By Erin Levi
The Second Exhibition of Paintings (and Other Works) by Bukharian Jewish Artists in America opened on Sunday, September 15, kicking off the Week of Bukharian Culture. The opening reception was attended by Rabbi Baruch Babaev, curator Rafael Nektalov, Roman Kaykov, Merik Rubinov, Steve Gavrielov, and many more.
Unfortunately, I missed the opening as I was flying back from Kazakhstan, where I attended the World Nomad Games.
And so, on Tuesday, its second-to-last day, I was led around the exhibit, located on the 3rd floor of the BJCC, by the curator (my boss) Rafael Nektalov.
At first glance, I only noticed the big gold framed paintings of Ruben Bore’s realistic portrayals of Bukharian Jewish life: a man with a long white beard and blue and yellow striped joma running turquoise fabric through a singer sewing machine. Was he a tailor, I wondered? What was he making?
Another man, in a technicolor robe, is shaving a client’s head—outside. A sort of Bukharian barbershop en plein air. This is a trade they brought with them when they immigrated to New York.
Then there are the women in their fancy dress like birds of paradise, proud and beautiful. And a portrait of young boys learning Torah.
Portrayals of people. Portrayals of everyday life—of everyday Bukharian Jewish life in their homeland.
There were also beautiful still lifes by Roshel Iskhakov, a former graphic designer in the Soviet Army in Moscow — I particularly loved the one featuring Uzbek textiles — and wonderful portraits of renowned Bukharian figures by Yakov Kandinov. My favorite? His portrait of Aron Aronov, pulling a large wooden cart through the desert—the same cart that he brought to his Bukharian Jewish Museum.
Then Rafael showed me a stunning self-portrait (oil on canvas, 1986) of Boris Rubinov, a member of the USSR Artists’ Union and the chief artist of the Samarkand State Puppet Theater. His gaze, with a contemplative expression, pierced right through me. Wearing a red sweater over a collared shirt, he’s holding a palette of paints, indicating he is an artist. He’s otherwise surrounded by surreal elements, like a dragon and an assortment of architectural forms, and a ship traveling through turbulent waters. What these symbols meant to him I’m not sure.
«This was Merik’s brother,» he said, meaning my Bukharian Times colleague Merik Rubinov. He then shared his tragic story: a year later, he was murdered, as was his family.
And many of his works of art were destroyed.
Cutting.
We continued to move through the room, onto the impressionistic works by Alexander Fuzaylov, featuring soft pastels in chunky strokes. A nice palette cleanser, if you wish.
Aside from paintings, there was a series of black and white photographs from the 1970s in Soviet Uzbekistan by the photographer Grigory Kaykov (1955-2022). In many ways, life there looks unchanged (from my own personal trips and experiences there.)
And there were incredible gilded mosaics by Yakov Hanansen (b. 1947 in Andijon), who Rafael mentioned had done a display in one of New York City’s subway stations. The evil eye mosaic (ceramics, 24K gold) is priced at $25,000.
And that’s exactly what this exhibit was: a mosaic of Bukharian Jewish life—its history, its traditions, and its enduring spirit, brought together through the vibrant works of these talented artists.