Fresh Paint

The first weekend of April, Tel Aviv hosted an annual art exhibition that draws professionals from the Guggenheim and other internationally recognized places of fine art.  It's called Fresh Paint.  Dan and I walked around it for about an hour and a half after dinner Thursday night.  Entrance was about $8pp.  It was well worth it.

This photo is from my personal favorite -
EDITH KOLLATH - NOTHING WILL EVER BE THE SAME
Project Initiator and Curator - Keren Bar-Gil


It was a really simple concept.  A chiffon square of white fabric, hung at the four corners by strong on pulleys.  It would lift, then fall, in an infinite number of new forms.  Never the same. 

Next to it was my other favorite, which I can not properly show you here.  It was a shelf of old books on their sides.  But if you paid attention, you'd notice that they were breathing.  Cleverly wired from the inside, the cover and pages would lift slowly, then drop again.  A wisper of a soundtrack made me feel like I was in a Harry Potter movie watching living, breathing books. 

The exhibit also had a wall of postcard surprises, where you had to buy the postcard to find out who the artist was.  It could be a well-known, established artist, or a newcomer.  But you had to commit to what you liked before you could find out.  Quite clever, but the $50/card price was a bit steep, so we didn't get to "discover" anyone. 

We're looking forward to attending next year's exhibit though!

So this is where you came from, Great Grandma...

Catching up a bit on observations that I drafted but did not complete. 

Stop two on our holiday during Passover was Finland.  I have been there once before, but only for a few hours, and north of the arctic circle.  In 2007 my mom and I visited relatives on the Swedish side in the north, in a tiny town of 600.  This visit is in Helsinki, the largest and southern most city.

We used the evening of our arrival to gain our bearings walking around town.  We passed through the Central Train Station, the Nordic Macy's (Stockman's), the Senate Square, along the harbor, and up a beautiful double-lane boulevard park.  The Finn's are clearly itching from cabin fever, as they were out in force, covering every park bench and seated at outdoor cafes, despite the need for heaters and snowman coats.  There are, afterall, remnants of the snowplow piles in every parking lot.  On our walk back to our hotel, Dan said, "What is everyone looking at?"  Across the street, on the top floor ledge of a six story building were three large birds.  My first instinct was that they were some kind of hawk, but after watching a moment, it became clear these were owls.  But they were more than twice the size of any owl I've seen.  They were light brown in color.  Two sat at the ledge and one slightly behind, possibly a spring baby, as it appeared to be smaller.  We watched them for at least ten minutes, and we were joined by nearly every passerby, so this didn't appear to be a common occurance.

The next day we took a 10 minute ferry to Suomenlinna Island and spent several hours wandering around this old fortress of five smaller islands connected by bridges.  It is actually this fortress, built to protect trade routes from Russia to the west, that caused Helsinki to develop into a major city. 

The architecture all throughout town has a very European feel.  Many of the large old stone buildings remind me of Paris, or Prague.  Although prices have dramatically increased in Prague, and Paris was never particularly cheap, Helsinki and all of Scandinavia are especially expensive.  Our basic fish lunch without drinks cost nearly $50 USD.  Here, as in Estonia, everyone speaks perfect English (albeit with a Nordic accent).  People are friendly enough. 

We used our other full day to escape the city with a rental car, driving along the southern coast.  We made it as far as Hanko, a southwest town on a Peninsula, which in addition to having been a trade port, a military outpost, and a summer holiday spot, was the port of departure for Finn's who emigrated to the U.S. around 100 years ago.  It is quite possible that my great grandmother left from here, before coming through Canada to Colorado, and then on to southern Washington State.  It is hard to imagine what she must have felt, leaving then, forever.  I don't think she ever had the opportunity or means to return.

Sirens

My first day back to Ulpan after the Passover holiday was Monday, May 2nd.  At 10am everyone stopped for 2 minutes. I was told that even people in cars would stop on the freeway, get out, and observe these 2 minutes. In Ulpan, the break times were adjusted to bring all classes together in their gathering hall for a ceremony. The room was packed, more than during previous holiday observances. A siren started, and we all stood up (it could not have lasted for more than a minute, and afterwards I could hear the sirens outside for a moment). There was a candle lighting ceremony by students representing various countries. This was followed by the resident singer guitar player and half an hour of songs.


Then we went back to class. Dad (he's visiting right now) told me he went out on our balcony when the sirens sounded and saw everyone get out of their vehicles on the roads below. He also noticed walkers stop and others inside buildings come to their windows.  This however, also lasted for under a minute.

Next week a similar event will occur at 11am on Memorial Day for soldiers. After these two somber days will come Independence Day which I am told is a big celebration here.

Stay tuned for more...

Estonia, where is that again?

It's Pesach (Passover) holiday in Israel.  While some are observant, this is still high season for family vacations.  Ben Gurion airport was packed to the gills with outbound travelers when we left.  After a four hour flight to Munich, we flew two more hours.  Then we landed in Estonia.

Would you be able to point out Estonia on a map?  I knew it was in northeastern Europe near Russia, at least.  But I couldn't have told you the name of the capital (any guesses?)  It's Tallinn.  The whole country is only 1.4 million people.  And they've had it rough.  They spent most of the 1900's under occupation never mind the last 800 years) and only got their independence in 1991 from Russia.  The Russians were here most of the time, but the Nazi's took a run at the place from 1941-1944. 

