Bilhah Yinon: The Woman Who Created a New, Better World – From Scrap

Bilhah, who was murdered along with her husband on October 7, was an artist full of optimism, compassion, and good-heartedness. She dedicated her life to educating younger generations to love and preserve nature. The adorable children's book character she created is part of her legacy.

3 832 629 Blog 7.10

Bilhah and Ya'akov Yinon, and the book “Parparit, Gruti and Me" [Hebrew], written by Bilhah Yinon. Photo from her daughter’s Facebook page

”Gruti”, a riff on the Hebrew word gruta’ah (junk, scrap), is made of a can of juice, duct tape, bits of cloth, and plastic bottles. But for Bilhah Yinon, author of the books Gruti and Parparit, Gruti, and Me, Gruti is a guard dog and loyal friend she created to help connect us to nature and remind us to protect it. One could perhaps translate Gruti as “Scrappy”.

The book Gruti, which came out in 1993, is part of a long-standing vision of Bilhah’s, a vision in which members of the younger generation would be taught to protect nature, recycle, and create. Bilhah Yinon was an artist, an art teacher, and an educator, as well as a credentialed parental instructor at the Adler Institute. She lived in Netiv Ha’Asarah, a moshav (a cooperative agricultural community) located on the northern border of the Gaza Strip.

At age 56, she took an early retirement and set up a studio on the moshav. There she worked, taught, and produced art – primarily using the Mandala Method which serves as a form of meditative exercise and an artistic expression of universal human values, while also strengthening concentration and balance.

The studio is the only part of the home Bilhah shared with her partner Yaakov that remains standing today in Netiv Ha’Asarah. The events of October 7 cut their lives short – but they did not destroy the dreams, artworks, and love which Bilhah spread to her students, to her family, to her five children to whom she devoted her books, and to everyone who knew her.

Whatsapp Image 2024 08 25 At 12.30.38 (1)
Children’s books written by Bilhah Yinon and kept at the National Library: Gruti and Parparit, Gruti, and Me

Bilhah was designated as the last “missing person” of October 7. In early August 2024, the IDF confirmed that it had identified her body. That cursed morning, three terrorists infiltrated Netiv Ha’Asarah. Yaakov was murdered in the massacre and his body was identified.

Bilhah, meanwhile was designated as a “missing person” because there was no sign that she had been taken to Gaza and because no sign of her remains was found at first. Since the two were together, the family expected to hear the worst and even sat shivah for both of them the day after the massacre. Despite this, the ultimate confirmation of her death was painful, forcing the painful feelings and trauma back to the surface.

Her daughter Maayan Yinon spoke to us about Bilhah’s books which can be found at the National Library, as well as her mother’s worldview: “My father would always laugh at mom that she was a trash collector. She was really ahead of her time when it came to recycling. She would do amazing things,” Maayan told us. “I remember her artworks hanging up since I was a baby. It was part of the mindset of her and my father, who’s an agronomist. They had a connection to nature and the land, and she believed that the less you bought, the better.”

In the book Gruti, a lonely child decides to make himself a dog from scrap – who then becomes his friend. The child presents the dog to his parents, who aren’t big on the idea at first, but who later help their son collect more elements for his dog-doll. Gruti protects the child, the home, and the garden and reminds the family to protect nature.

Whatsapp Image 2024 08 25 At 12.30.39
Cover the can with cloth, glue on a mouth, eyes and ears using cloth or felt…” – instructions for how to make your own “Gruti” at the end of the book

In the book’s sequel Parparit, Gruti, and Me, the child and his good friend Gruti find a plastic bag in the street. They turn it into a butterfly doll called Parparit (“female butterfly” in Hebrew), who teaches them to be happy and dance. The two books contain a detailed description for children on how to make their own “Gruti” and “Parparit” with bottles, caps, bags, and more at the back of the book.

