Features
Former Winnipeggers Ari & Pablo Schor have Canada’s 8th best restaurant
Since 2016 “Canada’s 100 Best Restaurants” (https://canadas100best.com/), edited by Jacob Richler, has been publishing lists of the 100 best restaurants in Canada. This year the list was determined by a panel of 135 judges.
As the Canada’s 100 Best Restaurants website explains, “Our judging panel is a balanced mix of informed culinary enthusiasts, food writers and critics, chefs, restaurateurs and other food service professionals. Their number in each province and region is proportional to the population. Judges were asked to vote for restaurants based on the complete dining experience provided – service, decor, the depth of the cellar and, above all else, food quality…each judge must vote for a minimum of three restaurants outside of their home region.”
Year after year, Montreal restaurants have consistently dominated the selections – and the most recent edition of “Canada’s 100 Best” is no exception – with 27 of the top restaurants being situated in Montreal. (Toronto had 18 on the list, Vancouver -15, Ottawa – 8, Calgary – 7, and Halifax – 4.
Winnipeg, alas, had but one: “Deer and Almond.”)
Placing number eight on the list, however, was a restaurant that had actually first made it on to the list last year, when it placed in 16th place: “Beba.”
Beba,” which is located in Verdun, a borough of Montreal, has only been opened since 2019.
What might make Beba especially interesting for readers of this paper is the fact that it is owned and operated by two brothers who grew up in Winnipeg – after having moved here with their parents from Argentina in 1997.
Ariel and Pablo Schor are the sons of Monica and Eduardo Schor. Their aunt and uncle, who also came to Winnipeg in 1997, are Anna and Carlos Schor.
Ariel (who prefers to be known simply as Ari, and who was born in 1984) and Pablo (born in 1986) are both former students at Gray Academy, with Ari having graduated from there in 2001, while Pablo went to Gray Academy until the end of Grade 10, whereupon he transferred to the University of Winnipeg Collegiate for his final two years of high school. Ari also told me that he went on Birthright in 2002, Pablo some years later.
Beba is a quite small restaurant, seating only 28, but its reputation is such that you would need to make a reservation at least a month in advance in order to have a table there.
Here is what Canada’s 100 Best 100 Restaurants had to say about Beba: “THIS COZY 28-SEAT BISTRO on an out-of-the-way corner in Verdun is staying true to its Argentinian and Jewish roots while expanding its range. To wit: Spanish and Italian influences artfully mashed up via imported seafood, as exemplified by chef (and co-owner) Ari Schor’s Iwashi Montadito. This dish features Japanese sardines prepared Spanish style on sesame toast, with butter, horseradish and chives. Consider it a nod to schmaltz herring. As they hit their fourth birthday, Schor and chef de cuisine Dixon Cone are expanding their offerings while keeping menu favourites, such as their famous empanadas, along with Swiss chard– wrapped involtini and grilled rabbit, best enjoyed on Beba’s diminutive summer patio. You might find firefly squid when they can get it, or guinea fowl with chorizo and saffron-laced caldoso. To this mix, add brother Pablo and sommelière Anaïs Flebus, whose old-world wine list showcases organic, minimal-intervention bottles. The Schors’ convivial and unstuffy neighbourhood restaurant is worth a detour.”
Recently, I managed to speak to Ari Schor – just after he had helped put to bed his two daughters, Isabel, age 4, and Olive, age 2. I asked him how he had come to end up in the restaurant business in Montreal, and how did he and Pablo get the idea to open their own restaurant?
Ari explained that, after graduating Gray Academy, he took the culinary arts course at Red River College. He told me that he had always had an interest in preparing food from scratch. “I have pictures of me rolling fresh pasta when I was 10,” he said.
His first job in a Winnipeg kitchen was at the Fairmont Hotel, Ari noted, followed by stints at the Lobby on York, and Pizzeria Gusto (on Academy).
In 2012 Ari left Winnipeg for Montreal, when he began working at the well-known “Joe Beef.”
In 2013 he moved over to Liverpool House, which is owned by the same owners as Joe Beef. Ari became head chef there. Perhaps his most famous moment during his time there came in 2017 when he cooked dinner for Prime Minister Justin Trudeau and a recently-retired President Barack Obama.
Pablo Schor took a somewhat different route into the restaurant business. He attended the University of Manitoba, where he studied small business management and human resource management.
