I should have written this yesterday, when it was 11/12/13.
If I had a dollar for every time I walked or drove by the LA Mayer Museum of Islamic Art I would be able to buy one of the overpriced apartments in this neighborhood. Like the Eiffel Tower is to Parisians, for this Jerusalemite the museum was one of those places that constitute the backdrop of the city, to be visited one day when all other options were exhausted. Apparently that day was last Sunday.
To put a little context behind the visit I have to go back to Thursday night, around 830PM, when Dori (wearing a 40 pound backpack) arrived at our apt. It was great to see her; she looks wonderful, happy, optimistic about her future, excited about her military assignment (which she still hasn't received but has every reason to believe it will be what she wants). We chatted for about an hour, during which time she showed me how to upload photos, then was off to see friends. I was glad to see how well she has adjusted to life here, and how well she's (literally) navigating her way around.
Friday was more of the same for her - she was with friends which is exactly what an 18 year old should be doing. I was busy putting the finishing touches on my Shabbat preparations. The sun sets early (around 4PM) and everything had to be ready. We went to Friday night services at one of the most amazing congregations on the planet (not an exaggeration) - Shira Hadasha, which translates as a new song. It's hard to describe the spiritual character of the service. The emotional impact of the prayers, the singing, chanting, humming, are hypnotic and transforming. For about an hour you are in a spiritual space that is disconnected from everything temporal. Utterly amazing and the best way to enter Shabbat.
It was early when we got home (about 630PM) but it felt much later because it was so dark. Considering what I had to work with, which was a 2-burner cook top, dinner was an accomplishment. The only things I bought were a grilled chicken and apple strudel. I made everything else (chicken soup w/ kneidlach, rice, carrots, leeks). Dori was falling asleep by the time we finished eating, went to sleep and didn't get up till about 10 the next morning.
I had been pestering her about when she had to leave on Sunday. She was debating between meeting her group Sunday morning in Tel Aviv, where they had some kind of program planned, or meeting them Sunday afternoon in Latrun, where they were doing some kind of overnight/pre-basic training. While she was making up her mind I needed to look for options. She hadn't yet seen the Herod exhibit at the Israel Museum nor had she ever been to the Islamic Museum, which is only 2 block from here. Ultimately she voted for Tel Aviv, and left us around 10AM on Sunday morning.
So that left us with a decision of our own as to how to spend the day. We decided to go to the Islamic Museum. It was outstanding. It's small but well planned, laid out in 6 sections divided historically and geographically. The art is a synthesis of everything from the Koran to the Silk Road. You can trace the evolution of the Islamic world thru the multi-cultural influences that have been integrated into it's artistic expression. What was surprising was the appearance of representational art, both human and animal, that is prominent well into the 19th Century in some parts of the Islamic world, notably Iran. The cherry on top, however, was the exhibit on time pieces. The collection belonged to the father of the woman, Vera Salomons, who funded the Museum. I didn't know that watches were invented in the 1300's. This collection had pieces going back to the 1600's, and every one was literally a work of art. The signature piece was a watch that was commissioned for Marie Antoinette - a crystal (i.e. see-thru), multi-function watch that apparently she never actually got to use since she was long dead by the time the watch maker finished making it. I won't attempt to describe the collection or how beautifully it was displayed because I can't do it justice. Like so many things in Israel, it just defies description and has to be seen to be believed.
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