|
|
January 16, 2004/Tevet 22 5764, Vol. 56, No.17
Custom-made chuppot become works of art, family heirlooms
RAHEL MUSLEAH
Special to Jewish News
Before her son Michael's wedding, Elsa Wachs sent invitations to about 50 family members. They weren't invitations to share the upcoming simcha (celebration) - not just yet - but a request to contribute to the chuppah (wedding canopy) she was designing.
"You, our family, are very precious to us," she wrote, "and having a 'piece' of you in our family wedding canopy will mean a great deal to us. I know you are wondering what you can send that will be significant. The answer is quite simple: almost anything! Your offerings are an integral part of our family history."
Not a single person failed to respond. Michael contributed a red plastic elephant-shaped key that opened information boxes at the Philadelphia Zoo, a happy token of his childhood. Diane, his bride-to-be, decided on a necklace Michael had given her. Though Diane's grandfather, a cantor, had died, Diane's mother sent his white pompom-topped hat. Other relatives sent pieces of fur, gloves, even a tallit. Wachs sewed pieces of the mementos onto the antique ivory velvet and lace of the chuppah, creating a family album of sorts.
"I layered textures and symbols, just as people layer our lives with texture and content," says Wachs. In the years since she made it, the heirloom chuppah has graced the weddings of her three sons, her cousin's two children, and other relatives. Constructed in sections, the chuppah will eventually be split among the three sons.
As an artist who lives in Wallingford, Penn., Wachs continues to create chuppot for couples of all denominations who want to beautify their wedding ceremonies. Her chuppah collages have included keys from honeymoon suites, bits of Bermuda shorts, photographs, birth certificates, ships' manifests and postcards. Documents can be scanned onto a computer, then silk-screened or transferred thermographically to the fabric.
Wachs is not alone in her devotion to the growing art of the chuppah. The multi-purpose flower-festooned or blue velvet canopies that used to be provided automatically by synagogues or catering halls have given way to decorative chuppot exquisite in their design and distinctive in their meaning, commissioned both by families and synagogues.
"The chuppah creates a sacred space that envelops the family and the bridal couple in the private space of commitment," explains Laura Kruger, curator of the Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion Museum in New York. Kruger distinguishes between chuppot made for public spaces, that "need a wide embrace to be witness to many different people's tastes," and those that incorporate individual motifs and experiences. Except for the fact that the chuppah is to be open on all sides, no halachic stipulations regulating size, shape or color limit the artists' imaginations.
Reeva Shaffer, a calligrapher and fiber artist in the Washington, D.C., area who has researched the chuppah, says it contains multiple meanings. "It is a sign of God's presence at the wedding and in the home; a gateway to life together; an entrance into the holy covenant of marriage; a shelter representing a new home; a symbol of Abraham and Sarah's welcoming tent." She refers to a midrash describing how God created ten splendid chuppot for the marriage of Adam and Eve (Bereshit Rabbah).
According to "The Encyclopedia of Jewish Symbols," (Jason Aronson, paperback, out of print) edited by Ellen Frankel and Betsy Platkin Teutsch, at the end of the betrothal period in ancient Israel, "a new bride was escorted in a festive procession to the groom's room or tent (the chuppah) where the marriage was consummated." The chuppah also referred to the bridal canopy or the ceremony itself. In Sephardic tradition, the chuppah usually consists of a tallit draped over heads of bride and groom, based on Ruth's words to Boaz: "Spread your robe over your handmaid, for you are a redeeming kinsman." In ancient times this act constituted a formal betrothal. While it symbolizes the "emotional, physical and spiritual transition in the lives of the new couple," the chuppah's frailty mirrors the fragility of peace within the household."
Today, the proliferation of contemporary Judaica artists has increased the popularity of hand-crafted ceremonial wedding art. According to Terry Heller, whose company, Artistic Judaic Promotions, showcases Judaica artists, the traditional and contemporary blend in artwork-from illuminated ketubot - to picture frames, kiddush cups and candlesticks that encase the shards of the broken ceremonial glass. Chuppot, she says, sometimes become the first piece of art in a couple's new home.
"There is a need for beautiful Judaic art with modern interpretation," agrees Shaffer. "That is the concept of hiddur mitzvah" (beautifying a commandment). Shaffer incorporates her skill as a calligrapher into her chuppot, handpainting Hebrew phrases and the names of family members onto silk. Often commissioned by parents, families send back the chuppot to add new names every time another child or relative marries.
