Welcome, 

This is the website for The Boris Tsynman Project, named in honor and memory of my great-grandfather, Boris Tsynman. This project was, in a way, started by him but later completed by me. For over a decade, my great-grandfather served as curator of two collections of artwork by the artist Lazar Ran. He helped bring them to the United States and presented them at many art shows and museums. After his death, the role of curator passed to me, and I was tasked by my family with finding a final destination for the artwork.  

The artwork was created by Lazar Ran, a Holocaust survivor who used art to help him process the loss he experienced during the war. These works serve as a testament to his legacy and were a passion project for my late great-grandfather. The art exists in two separate collections: first, a collection of lithographs of famous Yiddish writers, and second, a collection of etchings depicting life in the Minsk Ghetto.  

On this website, you will find historical context about the Holocaust in Eastern Europe and Belarus, information about Lazar Ran, how the artwork came to the United States, details about the two collections, my great-grandfather, and much more. It is recommended that you do not use a phone for viewing this website. 

Ever since I was young, I knew how much art mattered to my great-grandfather, and I was often told about this artwork. It was not until after his death that I truly began to learn much more. I wish I could have begun this project while he was still alive so that I could have learned from his wisdom and the great amount of knowledge he had about this subject. My great-grandfather dreamed that this artwork would be preserved for future generations. In many ways, I believe it served as his therapy after surviving the war. He endured a deeply painful life: losing his mother before the war, his father remarrying, and then being left effectively orphaned while his father was away in the army, at times believed to be missing in action or dead. For him, this artwork and the hope of preserving it became a symbol of remembrance — a reminder that if we forget the past, we are bound to repeat it. It was his way of honoring everything he lost. I am incredibly proud to be able to fulfill his dream, and it is my hope that this website will allow me to do so.  

Josh A. Elkind