first Jewish boy to be admitted to a Gymnasium (high school)âwas also elected as the first Jewish city councillor.
One definite advantage, however, was that Jewish communal worship became permitted (until 1837, religious devotions were confined to private houses). The Jews of Dresden could now realize their dream of building a synagogue to match those that had existed in Prussian and West German cities for decades. Even while the law of emancipation was being discussed, a committee had been set up with this in mind. It began raising money among the community. In 1838, with the law now passed, representatives approached the young gentile architect Gottfried Semper. At thirty-five, Semper was already professor at the Dresden Academy of Arts, and running a busy practice whose current projects included two museums and alterations for plans to the Royal Theater. He was also well known (perhaps even notorious) for his liberal views. Exactly who first contacted him is no longer clear, for most of the committeeâs papers have been lost, but it is known that the fee offered (500 talers) was fairly modest. All the same, Semper did not hesitate. He saw the symbolic importance of the project immediately, and wanted to be involved.
A master builder and a master carpenter were hired. A site was purchased behind the Brühl Terrace, not far from the Elbe. Soon the prolific young architect had draft plans ready: an Oriental-style building complex, topped by a dome that had the look of a Byzantine or Romanesque cathedral. From the middle of the cuboid main building rose a polygonic structure topped by a pyramid roof. The design allowed plenty of room for the congregation with, by tradition, in the center a clearly defined area where the Almenor âthe table on which the Torah scroll was setâthe candelabra, and the eternal light would be proudly placed. The height of this central area (with its carefully located windows) would allow extra light into the synagogue that would otherwise be limited by the intrusion of the two womenâs galleries overlooking the main area of worship. Two towers, each with a Star of David on its pinnacle, would be built either side of the entrance lobby.
The imposing structure began to rise, soon clearly visible from the river Elbe. There were those who regarded it with respect, those who harbored envy toward a community that could fund and build such an extraordinary house of worship in so short a time, and those who felt a little of both. What outsiders did not know was that the financing was quite quickly in real trouble. Rabbi Fränkel, who had pushed so hard to make this project happen, was soon criticized for having overestimated the wealth of his congregation. A third of the 119 Jewish heads of households in Dresden were in receipt of poor relief, and only a further third earned enough to pay taxes. Some of those who had pledged funds were now pleading financial problems, or withholding contributions because of sudden reservations about aspects of the design.
Nevertheless, the money was found. On May 8, 1840, the solemn consecration of the Dresden synagogue took place. It was now thelargest Jewish house of worship in Germany, providing room for three hundred men and two hundred women to attend divine service. All the kingâs ministers attended. The Jewish community in Dresden at last had a highly visible focus to its spiritual and cultural life.
Semperâs synagogue, as part of the skyline along the Elbe, was also constant, living evidence of the achievement of equality for the Jewish religion and people in the city. It would survive for ninety-eight years and almost exactly six months, and its destruction would anticipate the fate not just of Dresdenâs Jewish community but also of the city itself.
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FROM THE HUNDRED or so households of 1840, the Jewish population grew steadily, though not quite in proportion to Dresdenâs overall expansion. While there were
One definite advantage, however, was that Jewish communal worship became permitted (until 1837, religious devotions were confined to private houses). The Jews of Dresden could now realize their dream of building a synagogue to match those that had existed in Prussian and West German cities for decades. Even while the law of emancipation was being discussed, a committee had been set up with this in mind. It began raising money among the community. In 1838, with the law now passed, representatives approached the young gentile architect Gottfried Semper. At thirty-five, Semper was already professor at the Dresden Academy of Arts, and running a busy practice whose current projects included two museums and alterations for plans to the Royal Theater. He was also well known (perhaps even notorious) for his liberal views. Exactly who first contacted him is no longer clear, for most of the committeeâs papers have been lost, but it is known that the fee offered (500 talers) was fairly modest. All the same, Semper did not hesitate. He saw the symbolic importance of the project immediately, and wanted to be involved.
A master builder and a master carpenter were hired. A site was purchased behind the Brühl Terrace, not far from the Elbe. Soon the prolific young architect had draft plans ready: an Oriental-style building complex, topped by a dome that had the look of a Byzantine or Romanesque cathedral. From the middle of the cuboid main building rose a polygonic structure topped by a pyramid roof. The design allowed plenty of room for the congregation with, by tradition, in the center a clearly defined area where the Almenor âthe table on which the Torah scroll was setâthe candelabra, and the eternal light would be proudly placed. The height of this central area (with its carefully located windows) would allow extra light into the synagogue that would otherwise be limited by the intrusion of the two womenâs galleries overlooking the main area of worship. Two towers, each with a Star of David on its pinnacle, would be built either side of the entrance lobby.
The imposing structure began to rise, soon clearly visible from the river Elbe. There were those who regarded it with respect, those who harbored envy toward a community that could fund and build such an extraordinary house of worship in so short a time, and those who felt a little of both. What outsiders did not know was that the financing was quite quickly in real trouble. Rabbi Fränkel, who had pushed so hard to make this project happen, was soon criticized for having overestimated the wealth of his congregation. A third of the 119 Jewish heads of households in Dresden were in receipt of poor relief, and only a further third earned enough to pay taxes. Some of those who had pledged funds were now pleading financial problems, or withholding contributions because of sudden reservations about aspects of the design.
Nevertheless, the money was found. On May 8, 1840, the solemn consecration of the Dresden synagogue took place. It was now thelargest Jewish house of worship in Germany, providing room for three hundred men and two hundred women to attend divine service. All the kingâs ministers attended. The Jewish community in Dresden at last had a highly visible focus to its spiritual and cultural life.
Semperâs synagogue, as part of the skyline along the Elbe, was also constant, living evidence of the achievement of equality for the Jewish religion and people in the city. It would survive for ninety-eight years and almost exactly six months, and its destruction would anticipate the fate not just of Dresdenâs Jewish community but also of the city itself.
Â
FROM THE HUNDRED or so households of 1840, the Jewish population grew steadily, though not quite in proportion to Dresdenâs overall expansion. While there were
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