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The Spielberg Jewish Film Archive – Henrietta Szold
Name: Henrietta Szold
Abstract: A tribute to the founder of Hadassah.
The Spielberg Jewish Film Archive –
The 500 films, selected for the virtual cinema, reflect the vast scope of documentary material collected in the Spielberg Archive. The films range from 1911 to the present and include home movies, short films and full length features.
שם: הנרייאטה סולד
תקציר: סרט הוקרה על הנרייטה סולד, המייסדת ארגון הדסה.
ארכיון הסרטים היהודיים על שם סטיבן שפילברג –
חמש מאות הסרטים שנבחרו עבור הקולנוע הווירטואלי משקפים את ההיקף הנרחב של החומר התיעודי בארכיון שפילברג. באתר ישנם סרטים משנת 1911 ועד ימינו אלה ביתיים, קצרים ובאורך מלא.
|The upcoming Jerusalem International Book Fair will take place February 2015.
הרמב”ם – רבי משה בן מימון / Maimonides – Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon
ערוץ הידברות בשיתוף קרן דסטני מגישים לכם ולילדכם סרט אנימציה מיוחד על חייו ופעלו של הרמב”ם לרגל יום פטירתו.
belief,ethics,faith,judaism,maimonides,rabbi moshe ben maimon,religion,spiritual,spirituality,the great eagle,torah,אמונה,הנשר הגדול,הרמבם,יהדות,מוסר,קודש,קודש להשם,רבי משה בן מימון,רוחני,רוחניות,תורה
The Brilliant Career of Maimonides
A lecture by Dr. Benjamin Gampel, the Eli and Dinah Field Professor of Jewish History at the Jewish Theological Seminary
Dr. Gampel gave the keynote address at the Jewish University for a Day event in Minneapolis, conducted by the Institute for Jewish Learning of JTS, in cooperation with the Minnesota Context Partnership and the Center for Jewish Studies.
Yiddish Culture Was Their Religion: Founders Of The Montreal Jewish Public Library
Eva Raby – former director of the Montreal Jewish Public Library – describes the origins of Montreal’s Jewish Public Library, “biblyotek un folks universitet”, and how Yiddish culture was like a religion for secular families like hers.
To learn more about the Wexler Oral History Project, visit: http://www.yiddishbookcenter.org/tell.
Mendy Pellin Comedy
via http://mendypellin.com | Join Mendy Pellin on 4/9 for non-stop laughter at the Millennium Theater in Brooklyn for The Shalom Bayis Tour.
Jewish Community Cookbooks
March 5, 2014
Dr. Megan Elias, Associate Professor, Department of History, Queensborough Community College
Although there were a few very well-known cookbooks for Jewish families published before the Second World War in America, the post-war period saw a tremendous increase in the numbers of this genre. In particular, Jewish groups all over America published community cookbooks, usually for the purpose of fundraising. These books represent a new pride in identity which was intimately tied to the very public nature of Jewish suffering during the Holocaust. Working with the important collection of Jewish Community Cookbooks at the Dorot Division of the New York Public Library, this project seeks to put these cookbooks into the context of post-war American culture and an emerging sense of global citizenship.
Felix Livshitz Mamele jewish yiddish song
Felix Livshitz Mamile jewish yiddish song
Jewish Festival Krakow
Cantor Benzion Miller & All Stars Orchestra @ Jewish Culture Festival in Krakow, 2012
Cantor Benzion Miller performing in Krakow with All Stars Festival Orchestra during Shalom on Szeroka Street (22nd Jewish Culture Festival in Krakow) – filmed by the Polish Television TVP2, supported by NInA – National Audiovisual Institute
Boom Pam & Kutiman at 23rd Jewish Culture Festival
Boom Pam & Kutiman
23rd Jewish Culture Festival
Szeroka Street, Krakow, Poland
July 7, 2013
Setlist thanks to Uri
2. Delilah Jones
3. Cicek Dagi
3. Hatul VeHatula
5. Daber Yafe
6. Boom Pam
Collective Action: Lessons from the Labor Movement
What is the meaning of work? What conditions cause workers to suffer and what inspires them to take action to improve their lives? What can Jewish history teach us about contemporary labor issues and our responsibility towards workers around the world? Watch interactive activities and see an experienced facilitator model investigations of several historical artifacts you can put to use in your classroom.
Yehuda Mizrahi channel
Sholem Aleichem in America
Though Sholem Aleichem is widely known for his depictions of shtetl life, the famed Yiddish writer spent a number of years living and writing in America. In a new documentary titled “Sholem Aleichem: Laughing in the Darkness,” director Joseph Dorman details the life of Sholem Aleichem, from his early successes to his many, painful failures. The Forward met with Dorman on the Lower East Side to discuss the difficult, but fruitful years Sholem Aleichem spent living in America.