They have a beautiful old city with a mixture of Russian, German, Swedish and Estonian influenced architecture.  They have some of the oldest medieval structures in the world.  We took a 2 hour walking tour of the city today, seeing most of it, and hearing stories from the perspective of a college student who was clearly influenced by the history of her homeland, providing a humorous, ironic, athiest and skeptical take on the authorities who have ruled her country, under occupation as well as as a free state. 

We passed by the old KGB headquarters, where the street level windows had been filled in with bricks to block the screams of those being tortured inside.  The building is now empty, and they have plans to renovate it into apartments, which are controvercial, with opinions depending on how you feel about the process of moving on from the autrocities of history. 

Dinner was at the Olde Hansa, a restaurant in the old town that has researched and replicated medieval dining.  They pour water from a pitcher to wash your hands when you come in, light by candles at the tables, and theoretically serve food in period style.   Huge rich portions meant our simple soup and two dinners were a two hour excursion, requiring a few more hours of walking and digestion afterwards.  We were seated on the third floor, where a group of 35 local middle-aged Estonians came in for a "feast" about the same time we did.  Within 15 minutes they had broken out in song.  You're probably reading this and thinking what a nightmare.  But as it turns out, Estonian's are known for their singing.  They say they "sang" their way to revolution and freedom.  These guys were in perfect harmony.  And if that wasn't enough, a stag party of six men (on the older side) sat at the table next to us, in full pirate costumes.  It was an entertaining meal. 

Our second day in Tallinn we wandered an old neighborhood of stately wooden homes that ended up in a state of disrepair during the years of occupation, but interest and investment is starting to return it to the upperclass neighborhood that it once was.  It is near a large park which is across from the Palace build by the Russian Tsars  (for the Russian Tsars) as well as the current President's home.  They also recently built a beautiful modern art museum which we wandered in for about an hour. 

For lunch we headed back across town north of the old city, to a little place called Cafe Moon, where we satiated our empty tummies with outstanding fish soup and borshe soup.  Then we shared a salmon pie which was equally delicious.  We didn't think another meal could top lunch, but dinner of venison medallions and butter-seared halibut did.  All in all, Tallinn exceeded my expectations.  That's partly due to not really having any, but I would recommend it if you ever up in north eastern Europe.  Just don't go any earlier than April.  It still required my snowman coat. 

Another unusual day at Ulpan

Last Wednesday, April 6, Ulpan Gordon held a "mini" Passover Seder all morning.  I say mini, not because it was small (see picture at right) because all the classes were there, easily 200+ students and teachers.  It was also not shortened.  It still took at least an hour and a half of songs and readings before we ate.  It was "mini," because it only included the boiled egg, boiled potato, matza cracker and gifilta fish ball. 

I'd like to say it was interesting, but it was hard to follow.  We read the Passover story in class before hand, so I understand the holiday is about the Jew's exodus from Egypt, which included avoiding eight plagues.  I understand that the appetizers each represent something as well, and the readings and songs correspond to these.  But I couldn't really follow it. 

Still, I stuck it out until the end. 

Afterwards, upon leaving class and turning the corner onto Ben Yehuda a block north of Ben Gurion, we were haulted by the police.  They had cleared the intersection to check a suspicious "package" (I never saw it, so I don't know what it was).  The bomb squad hooked up some lines to it, went back about 50 feet, and tugged.  Nothing happened, so I guess they were sufficiently comfortable that it was a false alarm.  They packed up and left, and we were able to go on our way too.  

It reminded me of the NYC campaign in the subways - "If you see something, say something."  Obviously, somebody said something.

Throwing Money at the Street - The Economist on Arab Economies

It seems the middle east approach to quelling uprisings is handouts and buy-offs. It is strange to be in a tiny country that is a U.S.-Europe hybrid in the middle of all this. You'd never know it here. Sure, the culture is unique, and the language isn't English, but Israel is like a drop of oil in a bucket of vinegar (or maybe vinegar, in an oil field?). http://www.economist.com/node/18332638

The Moth comes to Tel Aviv

When we were living in Michigan, we discovered a great live storytelling program called The Moth, thanks to NPR coverage.   The concept started in NYC, in someone's living room, where a group of people got together, people put names in a hat, and 10 were drawn to get up and tell an original story under 5 minutes.  You can read about the exact structure of the events on their website.  The concept caught on, expanded to public locations, and then to LA, Chicago and Detroit.  We attended the Detroit events several times.  You had to get to the bar, Cliff Bell's in Detroit, at least 2 hours before the storytelling began, if you wanted in the door.  And it was standing room only once you were in.  If you live in any of these cities, I highly recommend going in person.  If you don't, you can hear selected stories on NPR, or, you can do what the following couple did.

A few months back we met an American couple working here in Tel Aviv.  I was put in touch with them by a fellow Wellesley alum.  He works for Better Place, and she just finished her master's degree at Brandeis, where I began mine, so we have a few things in common.  In March they decided to start StorySlamming in Tel Aviv, by hosting the first one here (at least, the first one we know of, and almost certainly the first one in English (although one of the 10 stories did end up in Hebrew). 

They held it at their apartment, starting on the roof and then coming back to their living room when it got too cold.  (Yes, it can get cold here).  The theme was "danger."  There were about 40 of us there.  And Dan put his name in the hat.  Sure enough, he was picked, and I have to say he represented us very well.  I on the other hand, am not much of a live storyteller.  You'll have to settle for mine in print. 

They plan to throw another StorySlam after Passover.  We'll be there!