When Temple Israel brings out the Alter Wall for the High Holy Days, I’m always hit with a flash of childhood memory. Back then, I didn’t know it was art, much less sacred art. To me, it was a giant set, like something out of a play. The sculptured wall, with its folds of steel and gold coloring, looked well, climbable. I imagined scrambling up the centerpiece and swinging from the hanging chains like some kind of sanctuary Tarzan.

Now that my climbing days are behind me, I look at the Alter Wall through the eyes of a 56-year-old. This time, I see the story it tells — a story of faith, history and imagination, hammered into steel and welded into place.

ADVERTISEMENT

A St. Louis artist’s bold vision

The Alter Wall was created by St. Louis artist Rodney M. Winfield in the early 1960s, the result of two years of design and fabrication. Originally conceived as a movable mosaic wall, it grew into a three-dimensional altar encompassing the pulpit, lectern and chairs. The finished work weighs 3,000 pounds, supported by five tons of steel framework.

Winfield designed it to be experienced from every angle.

“When you are dealing with a three-dimensional concept, it not only is something that happens — it’s welcome,” he told the St. Louis Post-Dispatch in 1962. “You play hide and seek with forms. If you lose one thing from a particular vantage point you gain another.”

He shaped and welded every sheet of steel individually, many under intense heat and tension. “I took each individual piece and developed it with love and care,” Winfield said. “Each had to be beautiful in itself, but also fit into the larger design.”

Rabbi Amy Feder sees it as a reflection of its era. “It is certainly representative of the art at the time — modern, brutalist,” she said. “It was intentionally very high and imposing. The rabbis are towering and impressive figures on the bimah, far removed from the congregation.”

The symbols hidden in plain sight

Working with Rabbi Ferdinand Isserman, Winfield built the Alter Wall as a sculptural narrative of Jewish memory and ritual.

Its features include the Burning Bush, Tree of Life, Ark, Harp of David, Menorah, Moon, Sun, Pillar of Fire and Pillar of Cloud, as well as the Tablets of the Ten Commandments — some inverted, referencing the set broken by Moses. Other details include the Hebrew acrostic Aleph and Shin (Almighty God), the shofar at Sinai and a stylized Western Wall on the pulpit. The lectern’s shape represents outstretched arms of blessing.

The work of revealing the wall

Contrary to my childhood assumption, the Alter Wall never moves. “Only once a year — for High Holy Days — we dismantle our everyday bimah and open the wall between the sanctuary and the Isserman Auditorium to create one big space,” said TI Building Supervisor Derrick Bryant. “The Alter Wall is simply waiting behind curtains all year until it’s unveiled.”

Feder calls that moment one of her favorites. “We treat it almost like an unveiling,” she said. “The moment it is revealed signals the start of the season of reflection and renewal.”

Why we bring it back

Feder says the decision to keep it hidden most of the year was intentional. “The historic bimah was the opposite of what Rabbi Michael (Alper) and I wanted our rabbinate to be,” she said. “We wanted to be accessible, close to our congregants. The cost of removing the Alter Wall altogether was prohibitive, so it was easier just to tuck it away for most of the year.”

When it does return, she says, it transforms the space. “The bimah fits beautifully with the theme of the High Holy Days. It is awe inspiring, both in its size and its artistry. On these holidays when everything we do is scaled up — more people, full music, heavy liturgy — it is just the right time to have the historic bimah there.”

Children are still as fascinated as I was. “They want to know how it happens, and they’re fascinated by the way it just appears so magically,” Feder said.

For me, seeing the Alter Wall each fall still stirs both memory and awe. While I still envision climbing it, I now just sit back, take it in and let it do what Winfield designed it to do: tell a story in steel.