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The Rabbi Who Tricked Stalin

Page 10

by Mordechai Landsberg

A week before the couples’ discussion about Rabbi Aaron’s matter, the police of Minsk confiscated a cellar store in the Moscowsky street. Its owner confidentially sold two fake paintings of famous painter Vrubel. The purchaser was no other than Elya Ruhin himself, but he did not know that the paintings were not originals… At that time he was in a process of improving his flat’s internal shape – according to Natalya’s taste, that ‘obliged’ him to put there some artistic worthy paintings.

  “You are now an important figure in the Minsk public life, “ she told him, “so, if you invite some comrades for a private dinner, the internal shape of this apartment sould have a nicer manner: not white bare walls, though I like better the beige color. . .Next week you’ll receive here visitors, who will celebrate your nomination as Deputy secretary of the party in Minsk. You need here a nice place to host them, to let them feel like important guests.”

  Elya was clever enough, to take a train to Saint Peterburg - with one of the paintings that he had bought. He arrived in the kingsly museum Hermitage, and showed the picture to the Director, who checked it and said: “It’s hundred percents fake. It is not reasonable that Vrubel, who had painted famous ‘Pan’- was the painter of this. I don’t believe what you claim, that a Tsarist Nobleman had hidden this trash in a cellar of his countryside estate...”

  “Look how artistically shaped is the frame.” said Elya, “perhaps this is worth something?”

  The answer was: “Yes, that’s from the nineteenth century. But…”

  “Whatever, I would like to render it to the Hermitage.”

  “Before that - you must go to the police and report about that,” said the Hermitage Director, “they’ll know what to do with the pictures’ trader. .. They’ll hang it somewher; beware it would not hang you!”

  Elya did as he had been consulted. He brought the arrest of the Jewish trader, who was sent to exile in Siberia. Borisov, Elya’s friend, who was then the Inspector of the trade Control and Licensing of the Minsk Municipality, undertook under his responsibility the ‘artificial’ and original paintings and sculptuires of that store. Also un-framed paintings and drawings had remained there, as well as old furniture that could be replenished and exhibited in a more respectable place than a dark cellar Arts Shop.

  Borisov told Elya about all that. He said that he would think about establishing a New Gallery in the city, in addition to the old one, that had existed in a half ruined palace. Its renovation would take two or three years, and better to have another Gallery in the city center.

  “So, I have an idea,” said Borisov to his friend Elya, “I will recommend to the Mayor- to choose a wonderful place for the the New Gallery and temporary Museum. It’ll be in one of the Jewish streets.”

  “Let’s hear what has come into your mind,” said Elya.

  “Remember the old Kosher Butchery, that we’ve shut down a few months ago? That was done toghether with changing the main Synagogue, The Choral, into a cinema club.”

  “Wonderful,” said Elya. “I think it’s a good idea. If you find a budget for replenishing the butchery place, I will discuss that also with the party secretary and get his approval. I will also let it be known to the young generation. My Youths are so eager and enthusiastic to enjoy the Russian original culture, old and new productions. .. By the way , I was last week in a meeting in Moscow.”

  “With Tovarish (comrade) Stalin?” asked Borisov with balled eyes, which showed how much he had admired his friend.

  “Yes! And he promised me- a special budget for building a Cinema House here, especially for our youths. The money will come out from the Party’s cash secret fund.”

  “If so, we should immediately find an area for that modern Kino house,” said Borisov.

  In the middle of the Jewish large Ghetto - there was the locked hut, that had previously been used for the Jewish Kosher Butchery. Within a week - its outside and inside walls were colorfully painted, and its doors and windows replacd. A big plateboard on the wooden external wall announced its new – modern use: ”The City’s New Art Gallery and Workshop”.

  Of course, the wooden long table for putting the hens on it, while being butchered- had not remained inside. It was removed to the backyard, where it was put in a corner. On it were some chicken feathers mixed with congealed old blood. Also three big labels “Kosher”- in Hebrew and Russian - hanged on the external rear wall of the Gallery. A childish painting of two quarrelling cocks had remained also on that wall.

