Florentine, TLV, 2014

 Florentine, Tel Aviv, 2014

JReeve

Finsbury Bank

The old Finsbury Bank for Savings on Sekforde Street in Clerkenwell.

March, 2017

Goodwillgames. Wikicommons

London Fields by Night

In this photoset for the Hackney Gazette, photographer Kristian Buus captured nightly scenes within the verdant interior of London Fields during the recent weeks and months of the pandemic. Due to the relative absence of traditional third spaces functioning as normal such as restaurants and cafes, London's parks have taken on an even greater social role within the fabric of the city. 

Due to current restrictions, Londoners are permitted to meet outdoors, but unlike in the summer and earlier this fall, they can now only meet with one other person outdoors to socialize.

In my opinion, as the city with the most outstanding parks and green spaces of any major capital in the world, I found this piece to be particularly intriguing. Buus's photo series captures the intimacy of these gatherings and illustrates the importance of London's green spaces as the de-facto meeting points for intimate encounters outside of one's own home. More than that, though, it's the profiles and interviews of these Londoners themselves, who represent such a diverse mosaic, which makes this such great journalism. 

I didn't make it up to London Fields or Broadway Market on my last visit, but the memories I have from my time there are still strong. This piece resonated a lot and I definitely hope to be back soon.

Hackney Gazette. Kristian Buus

L’Étoile Manquante

The view of Rue Vielle du Temple in the Marais quarter in Paris. The photo is taken from the vantage point of a window within L’Étoile Manquante, a neighborhood cafe.

Agnes Dherbeys for The New York Times

London '19

Some notes and reflections from around this time last year:

Dec '19

The cafe slowly emptied out and from my small window side table looking out onto a mostly darkened stretch of semi-detached Victorian terraced houses, I noticed it began to rain again. It was only a short walk back to Highbury and Islington Station, but it was late and since I had been reverting to old habits and hours, I found myself drifting back to unanswered messages and scattered notes of former addresses and book shops and general points of interest, mostly close by in Hackney. There were still a few small groups of friends and couples huddled over half-empty cups of cafe au lait seated in the back and away from the blasts of winter air that kept drafting in. But other than those remaining few, most tables had already cleared out. I'd been going back and forth, intermittently reading a secondhand copy of Joseph Roth's Hotel Savoy I brought and returning to the incomplete journal entries on my phone. I began to try and write more, just to let some fleeting thoughts flow.

The barista passed by and asked again in a warm voice if I needed anything extra. Her hair was mostly tied back and a thick dash of dark fringe hung down obscuring her eyes. She looked tired, but hid it well and I could tell she was probably accustomed to a routine of late shifts and minimal sleep. Feeling my own mixture of fatigue and jet lag catching up, I regretted the recent stretch of more or less sleepless nights and I was reminded about a period about eight years earlier when I when I just finished my last stint of reserve duty and also traveled back this same way from Europe and essentially returned to Israel and my small second floor flat in Florentin feeling more like a stranger than I had before. 

By the time I arrived back at Earl's Court it was past midnight and even though I was spent, I took a slight detour and walked an extra block or so down and stopped at the local Co-op to pick up water and a few things before heading back to the hotel. Almost everything else, including the Nandos across the street and the string of fast food chains had just closed, and the high street itself was nearly deserted at that hour, save for the few random passersby who were coming and going, each shielded by an umbrella or hooded parka. The store was largely empty and I waited in the self-service queue behind a young couple who looked to be in their early twenties who I overheard quietly speaking in Polish. 

When I reached the check out counter, the woman who was working on shift came to check my signature and ID. She looked similarly tired and weary, but when noticing my Massachusetts license, she cheerfully mentioned about having relatives of her own in Boston. I added and told her she should come visit during foliage season in autumn if she's never been before. Her eyes were dark and her accent was heavy and I would have guessed it was Albanian or something similarly Balkan. For a moment I thought I saw her glance inquisitively at the Hebrew on both my teudat zehut and miluim ID when I was putting my license back. Not that it mattered. It was more indicative of my mindset when traveling than anything else.

On my way back I saw a message light up on my phone as I passed Earl's Court station again. There were a couple of people hovered around and waiting under the station's small awning that faced the high street. Among the late returning commuters and other stragglers, I also noticed the Polish couple from the store. The girl was leaning back against the wall and taking meticulous care to lick and tighten her thinly rolled cigarette, only glancing up once to make eye contact with her companion, who himself looked disengaged and glued to his phone. After a few minutes they left together and then split and walked off in different directions. I tried to compose a quick reply in front of one of the transit maps, but ended up procrastinating and not sending anything. The crosswalk lights flashed and I trudged across the wet intersection and back towards Hogarth Road where I crashed out nearly as soon as I got home.

Hogarth Road, Earl's Court

Reuven Rubin

Reuven Rubin's 1929 painting The Fiancees. The painting shows the artist and his American-born wife Esther on the balcony of their home in Tel Aviv during the British Mandate period. Reuven Rubin was born Reuven Zelicovici in Galaţi, Romania and would later become Israel's first ambassador to Romania. He studied at Betzalel in Jerusalem and went on to spend significant time during the inter-war period between Mandatory Palestine, Europe, and America. As a painter and an artist, he is considered an Israeli national treasure.

Reuven Rubin

L'eau à la bouche

Street scene along Broadway Market in Hackney outside L'eau à la bouche, a neighborhood delicatessen and cafe.

Veggie Option. 2018.

Soho, NYC

Street scene outside Rintintin on the corner of Spring and Elizabeth Streets in Soho.

December 13th, 2020

Luke Tress. Times of Israel

RIP John le Carre

"The more identities a man has, the more they express the person they conceal." - George Smiley, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (1974)

Image below: Gary Oldman as George Smiley, one of fiction's greatest ever anti-heroes, and Tom Hardy as Ricki Tarr in Thomas Alfredson 2011 big screen adaptation of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy.

Jack English. Feature Films

There aren't enough words to describe John le Carre's legacy and his impact on literature in the second half of the 20th century and into the current millennium. He was not a spy novelist. He was a writer that transcended all labels and wrote about the deepest and often darkest of our inner workings and relationships. The sense of betrayal, both personal and professional, was always lurking under the surface within le Carre's work. In today's literary circles, he has few peers, if any. He will be sorely missed.

David Cornwell aka John le Carre in Hamburg, 1964

Ralph Crane/The Life Picture Collection/Getty Images

Exmouth Market, LDN

 Exmouth Market on an autumn day.

Derek Clark. Flickr.

Herzl 16 Rooftop

Rooftop view from Herzl 16 with a half illuminated Migdal Shalom and other more modern towers off Ahad Ha'Am and Rothschild in the near distance.  

Herzl 16 FB

Broadway Market, Hackney

Hopefully we're on the way to getting back to similar Saturday afternoon scenes soon.

Alex Seagre. Alamy.

Dusk in Brussels

Brussels on a rainy early evening.

September 2020

Dmitry Kostyukov. New York Times.

More Comrade Detective

Just because.

עוד אחד מקיבוץ ניר דוד

One more panoramic shot over Kibbutz Nir David in northern Israel's Beit She'an Valley. Reaffirming why the north is easily my favorite region in Israel by far.

Aviad Shmuel