Kids’ stuff in Holon

"I love the toys but I am happy to share my love with other people," Wasserman says.

By BARRY DAVIS
This colorful wagon is on display in the Hana Hertsman-curated exhibition. (photo credit: REUTERS)
This colorful wagon is on display in the Hana Hertsman-curated exhibition.
(photo credit: REUTERS)
Many of us have a hankering for our early years, that halcyon time when innocence ruled and our responsibilities were easily definable – as challenging as they may have seemed at the time.
Akiva Wasserman happily admits to hanging on to his childhood days, even well into his seventies.
Wasserman is currently displaying some items from his generously proportioned toy collection as part of the The Toy Visit array of olden-times toys and children’s games on show at the Beit Meirov Gallery in Holon. The exhibition, which is curated by Hana Hertsman, forms part of this year’s Israeli Design Season, which is dedicated to the memory of children’s play facility designer and toymaker Beni Rosen, who died last December.
In would be something of an exaggeration to say that Wasserman’s Tivon home is one jolly pile of toys, but not that much of one. There’s a large glass-fronted cabinet in the dining area that is crammed to bursting with all manner of fun figures, made of a variety of materials, although Wasserman has a predilection for organic substances.
Upstairs another is fairly bursting at the seams, and there is an abundance of eye-catching dolls, puppets, cars, robots and all manner of playthings dotted about the place, on shelves, on chairs and tables, and practically every surface around. And there’s more in the ground-floor bomb shelter.
While there is the odd item that would be familiar to anyone who grew up in the Seventies or even the Eighties, and even more contemporary creations, most of the Wasserman collection appears to hark back to an earlier day, a time when tactile dexterity was more prevalent than in this hi-tech-assisted era.
When I remarked that I was impressed with the more up-to-date items in his toy spread, Wasserman quickly scotched any idea of his focusing more on the here and now. “I’m actually getting rid of the newer stuff. I prefer toys made of wood and clay,” he says, adding that, despite some of the pristine-looking dolls and other artisan products he happily hoards, he has never been enamored with perfection. “I like to see the mistakes that the toymaker made, and the signs of how they went about solving various mechanical and other problems. I think that adds to the charm.”
It all started for Wasserman almost 60 years ago, when he was faced with a tough decision. Armed with the princely sum of two and a half lirot – for those of you who are too young to recall, or haven’t been in Israel long enough, the lira was the national currency here until 1980 – the 15-year-old Wasserman set off for Acre from his home on Kibbutz Afek not far from Haifa’s bayside suburbs.
“I had always collected junk, all kinds of things,” he recalls. “I went to Acre to see a movie.” But the young man’s entertainment plans were prematurely derailed when he espied a fetching old copper model car. “I just had to have it,” he says. So the movie went out of the window, and Wasserman also got in some unplanned exercise. “After I bought the toy I didn’t have any money for the cinema, or for the bus home. So I walked the 8 km. back to the kibbutz.”
In those days, when socialism was the order of the day, particularly in the kibbutz sector, splashing out on a toy instead of using the precious cash for its intended designation may have been considered a heinous capitalist crime. But Wasserman says the unscheduled and unpremeditated change in his Acre schedule did not earn him a reprimand. “I told my parents about it, and that’s when they realized I had a passion for collecting things, and especially toys.”
Over the years Wasserman has cast his collector’s net further and further afield, both in generic and geographical terms. He and his wife have traveled extensively, and even lived abroad for extended periods of time.
The septuagenarian is something of a proverbial Renaissance man. He studied graphic and industrial design at the Bezalel Academy of Art in Jerusalem, is a well-known painter and also put his youth-leader past to good use by working for the Joint Distribution Committee, principally with descendants of Marranos in Portugal.
To this end, he was based in Paris for nine years and also lived in London, close to Camden Market, where he picked up all kinds of old tidbits. “You have to bide your time with stall owners in Camden,” notes Wasserman.
“If you’re the first or second to try to knock down the price of something old you won’t get any joy, but if you’re the third you’ll probably end up getting a bargain. By that time the stall owner just wants to get rid of the item.”
During his time in Paris, Wasserman upped his collecting ante, and his knowledge in the field. “They have an annual antique toy fair at the Grand Palais, called Toymania,” he says. “There are thousands of enthusiasts who go there every year, and that’s when I realized I wasn’t the only one who was bitten by the toy bug.
I learned a lot there.”
Wasserman does not just make do with amassing offloaded playthings; he also puts his nimble fingers and DNA to good use. “I am the sixth generation of carpenters in my family. We originate from Ukraine. Here’s a tractor I am building,” he says, proudly proffering a delightful wooden model that clearly indicates attention to detail.
“I build and repair and also sell toys. I really like it when someone comes over and says ‘Wow! That’s handmade, I want to buy it.’ I really like it when someone appreciates my work, or the work of any real artist. I really put my heart and soul into the toys I build and repair.”
Emotional input notwithstanding, Wasserman manages to let go too. “Yes, I am happy to allow other people to enjoy these things,” he says. “I love the toys but I am happy to share my love with other people.”
More than anything, Wasserman connects with the human aspect of it all. “I am not into train sets, or cars.
Over the years I oriented myself to toys innocently made by children, or something made by a grandfather for his grandchildren.”
Wasserman also pertains to the latter category and has made wooden puppets for all his 11 grandkids. He also takes personal preferences and religious leanings into account. “My son is haredi [ultra- Orthodox], so I made a puppet of a hassid for one of his children,” he says.
The personal touch is evident throughout Wasserman’s collection.
“Here, look at this,” he says excitedly, gently picking up cherubic-looking doll with flaxen hair. “This is an old German doll. And what about this?” – this time he reaches out for a delicate threepiece miniature brown felt furniture set of two chairs and a table. “This stuff is priceless.”
Curator Hertsman certainly goes along with that sentiment. “In the digital world there are so many computer applications for children, including from a very early age, and I wanted to explore the toys and games of the past, when children played with each other, had contests and played with real, physical things,” she says.
She naturally gravitated towards Rosen and he opened up a whole world of playthings of yesteryear for her. “Beni died last year and I continued investigating the field.”
Hertsman’s antique toy odyssey took her to the Treasures in the Walls ethnographic museum in Acre – where Wasserman’s own toy trip began all those years ago – and around the country to take a peek at collectors’ play gems. “It really is an enchanted world,” she says, “which I think people of all ages can enjoy. Playing with toys is a timeless activity.”
The Toy Visit exhibition takes in an eclectic range of artifacts, from playing cards to musical instruments, handcrafted horses and carts, and miniature kitchens.
Hertsman also hopes the exhibition spreads a didactic message too. “We used simple means to create a whole world.
We played with toys, played roles, forged relationships, shared things, and developed and experienced things in miniature, which, for us, was a kind of preparation for the real world,” she notes.
“As [Italian educator] Maria Montessori once said: ‘Playing is the children’s way to learn what they are not taught.’”
The Toy Visit exhibition closes on May 30. For more information: (03) 651-6851.