Learn Hebrew Curso de Hebraico
22.01.2009 Jacob Richman
A Richer Knowledge of Being Jewish Through Yiddish
Sara Israel, former Yiddish Book Center fellow, reflects on the importance of Yiddish in her Jewish identity, remembering how she related much more to Yiddish than to her Hebrew school studies.
To learn more about the Wexler Oral History Project, visit:http://www.yiddishbookcenter.org/tell…
Jewish Culture Movie for NU204
Written and Narrated by Svetlana, produced by John M.
This is a general description of the Jewish culture.
Several Jewish songs were used as the soundtrack.
The remake of “Hava Nagila” that plays at the end was performed by John M.
All images were found on various web sites using “Google Images.” I have no rights over any of this material. This was made for a short-term, educational experience. There will be no sale of, or profit derived from this work.
Radical Jewish Culture (exhibition in the Jewish Museum Berlin)
Impressions of the exhibition “Radical Jewish Culture – the music scene in New York since 1990” from 08.04.2011 to 24.07.2011 at the Jewish Museum Berlin… read more in German:
Impressionen der Ausstellung” Radical Jewish Culture – Musikszene New York seit 1990″ vom 08.04.2011 bis 24.07.2011 im Jüdischen Museum Berlin.
Die Kristallnacht als Suite in sechs Sätzen: Ab 1992 spielten New Yorker Avantgardisten radikal neue jüdische Musik. Das Jüdische Museum widmet der Bewegung nun eine klangvolle Ausstellung.
Einen ausführlichen Bericht finden Sie bei “Kunst+Film”:
Being Jewish in the New Germany
January 29, 2006 | At this event, Jeffrey Peck argued that we must now begin considering how Jews live in Germany rather than merely asking why they would choose to do so. Germany today boasts the fastest growing population of Jews in Europe. The streets of Berlin abound with signs of a revival of Jewish culture, ranging from bagel shops to the sight of worshipers leaving synagogue on Saturday. This revival is spurred by the new energy infused by Jewish immigration from Russia and changes in immigration and naturalization laws in general. This event was cosponsored by Georgetown University’s Program for Jewish Civilization.
Jeffrey Peck is a professor of Comparative Literature, dean of the Weissman School, and vice provost for global strategies at Baruch College, as well as a Senior Fellow at the American Institute for Contemporary German Studies. He previously was a professor in the Communication, Culture and Technology Program at Georgetown University; he has also held positions at Humboldt University in Berlin, the Canadian Centre for German and European Studies, and the University of Washington. His research focuses on questions of national and minority identities, particularly German-Jewish life since unification and contemporary responses to the Holocaust in a transatlantic context. His most recent books include Being Jewish in the New Germany (2006) and Multiculturalism in Transit: A German-American Exchange (1998, edited with Klaus Milich). Peck received a Fulbright Scholar grant during the 2006-2007 academic year. He received his M.A. from the University of Chicago and his Ph.D. from the University of California, Berkeley.
Jewish Life – Yiddish Show
In this Jewish Life Show, we interviewed Arthur Schwartz (head of the SB Yiddish Club,) heard a Yiddish song by Lorraine Klein, and saw a Yiddish Play based on a famous Jewish Story. Join us for a Yiddish Night!
Thomashefskys Yiddish Theatre
Zalmen Mlotek Judy Blazer discuss Yiddish musical theatre giants Boris and Bessie Thomashefsky, along with a concert in their memory (and honoring National Yiddish Theatre-Folksbiene) created by their grandson, renowned conductor Michael Tilson Thomas.
A Field Course on Jews in Eastern Europe
Sophia Oklhova – 2012 Steiner Summer Program student – reflects on her experiences in a class that traveled to Europe to study not only Jewish history, but also contemporary Jewish culture.
To learn more about the Wexler Oral History Project, visit: http://www.yiddishbookcenter.org/tell…
Dr.Henry Abramson The Holocaust Essential Lectures in Jewish History by Dr. Henry Abramson
FOR FRIDAY NIGHT: The Concept of Freedom (Behar)
CHASSIDIC DIMENSION: Sinai, Mount Sinai, and “Behar” (Behar)
The Torah portion of Behar begins with the statement:1 “G-d spoke to Moshe at Mount Sinai….” The Hebrew word for “on the mount” is behar, giving rise to the accepted title of this portion. Why was the title “Behar” chosen, without even stating that the mountain was Sinai?
The words “mount” and “Sinai” have opposite connotations. A mountain implies loftiness and height. In a spiritual sense, this means that at times a Jew is to act in a bold, forceful and expansive manner — “His heart was expansive in the ways of the L-rd.”2
The word Sinai , on the other hand — without speaking of a mountain — is rooted in the Hebrew word s’neh,3 or thorn-bush, and thus denotes humility and self-nullification.
