Interview by Rabbi Yonassan Gershom
Over the years, I have met many Jews who bought a B’nei Or tallis simply because it is beautiful, without realizing that there is a ‘legend in the making” behind this robe of rainbow light.
The story of the Bnei Or Tallit
The story begins many years ago, when Reb Zalman was meditating on the Midrash: “How did G-d create the world? He wrapped Himself in a robe of light, and it began to shine.’ Suddenly Reb Zalman had a beautiful inspiration, almost a vision, of a prayer shawl woven in vibrant rainbow colors. It was radical – and it was beautiful!
Reb Zalman’s very first colored tallis was made in the 1950’s from an Anderson clan tartan. It was very nice, but he still preferred stripes, not only because this is traditional, but also because he somehow sensed that it should have bands of color, like a spectrum. (Reb Zalman later presented this plaid tallis to a Scottish convert named Anderson.) Other experiments included embroidering colors on a regular tallis, or appliqued stripes, and with each new design the rainbow vision became clearer.
Around 1961 or so, the present design was ready for the weavers. But in those days, tallis makers were all very Orthodox people who were not about to participate in this “crazy idea.” Reb Zalman trekked from one Brooklyn manufacturer to another, but was flatly refused. ‘What is this you want? A Purim tallis?” one pious old Hassid asked at the Munkatcher tallis factory. “Is this some kind of new sect or something?”
But the design Reb Zalman envisioned was far from being a ‘clown tallis.’ Each of the colors, as well as the width and arrangement of the stripes themselves, was based on the seven lower sephirot of the kabbalistic Tree diagram.
In 1983 Reb Zalman explained it to me this way:
Gershom: So, you had in mind that the ‘robe of light’ mentioned in the Midrash, that G-d wraps Himself in to create the world, is the spectrum, that it is literally the Primal Light?
Zalman: Right. And the “spectrum itself has black lines, too, like you see on a spectroscope. Once I started to see it. I asked myself the question, which ones should have black lines? I saw the black lines as a keli, a ‘vessel of creation.’ So which of the sephirot need to be contained? Certainly not Gevurah and Malchut, because they themselves ARE vessels. On the other hand, Tiferet and Yesod need strong ego-boundaries. Then there was the question of which stripes should be wider, and how they should be spaced. So it comes out like this: The atarah (neckband) of the tallis is Keter, the Crown, the Source of the White Light, which is into Chochmah-Binah (still white), and then enters Chesed (Lovingkindness or Grace), which is the wide purple stripe.
Gershom: There are two shades of purple. Why is that?
Zalman: Because it represents Beresheet, ‘in the Beginning,’ the First Day of Creation. So the deep purple represents ultra-violet, just coming out of darkness. If you have seen ‘black light lamps, they have that deep purple color. The lighter lavender already has some light mixed in, the first light becoming visible to the human eye And the whole stripe is very wide, because the nature of Chessed is broad and sweeping. Which is also why it needs the black lines to contain it. Now the next stripe is techelet-blue, representing Gevurah (strength or rigor.) This stripe represents the Second Day of Creation, when the ‘water above’ was separated from the ‘water below’ And since Gevurah is by nature a container [because it also represents halachah, or law], it doesn’t need the black stripes bordering it. Following the Creation story, the next stripe is the Third Day. Vegetation was created then, represented by green. G-d also said ‘It is good,’ twice on that day, so there are two green stripes, with the white light of Keter coming through the middle. Tiferet needs a vessel, so there are also the black lines. Next comes Netzach, the Fourth Day, when the sun, moon, and stars were created, so they are represented by yellow. The Fifth Day was when egg-laying animals were made: all the fish, reptiles, birds, and insects. So I represented the sephirah of Hod with orange, like egg yolks. Notice also that Hod and Yesod are very close together, almost like one stripe, and that they are mirror images of each other. You can’t really separate them. In fact, people confuse which is which, and there’s a lot of disagreement, some systems interpreting them exactly opposite of other systems…
Gershom: I see you’ve designed them very close together, almost like one stripe, but there is still some white light coming through between them. Like Aaron and Moses. Aaron does the form of the ritual and also channels the blessings. Moses gives laws but also receives revelation. Each has both active and passive elements, like the left and right brain, but more balanced, more integrated. That’s why you can’t really separate them, right?
