Great Americans, Famous Jews, and the Questions We’re Afraid to Ask
Jac Lahav’s work is what happens when deep questions about identity meet a pop-culture sensibility, all filtered through the mind of someone who thinks in layers—literally. In a recent Zoom conversation with Jac, I got a glimpse into his creative process, his signature series 48 Jews, and why he’s spent decades painting identity, one touch at a time.
The 48 Jews project began in 2006 when The Jewish Museum in New York picked it up, but what started as a tidy collection of 48 portraits quickly evolved into a sprawling, open-ended series that now boasts over 90 paintings. The concept is deceptively simple: portraits of notable Jewish figures, from Anne Frank to Hannah Arendt, Marc Chagall, and—wait for it—Elvis Presley.
Yes, Elvis. As Jac explained, Elvis had four generations of maternal Jewish descent and often wore a Star of David. I had no idea. And then there’s Frida Kahlo, who frequently claimed Jewish heritage but didn’t actually have any. “What does it mean to be Jewish?” Jac asks. “Is it ancestry? Culture? A choice?” These are the kinds of questions 48 Jews encourages viewers to grapple with, all while challenging traditional ideas about who gets to belong and why.
The portraits themselves are as layered as the questions they raise. Jac constructs his paintings in 18 meticulously applied layers, a nod to the Jewish mystical significance of the number 18, which symbolizes chai (life). Each addition—what he calls a “touch”—builds the canvas into something more than a flat surface. There’s texture, depth, and a sense of history embedded in the work before the final figure is even painted. “The figure is like a sticker on top of this complex history,” Jac says. “It’s an analogy for identity. We see someone as a single image, but beneath that is a lifetime of layers.”
But 48 Jews isn’t Jac’s only exploration of identity. His follow-up series, Great Americans, shifts the focus to his American identity, examining it through the lens of celebrity. The portraits in this series balance well-known figures like Frederick Douglass with unsung heroes such as David Ruggles, an abolitionist who ran the first African American-owned bookstore in Tribeca. Jac wants to tell stories that are often overlooked, providing a counterpoint to the default narratives of American history. “We need to hear the unheard stories,” he says.
This exploration of identity is deeply personal for Jac. Born in Israel to Iranian parents, he grew up surrounded by Jewish culture but also the complexities of diaspora. Now based in Connecticut, the themes of brokenness and repair frequently surface in his work.
What sets Jac apart, though, is his ability to infuse humor into these heavy topics. During our conversation, he casually mentioned using Photoshop AI to fix a poorly cropped reference image for a painting of Sol Lewitt for an upcoming exhibition. It’s a practical solution, but also a wink at how art and technology constantly evolve together. This balance between playful and profound is a hallmark of Jac’s approach.
At the heart of everything Jac does is a commitment to questioning assumptions. His art challenges us to reconsider what we think we know about identity, whether it’s Jewish, American, or something else entirely. The layers in his paintings remind us that identity is never one thing—it’s an accumulation of history, culture, and personal experience, built over time and rarely straightforward.