sages inform us that on one occasion Potiphar’s wife assembled a number of Egyptian women so that they might see how very handsome Joseph was. But before she summoned Joseph she gave each of them an etrog and a knife. When they saw Joseph’s handsome countenance, they cut their hands. She said to them: “If this can happen to you, who see him only once, how much more so does it happen to me, who must look at him constantly.”

These midrashim and a handful of halakhot connected to the etrog suggest that the etrog was considered a distinguished fruit, fit for a king’s table. It seems also that it was necessary to use a knife to eat it (in mosaics other fruits, such as the watermelon, are also accompanied occasionally by a knife). The etrog rendered alongside a knife belongs to the group of art works, mostly in mosaics, named xenia (hospitality in Greek) that were prevalent already from the Classical period.²⁴

In the Hellenistic source, there are descriptions of delicacies that were offered to guests who were invited to feast, and which indicate the wealth of the host, his generosity, and the honor he granted his guests. In these descriptions, there are presentations of exotic fruit and vegetables, meat, and fish dishes. Such mosaics are found in Israel from as early as the first century CE, and they are prevalent also in churches of North Africa.²⁵

6 The Etrog in Muslim Era Art

Since the Muslim era, from around the middle of the seventh century, we no longer find Jewish mosaic art in the Land of Israel, while Christian mosaics are still found in the eighth century, especially in the Transjordan. During that same century, a magnificent palace was constructed around Jericho, at Khirbat al-Mafjar, decorated with many mosaics. All the mosaics are made up of geometric patterns, aside from the Diwan mosaic which is figurative. In it, there is a large and highly stylized etrog with a knife beside it.²⁶ The etrog is connected to a small branch with leaves and features two “belts” much like the etrogim from the Ma’on synagogue (Nirim).

From that same period, a handful of illuminated manuscript fragments were preserved in the Eastern Byzant and the Latin West. While Christian art continues to exist and is even preserved to a small extent, there is a gap in Jewish art of about 600 years between the mosaics and the illuminated manuscripts of Sepharad and Ashkenaz in which etrogim are found.²⁷ This is a “dark” period in Jewish art in general, and the manuscripts known to us are lone remnants in the sense of a “burning stick snatched from the fire,” which were saved probably thanks to being small and transportable when the Jews were persecuted by clergy and individuals. Beginning at the end of the thirteenth century, we find Jewish manuscripts that are divided between Ashkenazi and Sephardi.

7 Etrog Illustrations in Ashkenazi Manuscripts

Since the Middle Ages, the etrog is depicted, especially in Ashkenazi mahzorim (holiday prayer books), as one of the four species held by a man.²⁸ The earliest Jewish manuscript that depicts the etrog is probably Mahzor Laud from southern Germany around 1290. At the head of the page with the poem for the “eighth” day of Sukkot when rain is prayed for, there is an illustration of two figures on either side of the opening word.²⁹ On the right side there is an illustration of a winged animal. The left side features a person grasping a lulav and three myrtle branches (apparently without willows) with his right hand, while his left presses a long, large, smooth etrog to his chest. In addition to the unique shape of the four species which do not seem to be accurate representations, the head of the man is that of a dog and not the face of a man.³⁰

It appears that the illustrator was himself not familiar with the four species and that they were only described to him. In contrast, the illustration of the myrtles is more faithful to reality, as it is a known plant in Europe and is called myrte in German (Fig. 15.12). In the Leipzig Mahzor from 1320, there is a depiction of a man wearing a pointed Jewish hat on the right margins of the page in which the Yotzer prayer for the first day of the Sukkot festival appears.³¹ With his left hand, he grasps various branches which apparently represent the lulav, the myrtle, and the willow, and with his right he presents the etrog which has a protrusion on its tip, but no pitam. Neither the lulav and the accompanying branches nor the etrog look like the four species.

Fig. 15.12

Illustration in Mahzor Laud, (1290). MS. Laud. Or. 321. Photo: With the permission of Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford

It appears that here too the artist only heard a description of them and drew them according to his understanding. The etrog looks more like a lemon and it has a yellow protrusion connected to the body of the fruit, unlike a pitam which could drop off the fruit because of its separateness. In an Ashkenazi mahzor from around Lake Constance in southern Germany dating to 1300–1324, an etrog appears at the margins of the page containing the prayer of “Hosha’-na” recited during the festival of Sukkot. One gets the impression that the etrog is held upside down, that is, that the stipe is facing upwards. This is how the etrog is held while reciting the blessing, and it is only subsequently turned so that the pitam faces upwards. This may have been the intention of the illustration.³²

In the manuscript of a text that discusses the halakhot of Sukkot from 1374 Perugia, the top section of the page contains an illustration of a sukkah completely adorned with branches. Beneath the sukkah in the right margin there is a depiction of a man holding a lulav bound in a red string in his right hand, as well as myrtle and willow, and in his left an etrog with a protruding pitam at its head (Fig. 15.13).³³

Fig. 15.13

Isaiah of Trani II. Illustration in. Decisions, (Perugia, 1374). BL-Or.Ms.5024-fol.70v Photo: British Library, GB-United Kingdom

About 150 years later, in a mahzor dated to 1470, we find an illustration in the left margins of a page containing rulings for the festival of Sukkot.³⁴ In the illustration, a man is seen bringing the four species to his wife and children, who reach out their hands to receive and bless them, as is the Ashkenazi custom (Fig. 15.14).

