“You know, those are the most lovely matzah earrings I’ve ever seen.”
“And did you see that ‘Winnie the Pooh’ chanukiah?”
“Check this out — a dueling Chassidim chess set to go along with your Jews vs. Christians chess set! Can you mix and match? Does a yeshiva kid take a Santa?”
Kitsch, as defined by the American Heritage College Dictionary, is “art or artwork characterized by sentimental, often pretentious, bad taste.”
Kitsch, as defined by the purveyors of all things Jewish, includes the aforementioned “Winnie the Pooh” chanukiot, matzah earrings and dueling-faith chess sets as well as even louder fare such as inflatable Chassidim, Carmen Miranda-style yarmulkes, Manischewitz purses and boxing rabbis.
Not exactly winning fare for Chanukah gifts — or is it? Some kids may love ’em.
Surely, many Jews would like to think that tacky religious decor is solely a trapping of the Santa-and-his-reindeer-on-the-front-lawn set. But in reality, indulging in garish, religiously themed accouterments sometimes falls within the Jewish domain.
Put simply, if you’ve got a thing for shag carpeting, day-glo wallpaper and flashy mezuzot, feel free to use this article as your Chanukah gift-giving guide. The Bulletin will not, of course, be held responsible for the reactions of your friends and family.
“We have a golf menorah this year. That’s very unique and quite different. We have a fire truck menorah and a ceramic train menorah. In the past we did a whole line of ‘Winnie the Pooh’ menorahs and dreidels and also ‘Curious George.’ Currently we have ‘Fiddler on the Roof’ water globes, menorahs and dreidels,” said Philip Lax, the Brooklyn-based proprietor of Aviv Judaica Imports.
The Orthodox Lax, who broke into the Judaica business 25 years ago with his father, has observed a binge in slightly unorthodox decorations in the last 20 years, particularly when it comes to child-themed decor. And he’s played no insignificant role in the trend.
While on a trip to Hong Kong, he was hit with a bolt of inspiration. He struck a deal with a stuffed-animal maker, and 45 minutes later the plush Torah was born.
“In Hong Kong, I saw many plush items. I showed this guy what a Torah looks like. Kids relate to it, kids love it — it’s cuddly. I told him to make it for me,” he recalled. “That’s a staple, just like magnetic alef-bet letters, domino games, musical dreidels that play songs when they spin, bingo games for the Jewish holidays. Anything that basically stimulates children. That’s what we make.”
While Lax and other merchants have been told that Disney chanukiot, singing dreidels and the like are cheapening and commercializing religious objects, they reply that anything that draws young people’s attention to religious rituals is a good thing.
Danny Levine found himself on the front page of The Wall Street Journal a decade ago when he was at the forefront of the cartoon yarmulke trend. He also found himself in court.
“We had a few lawsuits. ‘Sesame Street’ and ‘Where’s Waldo?’ told us they don’t want yarmulkes with their likenesses on them. Most other companies looked on it as a positive thing,” recalled Levine, the fourth-generation director of the New York-based J. Levine Books & Judaica. Levine’s great-grandfather started with a pushcart 112 years ago in Lithuania, and the company has since sold more than a few “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle” kippot.
“People who take a more conservative approach say you’re diluting the Jewish experience if you have a Mickey Mouse yarmulke. But I myself am modern Orthodox. Anything that can blend the Jewish experience into the modern world, more power to it.”
But kitsch is not just kid stuff. Levine, who was more or less born into the Judaica business, noticed more and more nontraditional Jewish fare (such as tie-dyed or denim prayer shawls) as Jews melded into the cultural mainstream in the 1960s.
Currently, super-hot Judaica items include patriotic, red, white and blue Magen Davids and mezuzot and New York memorial skyline menorah, according to Karen Kogan, a buyer for the Illinois-based Source of All Things Jewish.
There is a thin line, however, between the merely loud and the truly kitschy. And while a seder plate featuring the Statue of Liberty or the Matzah Man may straddle that line, a dessert hewn from crushed pretzels, ice cream, frozen limeade and a generous dollop of Jose Cuervo bearing the name Hava Tequila pie is most certainly “Judaikitsch.”
