Ehud Netzer is dead. Zichrono Livracha.

Ehud Netzer, one of Israel's most distinguished archaeologists, died today (October 28, 2010) from injuries he suffered after falling at Herodion, the site most closely identified with his life's work.

Ehud's quest for the tomb of King Herod extended over several decades and was fulfilled in 2007, when he announced the discovery of a mausoleum containing finely-executed architraves, friezes, and cornices along with the remains of a smashed sarcophagus in an area along the eastern slope of Herod's fortress. I visited Herodian in May, 2010 and saw the steep slopes that Ehud would have been traversing during his work at the site.

I first met Ehud Netzer in 1971, during the Hebrew University excavations of the 2nd-6th Century CE Byzantine synagogue at Ein Gedi. Although the project was led by Prof. Dan Barag and Sefi Porat, Ehud visited the site periodically to record newly exposed features and architecture. After Ein Gedi, I had the honor of working under him at his excavations of Caesarea in 1975 and 1979.

His death is a shock. May his memory be for a blessing. Zichrono Livracha.

Ehud Netzer and crew clearing features adjacent to the central sanctuary, Ein Gedi Synagogue, 1971-72.

Ehud Netzer on the 6th Century CE Ein Gedi synagogue mosaic, recording newly exposed features during the 1971-72 field season.

Celebrating Sukkot in Jerusalem

The holiday of Succot ("Feast of Tabernacles") follows a few days after Yom Kippur. In Jerusalem, the sounds of hammering resounds through both the ultra-Orthodox Haredi and more heterogeneous neighborhoods, as people erect their Sukkot. In preparation for the holiday, an open-air market operates immediately across from the Machane Yehuda shuk, where vendors hawk the requisite Lulavim and Etrogim (Citron) which comprise the four species of plants required for ritual observance during Sukkot.

According to Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lulav):

"A lulav...must meet certain specifications in order to be kosher and permissible to be used to fulfill the commandment of the four species. Ideally, a lulav consists of a tightly closed frond of the date palm tree.To qualify, the lulav must be ramrod straight, with whole leaves that lay closely together, and not be bent or broken at the top. The twin middle-most leaves, which naturally grow together and are known as the tiyomet (תיומת, "twin"), should ideally not be split at all; however, the lulav remains kosher as long as the twin middle leaves are not split more than a handbreadth, approximating 3-4 inches.

The term lulav also refers to the lulav in combination with two of the other species—the aravah and the hadass—that are bound together to perform the mitzvah of waving the lulav. These three species are held in one hand while the etrog is held in the other. The user brings his or her hands together and waves the species in all four directions, plus up and down, to attest to God's mastery over all of creation. This ritual also symbolically voices a prayer for adequate rainfall over all the Earth's vegetation in the coming year..."

The following images were shot last night (September 19, 2010), using available incandescent light, as the Shuk was crowded with shoppers critically examining the ritual fitness of the lulavim and etrogim. Because there were several religious photography students shooting photos, the Haredi shoppers who normally resent photographers were actually posing for the students.

Etrogim in the Shuk

During the intermediate days of Sukkot, Jerusalem fills with dense crowds of worshipers and visitors, resulting in serious traffic jams and altered bus routes. Where there are crowds, the need for security increases, and the police have been out in force during the holiday. Here are a few images from Sunday, September 26, 2010:

Security detail in the Kotel Plaza.

  

Away from the surging nearby crowds, a Sukkah in the Davidson Archaeological Gardens, adjacent to the Kotel.

A note to be placed among the Kotel's stones.

Approaching the Kotel.

 View of the uppermost part of Temple Mount,
Jerusalem, October 27, 2010

Postscript:

Immediately after the Six-Day War of 1967, General Moshe Dyan decided to cede control of the Temple Mount precinct to the Waqf (the Muslim religious authorities in Jerusalem). This is a decision that many have come to regret. The Waqf rules the area with a heavy hand and any non-Muslim visitors suspected of the slightest outward display of active religious devotion (body motion, lips moving silently, etc) are immediately surrounded and ejected from the mountain. 

So it was very strange to see what appeared to be a small Sukkah standing freely in the area between the Dome of the Rock and El Aksa mosques. Of course, it wasn't really a Sukkah but more probably a visual curtain to prevent people from seeing the extensive illegal and damaging excavations that have been conducted by the Waqf over the last several years.

