HaMiffal is an oasis, albeit not exactly one of peace and quiet right now. That is due to the invasive, extraneous roar emanating from construction sites in downtown Jerusalem. Still, there is a definite tranquility vibe about the place – a feeling that positive energies abound, and that good things are in the offing.
“On that side, there’s the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, over there there’s some oligarch who’s building a new house and, on that side, they are building a visitors’ center for the Third Temple,” Doron Gallia-Kind advises as we sit down to chat on the upper floor of the timeworn stately edifice that has been home to a veritable gem in the local cultural-social firmament for the past 10 years.
That last item sounded unreal. I was always given the impression that the Third Temple would materialize only after the Messiah comes riding in on a white mule. There really is no wilder, more variegated, more spiritual, or more colorful place like Jerusalem.
A whole decade of creative derring-do, on all sorts of fronts, is as good a pretext as any for sitting down with Gallia-Kind, who has served as artistic director and co-director of HaMiffal, alongside general director and head curator Neta Meisels, for the past two years.
That momentous juncture in the institution’s timeline was marked on August 13 with a typically broadly-roaming program that, inter alia, took in the dulcet tones of the Great Gehenna Choir, envelope-pushing ensemble project Castle in Time, and a reprise of Max Epstein’s Yeshivat Tzevet (Staff Meeting) sculpture he first created nine years ago and which – surprise surprise – depicted a session of the HaMiffal staff members who founded the nonprofit in 2015.
Yes, in 2015, so, in fact, yesterday’s shebang took place as HaMiffal continues on through its 11th year. But Gallia-Kind is not one to split temporal hairs. “We’re making a fuss of our 10 years of existence as a sort of rolling celebration,” he smiles. That sounds perfectly logical for an ever-evolving venture.
A cloistered world of quiet and art
There indeed appears to be a lot to celebrate and enjoy. You get some of that as soon as you pass through the wrought-iron gate on Hamaaravim Street, an easily missable narrow alleyway that leads off the nether regions of Agron Street. As you leave the constant din of traffic on the main artery behind, your pulse starts to slow a mite, and the tension level diminishes even further the moment you step into the dappled leafy confines of the HaMiffal yard. It is almost like entering some inner sanctum where the spirits stretch a protective wing across your shoulder, particularly as you hear, and then espy, the soothing sound of dripping water from the diminutive fountain by the pathway.
When I cycled over there, a week or so prior to the 10th birthday bash, the yard was populated by a motley array of people – folks hunched in front of a laptop screen, presumably working through the technical specifications of some artistic and/or community-oriented initiative, others smoked or tucked into an early lunch. Prior to my meet-up with Gallia-Kind and a couple of youngsters who put together the definitively heartwarming and person-friendly Crochet Club, I also grabbed a couple of mouthfuls while I soaked up the ambiance of the pool of calm slap bang in the epicenter of the aforementioned nonstop ongoing urban renewal dynamic.
The blurb for the new decade-opening event includes a fetching self-description as “the Jerusalemite home of creators celebrates 10 years of creation, ludicrousness and community.” It was the middle epithet that caught my eye. What, then, is so absurd and irrational about HaMiffal?"
For starters, the edifice is a bona fide member of the yesteryear stratum of Jerusalem’s evolution. You don’t find that too often in this real estate-fixated country where every square meter of land or of floor space of extant buildings costs the potential buyer or tenant a fortune. Naturally, that is particularly true of urban milieus.
A Jerusalem historical gem
A little historical backdrop would not go amiss here. HaMiffal resides in the Seraphin-Lorenzo House, a spectacular building constructed in the late 19th century by brothers Anton and Pascal Seraphin, who came from a well-heeled Jerusalemite Christian Arabic family. Over time, the house hosted a wide range of residents – from Arabs to Jewish educational institutions – and stood sentinel as the city underwent seismic political shifts. By 2006, the building was left derelict and was summarily consigned to the garbage heap of municipal goings-on until HaMiffal started up. Through research and preservation endeavors and artistic collaborations, the house became a lively cultural center, inviting anyone who entered its doors to mine and uncover the rich history and culture hidden within it.
Truly, there is plenty to unearth. As you open the sturdy main entrance door, you enter a veritable Aladdin’s Cave as you begin to discern the exquisite ornamentation on the walls and vaulted ceiling in the dimly lit hall. To the right lies a spacious room that, by the looks of things, serves as a place where people hang out, either to socialize or get some serious stuff done. There is a café-bar, a store where one can find all kinds of knickknacks of an artistic nature, as well as New Agey fare and plain old fun items. Peeking through a transparent door just past the gift shop, I spied a bunch of artists getting on with their innovative pursuits in the studio. It all came across as an alluring mix of earnest hands-on creative endeavor, discussions thereof, and Jerusalemites dropping by for a breather from the rat race.
“I think, for many people, this is a sort of home away from home,” says Gallia-Kind, neatly encapsulating the home base philosophical flux. For the people that come here, it is a third space, which isn’t your home or place of work.” The accent is, the director continues, very much on enabling and accommodating. “They can find themselves doing all sorts of things here. They can work on their computer and drink coffee, grab a bite, or they can visit the gallery or pop into the store to buy something.” Much of the latter is conceived and crafted in the studio space right next door.
Visitors may even find themselves getting down and dirty with some creative process or other, or come over for some entertainment. “They can take part in a course in the studio, or stay on to see a show in the evening. HaMiffal strives to embrace all the lifestyles of the liberal person in the city, or people who believe in freedom. They are looking for inspiration, but also a place or a space that feels like home.”
