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August 24, 2016

A Moment in Time: A Closer Look

Dear all,

My friend Lucy once told me, “Zach, you have smile wrinkles!” I didn't know if it was a compliment or a light-hearted insult.  After all, I do smile a lot.  Right?! 

Sometimes taking a closer look can be scary.  It can reveal truths, putting us face to face with realities from which we often want to hide.

But taking a closer look can also open doors of wonder….

Take a closer look into the eyes of the photo of an ancestor.
Take a closer look into the eyes of an infant.
Take a closer look at the reaction of a pedestrian when you stop fully at a crosswalk! (Take a closer look at the reaction of a pedestrian when you DON'T stop fully at crosswalk!)
Take a closer look at our daily schedule.  Are we prioritizing that which is truly important?
Take a closer look at what we are eating.
Take a closer look into how our souls have evolved this year. 

Indeed, take a moment in time for a closer look. It will enable us to then step back and better understand the depth of our world.

With love and shalom,

Rabbi Zach Shapiro

A Moment in Time: A Closer Look Read More »

‘Talent’ intrigues in portrait of cellist Paul Katz, students

Only a master documentarian can show a master teacher at work. 

In “Talent Has Hunger,” an unsentimental, pitch-perfect film, Oscar-nominated director Josh Aronson does that and more: He makes us care about the lives of four gifted cello students over a seven-year period in Paul Katz’s studio at the New England Conservatory in Boston. 

“Talent Has Hunger,” which opens at Laemmle Theatres for a two-day special engagement on Aug. 29, features young Lev, whom Katz calls “a raw prodigy” in the film. Lev comes from a biracial family (his mother is American-Jewish; his father is a cardiologist from Tanzania) and has been taking cello lessons since age 3. When filming began, Lev was 10 and Katz was 67.

There’s also Sebastian, a “wanderer” who is uncertain of where his talent will take him, and Emileigh, who discovers a powerful gift for teaching and inspiring others. Lastly, there’s Nick, who has what Katz calls a “hunger” driving him toward a solo or symphony orchestra career.

Katz, a Los Angeles native who attended Compton High School, served as cellist for the renowned Cleveland Quartet for 26 years. His former students include Dutch cellist Pieter Wispelwey and Robert deMaine, principal cellist of the Los Angeles Philharmonic, who plans to attend the Aug. 29 show at the Ahrya Fine Arts theater on Wilshire Boulevard in Beverly Hills, joining Katz and several other former students in a post-screening discussion.

For Aronson, who was nominated for an Academy Award for “Sound and Fury” (2000) and who directed “Orchestra of Exiles” (2012), about the founding of what would become the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra, “Talent Has Hunger” is about more than mastering the art of cello playing. It’s about the struggle for identity.

“I’m looking for a search for identity in my characters,” Aronson said by phone from New York. “I’m interested in who we are and how we find ourselves. With musicians, it’s a calling.”

Indeed, it’s a very tough, demanding calling. At one point in the documentary, Katz listens to Sebastian in class and says what’s strong about his performance, then adds frankly, “I wasn’t actually that crazy about your cello playing. It doesn’t really feel polished. I don’t feel you’ve got control of the bow or the sound.”  

Such a public display of tough love before Aronson’s camera surprised Katz. 

“That’s the most amazing part of the movie,” Katz said by phone from the Marlboro Music Festival in Vermont. “Josh knows how to make people comfortable. He lets people who are passionate about something talk about their passion. I became so immersed with the students, I almost wasn’t aware of the camera.”

But Katz, who said he didn’t see the Sebastian scene until five years after it was filmed, felt “stunned” by its honesty. His first thought was to protect his students.

“Josh had creative control, but I had two rights,” Katz said. “I could veto anything that didn’t reflect my educational philosophy, or anything I thought was detrimental to my students. When I saw the movie, I relaxed. Everybody was articulate. He captured everybody being themselves.”

“Talent Has Hunger” remains so disciplined in its focus that even when a charismatic Wispelwey visits Katz’s studio for a master class, Aronson’s camera stays on the students. Remarkably natural and unselfconscious, the students also seem to forget about the camera. Aronson said this was achieved by being “very patient” and spending a significant amount of time with the musicians.

“They got to know me,” said Aronson, who is an amateur pianist married to professional violinist Maria Bachmann. “I wasn’t threatening. The trick is to become like wallpaper — I hope beloved wallpaper.”

For Katz, one of the more difficult questions “Talent Has Hunger” poses is whether creativity can be taught. “How do we teach it and pass it on?” Katz asks at the beginning of the film. “What’s the best way to develop an artist?”

Katz said all of his students somehow come out sounding different. “You have to give them permission to show what they feel,” Katz said, “how to develop and project mood and character. I love to teach that. I don’t want students to play for my validation, and I don’t want them walking onstage thinking of pleasing everybody.”