But it was, even if only for a fleeting moment, an image of how things could be one day, when we've managed to forge a true peace of mind and spirit. But I'm afraid this will require divine intervention.

Cultural Resources in Jerusalem - What gets preserved and what gets bulldozed?

A new bit of history unearthed in my neighborhood.

In a vacant Jerusalem lot slated for construction, workers recently encountered an ancient quarry. There was no official signage, other than a list of construction companies involved in developing the parcel. The site was evidently exposed and prepared for photography by archaeological professionals (situations like this fall under the purview of the Israel Antiquities Authority).

Respecting the site, I took this photo from outside the corrugated metal fencing that surrounds the property:


However, in retrospect, I wish I had gone in and explored the newly exposed site, because less than one week later...


... it was jack hammered into oblivion. The new apartment building is now nearing completion.

Changes threaten Jerusalem's German Colony

At the entrance of Jerusalem's German Colony neighborhood (corner of Emek Refaim and Bethlehem Road) stand two buildings that reflect the architectural character of the neighborhood which was established by the German Templars during the nineteenth century. The church and associated adjacent building are threatened by developers who think we need yet another luxury building at the expense of eviscerating the historical integrity of the Templers' German Colony district. Many neighborhood residents have organized to oppose the replacement of these structures.


The following is excerpted from:
http://www.armtown.com/news/en/htq/20100401/201004011/

"In his book about the German Colony, Jerusalem architect and historian David Kroyanker says that the community used the building for weddings, funerals, prayer services and political gatherings. The Palestine branch of the Nazi Party held its meetings there.

During World War II, the British Mandate government expelled the Templers as enemy aliens. After the war, with East Jerusalem cut off from West Jerusalem, the small Armenian community was left without a place of prayer, and in response to a request by the Armenian patriarch, Israel gave him the small German community center as their church. The caretaker's home was given to Anahid's parents, who had to leave their home in Baka during the fighting, and the couple because the church caretakers.

Since then, time seems to have stood still in the complex. Ohannessian lives in the house by herself with two dogs and a cat. Although the spot is one of the busiest intersections in the capital, there is not a neighbor for hundreds of meters around.

Ohannessian lived peacefully in the house until, a few years ago, she found out the building and land had been bought by a real estate developer, who plans to put up an eight-story hotel on the site."

The Old City during Ramadan

In the midst of Ramadan, it’s a good time to wander through the Old City and try new routes.  We entered through Herod's Gate, which I probably last accessed more than 35 years ago. The city was fairly crowded today, with a higher than usual number of Muslim worshipers making their way along the narrow alleyways.

The arches of Herod's Gate

I wasn't so much interested in photographing people, but preferred discovering new architectural features that I've never seen before, or else try to re-photograph others, but under different lighting conditions.

The dentilled stonework of this arch in the Muslim Quarter (below) is reminiscent of the fine stonework of the much earlier Shaar Ha Rachamim (Gate of Mercy/Golden Gate), situated along the eastern axis of the Old City walls.

Near one of the main Muslim-only entrances to the Temple Mount, a man slowly makes his way up the stairs, on a warm fast day.

Near the same main Muslim-only entrance to the Temple Mount, a covered street with vaulted ceilings.

The way to Temple Mount…

A mosque with dedicatory plaque, engraved with exquisite Arabic calligraphy.

Another dedicatory inscription, Muslim Quarter.

Plaque detail.

Fragments of Memories of Israel Past (I)

In addition to contemporary photography, I will from time to time also post images of a younger nation of Israel, spanning the 1970s. My most profound impressions of this country were internalized during my initial nine month sojourn in 1971-72.

During that stay, I discovered my passion for Archaeology and worked on several significant archaeological projects. At the same time, I was also introduced to the daily security challenges faced by Israelis. The 1971-72 field season at the Byzantine Synagogue at Ein Gedi occurred less than a year following Black September, when thousands died in clashes between King Hussein's Jordanian forces and fighters of the PLO.

