IN THE PRESENCE OF FIGURES By Samuel Bak At the Pucker Gallery 171 Newbury St. Through December 1

Samuel Bak lavishly paints the memory of the Holocaust through a cascade of painful hues and poignant images in In the Presence of Figures. His vision of history unveils the Jewish experience through the eloquent layering of a complex iconography subtly placed within his landscapes and portraits. Bak is not only the creator of breathtaking work, but also a survivor of the Holocaust. The themes and variations of his artwork reflect the inhumane environment which he endured. Born in the Polish city of Vilna (present day Lithuania) in 1933, Bak felt the presence of danger throughout his childhood. His drawings received attention as early as 1942, through an exhibition in the ghetto of his birthplace. Bak was nine years old at the time.

In the most recognized photograph from the Warsaw Ghetto in 1943, a little boy stands in the rubble, both hands raised in a blind surrender. His back shelters him from the view of a man with a gun, his shoulders suspecting his doomed fate. Bak was about the same age as this child pictured, and chose to honor in his paintings this image of all children sacrificed in the Holocaust. The little boy, the symbol of the universal purity of the heart, is the main subject of over 12 pieces in the exhibit, each time pictured in the same pose. The desensitization of humanity is reiterated when the boy covers himself with what seems like a shield decorated with a cross, but instead is a type of bullseye used as a target for the murdering of innocence (Rainbow Boy, 1997; Small Target, 1997). In The Star of Vilna, a ragged wooden fence has a hole cut in the shape of the boy, and through it one can see him standing. It is the boy's body--his two arms, two legs and head--which makes the five points of the Star of David. Bak shows that the representation of the Jewish people could not be completely encompassed with the yellow Star of David on a shirt, but rather delineates itself through each child and generation of the future.

There is a midrash (a legend) that explains, "the further you are from Sinai [the moment of revelation], the more you are diminished." Bak varies the notion of family lineage in From Generation to Generation through a series. An elder from the village of Vilna, gazes upon versions of himself, his body decreasing in size, each time preserving his old age. The ancestors bless their descendents but stare toward the earth, without joy or life. It is as if these men have always been old, but one cannot tell which man is the oldest. Each generation, now with the knowledge of the atrocities of the Holocaust, will continue to age with experience and the memory of an inexplicably violent set of moments in history. The largest image of the old man towers behind other generations, filling the background of the canvas. Yet he is separated from each new generation by a fence or brick wall. He could be the generation of revelation, greater in size, wiser through time.

In the haunting painting The Introduction to the Game, two older men hold a pawn before the eyes of a blindfolded, timid man. The mouths of the elders begin to explain the beginning and rules of the game. Some sets of Bak's work show pawns escaping from a toy horse, an allusion to a Trojan horse, only to win the game. The notion of a battle won by the supposed weaker player is an idea that radiates from these rare, passionate pieces of Bak's paintings. In Symposium, sagacious men discuss where to replant their tree which floats above, its roots emerging from an egg, its branches unseen. These prudent scholars consult sheets devoid of script, blank as the future.

It is the tree that is the most constantsubject in Bak's work. A prayer passages describesits importance: "It [the Torah] is a tree of Lifefor those who grasp it." Figures struggle to savethe trees; to save history and an uprooted people.Trees are carted through the landscapes, suspendedby string from an unknown origin, braced,nourished by rubber tubes and held by human arms.The trees find a way to grow again in each of thepaintings, even if by only one leaf, welcoming thebirds. This is the manifestation of Bak's vision;the song of hope of a new life.

Violins without strings are held in a playingposition by stone statues (Interlude,1998). In other instances, men hold bows as thesit away from a "haystack" of violins and play forthe Exercise of Memory (1998). OlivierMessian's "The Quartet for the End of Time,"inspired The Final Movement (1998) as itwas composed in the concentration camp. Fourmusicians sit adjacent to the ever-presentchimney. They are a reminder of the Jewishmusicians who were forced to play while newprisoners traveled to Auschwitz to perform forcedlabor or face immediate death. These men becomeswallowed by the tranquil landscape, readingnoteless sheet music, playing a soundless song.

The human body turning into stone, wood or acutout, as well as broken fences, severed treesand faulty instruments all symbolize destruction.Yet Bak counters each with the representation ofresurrection and reconstruction through plantedroots: wise elders, stars, doves and triumphantpawns. He speaks to us about what the heart canwithstand, learn and still survive, "I speak aboutdestruction and reconstruction--the amazing humanspirit."