The cellist’s own mentors include Gregor Piatigorsky, Leonard Rose, Bernard Greenhouse (cellist for the Beaux Arts Trio), and the Hungarian-American János Starker. Greenhouse and Starker make memorable appearances in the film. 

“Starker was a terrifying, intimidating presence in my life, but he was also a doctor for what ailed you,” Katz said. “He could look at your hands and show you how to fix problems, how to be physically comfortable. He developed the virtuoso side of your playing.”

Katz said one scene in “Talent Has Hunger” gave him goosebumps. “It’s when Josh shows Emileigh teaching her students in Project STEP [a string program in Boston for minorities]. She’s such a motivational force. I think she’ll change lives.” 

Added Katz: “If I didn’t become a musician, I might have become a social worker. My father wanted to become a musician, but his parents said no. His talent had hunger, but it was never fulfilled. My sister and I saved up and bought him an oboe. In his 50s, he started playing for the Compton Civic Symphony [and with other orchestras].” 

At one point in the interview, Katz asked, “How do we know our passions? What leads us?” Perhaps for both Katz and Aronson, Judaism provided a strong cultural backbone to their careers. “Though not exclusively, the way we value culture, the pursuit of excellence and achievement, are Jewish values,” Katz said.

Aronson, who is on tour for his new book, “Orchestra of Exiles,” co-written with Denise George, said he wanted to flesh out the story of the Israel Philharmonic’s founding. But for now, “Talent Has Hunger” is in the spotlight.

“I wanted to give viewers a front-row seat with a master teacher,” Aronson said. “Concert-goers can take musicians for granted, but it takes a lifetime of work for them to get there. My hope is that people will never see a concert in the same way again.”


“Talent Has Hunger” will be showing at Laemmle Theatres on Aug. 29-30. For more information, visit ‘Talent’ intrigues in portrait of cellist Paul Katz, students Read More »

Tough love for Black Lives Matter

You have to hand it to Black Lives Matter. They have cojones. At a time when so many people are worried about being politically correct, they sign off on a platform that accuses the Jewish state of committing genocide. Genocide! Jews! Weren’t the folks at BLM worried that such incendiary and libelous language would be hurtful to millions of Jews?

Apparently, not so much.

“The way we look at it, we take strong stances,” Ben Ndugga-Kabuye, co-author of the passage in the BLM platform that accuses Israel of genocide, told JTA in defending the accusation. Strong stance, indeed.

So far, the reaction in the mainstream Jewish community has been to compartmentalize — condemn the genocide accusation but reaffirm the Jewish commitment to Black rights and what BLM stands for.

I think it’s an honorable approach, but it’s also a missed opportunity.

Why limit ourselves to the few words in the BLM platform that have to do with Jews and Israel? In the same way that BLM decided to take on Israel with a “strong stance,” why can’t the Jewish community take on all of BLM with an equally strong stance?

In other words, why don’t we look at the whole BLM movement and offer constructive criticism?

In that spirit, my own criticism of BLM is that the movement lacks introspection. It’s virtually all about what others can do to make Black lives better. One can sympathize with many of its grievances and demands and yet still ask: What about the obligations of Black communities themselves? What about issues of personal responsibility?

In 2008, as a presidential candidate, Barack Obama touched on one example when he spoke candidly to a Black church congregation: “Too many fathers are M.I.A.; too many fathers are AWOL, missing from too many lives and too many homes,” he told them. “They have abandoned their responsibilities … and the foundations of our families are weaker because of it.”

When you insist on obligations in addition to rights, you empower people. You bring out the best in them. BLM needs to incorporate Black obligations into its platform. It would strengthen the movement and make Black lives matter even more.

I am also critical of BLM’s use of over-the-top polemic. Language like “In a world where Black lives are systemically and intentionally targeted for demise” and “End the war on Black people” may convey revolutionary fervor, but it is neither accurate nor conducive to finding solutions. It alienates potential partners and reinforces a stagnating mindset of chronic victimhood.

This kind of criticism, I know, is painful to make, especially for Jews. We have a proud and longtime association with Black causes. We never want to be accused of being insensitive to the plight of Blacks. We have suffered from our own ugly history of being persecuted as a minority, so we see a great Jewish value in being sensitive to other vulnerable minorities.

This may explain why we often walk on eggshells when it comes to the Black community. We care. We want to help. The very name Black Lives Matter is like a shot of moral adrenaline to a Jewish heart. 

But maybe it’s time for us to step up our game. Maybe we can broaden our definition of what “help” means. Maybe, in addition to continuing our fight for Black causes, we can add some tough love and constructive criticism.

If there’s one thing Jews have learned throughout our long history, it is that self-criticism and balancing rights with obligations are foundational pillars to improving lives and building a better future.

For me to hold back on my criticism of BLM would not be a sign of love, but a sign of patronizing behavior, what some have called “the bigotry of low expectations.” A healthy relationship between Jews and Blacks is one where both sides can feel free to take a “strong stance.” 