After graduating, Pablo went first to Vancouver, but Ari says that he and Pablo had long talked about opening their own restaurant.
An article in the Montreal Gazette described the challenges that awaited the brothers – much to their chagrin, in opening Beba: “They opened Beba in the late summer of 2019, having sunk their life savings, $200,000, into the spot. Seven months later COVID-19 came and they had to shut down. On top of that, Ari’s daughter Izzy was just born.
“ ‘I contemplated becoming an electrician or a refrigeration specialist, something, anything, to pay the bills,’ Ari recalled. ‘We poured everything we had into this place. But I’m so glad we stuck to our dream. For lack of a better phrase, the proof is in the pudding now.’”
I asked Ari why he and Pablo chose to open quite a small restaurant in Verdun which, until a few years ago, was mainly a working class neighborhood of Montreal (as opposed to downtown Montreal, which is where most of the other restaurants on the top 100 list are located)?
He answered that there were two reasons: The first is “you have to stand out and be unique on a quiet street,” while the second reason is that “when you’re starting out, you want to start small.”
Ari added that because “a small space means small storage,” Beba changes its menu just “about every second day.”
And, while the restaurant does attempt to source its foods locally, Ari says that “local produce is not really our ethos…We want the best we can serve,” he says.
“We’re getting white asparagus from Holland, for example,” he notes.
As for what roles they play in the restaurant, while Ari is the head chef, Pablo “is a very experienced bar tender” with an extensive knowledge of wines, Ari adds.
Also, Pablo’s business training equips him to handle the front of the house, as well as bookkeeping duties, Ari says.
While the restaurant seats only 28, the fact that it is so consistently busy had led to Beba employing a staff of 18. But, because Ari knows firsthand how grueling it can be working in a restaurant – often starting at 10 in the morning and working until well past midnight – he and Pablo have deliberately organized the restaurant’s schedule so that no employee – including the owners, will ever have to work more than 40 hours in any given week.
“It takes a lot of time to change the way we work in restaurants,” Ari observes, but “Covid taught us what’s really important,” which is to maintain a proper work-life balance.
Since Ari already told me that he has two daughters, I ask him whether he’s married. (You can’t assume anything.)
He said that his wife’s name is Ashley Joseph and that her father is from Israel.
That got me to wondering about the Schor family itself and where Ari and Pablo’s grandparents came from – since I guessed that, like almost all Argentinean Jews, they had emigrated to Argentina from Europe in the first half of the 20th century.
“Our grandfather on our father’s side is from Romania,” Ari answers, while “our grandmother on our mother’s side is from Poland or Lithuania.” (He wasn’t quite sure which.)
As for their mother’s parents, their grandfather is from England, while their grandmother is from Germany.
I said to Ari that his and Pablo’s ancestry is reminiscent of so many Winnipeg Jews’ ancestry, and that it was probably just luck of the draw that drew their grandparents to Argentina rather than Canada or the U.S.
The fact that one of their grandparents was from England also led to their speaking English, as well as Spanish, when they were growing up in Argentina – which was of tremendous benefit when they both started school in Winnipeg.
In fact, Ari told an amusing story about his first year at Gray Academy, when he would have been 13. He said that he was a very quiet student – and his teacher naturally assumed it was because he had difficulty speaking English. But, when he took a reading comprehension test – and aced it, the teacher was somewhat astonished, and asked Ari why he had kept his ability to speak and understand English such a secret?
Returning to Beba – and what all the acclaim has meant for Ari and Pablo, Ari suggests that “you shouldn’t go after accolades, you should go after goals.
He says that one of his biggest recent thrills was being able to cook for Gail Simmons (whom I had never heard of, apparently because I never watch the Cooking Channel). Simmons has been a judge on Bravo’s Emmy-award winning show “Top Chef “ since 2006, according to Wikipedia.
When I ask Ari whether, given the enormous success that Beba has enjoyed in the relatively brief period since it opened, he and Pablo have any plans to expand the restaurant or perhaps open another one, he answers, “I’d rather not have two mediocre restaurants. I’d rather have one that’s always improving. For now, we’re very happy running the restaurant.”
Features
Antisemitism in the Medical Profession in Canada
By HENRY SREBRNIK (June 27, 2025) Antisemitism in Canada now flourishes even where few would expect to confront it. Since the Hamas attack on Israel on October 7, 2023, there has been a resurgence of antisemitism noticeable in the world of healthcare.
