Great photographers' project of Behadrey Haredim: Pictures of the Year

Violence, wherever it is, is unacceptable in my eyes even when it is aimed at an empty space, and I see the harm in the violent person who harms himself, even if the biggest crime is harming another. Violence is physical or verbal, towards a person, an animal and even property. Aggression or vengeance should never be expressed by violence. This picture, although initiated, will at least remind me, where one can deteriorate if one doesn't watch out, if one forgets tolerance for a moment.


A small country exists in the Middle East, named Israel. Its residents sometimes forget that they are just another element in an unfathomably large cosmos. The residents are divided and segregated, each one in his land and each tribe in its territory, until they noticed that they are sitting on the world map like all other human beings. The rest of the story will be written by those settlers on the pages of history which will come. My lens engraved in my memory another moment in which one other person probably understood that he is first and foremost another particle in the universe which needs him like anyone else.


I stood there, like many others, and my mind couldn't hold the sight, the yellow badge about which I heard throughout the years. The feeling of persecution, a life of fear in the shadow of the turning sword. That badge is now daring in front of my wide open eyes, as if protesting out loud: "Nazis", and then when the finger types on its own, I explained to myself: Those children too only heard about the badge and the accompanying symptoms, maybe they can also feel that the other side is protesting especially against them. I had a friend about a decade ago, who used to often say a blessing: that there should be peace in the world. I asked him more than once if he believes in peace with out enemies, and he would answer – I didn't say a blessing regarding politics, I hope and pray that there will be peace in the entire world, between man and his fellow, man and his neighbor, between one country and its neighboring country and between nations, life will be filled with tranquility and calm will be spread over all human beings. This is the blessing which came to mind when the Israeli President sent off pure white pigeons from Kibbutz Yad Mordechai towards our neighbors.


One nation and one Torah, one army and one state, this is what we have. Masses can battle it out in the streets of the city, but the individual in his home is the one who will determine the agenda of society. Thousands in the street and laws in plenums will not bring balance to society, neither will they bring a solution to the question.
The individual in his home learns things, internalizes them and acts accordingly. He and the like of him will bridge the gaps. Our nation will contain those who sit and learn as well as fighters, for this is the necessary balance in the nation which resides in Zion; the paved way will not be captured by the feet of thousands who cry out, but by loving individuals.


I learned an instructive lesson, from the stretching of the animal's skin and its drying through the ma'abarta and titura to the vein which travels between the batim shel rosh and hair of the calf which shows through to the side of the third "bayit". No electrical machines and no hydraulic means, each action is done while declaring "Leshem Mitzva". Stage after stage in an artistic creation, a process which clarifies that this is not Mitzvas Anashim Melumada, but Torah.


Wishing you a Shana Tova, Nati Shochat and Yossi Zamir, Miriam Alster and Yonatan Zindel, Lior Mizrahi and Moshe Shai – Flash 90

Hello, do you still remember me? I know that time constraints prevent me from devoting myself to you, but I take the camera with me everywhere. I was sent a few times this year on behalf of the Kol Hai Radio to external broadcasts, it was on the 27th of Adar when I was sent to the levaya of Hagrc"p Sheinberg, Rosh Yeshivas Torah Ohr. From my place of standing, I looked at the crowd of thousands who came to escort one of the central pillars of the Torah world on his last way. For minutes I stood pent in thought about the sight, then I shrugged it off and said to myself, "Every Jew has to see this, the real longing is for those who toil in Torah".


A year has passed since I told you here that I hope to realize a dream and photograph in Antarctica, I am sure that when you read these things you wished me "May Hashem fulfill…". I found favor in Hashem's eyes and found myself in a delegation which travelled to the Northern Pole for a few days. We reached this point from which we could not continue, and turned back. A picture that the more I look at over and over again, reminds me of the stretched expanses and a sort of roar bursts out of me, "Ma Rabu Ma'aseicha". Since I managed to fulfill this dream, I am awaiting to fulfill the next dream: Singapore, Alaska and Taiwan.


There is a supreme power in the holy Torah which is heartening - how moved was everyone to hear a crowd of thousands happily dancing at the Mitzva of Siyum Hashas. This was not the first time on which I was invited to Jewish communities overseas, but it was the first time I stood in such a huge crowd which was estimated at 100,000 people who did not come to protest or to defend themselves, they came like an individual entity to say: "Hadran Alach Maseches Uktzin veSeder Taharos veShisha Sdarim". Personally, the event reminded me of the Gemora "Hamlichuni Aleichem kedei she'yaale zichronchem lefanai" (proclaim Me as King, so that your memory should rise before Me).


Even the coarser ones among us find it hard to fathom such a terrible tragedy. They celebrated a Hachnasas Sefer Torah of the grandfather in Migdal Haemek, and on their return home their car deviated from the road and the eight members of one family were killed in one go. According to the request of the family, the journey of the levaya and burial was not documented, and I was left standing there with the crowds who refused to part from the family of Chessed who formed the branch of "Yad Ezra veShulamit" in Tiberias. I stood there in front of the row of close graves, and I concluded: "Mipnei Hara'a Ne'esaf Hatzadik" (because of the misfortune, the Tzadik was taken).


