I walked into a doctor’s office and was bowled away by the art. Kadishman’s sheep and some other well known paintings and themes impressed me immediately. But then I saw the wall in the waiting room with six pages torn from a German science book and scribbled over and I couldn’t look away. No one else was paying attention, but the subtlety of the illustrations – an ancient discussion of the hip joint and then a kind of primitive self-portrait over it, for example – made me think of how interrelated science and autobiography and art is. So the first thing i asked the doctor when we walked in was who painted it. “Philip Rantzer,” he said. “Ah yes,” I said, “the guy with the bicycle carrying Tel Aviv.” The doctor turns to google the name with bicycle in Hebrew and finds it. I am amazed that an exhibit I saw seven years ago is still fresh in my mind. But that’s Rantzer. Once home I looked up his site here but it doesn’t do him justice. I would bet he’s due for a new exhibit soon – then we’ll see.Here’s Tel Aviv on a Bicycle. Incredibly complex, humorous and tragic, autobiographical and universal.
I couldn’t figure out what crazy instruments Ilya Magnes was playing. He introduced some of them – ‘primitive’ strings and wind instruments – and I was sitting next to him during his performance so i could see he was recording himself and playing himself back. And he was using something called a ‘handsonic’ that worked as complex percussion. But it was hard to follow what he was doing because Orly AlCoshi was doing some incredible moves – a kind of sampling of Indian, Egyptian, Turkish, Flamenco and more to his music. And all this on the roof of a house in Jaffa, while a nearby minaret was emitting the final call for prayer for the day.
Have you ever been in a souffle? That’s what it feels like today. I took 6 wrong turns in Tel Aviv, going to a place I know well. It is so hot (how hot is it?) that I am forgetting everything. I’d better stay home tomorrow.
The labyrinth that is the Knesset remains in my physical memory all day. We began with instructions from the information desk, ran around from building to building and up and down stairs, finally found the room, were told that the office had moved, went back to information, got a new address, and ran around again. This physical situation was only different from the intellectual one only in the fact that we found the room at last. So today I had to find the address for Panic Ensemble’s rehearsal in south tel aviv, an area that had seemed like a maze to me years ago when I had to find defferent rehearsal rooms. After yesterday it was a cinch.
I’m on the radio today, live at five (US time midnight) Click on hereand press the big blue square (It says radio in Hebrew). the program goes on and on so never mind if you’re late. I will be on my way back from the Knesset in a car reading poems and answering questions.
Lucky you didn’t listen. There was some interference with the live program – so now you can listen to the podcast at http://www.icast.co.il/default.aspx?p=Podcast&id=329343&all=1 I can’t seem to get a direct link so you’ll have to cut and paste. And respond.
I went with Daniel Galay, the chair of the Israel Association of Writers in Yiddish, to ask Knesset Member, Lia Shemtov, to help the Yiddish Writers. Since she’s in charge of the Yiddish lobby, it was a logical visit. And she’s a nice lady. But any visit to the Knesset makes me feel like Kafka in Wonderland. There is nothing about that place that makes sense to me. Especially the building. But because it is too unbelievable to relate i will skip it.
The first anniversary of the death of my nephew absorbed my thoughts today. And, although it hs nothing to do with Tel Aviv, I cannot but note it. “Why is MY father dead, and not someone else’s father?” the youngest daughter asked another child, as we stood among the graves.
Didn’t I promise you restaurant reviews this week? Friday night the wonderful club Zappas became the host to a 70th birthday party of a friend. At his age he wanted to hear music of the fifties and sixties and his friends rejoiced. I forgot to ask who the DJ was but I looked over and was surprised to see he was in his twenties. How did he know?
But of course you want to hear about the food because most people go there for the performances and not for jitterbugging and dinner, and probably don’t even notice what they’re eating. The food was incredible. The woman next to me, known for her gourmet parties, whispered that this was the first party where she actually ate , and I saw her go back for seconds. My favorite was the mushroom gnocchi and so was hers. Just now she called me to say her stomach hurt, but who knows if it wasn’t just overeating or a virus.
With the heat daring us to go outside, we met some friends for breakfast at the gay cafe in Gan Meir. All the dogs were running around happily(except of course Shusha, who sat under the table and growled), and all the families were chilling out in the heat (until a lady got them together for story hour) and except for a thousand mistakes in the orders, we had a perfect morning. Most of our breakfast companion were walking around in Jerusalem last night, and Orit even went to Mea Shaarim, with the excuse that she’s interested in recycling, and all agreed that it is much better to be in Tel Aviv.
Instead of the concert last night we had guests. They came in and sat down. “Would you like something to drink?” I asked as the proper beginning for an evening. “Water,” the modest guests answered. “Do you have your ration books?” I responded, as politely as I could.
Your faithful restuarant correspondent here with another update. I promised myself that if I worked hard all morning I’d go out for lunch. So the lunch at Benny Hadayag in Herzlia Marina was a prize even before I walked in. But it was a prize anyway. Although I was a little upset with the aquarium on the back wall which looked a little too narrow to be comfortable, with a mirror at the back to give it the appearance of depth, I was very pleased with the food. And there was a lot of it. Before we began to order there were little plates on the table – chraime (morrocan spicey fish), salads, eggplant with tehina, etc etc ad invinitum. Maybe because I was with someone famous there was more on the table that would have been the ordinarily, but I took advantage and tasted everything – at least 10 dishes. Then the delicious shrimps. Ay ya yay. All very simple and succulent. And then coffee and Malabi worth saving place for. I don’t think I’ve ever been there before but I’m sure I’ll be back. And it was empty when we walked in, and only one quarter full when we left. The only problem is that I don’t know what the bill was.
With the weather cooling just a bit today, I grabbed the opportunity to do some chores. But they were all retail chores and somehow I just missed the big sales, paying full price for all the things I’ve been saying I’ll pick up all year. Everything from furniture polish to a dress for a wedding. When I got home a friend called to make sure I’m coming to some of the free or cheap events in Tel Aviv this week – from La Scala in the park to the farmers’ market in the port with jazz and tasting to the opera classes in yaffo. Why did I think in terms of shopping instead of entertainment? My mentality is all wrong. I have to stop thinking in terms of what must be done and start thinking in terms of letting the city happen in my presence.
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