(Author: Naomi Jacobson, Vol. 67, No. 2, Rosh Hashanah 2012)
My grandfather was the famed Yiddish writer and scholar David Goldblatt, who is best remembered today for his two-volume Yiddish Encyclopaedia, written (amongst other publications) after his relocation to New York in 1915. He remained in South Africa long enough, however, to make his mark on the Jewish cultural and intellectual scene. With the help of his wife, Fanny Esther, he founded and ran Der Yiddisher Advokaat, a Cape Town-based Yiddish weekly that lasted from 1904 to 1914. He was amongst those centrally involved in the delegation to the Cape Parliament that was successful in getting Yiddish recognised as a European language.
David’s oldest child, Sarah (‘Saartjie’), likewise helped in getting a new language established in South Africa. At a very young age, she became the secretary of the famed C.J. Langenhoven, the poet, writer and advocate who authored Die Stem van Suid Afrika and is regarded as one of the fathers of the Afrikaans language. After his death, she became his literary executrix, a role she carried out with the utmost dedication. She was also renowned as a teacher of Afrikaans, teaching foreign diplomats amongst others and relentlessly putting them through their paces.
David and Fanny Goldblatt, originally from Poland, arrived in Cape Town in 1896. They had three other children, Rebecca, Reuben and my father, Israel. All their children were educated at the German school in Cape Town, as their father wanted them to learn the language which he himself had learnt and through which he had gained so much knowledge of great writers like Goethe.
Rebecca, my “second mother”, was bright as a button, sang beautifully and had a brilliant sense of humour. Because of her knowledge of German, she worked for the Censor’s Board during the Great War. I never knew Reuben, who died young in a car crash, and very little was told to us about him. Sarah, a die-hard Afrikaner nationalist, felt alienated from her more liberally-inclined family members and, being a rather hard, sometimes aggressive personality, was difficult to get close to.
My father arrived in Windhoek, South West Africa, in 1918, starting out as a public prosecutor. Later, he was admitted to the bar, where he had a long and distinguished career. My maternal grandparents, Reverend Mordecai Leib Cohen and his wife Sarah, arrived in Windhoek in 1924. Reverend Cohen was the first rabbi and opened the shul there shortly after his arrival. They had nine children, including my mother, Janet Ida. She met and married Israel that same year and they became an influential, dynamic couple, cultured, intellectual, sporty and fun. Israel was a brilliant lawyer, philosopher and writer. He started Windhoek’s first chess club and, with Janet, played tennis and golf. Later, he did much to help the African community in dealing with the legal strictures that so bedevilled their everyday lives, and he was regarded as a thorn in the side of the governments of the day. My mother was a leading member of most societies and started the city’s first old age home – the Werth te Huis, named after the administrator.
Israel and Janet had four children – myself (born in 1925), Michal, Karen and Lucian. They encouraged us to explore all kinds of avenues music, art, sport and literature. I am what I am today because of them.
We all attended St. Georges, a very English Anglican church school, thereafter attending a government school. There were all sorts of activities, from sports to a percussion band and elocution and dancing classes. As young children we had a private German nanny, and later an Afrikaans one, so we became thoroughly trilingual. At an early age, I became very interested in painting and other art subjects. I also loved singing and took part in all music and dancing events. Besides those activities, I played tennis and golf. I was a very precocious child – I still am. Michal married Hymie Goldblatt (no relation). In 1968, they immigrated to Israel, where Hymie worked as a doctor in Haifa. What a caring, sharing, grand couple they were! They, too, had four children. My younger sister, Karen, the youngest, married Werner Blum, with whom she had two children. She studied law and in due course became the second lady judge in South Africa and the first in Namibia. Lucian also became a lawyer, practicing first in Windhoek and then in Swakopmund. In the early years he was great fun, a fine sportsman and in later years what a dancer! He took life too seriously as he matured.