"The Orphans of Wine" I called them. Purim 5772, the Beis Midrash of Toldos Avrohom Yitzchok in Beit Shemesh, the child sits next to his father who got drunk according the spirit of the day. The child, who is not used to such sights, transmits a bit of sadness and confusion through his eyes, a few more years will pass before he will be able to understand what he saw. Hopefully, he will remember to explain to his own children at their young age, even before their eyes will be covered with a feeling of helplessness.

This picture, from the levaya of the victims of Toulouse, I think depict the year of "Palgei Mayim Yardu Einai". About roses who were taken from us, flowers which were picked from us – and are no longer. Kosher Jews who were suddenly snatched. Look at their picture. Look into their eyes. See their tears. Observe their sadness. They are the embodiment of grief, pain and sorrow. The sorrow of Galus, a prolonged exile, which is still here with us. "Emor Letzaruseinu Dai".

One especially dark night the wick of life of a whole family was taken, family Atias.
I was there when the only survivor of the accident, the little girl Rachel, came to be blessed and consoled by Maran Hagaon Harav Ovadia Yosef shlit"a. It was moving to see how Gadol Hador shared the pain of a little girl who was left alone in the world. He comforted and gave her strength. Tears wet my eyes, but I forced to continue my work. This scene will not be forgotten by me for a long time.


The cellular phone trembled: Saying of Viduy now/ the members of family are around the bed/Shema Yisraelll…" Nitzchu Erelim Es Hametzukim, I was left very far from the eighth floor of the Shaarei Tzedek Hospital. I arrived at the journey of the levaya, disappointed, but also bearing the pain of all Jewry on the loss of Hagry"s Eliashiv. I crowded together with hundreds of thousands of escorts, and waited like a hunter for a picture which will express something of the power of the huge crowd which came to escort Hagry"s Eliashiv to his last rest. From one moment to the other, the awareness struck me that there are many other lenses like mine in the crowd. I left my place, and started stepping on the planned route of the levaya. I looked, but all the roofs were burdened to the point of bursting with escorts and photographers. Until I reached Yirmiyahu street towards the entrance to Jerusalem, the place was empty of people. I went onto a new building, which is in the stages of being built and is overlooking the intersection. On the fourth floor I opened a window and prepared the camera to take photographs.

A written message clarified that the bed is advancing about 50 meters an hour. I lay on a make-shift mattress of cardboard. There was a son of a good friend of mine with me, who soon joined the experience of waiting. I was convinced that I will be woken by the noise of the myriads.

An hour and a half passed in waiting, and suddenly a message arrived: the bed disappeared at the intersection of 'Apirion' – Bar Ilan, they don't know where it was taken to. I looked at the screen and wondered silently if it was still decreed on me to miss a successful picture, I said to myself "I'll wait here, for sure there are tens who don't know where the bed is, and will arrive here, I'll take a picture of that at least".

Forty minutes passed, and the beeping of motorbikes and sirens of an ambulance made me jump to the window. On Yirmiyahu street, stood a single ambulance accompanied by six motorbikes, and around it about a hundred people. While I was wondering, I "absorbed" a Yeshiva bochur who hung on to the back door of the ambulance with the last of his strengths, not letting go of it for a moment.
"This is the deathbed inside," I realized, "but where are all the escorts?" a painful thought went through my mind.

I started taking photographs, and wondering painfully to myself, Hagry"s Eliashiv is taken to be buried, an hour and a half after midnight, and only about a hundred escorts are around him. I didn't have much time to think, the ambulance galloped at a mad speed, didn't stop for a second, eight pictures which I managed to take, and it already crossed the intersection and started turning right towards the road at the entrance to the city, to Har Hamenuchos.

For me, this is the picture of the year, of the moment, and of reality. Because as a journalism photographer, I don't try to bring the most artistic picture, not even the most beautiful picture, rather my role is to bring a picture which will document what happened at real time from a unique angle of my own. The picture which will express what really happened here, like it really was.


I'm sure my friends sent pictures from different central events, I would like to remember especially a moment of "nachas", a break in the rush of life, the routine of the universe and the load of events. A simple daily moment in the world of young infants who have not tasted sin. A day of joy when their Rebbe came to town, dressed in their best clothes and in their best spirits about a day of vacation which landed on them.



Once in seven and a half years it happens: Siyum Hashas. This year I had the privilege to take part, and to eternalize at a few centers in which the Siyum Hashas was celebrated. The most moving part was when I drifted above, looking at a stadium which is used to the Greek and Roman culture, now filled to capacity with Jews who came to honor their brothers who toil in Torah.


The Jewish kingdom for me is the halls of Torah and Chassidus, both when the voice of Torah and Tefilla resonates between their walls, and when their leaderss gather. The picture which I chose to present as a memory of the past year, is from the great Simcha in the holy chassidus of Belz, when the first grandson of the Rebbe got engaged, in good Mazal.

Over the last few years, I got used to see through the lens of a camera. As a resident of Tzfat – I find myself often strolling in its narrow streets to fill up with tranquility, or on its periphery to fill my lungs with mountain air. It was just another day of the week, when my eye caught the child sitting and praying in front of his Father in Heaven. "The world exists only in the merit of the steam of their mouths…"


I have photographed many times in my life, and there are a countless number of photographs in my archive, when each one has a memory of its own. The memory which accompanies this photograph is one which came afterwards. I was called to the home of Posek Hador, Hagry"s Eliashiv zt"l to take photographs, it was a few days before he fell ill and was rushed to hospital which, to our dismay, he never left.

'בחדרי' גם ברשתות החברתיות - הצטרפו!