Winter 1971-72 Byzantine Synagogue Excavations at Ein Gedi

In order to discourage and/or intercept possible terrorist infiltrations from Jordan, a small army outpost operated above the Ein Gedi Field School. There, in a tiny shack, a solitary young soldier named Benny nightly operated a huge searchlight which panned back and forth across the dark void of the Dead Sea basin. During daylight hours, Israel Phantom jets trained in very low-altitude fly-overs above our synagogue excavations. The jets were so low that we could see the pilots and the sonic booms during training were deafening. I saw similar jets a year later (1973), when I returned for archaeological projects in Tiberias and Halutza. These standard military aviation exercises became a matter of life-and-death just one week after I returned to the US, with the outbreak of the Yom Kippur War.

During the mid-1970s, nocturnal terrorist incursions were common along Israel's northern border. On several occasions during the 1975 archaeological field season at Tel Dan, morning work was delayed until the army scrutinized the site for hidden terrorists or booby-traps and issued an all-clear. During that field season, there was at least one instance when we (the staff) were instructed by the army to restrict ourselves to the relatively sheltered grassy area between buildings at the Tel Hai youth hostel where we were quartered, while they engaged with several infiltrators. Following a brief period of machine gun fire, we were told it was safe to leave the compound.

During one of these attacks, near Metulla in 1975, the army sought to pinpoint terrorist infiltrators by releasing flares on parachutes which illuminated the countryside near the border with a harsh penetrating light. I captured the moment as a time-exposure showing the slow descent of the flares, taken amidst the sounds of sustained machine-gun fire.

View of attack, looking toward the Golan Heights

Israel maintained border security, in part, by a series of dirt track roads along the frontier which often paralleled existing paved roadways. The purpose of these secondary tracks was to spot the footprints of infiltrators from Syria, Lebanon, and Egypt. This was done by systematically scrapping the dirt roads one or more times daily, so that their freshly raked surface would show the footsteps in these no-man's land zones. These procedures were necessary in the days before high-tech security cameras. I still occasionally see the same dirt tracks and presume they continue as a security component in our defense.

Israel Tank Patrol, near Kuneitra, 1979.

Youthful Stupidity

Three foolish guys: Joe S., Joel S. Dzodin, and Mayer the Sabra

While excavating the Byzantine Synagogue at the Ein Gedi (1971-72), I became friends with a brash young Sabra soldier named Mayer. Although he spoke some English, his preferred phrase which he used liberally was "F**k you, Bugger!" Mayer conceived the notion that three of us would hike up the steep ascent ("Maale Essene") behind Ein Gedi and camp for a few days in the Judaean Desert. In those months following Black September, the Judaean Desert was a closed military zone. Mayer knew this and we asked him to secure the requisite army permission to camp in the desert.

Perhaps it was our language barrier, or perhaps its was his own arrogant chutzpa, but it seems that Mayer never bothered contacting the army. One day, in the late afternoon, three of us climbed the steep ascent to the desert floor and settled in a sheltered spot shortly before dark. As evening set in, several patrol vehicles appeared in the distance, flashing searchlights across the area. Whether they were there for training maneuvers or because they'd spotted our footprints, we had no idea. But we soon heard machine gunfire and discussed whether we should show ourselves or just hunker down. We chose the latter and were never found. We managed a few hours' sleep and sheepishly returned to camp the next morning. Afterwards, Mayer grudgingly admitted he had endangered our lives.

Mayer, on our ill-advised (unauthorized) overnight trip from Ein Gedi to the Judaean Desert.

The ruined Jerusalem Railway Station, a historic resource lost.

The derelict Jerusalem Railway Station (תחנת הרכבת ירושלים‎ - Tahanat HaRakevet) is situated between Derech Hevron and Derech Bethlehem, near the beginning of the German Colony of Jerusalem. Erected by the Ottoman Turks in 1892, it comprised a part of the Jaffa–Jerusalem railway and ceased operations in 1998. It has suffered from both general neglect and deliberate vandalism, as recently as 2010, when arsonists set fire to its interior. As a result, the Jerusalem municipality has sealed off access to the structure. These images were taken prior to the most recent arson.

As recorded by a historical marker, the station was targeted by the Irgun during the British Mandate period.

  

Around 2006, an artist installed a series of painted steel panels, in a noble attempt to restore some visual aesthetics to the ruin. While they survived unscathed for a time, eventually vandals defaced them with graffiti and slashed a gash in one of the panels.

Crazed paint on a wooden arch facing the railroad platform.








 

In the dark interior, an unexpected gem: a fresco of  Jerusalem's Old City walls, complete with the municipal "Coat-of Arms".

Fresco detail: the municipal "Coat-of Arms".