Tel Aviv to open new beach – In Vienna
At first glance in what can be interpreted as an odd PR move, the Israeli Embassy in Vienna will open a “beach” in the center of the city along the banks of the Danube River. Yes, a beach. In Vienna. Initially the idea sounds kind of stupid but it goes further than just setting up a gimmick-y beach in the center of a large European city. The unique yet temporary structure will have a huge screen (streaming video of the ocean perhaps?) on one side and on the other side beach chairs which will help integrate the feeling of “chilling out” at the beach. But wait, there’s more! The structure will host film nights and other cultural activities such as concerts. There will also be “quiet” nights where yoga workshops will be held as recordings of the surf breaking in the backgrounds plays.
Initiatives such as this are becoming more and more popular in promoting Israel abroad. Israeli is certainly becoming more and more proactive in promoting Israel as a cultural capital rather than being in a consistent position of constant defense of criticism. A good play for sure, but it will be interesting to see how these initiatives play out in the increasingly anti-Israel environs in Europe.
The lot of parking
Filed under: General, Immigrant Moments, Israeliness
Sometimes I feel that I’ve been living in Israel for so long that I’ve lost sight of what similar experiences are like in the U.S., my native land. Take paid parking lots and garages, for example. Does one generally enter into a personal conversation with the parking garage attendant in the U.S., or is that an Israeli cultural phenomenon?
In my quest to find parking in the Tel Aviv neighborhood of Florentin today, at the very busy hour of 12 pm, my friend Andrew directed me toward a public parking lot on Yehuda Halevy. “If it’s full,” which it was, “wait for a couple of cars to come out and then try to get in.” So even thought the sign said “The parking lot is full”, I persevered and reentered the lot, waiting behind another car.
When I pulled up to the attendant’s window, she — yes, she, an unusual sight in a lot — said, “What, the fact that the full sign is out there didn’t mean anything to you?” Somewhat taken aback by her opening salvo, I stuttered and said, “Well, yeah, I saw it, but then I saw three other cars come out.” At that, she closed the window, kept the gate down and ignored me. And then the cars behind me began beeping. When the driver behind me got out of his car to demand an explanation, she said to him, “What, you can’t see I’m talking to someone?” That someone was a driver on the other side, attempting to exit the lot.
So I waited patiently, or so I thought, for at least four minutes (!), and then politely knocked on her window, pointing out that several cars had now exited the lot and I would probably find a spot. “You’re not very patient, are you?” said she. “Me?” I said. “I’ve been waiting patiently for the last five minutes. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
“Nah,” she said. “You’re all the same. And you’d better start learning some patience before that baby comes out,” pointing to my pregnant belly.
With that, she gave me my receipt, and I pulled into the nearest spot.
Rockin’ Redband
Filed under: General, Israeliness, Music, Pop Culture
One of the delights of Israeli culture is the mash up that occurs when English-speaking immigrants have kids and raise them as Israelis. A friend once said that these Sabra children often wind up with the best of both worlds – the confidence and improvisational skills of Israelis, and the manners and sensibilities of their Anglo heritage. Of course, sometimes they get the worst of both worlds, and sometimes… well, there’s Redband.
The latest hit summer TV series on HOT VOD (sort of like a low-rent HBO), Redband is an R-rated comedic car crash ‘mockumentary’ featuring life-sized puppets portraying the most thick-brained rock stars this side of Spinal Tap. The puppets, the creation of three children of Anglo immigrants, switch with ease from English to Hebrew, and prove they can talk filthily in either language with equal aplomb.
The show’s offensive like South Park, and just as hilarious, especially when band leader Red Orbach skewers the guest of each episode, an in-the-flesh Israeli pop star like Aviv Gefen, Shalom Hanoch and Mosh Ben-Ari.
Ari Feffer, Micha Duman and Ami Wiesel are the Israeli Americans behind the puppets. They all grew up with a love of 60s music and hippie culture thanks to their American parents, and despite having gone through the army and attended film school at Tel Aviv University, they still feel more comfortable within the milieu of American culture and slang. And Redband shows that they learned exactly what to make fun of from the excesses of the rock & roll lifestyle which Red and his band mates Poncho and Lefty emerged from.
It’s fun to watch an Israeli TV show that’s almost all in English, but with hip Tel Aviv slang and inside Israeli jokes thrown in at will. Redband blurs the lines even further between Israeli and American culture, and in doing so, are making people on both sides laugh until it hurts.
