Steve Marcus:
Kosher Counter-Culture

Written by Leigh Pennington

When I first met Steve Marcus at the Eldridge Street Museum, there was an apparent kookiness about his persona. Yet a familiarity we shared was composed of identity, knowledge, and humor. An affinity that could be read in the manner, inflection, and topic choices of our conversation. In the midst of our discussion of art, Jewish culture, marijuana, history, and the precarious laws surrounding rent controlled apartments in New York City; Marcus handed me his business card to stay in touch. 

This introduction told me a great deal of how to understand his approach to the world. Marcus’ speech and air rang with a hilarity worthy of Mel Brooks, dedicated to turning the world’s idea of identity and history on its head. All the while in a non-threatening and comedic manner. However this instance was just scratching the surface of his thought, heart, and artistic skill.

Born in the summer of love in 1969, Marcus began selling his work in 1989, and acquired his first studio in the early 90s; a storefront in the Bowery on Elizabeth Street between Prince and Houston. The neighborhood as he recalled was, “a little funky…two blocks away was John Gotti and the Ravenite Social Club…Elizabeth Street was this forgotten block. There was a storefront there…saw the storefront, fell in love with it…At the time, I had long hair and everything…this guy (landlord) looked at me and was like, whoa, this Muppet Show looking character wants to rent this place, this is crazy…He rented me the place fixed for life, 800 bucks a month. He thought he was robbing me.”

“The people, the places, whatever, it’s almost like a haunted house, they’re all gone…For me, the images of New York, and whether it’s the hot dogs or some of these other things that I like to do, they are in some way part of my time machine, my memory, my traveling into something that doesn’t exist anymore, that a lot of people are connected to, because they experienced it.”

Marcus recalled the New York of then and now, “New York City, it’s like, I walk with ghosts here…The people, the places, whatever, it’s almost like a haunted house, they’re all gone…For me, the images of New York, and whether it’s the hot dogs or some of these other things that I like to do, they are in some way part of my time machine, my memory, my traveling into something that doesn’t exist anymore, that a lot of people are connected to, because they experienced it.”

Marcus came up as an artist in a mythical New York long since relegated to the pages of history. This New York had a long lost mom and pop store culture. It also had low overhead, no sign of a Whole Foods, and pre-Giuliani rent prices. An ideal setting for the creation of creativity and culture. According to Marcus, “A lot of the things that came out of here really came from a low overhead environment. Back in the 80s, let’s say you could rent an apartment down here for 250 bucks…If you were entrepreneurial, you had some hustle, like under the table, debajo la mesa, metukhl ha shulhan type of vibe, then you could really make it happen…When you look at hip hop, graffiti, hardcore, punk rock, all the art movements that came out in the 80s, people were able to have a lifestyle that afforded them the free time to be creative.”

As an artist Marcus has taken notice of the drastic change in the entire landscape of today’s New York. Creative and community contributions that are ultimately disseminated into the world through a lens of globalization, big box companies, multinational conglomerates and brands; which have diluted the individuated identity of movements and work. What stands in its place today is a homogenization of culture contributing to a level of performativity. People don’t build up themselves anymore by what they experience in real time so much as what they are able to consume.

He expounded on this idea, “if I could be so bold as to say that I have an achieved identity, rather than an acquired consumer identity…All the wild things I ever got involved in, I partook in it. I didn’t sign up…I hitchhiked across the country, from Manhattan to Mexico, just on some free wheelin’, sun shining, hair growing shit…You can’t buy that, you don’t buy a ticket for that, you don’t subscribe to that. You gotta grow a big pair of matzo balls, you know what I am saying? All of those different things add up to build your character.” 

People don’t build up themselves anymore by what they experience in real time so much as what they are able to consume.

Marcus advised me that, “the only road not taken is the one you’re going to regret.” He has put the principles of that statement into practice on numerous occasions, aiding in the production of prominent and subversive projects. In 2000, he along with two others including Alan Ket, founder of Stress Magazine and co-founder of the Museum of Graffiti, received a handwritten letter from Cuba. In the correspondence, a young Cuban reader of Stress expressed the growing rise of hip-hop culture in Havana. Intrigued by the letter, Marcus and Ket devised a plan to travel to Cuba and produce an album featuring several local rappers and hip-hop artists. 