  Inside, however, the hut had become well shapedl: Its two rooms were combined to be used as a broad hall. New electric lights with ornamental “chandeliers” were hanging on the ceiling. An old fashioned type of a Photographer’s picture- covering his head and back by a black “light prohibit” sheet of cloth, was hanged on the wall opposite to the entry, as a modern creative fine arts. Golden framed oil paintings were hanging already on the Gallery’s walls, depicting sceneries of Russia (snow sledges, horses, forests) and portrays.

  In the ‘Opening Evening’ of the municipal arts gallery, twenty people were standing at the middle of the Gallery Hall, drinking Vodka and eating honey cakes, to celebrate the cultural event. The participants were some V.I.P.-s from the Minsk municipality and communist party- and their wives or girlfriends. Of course - Elya and Natalya were among them.

  The Gallery Manager, painter Mendel Mendelevitch, was the host of this party. The big group was moving along the hall, and most of the couples were chatting, while surveying the pictures exhibited on the walls for that special institute’s inauguration.

  Elya and Natalya were walking with the Manager-painter Mendelevich. They were looking together at the portrays’ paintings of leaders Lenin, Stalin, Karl Marks. Elya turned to Mendelevich, tapping lightly on his back:

  “Comrade Mendelevich,” he said, “Is it reasonable, that you’ll manage the Gallery alone? You’ll hardly have time- to dedicate to the pure art of painting, that you like so much!”

  “What do you suggest by that, comrade?” replied the painter, “My budget is short. I couldn’t persuade the Mayor to increase it.”

  Elya had taken out a typed letter from from his pocket, read it and put it back. He spoke to the painter with self confidence.

  “I’m speaking in the name of our Party’s youth section. We like artists like you- and therefore we suggest, that the Gallery’s management should be divided. In this manner- it would be more efficient, artistically and economically.”

  “What do you mean?” shouted Mendelevitch. Many ears were turned and many eyes directed – toward the quite quarrelling men.

  “You need a second person here,” told him Elya in a moderated tone.

  “If so,” howled the painter, still facing the curious eyes of the audience, “you all forget about me as being the director; and I won’t be the salesman- who’ll bring clients to this Gallery. I strongly oppose what you suggest, comrade. Though you lead the young men in town - Elya Ruhin!”

  Elya waved his head and sent a smile to Natalya, who was standing beside him.

  “Calm down, monsieur Mendelevitch,” she said, “The second persona that we offer , won’t be your competitor - but an Assistant. He won’t be a Painter, O.K.?” She stopped speaking, indicating the curious audience to go away, saying: “please it’s a private talk.”

  “Take Rabbi Aaron Hittin as a cashier and administrator,” whispered Elya.

  “Oh! I see!” said the painter, who was relieved from what he had thought to be a plot, “Elya, I adore you for still having pity on your fanatic friend. But- have you asked the Rabbi- if he would agree to have that job here?” He pointed on the wall, where a picture of a half naked Ballerina was hanging..

  “I think that the Rabbi will agree to any job.” said Natalya, “He and his cripple son are starving, comrade Mendelevitch.”

  “If that’s the situation, no problem with me.” said the Gallery Genral Manager.

  Next d
ay Natalya came to Rabbi Aaron’s hut with Borisov, who – like Elya- was also an ex-friend of Aaron. They offered him the Job at the Gallery. He will be the cashier, who writes the invoices and takes the money. He will be titled also ‘Administrator’, whose task is to announce and coordinate artistic events. . . Though Mendelevitch will do all the corespondence in the Russian language.”

  “But it’s a place of profanity,” protested Rabbi Aaron, “and of adultery! How can I agree to that? Let me think about it …”

  “Rabbi, we have all studied the Talmud,” said Borisov, “It says- that saving a human life supersedes even Sabbath.”