Shaffer weaves meaning into her chuppot by using braiding and tallit-like symbols. "We braid our formerly separate lives together to form a whole," she says. The tallit reminds us of the mitzvot and can symbolize the couple's commitment to share a Jewish life; the tzitzit, the fringes on the four corners of the tallit, can act as talismans against evil spirits, she says.
For her own family chuppah, which has been used for two of her four children, Shaffer created a central piece of pink and lavender silk with everyone's names; four other detachable pieces are connected to it. For her daughter's wedding, Shaffer also designed a wedding banner. Instead of placing ribbons on two sides of the aisle, Shaffer handpainted Hebrew and English verses from the Song of Songs in gold onto two 100-foot banners of white China silk.
Many chuppah artists like to use gematria, the correspondence of Hebrew letters and numbers. One popular gematria is 32, which corresponds to "lev," or heart. Wachs, for instance, created a chuppah in which each panel has 32 flowers. The tzitzit also correspond to 32, with eight strands in four corners. "In Ashkenazic tradition the bride gives the groom a tallit, to symbolize the giving of the heart," she explains. Other significant numbers are 18, for life (chai); 7, for completeness, wholeness and luck; and 10, for community (the number of a minyan).
Ita Aber, an artist in New York, combines Ashkenazic and Sephardic symbols-protective and fertility amulets, the hamsa (the Middle Eastern "hand of God"), Egyptian scarabs, turquoise, love birds with red ribbons hanging from their mouths, and all kinds of rings that connote binding two people together. For a chuppah that is now in the Smithsonian Institute, she embroidered hearts in each corner, but the design is based on four conjoined horns of an ancient altar at Megiddo that form the shape of a heart when put together. "The hearts represent both love and sanctity," she notes.
Artists Margery and Eli Langner of Lynbrook, N.Y., used gematria and symbolism in the first chuppah they designed almost 15 years ago: their own. The 8-foot-round chuppah featured two hands holding one flame each, and a larger flame in the center. The concept concretized a quote from the Baal Shem Tov: Each person has a light going from their soul to heaven. When two people meet who are destined to be together, their flames unite, kindling an even greater light. The chuppah, vibrant in red, blue, purple, orange, green and gold, is encircled by 32 flames, reflecting the "passion and fire in a relationship that burns away negativity," says Langner.
The Langners call their company Original Design Huppah, and have now made hundreds of chuppot in applique and embroidery for clients who range from Orthodox to Reform. The most popular phrase is still "Ani l'dodi v'dodi li (I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine). "Each couple thinks it's been written just for them," smiles Margery. "That challenges me to do something new with it each time. I can incorporate it into the design, change the style of the calligraphy or composition, or use the words to form a shape, like wine flowing from a kiddush cup." Langner says no single popular symbol exists: "I've done everything from doves to Grateful Dead bears."
To personalize chuppot, most artists question the couple about their relationship, family, professions, goals, likes and dislikes, and what they envision for their wedding. "It gives me a tremendous feeling of warmth to be involved in the budding of a couple's hopes for their future," says Langner. "My couples come back for brit pillows and bar mitzvah tallitot. One family said, 'the first thing we do is call the rabbi, then get the hall, then call you to make the chuppah.' I like being part of their family."
Corinne Soikin Timor, a painter in Wainscott, N.Y., dreamed of making chuppot-literally. Eighteen years ago she dreamed that she had painted a cloth and hung it from four trees in a garden after it had snowed. The light and color reflected on the snow and created a sacred space. She realized she had dreamed of a chuppah.
"The Talmud tells us the chuppah represents divine light," she explains. "Just as the chuppah covers the bridal couple, so this light surrounds all creation. It is the light of wisdom and the root of all existence."
Her role, she says, is akin to that of an architect, because the chuppah is a symbol of the home the couple will build together. To create the most appropriate color palette, she asks couples to cut color squares from a magazine. "Some people like vibrant jewel colors and some pastel tones. I can learn as much from what you leave out as what you include," she writes in a questionnaire to clients. She also asks for a photograph of the couple. "I like to have this on my drawing board when I am working on the design," she says. Her work can be found at www.chuppah.com.
Adina Gatt, an Israeli artist, ornaments her chuppot with flowers, fruit and geometric patterns in felt, satin or taffeta appliqué. She doesn't use traditional symbols like the Magen David or family memorabilia, except on rare occasions. "Love, beauty and joy are my concepts," Gatt says. Once, however, she incorporated an orange into the symbolism because the family survived the Holocaust; one relative remembered getting an orange from American soldiers when the camps were liberated.
Family heirlooms like the chuppah are vital, she explains, because years after the Holocaust, people again believe in continuity. "The chuppah," she says, "will go from generation to generation."
|