That laissez-passer sensibility is definitely in the air on the ground floor, although, in stark contrast, the upper level felt pretty desolate as we chatted. That is where the exhibitions run, and there are rooms for meetings, rehearsals, and other artistic groundwork, and offices. I was privy to a delightful slice of the Great Gehenna Choir going through its angelic paces ahead of the event on the 13th. The choice of vocal ensemble for the occasion was something of a given, considering the veteran choir also performed at the HaMiffal opener in 2015.
A close-knit crowd
The celebratory lineup also featured a bunch of folks clicking away with needle and thread as they took their crocheting enterprise along its way to some practical or fun bottom line. The slot was devised to wed Sorgot Et Hazman (Knitting the Time) with Moadon HaKrosheh (The Crochet Club). The former is an activist group of older women who vented some of their post-Oct. 7 anguish and frustration by convening to engage in a wholesome activity – which became highly visible and much talked about – while the war raged in Gaza, and our hostages continued to languish there. As we all painfully know, the hostilities and hostage release impasse dragged on and on, and the women ended up with several kilometers of various knitted creations. The confluence of the two groups covers an expansive age range, with Moadon HaKrosheh – established by twentysomethings Yarden Lichterman and Noam Hezroni – including participants in their teens all the way through to the over-70s crowd.
The diverse nature of the club extends beyond the age factor and the broad range of walks of life whence the knitters come. There is, apparently, a mass appeal side to the craft. “We get people from outside Jerusalem too,” Lichterman tells me. “They come from Kiryat Ono, Petah Tikva, Tel Aviv.” Tel Aviv? Surely there must be some kind of knitting circle in the metropolis. “I don’t think so,” Lichterman suggests, “at least not for free.”
The gratis element is integral to the club organizers’ credo. “One of the most important things about the club is that anyone can come. Anyone who wants to knit can come, and we don’t charge. There is no commitment to attend either,” Hezroni points out. “The sessions take place on Tuesday evenings, and no one knows who is going to turn up, or how many.” Attendance never drops below 15 knitters each time, sharing the space provided by HaMiffal. That can rise to 20-plus or even more. “We have around 200 people in the WhatsApp group, but it varies each time,” Lichterman explains.
Meeting on a regular basis to crochet is clearly a fundamentally socially oriented activity. “You can never know what people think about while they are knitting,” Lichterman observes. “It is, on the one hand, a very communicative activity, but it is also perfect for doing on your own. But there is also something about doing it on your own, alongside others. You focus on your work, but you can chat while you’re doing it and ask for help with your work.” That sounds an ideal state of affairs, suited to people of all societal leanings. As per Humphrey Bogart’s immortal words in the closing scene in Casablanca, as he and Claude Rains walk away from the airport runway, getting together to knit can bring people closer and can spawn new friendships.
“People sit around, next to each other or apart and knit,” Lichterman says. Fittings logistics also come into the social intercourse ebb-and-flow. “We’re not always sure what furniture we’ll have in the room,” Hezroni adds. “Once we had a big oval table, so everyone sat around together and interacted while they were knitting. Other times, there may be a couple of small tables and other chairs dotted around. That changes the way the session goes.”
Knitting debutants welcome
The activity is also open to folks who have never held a needle and yarn in their hand. “This is a community of amateurs. This is knowledge that is passed on from one person to another,” Lichterman notes. The organizers also keep the framework as loose and inviting as possible. “I tell people they don’t need to get notifications via Facebook, or WhatsApp, or whatever. They know there is a particular activity which happens at a particular place every Tuesday at 7 p.m. People can come just once, or as many times as they want.”
Knitting is, indeed, a time-honored craft practiced in communities across cultures the world over. I was happily surprised to hear there are quite a few menfolk who engage in crocheting. “There is a man from Petah Tikva who had never knitted before. He made an amazing tunic for himself,” Hezroni smiles. When I subsequently met up with Gallia-Kind, he corroborated the story and showed me a photo of the determined character, clad in his creation. It was mightily impressive and, I must admit, got me thinking about turning up at HaMiffal on a Tuesday evening myself. In any case, it has to be healthier and more rewarding – physically and emotionally – and more fruitful than, for example, spending an hour or two disappearing down YouTube rabbit holes.
The knitters also produce all manner of end products, from clothes for grandkids, kippot, toys, and even the results of yarn bombing that brighten up otherwise dull standard street furniture and other outdoor spaces. “People sometimes come up with crocheted political graffiti messages,” Lichterman laughs. “You never know what you’re going to get.”
Regardless of the knitted outcome, the confluence between Sorgot Et Hazman and Moadon HaKrosheh promised to be a decidedly enjoyable and, in all likelihood, emotive experience for all concerned.
Getting together in the middle of it all
The group arrangement suits the HaMiffal community-oriented ethos. “As soon as you come into contact with art, you feel you belong,” Gallia-Kind declares. Hopefully, the people who drop by the storied building on Hamaaravim Street for coffee, a business meeting, some creative meet-up, or to view the artworks on the upper level will be able to do so for decades to come. “This is an urban building, and we are a private nonprofit supported by the municipality. But there are lots of [construction-financial] interests around us,” he cautions.
The artistic director believes the road to survival, and even growth, lies in joining forces. “We are trying to work out how a community takes responsibility for a place.” That’s where the Friends Association comes in. The relevant slot of the organization’s website talks about sharing: “a deep belief in culture, community and creative freedom” and working together “to build resources and ensure HaMiffal’s future as an independent, innovative home for art, culture, and collaboration in Jerusalem.”
Amen to that. And with an exhibition lined up for Toronto in the coming months, and another for New York next year, hopefully that message will soon get out to an ever-widening circle of people around the world whose idea of life here is governed by the political agenda behind the media outlet from which they get their information. “We understand we can show Jerusalem in a different light,” says Gallia-Kind, “not the one shown in newspapers and on the news. We can show how Jerusalem can be. It is possible. Art can do that.”
For more information about HaMiffal: hamiffal.com/en/home/