Sareed: The Life and Times of Samuel Markitante, Painter-Sculptor

By Bruce Krain

Samuel Markitante, a gifted artist, escapes religious persecution in Russia and takes refuge in Paris. When the Nazis occupy France he finds himself in even greater peril. Facing almost certain death his faith and his talent combine to make him a survivor. He finds a new life and a new adventure in America.

As a child the author listened to Markitante’s stories...memories of those stories inspired this work. Markitante’s paintings exist today in private collections and museums around the world. Examples are shown on the website at http://sareedthebook.com.

The term Sareed, Hebrew for survivor, is used primarily to identify survivors of the Holocaust.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bruce Krain
• Release date: Nov 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370138166

Bruce Krain

Memories will fade but words can live forever. In his revealing book, SAREED, Bruce Krain shares his memories of Samuel Markitante.Mr. Krain began his formal education at the Pennsylvania Academy of fine Arts and went on to earn degrees from St. Josephs College and Villanova University.

Book preview

Preface

The Art of Survival

Samuel Markitante beat all the odds. Alone and adrift in a world at war he refused to be broken. A gifted artist, his talent and his faith combined to make him a survivor.

Travel with Markitante to Paris in his flight to escape the perils of the Russian Pogroms. Follow him to the Mediterranean and the royal palace at Monaco. Suffer his ordeal at the hands of the Nazis and celebrate his miraculous survival. Join him on his voyage to America and trace his steps across the United States to his final destination, California in the 1960’s.

His story reveals the cause and effect of events that changed our world and demonstrates how economics drove policy, perspective and opinion. It confronts the ignorance, prejudice and cruelty that cast a dark shadow on mankind and urges us never to forget.

This work is inspired by stories I loved to hear as a child, told by my Grandfather, Nathan Krain, and my Uncle, Samuel Markitante.* Boyhood friends in a world that vanished long ago, they often told very different versions of the same events. Their stories have given me a sense of who and what I am. Our lives are connected by a great deal more than the common strands of DNA we share. There’s always an ingredient in the soup you can’t quite put your finger on.

I asked why these stories were sometimes so different and Markitante replied, If you don’t tell your own story, someone will tell it for you and it may not be to your liking. We all see the world differently. Rest assured Uncle Markitante, I have made every effort to tell this story your way!

* Although I called him my Uncle, Markitante was my Grandfather’s second cousin.

Chapter One

First Memories

Markitante wakes and speaks of a recurring dream, The building is cold and everything is still. The others seem to be sleeping, but it’s too dark to be certain. We sleep on straw, huddled together like animals, breathing heavily. I peer through a space between the floorboards and the wall trying to make out the buildings and the fence I know are outside. It must be close to dawn as a faint light is beginning to reveal the prison yard. Now I can make out the figure of a man walking toward the fence. Walking, not running or crawling, just walking with a sense of determination but without urgency or stealth. The dogs began to shriek and howl and the guards cry out. The man continues to walk at the same pace, seemingly unaware of the impending pursuit. The dogs lock their jaws on his ankles and knock him to the ground tearing his clothing and flesh. His will to survive has vanished. Often when I sleep these images invade my dreams.

Markitante often spoke of his life and dreams. He dreamed about the past and his hopes and fears for the days ahead. He drew no clear lines between the past, present and future. He always left open space for imagination, as he did in his paintings. In his final years he would routinely paint, nod off for a few moments, wake and speak his mind. He would then continue to paint without further explanation.

He was a part of my immediate family as I grew up. He and my grandfather were childhood friends in a world that vanished long ago; their stories of that world live on. Markitante shared memories with my father he seldom spoke of to others. Their relationship was very strong and those accounts were powerful and revealing. An artist shows us the world by creating images of his perception. Often the images are very subjective personal expressions. Markitante’s words painted his life story in much the same way.

As he grew old and his health declined he continued to paint every day, but he did so with great difficulty. His eyesight was failing and his strength diminished. His work left no doubt he perceived the world like a child again. He was excited by the forms, color, and light that surrounded him, as if he were seeing everything for the first time. He would close his eyes and speak of his first memories, the first images he remembered of his childhood.