Fig. 15.14

Illustration in Weil-Jeselson Mahzor, (formerly the NL Rothschild Mahzor). Italy, ca. 1470. Photo: courtesy Dr. David and Yemima Jeselsohn, Swiss, on long term loan to the National Library of Israel in Jerusalem, Heb. 80 4450

Because the etrog is grasped in his hand, only the top section in which the pitam protrudes is visible, and it is therefore impossible to see if it has a stipe. The lulav appears to be wrapped in a red string (as in the illustration of the page of halakhot from Perugia mentioned above). At the base of the lulav, there is a lump of green which are the myrtles and willows, but their binding is indiscernible. The bundle that surrounds the entire lulav appears to contain a large number of myrtle branches, as is found in some of the Byzantine mosaics and as is the Yemenite custom to this day.³⁵ Similar illustrations are found in additional Jewish manuscripts.

8 The Etrog in Christian Renaissance Paintings

Citrus fruit trees, including etrog trees, appear in Christian renaissance paintings which depict figures from the Bible or Old Testament. The etrog tree, which did not grow in northern lands during that time, apparently symbolized the landscape of the Land of Israel as imagined by the artists. An example of this can be seen in “The Binding of Isaac” by Andrea Mantegna from 1492, which, in its foreground, contains a detailed illustration of an etrog tree behind Isaac’s head, while the thicket from which the deer is peeking out is blurry.

This is similar to “The Virgin and Child with Saint Anne” by Gerolamo dai Libri (1510–1515), where a large, detailed etrog tree can be seen behind the figures. Here too the etrog has a protrusion on its sharpened tip, but it does not look like a pitam.³⁶ In certain places, it is possible to also see depictions of the etrog in Christian art, such as the Tree of Knowledge. This is not surprising as according to the Midrash in Genesis Rabbah 15:7, the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge was an etrog.³⁷ Thus, in the painting by Van Eyck from 1432, at the base of the altar in the Ghent Cathedral, Adam and Eve are depicted with Eve holding an etrog in her hand. This depiction was likely influenced by the words of the traveler Tietmar from 1217: “In this place (Jericho and the surroundings) grow fruit trees and their fruit are called ‘Adam's Fruit,’ and they have the conspicuous markings of man’s bite. This is the species of the etrog (Citrus medica).”³⁸

The etrogim were brought mainly by Jewish merchants from the inland of Mediterranean countries, generally Italy and Spain. Thus, the etrog became a fruit typical and unique to the Jewish people. The most detailed and precise drawing of the etrog appears in the botanical book by Christoph Volkamer from 1708. In this book, Volkamer described all the types of fruits from the family of Rutaceae that grew in the gardens of Nuremberg, including the etrog called Cedro col Pigolo, which means “the etrog with the pitam.” According to Volkamer, it can also be called “The Jewish Etrog” because it is mostly found in Jewish uses of the four species.

Even before Volkamer we find illustrations in books that described Jewish customs. These books were written and illustrated by Christians (including converts); some are polemical and others objective. These books began to appear in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and no fewer than five appeared from the beginning to the middle of the eighteenth century.³⁹ Among these illustrations, there is an interesting one of a Jew holding the four species while he is wrapped in his tallit (prayer shawl). The etrog in his hand, as well as an additional large etrog drawn on the side, have a strange pitam, resembling a “crown” of the pomegranate with three “horns.”⁴⁰

In another illustration from the convert Kirchner’s book, various unrelated customs are depicted (Fig. 15.15).

Fig. 15.15

Illustrations in P.I C. Kirchner, Jüdische Ceremoniel (1724) p. 226. Photo: curtesy Leo Beack Library collection

In the right corner, we find a halitza shoe, a lulav, and an etrog. The etrog is represented in a way called “Adam’s bite” (as mentioned above).⁴¹ Thus, through the eyes of Christians we see how between the fifteenth and eighteenth centuries the etrog was prevalent among Jews. With the advent of printing in Europe, Jewish art was mainly expressed in illustrating Hebrew books, which were made with simple wood etchings. Later, Passover haggadot were printed in Holland where copper etchings were developed, enabling much more sophisticated illustrations.