In the context of a Jew’s spiritual service, there are three levels: a) the level of Sinai — humility and self-nullification; b) the level of Mount Sinai — a combination of expansiveness and humility; and c) behar — the level of expansiveness. It is this final level that a person is to aspire to, and for which the Torah portion is named.
This will be better understood by considering a person who acts as another’s agent, emissary and messenger, and contrasting this with a wholly devoted servant.
a) The person empowers and authorizes his agent to act in his stead. In this instance, the action itself is accorded to the agent.
b) Even the action is seen as being done by the person himself, albeit through the vehicle of an emissary;
c) Not only are the actions considered to have been done by the person himself, but the emissary and agent become one at the time the mission is fulfilled.
Still, even with regard to the highest form of emissary, the agent still exists as an entity unto himself. This is why the phrase “One’s emissary is like the person himself” applies only to those matters that directly relate to the agent’s fulfillment of his mission.6
This is not so with regard to one’s servant. A servant is not an entity unto himself; his whole being is that of his master. It is for this reason that “whatever is acquired by the servant is acquired by his master.”7
All the above also applies to the levels of Sinai, Mount Sinai, and behar:
At the very outset of man’s spiritual service, when a person exists as an entity unto himself, he must act in complete humility and self-nullification — Sinai. At this stage, broadness and expansiveness have no place, for it would be emanating from his own ego, rather than from G-dliness and holiness.
This level of Sinai is similar to the first kind of emissary; the messenger is an entity unto himself; he merely negates himself and acts on behalf of the person who sent him.
A higher level of service is that of “Mount Sinai.” At this stage, a person may already feel some of the height and expansiveness of a “mountain.” This is because at this stage of his spiritual development, the person has so negated himself that the expansiveness is not an outgrowth of his own ego, but an expression of holiness.
Nevertheless, here too a person must possess the self-nullification of Sinai, for nullification has yet to wholly permeate him.
This is similar to the higher forms of emissary, wherein the agent gives over his power of action, or indeed his very being, to the one who sent him. Nevertheless, in this stage as well, there is still a difference between the emissary and the person who sent him.
The loftiest manner of service is that of behar — the person is so entirely negated to G-dliness that it is not even necessary to remind him of “Sinai” — there exists nothing for him other than G-d, just as the entire being of a servant is that of his master.
Based on Likkutei Sichos, Vol. XXII, pp. 159-163.
ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS: Expression, Connection and Union: The threefold identity of the Jew (Chapter 3)
Iyar 7, 5774 * May 7, 2014
COMMENT: Because It Is There
According to Encyclopaedia Britannica, the sport of mountain-climbing was born in 1760, when a young Genevan scientist, Horace-Bénédict de Saussure, offered prize money for the first person or persons to reach the summit of Mount Blanc, Europe’s tallest peak at 15,777 feet.
I suspect that it’s been going on for much longer than that. Something tells me that for as long as there have been humans and mountains, humans have been climbing mountains. Not just for some “useful” purpose, but also for sport, for the challenge it poses, for no other reason—as one famous mountaineer put it—than “because it is there.” Or rather, because we arehere, down below, and we want to be someplace higher than here.
Consider the case of Moses. Granted, Mount Sinai was no Everest. Remember, however, that Moses was 80 years old at the time. Remember, also, that he was doing it on behalf of 600,000 people. (600,000 Jews, that is, which means that he had to contend with 600,000 opinions on which route to take, what equipment to use, etc.; indeed, Moses had to build a fence around the mountain to hold them back from having a go at it themselves.)
Now, you might say that Moses’ climb wasn’t just for the challenge, but for a specific purpose: to receive the Torah. Yet G‑d was coming down from the heavens—an infinite number of light-years away. He certainly could have descended another few thousand feet, instead of making an octogenarian sage climb a mountainside. As, indeed, He could have programmed the Torah right into our brains, together with all the other stuff we’re born knowing, instead of chiseling it into two stone tablets for us to study and decipher.
But G‑d was telling us: Yes, you are so far down below, and I am so high up, that you’ll never get here on your own. The only way that there can be anything eternal, infinite or true in your lives is if I come down to you. But if I came all the way down, whatever I might give you will be meaningless to you—as meaningless to you as your own existence, to which you are oblivious because you were born into it and did not struggle to achieve it.
So, says G‑d, I am going to make these mountains. Mountains that will try your skills, that will consume every iota of your energy and determination. Mountains so high that they will require a superhuman effort on your part to attain their peaks.
And when you reach the summit, I’ll be there waiting for you.