Zalman: Right. Now, the red stripe is Yesod (Foundation), which can also represent Ego, so naturally it needs a very strong vessel to contain it. And because the placental mammals were created on the Sixth Day, this one is red, for the blood of life. And last of all, we come to Malchut, the Kingdom, which is Earth, represented by brown, because all things turn brown and return to the earth when they die. King David is also associated with Malchut, not only because he was a king, but also because he receives everything and has nothing of his own – not even his life. There’s the Midrash that the first Adam gave 70 years of his life to David, so that David’s very life came from Adamah, the earth. Thus the brown color.
The Bnei Or pattern takes shape
So, the pattern kept coming through clearer and clearer, and the quest for a weaver continued outside the Orthodox community. The very first tallis in the Bnei Or pattern was made from reindeer wool by a woman in New Haven, Connecticut. This was lovely, but Reb Zalman still was not completely satisfied, because the cloth came out more like a blanket than a prayer shawl, and it hung rather stiffly. The search went on…
Then while visiting Montreal, Reb Zalman looked in the phone book and found the listing of Karen Bulow, Vetements Religieux – a Christian vestment company? Would they be willing to do it? After a brief conversation over the phone, Reb Zalman ran ecstatically into the street and hailed the first taxi cab! Yes, they could make it, but he would have to buy five of them, because it wasn’t worth setting up the loom for only one. ‘Of course, yes, I’ll gladly take five!’ he said with delight. At last the original talleisim were woven: Reb Zalman got one, Abraham Joshua Heschel got one, Everett Gendler got one, Arthur Green got one… And the fifth tallis? I don’t know. Perhaps it belongs to all of us, because these five talleisim opened the door for Jews everywhere to begin personalizing their prayer shawls and expressing their own visions of Jewish spiritual renewal.
A few months later, Reb Zalman was hired as ‘religious environmentalist” at a Ramah summer camp. So here was this Lubavitcher Hasid, combing the Manhattan garment district for colorful remnants, especially scraps with stripes and bright colors, so that he could teach Jewish kids how to make their own tallaysim! With a rented sewing machine and a trunk full of cloth under his bunk, he set up his “tallisarium,’ the very first grassroots do-it-yourself prayer- shawl-making venture. Years passed, and those Jews taught other Jews, who taught still others.
Reb Zalman never copyrighted his design, so that eventually it was picked up and produced by a tallis factory in Israel, marketed as the Joseph’s Coat tallis, although some manufacturers toned down the original psychedelic “neon” colors to more muted tones.
Today, multi-colored talleisim are commonplace – so much so, that a young man once walked up to the now gray-haired Reb Zalman and asked, ‘Where did you get your rainbow tallis? I also have one. Yours is exactly like mine!” Reb Zalman smiled lovingly. “Yes, baruch Hashem, I also have a rainbow tallis…” he paused, a faraway look in his eyes. “We’re both wrapped in the Creator’s Robe of Light.”
The vision had come full circle.
Published courtesy of Havurah Shir Hadash, a Jewish Renewal community in Ashland, Oregon.
For a fabulous modern-day version
of the Bnei Or Tallit, click here>>>
Over the years, I have met many Jews who bought a
B’nai Or tallis simply because it is beautiful,
without realizing that there is a ‘legend in the
making” behind this robe of rainbow light. The
story begins many years ago, when Reb Zalman was
meditating on the Midrash: “How did G-d create
the world? He wrapped Himself in a robe of light,
and it began to shine.’ Suddenly Reb Zalman had a
beautiful inspiration, almost a vision, of a
prayer shawl woven in vibrant rainbow colors. It
was radical – and it was beautiful!
Reb Zalman’s very first colored tallis was made
in the 1950’s from an Anderson clan tartan. It
was very nice, but he still preferred stripes,
not only because this is traditional, but also
because he somehow sensed that it should have
bands of color, like a spectrum. (Reb Zalman
later presented this plaid tallis to a Scottish
convert named Anderson.) Other experiments
included embroidering colors on a regular tallis,
or appliqued stripes, and with each new design
the rainbow vision became clearer.
Around 1961 or so, the present design was ready
for the weavers. But in those days, tallis makers
were all very orthodox people who were not about
to participate in this “crazy idea.” Reb Zalman
trekked from one Brooklyn manufacturer to
another, but was flatly refused. ‘What is this
you want? A Purim tallis?” one pious old Hasid
asked at the Munkatcher tallis factory. “Is this
some kind of new sect or something?’
But design Reb Zalman envisioned was far from
being a ‘clown tallis.’ Each of the colors, as
well as the width and arrangement of the stripes
themselves, was based on the seven lower sephirot
of the kabbalistic Tree diagram. In 1983 Reb
Zalman explained it to me this way:
Gershom: So, you had in mind that the ‘robe of
light’ mentioned in the Midrash, that G-d wraps
Himself in to create the world, is the spectrum,
that it is literally the Primal Light?
