Gregor Craigie, host of CBC Radio One’s On the Island, interviews Eleanor Wachtel at Congregation Emanu-El on Sept. 15, at 2 p.m., about her career helming the CBC’s premier literary program, Writers & Company. During her 33-year tenure with the show, Wachtel spoke with a Who’s Who of authors, including Saul Bellow, Michael Ondaatje, Mordecai Richler, John le Carré and Kazuo Ishiguro.
“[Eleanor’s] sense of respect, her tact, her utter lack of obsequiousness . . . and her uncanny ability to ask difficult questions have endeared her to readers and listeners,” said Canadian writer Carol Shields, whose book, The Stone Diaries, won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction in 1995.
Craigie is both an author and an expert interviewer in his own right. A journalist for more than 25 years, his most recent book, Our Crumbling Foundation, which examines Canada’s housing crisis, is a national bestseller.
The event is part of Emanu-El’s 160th anniversary celebrations, and is a fundraiser for the synagogue, which is undergoing structural and other renovations. Tickets ($36) can be purchased at ticketowl.io/cevbc.
Volozhin Yeshivah in Belarus, 2017. In learning about the institution, Mark Weintraub was moved to sponsor a lecture on it, in honour of his mother, and to champion restoration efforts. (photo by Da voli)
“How did I not know about this?” That was the question echoing through the mind of Vancouver lawyer Mark Weintraub, a longtime student of Jewish intellectual history, when he first learned about Volozhin Yeshivah, a once-illustrious place of study that he describes as “the Harvard, MIT and Yale of the Jewish people rolled into one.”
Once Weintraub understood the influence Volozhin – which was open from 1806 to 1892 in what was then Russia – had on the Jewish world, he was stunned that it was so little known. His passion about this treasure of Jewish history led to his participation in organizing a recent online class, From Volozhin to Vancouver, taught by Rabbi Yitzchak Breitowitz, the rav and a teacher of Ohr Samayach Yeshivah in Israel, whose resumé includes having been a professor of law at the University of Maryland. It led, as well, to Weintraub’s championing of an effort to restore the still-standing building of the yeshivah, which is in Belarus.
To spread knowledge of Volozhin and to honour his late mother, Rita Weintraub, z”l, a lifelong devotee of Jewish learning, Weintraub helped organize and sponsor the online class with Congregation Beth Hamidrash, Congregation Schara Tzedeck, Vancouver Hebrew Academy and Shalhevet Girls High School. On Oct. 18, more than 60 people gathered to learn from Breitowitz on Zoom. Weintraub introduced the lecture, dedicating it to his mother, and Rabbi Ari Federgrun of Schara Tzedeck moderated the discussion. Breitowitz had risen at 5:30 a.m. in Israel to give the lecture about the legend and history of Volozhin, whose very name, he said, “carries an aura of mystery and delight.”
Volozhin is sometimes called “the mother of yeshivot,” since it was the first modern, institutionalized yeshivah, explained Breitowitz. It was established by Rav Chaim Volozhiner (1749-1821), a famed kabbalist and Torah scholar. Rav Chaim was a student of the Vilna Gaon (1720-1797), a towering figure at the time and the leader of non-Chassidic Jewry in Eastern Europe. The Vilna Gaon had led the Orthodox opposition to Chassidism, concerned about its radical theological ideas and the possibility that Chassidim might transgress Jewish law and lead to extremist mystical movements that would disrupt or damage the Jewish community. Followers of the Vilna Gaon came to be known as Misnagdim (Opponents), as the Chassidic movement grew to become the dominant force in Eastern European Jewish life.
Rav Chaim, who did not sign the Gaon’s writ of excommunication against the Chassidim, took a gentler stance towards the movement than his teacher. He focused his efforts on teaching an intellectually intense absorption in Torah study for its own sake and a fierce devotion to the observance of halachah (Jewish law) as a form of devotion to God.
Rav Chaim formed the Volozhin yeshivah to create a new kind of environment for study. Instead of the local learning that took place in small houses of study in the shtetls, Volozhin was a large institution that provided both housing and food to its students, and taught young Jewish men from near and far. “The Volozhiner wanted yeshivahs to be non-local institutions which all of Israel had a stake in,” explained Breitowitz. “He didn’t like a few large donors but many small donors.”
