Multiple shards of one or more Israeli-blue teacup(s) and perhaps a broken teapot are scattered beneath and within the bare branches of mostly leafless trees. Deconstruction by destruction. The damaged trees, perhaps dead, though not transected or fallen yet, are Bak’s visual metaphor for individuals, a family, or members of a small community still erect after significant trauma. For these stark, damaged individuals, intimate association with the broken ceramics confirms devastation to the elements of their culture, to the heritage they once possessed.
Although some of these trees might survive and regrow, this Bak painting is somewhat atypical with its lack of even a small symbol of hope. This is a grim metaphoric presentation of the wreckage created by purposeful violent offence. There can be terrible loss of life, but for those who might survive, there is loss of the existence they once knew, a loss of artifacts and of recorded facts which once defined their world.
Does this sadness resonate with you? To be specific, does the devastating treatment of native Americans, the abhorrent kidnapping and enslavement of African peoples, and the current wanton bombing of civilian populations in Ukrainian cities come to mind? These malevolent human malignities have a personal impact on Bak as he survived one of the worst, the Holocaust. The title, “Into the Trees” as opposed to “Into the Woods” or “Into the Forest”, suggests a very individual experience, what each person encounters within the horror of mass decimation. Indeed, it is at the personal level that each of us can best identify this inhumanity and resolve to seek prevention, but never participation.
Dr. Carl M. Herbert (Guest Writer)
BAK a Day, March 15, 2024
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"Into the Trees" sounds like a benign French impressionist title. A walk in the woods. Certainly not the trees of Ponari! These were the killing fields of the Nazis and Lithuanians where more than 70,000 Jews were shot into an open pit.
The broken cups are ensnared in the trees. They were beautiful and treasured objects. Each had its own story of creation, use and appreciation. Now each is in pieces as is the memory of the 70,000. As time passes, the memory may fade and the fragments will pass into the ground of loss and forgotten land.
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