This collects the paintings, all 16” by 20”, which formed a 1700 sq. ft. installation, to illustrate all 613 mitzvot (“commandments,” good deeds enjoined upon Jews to enact). Rand, a child of the 1950s, in garish comic strip hues (some of these evoke not only pulp paperbacks and comics, but for me “Bazooka Joe” slips of strips inside bubble gum) blends boldly his impressionistic splashes from feverish, dreamy, lustful, or nightmare scenarios. His febrile tone captures New York's low-rent, street-sassy, postwar pop-cult, as an elder recollects its impacts on his formative youth, filtered woozily as sleazy mass-market entertainment. A lot of what I see within reminds me of a hangover.
He credits corresponding with R.B. Kitaj; certainly, that blunt style hammers into Rand’s oeuvre, along with non-conformist contemporaries. Plus intellectual mentors such as Lenny Bruce, taking Torah truths to Gentile audiences; Kafka’s envisioning of terrors; and figurative contortions, leerings, distortions, cartoons, caricatures all play walk-on roles. As Rand reasons, the Jewish prohibitions against images can be overruled by the command (one of those enumerated within) to “write a Torah” or for him, to dramatize these injunctions from Exodus, Leviticus, and Deuteronomy, before us contemporaries. Not all matches of verses and depictions will immediately make sense. And I like that, for this speaks to the mysterious, meta-rational, nature embedded in Rand’s interpretations from lurid imagination. There’s witty wisdom.
This shuffles a quirky and thought-provoking ensemble. An ideal gift for someone who scoffs at these teachings as outmoded, nitpicking, irrelevant, or superstitious. It could generate both discussion in a study group or book club, inspire a bat or bar mitzvah student, slap up a snooty secularist, and nudge a skeptic towards a Tanach.
However, Rand should have, could have, elucidated better his aims. His preface--albeit chock-full of shout-outs to the predictable array of predecessors from the last century who shocked the bourgeoisie--leaves any viewer--in our chastened, media-saturated, censorious yet earnestly eager to shatter any remaining moral constraints to self-indulgence, hedonism, and unfettered greed-- coming away with an attitude of "he's another guy from the Big Apple trying to sound like a Bensonhurst cool cat from the Beat generation" rather than an articulate guide to his intentions.
Not that any artist must reduce to words his inner vision. But this one keeps his snappy, self-aware prose loose and Beat-like, too elusive in key passages to assist those left with grappling with these disorienting glimpses from Rand's subconscious goads.
Additionally, as a stickler on language and translation, why not show from where these passages originate? As Hebrew notoriously eludes easy rendering into demotic English three thousand years from its foundations in the bible, even terse utterances can't depend upon an uncredited mediator.
So, this anthology leaves us with a heap of enduring puzzles. One could use these paintings as meditation. For the “meaning” of Jewish texts, the Talmud teaches, perdures on a literal level, next in the guise of hints, then divulging from one’s conceptions on what’s revealed, finally a hidden, mystical enigma. Kabbalah similarly leaps by multi-branched embodiment of messages. For visual learners, Rand’s creative acts further will goad us to ponder.