During their time there, the team produced the album The Cuban Hip Hop All-Stars at Studio Abdala. Marcus also created visual work for the project. His historic mural, The History of Cuban Hip Hop, as well as his photography has been featured prominently in scholarly works from Duke University and University of Texas, dealing with the political and social changes of Cuban history. The album itself was nominated for a Latin Grammy in 2001.  

The trip also deepened Marcus’ staunchly held perspective of the inherent failure that is the system of man. Acquiring first hand experience of the inequality of both capitalist as well as communist political nations he explained, “the more places that I went to in the world, and the more things I dealt with, I just realized that all these people that believe in all these political ideologies, those are flawed ideas created by human beings that ultimately are just all corrupted in one way or another.”

This realization is part of what Marcus credits to the development of his gravitation towards spirituality and Judaism within his life and work. He expounded, “Probably one of the reasons that I feel so comfortable dealing with spirituality and things of that nature is because it’s beyond the physical, it’s beyond the material…everybody’s able to hear the loud, thundering voice, but it’s the whisper that you need to listen to…In some way, the whisper is the bell that rings the loudest. When you actually hear it. Allow yourself to hear it. I had spent a few years already silencing my own ideas.”

The trip also deepened Marcus’ staunchly held perspective of the inherent failure that is the system of man.

This epiphany was further charged by two divergent experiences connected to his Judaism: antisemitic discrimination and the passing of his father (of blessed memory). Post 9/11, Marcus recalls a conversation being held amongst his peers that reformed the perspective he held of his Judaism. He recalled, “They said to me, ‘Yo, dude, you know there were no Jews in the World Trade Center.’ So I said, ‘What are you talking about?’ So I told him, ‘What do you think Mossad called me on the phone and told me, yo, Steve, listen, stay home today. Some shits gonna go down in lower Manhattan?’ Ridiculous. Now, what was scary was I looked at everybody and it was like a real conversation…That was probably the first time that I smelled the wood burning…these old tropes of, controlling the media, the banking, Protocols of Zion…and they were seeping into my world, through my own social circles.””

Prior to this interaction Marcus had treated previous antisemitic or derogatory statements about his identity as a “rock in his shoe”, more an annoyance than anything. However this statement within his own long standing communities was too much to ignore. This behavior was dangerous. 

Prior to this interaction Marcus had treated previous antisemitic or derogatory statements about his identity as a “rock in his shoe”, more an annoyance than anything.

Then on Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year, Marcus’ father passed away unexpectedly. According to Jewish tradition, an individual that dies on Rosh Hashanah is considered a “tzaddik”, a holy or righteous person. The famed world shaker and political powerhouse Ruth Bader Ginsburg also passed away on Rosh Hashanah. Marcus was moved by the date of his fathers passing. The experience took him to a place he had never been before within his own internal world. “If it was just some day, I would have been like, damn my dad…but there’s this heavenly tapestry that’s being woven, and even though you can’t really see the picture, there’s some sort of like perfection within the architecture of not only my individual existence, but within our collective existence…Not everybody believes that. I happen to believe that.”

Until that point his Jewish identity, while it contained a strong foundation, was more an inherited trait for Marcus, rather than a self-claimed life. Following the death of his father Marcus decided to observe the halacha (Torah law, religious law) for mourners kaddish (prayer) following the death of a parent said three times a day for 11 months. “There is no other man in this world that wants me to do better than him, except for my father…He took me home from the hospital, and he showed up as my pops every day according to his best ability and his understanding…I realized, I can’t say something three times a day, one day short of 11 months for a guy that was there for me for 39 years of my life?”

In saying kaddish for his father, Marcus delved into another world, and undeniably stood out from the conformity of the crowd in a rather indiscreet and albeit comedic manner. “So I show up, had dreadlocks, black Harley Davidson t-shirt, chain wallet and all that stuff…Now I’m with a bunch of black hats, white shirts, everybody looks like a rabbi…I show up over there, I look like a hair in the soup.” From that initial experience Marcus has strengthened his Jewish identity through daily Talmud and Torah study. For the last fifteen years he has been a regular at Mesivta Tifereth Jerusalem yeshiva in the Lower East Side.  

