Meet the Jewish Artist Painting Mural-Scale Torah Scrolls Across New Mexico
On a wall in Albuquerque, a Torah scroll stretches several feet from floor to ceiling. Its painted parchment curls through layers of desert color: adobe red, cottonwood green, turquoise, and the deep blue of a high-desert evening. Hebrew letters travel across the surface in deliberate rows, while small images of mountains, chile ristras, river water, and stars appear in the spaces around them.
The artist behind these mural-scale works is Ruthie Ben-David, a Jewish painter and community arts educator whose studio practice turns Torah into a visual meeting place. Her scrolls are not ritual objects and are never presented as substitutes for handwritten sacred Torah. They are large-scale paintings inspired by the form, rhythm, and public life of the scroll.
Ben-David’s work has found a natural home in New Mexico, where Jewish communities are often geographically separated but closely connected through shared programs, congregations, schools, cultural centers, and holiday gatherings. Her murals offer a way to make that connection visible.
A studio shaped by text and landscape
Ben-David grew up between two kinds of visual language. Her grandparents kept a traditional Jewish home, where books, family photographs, and holiday objects filled the shelves. Her parents took her hiking throughout the Southwest, teaching her to notice the changing colors of stone, the patterns left by water, and the way light transforms an ordinary wall.
She began painting Torah scroll forms after studying Hebrew calligraphy and contemporary mural arts. The initial idea was practical: she wanted to create a public artwork that could communicate Jewish continuity without requiring viewers to enter a synagogue or already understand Jewish ritual.
The scroll became her central image because it carries movement within stillness. It can be opened, read, lifted, carried, and returned to its place. In Ben-David’s paintings, that same sense of movement becomes physical. A viewer may stand close enough to follow a single letter, then step back to see the complete composition take shape.
Her process is slow and highly structured. She prepares the wall, sketches the scroll’s proportions, establishes a grid, and paints the Hebrew passages by hand. Around the text, she builds a landscape that is recognizably New Mexican without reducing Jewish life to scenery.
Making sacred tradition visible in public space
A central question in Ben-David’s work is how to honor Torah without treating it as a decorative pattern. She consults rabbis, educators, Hebrew readers, and community members before beginning a major commission. These conversations help determine which text to use, how it should be presented, and what boundaries are important in a public setting.
Some murals draw from verses associated with justice, welcome, memory, or care for the stranger. Others use blessings, fragments of liturgy, or Hebrew words connected to a congregation’s history. Ben-David often includes an English translation nearby, allowing viewers who do not read Hebrew to enter the work through meaning rather than typography alone.
The distinction between a painted Torah and a ritual Torah remains essential. A sacred scroll used for reading in worship is handwritten on parchment according to Jewish law and handled through established practices. Ben-David’s murals engage the visual and ethical power of Torah while remaining works of contemporary art.
That distinction has also opened productive conversations in schools and interfaith settings. Students can ask why Hebrew letters are written in a particular direction, how a scroll is used during a service, and why a community might choose a text about freedom or responsibility for a public wall.
What the scrolls carry across New Mexico
Her commissions vary according to place. In Albuquerque, a mural might incorporate the Rio Grande bosque, distant Sandia peaks, and the warm geometry of historic adobe neighborhoods. In Santa Fe, the design may respond to older architectural forms and the city’s layered artistic traditions. In southern New Mexico, wide skies and desert bloom can become part of the visual vocabulary.
The works also carry community memory. Ben-David invites congregants to contribute words, family names, recipes, migration stories, or images connected to local Jewish life. These details may appear in a border, a painted band of color, or a small motif that rewards close attention.
| Element | How it appears in Ben-David’s murals |
|---|---|
| Hebrew text | Hand-painted passages chosen with community guidance |
| Scroll form | A visual structure suggesting study, movement, and continuity |
| New Mexico landscape | Mountains, river corridors, desert plants, adobe, and wide skies |
| Local memory | Names, stories, symbols, and contributions from residents |
| Public purpose | Conversation, education, gathering, and visible Jewish presence |
This collaborative method makes each mural specific. A scroll painted for a congregation in Las Cruces should not look interchangeable with one created for a Jewish community in Taos. The differences are part of the point: Jewish identity has shared roots, but it also absorbs the character of the places where people build their lives.