He is a child. His mother, Manya, is working side by side with the servants in their kitchen. The servants are very close, like family, as dear and connected as blood relations. His mother is very beautiful, delicate and loving. She is small and slender, but has great physical strength and loves the arts. She is a talented pianist, and although she had no formal education, as a girl she was home schooled in art, literature and the social graces. She is polishing their brass candelabra, a weekly routine on the eve of each Sabbath. The candelabra is of typical Russian design with two lionesses, each supporting a candle holder, facing one another, paws outstretched, hind legs braced against the base, extended forelegs clawing a central candle holder. The detail of the animals is worn thin by repeated polishing. His father identified lions as fierce animals that live deep in the reaches of the forest, dominating all other creatures with great strength and cunning. His father said, "Lions are the standard of King David, biblical warrior King of the Jews, who slew Goliath as a youth and led his people to dominance of the holy land. Markitante would draw the candelabra repeatedly. The images he created seemed alive with the lions’ power and nobility. It was natural to him, even as a child, to capture the essence of a subject, and he was compelled to draw the same object again and again until satisfied with the result. He told me repetition never seemed tedious. Markitante would say, I never tired of the effort; it brought me great joy and contentment."

As his mother polishes the candelabra she directs the cook and the cook’s daughter in the preparation of the Sabbath meal and the meals for the following day, as there would be no housework after sunset and on the morrow. God created heaven and earth in six days and rested on the seventh. In observance of creation they set aside their less demanding activities for the day and give thanks for their existence and their universe. As often as possible his father, Maurice, returns home before sunset to light the Shabas candles and say the blessings with the family.

His mother, a gentle, sweet woman commands respect. She says, "Samuel, please sit up straight and take your elbows off the table, boys with manners take pride in how they present themselves. You must have better manners to make us proud of you. You do want me and your father to be proud, don’t you? Mother has a way of asking questions that make the answers appear self-evident. She says, You want us to be proud? You want to please God? You want to grow big and strong? She manages to make him feel he wants to do as he is told, he believes, It would be foolish to do otherwise. She gets her points across in positive ways, and seems so very wise. His father is an influence as well, but does so in a different way; he makes his point known by example. His father speaks, It was a wonderful day. Today I helped bring a new life into the world, and everyone did just fine. His Father smiles broadly, you can see how much he loves his work. Markitante is certain his father is every bit as excited as the baby’s father must be. His Mother asks excitedly, Maurice, was it a girl or a boy, was the baby beautiful? His Father beams and says, It was a filly and she was so beautiful she took my breath away. She was on her feet within minutes of birth! His Mother is taken by surprise, she exclaims, It was a horse! I thought you were talking about a baby girl. The lesson is clear, every life is of the utmost importance to father; he has great respect and cares deeply for all of God’s creatures. Markitante understands and feels the same connection, he comments, All living things are God’s creations."

There are times as a child when Markitante’s sleep is disturbed by loud voices and pounding on the front door, followed by the sounds of movement through the house and stable. At first this frightens him but soon becomes commonplace and familiar. As a doctor his father is often called upon in the middle of the night to come to the aid of neighbors. When father realizes little Samuel is fearful, he makes a point of coming to the bedside, placing his hands on his son’s forehead and reassuring him that all is well before leaving. Markitante shares this memory with deep emotion. He says, "Even now, I sometimes wake in the night and remember his gentle touch and soothing voice, as if he were just at my bedside."

Very much the artist, Markitante describes the world of his childhood to me in graphic terms, "Winter comes early each year, cold and harsh and beautiful. Snow transforms the landscape for the long winter and refuses to leave until it recedes into a sea of mud in late spring. Most of the year the primitive roads surrounding our town are blanketed with deep snow or rutted and mud bogged. Somehow father always reaches his destination and returns in his small horse drawn cart without incident. He is the only trained physician in the region, tending both our neighbors and their livestock."

