Manchester Jewish Museum - Day 3

 

This morning, after having some kosher chocolate and a brew, myself and Laura tackled the rest of the items I wanted to look at in the museum's archive. These were pieces that fell into the categories of 'Sewing' and 'Textiles'.

First up was something I didn't get around to looking at yesterday but is well worth the mentioning. A stunning silk pillowcase embroidered with thick gold thread which would have been used as part of a circumcision ceremony. This one in particular was made in 1906 in Aleppo Syria as a wedding gift to a couple who eventually settled in Manchester.

Not only was this piece a treat for the eyes but it held some interesting details including an Arabic word which is thought to say 'in the name of God'. This is intriguing to find on a Jewish item but makes sense when you put the location it was made into context, the Middle East being a place where both Jewish and Muslim faiths live alongside one another and overlaps are bound to occur.

 

Similarly, the strange symbol to the right of the central 'S' standing for the initials of the couple, depicts a Hamsa Hand, which as I learnt from the Women's Textile Group on Monday is also found in both faiths and symbolises protection, happiness and luck.

I found it particularly affecting to think that this wonderful item was made in Aleppo while it was still a prosperous city full of culture. This piece is a connection to the people and stories that made up Aleppo's rich history before the current devastating war took hold and changed everything.

Next up a peek at some Torah mantles. These are decorative covers which hold the holy scrolls found in the Synagogue. These items are huge and heavy and we were only able to unwrap a little of them to get the idea. I found it interesting that instead of the textile embroidered mantles found in European and cooler climates, Middle Eastern covers were made of ornamented metal which wouldn't perish in the heat.

Luckily we found some miniature replica mantles which would have been used for educational purposes. They illustrated how the full items look and function. The textile ones had more of the heavy fringing and thick embroidery depicting religious symbols and foliage I have gotten used to seeing on many of the ceremonial objects seen already.

All the items I've looked at that are used for ceremonial purposes in the Synagogue or home have had some form of cover or bag, and I am really intrigued by this idea. These textile items are usually made and decorated by women's groups or female family members to be used in devotional practice. However the act of making them is also devotional, the women giving up time and skills to create beautiful objects for loved ones and their communities.

With this in mind I wanted to look at a selection of Tefillin (for more about Tefillin bags see yesterday's post) and Tallit (prayer shawl) bags .These were all located in one handy box that held a variety of shapes and styles, from the highly ornate to the most simple and plain.

 

Some bags still held the objects they were made for

They were all hand embroidered with the initials of the owner and other decorative work such as flowers, or symbolic crowns and stars from Judaica. Some had birds and lions on as part of a crest like pattern which Laura pointed out was strange since animals aren't usually depicted in the Jewish faith.

I enjoyed the colours and designs on these bags and thought that in a different setting they could be mistaken for women's bags. There is a repeating pattern of using rich reds, blues, greens, golds, purple and creams in the religious items we looked at and this is something I'll definitely be using in my own work as I frame my ideas around women's needlework and identity. 

I like the paraphernalia of these items and the theatrical nature of them sets their purpose apart from every day activities. They offer a window to something extra and important, yet I cant help thinking that like anything that is used regularly, we can grow blind to it's beauty and meaning. Perhaps this is one reason why women's efforts and creativity in textiles are often overlooked.

Manchester Jewish Museum - Day 2

I am currently sat in the research room of Central Library in Manchester. It's very quiet and it's got long banks of desks with large grey pillows at every station. These are for laying archive items on while they are examined, which is something I'm going to be doing in just a minute.

You see, myself and Laura, the Creative Producer from Manchester Jewish Museum, have just been down into museum's archive store and found a host of incredible items I want to look at. The museum is currently housed at the library while it's main building is undergoing a major construction and restoration project.

The museum's entire collection of objects, documents, photographs and oral histories is temporarily located in the library's underground store which has fancy shelves that move across the floor opening up new materials to explore at the touch of a button.