Maayan has the original Gruti doll from the book: “Originally, my mother and Maurizio the illustrator submitted the book’s text and illustrations to a scholarship fund and they won first prize. That’s how she published it. I remember her excitement when the books came, we were all excited. All the grandchildren were given a workshop on how to make their own Gruti and Parparit. At the party for my daughter’s fourth birthday, she and mom prepared a play for kindergarten based on the [Levin] Kipnis story, Shloshah Parparim [Three Butterflies]. Mom made three butterflies just like Parparit.”

Whatsapp Image 2024 08 25 At 12.35.42
“When Dad came to tell me good night, he saw Parparit in my bed…” – From the book Parparit, Gruti, and Me

Literature, creativity, and the art of reading storybooks were all a part of Bilhah’s everyday life. She very much missed her grandchildren who live in London. Every morning, she would get up to read them a story by Zoom, and the grandchildren would sit and listen to Grandma Bilhah.

Bilhah’s connection to her children and grandchildren, both in Israel and abroad, was exceptional, and she chose to communicate with them using her various senses as well as their own creativity:

“She believed that that we’re allowed to feel anything and that [the children] should express their inner creativity. Her house was almost entirely devoid of things you needed to ‘protect’ and you could always act freely, even if something fell down. There was a lot of creativity around – paper, markers and blocks. You could always find something to do which didn’t involve watching a screen. This was at the core of the atmosphere in that house,” Maayan said.

“There was a ‘rage corner’ in the yard. Whoever was really angry and needed to get out their anger – got to do it there. She would give the children plates and you could break or throw them in that corner which had many shattered fragments of all sorts of plates. I am sorry I didn’t understand then just how much she understood children and youth. It took me time to understand, but the grandchildren were simply privileged to have a grandmother and grandfather who were very sensitive to their needs and who really understood them. No judgment.”

מהמשפחה
Bilhah reading a book to her grandchildren in London. Photo courtesy of her daughter Maayan

Bilhah and Yaakov were special people, who were connected to the land and who had a great deal of humor and love in their hearts. Bilhah would come each time with a new creative idea and Yaakov would encourage her and support her and her desire to do what she wanted. She used various materials from everyday life in her works, even collecting stones from around the world to create art that was full of life.

In the books she managed to publish, Bilhah wrote happy stories about magical places. Through these stories, she succeeded in delivering deeper messages about love, friendship, and overcoming difficulties, while weaving together reality and imagination. Today they carry on the memory of their author, who was murdered by Hamas terrorists – a woman who left behind a legacy which continues to touch many hearts.

“I learned from mom about the importance of ‘communicating at eye level’ with children and adults, on the possibility of creating in almost any situation, that it’s worth it to paint together or do something simple, a pleasant jaunt together, it’s very important,” Maayan said. “It was important for her to accumulate good experiences together and teach that the nature around us is just as sensitive as we are and that it’s important to protect it.”

Capture
With great sorrow we announce the death of our grandfather and grandmother, our beloved mother and father, Bilhah and Ya’akov Yinon…” – an obituary notice published on the Facebook page of Maoz Yinon, son of Bilhah and Ya’akov, on October 8, 2023

The family went through very difficult days upon learning of the certain death of Yinon, even though they already knew and assumed this was the case. Maayan, a body-mind therapist by profession, deals with the pain admirably:

“These are very challenging days. We feel great sadness and anger. But I want to stress – we have received love which accompanies us. First of all, the love of my parents is very much felt even now, and we also received love and support from many good people along the way. Every opportunity to talk about them, and any project done or planned in their memory provides hope and belief for me that we can establish a reality of gentleness, sensitivity, and beauty in this world even in terrible and difficult times.

“This is mom’s legacy. She would succeed in creating a magical, amazing, beautiful world within a complicated reality. She would find creative solutions for renewal amidst depression. So, if I choose to be here, then I must think how I want to feel. It’s true that it’s very hard right now. I don’t feel happiness, maybe for a few brief moments. But I do succeed in experiencing a sense of gratitude, for the family I had and have, and the parents I had.”