Zalman: Right. And the “spectrum itself has black
lines, too, like you see on a spectroscope. Once
I started to see it. I asked myself the question,
which ones should have black lines? I saw the
black lines as a keli, a ‘vessel of creation.’ So
which of the sephirot need to be contained?
Certainly not Gevurah and Malchut, because they
themselves ARE vessels. On the other hand,
Tiferet and Yesod need strong ego-boundaries.
Then there was the question of which stripes
should be wider, and how they should be spaced.
So it comes out like this: The atarah
(embroidered-strip) of the tallis is Keter, the
Crown, the Source of the White Light, which is
into Chochmah-Binah (still white), and then
enters Chesed (Lovingkindness or Grace), which is
the wide purple stripe.
Gershom: There are two shades of purple. Why is
that?
Zalman: Because it represents Beresheet, ‘in the
Beginning,’ the First Day of Creation. So the
deep purple represents ultra-violet, just coming
out of darkness. If you have seen ‘black light
lamps, they have that deep purple color. The
lighter lavender [on either side of the deep
purple] already has some light mixed in, the
first light becoming visible to the human eye And
the whole stripe is very wide, because the nature
of Chesed is broad and sweeping. Which is also
why it needs the black lines to contain it.
Now the next stripe is techelet-blue,
representing Gevurah (strength or rigor.) This
stripe represents the Second Day of Creation,
when the ‘water above’ was separated from the
‘water below’ And since Gevurah is by nature a
container [because it also represents halachah,
or law], it doesn’t need the black stripes
bordering it.
Following the Creation story, the next stripe is
the Third Day. Vegetation was created then,
represented by green. G-d also said ‘It is good,’
twice on that day, so there are two green
stripes, with the white light of Keter coming
through the middle. Tiferet (as the heart chakra)
needs a vessel, so there are also the black
lines.
Next comes Netzach, the Fourth Day, when the sun,
moon, and stars were created, so they are
represented by yellow. The Fifth Day was when
egg-laying animals were made: all the fish,
reptiles, birds, and insects. So I represented
the sephirah of Hod with orange, like egg yolks.
Notice also that Hod and Yesod are very close
together, almost like one stripe, and that they
are mirror images of each other. You can’t really
separate them. In fact, people confuse which is
which, and there’s a lot of disagreement, some
systems interpreting them exactly opposite of
other systems…
Gershom: I see you’ve designed them very close
together, almost like one stripe, but there is
still some white light coming through between
them. Like Aaron and Moses. Aaron does the FORM
of the ritual and also CHANNELS the blessings.
Moses gives LAWS but also RECEIVES revelation.
Each has both active and passive elements, like
the left and right brain, but more balanced, more
integrated. That’s why you can’t really separate
them, right?
Zalman: Right. Now, the red stripe is Yesod
(Foundation), which can also represent Ego, so
naturally it needs a very strong vessel to
contain it. And because the placental mammals
were created on the Sixth Day, this one is red,
for the blood of life. (Editor’s note: Tiferet
and Yesod also represent the Higher Self and the
lower self, which is why the pattern of the red
stripes exactly reflects the green stripes
‘above,’ only smaller.)
And last of all, we come to Malchut, the Kingdom,
which is Earth, represented by brown, because all
things turn brown and return to the earth when
they die. King David is also associated with
Malchut, not only because he was a king, but also
because he receives everything and has nothing of
his own – not even his life. There’s the Midrash
that the first Adam gave 70 years of his life to
David, so that David’s very life came from
Adamah, the earth. Thus the brown color.
So, the pattern kept coming through clearer and
clearer, and the quest for a weaver continued
outside the Orthodox community. The very first
tallis in the B’nai Or pattern was made from
reindeer wool by a woman in New Haven,
Connecticut. This was lovely, but Reb Zalman
still was not completely satisfied, because the
cloth came out more like a blanket than a prayer
shawl, and it hung rather stiffly. The search
went on…
Then while visiting Montreal, Reb Zalman looked
in the phone book and found the listing of Karen
Bulow, Vetements Religieux – a Christian vestment
company? Would they be willing to do it? After a
brief conversation over the phone, Reb Zalman ran
ecstatically into the street and hailed the first
taxicab! Yes, they could make it, but he would
have to buy five of them, because it wasn’t worth
setting up the loom for only one. ‘Of course,
yes, I’ll gladly take five!’ he said with
delight.