If BLM has the cojones to make incendiary accusations against the Jewish state, the least we can do is have the courage to offer honest criticism of the movement.


David Suissa is president of TRIBE Media Corp./Jewish Journal and can be reached at davids@jewishjournal.com.

Tough love for Black Lives Matter Read More »

Keeping alive the pre-war golden age of Jewish music

Even as life for German Jews grew ever more constrictive in the early 1930s, a Berlin bookseller named Hirsch Lewin started his Semer record label, beginning the audio documentation of a little-known golden age of Jewish music. 

That the archive should be lost in the ensuing decades would surprise no one, especially after his store was attacked and 4,500 recordings were destroyed. By some tiny miracle, though, most of the Semer catalog has been collected, and a present-day band — based in Berlin — performs that repertory to great acclaim.

A selection of the Semer songs made for a well-received 2012 concert at the Berlin Jewish Museum, and its success begat a 2015 performance, now available as a CD, “Rescued Treasure” (Piranha). The sounds and genres of the music represented, though varied, punch into a collective trove of memory like a swallow of sweet Manischewitz.

Keeping that musical legacy alive is 61-year-old Alan Bern, an American living in Berlin who heads the Semer Ensemble octet. He’s best known for Brave Old World, the klezmer band he co-founded in the early ’90s after his tenure in Hankus Netsky’s Klezmer Conservatory band. Bern, who plays accordion and piano, has found a renewed sense of mission in his Semer Ensemble and its music. 

“I’m bringing back to life a nearly forgotten body of recorded work by Jewish artists in the 1930s,” he said by phone from Berlin. “The instrumental level of the performances on these records is so high that its absence would be like a decade of classical music history had been lost.”

Operating out of the Scheunenviertel, Berlin’s Boyle Heights, Lewin sold all manner of Jewish-themed books at his Hebräische Buchhandlung store on the old Grenadierstrasse. In 1933, it was decreed that German Jews could only perform for Jewish audiences and record for Jewish-owned record companies, and for five years he worked at a fever pitch, recording as many artists as he was able.

“Most of those musicians,” Bern points out, “were trained symphony and chamber music players. They had to do something with their talents. Some of the recordings are of Jewish music, some of international music, like chanson, theater and cabaret. There are even a couple of straight German beer-drinking songs.”

“Rescued Treasure” is made up of a dozen pieces from the Semer catalog, performed somewhere between scrupulous reproduction and modern individual interpretation. 

“I try to be faithful to the purity of any music,” Bern stressed, “whether it’s Hungarian Gypsy music or bebop. Then I ask, what part of me can I bring to this? I’m of the post-Coltrane, post-Hendrix generation; when we have material that requires wailing — like ‘Das Kind Liegt in Wigele,’ where a child’s mother dies — we felt we had to really push it.” 

A native of Bloomington, Ind., Bern’s parents were of Eastern European stock and Yiddish was spoken at home. “I was raised to be a true-blue American,” Bern said grinning. 

At Indiana University, he recalls a culture where cello icon János Starker (1924-2013), a Distinguished Professor of Music, would unwind at post-recital parties by playing klezmer tunes with his friends. “People my age were calling into question the idea of our identity — like, what was Ashkenazi culture before it was dissolved into America?”

The klezmer revival of the ’80s coincided with interest in ethnic and cultural identity. “We discovered,” Bern said, “that our own ancestral sound is the music of our grandfathers. But we didn’t have the entire spectrum of Ashkenazi culture available to us — we only had fragments. It was a fascinating mystery to try and piece that puzzle together; I compare it to archaeology.” 

Bern prevailed upon singer, keyboardist and Klezmatics founder Lorin Sklamberg to be a featured performer for the 2015 concert. As sound archivist at New York’s YIVO Institute for Jewish Research, Sklamberg was aware of the Semer recordings. 

“I knew Rainer Lotz, who reassembled almost all of the Semer catalog,” Sklamberg said from his New York home. “The music was interesting to me because I realized the huge variety of the material; it was extremely diverse. The performers who made these recordings were quite phenomenal singers and instrumentalists. They weren’t field recordings.”  

The recordings remain a source of inspiration for the likes of Bern.

“Berlin in the 1920s and ’30s was a terrible place to be a Jewish musician,” Bern said. “But the music of Semer shows that even as things got worse and worse, there were still good things to be done — and therefore hope.”

Keeping alive the pre-war golden age of Jewish music Read More »

What turns many Jews away from Trump energizes his Jewish supporters

In August 2015, the American Jewish Committee (AJC) asked 1,030 American Jews to name their favored candidate in the following year’s presidential primaries. Hillary Clinton was the clear winner with 39.7 percent, followed by Bernie Sanders with 17.8 percent. Donald Trump came in third with 10.2 percent, more than any of the other nine Republicans named.