9 The Etrog in Works by Jewish Artists in the Modern Era

In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, synagogues in eastern and central Europe were decorated with murals and reliefs of various plants and animals.⁴² Moreover, portraits of rabbis were made, but I did not find a depiction of any of them holding an etrog. From the middle of the eighteenth century, some well-connected Jews succeeded in obtaining education at art institutions of Europe, but many converted to Christianity to gain positions in museums and therefore did not deal with Jewish art. Beginning in the nineteenth century, Jewish artists started dealing also with Jewish subjects. First among them were the artists Solomon Hart (1806–1881) in England, the first Jewish member of the Royal Academy in London, and the better-known Moritz Oppenheim from Germany (1800–1882).⁴³

From the next generation, we know of a 1905 portrait by the artist Isidor Kaufmann (1854–1921), which depicts a youth holding the four species in his left hand while his right hand clutches the edge of his tallit. The etrog in his hand is yellow and without a pitam, but there is a clear distinction between the myrtles and willows. Leopold Pilichowski (1869–1934) belongs to that same group of artists, depicting Jewish life in Poland in his paintings. Most of his works can be found at the National Museum of Krakow. One of his paintings is housed at the Jewish Museum of New York, and it depicts Jews in the synagogue during Sukkot. In this painting, one of them is shown proudly holding his especially beautiful etrog with a pitam and a stipe (Fig. 15.16).⁴⁴

Fig. 15.16

“Sukkot” painting, L. Pilichowski (1869-1934). Photo: curtesy of The Jewish Museum of New York

Marc Chagall (1887–1985) painted, as is known, many paintings of his birth town Vitebsk, to which he returned in 1914 after a sojourn in Paris. During that same year, he painted his famous work, “Feast Day” (Rabbi with Lemon). In this painting, a Jew stands at the opening of an unmarked building, wrapped in a tallit. On his head, there is a small, inverted figure of himself. The man holds the etrog with only two fingers—not in the acceptable manner for the blessing. The lulav with the myrtles and without the willows are placed on his fully extended hand so that the lulav looks as if it is floating before the man’s body. The entire painting, as with many of Chagall’s works, is not realistic in its details. Upon further inspection, it is clear that there is no intention here of a realistic depiction, but rather something between fantastic-dreamy vision and reality, in classic Chagall style (Fig. 15.17).

Fig. 15.17

“Feast Day” (Rabbi with Lemon) painting, M. Chagall (1914). Photo: WikiArt.org‏ (Public domain US).

Other Jewish artists have depicted Jewish life in a realistic style up to the present day. In all of these paintings, the four species are nearly as important as the man holding them. An emotional painting that emphasizes the focus of a person concentrated in his prayer, and not the four species, is “In Prayer During the Feast of the Tabernacles” by Paula Gans from Prague (1883–1941), painted in 1920.⁴⁵ This painting depicts an old, bearded Jew deep in prayer, holding an etrog and lulav with myrtles and willows in his right hand. The etrog is held upside-down, the stipe is on top, and the pinky finger hides the other end so that it is not possible to see if the etrog has a pitam.

Contemporary Israeli artist Nechama Shaish also painted a Jew blessing the four species, eyes closed devotionally. In her painting, he holds them carefully with the tip of the etrog displayed upwards, but it is unclear if it has a real pitam. The lulav and the branches of the myrtle and willow, and the small basket connecting them in one binding, are depicted precisely according to contemporary Ashkenazi custom. Chezi Green, a Jewish artist from New York, who defines himself as an expressionist, painted a Jew holding an etrog with a clear and distinct pitam as though astonished by it, and he is not grasping the lulav with the myrtles and willows, so that in their absence the importance of the etrog is felt.

10 A Box for the Etrog

From the end of the seventeenth century, we also know of special boxes for preserving etrogim. Most of the boxes were not intended initially for preserving the etrogim, but were taken for this purpose because of their appropriate shape. Moreover, of the boxes intended for this purpose, few are shaped like an etrog. The oldest box shaped like an etrog that I found is from Augsburg and dates to approximately 1670. It is made of gold-covered silver, and is housed at the Jewish Museum of New York (Fig. 15.18).

Fig. 15.18

Etrog box, gold-covered silver, Augsburg, Germany (1670-1680) Photo: curtesy of The Jewish Museum of New York

11 Conclusion

In this review, we can see that the etrog appeared in Jewish art in its various and diverse depictions, and served as a symbol for the Temple because of its connection to the worship held at first primarily in the Temple. It became a common symbol in ancient and Byzantine Jewish art, secondary in its prevalence only to the menorah. It appears on coins, burial inscriptions, mosaic floors, and on walls and pillars of synagogues in Israel and the Diaspora.

In Sephardi manuscripts from the Middle Ages, we no longer find the four species among the Temple objects, and the symbolism of the four species is exchanged with Aaron’s dry branch and blooming branch. In contrast, in Ashkenazi manuscripts from the Middle Ages until the present day, the etrog is presented always in a man’s hand as an illustration for a text connected to the festival of Sukkot—whether a text of prayer or a text of customs and rulings.

The etrog appears in a variety of ways on ancient coins, and it is therefore difficult to establish whether during certain periods importance was placed on its shape: Rounded or belted, with a pitam or without. Only from the debates of the sages do we understand how important these details are, and perhaps also from the nineteenth-century paintings where the pitam is emphasized.