VOICES: Life’s Little Reversals
I noticed first the striking red shawl wrapping her, identical to the one my husband had presented me from his trip to Russia. Almost simultaneously we exited our respective cabs; immediately my eyes were drawn to the shawl and my ears were drawn to the sound. Her voice was louder than the shawl, and it took a moment before I realized she was berating not me, but the man emerging from the cab after her: kak tzebye nye stidna? (Loosely: “aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” or “have you no shame?”) And because we had the same destination, the entire walk from the street to the Kotel (Western Wall) was to the sound of their arguing—Russian to Hebrew and back again. Speaking neither, and understanding very little of both, I could divine only that she cared about her son’s welfare and that she didn’t want to be here.
I turned right, to the ramp leading down to that holiest of places; they turned left . . .
It takes great effort to exit the emotional universe of the Western Wall, taking some steps backward and then at some point turning and walking forward, upward . . . how often we need to do that little reversal in our life. And now I see many clusters of soldiers, many individual soldiers, hurrying towards the north side of the plaza. Without realizing it was happening, I’m now in a crush of soldiers and, apparently, their families. And then the sound of trumpets and drums fills the entire space with the Israeli national anthem. Some ceremony must be taking place.
And then, there they were again—she of the red Russian shawl still berating the man dwarfing her. Still gesticulating, still voices raised. The plaza is filled with noise—usually a place so still, now there are the drums and trumpets, lots of people talking very loudly, a celebratory vibe in the air . . . and suddenly it goes still.
I’m looking now, not at swirls of soldiers, but at a neat, orderly block of perhaps a hundred boys in uniform. Some with kippot; I notice tzitzit among the crowd. All stand quietly and respectfully. Mindful of the time, however, I hurry up the many stairs to the Jewish Quarter, where I’m to meet a friend, but halfway up I’m compelled to stop and watch them. Sounds waft up . . . speeches . . . and it’s clear that this is the swearing-in ceremony concluding basic training for these boys. I was across the ocean when my own son received his beret and Bible; I can’t bring myself to leave now.
And as my eyes mist over with tears, I’m assaulted again by her loud voice. Here, on this landing above the Kotel’s plaza, I’ve not escaped them, and they are ascending the stairs towards me. Stopping beside me, seeing what I’m seeing, she is quiet. There they stand, and they are quiet. And then, as only happens in Israel, she turns to me and, as if we’d been childhood friends, begins to pour out her heart.
It’s her son down there.
Against her express wishes, he’d enlisted six months ago.
And here her husband stands proudly watching—how can he be so callous? And I hear her story; she’s crying freely and wiping her tears with the edge of her shawl. For a week, day and night, I’d been in the embrace of its identical twin as it shielded and warmed me. Her hand holds its edge, and she tells me of her father killed in action while defending his country, of her mother left a young widow. She describes the terror of her siblings as their sons went into battle, and her resolute stance that her son would do anything to avoid his army service. And then, his betrayal! And, more than that, her husband’s complicity—he’d signed the papers! And now he drags her here, to this ceremony?!
She is angry. She feels betrayed. She is deeply frightened. And she’s adamant that she will not stay for the ceremony; he tricked her into coming, and she has nothing to say to her son! All of this in broken English, with Russian and Hebrew interspersed.
Her husband had gone off, and now he returns with two hot cups of tea and hands me one. “To warm your insides,” he tells me. His English, strongly accented, is impeccable as only one who learned it as a second language can speak. Russian-educated, he is a teacher of English literature in an Israeli high school. His wife refuses the cup, and hugs herself as she turns her back on the scene below. He stands next to me, leaning forward the better to see.
The fringes of the red shawl brush my shoulder, and the connection is there. And now I’m speaking to her as if we’d known each other forever. I find my voice pleading. I tell her that I would do anything to have been able to be here to see my son take his place as his name was called.
I tell her also of our own struggle, my husband’s discouragement of our own son’s desire to join the IDF. Nevertheless, my husband told my son the decision was his own. Discouraging him, but allowing him that freedom. On the very first day of basic training he called our son, showering upon him all the blessings a father can confer. Speaking of his pride in him. Encouraging him, blessing him, reminding him that this role he now assumed was a holy one.
And I’m crying as I tell her all of this. “Go down,” I tell her, “go back down to the plaza and be there to hug him and kiss him with great pride and joy.
“I know your fear,” I say, “but he needs your support and your confidence. And your pride in him. Don’t deprive him of that.”
I don’t know if she understands everything I say, but I believe that her heart must sense the words from my heart even if she doesn’t know them. But her husband understands. And now I see him move to her side and say, in a strong voice now, “Come.”
She’s quiet. Doesn’t move. Again he says, “Come,” and gives her a gentle tug. And suddenly she turns and embraces me tightly. The red Russian shawl envelopes me in her embrace . . . and they are gone. I watch them walk down the stairs; I don’t wait to see them greet her son.