“Quantity and quality hardly go together,” says Italian-Israeli artist and modern Judaica craftsperson Leo Contini.
And he knows what he’s talking about. Born in Ferrara, once Italy’s Jewish enclave, Contini embodies both the Jewish and the Italian elements of his family’s many generations — from an Italian sense of polished style to the Jewish tradition of storytelling through art, creating ritual objects whose usefulness is a strong part of their beauty.
Though his artistic endeavors are much praised (his work has been acknowledged by the last four Israeli presidents and three Jerusalem mayors), Contini retains a healthy modesty. At the To Life! festival this year, he will be showing his art for the first time in California. And it seems like a natural fit.
“I hope so,” he says, on the phone from Israel late at night. “We will see!”
Entering Contini’s world of impeccably crafted Judaica, you can’t help feeling that you’ve entered an artist’s sacred home. First you walk around the house, inhaling the aromas of orange groves and salty winds that you would find in Jaffa, Contini’s place of residence since 1967.
Perhaps you next notice a mezuzah on the doorframe. You quickly realize that it’s playing tricks with your eyes — leaning but not leaning, fixed yet amorphous. You may see the “Magen David” mezuzah, a Star of David emerging subtly around the parchment; the “Scroll,” two twisted; or the “Techno,” a modern, angular construction. These mezuzahs are made in small batches, as are all of Contini’s creations, so that each is a unique object and bears Contini’s distinguished signature. The “Scroll,” for example, is cast in bronze using classical techniques that are usually confined to sculpture.
Contini — second cousin of Nora Contini, associate publisher of j. — conceived of his original mezuzah designs just a few years ago. One of his signatures is to put the parchment on an incline, so the mezuzah can be hung straight but still fulfill the mitzvah.
Contini remains thrilled by the process of mezuzah-making. “I started as a scientist, studying nuclear engineering in Milan,” he says. He was intrigued by the mathematics of art and by “systems of religious art.”
As you continue into the house of Judaica, you might notice that Contini’s special menorah, made of block Hebrew letters spelling the word Chanukah, can be read from both sides. “I had to use very wide letters,” he says, happy to have solved the puzzle.
An almost kabbalistic concern with the geometry of Hebrew letters is what drew Contini to design the “Double-Sided Menorah.” “I noticed that the stems of the letters in Chanukah added up to eight candles,” he says, also noting proudly that he now has “eight beautiful grandchildren.”
The trompe l’oeils continue if you are lucky enough to get to sip from, or even just gaze upon, the Anamorphic Reflection Kiddush Sets, or ARKS, Contini’s definitive works. These familiar sets of cups and saucers have an elaborate twist — the sterling silver saucers are inscribed with seemingly abstract designs that take proper form only when reflected in the mirror-like surface of the Kiddush cup. The designs include everything from airplanes to cityscapes to the Kiddush prayer itself. A special “Magen David” design won the International Judaica Competition in 1996.
“Engraving is an ancient art,” says Contini, whose works can be viewed on his Web site, www.leocontini.com. Comfortable with many ancient metal-working techniques, he now provides a personalized, artistic genealogical service, which use family names as the saucer designs.
Some of Contini’s designs begin simply and scientifically (“watching light hit a beaker on a table”); some historically (“cylindrical anamorphism in eighteenth century France”), but he always looks for ideas, he says, “that you can generalize and apply to whatever you want — a human being, a flower.”