Honoring Passover Through Creativity and Tradition

Last Passover, as I poured red wine into the charoset and chopped vegetables for our small family seder, a heaviness settled in my stomach. Passover has always been a joyful holiday for us—filled with laughter, off-key singing, and my younger cousins mispronouncing words in the Haggadah. But last year was different. A place setting sat unused, symbolizing the 133 hostages still in Gaza. As we began reading the Haggadah, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. The words, ones I had recited for years without much thought, suddenly felt hauntingly relevant in 2024.

• They tried to kill us, in the end, we prevailed.
• Let my people go.

• Why is this night different from all other nights?

• We were slaves, now we are free.

• They stand over us to annihilate us.

For the first time, I paid attention to every word, struggling to maintain composure while grappling with the weight of history repeating itself. My usual casual observance—centered on food, family, and tradition—was replaced by a deep sense of relevance and grief.

Now, a year later, as we prepare for another Passover, 59 hostages remain in captivity. We’re still at war 18 months later. The same words in the Haggadah still cut deep.

I know I’m not alone in feeling the weight of this moment. Since launching Makers of Israel, an online marketplace supporting Israeli artists, small businesses, and community-driven initiatives, I’ve spoken with our makers about what this Passover means to them. How are they holding onto tradition? How is their creativity shifting in these times? And how can we, through their handcrafted work, continue to tell stories of resilience, hope, and connection to Israel?

Passover has always been a celebration of resilience, remembrance, and renewal. This year, however, the themes of liberation and continuity carry a deeper, more urgent weight. For makers like Einav Braun, Naama Elson, Noa Baranes, Lia Bruce, and Laliv Shalev, creativity is not just an expression of personal freedom—it’s a testament to the enduring spirit of the Jewish people. Through their craft, they preserve tradition, foster connection, and create a bridge between past and present.

For Einav Braun, working with clay is both a personal and collective act of liberation. “Working with clay allows me to shape and transform raw material into something meaningful, a process that mirrors the journey of self-discovery and creative freedom,” she shares. But beyond her own experience, pottery connects her to a lineage of Jewish makers who have crafted beauty even in adversity. “Pottery has always been part of Jewish history—fragments of ancient vessels found in Israel tell a story of resilience, survival, and continuity. By continuing this tradition, I see my work as a bridge between past and present, ensuring that craftsmanship and artistic expression remain a vital part of Jewish culture.”

Similarly, Naama Elson sees her work as a powerful medium for storytelling and preservation. “My work is a space where I can express myself without limitations, allowing emotions to guide me and transform moments, memories, and imagery into life on paper,” she explains. Watercolor, with its fluidity and unpredictability, symbolizes the freedom she embraces in her creative process. But her work extends beyond personal expression—it is a way to keep Jewish traditions alive. “Jewish history is filled with illuminated manuscripts, adorned ritual objects, and artistic expression that survived despite adversity. The fact that I create illustrated paper goods inspired by Jewish traditions and local influences is part of this continuation.”

For Noa Baranes, Passover carries a particularly profound meaning. As a convert to Judaism, she sees her art as an expression of both personal and collective freedom. “My art is an expression of my spiritual journey and liberation. It’s a way to represent my personal freedom to embrace and celebrate my Jewish identity,” she says. Noa also views her work as a contribution to the ongoing story of Jewish resilience. “By creating art that celebrates Jewish traditions and values, I’m contributing to the ongoing narrative of resilience and survival. Since October 7, this mission has become even more important. Living near Ashdod, I’m used to the rockets, but the recent events have intensified my desire to create art that instills pride and strength in the Jewish community worldwide. It’s a way to say, ‘We are here, we are proud, and we will continue to celebrate our heritage.’”

As Passover approaches, these artists reflect on the significance of their work during this season of storytelling. Einav has crafted Seder plates inspired by the themes of freedom and renewal, ensuring that families can incorporate handmade artistry into their holiday rituals. For Naama, Passover’s rich visual language—the Seder plate, the matzah, the waves of the Red Sea—provides endless inspiration. “Passover is a holiday of storytelling,” she says. “The Exodus narrative is at its core, and visually, it offers dramatic and compelling elements. I find inspiration in the contrasts of the holiday—between darkness and light, slavery and freedom, sharp ink lines and the fluidity of watercolor.”

Noa reflects on her own experience with Passover as a convert. “My first Passover was amazing. It was overwhelming to learn about all the preparations, like cleaning my apartment, but when the holiday came, I could really feel its light. I loved reading the Haggadah—I experienced it like a child learning the history of my people for the first time. Passover is about freedom, and converting is also about freeing yourself. Converts are special souls that were always Jewish but needed this extra ‘training’ to fully embrace it. My Jewish spark was always there, but it needed to be freed from the secular world I was brought up in.”

Yet this year, the holiday feels different. Since October 7, the fragility of freedom has never felt more real. “We are not truly free while our brothers and sisters remain in captivity,” Einav reflects. “The thought of the hostages makes the story of Passover more real than ever—we celebrate our liberation from slavery, yet we cannot ignore the fact that there are still people who are held against their will, separated from their families.”

Lia Bruce shares her own fears. “I have always looked upon Passover as a story that symbolizes freedom. As the complex political situation within Israel reaches a boiling point, I never thought I would be afraid to lose my freedom within the Jewish independent state. Now I do. And it frightens me more than antisemitism.”

Naama echoes this sentiment. “The words ‘In every generation, they rise up against us to destroy us’ no longer feel like just a sentence in the Haggadah—they are reality. This year, many Seder tables will have empty seats, and the pain will be present alongside the joy. But for that very reason, the connection to tradition feels even stronger.”

Noa sees a shift in how she celebrates. “Since October 7, celebrating holidays has taken on a deeper significance. The joy is still there, but it’s tempered with a sense of responsibility to honor those who gave their lives for our freedom.”

Even in sorrow, these artists find solace in their craft. “There have been moments, especially during challenging times, when art has provided a refuge—a place to express emotions, to heal, and to find strength,” Einav shares.

Naama adds, “After October 7, painting was almost a means of holding myself together. In times of helplessness, the ability to take a piece of paper, immerse it in colors, and create an image of hope felt like an act of survival.”

This Passover, as Jewish families around the world gather to retell the story of the Exodus, the work of Einav, Naama, and Noa will serve as silent yet powerful storytellers. Whether through a handmade Seder plate, an intricately illustrated Haggadah, or artwork that celebrates Jewish identity, their creations ensure that the past is honored, the present is acknowledged, and the future remains bright with possibility. Because even in the most uncertain times, creativity endures—and with it, the unbreakable spirit of a people who refuse to be forgotten.