His is a privileged life. His father’s profession and interest in academics give the family both status and modest wealth, and his mother’s love of music and the arts bring exposure to a world much larger than their small town. Although his father is fiercely loyal to the Tzar and grounded in what remains a feudal system, the world is changing rapidly and he capitalizes on the new opportunities these changes bring. The town of Odessa his father frequents is attracting many different groups of immigrants, and the influence of their customs and cultures is unavoidable.

Markitante Speaks, "The countryside around our town is harsh and beautiful. He seemed to turn his eyes inward as he remembers and describes the landscape. He continues, The sky is expansive, changing from season to season, day to day, moment to moment, as fluid as a fast moving stream at times, as still as a painted scene at others. In the winter the landscape is black and white and shades of gray, always the gray tones have a cold cobalt hue. Deep snow and ice cover the countryside for the long winters and the streams and creeks are solid with ice. The light is clear, brilliant at times, often the sky is tinted with yellow, orange and red as the light of day fails. The gradual rolling hills and uneven paths and roads are heavily textured and what little vegetation is visible above the snow and ice appears lifeless and bland. The out buildings and small farm houses that dot the countryside are weathered and colorless, and most of the roofs are thatched and shaped in the bochka style to shed heavy snowfalls. Those animals that are in the fields are mostly squat and have heavy frames, steam pours from their mouths and nostrils. These are not the graceful, well-proportioned animals depicted in the books and artwork in my home. These animals are shaped by the harsh conditions they endure. The same is true of the people here. Their faces are pale and weather-beaten; most are short with heavy frames and their clothing is as drab as their surroundings. Although life is often a struggle, their eyes are bright and expressive and show a fierce pride. These are a strong determined people."

Spring and summer transform the landscape blanketing the hills and forms that emerge from the snow cover in endless shades of greens and blues. Bright outbursts of color, reds and yellows and violets appear, at first limited, later all encompassing. As summer comes to a close, deep colors give way to browns and earth tones. Leaves take on fall colors; transforming the images of the trees they cling to, then color the ground before decay merges their form and color into the soil. More than once Markitante makes a point of saying, "I often capture a scene in one season, and return to the same scene in a different season to make another work. I am fascinated by the visual changes of the seasons and document them throughout my life."

As a small child he plasters his work on the walls of his family’s home, and soon covers almost every conceivable space. His Mother and Father resist this intrusion at first, but eventually recognize him as gifted and allow great latitude. His Father encourages him to pursue science as a profession, but recognizes young Samuel’s talents and passion for the arts, and eventually permits him great latitude to develop his God given abilities.

Although he has seven siblings, three brothers and four sisters, he seems to have no memories of them to share. They are much older and their interests are in music and science, not the visual arts. For some reason memories of his boyhood friend, and second cousin, Nathan, are often recounted. As I think back now, I wonder if the absence of stories about his siblings stems from his loss of them during the war. Our minds can form a wall to protect us from hurtful memories. Like Markitante, Nathan was a survivor of the pogroms, perhaps that accounts for his prominence in these first memories. As children, Markitante and Nathan explore their Town and the surrounding woods imagining themselves to be soldiers, great hunters and adventurers. Nathan has no interest in the arts and seems an unlikely companion, but they connect as comrades in the simple pursuit of boyhood fun and freedom.

Their friendship leads to Markitant’s acceptance by other children and inclusion in games and sporting activities. Markitante remembers, "We gathered in spring with the first warm weather for games of Lapta. How exhilarating it was after a long harsh winter to be outside when the weather would break and the air would become mild and balmy. Nathan has little time for play, like most of the other children he must care for the livestock and gardens that provide most of his family’s livelihood. Markitante also helps with family chores, but has much more time to pursue other activities. He is obligated to study religion and academics, but never gives these subjects more time than absolutely required. Often when he should be studying his interest turns to the illustrations in his reading materials. The religious illustrations in particular are a never-ending source of information. From these drawings he extracts his first understanding of the rules of perspective, creating depth in his work, and shading to form shapes. He learns to use the space between objects to guide his hand and eye to see what is unique to each subject. Markitante explained, I came to feel a kinship with the illustrators. Perhaps to them religion was a means to an end, a pathway to their real interest, which was art for its own sake. At the same time it seems faith and belief in religious principals was very important to their work. Expression and belief are intertwined. Truth and beauty exist in tandem as manifested in nature, yet our perception of everything we view is colored by our faith. I was only able fully understand his point years later when I became an art student. He would say, Art is a form of expression, I use my craft to speak my mind, and often discover many things about myself in the process."