Yesterday Laura and I had spent time going through the museum's catalogue to find items that fit my research into women and textiles, specifically items made as acts of devotion. This could be devotion to their, faith, their families or general documentation of life events. The catalogue did not disappoint and today we found objects that fit our search for 'embroidery'.

Starting off, we found a set of huge Ark curtains made for a synagogue which was once in Manchester (the Chaye Adam Synangogue in Cheetham now closed, having merged with other synagogues in the area). Ark curtains surround the Ark which holds the Torah scrolls used in the Jewish faith. This particular set were made and presented by the 'Ladies of the Chaye Adam Synagogue' in 1935 as a memorial to a 'Hannah Judith Tynas'.

The embroidery on them was done in thick gold thread and after all these decades the workmanship is still perfect. In fact the entire pieces were in very good order, all being hand made. Traditionally, women are not meant to touch the Torah scrolls, so I liked the fact that women had made something integral to the ceremony and included the name of their female congregation member in the decoration. It seemed to me, they had used the options open to them to ensure they had a definite presence in the holy observation.

In the same box holding the curtains, unbeknown to us, were a second set of Ark curtains, this time in a rich red velvet decorated with lavish sequins and metallic fringing. I liked these very much. The different textures and colours made the pieces very tactile and both sets of curtains depicted leaves and greenery. Laura explained that trees are important in Israel where there is a lack of them. Every year, people have tree planting drives where others in the UK pay to have a tree planted in order to create orchards. This is a way to give back to the community and provide food and produce.

Next up for observation was a Matzah cover. The covers are traditionally used to cover the Matzo bread during the Passover supper (See yesterday's post for more about Matzo bread). They contain three pockets in which to place symbolic matzo breads and the cover I wanted to see is a great example of a home made item handed down through the family.

It was brought from Poland around 1914 by the Leinhardt family when they left for Berlin. Eventually, in 1933 the family came to live in Manchester and brought the cover with them. It was handed to the museum in 1984. The cover is obviously very old and well used. I discovered the pockets by accident when I picked it up, not realising they are a trait of all Matzah covers. There are still bread crumbs inside, which add to the history of the item. It makes me wonder how many Passover meals it has seen and how many generations of the Leinhardt's have grown up around it.

The decorative work is very delicate and deteriorating now but you can still see the care that went into making it. The box that held this item also held other examples of Matzah covers, though none as fine as this.

Other discoveries in the box included finely embroidered cloths which I can only guess from the info I have found are Challah cloths. These are used to cover two braided loaves for the Shabbat.

Apologies if I am wrong in my guess, but I wanted to share one of these cloths as I thought it was so well embroidered and I was touched by the care that had obviously gone into mending where the fabric had perished. It has been a cherished item in someone's life and shows hand stitching used for both decoration/devotion and repairing. Two aspects women often carry out in the home.

There was also a gorgeously embroidered Tefillin bag which would have held Tefillin boxes used in prayers by orthodox males. It was an unexpected find so came with no information, however what I enjoyed is that the bag is so attractive and embroidered with the initials of the owner. It's a pleasure to hold and look at.

During this research I've been looking for rhymes and patterns in Jewish women's needle work and the overarching one is that every piece serves a purpose yet isn't just purely functional. Items are highly decorated with embroidery and rich colours not only signifying their importance but making them a pleasure to use. The decoration on items of Jewish faith from the most humble to the most ornate are linked by the use of women's time and combined effort. Women's industry and creativity have helped to shape the face of Jewish life in the home and the synagogue.

A very different yet special item Laura wanted me to see is a black silk shawl with an embroidered floral design. It was made by a Jewish woman in a Displaced Persons Camp after her liberation from a concentration camp. This unnamed woman had been in the camp with her husband and two children until the husband died and her children went to America. The Woman was unable to join them due to health reasons and eventually died in the camp too.

