Stories of Holocaust stitched into history

'July 1942. My father had been collecting pine tar for a local landowner when the Gestapo ordered my brother Ruben to report to Janiszew Labor Camp. My mother pleaded with my father to go in my brother's place, crying that he would not survive after his recent recovery from Typhoid. My father said that neither one of them would go, and took my brother into the forest with him. They had built a hut for themselves, where they slept and worked. For the rest of that summer, my mother would bring food to them, and sometimes I would go with her.' – Esther Nisenthal Krinitz, 'Janiszew Prison Camp,' 1996, embroidery on linen Art and Remembrance.

'This was my family on the morning of October 15, 1942. We were ordered by the Gestapo to leave our homes by 10 a.m. to join all the other Jews on the road to Crasnik Railroad Station and then to their death.' – Esther Krinitz, 'Ordered to Leave Our Homes,' 1991, embroidery on linen Art and Remembrance.

'June 1943, in Grabowka. While I was tending the garden I had planted, two Nazi soliders appeared and began to talk to me. I couldn't let them know that I could understand them, so I just shook my head as they spoke, Dziadek, the old farmer who had taken me in as his housekeeper, came to stand watch nearby, but the honey bees rescued me first, suddenly swarming around the soldiers. 'Why aren't they stinging you?' The soldier asked Dziadek as they ran out of the garden.' – Esther Nisental Krinitz, 'The Bees Save Me,' 1996, embroidery on linen Art and Remembrance.

'Coming to America, June 10, 1949, we arrived in New York. Max's cousin Clara came aboard the ship to greet us. As our daughter Brasia slept in her father's arms, Clara said to her, 'my dear child, this will be your America!' – Esther Nisenthal Krinitz, 'Coming to America,' 1996, embroidery on linen Art and Remembrance.

'This is my husband, Max Krinitz, as he was in 1949, just before we left Belgium for America. Max was born on January 30, 1949, and died on October 6, 1998.' – Esther Nisenthal Krinitz, 'My Husband Max Krinitz,' 1999, embroidery on linen Art and Remembrance.

'The summer you were 3 years old, dear Mami Sheine, grandma came to visit you. We went to a park where you discovered a huge tree. I never forgot the expression on your face as you stood there admiring the tree. Grandma loves you so much.' – Esther Nisenthal Krinitz, 'Granddaughter,' 1999, embroidery on linen Art and Remembrance.

Growing up in Poland in a Jewish family, Esther Nisenthal Krinitz and her sister Mania were the only members of their family to survive the Holocaust. Through needlework, Krinitz shared her experiences and documented the loss and sadness that swept through Poland during World War II.

Krinitz started creating tapestries when she was 50 years old. Thirty-six of her tapestries will be on display at the Columbus Museum of Art this spring.

In a 1998 interview with filmmaker Lawrence Kasdam, Krinitz described the events that tore her family apart. Her family and friends were being evacuated from their homes by Nazi soldiers, but she chose to go stay with a farmer for refuge rather than go with her family, all of whom were eventually killed at a concentration camp.

“I said, ‘I’m not going.’ My father became mute — he couldn’t talk,” Krinitz said, expressing how frightened her father was..

Though Krinitz died in 2001, her memory lives on in her artwork and a short documentary film titled “Through the Eye of the Needle,” which includes the 1998 interview. Both will be shown at the CMA.

“Esther’s story of courage and remembrance is extremely moving. The fact that creative means were used to tell her story, especially by someone who did not consider herself an artist, is also profoundly moving. There are lessons in it for all of us,” Suzanne Silver, an associate professor of art said in an email.

Silver said she was able to see Krinitz’s artwork in Baltimore several years ago.

“Esther Nisenthal Krinitz’s stitched narratives provide texture — the physical texture of thread and fabric and the psychological texture and layered depth of her family’s plight,” Silver said. “It is a document of a time of horror and inhumanity. It was probably also a cathartic act for Krintiz. A way to remember and to attempt to recover from such a trauma.”

CMA curator of education Carole Genshaft said Krinitz’s work is honest and unexaggerated.

“They’re just the way she remembered it, so they’re really a very truthful and honest glance, and very personal depiction into what exactly happened to people during the Holocaust,” Genshaft said. “Each one she carefully stitched to tell what each part of the story is about, so there’s actually words on each of the pieces.”

Krinitz’s daughter, Bernice Steinhardt, will give a public lecture April 12 about her mother’s artwork.

Genshaft said there are various sections of the exhibition that explore the subjects of Poland before Nazi occupation, during the occupation, Krinitz hiding, her liberation and Jewish holidays through Krinitz’s tapestries. One of her tapestries depicts her family the morning they were forced out of their home. Another is a portrait of her husband before they left for America.

Genshaft said the tapestries show great detail, depth and texture.

“I think it’s a very important exhibition, because it’s the experience of this woman who was able to survive the Holocaust,” Genshaft said.

The exhibition opens Friday and will continue through June 14.