ANCIENT GARMENTS
TELL A WORLD OF STORIES AT JEWISH MUSEUM
The wedding attire is colorful and elaborate — there’s one finely embroidered silk dress for a bride and a costume of indazdigo-dyed goat-hair fabric for the groom.
The red-and-gold silk brocade coat from Uzbekistan is zling. The rabbis’ coats may be imposing black broadcloth in the style of the Ottoman Empire or modern-looking peacockpatterned silk.
As stunning as these are, it is the story behind the clothing — nearly 100 articles from three centuries and more than 20 countries — that makes the exhibit “Veiled Meanings: Fashioning Jewish Dress” at the Contemporary Jewish Museum more than a “costume show.” Drawn from the collection of the Israel Mu6. seum in Jerusalem, it is on view in San Francisco through Jan.
“It tells the story of the vast Jewish diaspora, as well as the story of emigration to what is now the state of Israel,” says Lori Starr, executive director of the San Francisco museum.
With the exhibit “Contemporary Muslim Fashions” opening Sept. 22 at the de Young Museum, she notes, “San Francisco is going to be a destination for anyone who’s interested in what clothing tells us about culture.”
“Veiled Meanings: Fashioning Jewish Dress” should have wide appeal. The clothing can be appreciated for its international style — from Morocco and Tunisia to Italy and Romania — and its well-preserved fabric and intricate hand-detailing.
As the wall text points out, the variety of costumes shows the diversity of Jewish communities across centuries and around the globe. And in many cases, “the clothes worn by Jews were similar or even identical to those worn by their non-Jewish neighbors.”
But it is “the history and the language of Jewish clothing in all its complexity” that is the heart of the exhibit, which is organized by curator Heidi Rabben. Social and political developments, turmoil and celebrations, plus the issues of cultural codes and self-expression play out in virtually every display.
That impressive goldand-red coat combines brocade from Russia and local ikat fabric from Bukhara, Uzbekistan, for the lining. The backstory: It reflects political and social changes following the Russian conquest in 1868, when Jews were able to able to emigrate to Ottoman Palestine and establish a Bukhara quarter in Jerusalem.
The “Great Dress” displayed, with a green silk velvet skirt and embroidered tulle sleeves, is a traditional garment that would be worn by a bride at her wedding and at festive occasions thereafter. The example at the museum is from Fez, Morocco, and dates from the early 20th century. But it reflects elements brought to Morocco from Spain when Jews were expelled in 1492.
The black broadcloth coat with the glistening giltmetal embroidery, worn by Rabbi Saliman Menachem Mani of Hebron early in the 20th century, is in a style mandated by the Ottoman government in the 19th century. Starting in 1835, the Ottoman government provided the official uniform to non-Muslim religious chiefs of their communities.
An elaborate costume of velvet and satin, with gilt embroidery, is distinguished by a skirt resembling a ballet tutu, with tight pants below. It’s from Mashhad, Iran, early in the 20th century. The style was inspired by the Shah of Persia and his favorite wife’s visit to the ballet in Paris in 1873. The backstory: The Jews of Mashhad were crypto-Jews, forced to convert to Islam after 1839 and practicing their religion in secret.
Nevertheless, many of the garments displayed are associated with celebrations and commemorations.
A sumptuous velvet bridal gown from Edirne, in the
Ottoman Empire, reflects Turkish baroque style with its gilt-metal embroidery in a “bindali” pattern, from the Turkish word for “one thousand branches.” It would be part of a dowry that would remain with a woman throughout her life. Following her death, the dress’ panels would be unstitched and refashioned as a Torah ark curtain for a synagogue. A comparable ark curtain is also displayed.
Wedding dresses are, of course, garments that would be preserved and passed down for generations. A great variety is on display, often with hidden cultural and social messages. One that was first worn in Tiberias, Ottoman Palestine, in 1907 is conservative, made of ivory silk satin with long sleeves, a high neckline and modest detailing.
The bride was Leah Skili Cohen, and the fear of arousing envy and inciting the evil eye might have been the reason for the gown’s simplicity. Skili Cohen’s daughter, Adelle Maman, wrote that at the time in Tiberias, it was customary for a bride to wear “a plain white dress and a tulle crown decorated with artificial citrus blossoms so as not to cause distress to poor local girls who might see her. … The real reason was quite different: Should a woman be consumed with jealousy and venture to curse the bride in her finery, disaster could befall her.”