When Israeli Gill Kazevman applied to medical school, and circulated his CV to physician mentors, their most consistent feedback was, “Do not mention anything relating to Israel,” he told National Post journalist Sharon Kirkey in an Aug. 10, 2024, story. As a student at the University of Toronto’s Temerty Faculty of Medicine, “I began to see all kinds of caricatures against Jews. I saw faculty members, people in power, people that I’m supposed to rely on, post horrible things against Jews, against Israelis,” he added. The faculty created a Senior Advisor on Antisemitism, Dr. Ayelet Kuper, who in a report released in 2022, confirmed widespread anti-Jewish hatred.
The Jewish Medical Association of Ontario (JMAO) conducted a 2024 survey of 944 Jewish doctors and medical students from across Canada. Two thirds of respondents were “concerned that antisemitic bias from peers or educators will negatively affect their careers.” Dr. Lisa Salomon, JMAO’s president, reported that at the University of Toronto medical school only 11 Jewish students were completing their first year of medical school out of a class of 291. The medical school in 1974 saw 46 Jews in a class of 218.
Also in Toronto, Hillel Ontario called on Toronto Metropolitan University to investigate Dr. Maher El-Masri, who has served as the director of the Daphne Cockwell School of Nursing, because, the group contended, he has “repeatedly engaged with and spread extreme, antisemitic, and deeply polarizing content on his social media account.”
The National Post’s Ari Blaff in an article on June 12, 2025 quoted social media posts from an account Hillel claimed belongs to Dr. Maher El-Masri, who has been the director of the Daphne Cockwell School of Nursing. One message concerned a post about Noa Marciano, an Israeli intelligence soldier abducted by Hamas on Oct. 7, 2023, who later died in captivity. “This is what is so scary about people like her,” the TMU professor wrote. “They look so normal and innocent, but they hide monstrous killers in their sick, brainwashed minds.” Israel, he asserted a day after the Hillel notice, “is a baby killer state. It always has been.”
The Quebec Jewish Physicians Association (AMJQ) is fighting antisemitism in that province. Montreal cardiologist Dr. Lior Bibas, who also teaches at Université de Montréal, co-founded the group in the weeks following the October 7 terrorist attack. They feel young doctors have been bearing the brunt of anti-Israel sentiment since then. “We heard that trainees were having a hard time,” he told Joel Ceausu of the Canadian Jewish News Feb. 3. “We saw a worsening of the situation and were hearing stories of trainees removed from study groups, others put on the defensive about what’s happening,” and some saw relationships with residents deteriorating very quickly.
Dr. Bibas thinks there are similarities with Ontario counterparts. “Trainees are getting the brunt of all this. Their entire training ecosystem — relationships with peers and physicians — has changed.” Whether anti-Zionist remarks, blaming Jews for Israel’s actions, or other behaviour, it can be debilitating in a grueling academic and career setting. The fear of retaliation is so strong, that some students were unwilling to report incidents, even anonymously.
Jewish physicians have now founded a national umbrella group, the Canadian Federation of Jewish Medical Associations (CFJMA), linking the provinces, and representing over 2,000 Jewish physicians and medical learners, advocating for their interests and promoting culturally safe care for Jewish patients. And “it’s really been nonstop, given that we have a lot of issues,” Dr. Bibas told me in a conversation June 17. “People have been feeling that there’s been a weaponization of health care against Israel.”
He stressed that health care should remain politically neutral – meetings are an inappropriate venue in which to talk about the war in Gaza, he stated, and “this will just lead to arguments.” Nor should doctors, nurses and hospital staff wear pins with Palestinian maps or flags. And no Jewish patient being wheeled into an operating room should see this “symbol of hate.”
On Jan. 6, a group of Montreal-area medical professionals walked off the job to protest outside Radio-Canada offices, calling for an arms embargo, ceasefire and medical boycotts of Israel. Those who could not attend were encouraged to wear pins and keffiyehs to work. When asked if such a walkout should be sanctioned, Quebec Health Minister Christian Dubé’s office had no comment. Neither did the Collège des médecins (CDM) that governs professional responsibilities. The leadership of many institutions have remained passive.
B’nai Brith Canada recently exposed a group channel, hosted on the social media platform Discord, in which Quebec students engaged in antisemitic, racist, misogynistic and homophobic rhetoric. More than 1,400 applicants to Quebec medical schools, as well as currently enrolled medical school students, were in the group, which was ostensibly set up to support students preparing for admission to Quebec’s four medical programs. “I saw it, and it’s vile,” remarked Dr. Bibas, noting how brazenly some of the commentators expressed themselves, using Islamist rhetoric and Nazi-era imagery, such as referring to Anne Frank as “the rat in the attic.”