Sometimes in the summer months his family travels to a place on the Black Sea near Odessa. There they spend time walking on the beaches and visiting extended family and friends. They visit places with fine homes and shops; some of the streets are paved with stones and illuminated with gaslight at night. They see many people with fine clothes and elegant carriages. Along the beaches Markitante finds shells and the remains of curious sea creatures. Vegetation unlike any he has seen before floats on the surf and collects on the beaches. And the light! He spoke almost reverently of it. He said, "The light is clear and bright and reflects off the water and sand in brilliant displays. The sky extends to the horizon over the water much like the ceiling of a cathedral, and at night, when it is clear, sets off the stars brighter and in greater numbers than in the countryside. When it is inclement, mist and fog soften the seascape and blend the colors to deep subtle shades."

On these holidays his parents sometimes attend concerts at the great hall in Odessa. He sees the Academy of Painting and Sculpture near the concert hall, with its elegant exterior staircase, Roman columns and massive portico, and dreams he will someday return there to study.

Chapter Two

The Black Earth

Outside Markitante’s comfortable childhood home, life is nothing short of a day-to-day struggle for survival. His father, Maurice, lives in two worlds; his privileged world and the harsh world of ordinary people where Nathan and Nathan's father Rubin reside. Although Maurice and Rubin are very different men, in many ways they are the same. They are defined by a common denominator that unites them; they are "Muzhiks, the Russian term for common man, defined simply as man". Beyond this they are friends and family. They sit stage center for the final act of the story of a disappearing culture.

The breadbasket of the Russian Ukraine, the "Black Earth Belt, stretches from western Ukraine eastward, where it narrows and merges into Siberia. Muzhiks have farmed this fertile land for centuries. Sadly, there always seem to be shortages, hardship and starvation. The black soil here is among the richest in the world, but grain production often falls short, giving rise to frequent shortages and eventually the great Russian Famine of 1891". Poor weather, medieval farming techniques and ill-advised grain exports by uninformed government officials conspire to exacerbate the crisis. Famine causes a great deal of damage and suffering that goes well beyond starvation. It weakens the physical condition of people and brings about wide-spread disease and sickness. It topples established order; educations are suspended public works come to a standstill, sanitation declines. As the economy suffers, people lose their homes and are often forced to migrate. Perhaps worst of all, innocent children suffer deeply, extending adverse consequences of the tragedy well into the future. This in turn leads the way to great political instability, and sadly in this case, Anti-Semitism. Markitante and Nathan are both products and victims of this harsh environment.

The people here farm the land, as they have for centuries, in the "Open field System". Outside of the towns, large tracts of land are farmed communally. The fields are enclosed with temporary fences during the growing and harvest seasons to keep livestock and wildlife at bay. At other times the fences are withdrawn to allow livestock to feed on the remnants of the harvest and to fertilize the earth. Families share the fields; each has its designated rows. Everyone grows and harvests the same crops at the same time. They work in parallel. The weather is harsh, and the growing season is short. Planting and harvesting must be accomplished on a compressed schedule, so the people camp out in the fields and work though every hour of daylight. They work until it becomes so dark it is impossible to go on.

Maurice has been in the fields all day, tending to the sick and treating a few work injuries, but he’s mostly here to check on and treat the horses. Horse power is essential to food production and transportation. The care and maintenance of the animals is vitally important. With his duties behind him, he joins Rubin and his family for dinner around the campfire.

Everyone is here, farming is a family business, and Sarah, Nathan’s mother, has prepared a simple meal of beet borscht with cabbage and black bread baked on a makeshift stone hearth. The meal is served in a single bowl with strong tea. Even the children drink tea, milk is not an option in