Lives Lost: The Works of the October 7 Fallen – A Special Project

The Kaminitz Hotel: Where Theodor Herzl Couldn’t Get a Room

If you were visiting Jerusalem in the late 19th century, and were a person of means and stature, you might have enjoyed the accommodations of the city's first modern Jewish hotel. Unless of course, your name was Theodor Herzl... We dug through the hotel's guest book and went on a journey back in time.

Theodor Herzl, studio photograph. The photograph is preserved by Yad Yitzhak Ben-Zvi (Israel Revealed), the L'Avenir Illustre ("The Illustrated Future") newspaper collection, Morocco, and is made digitally available on the website of the National Library of Israel thanks to the collaborative efforts of Yad Yitzhak Ben-Zvi, the Ministry of Jerusalem and Heritage, and the National Library of Israel. In the background: drawing for an advertisement for the Kaminitz Hotel.

The Middle Eastern sun beat down on the crowded, filthy streets of the Holy City. Towards the end of Ottoman rule, Jerusalem wasn’t a particularly attractive tourist destination to put it mildly, though certain groups of Jewish and Christian pilgrims did embark on the risky journey even during this period, for primarily religious reasons.

Winds of change began to blow over the city during the latter half of the 19th century. The great colonialist powers helped the Ottoman government wrest back control of Jerusalem, after a brief period of Egyptian rulership under Muhammad Ali and Ibrahim Pasha. In exchange for this aid, the international powers were given a foothold in the famous city, which still struggled to display the grandeur many expected of it.

Britain, Prussia, and France were the first to establish their own institutions and compounds in Jerusalem, and other superpowers followed. Churches and cathedrals were built alongside consulate offices, and this helped attract visitors from all over the world.

The Jews weren’t sitting idly either; Jewish philanthropists who made their fortunes abroad (the most famous being Sir Moses Montefiore) invested in land purchases, sparking a building boom that extended beyond the walls of the Old City. Thus, the “New City” was born. While it was perhaps a bit dangerous in those early days, the living conditions in the new neighborhoods were far better than those within the Old City walls. Meanwhile, the Zionist movement was growing stronger, and it too set its sights on the city from which it drew its name. People like Eliezer Ben-Yehuda, the reviver of the Hebrew language who arrived in 1881, came to settle in Jerusalem, breathing new life into the stone alleyways.

All this led to a lively influx of tourists, visitors and guests of different sorts– Jews, Christians, and Muslims, traders, statesmen, and religious pilgrims. There were people and families in quantities and types that the city hadn’t seen for centuries. Among them was a man named Herzl, whose peculiar story we will elaborate on further down.

One individual by the name of Menachem Mendel Boim of Kaminitz realized that anyone would could provide a decent place to stay in the city would be exploiting a tremendous economic opportunity. Menachem Mendel grew up in an Orthodox Jewish family in Kaminitz (also spelled Kamyenyets or Kamenets), Lithuania, but dreamed of raising his children in the Land of Israel. When he was betrothed to Tzipa, the daughter of Rabbi Uri Lipa, he conditioned their marriage on her family’s acceptance of their immigration to the Holy Land. But a few years later, when the young couple finally fulfilled the husband’s dream, things began to go awry.

Fl7664821
The Kaminitz family at the entrance to the hotel on Jaffa Street. This picture is from the Jacob Wahrman Archive, the National Library of Israel.

The Kaminitz family, who adopted the name of their original hometown, settled in Safed, where they faced an assortment of tribulations: During the 1833 plague, Tzipa and Menachem Mendel lost their firstborn son; during the 1834 Syrian Peasant Revolt (the region was considered part of Ottoman Syria at the time), they experienced physical violence and their home was looted; and the 1837 earthquake left them destitute and homeless.

They decided to move to Jerusalem. There, in the Holy City that was slowly beginning to show signs of modern development, they built their guest house – the first Jewish hotel in the modern Land of Israel. It was quite a modest inn, but it was clean and respectable with its European stylings, providing accommodation along with Tzipa’s excellent home-cooked meals to tourists of all religions who made their way to Jerusalem.