Doctors Against Racism and Antisemitism (DARA) said in a statement, “These messages are the direct result of the inaction and prolonged silence of medical school and university leaders across Canada since October 7, 2023, in the face of the meteoric rise of antisemitism in their institutions. Silence is no longer an option. Quebec’s medical schools and universities must act immediately. These candidates must not be admitted to medical school.” DARA member Dr. Philip Berger stated that “there’s been a free flow, really, an avalanche of anti-Israel propaganda, relentlessly sliding into Canadian medical faculties and on university campuses.”
In Winnipeg, a valedictory speech delivered to the 2024 class of medical school students graduating from the Max Rady College of Medicine at the University of Manitoba on May 16, 2024 set off a storm of controversy, as reported by Bernie Bellan in this newspaper. It involved a strongly worded criticism of Israel by Dr. Gem Newman. “I call on my fellow graduates to oppose injustice -and violence — individual and systemic” in Palestine, “where Israel’s deliberate targeting of hospitals and other civilian infrastructure has led to more than 35,000 deaths and widespread famine and disease.” The newspaper noted that “loud cheers erupted at that point from among the students.”
The next day, the dean of the college, Dr. Peter Nickerson, issued a strongly worded criticism of Dr. Newman’s remarks. On Monday, May 20, Ernest Rady, who made a donation of $30 million to the University of Manitoba in 2016, and whose father, Max Rady, now has his name on the school, sent an email in response to Dr. Newman’s remarks.
“I write to you today because I was both hurt and appalled by the remarks the valedictorian, Gem Newman, gave at last week’s Max Rady College of Medicine convocation, and I was extremely disappointed in the University’s inadequate response. Newman’s speech not only dishonored the memory of my father, but also disrespected and disparaged Jewish people as a whole, including the Jewish students who were in attendance at that convocation.”
In subsequent weeks Jewish physicians in Manitoba organized themselves into a new group, “The Jewish Physicians of Manitoba.” As Dr. Michael Boroditsky, who was then President of Doctors Manitoba, noted, “Jewish physicians in cities across Canada and the U.S. have been forming formal associations in response to heightened antisemitism following the Hamas massacre of October 7.”
After October 7, Jewish students at the University of Calgary’s Cumming School of Medicine reported exposure to repeated antisemitic posts by peers on social media, being subject to antisemitic presentations endorsed by faculty during mandatory classes, social exclusion and hateful targeting by university-funded student groups, and removal from learning environments or opportunities subsequent to antisemitic tirades made by faculty in public spaces.
In addition to online vitriol, medical students have been subject to antisemitic actions coordinated by university-funded student groups with physician-faculty support under the guise of advocating against the actions of the Israeli government. All instances of discrimination, they stated in a brief, have been witnessed by and/or reported to senior leadership of the medical school without incurring condemnation of the discrimination.
In Vancouver, social media posts vilifying Israel and espousing Jew hatred were circulated by physicians at the Faculty of Medicine of the University of British Columbia, noted an article in the National Post of May 25, 2025. Allegations included Christ-killing, organ trafficking, and other nefarious conspiracies supposedly hatched by Jewish doctors. Some asserted that Jewish faculty should not be allowed to adjudicate resident matching because the examining doctors were Jewish and might be racist.
In November of 2023, one-third of all UBC medical students signed a petition endorsing this call. Jewish learners who refused to sign were harassed by staff and students on social media. When challenged, the Dean of the medical faculty refused to recognize antisemitism as a problem at UBC or to meet with the representatives of almost 300 Jewish physicians who had signed a letter expressing concern about the tolerance of Jew hatred, and the danger of a toxic hyper-politicized academic environment. This led to the public resignation of Dr. Ted Rosenberg, a senior Jewish faculty member.
Here in the Maritimes, things seem less dire. I spoke to Dr. Ian Epstein, a faculty member in the Division of Digestive Care & Endoscopy at the Dalhousie University Faculty of Medicine. He helps coordinate a group supporting Jewish and Israeli faculty, residents and medical students.