  “So what?” asked Rabbi Aaron, “I’m talking about the whole idea.”

  “In the Gallery you won’t work on Sabbath,” said Borisov, “and I have already organized, that when your child grows, with the help of God,” Borisov gazed at Natalya, and both smiled, “He will be permitted to be there with you- two hours and more per day, at noontime.”

  “But what about the fine arts, that I’ve heard about? There are filthy paintings; and nude sculptues - even worse than in the pictures.”

  “You won’t be forced to look at the profanity paintings. However at three pictures, of living people, that are of our very pure and righteous leaders- you should look.”

  “Which ones?”

  “It’s an order from the communist party, that we’ve received last week: Portrays of Stalin, Lenin and Marshal Voroshilov -should be exposed permanently to the public. No others, who are oppositionists. So, these three men’s portrays have been hung there

  already. They are ornamented by nice golden frames. Each one is hanging on the gallery’s wall - in two or three copies, in different poses. All are oil painted, by the best painters in Russia today.”

  “Hmmm…” said Rabbi, “let me read what our holy books write about this whole problem.”

  “tomorrow morning is the dead-line for your answer,” told him Natalya.

  When they left the Rabbi’s house it was night. He looked at his son, who was seated at his wagon and looking at him, calling: ‘papa nititti’ meaning that he would like to see the nightingale. Rabbi Aaron brought the little enclosed bird from the corridor, his permanent hanging location -and hanged his cage on the room’s wall. Then he pushed the boy’s wagon toward it. The boy chatted with the nightingale, the bird twitted to him, and Rabbi was reflecting:

  ‘What tasks am I said to fulfill? Would the owner of that Gallery, Minsk’d Municipality force me to believe that those paintings or sculptures are my idols? Of course not. I shall not kneel to the portrays. I’ll laugh in my heart at all those vanities, called ‘fine arts’. God will take into account that I have to serve at the Arts’ Worshippers House- for my earning. Otherwise I myself and my son will starve and die. I am not going to be in close touch with the paintings and sculptures. Our Torah had said: “Don’t make any shape or picture and don’t worship them” – but its meaning was that we should not think about these forms as Idols. We know that in the Talmud times – some Rabbies allowed people to own and enjoy looking at pictures, especially of animals and plants… Some of our Wise Men had not prohibited themselves from enjoying ‘fine arts’ for their beauty per se, as the Creator had created the sense of enjoying beauty - in every living crature . . Well, Borisov was right, saying that I can avoid looking at some prophane productions, but I am allowed to look and enjoy others - drawings, paintings and sculptures, that show God’s might and creativity and prove man’s inferiority and futility... Now I have to think about a future day, when Mendelevitch may be sick. Then I’ll remain alone in the gallery, and clients would arrive – and become eager to purchase something which to me would seem ‘idol worship.’ Then I should not negotiate with such a client, but tell him to come another day, when the painter will be available...Also – what will happen in a case of emergency, when many people would fill the gallery due to an exciting exhibition? Mendel should take a gentile for a part time job, because marketing and selling is not my job, and I principally oppose all that ‘fine arts’. Well, by mistake there may be hired a man who is a religious Pravoslav – disguised as a communist. He will secretely sell to ardent Jesus Believers old pictures from the cellar. These pictures are now prohibited by the Bolsheviks, being a clerical propaganda! Borisov had told me that.. But perhaps I exaggerate the severity of that problem: Most of the pictures that are sold now are the super-modern ones: They show either the portrays of the regime’s new Icons: Lenin and other Bolshevik leaders (Mendelevitch is an expert in painting and drawing these)... Other topics of the new paintings is what they call: the Socialistic Realism: Soviet new factories, ‘teeth-rollers’ and wheels and motor cars and tractors and trains and so on. Such drawings and paintings of mechanics, like pictures showing Nature’s beauty - flowers and animals and birds, are allowed to be viewed by a Jew like me. The ‘Tosefot Wise men’, living in the twelve century – wrote that. I remember one of the Chapters of ‘Baba Kama Talmud’ where they said: ‘even a man’s body with a calf face- or a turned over caw, feet over the head, are allowed. These forms do not immitate the creation of God in its normal-original shape! Only a shape of a human being is forbidden to be looked at - in whatever form or pose, because a man may worship another man as an idol…’

  So, Rabbi Aaron decided that he should take the job in the Gallery. A day later, when Natalya re-visited his hut, she heard that from him. She praised him for his ‘courageous decision’ as she called it.

