Within the sprawling Cimitero Monumentale of Milan lies a place of quiet reflection, the Cimitero Ebraico. This Jewish cemetery, established in 1872, replaced three older cemeteries. It stands as a testament to the enduring presence of Jewish life in Milan, a community dating back to the Roman Empire. Cimitero Ebraico isn’t just a burial ground. It’s a “beth ha-chayim,” a “house of the living.” Here, the community connects with those who came before, finding solace and wisdom. The stones placed on graves, instead of flowers, are a powerful symbol. They recall both the deceased and the Jewish people’s origins, deeply connected to the arid landscapes of the desert. The cemetery’s design reflects both tradition and change. Common ground plots, covered in grass, hold simple, uniform tombstones. Family chapels, however, showcase diverse architectural styles, spanning different eras. Some deviate from strict Jewish tradition. As you explore the Cimitero Ebraico, you’ll discover monuments that speak volumes. The Finzi Monument, for example, depicts the resurrection of the flesh as envisioned by the prophet Ezekiel. Delicate Art Nouveau monuments and ornate symbols like the menorah, Solomon’s knot, and the Star of David adorn other graves. Prominent Milanese families from the late 19th and early 20th centuries rest here. Names like Treves (the publisher), Pisa, Vitali, and Finzi (bankers), and Giuseppe Levi (founder of the Levi night shelters) are etched in stone. At the heart of the Cimitero Ebraico stands the Hall of Ceremonies. Originally designed by Maciachini as the cemetery’s entrance, it now serves the Milanese Jewish community. Here, they hold religious services and funerals. Look up and admire the stained-glass windows by Milanese artist Diego Ardemagni. They reinterpret a work by Marc Chagall, depicting the twelve tribes of Israel. An altar, likely from 1920, and a ceremonial chair by sculptor Mario Quadrelli (1897) grace the interior. As you leave the Cimitero Ebraico, take with you the inscription on the Monument to the Jews who fell during the war. It reads, both in Hebrew and Italian, “Example of the centuries-old martyrdom suffered by the people of Israel for justice, liberty, and human brotherhood.” It’s a poignant reminder of the community’s resilience and the ongoing pursuit of a better world.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to