In saying kaddish for his father, Marcus delved into another world, and undeniably stood out from the conformity of the crowd in a rather indiscreet and albeit comedic manner.

From his introduction into the Hasidic community Marcus has come to recognize and respect the principle upheld for generations of ultra-orthodox Jews, to remain seperate, both geographically as well as culturally from the majority of their host nations. “Since this relates to all that rebel stuff from my youth, I mean, I don’t think any of these rabbis that I know would say this, but the real truth is that these guys are rebel, you know, because they’re involved with society on their own terms. I respect that.”

He described how people often assume his past through the Jewish art that he creates, when in reality this is only a portion of his story. He recounted, “I was hardcore and wild as a young guy…now that I’m doing Jewish art people figure, oh, this dude, he got into a fixed marriage, and went to Hebrew school and did this whole thing. They just have these kinds of assumptions, stereotypes or prejudices.”

His work indeed combines camp, comedy, and quintessential Yiddishkeit language, but also carries distinct reflections of several counterculture periods and movements. Marcus’ identity and work sits within a paradigm that is inescapable for all diaspora Jewish communities, that of being wholly influenced by their host countries. He explained, “I’m from here, right? So, what’s the iconography and the language that affects me? It was from subculture: graffiti, hip hop, punk, hardcore…These were the things that informed me, this was my diaspora into these places. I was involved in all these things, and I’m still informed from my life experience. That information, that language impacts my work.” 

His work indeed combines camp, comedy, and quintessential Yiddishkeit language, but also carries distinct reflections of several counterculture periods and movements.

In 2017 Marcus combined the unorthodoxy of his early years in subcultural movements with the orthodoxy of hasidic style and experience in his exhibition Through the Hat, at The Jewish Museum of Florida – FIU. The exhibition included over 26 wood carved sculptures, Jewish ritual objects, hand drawn works of art on paper and custom synagogue furniture. (source: Steve Marcus website) 

One of his pen and ink creations, The Wandering Jews, features a band of rough riding holy men making their way on motorcycles across a desert terrain. One of the central figures flashes a gesture that most would associate with the ever famous “live long and prosper” Vulcan hand signal of Leonard Nemoy. Few realize this gesture is rooted in the Jewish Priestly Blessing, performed by Kohanim, or Jewish priests, during the time of the Beit HaMikdash (Holy Temple) in ancient Jerusalem. Marcus has placed his own badass and hilarious spin on a classic Jewish trope. The wandering Jew rides with the “great big matzo balls” of a Hells Angel.  

The Outlaw Minyan, commemorates Marcus first experience into the world of deep religion when saying kaddish for his father. The individual men in this portrait are a collection of “hairs in the soup” with their chain wallets, Harley Davidson t-shirts, mohawks, handle-bar mustaches, and overgrown beards. They are outlaws engaged in a quorum of code and diligent prayer, wrapping their tefillin as holy men, a reflection of the duality of Marcus’ own identity and journey.  

Outsiders often perceive the Jewish people as a monolith, unaware of the inherent diversity in world Jewry. Marcus’ work combats the idea of this one dimensional entity through his artistic endeavours. He explained, “whether you’re Jewish or you’re not Jewish, you could look at the artwork and enjoy it, first and foremost…Now the flip side is to get into the Jewish part of it…there’s a lot of diversity within global Jewry…I know a lot of different kinds of Jewish people, so I try to make it accessible to all of them…if you’re super religious, like in this piece of art with The Wandering Jews, anybody who like has ever seen that kind of image knows that there should probably should be a big circle for a sun in there, or a sunset coming. But the fact of the matter is, by Halacha, which is the Jewish law, you’re not allowed to make images of the sun…So, if you’re a super religious person you could look at that, have that in your house.”

Outsiders often perceive the Jewish people as a monolith, unaware of the inherent diversity in world Jewry

While Marcus’ work has the potential to be inherently niche to the world of Judaism and Jewish culture, he takes great care in making pieces that can be enjoyed by diverse audiences. Something for everyone. For Marcus’ art loses its purpose when it is used in the name of polarization, becoming only understood or applicable to one singular community.