  In the first day of Rabbi Aron’s arrival at the Arts gallery, rain and light snow were dropping on the windows. Mendelevich had been already inside, as Rabbi Aaron approached him.

  “Good morning, my old friend, Mendel,” He said, “I’ll be happy to work with you.”

  “Rabbi, you are really welcome,” said the Gallery Painter- Manager, “I hope you’ll enjoy your job, and I will try to make you feel here as comfortable as possible.”

  Rabbi Aaron thanked him, and Mendelevich walked with him along the large gallery hall. Aaron carried with him two books: A big volume of Talmud and a smaller one of Psalms. Mendelevitch pointed to him on a far desk, that would be his work-place, or ‘Cash Position’- as the painter called it.

  On their way toward it, Rabbi peeped askew at a picture hanging on the wall. Mendelevich was staying at this art production, and Rabbi asked what is its ‘special creativity’, that he is vewing with such interest.

  ‘it’s an original of Vrubel, who is thought to be one of the best artists in the world,” answered Mendelevitch. Aron could not understand nor find any originality in that painting.

  He left the painter, got to his desk, was seated on it- and soon turned over some pages in the thick book that he had brought. He was eager to read, while the painter was still viewing new art productions that he had hanged on the walls before Rabbi Aaron had entered.

  Then the painter-manager turned toward the Rabbi, asking if he had ever used Cash Position’s “beads’ calculating frame” - of those days. Rabbi Aaron said he was not familiar with that aparatus, and moved his head as helpless. The painter approached him, looking into his Talmud book.

  “Oh, You are reading a nicely printed page...But you should leave something for the coming days… Our work has to be done, Rabbi. Please pay attention how to operate this apparatus : I add two and three here, you see?” he moved the beads from the left side of the frame to the right – by his fingers, and counted five.

  “Well, I will begin to learn now” said Rabbi, “today we have a bad weather. So, few people would arrive, and I’ll have time to train.”

  Mendelevich left Rabbi Aaron alone, impatiently. He moved again along the wall, opposite to the entry. He re-inspected the paintings hanging on there. There were also un-framed paintings inside a wooden box on the floor, and he checked them too.

  Rabbi looked nervously at his desk drawers. In the upper one he had put his books. He wanted to study Talmud again. But Men
delevich came nearby again, intending to irritate him.

  “Rabbi, I have seen you before - taking a glimpse at a naked Princess’ picture. Is it nice for a Rabbi to look at such profanity?”

  “You a have a real mistake, comrade Medelevitch,” said Rabbi Aaron, “Take out of there – the portray of Tsar Nikolay! I’ve looked at his picture, not at the woman!”

  Mendelevitch rushed to the opposite wall. There was a relatively small picture, that only Aaron noticed what it had shown. Painter Mendel pulled it down from the wall. Looking at it he murmured:

  “Oh! The Bolsheviks will really hang me - instead of this!”

  He rushed outside, through the rear right door, to the “Kosher Ex-butchery” courtyard. There he lit a small fire, by a dry wood that he had found thereby, and burnt the Tsar’s portray painting. He came back to the Gallery through the same door, approached Rabbi Aaron and told him:

  “Rabbi! Two days ahead we will have Saturday, Jewish Sabbath. You have a whole day off. I’ll take Monday and Tuesday afternoons. Don’t forget!” Rabbi Aaron nodded.

  CHAPTER 11

 

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