The yeshivah had 24-hour learning that was intended to sustain the world with the power of Torah and de-emphasize practical legal rulings for the sake of pure disinterested study. Volozhin – and its immediate offspring in the form of other similar yeshivot started by its graduates – created both a new model of Jewish learning and a generation of non-Chassidic luminaries with a far-ranging and decisive influence on orthodoxy and beyond. A short list of the graduates it produced, or who taught there, included Rav Chaim Soloveitchik (the Brisker Rav, 1853-1918), Rav Nafatli Yehuda Berlin (the Netziv, 1816-1891), Rav Abraham Isaac Kook (1865-1935) and many others, including both Zionists and anti-Zionists, mystics, ethicists and legalists.
The yeshivah environment encouraged creative ferment and demanded intellectual rigour, and Volozhin was not only famed for the Orthodox leaders it produced. Some of the students became leaders in the Haskalah, or Jewish Enlightenment, and it was rumoured that secret books were passed among students and housed in a hidden library full of philosophy, science and secular language texts. Among its luminaries in this regard was Chaim Nachman Bialik (1873-1934), the renowned Israeli poet and writer.
In 1892, the Russian government closed Volozhin when the heads of the yeshivah refused to change the daily schedule to curtail Torah study and include hours of government-approved secular studies. While it reopened in 1899 on a smaller scale, its glory days had passed.
Volozhin functioned until 1939, when the Second World War broke out. During the war, German soldiers used the building as a stable; later, it was a canteen and deli. The site was returned to the Jewish community of Belarus in 1989. In 1998, it was registered on the State List of Historical and Cultural Monuments of the Republic of Belarus.
It was the discovery of this history that so excited Weintraub. His mother had been a devotee of learning, libraries and study. “I wanted to have lectures to honour her, since it was difficult to communally mourn her during COVID,” said Weintraub. “I approached Rabbi [Don] Pacht at Vancouver Hebrew Academy about bringing in Rabbi Breitowitz.”
Wondering if the topic was too Orthodox for his mother, Weintraub, who has been involved in the Conservative movement for years, decided, “Nothing was ever too Jewish for her. She saw the goodness in everyone’s Judaism, no matter what it was, so I went ahead to tell this fascinating story of Jewish learning in her honour.”
For his part, Breitowitz has taken on a project to raise awareness and money for the reconstruction of Volozhin. He has begun organizing a group to work on it and is beginning “to raise momentum and find a way.”
“Five hundred years from now, Harvard, Yale and MIT are in ruins and everyone just walks by it?” he challenged. Volozhin, he said, “is a place that needs special attention from the Jewish community.”
Matthew Gindin is a freelance journalist, writer and lecturer. He has been published in Philosophy Now, Tricycle, the Forward and elsewhere. He blogs on Medium and is master teacher at Or Shalom Synagogue in Vancouver.
Israel’s Lavi furniture factory recreated Carlebach Synagogue’s original ark from three prewar black-and-white photos. (photo from IMP)
Viewing the restored Carlebach Synagogue in Lubeck, Germany, brings to mind the biblical prophecies of consolation, where the Jewish people are reassured that the day will come when not only will they be restored to their land, but their houses of worship will likewise be restored. Sadly, neither the shul’s rabbi nor any other of the original community members are alive today to revel in the synagogue’s reinstated glory; however, in an interesting twist, several of the rabbi’s grandchildren are the children of founding members of Kibbutz Lavi, whose furniture factory designed and built the synagogue’s ark and other holy articles.
Rabbi David Alexander Winter, rabbi of the Carlebach Synagogue, fled Lubeck in 1938, together with most of his community. Several months later, on Kristallnacht, when many of Germany’s synagogues were torched and burned to the ground, the Lubeck shul was damaged and looted, but not destroyed – the building had been sold to the municipality and the contract, signed by the rabbi, was inside the synagogue, in plain view.
For Winter’s grandchildren, seeing the restoration of their grandfather’s synagogue is especially moving. “It’s a feeling of coming full circle,” said Yehudit Menachem, who visited Lubeck last year, seeking to learn more about her family history. Dr. Ariel Romem, a pediatrician and one of the grandsons, remarked that the restoration is symbolic of the re-blossoming of the Winter family and of the Jewish people as a whole. “They may have ruined the shul, but they never succeeded in breaking us,” he said.
In the seven decades since the Holocaust, the once-stately synagogue, established in 1880, has suffered looting, a firebombing, squatters and general neglect. German architect Thomas Schröder-Berkentien began working on its restoration in 2010, but the project was stuck due to a lack of funding. In 2016, the federal government dedicated a sizable sum, with other funding arriving from the Schleswig-Holstein state, the Lubeck-based Possehl Foundation and UNESCO, which had declared the Old City of Lubeck a World Heritage Site. The total cost of the project amounted to almost $10 million.