A majority of Jews will almost certainly line up behind the Democrat in the November election: The same AJC poll found 48.6 percent of American Jews identify as Democrats, compared with 19 percent who say they are Republicans.

But some of the same factors that have turned many voters off Trump — his unyielding stance on immigration and fondness for insult, for instance — are some of what’s driving another group of Jewish voters, even some in liberal Los Angeles, to support his candidacy.

“I like the idea that somebody fresh and new and a little bit vulgar is getting ahead,” said Culver City resident Leslie Fuhrer Friedman, who attends the Pacific Jewish Center on Venice Beach.

“Does he say uncouth things?” she said. “Of course. You know, he’s kind of like an Israeli in the Knesset. He’s a little rude.”

For all the offense many Jews have taken to the Republican’s musings, others have found a set of reasons, specifically Jewish ones, to support him — from his close relationship with his Orthodox son-in-law, Jared Kushner, to his disdain for an administration many feel has disrespected Israel.

And then there are some Republican Jews who see Trump’s candidacy as merely the lesser of two evils.

Brian Goldenfeld, a Woodland Hills paralegal who contributes to the Republican Jewish Coalition (RJC), said he’s disappointed with both candidates but doesn’t view Clinton as an acceptable option.

“I don’t think just because you’re conservative you have to support Trump,” he said. “But what other alternative do we have?”

For its part, the RJC has offered Trump its lukewarm support: When it became clear he would be the party’s nominee, the RJC released a statement congratulating him, but it has yet to endorse him.

Yet there’s a sense, at least among the Jewish Trump supporters interviewed for this article, that his shoot-from-the-hip style allows him to speak political truths others avoid, especially on issues of foreign policy.

Clinton “has never admitted there is such a thing as Islamic terrorism,” said Phillip Springer, a World War II veteran who lives in Pacific Palisades.

Springer said he supports Trump because he sees him as the candidate most suited to protect the United States from terrorist attacks of the type that are increasingly common in Europe.

“He does not want New York to turn into Paris and Washington to turn into Brussels,” Springer said. “That will happen if the gates are opened to anybody that’s trying to get into this country.”

Among some of L.A.’s Iranian Jews, Trump has won support by loudly rejecting the Iran nuclear deal authored by the Barack Obama administration.

“It struck a very bad chord for us,” Alona Hassid, 29, a real estate attorney, said of the agreement. “The deal was no good.”

Hassid said many Iranian-American Jews like her parents, who fled the Islamic revolution, have trouble stomaching any kind of engagement between America and the current Iranian regime. Recent revelations that the U.S. leveraged a $400 million payment due Iran in order to secure the release of American prisoners only make matters worse.

“These are not people that you can negotiate with and make a deal with and hope that the deal will work out,” Hassid said.

Hassid said the great majority of her friends support Trump, though many shy away from saying so publicly for fear of reprisal.

Michael Mahgerefteh, 45, a Beverly Hills resident born in Tehran, said many Persian Jews fault the Obama administration for not projecting an air of strength that would help shield Israel from her enemies.

“A lot of us feel like Israel is our country, more than the U.S., or Iran even,” he said. “All the stuff that’s happened in the last seven or eight years, which I think Hillary will continue, is bad for Israel — not just the Iran deal, but just the way that when the U.S. gets weaker, the bad people in the world, the terrorists, feel stronger. They fill in the void.”

But Mahgerefteh doesn’t have to look past America’s borders for a reason to support the Republican nominee. Many Iranian immigrants feel the freedoms that helped them climb the socio-economic ladder here are under assault, he said.

“If you want to work hard or go to school or do whatever you want, there’s always been a lot of opportunity here,” he said. “But it feels like that’s changing, mostly in the last seven or eight years.”

He added, “It might be irreversible after that.”

Steven Windmueller, an emeritus professor at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion who studies American Jewish political behavior, predicted that Jewish support for the Republican will decline compared with previous years due to Trump’s unpolished rhetoric and his failure to adequately disavow anti-Semitic supporters such as one-time Ku Klux Klan leader David Duke.

But some Persian Jews, along with Israelis, Russian Jewish immigrants and the Orthodox, constitute a “Republican emersion” that defies the Jewish liberal mainstream.

“Persians and Israelis come to this out of a sense of grave concern for national security, for protecting Israel, for isolating Iran and all the sort of foreign policy pieces,” Windmueller said.

As for observant Jews, polling indicates they are more likely to take a politically conservative stance out of concern for Israel’s security. In a 2013 Pew Research Center poll, 34 percent of Orthodox Jews in the U.S. said they believe Jewish settlements in the West Bank help Israel’s security, compared with 16 percent who say they hurt it. Among Reform Jews, the numbers flip: 50 percent say settlements hurt Israel’s security while only 13 percent say they help.