At last the original tallaysim were woven: Reb
Zalman got one, Abraham Joshua Heschel got one,
Everett Gendler got one, Arthur Green got one…
And the fifth tallis? I don’t know. Perhaps it
belongs to all of us, because these five
tallaysim opened the door for Jews everywhere to
begin personalizing their prayer shawls and
expressing their own visions of Jewish spiritual
renewal.
A few months later, Reb Zalman was hired as
‘religious environmentalist” at a Ramah summer
camp. So here was this Lubovitcher Hasid, combing
the Manhattan garment district for colorful
remnants, especially scraps with stripes and
bright colors, so that he could teach Jewish kids
how to make their own tallaysim! With a rented
sewing machine and a trunk full of cloth under
his bunk, he set up his “tallisarium,’ the very
first grassroots do-it-yourself prayer-
shawkmaking venture.
Years passed, and those Jews taught other Jews,
who taught still others. Reb Zalman never
copyrighted his design, so that eventually it was
picked up and produced by a tallis factory in
Israel, marketed as the “Joseph’s coat’ tallis,
although some manufacturers toned down the
original psychedelic “neon’ colors to more muted
tones. Today, multi-colored tallaysim are
commonplace -so much so, that a young man once
walked up to the now gray-haired Reb Zalman and
asked, ‘Where did you get your rainbow tallis? I
also have one. Yours is exactly like mine!”
Reb Zalman smiled lovingly. ‘Yes, baruch Hashem,
I also have a rainbow tallis…’ he paused, a
faraway look in his eyes, ‘… we’re both wrapped
in the Creator’s Robe of Light.” The vision had
come full circle. Over the years, I have met many Jews who bought a B’nai Or tallis simply because it is beautiful, without realizing that there is a ‘legend in the making” behind this robe of rainbow light. The story begins many years ago, when Reb Zalman was meditating on the Midrash: “How did G-d create the world? He wrapped Himself in a robe of light, and it began to shine.’ Suddenly Reb Zalman had a beautiful inspiration, almost a vision, of a prayer shawl woven in vibrant rainbow colors. It was radical – and it was beautiful! Reb Zalman’s very first colored tallis was made in the 1950’s from an Anderson clan tartan. It was very nice, but he still preferred stripes, not only because this is traditional, but also because he somehow sensed that it should have bands of color, like a spectrum. (Reb Zalman later presented this plaid tallis to a Scottish convert named Anderson.) Other experiments included embroidering colors on a regular tallis, or appliqued stripes, and with each new design the rainbow vision became clearer. Around 1961 or so, the present design was ready for the weavers. But in those days, tallis makers were all very orthodox people who were not about to participate in this “crazy idea.” Reb Zalman trekked from one Brooklyn manufacturer to another, but was flatly refused. ‘What is this you want? A Purim tallis?” one pious old Hasid asked at the Munkatcher tallis factory. “Is this some kind of new sect or something?’ But design Reb Zalman envisioned was far from being a ‘clown tallis.’ Each of the colors, as well as the width and arrangement of the stripes themselves, was based on the seven lower sephirot of the kabbalistic Tree diagram. In 1983 Reb Zalman explained it to me this way: Gershom: So, you had in mind that the ‘robe of light’ mentioned in the Midrash, that G-d wraps Himself in to create the world, is the spectrum, that it is literally the Primal Light? Zalman: Right. And the “spectrum itself has black lines, too, like you see on a spectroscope. Once I started to see it. I asked myself the question, which ones should have black lines? I saw the black lines as a keli, a ‘vessel of creation.’ So which of the sephirot need to be contained? Certainly not Gevurah and Malchut, because they themselves ARE vessels. On the other hand, Tiferet and Yesod need strong ego-boundaries. Then there was the question of which stripes should be wider, and how they should be spaced. So it comes out like this: The atarah (embroidered-strip) of the tallis is Keter, the Crown, the Source of the White Light, which is into Chochmah-Binah (still white), and then enters Chesed (Lovingkindness or Grace), which is the wide purple stripe. Gershom: There are two shades of purple. Why is that? Zalman: Because it represents Beresheet, ‘in the Beginning,’ the First Day of Creation. So the deep purple represents ultra-violet, just coming out of darkness. If you have seen ‘black light lamps, they have that deep purple color. The lighter lavender [on either side of the deep purple] already has some light mixed in, the first light becoming visible to the human eye And the whole stripe is very wide, because the nature of Chesed is broad and sweeping. Which is also why it needs the black lines to contain it. Now the next stripe is techelet-blue, representing Gevurah (strength or rigor.) This stripe represents the Second Day of Creation, when