Capture4
opening its gates to our brothers, lords and counts, who come to visit our holy land, and who find their tables here finely prepared for their pleasure…” – a pathos-drenched advertisement for the Kaminitz Hotel in the Havatzelet newspaper, January 1, 1909 [Hebrew]. From the National Library’s Historical Jewish Press Collection.

Although it was the first of its kind, this modest establishment wouldn’t have entered the annals of history had it remained as it first was. It was Menachem Mendel’s son, Eliezer Lipman Kaminitz, who took the family business to the next level. First, he moved the hotel to Jaffa Street (it was located in a previous incarnation of what is now Jerusalem’s well known Clal Center), but he wasn’t satisfied with that location. In 1883, he rented a building situated between Ha-Nevi’im (The Prophets) Street and Jaffa Street from the Volhynia Kolel and officially opened the new, modern “Hotel Jerusalem”. Despite Eliezer’s attempts at rebranding, the establishment quickly became known to all as the newest incarnation of the, by now familiar, “Kaminitz Hotel”.

This was no longer a modest inn offering only clean beds or a decent breakfast. A garden was planted in the courtyard and a wide path was paved for carriages. The hotel rooms were equipped with all the comforts of the era: chamber pots, mosquito nets, and bathing basins awaited travelers who often arrived dusty and tired. The hotel lobby offered a daily page summarizing the latest international headlines from the Reuters News Agency. In the center of the room stood the pinnacle of modern technology in the form of an elegant telephone device. The telephone number was 53.

Modernization took over all aspects of the hotel’s management, including its marketing. Advertising posters were designed and sent to selected newspapers in Europe, and the Kaminitz family signed deals with travel agents who met tourists arriving at the train station and offered them tour packages that included the finest accommodations to be found in the area – the Kaminitz Hotel.

Capture2
Drawing for an advertisement for the Kaminitz Hotel, Jerusalem. The image is preserved by Yad Yitzhak Ben-Zvi (Israel Revealed), the Shoshana Halevi Collection, and is made digitally available on the website of the National Library of Israel thanks to the collaborative efforts of Yad Yitzhak Ben-Zvi, the Ministry of Jerusalem and Heritage and the National Library of Israel.

Business was booming and the guests, for the most part, were very pleased with the service, the cleanliness, and the excellent food, which had a good reputation among local Jerusalemites as well. For example, as the British consul’s wife Elizabeth Finn wrote, European bread could only be obtained at Kaminitz.

Although the meals at the hotel were strictly kosher and one of the spacious rooms was designated as a synagogue and Beit Midrash (Jewish study house), guests came from all over the world and from a wide range of religions and nationalities.

In the hotel guest book, preserved today at the National Library, you can find the complements showered upon the establishment by its guests (mostly male, since the custom of the time mandated that when couples and families arrived at the hotel, it was the man who was given the privilege of inscribing his impressions). The guest book entries were written in Yiddish, 19th-century Hebrew, Arabic, English, French, German, and many other languages.

Alongside plenty of unclear signatures and unfamiliar names, one can also find the autographs of a range of well-known figures. Among the hotel’s guests were people like Baron de Rothschild, Ahad Ha’am, Nahum Sokolow, Lord Herbert Samuel, Joseph Carlebach, Menachem Ussishkin, Dr. Joseph Klausner, Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, Henry Morgenthau Sr., Naftali Herz Imber, and others.

Dedupmrg804086707 Ie78635708 Fl78636792
The Kaminitz Hotel’s guest book, preserved at the National Library of Israel. A stunning variety of languages and handwriting styles

There is only one dubious guest experience at the famous hotel that we’re aware of, and it involved Theodor Herzl.

Herzl arrived in Jerusalem to meet with the last German Emperor, Wilhelm II, who was then visiting the Holy Land. Given everything described above, the Kaminitz Hotel was Herzl’s preferred choice of accommodation. He booked rooms in advance – for himself and for the several companions who joined him.

