On February 21, 1519, the citizens of Regensburg tore down the synagogue of the venerable Jewish community, whose documented existence in the city dated to circa 1000, making it at the time the oldest Jewish community in Germany. As in many German cities throughout the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, razing the synagogue signaled the onset of expulsion. As he sketched the synagogue interior, Albrecht Altdorfer knew the expulsion was imminent; he sat on the same city council that gave the Jews two days to clear the synagogue and five days to evacuate the city. Edicts of expulsion did not mandate that citizens tear down synagogues, but this was the usual way, with Christian churches symbolizing victory atop the rubble of Jewish houses of worship. Yet in Altdorfer's etching, it is the overwhelming sense of architectural durability, supported by massive arches, that strikes us. To heighten the synagogue's solidity, Altdorfer illuminated its supporting walls, vaults, and the column on the left with fiercer light than realism demanded. In the etching, the actual light comes from a window, with the light of the protective Star of David casting a faint shadow beyond the man leaving the synagogue for the last time. The man looks at us as his shadow reaches toward us, as if to implicate us in his fate. But the pull of history is with the woman before him, and she exits the door into a space where there is no light.