the ‘water above’ was separated from the ‘water below’ And since Gevurah is by nature a container [because it also represents halachah, or law], it doesn’t need the black stripes bordering it. Following the Creation story, the next stripe is the Third Day. Vegetation was created then, represented by green. G-d also said ‘It is good,’ twice on that day, so there are two green stripes, with the white light of Keter coming through the middle. Tiferet (as the heart chakra) needs a vessel, so there are also the black lines. Next comes Netzach, the Fourth Day, when the sun, moon, and stars were created, so they are represented by yellow. The Fifth Day was when egg-laying animals were made: all the fish, reptiles, birds, and insects. So I represented the sephirah of Hod with orange, like egg yolks. Notice also that Hod and Yesod are very close together, almost like one stripe, and that they are mirror images of each other. You can’t really separate them. In fact, people confuse which is which, and there’s a lot of disagreement, some systems interpreting them exactly opposite of other systems… Gershom: I see you’ve designed them very close together, almost like one stripe, but there is still some white light coming through between them. Like Aaron and Moses. Aaron does the FORM of the ritual and also CHANNELS the blessings. Moses gives LAWS but also RECEIVES revelation. Each has both active and passive elements, like the left and right brain, but more balanced, more integrated. That’s why you can’t really separate them, right? Zalman: Right. Now, the red stripe is Yesod (Foundation), which can also represent Ego, so naturally it needs a very strong vessel to contain it. And because the placental mammals were created on the Sixth Day, this one is red, for the blood of life. (Editor’s note: Tiferet and Yesod also represent the Higher Self and the lower self, which is why the pattern of the red stripes exactly reflects the green stripes ‘above,’ only smaller.) And last of all, we come to Malchut, the Kingdom, which is Earth, represented by brown, because all things turn brown and return to the earth when they die. King David is also associated with Malchut, not only because he was a king, but also because he receives everything and has nothing of his own – not even his life. There’s the Midrash that the first Adam gave 70 years of his life to David, so that David’s very life came from Adamah, the earth. Thus the brown color. So, the pattern kept coming through clearer and clearer, and the quest for a weaver continued outside the Orthodox community. The very first tallis in the B’nai Or pattern was made from reindeer wool by a woman in New Haven, Connecticut. This was lovely, but Reb Zalman still was not completely satisfied, because the cloth came out more like a blanket than a prayer shawl, and it hung rather stiffly. The search went on… Then while visiting Montreal, Reb Zalman looked in the phone book and found the listing of Karen Bulow, Vetements Religieux – a Christian vestment company? Would they be willing to do it? After a brief conversation over the phone, Reb Zalman ran ecstatically into the street and hailed the first taxicab! Yes, they could make it, but he would have to buy five of them, because it wasn’t worth setting up the loom for only one. ‘Of course, yes, I’ll gladly take five!’ he said with delight. At last the original tallaysim were woven: Reb Zalman got one, Abraham Joshua Heschel got one, Everett Gendler got one, Arthur Green got one… And the fifth tallis? I don’t know. Perhaps it belongs to all of us, because these five tallaysim opened the door for Jews everywhere to begin personalizing their prayer shawls and expressing their own visions of Jewish spiritual renewal. A few months later, Reb Zalman was hired as ‘religious environmentalist” at a Ramah summer camp. So here was this Lubovitcher Hasid, combing the Manhattan garment district for colorful remnants, especially scraps with stripes and bright colors, so that he could teach Jewish kids how to make their own tallaysim! With a rented sewing machine and a trunk full of cloth under his bunk, he set up his “tallisarium,’ the very first grassroots do-it-yourself prayer- shawkmaking venture. Years passed, and those Jews taught other Jews, who taught still others. Reb Zalman never copyrighted his design, so that eventually it was picked up and produced by a tallis factory in Israel, marketed as the “Joseph’s coat’ tallis, although some manufacturers toned down the original psychedelic “neon’ colors to more muted tones. Today, multi-colored tallaysim are commonplace -so much so, that a young man once walked up to the now gray-haired Reb Zalman and asked, ‘Where did you get your rainbow tallis? I also have one. Yours is exactly like mine!” Reb Zalman smiled lovingly. ‘Yes, baruch Hashem, I also have a rainbow tallis…’ he paused, a faraway look in his eyes, ‘… we’re both wrapped in the Creator’s Robe of Light.” The vision had come full circle.fdsf