But the Emperor’s visit was an Olympic-scale event for Jerusalem, which, despite its historical significance, was still a relatively small city. The demand placed on tourism and transportation services was immense, and Herzl, who had fallen slightly ill with a fever during the trip, ran into complications.

The train that was supposed to arrive on Friday afternoon in Jerusalem was either delayed or at full capacity, and the Zionist visionary had to wait for a later train that was not on the original schedule but was added due to the overload. Reports on this are somewhat contradictory, but one thing is clear – the train with the ailing and miserable Herzl only arrived at the Jerusalem station in the evening, after the Jewish Sabbath had already begun.

Capture7
Herzl at the Western Wall during his visit to the Land of Israel. This photograph is preserved in the Rosh Pina Archive and is digitally available on the website of the National Library of Israel, thanks to the collaborative efforts of the Abraham Blum Rosh Pina Archive, the Ministry of Jerusalem and Heritage, and the National Library of Israel.

The hotel carriage that was supposed to be waiting for him at the station was no longer there, and Herzl adamantly refused to use any other carriage so as not to offend the Sabbath-observant Jews in the city. Lacking any other option, the small group set out on foot, at the slow pace of someone feeling unwell and unused to the Middle-Eastern weather and rough roads.

The travelers weren’t too bothered. They were sure they would soon arrive at the hotel and enjoy a good meal, a bath, and a warm bed, where Herzl could recover for his meeting with the German Emperor. But an unpleasant surprise awaited them. Once the Sabbath had begun, the hotel staff assumed that Herzl wouldn’t be arriving that day. There was a long waiting list full of German nobles and military men who had accompanied the Emperor to Jerusalem, so the staff figured there was no need to leave the rooms empty. When Herzl arrived, someone else was sleeping in his bed.

There is general consensus about the story so far, but from this point on, it differs depending on the teller. It was late at night and Herzl had no place else to go, so he had no choice but to stay within the confines of the hotel. What happened next seems to be a matter of opinion.

According to the most uneventful version of the story, he was given a tiny, uncomfortable room to share with one of his companions. Other versions claim that he had to make do with an old bed that was dragged out of storage and placed in a corridor without any privacy, or that Herzl simply slept on a pool table in the lounge since there were no beds available.

Either way, the members of Herzl’s small entourage were less than impressed with the hotel after this miserable experience. The next morning, they left and spent the remainder of their time in the country at “Stern House” near the Mamilla neighborhood.

This unpleasant incident didn’t affect the business of the Kaminitz family, who by then had become successful hoteliers, opening establishments in other cities including Hebron, Jaffa, Jericho, and Petah Tikva.

Capture8
The next generation expanded the family business. Pictured: Abraham Bezalel, Eliezer Lipman Kaminitz’s eldest son. This picture is preserved by Yad Yitzhak Ben-Zvi (Israel Revealed), the Julius Jotham Rothschild Collection, and is made digitally available on the NLI website thanks to the collaborative efforts of Yad Yitzhak Ben-Zvi, the Ministry of Jerusalem and Heritage, and the National Library of Israel.

As for the hotel itself, by the early 20th century, the building was too small to meet demands, and it moved to a more spacious building near the Old City’s Jaffa Gate.

When World War I broke out, the Ottoman authorities confiscated the building on Ha-Nevi’im Street. Since then, it has served as a post office, school, residential building, and workshop.

If you make your way to Ha-Nevi’im Street in Jerusalem, you can see a faint shadow of this once magnificent hotel. The building still stands today, neglected and gloomy, with the threat of demolition looming over it due to insufficient interest from the authorities.

Whatsapp Image 2024 06 05 At 11.30.04
Impressions in Arabic of a different era in Jerusalem: “… when I arrived at this place, I found only comfort and tranquility,” from the guest book of the Kaminitz Hotel, which is preserved at the National Library of Israel.