Nostalgia Sunday
Filed under: Art, General, History and Culture, Israeliness, Life, Music, Pop Culture, Profiles
Israeli band Ha-Click never gained a great following among the young Americans in Israel during the early 80s. Certainly, if you were into peace, love, understanding, Arik Einstein, David Broza, Yehudit Ravitz, Matti Caspi and any number of other Israeli soft rockers, something like Ha-Click (known in English as The Clique), fronted by a black-lipsticked, spiky-haired Dani Dothan, was not going to hold any appeal.
On one hand, if you were into Punk and New Wave, Ha-Click and the Tel Aviv underground scene (clubs like Ha-Penguin on Allenby and Ha-Madregot on Dizengoff), were pretty tame compared to what was going on in New York and London at the time. On the other hand, these were people clawing at an entrenched culture establishment dominated by government-funded institutions, and creating an alternative art and music scene where none existed on a sleepy street of upholstery shops in central Tel Aviv. If it weren’t for Dothan, his brother Uri and a handful of other pioneers, there wouldn’t be Sheinkin Street today.
Inspired by New York’s SoHo district, the brothers Dothan moved into a dumpy apartment and set up an art gallery-cafe downstairs called Sheink-in. My friend Yael was one of the many young lovelies who served Nescafe and “botz” coffee there for a week or two. She can’t remember if she got paid or not, but money was not the point. The point was to be there. Other young artists were moving in all around the neighborhood; a small theater opened up, a plastics shop/gallery, an anarchist bookstore, a used record store; and on Purim the street was closed to traffic and the Adloyada parade – a Tel Aviv tradition from the 30s to the 60s – was revived by performance artists.
As Sheinkin gained in popularity, changes began to take place: Sheink-in closed down and Dothan opened up Tat-Rama, a high-level art gallery that also published a very large format, glossy magazine. Cafe Tamar – which still sells instant coffee and greasy cheesetoast under the watchful eye of proprietress and living legend Sarah Stern – became the hottest place in town to see and be seen. Sculptor Israel Hadany was commissioned to create a sculpture-fountain in the park at the lower end of the street. Tat-Rama closed down and a fast food delivery company moved in. The bookstore shut down and Cafe Cazze opened up, bringing in good coffee – finally! The Hadany fountain was paved over and replaced by a kiddie park. Hanging out at Cafe Tamar became cliche after Bananarama wannabees Mango sang a song about it. The Tel Aviv municipality gave the neighborhood a name – “Lev Tel Aviv”, the heart of Tel Aviv – and real estate prices inveitably started to rise.
I interviewed Dani Dothan about 15 years ago after he published a novel (a very good one, actually) about Jerusalem bohemians of the 1920s. He was resigned to the fact that Sheinkin had become, in his words, “a street of boutiques and restaurants”. It wasn’t exactly his vision, but he was certainly aware that it was due in part to his efforts. (He also explained to me that the difference between a “Sheinkiner” and a “Sheinkinist” was that of between buying and renting). He’s a very busy man and continues to stay on the cutting edge of Israeli popular culture: he wrote singer Dana International’s song “Diva“, which won the 1998 Eurovision, he directed Milkshake, a controversial cable talk show starring the irrepressible Zofit Grant (Mrs. Avraham Grant, as she’s known to UK football fans), and co-directed documentaries “The Ashkenazim“, and “The Blue Lamb“.
The Clique only reunited twice, in 1988 and 2004. Drummer Jean Jacques Goldberg passed away in 2006, so there’s not likely to be any more and in any case, reunion tours are pathetic, (sorry Johnny, but it’s true). A clip does occasionally show up on TV and that’s nice to watch, like this one of their big hit “Incubator” – and please note the prescient use of plastic sheeting, a decade before the first Gulf War made it part of our national consciouness.
Snipped from Top Secret Truth
By now, we all know the premise behind Adam Sandler’s newest comedy, You Don’t Mess with the Zohan, which has been breaking Israeli grossing records and has already exceeded Borat’s box office run from two summers ago. Protagonist Zohan Dvir’s madcap journey from super-spy to super-sensitive Brooklyn hairdresser sure seems like an unlikely career arc to the uninitiated – pure comedic gold.
Sandler, who hails from Brooklyn, New York, said the inspiration for Zohan dates back to his childhood when he heard stories about how tough the Israeli army was, even though the country was small.“Anytime anyone comes after them, they take care of business,” Sandler told reporters at a recent news conference, “As a Jewish kid, you were proud of that. So I admired them.”
“….An Israeli guy used to cut my hair, and I just thought it’d be funny to see an Israeli soldier, a bad-ass fearless warrior who had a little secret dream of wanting to do something else, but was embarrassed to share it with anyone,” Sandler said.