“Our group is certainly aware of growing antisemitism. Many are hiding their Jewish identities. There have been instances resulting in Jewish and Israeli students being excluded and becoming isolated. It has been hard to have non-Jewish colleagues understand. That said our group has come together when needed, and we have not faced some of the same challenges as larger centres,” Dr. Epstein told me. Dalhousie has also taken a stand against academic boycotts of Israel, which some view as a form of antisemitism. The University of Prince Edward Island in Charlottetown has just opened a new medical school. Let’s hope this doesn’t happen here.
Lior Bibas in Montreal indicated that his group is worried “not only as Jewish doctors and professionals, but for Jewish patients who are more than ever concerned with who they’re meeting.” Can we really conceive of a future where you’re not sure if “the doctor will hate you now?”
Henry Srebrnik is a political science professor at the University of Prince Edward Island.
Features
I Speak “Jew”
By MARK E. PAULL I grew up in Montreal. Born in 1956. Anglo by birth, sure. But that never quite fit. I don’t speak “Anglo” the way they mean it. My real language is Jew.
And I don’t mean Hebrew or Yiddish. I mean the language of reading the room before you enter it. The code-switching, shame-dodging, laugh-first-so-they-don’t-pounce dialect we pick up early. It’s a language built on side-eyes and timing and ten generations of tension.
I speak French—enough to make myself understood. Enough to charm a dinner table, crack a joke, get someone’s uncle to nod. I’m not fluent, but I’m fast. Doesn’t matter. In Quebec, language isn’t grammar—it’s inheritance. It’s who your grandfather cursed out in a hardware store.
To the Francophones, I’ll never be one of them. My accent betrays me before I say a word. I’m just an Anglo. And not even that, really. Because when the lens tightens, when they look closely, I’m just un Juif. Just a Jew.
And to the Anglos? Same thing. I can wear the suit, speak the Queen’s English, order the wine properly—still a Jew. Even in rooms where I “pass,” I don’t belong. I’m not invited in to be myself. I’m invited in to behave. To be safe. To not say the thing that makes the air stiff.
We’re the only people still called by our religion. No one says “Orthodox” for a Greek. No one says “Vatican” for an Italian. No one calls a Black man “Baptist” before they see his face. But “Jew”? That sticks. That’s the label. Before passport. Before language. Before hello.
I’ve mostly made peace with that. But there’s still this ache—knowing you can live your whole life in a place and never really be from there.
Let me tell you a story.
We had this block party once—the folding-table, paper-plate kind. Kids zipping by on scooters. Music low. Everyone asked to bring something from “your culture.”
The Greek guy brought lemon potatoes and lamb—felt like it came with a side of Byzantine history. The Italians brought two lasagnas—meat and veggie—with basil placed like confetti. The Vietnamese couple brought shrimp rolls that vanished before they hit the table. Even the German guy—built like a fridge—brought bratwurst and a six-pack with gothic lettering.
And then us.
My partner made Moroccan fish. Her grandmother’s recipe. Red with tomatoes, garlic, cumin. Studded with olives and preserved lemon. I brought a bottle of white wine. Dry. Crisp. From the Golan Heights. Not Manischewitz. Not even close.
We laid it out. Someone leaned over: “Moroccan? But I thought you were Jewish.”
We smiled. “We are.”
Then: “So… where’s the brisket? Isn’t Jewish wine supposed to be sweet?”
That’s when it hits you. No matter how long you’ve lived here, how many snowstorms you’ve shoveled through, you’re still explaining yourself. Still translating your presence.
Because they don’t know. They don’t know Jews came from everywhere. That “Jewish” isn’t one dish—it’s a whole map. That we had Jews in Morocco before there was even a France. That some of us grew up on kreplach, some on kefta. That some of our mothers sang in Yiddish, others in Arabic, and some in both—depending on who was knocking.
They don’t know. And worse—they don’t ask.
And that’s the part that gets you. Not the slurs. Not the graffiti. Not even the occasional muttered cliché. It’s the blankness. The shrug. The image they already have of you that’s built out of dreidels and sitcoms.
“Jewish” as nostalgic. As novelty. Something they saw once on a bagel.
Sometimes, when those questions come, I float. One version of me walks out. Another turns into a mouse. One turns into a Frisbee. Just gone. Not mad. Just tired.
Because being a Jew isn’t cute. It’s not nostalgic.
It’s ancient.
Before Montreal.
Before France.
Before Poland. Before Spain.
Before pogroms.
Before ghettos.