“Israel’s Miss Manners” Extends an Outstretched Hand

While researching the history of Israeli social etiquette at the National Library, Noa Bavly accidently stumbled across a particular book that had once belonged to her great-grandmother, Hanna Bavly - Israel's own "Miss Manners"…

832 629 Blog

Hanna Bavly, Israel's queen of etiquette, and the book "Hanna Bavly is Rolling in Her Grave", written by her great-granddaughter Noa Bavly - images courtesy of Noa Bavly

When I was about to graduate from Bezalel Academy of Art and Design, I started thinking about my final project. I decided to create a book from scratch – designing it, forming the concept, choosing the format, the fonts and the images as well as the type of paper. I even made the book cover myself using several techniques and stitched and bound it by hand. In a digital age, I wanted to go back to the fundamentals and create a book whose pages cannot be swiped with a finger.

In order to choose a subject, I looked at my family and surroundings. I wanted to choose a personal subject that would also be relevant and timely. This led me to the idea of writing about current Israeli society from a historical and personal perspective, using the writings of my great-grandmother, the late Hanna Bavly, who was nicknamed “Israel’s Miss Manners.”

Noa5
Hanna Bavly visiting a chemical plant in South Africa, photo courtesy of Noa Bavly

The production of the book required extensive and serious cultural and historical research. In my research I went to the National Library of Israel. Searching for books on manners and etiquette, I found an American book from the 1980s (The New Etiquette by Marjabelle Young Stewart, St. Martin’s Press) and took it out. Upon opening the book, on the inside cover, was a surprise. An outstretched hand from the past. In the first page of the book was an inscription that noted the book had once been a part of my great-grandmother Hanna Bavly’s personal collection (she had hundreds of books on the subject), and was donated to the National Library by her son after her death.

Noa9
Noa Bavly was surpised to learn that the book she had loaned from the National Library of Israel (The New Etiquette by Marjabelle Young Stewart, St. Martin’s Press) was donated to the NLI by her own great-grandmother, Hanna Bavly

But as I said, Hanna Bavly’s meticulous manners were just a starting point for a timely and relevant statement. The book I designed focuses on manners—or more precisely—the lack of manners in Israeli society. It draws a line between the iconic figure of Hanna Bavly (whose name became synonymous with manners and etiquette) and contemporary Israel.

Noa10
Hanna Bavly was Israel’s leading expert on etiquette and manners. Above is a page from The New Etiquette by Marjabelle Young Stewart, which Bavly donated to the National Library of Israel

The book’s third chapter, titled “The Dream and Its Downfall” contrasts Hanna’s manners and etiquette advice from her “Questions and Answers” column that she wrote from the early 1960s until the late 1980s with cringeworthy, embarrassing, humorous, vulgar, and iconic moments in Israeli culture and public life. The chapter focuses on four aspects in which vulgarity prevails: interpersonal relationships, politics, table manners and road rage.

Noa6
Two of Hanna Bavly’s newspaper columns on etiquette – on the left Hanna advises one of her readers not to intervene in the work of the waiting staff at a restaurant, even when a pile of dirty dishes is waiting to be removed. On the right – Hanna advises a woman who is consistently ignored by her husband during social encounters to take initiative and not wait to be introduced – “Introduce yourself, with your full name and position, to any person whom you feel it is right and necessary for you to know. It is likely that after a few such independent introductions, your husband will change his practice.” – courtesy of Noa Bavly

The other three chapters include an introduction to the history of manners in both Israeli and universal context, a chapter on the life and work of Hanna Bavly and a closing chapter featuring relevant academic articles that broaden the perspective and view.

Poster
A poster promoting a lecture and Q&A session in Tel Aviv with Hanna Bavly, titled “Our Manners – What We Have and What We Desire”, November 11, 1967. The Tel Aviv – Yafo City Archives, available via the NLI digital collection

I tailored the design to match the content of the chapters: the first two chapters, focusing on the history of manners, etiquette, and Hanna Bavly herself, as well as the fourth (academic) chapter, are designed with restraint and sophistication. The third chapter however, which contrasts Hanna’s polite advice with Israeli reality, is designed in a wild style reminiscent of trashy tabloids.