But the truth is, Israelis constitute some of the most notoriously resourceful and disproportionately plentiful communities of expatriates in the world, as CNN ever-so-diplomatically points out.
Like Zohan, many young Israelis escape the country, at least temporarily, after completing their military service to go on lengthy backpacking trips through Asia or South America or to work in odd jobs in American cities.And in New York, for instance, young Israelis are commonly seen working as furniture movers or aggressively selling useless knickknacks.
….Oddly enough, the concept for the Zohan movie evolved from a spoof of just such Israelis. Comedian-writer Robert Smigel came up with a Saturday Night Live sketch in 1990 called the “Sabra Shopping Network,” the first SNL skit Sandler appeared in.
“….I think it is almost a gesture toward Israel,” said Ido Mosseri, who plays Zohan’s pushy expat Israeli sidekick Oori. “I was a little worried because Israeli crowds are very critical, but I think they took it all in with love.”
And anyway, the schism between the imposingly macho commando persona and the coiffuring, service-oriented one is not as glaring in Israel as it might be in North America. In the US, the stereotypical male hairstylist is effeminate, while in Israel, that’s not necessarily the case.
There’s no surprise that men flock to the profession. The career of a hairstylist is for guys with big egos, for social animals, for ambitious types with a head for business. “….The dream of every Israeli hairstylist who’s just starting out is to go New York and make it big,” says student Rahel Aharonov, 21, drinking coffee by herself.
Sometimes what seems like the most ludicrously improbable scenarios in the minds of Hollywood creatives ends up ringing with a whole lot more true than they might have ever dreamed. Sure, Israelis might not brush their teeth with hummus, but as a premise, Zohan proves to be not much of a stretch.
Nostalgia Sunday
I’ve been thinking a lot about The Blaumilch Canal lately. Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s summer ennui, or maybe it’s simply because they showed this classic Israeli film on cable a few weeks ago. I dunno, everything lately seems a bit Blaumilchy and it keeps flashing through my mind.
In the movie, written and directed by the late and very great Ephraim Kishon, a escapee from a lunatic asylum bcomes enamored of a jackhammer and, one bright day, starts digging up Allenby Street. By mid-morning, there’s a big pile of dirt jamming traffic and bothering the neighbors whose complaints spur the municipality into misguided, malicious action. Unwilling to admit they know nothing about the project, two warring city offiicals begin assisting the unplanned project in an ever-escalating show of one-upsmanship, sending in more workers, earth movers and police guards.
Meanwhile, the crazy man with the jackhammer continues steadily onwards toward the beach. When he finally reaches the Mediterranean, the floodgates open, water rushes up Allenby and Tel Aviv is declared “The Venice of the Middle East” at a grand ceremony presided over by a myopic mayor and his self-serving flunkies – who of course take all credit for having planned, overseen and executed the thing. Little do they know that in the meantime, jackhammering has commenced over at Kikar Malchei Yisrael (today’s Rabin Square).
Wikipedia has a nice summary of the movie. It’s also fun to watch because of the mod fashion, groovy soundtrack and arty editing. Check out the opening scenes on YouTube (or watch the full version):
Of course, like all works of satire, Blaumilch is intended as a parable, in this case about bureaucracy and politics. The frightening part is that, even though the movie is almost 40 years old, it still rings true today. And not just in Israel. The film’s international title was “The Big Dig”. As I’m from Boston – home of the 20 year long project of the same name which was supposed to take half that time – I can only shake my head in amazement.
Sheffield Sends Coexistence
As previously discussed on these pages, the summer of 2008 is shaping up as a respectable time for Israelis to see international rock shows. Acts like Dinosaur Jr. and Cypress Hill have already wowed us. Bjork and Leonard Cohen might have canceled their planned Israel concerts, but The Breeders, Macy Gray, Low, Air and even Snoop are reportedly on their way.
While many A-list names are certainly being increasingly associated with concerts here, the biggest trend seems to be for nostalgia acts – classic rock brand names that play small auditoriums and rock clubs in Europe or the US but come here and succeed in selling out amphitheaters full of Baby Boomer sabras. Hence Ra’anana gigs last week from Air Supply as well as Blondie. Deep Purple and Blood, Sweat and Tears have also recently announced that they’re headed this way in the coming weeks.
And now wall-of-white-man’s-soul pioneer Joe Cocker has entered the ring as well. The Woodstock-bred performer has just two non-North American shows booked for this summer: an environmentalism-themed festival in Germany and a coexistence-themed festival in Gilboa, set to take place on August 26 through 28.