Yet the majority of American Jews are not observant, and supporting the Republican candidate has long been a minority position in Jewish L.A. If anything, Trump’s candidacy has made it even worse.

After Friedman put up a George W. Bush lawn sign in 2004, an Israeli friend ripped the sign out of the ground and stomped on it to demonstrate his opposition. But this election foists an additional stigma on backers of the Republican candidate: that supporting Trump makes them bigots.

“That’s one of the accusations that they throw out,” she said. “You’re probably not educated or you’re married to your cousins.”

“People just try to bully you,” Mahgerefteh said of his experience as a Trump supporter. “They say, ‘Only certain type of people are behind Trump.’ ”

As a result, many Republican voters have learned to remain wary when political conversations arise.

“If it’s not going to be a healthy debate,” Hassid said, “I’m not going to bring it up.”

What turns many Jews away from Trump energizes his Jewish supporters Read More »

‘Hunger’: Addressing an everyday problem in the U.S.

In 1997, a woman named Molly found a note tacked to the door of her $3 million house in a wealthy suburb of Detroit. The notice informed her that her home was going to be sold off at auction in just 30 days.

It turned out that her husband had stopped paying the mortgage, sold all the couple’s assets and sunk money into a business deal that had bankrupted the family. 

Molly divorced her husband and secured modest jobs to support herself and her children, then had to stop working after being diagnosed with breast cancer. Neighbors brought over food while she was undergoing chemotherapy. But when the treatments concluded, Molly was left with no job and no income to feed her family.

One day she found herself standing outside a supermarket with less than $2 in her pocket, hungry and crying because she didn’t know what she could possibly buy with that paltry sum. She was embarrassed when a neighbor saw her and suggested she visit a local food bank; in better days, Molly had donated to such charities and never imagined that she would need one herself. But she swallowed her pride and began frequenting the agency, even though, on one occasion, she recognized some of the volunteers as parents from her children’s school and promptly left.

“She went through this horrible emotional turmoil,” said Barbara Grover, the photographer who snapped Molly’s picture and recorded an interview with her for an upcoming multimedia touring exhibition, “This Is Hunger,” currently in development by the nonprofit MAZON: A Jewish Response to Hunger (mazon.org). In the portrait, the former cancer patient radiates melancholy, wearing what appears to be a designer suit from better days.

Photographer Barbara Grover. Photo courtesy of Scarlet Works

Molly is one of some 70 individuals suffering food insecurity that Grover photographed and interviewed around the United States. The portraits and first-person narratives create a surprising, intimate image of hunger in this country, showing that it could be happening to anyone, anywhere. MAZON’s educational, interactive exhibition will travel the country, displayed inside a specially designed trailer of a big-rig truck, launching its tour in Los Angeles from Nov. 16-Dec. 18. 

“It’s a unique, engaging and empowering approach to exposing [people] … to the true experience of hunger in the United States,” Abby J. Leibman, MAZON’s president and CEO, wrote in an email. The show’s message is intended to raise awareness among MAZON’s synagogue partners and other organizations, as well as to help build new partnerships throughout the country. “We hope to educate and activate our partners to work together with us to make meaningful policy change that will help to end hunger in the United States,” Leibman said.

Grover found a number of her subjects at trailer homes and at soup kitchens, food pantries and other centers where people go for help. She met with them in Jackson, Miss.; rural Montana; on a Native American reservation in Arizona and elsewhere. Shooting with a Canon EOS 5D Mark II, she captured an image of a retired teacher who had moved in with her son and his family but had to work cleaning motel rooms so the household could — barely — make ends meet. Other subjects include a woman caring for three grandchildren whose parents were struggling with issues such as addiction and incarceration; a couple who survived a harsh Tennessee winter in their car even while the woman was in the late months of pregnancy; and a former automotive worker who lost his job when his company took its business overseas.

“I’ve had grown men break down and cry in front of me,” Grover said during an interview at her Silver Lake home, which displays some of the photographs she has taken in some 40 countries over the years. “A lot of these people just had their lives fall apart — not because of anything they did, but because of what was imposed on them.”

The downward spiral into food insecurity often begins with traumatic life events, like illness or divorce, then becomes exacerbated by a complicated welfare system that can seem insurmountable to navigate, Grover said. If a person makes even $1 more than the threshold allowed for government assistance, for example, the benefits will stop. “It’s hard enough for people to go to these [welfare] offices because of shame,” Grover said.

During her travels, Grover said, “I saw a lot of empty refrigerators … and most of the people didn’t get enough food to feel sated during the day.”

“Among [interviewees] who went to food banks, I saw a lot of substandard food they had to survive on. Ramen is the national food of those who make a certain income, because it’s cheap and it’s filling.” And in areas where convenience stores offer the only groceries around, Grover found families subsisting on empty calories, such as tortillas and Cheez Whiz. “They were eating food that made them feel bad,” she said.