Schröder-Berkentien was intent on finding the best craftspeople for the synagogue furniture, and also felt that it was only right that the furniture should come from Israel. He found the Lavi furniture factory online and, after several inquiries and a visit to the carpentry workshop along with his team, was assured that they had the necessary experience and expertise to perform the research and produce items of quality and beauty. Indeed, in its 60 years of operation, Lavi has designed and produced interiors for synagogues in more than 6,000 Jewish communities around the world, including for new and restored synagogues in Germany.
Motti Namdar, the factory’s chief planner, described the challenge, and ultimate satisfaction, of creating replicas of the original items. “We only had three prewar black-and-white photos to go by,” he explained. “The photos showed only one angle and even that was not very clear. It was difficult to make out a lot of the detailing or which metals were used, especially for the ark, which you can see from the photos is very unusual.”
Ultimately, much of Namdar’s work had to be done by deduction and a knowledge of the history of the period. “I traveled to Lubeck to see the synagogue and examine the parts that had not been damaged. Part of the ladies’ gallery was intact. The architect had hired restoration experts who carefully removed the layers of paint from the walls, exposing the original murals. The synagogue as a whole had been built in the Moorish style, and I proceeded in that direction.”
In one of the photos, it’s possible to make out the pointed roof-like structure at the top of the ark, which Namdar designed to include 1,500 “scales,” all coated in pure gold. Under Namdar’s direction, the Lavi factory completed all the articles by the deadline. “The hardest part wasn’t the tight schedule, but, rather, building everything such that it could be taken apart, packed and shipped, and then reassembled so that everything fit perfectly.”
Since its restoration, Carlebach Synagogue in Lubeck, Germany, has been serving as a spiritual hub for Lubeck’s 700-strong Jewish community. (photo from IMP)
But while it was clear to the craftspeople at Lavi that they wanted to produce replicas that were as authentic as possible, the project’s architect, Schröder-Berkentien, was intent that the structure itself, which was restored to be a national monument, should serve as a testament and, in his words, “like a wound,” as a painful reminder of the events of 1938. This was the reasoning behind his decision not to redo the synagogue’s original ornate façade, which, together with the cupola and other elements, had been destroyed on Kristallnacht. “The plain red brick tells the story of what happened,” he said. “A rebuilt façade would ignore that part of history, failing to show the suffering of the era. This is what makes it such a unique monument among other German synagogues.”
When news of the coronavirus pandemic first broke in January, the factory began working overtime so that everything would be ready for the gala re-inauguration, which was to have been attended by high-ranking German officials, including Chancellor Angela Merkel, members of the restoration committee and local community figures, as well as Winter’s grandchildren from Kibbutz Lavi. However, when it was finally time for the assembly and installation of the furniture, the world was already in COVID-19 lockdown. As soon as it was possible, Lavi sent their own experts from England to complete the work. Now, the synagogue stands in all its resplendent glory, but the ceremony has been postponed indefinitely.
The important thing is that the synagogue is open and operating, serving as a spiritual hub for Lubeck’s 700-strong Jewish community. “This synagogue is not only a place of prayer, but a symbol of the revival of Jewish life in Lubeck, throughout Germany and around the world,” said the current spiritual leader of Lubeck, Rabbi Nathan Grinberg.
– Courtesy International Marketing and Promotion (IMP)
Pinkas Kehillat Frankfurt am Main contains records of the membership dues and other payments made by the members of the Frankfurt community between 1729 and 1739. It also contains copies of records from the 17th century. The pinkas contains 384 leaves and is written in German in Hebrew letters. (photo from National Library of Israel)
Many know that Shavuot, which we just marked, commemorates the receiving of the Ten Commandments. Less well appreciated, however, is that this holiday is the Jewish people’s beginning as the People of the Book. In this regard, it should come as no surprise that, within two weeks of Shavuot, throughout Israel, we celebrate Book Week, Shavuah Hasefer. But enough about new books.
Since the 1970s, in a tucked-away corner of the National Library of Israel, a small, skilled team conserves and restores the books and documents, not just of the Jewish people’s long and complicated heritage, but those of Muslims and Christians.
Timna Elper heads this department, which currently comprises four full-time and one part-time staff. Until I visited them, I did not understand how challenging it is to physically preserve a written legacy – archival materials face a battery of foes, such as fungus, insects and rodents.
So, here is an admission: I naively believed the term bookworm just meant someone who loves to read books. While this does describe a certain kind of person, bookworms are actually an enemy of old books. Moreover, bookworms aren’t even worms – they’re the larvae of several species of beetles. And they have their preferences; that is, they generally leave newer books alone. If unchecked, they start their voracious dining on the spines of older books, moving on to feast on the pages. The sad result leaves books riddled with small holes and badly frayed covers and edges.