Before Hitler.
Before even the word Europe.
We were there.
Go back to the 5th century. 2nd century.
Go back to Jesus—our kid, by the way.
Go further—Babylon. Persia.
Keep going—Temple. Exile. Wandering.
And still, after all that, I’m at a table in Quebec explaining why our fish has cumin in it.
It’s almost funny. If it didn’t wear you down a little.
I’m not looking for pity. This isn’t a complaint.
I’m proud. I know what I carry. I walk into any room with five thousand years behind me. I come from people who kept the lights on through every kind of darkness—and laughed through it, too.
But sometimes, I just wish I didn’t have to explain so much.
All I want is to put down my dish…
…and hear someone say:
“That smells amazing. Tell me the story.”
That’s all.
Mark E. Paull, C.A.C. is a Certified ADHD Coach – IPHM, CMA, IIC&M, CPD Certified
Writer | Lived-Experience Advocate | Type 1 Diabetic since 1967
He has been published in:
The New York Times, The Globe and Mail, Folklife Magazine, Times of Israel, CHADD’s Attention Magazine, The Good Men Project
Features
At 104, Besse Gurevich last original resident of Shaftesbury Park Retirement Residence
By MYRON LOVE At 104, Besse Gurevich is the last of the original residents of Shaftesbury Park Retirement Residence. She may also be the oldest member of our Jewish community.
Although her vision and her hearing have diminished considerably, her mind and memory are still intact. A few weeks back, this writer sat down with her in her suite as she recalled a life filled with highs and lows and her many contributions to her community, both in Winnipeg and Fort William before that.
The daughter of Jack and Rebecca Avit, her life’s journey began in 1921 in a home on Carlton Street near Ellice Avenue, near her father’s furniture store. He later operated a cap factory.
When she was ten, the family – she had two brothers and a sister – moved to Manitoba Avenue in the old North End. “My father had put a deposit down on a house on Scotia,” she recalls. “But my parents didn’t feel that the neighbourhood was Jewish enough.”
Her schooling included Peretz School and, like so many of her generation, St. John’s Tech (as it was known back then.) “I was actually supposed to be going to Isaac Newton for high school,” she says. We were living on the wrong side of the tracks for St. John’s. After one day at Isaac Newton, I found a way to transfer to St. John’s.”
In 1940, 19-year-old Bessie Avit married Jack Gurevich, a young man from Fort William. The wedding was marred though, by the sudden, untimely passing of her father.
Following the wedding, Besse moved with her new husband to Fort William where Jack Gurevich worked in retail clothing sales. “We lived in Fort William for 20 years,” she says. “Our three children (Judy, Richard and Howard) were born there.”
She recalls that there were about 200 Jewish families – including her sister and one of her brothers for some years – in town, during the time she lived there. “We were very well known in the community,” she recalls. “I was involved in everything.”
Her community activism continued after the family’s return to her home town. While Jack went to work as a salesman for Western Glove Works, Besse became an indefatigable community volunteer. At one time or another, she served as vice-president of ORT, Hadassah and National Council of Jewish Women in Winnipeg. She was also a long time B’nai Brith member.
In the business world, the highlight of her career was the building of Linden Woods. “I became involved in real estate development for a time,” she recalls. “I was hired by Genstar to develop Linden Woods. The company estimated that it would take about 20 years to complete. I got it done in two.”
She also taught hair dressing for a while. “I worked with many young Jewish brides,” she says.
Recent years have not been kind to Besse Gurevich. Her beloved husband, Jack, died in 2016 – after almost 65 years of marriage. Older son, Richard, passed away in Vancouver in 2018 and, most recently –six months ago – younger son, Howard, followed. She notes that there were 200 mourners at Howard’s funeral.
(Howard Gurevich was in marketing for many years before turning his talents to the art world. In recent years, he was best known for Gurevich Fine Art in the Exchange District and his support of local artists.)
Besse Gurevich celebrated her 100th birthday – which took place at the height of the Covid shutdown – quietly.
While she used to enjoy reading. she is unable to do so any more. She can still listen to television.
And while she has few family members to visit her any more, she does have a group of friends interesting enough from the local theatre scene. For many years, she was a close friend of the late Doreen Brownstone, one of the leading figures in theatre in Winnipeg for more than half a century. Besse became part of the group that would visit Doreen every week and, since Doreen passed on three years ago, the members of the group have continued to visit Besse on a weekly basis.