When MAZON’s Leibman asked Grover to sign on to the project about six years ago, the photographer was immediately drawn to the proposed exhibition’s emphasis on education and advocacy. From her early childhood in a Jewish family in Van Nuys, Grover said, “I tried to fight for the underdog.” While in her mid-teens, Grover took the bus around Los Angeles for a school project, capturing stories of immigrants with her Polaroid camera and tape recorder. “I wanted to give them a voice,” she said. “I felt people didn’t really understand what they were going through.”

Early in her career, she worked as a political consultant, then, in the 1990s, she became a full-time photojournalist, often sharing the stories of marginalized people. She won the prestigious Ernst Haas award for her images of the Los Angeles riots, and her work has been published in periodicals from Time magazine to Stern. Today, Grover primarily shoots for nonprofits and international humanitarian organizations, including the Jerusalem Foundation and Whole Child International.

Along the way, she has created exhibitions such as “This Land to Me — Some Call it Palestine, Others Israel,” focused on Jews and Arabs in locations as diverse as refugee camps and at the Western Wall. For her multimedia piece “The Women of Iridimi,” she photographed the everyday lives of refugees who had escaped the genocide in Darfur.

It was that body of work, made with the nonprofit Jewish World Watch, that captured Leibman’s attention when she first envisioned the “This Is Hunger” exhibition some years ago. “Barbara Grover was well known to us from her work in using photojournalism to advance Jewish social justice efforts,” Leibman said. “In particular, her powerful work with Jewish World Watch in bringing to life the tragic circumstances of the refugees from the genocide in Darfur, Sudan, made her the ideal choice. … Barbara has a remarkable way of making her subjects comfortable enough to share deeply personal and vitally important stories; her camera is able to capture the nuanced emotional reactions of her subjects that draws the viewer in and creates a real connection between the subject and viewer.”

With Leibman’s help, Grover contacted groups that help the hungry in about nine regions across the United States. But the interviews didn’t come easily. Many of the organizations were protective of their clients or did not know their names and addresses. 

“So I would land somewhere and go looking at school feeding programs or where people would sign up for food stamps,” Grover said. “I would go anywhere and everywhere. I would just show up.” Her persistence paid off; she succeeded in persuading some 70 people to sit for multi-hour interviews, as well as allow her to shoot their portraits. “They instilled tremendous trust in me as they unveiled some of the most private and humiliating things in their lives,” said Grover, who took a total of 1,334 pictures for the project.

One portion of her work focuses on food insecurity among people serving in the military and their families, spurred by a MAZON project to throw light on the hidden trials of this largely unknown population-in-need. In San Diego, Grover met Ashley, whose husband is a petty officer on a Navy warship. “A full-time clerk at Taco Bell makes more than my husband,” Grover was told by Ashley, who has a young daughter with her husband, and, at the time, was pregnant with her second child.

Ashley with her husband and daughter in their yard in San Diego. Photo by Barbara Grover

When Ashley’s husband joined the military, she said, “I didn’t think it was going to be all sunsets and roses, but I didn’t expect that we’d have to eat Ramen seven nights a week because that’s what we could afford.” The family’s income is $100 per month above the limit to qualify for food stamps. In one photo, the pregnant Ashley stoically sorts through the cans of SpagettiOs, boxes of sweet cereal and other less-than-healthy staples she had gotten from a local food bank.

When another professional photographer viewed Grover’s work for MAZON, “his initial reaction was, ‘This project has a real problem: These people don’t look hungry,’ ” Grover recalled. “I looked at him and said, ‘That’s exactly the point. Hunger is everywhere, and it can be hidden… It can be your neighbor, your sister; it could be you or me.’” 

‘Hunger’: Addressing an everyday problem in the U.S. Read More »

Israeli soldier stabbed by Palestinian assailant in West Bank

An Israeli soldier was stabbed in an attack by a Palestinian assailant near the Jewish settlement of Yitzhar in the northern West Bank.

The stabber was shot and killed by the injured soldier at the scene of the attack on Wednesday afternoon.

Prior to the stabbing, rocks were thrown at several Israeli soldiers from a passing car. The soldiers forced the car off the road, and then faced the stabber, who exited the vehicle.

The soldier was evacuated from the scene for medical treatment, according to the Israel Defense Forces.

The IDF is investigating the attack.

Israeli soldier stabbed by Palestinian assailant in West Bank Read More »

A homecoming for Olim

Elissa Einhorn first wanted to make aliyah (emigrate to Israel) 30 years ago, but her late father, a Holocaust survivor who was convinced America was the best place in the world, didn’t support her dream. 

So, the 56-year-old writer from Sacramento stifled the urge to relocate to the Jewish homeland until last summer when, on a mission to Israel with Honest Reporting, a media watchdog that monitors coverage of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, her desire to make aliyah was rekindled.

