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At a live event with Netflix’s ‘Jewish Matchmaking,’ fans of the show find their people
(New York Jewish Week) — Aleeza Ben Shalom, star of the Netflix hit “Jewish Matchmaking,” stood in the middle of a tight circle of fans — both men and women, young and old — doling out dating advice. Maintaining the same warmth she displays on her TV show, Ben Shalom spoke to as many people as she could as mothers pushed their daughters to the front of the line, single women hung on her every word and superfans asked for hugs and selfies.
Ben Shalom, who lives in Israel, was in New York on Wednesday night to make an appearance at a promotional, sold-out event for the series as well as her book, “Get Real, Get Married.” Some 200 people filled the auditorium at The Town School on the Upper East Side, having paid $54 for a ticket (or $72 if they wanted to attend the VIP meet-and-greet beforehand).
“Thanks everybody for watching the show — you watched the show right? We can’t get a season two unless you watched all the episodes,” Ben Shalom quipped as she greeted the crowd from the auditorium’s stage.
A dating reality show, “Jewish Matchmaking” premiered on Netflix on May 3 to much fanfare. Created by the same team behind the streaming service’s hit “Indian Matchmaking,” “Jewish Matchmaking” spotlights a diverse group of Jews who are looking for love in Israel and across the United States. Viewers watch as Ben Shalom tries to set folks up with their bashert — soulmate — and explains Yiddish/Hebrew words and Jewish customs while doling out gentle, sensible dating advice.
In a short time, the eight-episode series has developed a loyal fan base, while reviewers have called “Jewish Matchmaking” “smart and sweet.”
As for the reason for the show’s success, “There’s everything from the girl that doesn’t want to marry someone that eats bacon, to someone like me who wants someone that prays three times a day in shul,” Brooklynite Fay Brezel, one of the show’s Orthodox stars, told the New York Jewish Week. “I think that’s what people really love about the show: It makes everybody proud to be Jewish no matter where you are with it.”
On Wednesday, Ben Shalom and Brezel were joined onstage by several other members of the cast, including Shaya Rosenberg, whom Brezel briefly dated on the show, as well as Miami resident and eyebrow expert Dani Bergman; Sephardic event organizer David Behar of Miami; Los Angeles-based “unicorn” Harmonie Krieger; outdoorsy Noah Dreyfus of Denver (and Jackson Hole) and Chicago musician Stuart Chaseman.
Aleeza Ben Shalom, fifth from left, with cast members from her hit Netflix show “Jewish Matchmaking,” on stage at The Town School, May 17, 2023. (Julia Gergely)
As for the audience, it skewed female — though like the cast of the show, they represented a diverse cross-section of Jews, including Sephardic, Israeli and Ashkenazi, as well as Reform, haredi Orthodox and everything in between.
Attendees’ reasons for buying a ticket to the event were just as varied. One woman, who wished to remain anonymous, said she came to the event because the show moved her so much. “I am not a reality TV person at all,” she said. “I just felt so inspired by the show. Aleeza was such a warm, positive presence to see on Netflix, and she gave me so much hope for myself that I’ll be able to find someone and so much hope for the Jewish people.”
And yet the woman, who lives in New York, said she also hoped to ask Ben Shalom for dating advice.
Others came to meet and praise their favorite cast members. “I have never felt more validated in my life,” one viewer gushed to Bergman. (Bergman, for her part, told the New York Jewish Week that hearing such sentiments has been the best and most unexpected part of the show.)
More than a few single women were sent to the event at the behest of their worried Jewish parents. “I’m young, I’m 24, I have a lot of great things going on in my life,” said Yael Chanukov, a Manhattan-based actress who recently appeared in two episodes of “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. “But my parents are so concerned about me finding someone. They bought me the ticket, sent me the email confirmation and said I had to ask Aleeza for advice.”
Chanukov came solo, though she said she would have brought her roommate if she had been in town. “I really loved the show, so I am happy to be here regardless,” she added.
Another woman who wished to remain anonymous said that her parents in Long Island watched the show and immediately bought her tickets to the event, telling her she had to talk to Ben Shalom about her dating life. “I had nothing going on tonight and I live nearby. I’m single, so I figured, why not?” she shrugged. “Anything could help.”
As for the advice Ben Shalom gave her? “She told me to stay open and stay hopeful,” the woman said.
Sacha-Aviva Sellam, 30, came because she was inspired by the diversity of Jewish experiences on the show. “I loved the show and found it very relatable,” Selam, who is of North African descent, told the New York Jewish Week. “[Ben Shalom] had a sensibility for all Jews, and Netflix was careful to include and uplift everyone — not just the ultra-Orthodox or the stereotypical ‘bagels and lox’ Jewish experience, which is not me.”
“I’m not here specifically because I’m single, but would I like it very much if I happened to meet someone here somehow? Of course,” she joked.
During the event, guests got to hear from the cast about their favorite parts of the show — for Brezel, it has been messages to her that people have become more observant after watching. “When was the last time that you heard somebody say that they are going to be more careful with mitzvot after watching something on Netflix?” she said. “I don’t think that’s ever happened.”
