An Otherworldly Gathering
On a warm early summer afternoon in Meron, a hilltop village in the Galilee in northern Israel, the sun dangles like a big white bulb.
On a warm early summer afternoon in Meron, a hilltop village in the Galilee in northern Israel, the sun dangles like a big white bulb.
The Yiddishkayt Los Angeles Festival zings along as recording artist and VBS Children\’s Music Director Cindy Paley presents songs and stories from her latest recording \”Zing Along.\”
A 1998 article about Chicago collector Stephen Durschslag\’s haggadah collection set the number of different haggadot on his shelves at 4,500, increasing almost daily.
Don\’t let the unfunny introduction to \”Haikus for Jews\” (Harmony Books, $11) fool you.
Lisa Schiffman\’s book, \”Generation J\” (Harper San Francisco) is a personal memoir, a travelogue of her adventures exploring Judaism.
At first glance, the author Susanna Kaysen and the actress Winona Ryder have little in common. Kaysen, who is in her 50s and the author of several well-received volumes, grew up upper-middle-class and Jewish in Cambridge, MA and is the daughter of an economics professor. And Ryder, the movie star, spent many of her formative years in a Northern California commune, the daughter of a Jewish hippie intellectual who often chatted around the kitchen table with poet Allen Ginsberg and LSD guru Timothy Leary.
About six months ago, The Journal published a ballot asking readers to pick their LA Jewish favorites: delis, party places, bookshops, etc.
Here\’s the scene I most remember when I think about moving here from San Francisco: I\’m in my $385-a-month apartment, which is furnished only with a monolithic file cabinet I rescued from my uncle\’s garage and a day bed suited for a small child.
While cities such as Detroit and St. Louis were holding major Jewish book festivals year after year, drawing celebrity authors such as Saul Bellow and Philip Roth, observers here asked, Why isn\’t there a Jewish book festival in Los Angeles?
The Jewish holiday of Shavuot, on May 21, is about the last time of year you would want to talk to Beth Ginsberg or her boss, Michael Milken.