“I was surprised that all those emotions came back after 30 years, so I just decided to really think about whether I can really do this. I’m not a young person anymore, and, uh,” she said, beginning to cry as she spoke onboard an Aug. 17 chartered Nefesh B’Nefesh flight, “it’s just unbelievable I’m on this plane.”

Founded in 2001, Nefesh B’Nefesh (NBN) facilitates aliyah for people from North America and the United Kingdom. The organization works with numerous agencies, including the Jewish Agency for Israel, Israel’s Ministry of Aliyah and Immigration Absorption, and the Jewish National Fund-USA in making the aliyah process as smooth as possible. The organization crossed the threshold of bringing its 50,000th oleh (immigrant) on last week’s charter flight.

From left: San Fernando Valley residents Lidor Asulin, Natalie Rubinstein and Tamir Marom were among those onboard the Nefesh B’Nefesh flight. Photo by Ryan Torok 

The plane, which departed New York’s John F. Kennedy International Airport (JFK) on Aug. 16, carried 223 olim (people making aliyah) who, incuding Einhorn, have followed through with their wish of moving to Israel. The plane landed in Israel at Ben Gurion International Airport on the morning of Aug. 17. Those on board included 75 young adults who are making aliyah with the intention of joining the Israel Defense Forces (IDF), with women outnumbering men, 41 to 34. 

There were 13 people from California on board, including three 18-year-olds from the San Fernando Valley who are from Israeli families and are joining the IDF.

“I don’t want to do an office job; I can do that here,” Natalie Rubinstein, 18, of West Hills, who wants to be an artillery instructor in the IDF, told the Journal in a restaurant at LAX before the departure of a red-eye flight to New York. “I want to do physical stuff.” 

She was joined by Tamir Marom, 18, and Lidor Asulin, 18, both from Woodland Hills. The three met through their membership in Tzofim, an organization offering programs that develop and maintain the connection between Tzofim (Israeli Scouts) in Israel and Jews in North America. After completing their preparation for the IDF through Tzofim’s Garin Tzabar program, the youth are enlisted into an IDF unit, becoming “lone soldiers” — members of the IDF who are living in Israel without the support of immediate family members. More than  6,300 lone soldiers are currently serving in the IDF, according to lonesoldiercenter.com, an organization that offers social and practical support to lone soldiers and their families.

“I don’t think we’re really alone, to be honest,” said Asulin, who is joining the IDF after deciding he wasn’t yet ready for college. “Eventually we all become family, one way or another.”

That’s the hope of NBN. Tani Kramer, the organization’s associate manager of public relations and communications, was among those staffing the flight. Originally from Sacramento, Kramer made aliyah to Israel with his family after he completed ninth grade. The family had been living in Israel for two years at the time, for what they believed would be a temporary stay. His father, a professor from the University of California, Davis, was ready to take the family back to California, but Kramer wasn’t interested. When he told his parents he’d found a family friend who would take him in, Kramer’s father decided the entire family would stay.

In an interview with the Journal on board the El Al airplane, Kramer spoke about what he called his “Nefesh moment,” which he had several years ago, after having joined the organization. Kramer interacted with a young adult who’d been contemplating aliyah but who had decided he wasn’t ready. Later, he ran into this man’s father. The man hugged Kramer, told him his son had made aliyah and that he was thankful to Kramer for facilitating the son’s decision.

Shortly before the plane landed in Tel Aviv, Kramer was wrapping tefillin with many of the observant olim. Meanwhile, the less observant were mingling. The excitement was palpable as the airplane neared its destination. Soon the flight attendants told everyone to be seated, and as the airplane descended into Israel, people on board broke out singing “Am Yisrael Chai.”

The plane was filled with a variety of passengers, and families with small children constituted a considerable number of those on board. Among them were the Eisens, a family of six from Los Angeles with plans to settle in a home they’ve purchased in Beit Shemesh.

“We’re excited,” said Ethan Eisen, a father of four who with his family most recently lived in the Pico-Robertson area, “[though] it was a little tough saying goodbye to some friends.” 

The youngest person on the flight was 3 1/2 weeks old. The oldest was 85. 

Israeli President Reuven Rivlin and NBN co-founders Rabbi Yehoshua Fass and Tony Gelbart were among those who addressed the olim during a welcoming ceremony in an airplane hangar at Ben Gurion airport. 

“You are no longer Jews in exile,” Rivlin said, speaking to a crowd of hundreds, including current Israeli soldiers who came to greet the olim. “You are Israelis.”

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‘Inside’ Jessi Klein: From lingerie to baby drool

In Jessi Klein’s eyes, there are two kinds of women: Those who are poodles and those who are wolves.

The poodles are delicate, hyper-feminine women who always wear matching bras and underwear and lose their virginity in high school. Then there are the wolves. They’re funny, sweat a lot, own two bras total, and don’t have sex until at least their junior year of college. 