When war broke out in 1939, quite a lot of local Germans were interned, and some by then had even returned to Germany. The flags with swastikas were very obvious in Kaiser Street, and there was a very active Nazi party in the town. As we were young and had many German friends we were not aware of certain activities, except that many young men and boys fought up “North”. Some did not come back. In our home we had the wireless blaring forth day and night, even getting news from Germany (Zeesen was the name of the station).
After school, I studied at the Michaelis School of Art in Cape Town and had singing lessons with Al Bini Bini a well-known Italian musician. It was a sad time in many ways as the war was on and we lost quite a few friends. But I learnt so much – going to lectures, concerts etc. During this time, I met Larry Jacobson, a medical student. We married in early January 1947 and decided to go back to Windhoek. The country had excited Larry on two previous visits so, after three days and three nights on the train, we arrived “Home”. South West Africa, now Namibia, is a most fascinating country, large but not over-populated.
The ethnic groups comprised of Bushmen, Hereros, Damaras, Namas and Ovambo peoples. I was very interested in these people, whose customs, dress and physiques were so diverse, and started a lot of my speciality portraiture depicting them.
We were extremely lucky to be surrounded by people of such diverse backgrounds, all contributing to the excitement of a young country. As a family, we took full part in all that was going on. After World War I, by which time SWA was under South African control, Windhoek and some smaller towns built sports fields, established orchestras and a range of other cultural organisations, all quite amazing for a country where there were then only a few thousand white people and one million blacks.
After our arrival in 1947, Larry began looking for a practice and we landed up in Lüderitzbucht. I hated it. As my husband said, the wind blew only twice during the five years we were there – once for two years and once for three years. There were no trees, just Skeleton Coast desert, no fresh water and no fresh milk or vegetables. Sanitation was the bucket system up amongst the rocks. When my mother came to see me she cried – imagine a nice Jewish girl in a place like this! Our essentials were brought down by lorry. Our two children, Janine and David, were born there.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row] The author in Windhoek next to one of her sculptures, circa. 1970. Lüderitz was a very German town, as could be seen in the local architecture, the most beautiful German China glass on sale in the shops, the clothing people wore and so many other touches. There were only about 1500 white people and 3000 blacks. Our good friends were Wilfred and Molly Lubowski, whose son, Anton, was later assassinated by the government because of his political activities. Luckily, I spoke German. I started the Arts Association, dabbled in clay and plaster of Paris and gave lessons in English, Scandinavian embroidering and drawing. I loved the colours of the sand dunes, the sunsets and the semi-precious stones along the beach, called Agate Beach. Today, Namibia is a great tourist destination. I understand that it has a harsh climate, but there is so much to see. There are no words to describe the desert, the rocks, the mountains and the sheer openness of the country. I cannot say that I was sorry to leave Lüderitzbucht. Being so high spirited and excited about life in general, I had been stagnating at a still young age. A short spell followed in Umtata, Eastern Cape, where Larry went for a refresher course. It was heaven, moving from a very German to a very English environment. Certainly, it is one of the most beautiful parts of South Africa. It was there that my inspiration began to return. I joined the opera group and started sculpting and painting, sculpture being my main interest. Umtata was a small town, but very much alive. There was a wide array of different ethnic groups, whose art and craftwork were so colourful. On my return to Windhoek, I fixed up a studio and started sculpting in earnest. As I have said people, all people, interested me. One can take a photo, but working in clay or plaster in three dimensions is really to get to the inside of the person. It also enables the artist to spend time with those they are portraying, conversing with and learning all about them. One becomes a kind of psychologist after a while. You would be staggered to learn some of the things that sitters