Pinkas Kehillat Frankfurt am Main before conservation efforts at the National Library of Israel. (photo from National Library of Israel)
The repair work carried out in Elper’s department is, in a number of ways, similar to work done in hospitals. As in a medical facility, staff members must be highly trained in a number of fields. In the case of the library, we are talking about knowledge of fibres and textiles, entomology, chemistry, etc. To avoid contagion, sanitation is constantly checked: the library, for instance, closes during Passover and Sukkot in order to carry out fumigation of the entire facility. Tests are routinely carried out for fungal and insect damage. Temperature and humidity are monitored. Special care is taken to avoid stacking books too tightly, as this could endanger their physical stability when removed from their shelves. Attention is also paid to lighting (and not just sunlight), as improper or excessive lighting likewise harms books.
As for surgical procedures, library staff members carefully choose the materials for the restoration process, so that the book will accept, rather than reject, the repairs. The staff has to match the materials composing the old texts, be they parchment, animal skin or paper. However, no staff person is engaged as a scribe, as the department does not deal with restoring the text, no matter how faded or distorted it may be.
Along the way, the staff learns a lot about the old books. They learn about the community from which a text originated. They learn about the building of a book and what might have been involved in producing it. They explore questions that deal with the book’s content, as well as its cover. Was the book covered immediately or later in its life? Was the cover added where the book was written or was it put on in another country? And, if it was added in another country, what does this tell us about cooperation between historic Jewish communities?
Sometimes, to complete the restoration process and return the book for use, the staff employs specially developed machines, such as the Leafcaster, a machine that was developed by the department’s first director, Esther Alkalai. The Leafcaster helps strengthen a page by adding pulp to it.
Once the restoration is complete, the materials are available for study or for exhibition. To a degree, this action puts the texts at risk for contamination or physical damage. Thus, when the National Library loans rare items for temporary display, the restoration and conservation lab goes into full swing with a complicated process of ensuring the articles travel safely. The condition of the items is meticulously inventoried before they leave the library and when they are returned. In addition, a staff person from the lab accompanies the items in order to review the state of the pieces with the receiving institution and to help make sure that the loaned materials are being shown in a way that will not cause harm. When the exhibit closes, a staff person returns to the hosting facility to safely bring the valuable books and manuscripts back to the library. The library also makes special security and customs arrangements. An agreement is signed stating that the loaned articles will all be returned to Israel.
Pinkas Kehillat Frankfurt am Main after conservation efforts at the National Library of Israel. (photo from National Library of Israel)
The restoration process is expensive, and the waiting list for repairing these treasures is in the thousands. While there are donors willing to underwrite the cost of digitizing archival material, few people are willing to contribute to the cost of the restoration.
Elper would love to have people adopt archival material, so that it could undergo restoration at the National Library of Israel. Such a program, she said, has been instituted at the British Library and other institutions. Reportedly, at the British Library, the funds raised through its Adopt a Book program have supported the conservation of thousands of items – books, manuscripts, maps, photographs, stamps and works of art on paper. The possibilities are numerous; one of Elper’s suggestions is to approach different ethnic communities or individuals to adopt or sponsor the repairs needed on an article from their community of origin.
Asked what was the library’s most difficult project to date, Elper said all projects have their challenges. While difficult was not her choice of word, she admitted that preparing for the arrival of a large external (out-of-the-library) archival collection required painstaking attention to removing any known contaminants and, stage-by-stage, safely transporting these acquisitions to the National Library’s archives.
Among the most satisfying projects for the team, Elper said when asked, was the preparation for the recent exhibit at New York University’s Institute for the Study of the Ancient World, called Romance and Reason: Islamic Transformations of the Classical Past. The library lent the institute exquisitely scripted and illustrated manuscripts dealing with the story of Alexander the Great.
The repair of items (donated and purchased) creates a living testimony of history. It is the hope of the National Library of Israel that these rare and cherished books will receive even more attention when the library moves to its new facility in 2020.
As a closing note: if you have old books you love, keep them away from direct light and, to protect them from dust and other grime, store them in archival-quality, acid-free envelopes. Don’t do as yours truly had been doing, keeping them in various Ziploc bags. In closed plastic bags, the books have limited ability to breathe.
Deborah Rubin Fieldsis an Israel-based features writer. She is also the author of Take a Peek Inside: A Child’s Guide to Radiology Exams, published in English, Hebrew and Arabic.