The beautiful shawl was given by the women to a Joyce Toacher who was in the English Army and came from Stockport. She was also the person to provide the material and threads for the shawl to be made. Eventually the shawl and it's story were donated to Manchester Jewish Museum. Apparently the Jewish lady had kept diaries of her time in the Displaced Persons Camp but they were destroyed upon her death.

The shawl remains as a legacy of the Jewish woman's story. I can only imagine the emotions she must have had from her time in the two different camps. Loss and sadness perhaps shock and anger. She may have used the shawl as a project to still her mind and focus it, the stitching and placement is perfect. Embroidery can certainly bring an element of mindfulness, and creativity helps to channel energies. I hope this project helped her in some way. It is an unassuming object that was given as a gift of one person's time and devotion to another. It is special in so many ways.

Lastly I just had time to look at some paper embroidery patterns, listed as belonging to the donor's mother and possibly originating in Russia. These cheerful cross stitch patterns also contained ideas for samplers, which are historically used as a young girls entry into needle work. They offer a chance to show off the stitcher's skills and offer a test of ability, with those samplers deemed successful being displayed in the girls home and eventual marital home as a marker of her competence with a needle.

Earlier today I'd seen an example of an actual sampler from 1882 which served as both an example of skilled needle work and a memorial to it's creator. This piece had been made by Rosamund Kohn in Germany. The phrase at the base translates to 'Reminder of my school days'. Rosemund married and had children yet unfortunately became a victim of the holocaust.This sampler, though simple and familiar is a testament to her.

Each item I've looked at today has been more than just it's appearance. Hand made objects always have a story to tell. They hold traces of their maker, they gain meaning through their use and purpose and sometimes they act as a document of time, person and place. I think that gives each piece of needle work I've seen today a greater resonance. The Jewish women who have made them have shaped themselves and the world around them with every stitch.

Manchester Jewish Museum - Day 1

Today I began my week long residency at Manchester Jewish Museum, where I am using the collection to research women and textiles as part of my project about feminine pursuits. I started the day by going over my main objectives for the residency with Creative Producer Dr Laura Seddon. They fell into three categories:

The history of women's needlework:

Jewish history and culture

Identity through practice

Reasons and purpose

The Universal language of needlework:

Finding similarities within artefacts and stories

Patterns

Traditions

Artistic merit:

Looking at needlework's significance

Place in culture

The attention given to each piece

We then went through the museum's catalogue looking for items that fit the criteria. More on this tomorrow when I will be looking at selected items in the collection and finding out more about them.

The afternoon was spent with the museum's Women's Textile Group made up of Jewish and Muslim women who meet once a month to create work together. Meeting them all was brilliant fun and they lived up to their reputation of enjoying a chat!

The session began by the group sharing their most recent sewing based on hamsa hands, a symbol found in both cultures. Their work was beautiful and intricate, and showed off each woman's skill and design flair. Some of the pieces were still being worked on and it was pleasantly relaxing to see people stitching while we talked.

Laura then asked the group to give their opinions on some items she and I had already looked at that morning to see if they could shed more light on them. These included a blue and white embroidered cotton envelope we couldn't explain, a Matzo dish, used for Matzo bread during Passover, and a hand stitched postcard from the First World War.

This ignited much discussion and the group took great interest in the items, studying them with magnifying glasses and keen eyes. The mystery of each was soon solved.

The envelope was an 'Afikoman' bag, used to hold Matzo bread which is hidden somewhere in the home during the Passover supper or 'Seder'. Children are encouraged to find the bread and get a reward. The Afikoman bag is sometimes monogrammed with the child's initial, as this one was with a letter 'H'.

The Matzo dish with it's delicate embroidered hebrew and lace cover was indeed hand made and some member's even translated the inscription which related to the eating of the bread. We all thought it was very well made, including the little buttons that fastened it to the dish. However as one lady pointed out the fabric was perishing in places which might account for one reason why hand crafts aren't as valued as other arts, because of their tendency to deteriorate with time and use.

Lastly the hand stitched postcard got many ooh's and ahh's over it's pretty design but caused a stir when it was properly studied as it said 'To my dear wife, from your loving husband'.