San Franciscan Jennifer Traig and her sister Victoria of Portland, Ore., penned “Judaikitsch” (Chronicle Books, $14.95) — a do-it-yourself manual on how to sew, mold and bake jaw-droppingly ostentatious Jewish fare. Items are designed to rival over-the-top Catholic decor and the popular Pastime Jesus statues (which feature a robed, bearded Jesus coaching ballplayers or ballerinas).
Easy-to-assemble classics include the Neil Tzedakah box, the Borscht belt, gefilte fish Jewshi and the Manischewitz bottle lamp.
One delicacy that didn’t make the final cut — pun intended — was the Sha-Bette Midler chopped liver sculpture.
“It’s too crude a medium. And we decided that she’s too fine a figure to sculpt in such a crude manner,” said a laughing Traig, a regular at Chabad of Noe Valley who describes herself as “flexidox — kosher at home, not so good at the away games.”
Actually, she said, “you can see in the photos that the liver was starting to turn. It was a disaster.”
Sales figures for the book, however, have been far from disastrous — especially in the Deep South.
“I’m amazed,” said Traig, who grew up in Woodland, near Davis, which she estimated was one-quarter-of 1 percent Jewish. “All I can guess is that it’s already in line with Southern sensibilities.”
For his part, Rabbi Gedalia Potash of Chabad of Noe Valley owns a copy of the book and shows it off to guests. But, as far as Traig knows, he has yet to whip up a Hava Tequila pie.
Just as a moldy Midler was too much for Traig to take, Judaica merchants report that there are more than a few items that are just too kitschy for their own good.
“I’ll give you an example — one character of ‘Pooh’ is Piglet. I won’t have it on my menorah. I felt that’d be offensive,” said Lax. “I would never do a Rugrat. I watched it once; the characters were violent! They’re just not nice! Disney characters are cute, they’re nice. And I’m here to promote Judaism. The ‘Rugrats’ characters, I just won’t do it.”
Levine does stock a “Rugrats” menorah in his Manhattan shop, but he admits his wife won’t allow him to bring it into the house. He has turned down cartoon-character prayer shawls, and an Easter-Passover hybrid called the Matzah Bunny. And while dancing Chassidic doll Harvey Magila is a hit, his electronic wife, Yenta — who talks about marrying a rich man and cooking a mean brisket — is “very stereotypical.”
Incidentally, Gary Barris’ The Rabbi Says figures have recently given the discriminating shopper a second option in jolly Chassidim dolls.
Kogan has turned down pig-shaped dog toys with the word “traif” printed on them and brushed aside the Chanukah vs. Christmas “December Dilemma” chess set.
Levine, again, peddles the chess set, but he notes that the Jewish and Christian chess pieces are “playing, not fighting.” He stresses that he does not carry a Jewish vs. Muslim chess set.
Unfortunately, for those hoping to stroll into a local Judaica store and pick up, say, a pair of matzah earrings or a Neil Tzedakah box, super chintzy items are as easy to spot as Elijah the prophet. Owners of local shops such as Oakland’s Afikomen or Palo Alto’s bob and bob say that Bay Area residents would rather plotz than buy such dreck.
“Lots of kitschy stuff you see in other places is kind of by-mistake kitsch. They don’t set out to be tasteless,” explained Ellen Bob, who runs her South Bay shop with her mother.
“There are really big Jewish stars that would sell a lot in Miami but here they don’t sell. People have shown us earrings that look like real matzah. No one would wear that here. There’s not a high density of Jews in this community, so if you wear matzah earrings to work, none of your co-workers will know what it is. In New York or Miami, it’s a different experience.”
Traig concurs, describing Bay Area Judaica as “very nice…all beautiful, not tacky.” To get her fill of cheesy Judaica, Traig traveled back East, designating Baltimore as home to particularly ludicrous Judaikitsch.
But if you think Jewish kitsch is something you have to go searching for, think again. Jewish kitsch can come looking for you — on any random street corner.
San Francisco street balloon artist Brian Asman has been known to twist dogs, monkeys and, if you ask nicely, a rabbi and rebbetzin.
“I wonder if anyone might try to say anything negative, but, being Jewish myself, it’s like being able to make Jewish jokes,” said Asman, a trained chef, of possible negative feelings induced by his inflatable rabbis.
“Since I’ve come to San Francisco, I haven’t seen much Jewish anything. There are a couple of synagogues around, but I haven’t been there myself. My grandmother wants me to go, just like any other Jewish boy would.”
But he’ll have to leave his rubber rabbis at home.