I designed the book in a way that recalled Hanna’s columns – just like Hanna, I too decided that a serious message can best be conveyed with a healthy dose of humor. I kept the original titles and Q&As of Hanna Bavly’s columns and incorporated them in my book ironically. This choice contributes to the critical, ironic and amusing language of the book.

Hanna Bavly is Rolling in Her Grave, by Noa Bavly

The book Hanna Bavly is Rolling in Her Grave is my final project for the Department of Visual Communication at Bezalel Academy of Art and Design in Jerusalem. I am grateful and appreciative to my final project mentor, Idan Vaaknin, for his close and enriching guidance. He was the perfect role model teaching me a lot and providing me with a significant experience. I am hoping to publish my book soon so stay tuned.

You can find more of Noa Bavly’s art at: instagram.com/noartnb/

Remembering Ephraim Kishon, Israel’s Champion of Satire

Israel is marking a century since the birth of its greatest satirist. No doubt, he would have a lot to say about the current state of Israeli society…

Kishon832

Ephraim Kishon in his office, 1971, photo by Boris Karmi, the Meitar Collection, the Pritzker Family National Photography Collection, the National Library of Israel

During Iftach Leibovich’s childhood in Jerusalem, the family would play a board game called Havila Higiya (“A Package Arrived”). The premise was this: You receive a letter stating that something reached the post office and to come pick it up. Along the way, you confront obstacles to attaining the package: missing identification papers, needing a new photo for the ID and so on.

The game was all too realistic for Israelis used to the daily struggles of accomplishing basic tasks in a bureaucracy-laden society.

“It was the stupidest game and the most brilliant game,” said Leibovich.

Havila Higiya was created by Ephraim Kishon, still acclaimed as the greatest humorist, satirist and social commentator in Israel’s history. Kishon, who died in 2005, was born 100 years ago this month.

Ephraim Kishon in 1966, photo by Boris Karmi, the Meitar Collection, the Pritzker Family National Photography Collection, the National Library of Israel

One of his legacies is that Leibovich is the artistic director of the Israel Comedy Festival in Honor of Ephraim Kishon, a week-long celebration held each August at Jerusalem’s Incubator Theater.

The event includes lectures and stagings of Kishon’s work, along with contemporary comedic plays and stand-up appearances.

Experts tie Kishon’s keen observations of society, from the perspective of an average Israeli, to his being an outsider. Kishon was a Holocaust survivor from Hungary whose name — he was born Ferenc Hoffmann — was Hebraicized by a port official upon immigrating in 1949.

Sallah
Chaim Topol and Esther Greenberg in the film Sallah Shabati, written and directed by Ephraim Kishon. From the Chaim Topol Archive, courtesy of the family and with the cooperation of the Ministry of Jerusalem and Heritage, the National Library of Israel and the University of Haifa (colorization by MyHeritage)

He quickly learned and mastered Hebrew and soon was penning columns in the language in local newspapers. He went on to write books and screenplays and make films. Two of the five movies he directed, Sallah Shabati (1964) and The Policeman (1971), which he also wrote and co-produced, earned Academy Award nominations as best foreign-language films.

997001754100405171
A promotional poster for the 1971 Oscar-nominated Hebrew film The Policeman, written and directed by Ephraim Kishon and starring Shaike Ophir, the Jerusalem Cinematheque – Israel Film Archive Collection, available online via the NLI digital collection
11026 004 23
Ephraim Kishon pictured with Shaike Ophir and wife at the premiere of the film The Fox in the Chicken Coop, May, 1978. Photo by Danny Gotfried, the Dan Hadani Collection, the Pritzker Family National Photography Collection, the National Library of Israel

The Family Book (titled in its English translations as My Family, Right or Wrong), Kishon’s 1977 collection of essays and fiction stories about home life during his early years in Israel, is said to be the second-most-purchased book in Hebrew after the Bible.

