Tzporah Breitman Lee A"H: A Life

 

This website commemorates the creative works of my beloved mother, Tzporah Breitman Lee, A"H (Aleha haShalom--Hebrew: "peace be upon her").

My dear mom was born on the Lower East Side of New York City, October 16, 1918 (10th of the Hebrew month of Cheshvan)—in the same house on Pitt Street where a girls' yeshiva sprang years later, as she loved to recall. My dear mom would tell me the old Yiddish mnemonic to remember the three adjacent streets:  "Ritt, Pitt, Villet in de mit “ (in the middle). The family eventually moved to Coney Island, Brooklyn, where they opened a strictly kosher delicatessen.

 

My grandfather, Alexander Ziskind Breitman, A”H, was a chazzan (cantor). Grandma, Hinda Raizel, A"H, was known by all as a true aishet chayil ("woman of valor") and tzedakas (righteous person). Though the family worked intensely hard and struggled to maintain the business, Grandma made sure to always set aside donations for tzedakah (charity). Many patrons would come to the delicatessen not only for the delicious food but also for a free “concert,” listening to my grandfather rehearse with his choir.

 

The family was very artistic, steeped in cantorial and classical music. My two uncles, Yaakov Chaim, A"H, and Joshua, A"H, and were quite gifted: Yaakov Chaim had such a nuanced ear that he would act as a “tuning fork” for my grandfather's choir.  Joe Joe, A"H, had dreamed of becoming a symphonic conductor. Sadly, the expectations of their talents were never realized.

 

At an early age, Tzporah, the baby of the family, displayed a profound propensity for art and music. Even as a child, she entertained company by dancing her own spontaneous creations. Friends and relatives urged my grandparents to hone her talents with professional lessons. However, due to strict dictates of Orthodox modesty, she was never enrolled in dancing school. My Mom recalled how, one day, Grandma nearly enrolled her in a dance school, walking with little Tzporah nearly up to the entrance, then - suddenly – reconsidered and turned around. Nevertheless, little Tzporah did receive piano lessons, despite the expense.

 

Grandma's sister, Aunt Rae (Needleman), a writer who also held a supervisory position in the Department of Labor in Washington, D.C., recognized her niece's budding artistic talents and bought her a paintbox kit complete with oils and brushes. For a short period, Tzporah attended a high school that offered classes in commercial art. However, as she would later learn, the regimented lessons and rules of commercial art would stymie her creativity in the fine arts.

 

As a young adult, Tzporah pondered a career in the theater, for she was equally proficient in dramatics. She even tried for a “part” and was well received. However, realizing that an actress’s life was improper for a religious woman, she left the theater, opting to become a painter. As she was to realize, her true love.

 

Eventually, Tzporah was introduced to Prof. Arnold Hoffmann (d. 1966), who took her under his tutelage. Though a non-Jew, he was best known for his anti-Nazi paintings, which were even featured in Israel and the National Museum of Prague. Prof Hoffmann had also been elected to the International Institute of Arts & Letters and the Royal Society of Arts in London. Tzporah was invited to the artistic and intellectual gatherings hosted by Prof. Hoffmann and his wife, Laura (who was Jewish).

 

Prof. Hoffman’s mentoring style was attuned to the Old-World great masters. He taught art, not only as a skill, but also as a philosophy. As my Mom related: The idea of "passion" pervades all aspects of life—including painting. One needs "passion" to fully attain the acme of expression, whether it be art, music, or literature...whatever a person sets out to do, no matter how seemingly mundane.

 

In time, Tzporah developed her own fluid painting style, ripe with vibrant color, yet imbued with calm sensitivity. Eventually, her own Manhattan studio became the scene of professional gatherings—artists musicians, writers. Her work was even discussed in Carnegie Hall.

 

During her period as the truly typical "starving artist," my Mom met and married Avrom Andrey. After seven years of marriage, she miraculously gave birth to a girl. Doctors had warned her that bearing a child would be fatal. But Tzporah did not care; she only desired a namesake for her righteous mother, Hinda Raizel, who had died without any grandchildren. The birth occurred with both mother and daughter in good health. The baby was named Hindishe, after her grandmother (following the Ashkenazic Jewish custom of naming children after deceased relatives, especially parents).

 

When Hindishe was two years old, life turned a painful twist. The marriage had become abusive, and Tzporah, concerned for the welfare of her child, realized she must leave. Forced to abandon her studio in New York City and most of her life's work, she moved to the Catskill Mountains in Upstate New York. Living alone with a small child, fighting off antisemitism, remaining Orthodox in "the country"—all this was a test of internal strength and faith in G-d.

 

Obtaining kosher meat was sometimes impossible. The harsh winters meant frequent inability to reach a store for food. Nevertheless, Tzporah’s main concern was for her little daughter—sacrificing food for her, sleeping on the couch to give  her a bedroom (if the current apartment they resided in had one). Poverty, worry, aggravation, and the paucity of art supplies—all forced her beloved painting to fall by the wayside. But if she could paint on cardboard with a worn-out brush composed of just a few bristles – she would paint!

 

In 1973, another turn of fate found Tzporah in Jersey City, NJ, where she slowly returned to her art, although economic hardship still prevailed. After years of suffering, Tzporah saw to it that Hindishe graduated from elementary and high school yeshivas, all the way through Stern College for Women (Yeshiva University) and Columbia University.

During her last three years, Tzporah grew feeble, until she could no longer leave the studio apartment shared with her daughter. Barely able to walk through the hallway, she clutched Hindishe for support. During the final two years, Tzporah did receive three commissions, all received by patrons with outstanding approval. No longer strong enough to stand at her easel, Tzporah would sit on the broken convertible couch (that served in lieu of a bed), canvas propped against pillows on the coffee table, pallet in her left hand, and painted!

November 15, 2009 (17th of the Hebrew month of Cheshvan), the last time my dear mother would light candles to usher in the Holy Shabbos, was the saddest day of my life, when my dear Mom departed this world at the age of ninety years and one month. A few days earlier, weak as she was, she had expressed how much she still wanted to paint. My mother died not only as an Orthodox Jew, but as a True Artist.

During shiva, the Jewish week of mourning, everyone who viewed my mother's paintings on the walls of our studio apartment were stunned by the array of colors and warmth of her style.

This short biography cannot do justice to the remarkable events – some incredibly miraculous - experienced by my cherished Mom in her life.

Since I have no family left, when it is my time to go, I sincerely hope and pray for my darling Mom's work to be preserved and appreciated. This website is dedicated to safeguarding her work for the world to witness her genius.

 

Hindishe Lee

July 4, 2023