He expounded on this idea, “to me, art shouldn’t be weaponized. It happens to be in vogue to weaponize your creative endeavors…It should be something that brings us together, rather than further drives a wedge and contributes to divisiveness.” Marcus combats the tendency to divide by familiarizing himself with and incorporating distinguished cultural aspects of the locales where his art will be displayed. This practice is very important to Marcus, that the local community sees themself and their culture incorporated into the works.   

 For Marcus’ art loses its purpose when it is used in the name of polarization, becoming only understood or applicable to one singular community.

From June 2023-January 2024 Marcus’ exhibition Jewish Quarter Pipe, Kosher Pop Sk8 Art at the Galicia Jewish Museum in Krakow Poland presented a layered view of Jewish and Polish culture fixed on the approachable canvas of a skate deck.

The St. Mary’s Spice Box Skateboard Deck depicts the Church of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin in Krakow, but with a twist. Designated a UNESCO world heritage site in 1978 Marcus’ rendition of the well known gothic cathedral is presented as an ornate havdalah (a ceremony that marks the end of shabbat and the start of the week) spice box. These ritual objects are filled with sweet smelling spices and crafted with immense detail and adornment, not dissimilar from a cathedral. The combination of imagery from both cultural paradigms, Jewish and Polish, becomes a representation of cultural and visual unity.   

One of Marcus’ favorite decks, Tattooed Numbers Skateboard Deck, deals with reframing and redefining Jewish history. The deck features a series of numbers, 110-541-18, the gematria (the practice of assigning a numerical value to words, letters, or names) for Am Yisrael Chai, translated to ‘the people of Israel live’. Only a few decades ago near the city of Krakow the horrors of Auschwitz persisted. There Jews were stripped of their names and received numbers, tattooed on their arms, robbing them of their humanity. This deck reforms that devastation as a statement of survival. The events of the past must never be forgotten, however they can be transformed from symbols of oppression to ones of renewal, commemoration, and continuation. 

The affability of Marcus’ style, built in large part around his years of social rebellion, is a testament to the artist’s ability of displaying the nuanced narrative of identity. From the early 90s Marcus designed works that provided a visual marker for the legalization journey of marijuana. His pieces have been featured in several exhibitions and publications including High Times Magazine.

In June 2025 Marcus will display some of his newest posters, comics, and drug related paraphernalia at the Maryland Jewish Museum in Baltimore entitled Psychedelicatessen: A Dose of the Art of Steve Marcus.

He expanded on a few of the inspirations for the show, “It’s super hilarious. There’s a guy who I’m a huge fan of named Gilbert Sheldon. He was an underground comic guy in the 60s from Texas. He did this thing called the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers. It’s basically about these furry, freaky, druggie kind of dudes and their adventures…I read it since I was a teenager.” Marcus’ revels in his own take on the classic comic with his own series of posters and comic strips in what he has dubbed as the Fabulous Furry Frum Brothers. “They’re on some totally stupid kind of Jewish trip…I translated all the comic bubbles, it’s all in Yiddish. Even if you can’t read it, it’s hilarious. You just look at it and you know, this is some funny shit.”

In addition to the posters and comics Marcus also created a series of blotter acid sheets adorned with classic Jewish gastronomic signifiers as well as the visages of famous rabbis and tzaddikim. He spent a great deal of his travels visiting the graves of noted rabbinic figures. He recounted, “I got connected with Caleb Kesey, who’s the grandson of Ken Kesey of the electric Kool Aid acid test and of the Further Bus…So his grandson printed the art for me on this blotter paper…because it’s Psychedelicatessen, there’s a collection of deli ones, like pastrami, Dr Brown’s, mustard, knishes, whatever. Then there is a series called Rabbinic Trips.” The show is a combination of his psychedelic history, Hasidic knowledge, and essential drollness. A timeline of his life experiences and interests.

 

Over the last few decades, Marcus has come to the realization that the counterculture and subculture movements in which he was involved in during his youth indeed provided him with an outlet to express his anger and disappointment of a failed and overly uniformed world. However,  Judaism supplied the artist with a framework to maintain his true identity as a subversive individual, but exercising it in a positive and constructive manner. He concluded, “For me, that’s been good, and I don’t put that on anybody else…I have to now step out to represent my contribution to that diversity, which, in my case, is Jewish. That’s my contribution to fighting that homogenization by representing my own identity. I think that’s important.”

Written by Leigh Pennington