have confided to me! Larry was a modest, humble human being, quite opposite to me in many ways. He was completely devoted to his patients, expending a degree of time and effort on their behalf that contrasts strongly with the way the medical profession operates today. Often, he would send me patients who were depressed, bringing them into my art classes where we helped them to regain some confidence in themselves. I also used to help people who had been ill or injured get back the use of their hands by using clay. After our move to Johannesburg in 1973, Larry was in charge of looking after political detainees. It was a trying, often heart breaking time, but thank goodness they were so well treated by him. He wrote his own memoirs before his passing some seven years ago. When we moved to Johannesburg, I never dreamt that I would be accepted into the Golden City art scene, but with the friendship of Cecil Skotnes, Larry Scully and one or two others, my career soon took off. I knew that it was not going to be easy, but I really wanted to be a portrait sculptor. I was given an exhibition by Norma Wolfewitz, who had opened a gallery, and exhibited with an English painter. To my astonishment, I sold all fourteen of my Namibian ethnic heads. I now began getting regular commissions and never needed another exhibition. I had some wonderful exciting times, travelling to many parts in South Africa to do my subjects. After doing a portrait, I would always put down in writing my feelings about the work just done and the characters of the people depicted. The materials with which sculptors work vary. I was introduced to clay plaster of cement fondue, a metallic cement (it has a high aluminium content) from France, by Frank McWilliam in England. One of the top sculptors of the day, he was commissioned to do the head of the Herero Chief Hosea, to be placed in the United Nations building in New York. I was introduced to him by my father, and he became my mentor and great friend. He taught me so much and I met many interesting people through him. When I got home, I could not stop working. One of my main subjects was the Bushmen people, without whose art we would have no history of our forebears of tens of thousands of years ago. I learnt so much and had some glorious experiences with them. Anthropology is magical to me. I could easily have become an anthropologist, and also a palaeontologist. I read whatever I could lay my hands on regarding this, and as it turned out came to do the heads of Philip Tobias and Raymond Dart, two great world authorities in the field. These heads are now at the Medical School at Wits University. Philip and I remained dear friends until his passing earlier this year. Portraiture is the orphan of the art world but make no mistake, it is exciting and exhilarating. I did my work because I loved the interaction with the subjects, not for financial gain. I honoured the people I felt were of historical importance, and money could not buy that. I began receiving commissions from far and wide. When I was approached by Mangosuthu Buthelezi of the Zulu nation to do King Shaka, I was overjoyed. King Goodwill Zwelethini, members of the family and Buthelezi himself were constant visitors. The unveiling took place in 1979, the centenary of the Anglo Zulu War. There were many guests from the UK, and my heart was full being part of that historical event. I was then commissioned to do Lieutenant-Colonel Arthur Johnstone, Chief Scout of South Africa. This commission lead to a friendship I was extremely proud of. He was the Prior of St Johns, Lt-Col of the Transvaal Scottish Regiment and head of various mining companies. His wife, Irene, became one of my very dearest friends. The unveiling was a very rewarding experience, and as a result of that commission I went on to do busts of Lord and Lady Baden-Powell. Lady BP did not want to have herself sculpted, but was eventually inveigled to my home, and I did her as she was taping her life story. I did Lord BP from photographs. The busts were unveiled at the Cape Anglican Cathedral in a very solemn and emotional ceremony. Lord Baden-Powell A rather fun commission was of Sir Richard Luyt, Principal of the University of Cape Town. During the sitting, he related his wartime experiences and those from when he was Governor of Kenya. I had been told that Glenava, the Principal’s house, was haunted. While working, I saw a chair move. I looked up every so often, and the damn chair kept moving. I told Sir Richard that I knew the story about the house being haunted, whereupon he laughed, picked up the chair