500 Golden Globe
Topol and Kishon with the Golden Globe, Maariv, February 19, 1965, the Historical Jewish Press Collection at the National Library of Israel

Both Leibovich and Ziv Hermelin-Shadar — who at the festival hosted podcasts discussing each of the films screened daily, dubbed “Kishoncasts” — cited The Family Book as a key influence.

It was the first book Leibovich’s father gave him — the boy was about 13 — and, “from that, I became a big fan of Kishon,” he said.

Hermelin-Shadar was about 10 when he first read it. “It’s a book that’s very Jewish and very family-oriented,” he said. “It makes me laugh. Kishon, in his stories, is trying to live life, and other people are ruining it for him. He succeeds in capturing the wackiness … of Israeli society.”

11026 003 02
Ephraim Kishon with Menachem Begin, Israel’s Prime Minister at the time, at the premiere of the film The Fox in the Chicken Coop, May, 1978. Photo by Danny Gotfried, the Dan Hadani Collection, the Pritzker Family National Photography Collection, the National Library of Israel

Such wackiness arose recently over a play scheduled for this summer’s festival. The play’s promotional poster unintentionally sparked a controversy Kishon might’ve enjoyed.

The poster shows the faces of three men and the play’s title, Naked. The word is meant as a metaphor for the show’s theme as a behind-the-scenes look at how a circus operates. No one is nude. But some Jerusalem residents presumed indecency and pressured the mayor’s office to withdraw its funding for the festival and to shut down the show. Leibovich wrote a long letter defending the work and stressing that no one appeared naked.

“It’s poetic that this happened at a Kishon festival,” he said. “To make a big deal about it was a farce. There was nothing for me to fight against because there was nothing to censor.”

The show’s three performances proceeded as scheduled.

11026 007 44
Ephraim Kishon with Yitzhak and Leah Rabin, at the premiere of the film The Fox in the Chicken Coop, May, 1978. Photo by Danny Gotfried, the Dan Hadani Collection, the Pritzker Family National Photography Collection, the National Library of Israely

Kishon’s accomplishments went hand-in-hand with insecurity. Alongside placards of his films and plays on his office’s walls appeared articles written by critics.

990044968010205171
Ephraim Kishon in his office, 1973. Photo by IPPA staff photgrapher, the Dan Hadani Archive, the Pritzker Family National Photography Collection, the National Library of Israel

“He felt he wasn’t appreciated. He wanted more love from critics,” said Hermelin-Shadar. “He was a great success, but felt that he wasn’t accepted here as [such].”

Following his father’s death at his summer home in Switzerland, Rafi Kishon was asked to develop a one-man show for Tel Aviv’s Cameri Theater. As a veterinarian, he’d spoken about animals on numerous television programs and was comfortable appearing before the camera. But writing and performing in the show, Ten Things You Didn’t Know About Ephraim Kishon, was extra-gratifying, he said.

He performs it monthly at the Cameri — it’s now titled Ephraim Kishon: Humor, Life and Films — and accepts private bookings from groups. The appearances involve screening movie clips and telling stories about his father.

“What I say is unique about Ephraim Kishon’s humor is that it unites Israelis of all types,” he explained.

“I take it as a compliment when I perform and people say, ‘The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.’ It’s a good feeling to walk in my father’s shoes.”

997009327551305171
Ephraim Kishon in his office, 1971, photo by Boris Karmi, the Meitar Collection, the Pritzker Family National Photography Collection, the National Library of Israel

Leibovich, too, has walking in mind. For a Kishon festival, he’d like to organize an interactive version of Havila Higiya, with participants following the game’s instructions to traipse around Jerusalem in an effort, challenging as it promises to be, to pick up a package at the post office.

“I’ve dreamt of it,” he said, “since the first festival.”

Writer-editor Hillel Kuttler can be reached at [email protected]