Jerusalem via Los Angeles
Filed under: Israeliness, Music, Pop Culture, Travel
Even though I recently spent three weeks in Los Angeles on an arts journalism fellowship, I couldn’t escape Israel, which followed me like a neon sign on my back.
* On my very first day, walking out of my Hollywood hotel toward the closest pharmacy to pick up some sundry items, I walked past the fabled Kodak Theater near the corner of Hollywood and Highland.Starry eyed and smiling, I peered at the glass-covered poster advertising the upcoming attraction, expecting to find the Grammy/MTV/VMA/Peoples’ Choice or some kind of awards. But guess who the next performer was? Our own Shlomo Artzi.
* This being an arts fellowship, we were hobnobbing with, well, artistic types… theater directors, choreographers, architects, musicians, etc. So, when I introduced myself – next my colleagues from the NY Times, The World, Studio 360 and the like -as being from Israel, I didn’t get the stock response about terror and ‘is it safe there’ and the conflict.
* On our personalized tour of the Los Angeles County Museum (LACMA) led by their chief curator, I noticed an eavesdropper hovering in the background, listening in. He seemed like a normal-looking fellow, probably interested in learning more about the art. When the director of LACMA came out to greet us, we did the introduction thing, and I identified my position and home country of Israel.
A few minutes later, the stranger sidled up to me, and in Hebrew whispers, “You’re Israeli? Me too. My name’s David, I’m a painter,” he said, handing me his business card. “If you have any time, call me and we’ll have lunch.” Well, alright, Dave.
* US election day was one of our day’s off. So I sauntered off with a colleague from the BBC to the nearest polling station to write a color story for my paper. Walking up to random voters in line, I identified myself as an Israeli journalist and asked them questions about their feelings and emotions on election day.One after another, without prompting, voiced their support for Barack Obama and the change he represented. After all, this was Hollywood.
Undaunted, I kept on searching for a McCain supporter to provide some balance. I finally found the golden ticket when I reached a middle-aged, goateed man who responded to my introduction with a hearty “Ma Nishma” ( how you doin’?). And naturally, I had found a staunch McCain man.
* At a fellowship buffet dinner with some top Angelenos in the artistic community and in city planning, we were hob nobbing and discussing our day’s visit to see the artistic projects being undertaken in Skid Row, the downtown LA area that thousands of homeless call home.
Dan, a top city official, was explaining how certain parts of the downtown area were being regentrified, and more affluent professionals were moving in. On his street, he said, was a truly international bunch who delved into all kinds of creative projects. There were graphic designers, Croatian choreographers, a couple of Chilean sculptors living next door, an Indian chef across the way, and at the end of the street lived a couple who used their house to shoot and produce adult films.
“They’re our neighborhood pornographers,” he said. “As a matter of fact,” he added, looking my way, “I think they’re Israeli.”