Klein is a member of the latter group, and in her new book, “You’ll Grow Out of It,” the comedian and head writer and executive producer of “Inside Amy Schumer” talks all about her wolf status, motherhood and going from what she calls a tomboy to a “tom man.” 

In the book, released in July, Klein reveals her vulnerability, especially in situations where she was confronted with the idea of womanhood. She writes about trying on more than 100 wedding dresses before getting married and pumping breast milk at the Emmys after winning an award for “Inside Amy Schumer.”

Though she’s written for many other shows, “Inside Amy Schumer” is where Klein can get personal and incorporate her real-life experiences, she told the Journal. In one sketch that aired this past May, Schumer goes shopping for a black T-shirt in a size 12. The thin sales associate shows her doll-size tops and then takes her out to a pasture with Lena Dunham and a cow, two of the other shoppers. 

The sketch, which pokes fun at body shaming in retail stores, is similar to the time Klein went into an upscale French lingerie store and ended up crying because nothing fit, an episode that is related in her book. 

“All of the writers [go personal],” she told the Journal. “The voice of the show is very intimate, and our process involves the writers embarrassingly kicking around the more awkward details of their lives.”

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Saul Halpert, 93, longtime TV journalist

Back in the day, broadcast journalists came in three varieties. Walter Cronkite embodied the “voice of God” approach to delivering the news. George Putnam was more of a “personality” than a journalist, and his booming voice and blow-dried coiffure was caricatured in the character of Ted Baxter on “The Mary Tyler Moore Show.” And the younger generation of up-and-coming TV correspondents included razor-cut and matinee-handsome young men like Tom Brokaw and Dan Rather.

And then there was Saul Halpert.

Halpert died last week at the age of 93. Southern California television viewers of a certain age will remember him as a hard-edged and hard-driving news hawk, sharp-eyed if also short in stature, a man who disdained the happy talk that prevailed in broadcast journalism and preferred to go after the story. Yet he was also kind and tolerant, approachable and forthcoming, a real mensch, which explains the outpouring of grief that attended his Aug. 16 passing.

Halpert was a journeyman reporter without pride or pretension, and he went where the assignment desk sent him. “Back on Dec. 14, 1963, at KNXT, I assigned Saul to cover the arrest of the [Frank] Sinatra Jr. kidnappers at an FBI news conference,” recalled his boss at the time, Pete Noyes. “Right in the middle of the news conference, I paged Saul and told him to take his crew and head to the Baldwin Hills Dam, which might burst at any minute. Saul cursed me out but followed orders. He, cameraman Doug Dare and soundman Pierre Adidge were standing on the dam when it broke and barely escaped death. Eventually, they were rescued by a sheriff’s helicopter. You’ve probably seen their film of the dam collapse at one time or another. It’s an L.A. classic — and so was Halpert.”

Halpert was born in Albany, N.Y., in 1922. The family moved to Southern California when he was 16, and he attended Belmont High School in Los Angeles. He served as a second lieutenant in the Army during World War II, and he returned to L.A. after the war to earn a B.A. at USC and a master’s degree at UCLA. Later in life, he taught journalism at both schools.

“Hard-boiled” is an adjective that is stereotypically used to describe private eyes, but it also applies to Halpert’s style of journalism. “Just the facts, ma’am,” is what radio and TV detective Joe Friday used to say, and that’s how I remember Halpert’s delivery of the news. His reporting was always rooted not in talking points but in hard facts, whether he was covering the mind-boggling outbreak of Beatlemania or the breaking news of a dam collapse.

As it happens, I knew Saul Halpert when I was a young magazine and newspaper journalist in the 1970s, and he invited me now and then to join the guest panels on “Channel 4 News Conference,” the long-running show that he hosted on Sundays on the local NBC affiliate. Halpert worked at all three network affiliates over his long career, and everyone who was privileged to know him will agree that he embodied the qualities that his fellow broadcast journalists always praised, even when they did not actually practice them. 

My most precious memory of Saul Halpert, however — and one that I have reflected upon many times over the years — is a long, chatty lunch at which Saul and his wife, Ruth, began to reminisce about the death of their adult son, Robert. “He had such beautiful legs,” Ruth recalled, and they both fell silent for a moment. And it was at that moment that I glimpsed the depth of emotion that was the wellspring of the compassion that he brought to his 40-year career in journalism. That unguarded and heartfelt disclosure brought tears to my eyes then, and so does Saul’s passing so many years later.

The family of Saul Halpert has announced that memorial contributions can be made to the Ruth L. Halpert Memorial Scholarship Endowment in the name of Saul E. Halpert, CSUN Foundation, 1811 Nordhoff Street, Northridge, 91330-8321. Inquiries should be directed to (818) 677-6057 or development@csun.edu.

JONATHAN KIRSCH is the book editor of the Jewish Journal.

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