The appropriately titled Gilboa Coexistence Festival’s program consists mostly of outdoor nature activities, seminars and Jewish and Muslim folk music performances. A Bible-Koran quiz and the two-day “Gilboa Women’s Jeep Challenge” are also on the program. According to The Jerusalem Post,
“This will be one of the biggest events ever put on in Israel promoting coexistence,” says Daniel Atar, head of the Gilboa Regional Council, “In the Gilboa, coexistence is our reality and proves that a way of life of brotherhood and equality forms a solid foundation for cooperation, understanding and mutual recognition that we believe can be established in all of Israel and beyond.”
Cocker’s last performance in Israel, at Jerusalem’s Sultan’s Pool in the fall of 1994, was certainly fun. Even if we’re talking about someone who hasn’t broken new ground since the early Seventies, how can one not enjoy mildly enthusiastic (alright – somewhat spastic in the Belushi tradition), real-time renditions of classics like “Summer in the City” and “With a Little Help from My Friends”?
The hills are alive
Filed under: General, Immigrant Moments, Israeliness, Music
Living in Jerusalem, and with more than my fair share of family and friends who are amateur actors, it’s not surprising that I would end up attending a generous smattering of local English language community theater. I’ve smiled through JEST performances of You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown and Prairie Lights; considered Mercaz Hamagshimim Center Stage versions of The Vagina Monologues and Tick Tick Boom!; appreciated local Gilbert and Sullivan productions and clapped for the Hebrew University players and their annual shows.
It’s never Broadway, but then again, even Broadway doesn’t always satisfy. And there’s something to be said for seeing your loved ones on stage, singing their hearts out, acting their lines, performing for the community at large.
But last night, I was truly astounded by a great production of The Sound of Music, produced by Yisra’el Lutnick and directed by Kim Glassman (who, in the small world that is Jerusalem, is the sister of a former camper of mine). It’s hard not to love any version of this old favorite, particularly when you can sing along to every song (“She climbs a tree and scrapes her knee,”) and even know most of the dialogue by heart. Yet this was an example of appropriate staging, fine choreography, good, strong voices and simple but significant sets that helped ’set’ the stage for Austria, circa 1938, and all by a semi-professional cast and crew, performed at the Jerusalem Theater.
And while the play was written by Americans, set in Austria and performed by American, Canadian, Israeli, British and South African actors, the final test was in the typically Israeli applause, which is in a uniform beat, rather than the more individual clapping that you come across in the States or Europe. When you hear that kind of applause, it’s the sign of an Israeli audience expressing their appreciation for what they’ve just seen and heard. Kudos.
Nostalgia Sunday
Filed under: Art, General, History and Culture, Israeliness, Life, Profiles
My mother’s uncle, Zvi Zinkin, was a painter. Not a famous one, except in our family lore. Dod Zvi and Doda Batya, as we knew them, were among the many eccentrics that called Tel Aviv home and made it a city like no other. They were elderly, agoraphobic, hard-of-hearing vegetarians when we met them in the 1970s, making their own watery beet juice and salt-free noodles (this was before veggie food was popular or palatable), composing poetry and melodies for Batya to dance, Isadora Duncan-style, around a living room embellished with wall murals of Zvi shaking hands with Moses, Herzl and Jabotinsky in the heavenly Jerusalem. Zvi’s true loves – Batya and the Land of Israel – were expressed through his paintings, some of which were handed down to my sisters and me.
One of Zvi’s recurring themes was the Yarkon River, usually depicting himself and Batya in a rowboat, or sometimes with just a solitary rower. He was also fascinated by the Reading Power Station. In these paintings, Reading’s distinguishing characteristic, the smokestack, has apparently not yet been erected.
Both Batya and my mother died aroud the same time, in 1975, and Zvi passed away a few years later. (I imagine the apartment went to people who scraped and plastered over the wall murals – I’ve never had the guts to go and check). My father, sisters and I managed to visit him only once, in 1976 – and it wasn’t easy to arrange. Zvi didn’t have a phone or couldn’t hear the phone – I was never clear on the details – so you had to send a postcard telling him about your plans to visit. Also, our relatives warned us that he’d become even more peculiar since Batya’s death. “He made a life-sized statue out of her old clothes and paper mache, and he talks to it,” they told my dad chillingly. “The girls will be frightened.” Actually, it was both Batya and Theodore Herzl, sitting opposite one another at the folding table, with a tape recorder of Batya playing the piano and singing. Somehow, though, it wasn’t really scary. It just was what it was: art and life, one and the same.
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