A bridge between Jewish and New Mexican cultures
Ben-David’s work reflects the cultural exchanges that shape Jewish life in the state. Her murals have been discussed at interfaith events, neighborhood art walks, synagogue programs, and gatherings that bring together Jewish, Latino, Indigenous, and other local communities. The conversations are often as significant as the finished painting.
Food, language, family history, and public art provide accessible points of connection. A painted pomegranate may lead to a conversation about Rosh Hashanah; a desert plant may prompt discussion about stewardship; a border pattern may invite comparisons between textile traditions. These exchanges do not erase differences. They create room for curiosity and respectful attention.
That spirit echoes broader Jewish-Latino cultural exchanges taking place throughout the Land of Enchantment. Ben-David sees collaboration as a form of civic storytelling: each participant contributes a part of the picture while retaining a distinct history and voice.
Her approach is especially meaningful in a period when Jewish communities are thinking carefully about visibility. A mural cannot solve antisemitism, replace education, or stand in for organized advocacy. It can, however, make Jewish presence legible in everyday public life and create an invitation to learn.
The discipline behind the large scale
Painting a Torah scroll several feet high requires more than a strong concept. Ben-David works with lifts, scaffolding, projection tools, and custom brushes. She must account for changing sunlight, textured surfaces, public access, and the distance from which the mural will be viewed.
The Hebrew lettering presents a particular challenge. At mural scale, every irregularity becomes visible, yet excessive mechanical perfection can drain the work of its human quality. Ben-David practices each passage on paper before transferring it to the wall. She asks experienced Hebrew readers to review the text and checks spacing repeatedly as the painting develops.
Color also carries intention. She may use turquoise to connect with regional architecture, yellow to suggest desert light, or a restrained red to draw attention to a word about justice or remembrance. The palette is vivid but rarely random. Each color must support the text and the emotional character of the site.
The physical work can take weeks or months, especially when community workshops are part of the commission. Children may paint small background elements, elders may share photographs, and members of a congregation may help select the central passage. The final mural is therefore made through many hands, even when Ben-David is the person holding the brush.
Keeping the work alive after the unveiling
For Ben-David, the unveiling is a beginning rather than a finish line. She encourages communities to build programming around the mural: Hebrew learning sessions, holiday tours, artist talks, youth art projects, and public readings connected to the painted text.
A mural can also become an informal landmark. Visitors may use it to locate a community center, families may photograph themselves beside it before a lifecycle event, and congregations may return to it each year as the seasons change. Its meaning accumulates through repeated encounters.
She hopes the scrolls will remain open to interpretation. A Jewish viewer may see an echo of synagogue ritual, while someone unfamiliar with Judaism may first notice the landscape or the scale. A child may focus on the colors and later ask about the letters. That gradual discovery is part of the artwork’s purpose.
For communities considering a commission, Ben-David recommends beginning with listening rather than design. The strongest projects emerge when residents identify the stories they want to carry forward and the audiences they hope to welcome.
Building a meaningful community mural
- Form a small planning group that includes artists, educators, congregational leaders, and community members.
- Choose a Hebrew passage with careful attention to translation, context, and public accessibility.
- Document local Jewish histories before selecting symbols or images for the mural.
- Create educational programming so the artwork remains connected to learning.
- Establish a maintenance plan for the wall, paint, lighting, and surrounding space.
Carry the story forward
Across New Mexico, Ben-David’s painted scrolls offer a distinctive answer to a shared question: how can Jewish communities make memory visible while continuing to grow? Her murals place Torah in conversation with mountains, neighborhoods, migration stories, and the daily life of the state.
They also demonstrate the power of Jewish art to gather people without flattening the complexity of Jewish identity. The scroll remains recognizable, but its surroundings change. Each new wall becomes a record of place, partnership, and the ongoing work of interpretation.
Communities interested in bringing this kind of project to a synagogue, school, cultural center, or public gathering place can begin by documenting their stories and opening a conversation with local artists, educators, and Jewish organizations. A blank wall may become more than a backdrop; with care, it can become a shared page.