This started much debate over whether a man would have actually stitched it, as one lady said a solider wouldn't have done it himself in front of other men for fear of ridicule. This sentiment might have been a sweeping generalisation if we hadn't already witnessed two men react in similar ways when confronted with the idea of sewing for themselves. These included the male volunteer at the museum who looked perplexed and slightly fearful at the invite to stay for the group's meeting before leaving fast, and a staff member who made a clear point that he was , 'someone whose never sewn before in his life!'.

On conclusion the ladies decided on two outcomes. Either a nurse had stitched it on a soldier's behalf or indeed a man had done it by following the pattern that could just be seen beneath the threads. Either way this is a curious item with a mysterious backstory.

I then got the chance to ask a few questions and find out more about the group. Here's what followed:

Do any of you have a background or interest in needle work?

-At an amateur level. I was taught embroidery, sewing and knitting as a child but never realised it could be a profession.

-It was similar for me, it was a tradition. My mum made covers for everything in our house, including the double cassette player! When I showed her what we were doing in the group she said, 'you're just like me!'  and brought all her own embroidery down to show me. It connected us.

What made you want to attend the group?

-I thought it was nice to meet new people with a shared interest.

-We are all from different walks of life but the sewing connects us. It's a chance for peaceful dialogue. I attend various inter faith events and for me this is a similar chance to show what we share in common rather than what makes us different. Since we set up the group there has been visits to the mosque to meet the Imam and ask questions. That kind of peaceful dialogue is needed now more than ever. It brings communities together and allows us to learn from each other.

What do you enjoy about the process of needle work?

-For me it is mindfulness. I enjoy the colours, textiles and rhythm of the stitches. Its more about the journey than the end product

-A bit like Strictly Come Dancing!

-Yes! But really, like this scarf I'm knitting, I'd happily unravel it and start all over again once it's finished.

-For me, it IS about the end product. it means I've achieved something. It's self accomplishment and we should feel proud.

As women we are usually running after kids or care giving. It's a chance to give ourselves some time and it's good to learn a new skill.

-I started to sew again when I retired and I really enjoy it. It forces you to stop, there's no intensity, and you're doing it with people you wouldn't normally be in contact with.

-Before I started the group I saw it as purely embroidery initially, but once I got involved I saw all the other aspects it entailed [we had earlier mentioned creativity, relaxation and socialising]

Do you think men would enjoy what you do in this textile group?

-No. There's a fear of labels of what women do.

- My nephew is artistic and might enjoy the creative process but wouldn't want to join in the practical side of it.

-Men are competitive because they have to be good at what they do.

-I've found that there's a level of conversation in women's groups, but women's voices get lost when men are involved.

-Men like to do things on a professional level. Women are more chilled but men feel defined by what they do.

-Possibly men in the arts would be more open to what we do

-Men's voices are louder than women's in the art world.

-I think this subject can never be important to a mans life, however if we were a carpentry group it might be different.

-Women find it more natural to teach and are less judgemental.

-That's not always true! But in this group at least it is.

-We don't think twice of men as artists so why not embroidery?

I think it's professionalism verses home orientated arts and crafts.

-Well, everyone has to begin somewhere!

Would you still want to attend this group if it were mixed men and women?

-Yes!

-No. When women do things together they enjoy each others company, its more relaxed. I enjoy the the company of women more than men, but that's my personal preference.

The group meeting was very relaxed, with much laughter and a supportive atmosphere throughout. There was even a large box of luxury biscuits brought out near the end!... and the conversation didn't stop with the sewing; Families were asked after and children's progress noted. It really was an oasis of calm where chat about each other's interests and ideas, religion and culture brought the members closer rather than divided them. It was refreshing and uplifting and the fact that needle work was the catalyst that brought the group together cannot be ignored.

I found the whole experience fascinating and it has given me loads to think about. My thanks to the museum's Women's Textile Group for sharing an enjoyable and informative afternoon with me