and released a turtle that had got jammed underneath it. So much for ghosts! Lord Baden-Powell The Bank of England commissioned a head of King Sobhuza of Swaziland from me. I can write a book about that experience. He spoke good English and when it was completed he suggested we unveil it privately one evening. This took place on his sweeping lawn, with just the king and I present. The author with her King Sobhuza head One day, I was contacted by Peter Haskins of Citicom wanting to know if I would please do the heads of Nelson Mandela, Walter Sisulu and Oliver Tambo. My shock and surprise can hardly be imagined. You cannot believe how lucky this country was to have been served by men of this calibre. There were others as well, but these three were true giants and they were now in my hands. The wonderful openness and memorable conversations we had as I worked are beyond words. Walter Sisulu, in my opinion, was the great man behind all that happened in South Africa. He was a happy, loving family man, and I knew his wife very well – we were friends. I also shared a very personal hour with Adelaide Tambo when Oliver died, and we cried together. He had written such a beautiful love letter to her before his death. Then came the larger-than-life statue of Steve Biko, commissioned by Donald Woods. The latter, a gregarious and genial man, was one of the most remarkable South Africans of his time. He was the editor of the East London Daily Dispatch, and after Biko’s murder, became the first private citizen to address the UN Security Council. He eventually fled South Africa and settled in the UK. Donald and the Biko family helped me enormously to make a sculpture worthy of Steve Biko’s stature. The statue is now in the main ‘piazza’ of East London and was unveiled by Nelson Mandela. Besides portraiture, I loved doing large birds – flamingos, cranes etc. – as well as buck. I was busy eight hours a day creating, listening to my music and eating Mars bars when I got hungry. Everything beautiful fascinated me. I became interested in other arts and crafts, like beading art, needlework, went to lectures on antiques, read histories and travelled overseas to learn about different cultures. I had an abundance of energy and really drove my husband to distraction. Oliver Tambo, by Naomi Jacobson As you will have gathered, I have always looked for ways and means to honour, teach and help others through ART. After a long day’s work, I would try and relax, listening to music while sewing, beading, reading and learning. I could not stop working and now, 87 years-old but still 21 in spirit, am as eager as ever to continue. There has never been a tomorrow in my life – it has always been today that counts. With my husband, Larry, working on the Biko statue Press report on unveiling of Steve Biko statue
APPENDIX:
Select works by Naomi Jacobson Portraiture
Alan Paton – University of Pietermaritzburg
Sir Richard Luyt – University of Cape Town
President Sam Nujoma of Namibia
Harry Oppenheimer – De Beers, Kimberley
President Museweni of Uganda
14 heads of the Randlords – Ernest Oppenheimer Recreation Hall
Colonel A Johnstone – head of Boy Scouts 1973
Lord and Lady Baden Powell – Boy Scout Headquarters
Sir Percy Fitzpatrick – The Johannesburg Zoo Chief Hosea Kutako – Chief of the Herero, Namibia
Professor Raymond Dart – University of Witwatersrand
Professor Philip Tobias – University of
Witwatersrand
Ian Player – Wilderness and Wildlife
King Sobhuza – Swaziland
Sir Seretse Khama – Botswana
Chief Jonathan – Lesotho
Chief Mangosuthu Buthelezi – for the Zulu Nation
Nelson Mandela, Walter Sisulu, Oliver Tambo – Robben Island
Nelson Mandela – a gift to Parliament by the
Guy Martin Trust
Life-Size Statues
Shaka Zulu for the Zulu Nation – Ulundi
Cetshwayo for the Zulu Nation
Makontwani for Lesotho – General of
Moshoeshoe
Steve Biko – City of East London
Chief Phatudi for Lebowa
San Bushman – Windhoek Museum
A tribute to women: ‘The Contessa’, a three metre-high sculpture, and “Gabriella’, a life-size nude study in bronze – Michelangelo Hotel, Johannesburg
Naomi Jacobson (neé Goldblatt) is a well-known South African portrait sculptor, specialising in portraiture mainly from live settings. Her commissioned works include busts of Nelson Mandela, Oliver Tambo, Walter Sisulu and King Shaka. She has also studied and sculpted the San Bushmen in Namibia, where she was born and where she lived and worked for many years. Many of her works today reside in local, international and private collections, and in addition she has created a number of sculptures of birds and buck for public fountains.