Behind-the-scenes details that weren’t filmed or didn’t make the final cut were also shared — like Krieger’s vulnerable, late-night calls with Ben Shalom; Dreyfus taking Ben Shalom on a six-mile hike in Jackson Hole; Brezel’s mother baking the production team cookies in Brooklyn, and Ben Shalom helping Bergman hang a mezuzah on the doorpost of her Miami home.
During a Q&A session, everything was on the table. One man jokingly asked Bergman to rate his eyebrows — she gave him a solid 7.5. A young woman of Orthodox background asked Brezel how to be more vulnerable with matchmakers. The answer? It’s not necessary, Brezel responded, unless they are someone with whom you have a genuine connection — like Ben Shalom.
Of course, Ben Shalom delivered on what had brought so many there that evening: She shared her best dating tips, including that connection starts the moment you walk in the room — so present your best self inside and outside. She even brought some audience members on the stage for live matchmaking. Four volunteers from the audience — all women — were invited on stage; other audience members asked questions about their lives and dating preferences. After a few rounds of questions, Ben Shalom asked if anyone in the room knew of a good match — and, Jewish geography being what it is, four women headed into the evening with the contact information of three or four potential dates.
“I didn’t think I’d have so much fun during this experience — I feel like I’m more of like a type-A personality but [“Jewish Matchmaking”] really brought out my fun side,” Brezel, who brought friends and family friends to the event, told the New York Jewish Week. “Everywhere I go people are stopping me and asking for selfies. It’s such a crazy experience.”
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For the Jews of Venice, an uneasy history of scapegoating and grudging tolerance
The First Ghetto: Venice and the Origins of Modern Antisemitism
By Alexander Lee
Basic Books, 432 pages, $34
When one thinks of Venice and the Jews, the first figure that probably comes to mind is Shylock, literary history’s famous Jewish villain, a moneylender who demands a “pound of flesh” from the titular character in Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice.
In Alexander Lee’s new book, The First Ghetto: Venice and the Origins of Modern Antisemitism, Shylock is mentioned just twice, both times in the introduction, but his ghost hovers over the pages of the book. Much of Lee’s historical account of Jewish life in Venice is devoted to Jewish moneylenders, and the key role they played in keeping Venice’s economy afloat.
The First Ghetto centers on the uneasy and guarded relationship that the Venetian government and its Christian people — first as the Venetian Republic and later as part of the Italian nation — always had with its Jewish population. According to Lee’s account, Venice didn’t want the Jews, but it needed them, largely for their ability to provide credit.
As he tracks the rise and fall of the Venetian Ghetto across more than six centuries, from Venice’s first Jewish visitor in 1315 through the fateful deportation of its Jewish citizens in the Holocaust, Lee’s focus is so narrowly limited to the fluctuations of finance that he very nearly makes the word “Jew” synonymous with “moneylender” or “pawnbroker.”

That’s a pity, because readers can be left with the impression that the primary role Jews played in the life of the city nicknamed “La Serenissima” — the most serene place — was financial.
“More than once, the Ghetto’s Jews helped keep the Venetian economy from collapse,” writes Lee, an Italian Renaissance scholar at the University of Warwick who has previously published four books, including Machiavelli: His Life and Times. “They founded no fewer than eight glittering synagogues, each a masterpiece of its kind, founded innumerable charities, and administered their own affairs with democratic probity.”
There is, of course, validity to the argument that the Venetian brand of capitalism that emerged in the late Middle Ages and sustained the city through the 20th century was reliant on Jewish labor. Since the mid-12th century, the Catholic Church had prohibited usury, loans offered with interest. But this rule only applied to Christians lending to Christians. They could, however, take out interest-bearing loans from Jewish moneylenders, who were permitted to lend and borrow without, apparently, incurring sin.
The precarious arrangement proved, over time, to be mutually beneficial for the Venetians and the Jews. As long as they were supporting the city’s financial needs, Jews were tolerated — even as they were isolated, overtaxed and frequently attacked. When the Venetians had less of a need for Jewish resources, cruelty against them spiked. They were blamed for most of the city’s woes, including the Black Death, the loss of wars, and various forms of spiritual corruption.
Even if Jews’ contributions were valued by some, the majority of Venice’s Christians “still harbored a horror of moneylending in Venice itself — and almost all regarded Jews with unconcealed hostility,” Lee writes. To balance this necessity against their antipathy, Jews were permitted to live in Venice, as long as they remained apart. Thus the Venice Ghetto was born.
Beginning in 1516, they were segregated to an island of their own on the dilapidated site of a former municipal cannon foundry, Ghetto Nuovo, surrounded by high walls and an iron gate. They were constrained in cramped conditions, and allowed to associate with Christian residents only for business purposes, in daytime. They were marked as outsiders wherever they traveled within the city by a yellow circular patch on their clothing, and an oddly shaped yellow hat.
“The Ghetto was simply the easiest way of allowing Jewish loans to keep flowing,” writes Lee, “while keeping the spiritual ‘risks’ [of associating with Jews] to a minimum.”
Although Jews had been segregated and harassed in other settings for centuries, Venice’s Ghetto was a precursor of the many Jewish ghettos that would later be created throughout Europe. The word ghetto, borrowed from Venice, later “shed its purely Jewish connotations,” Lee writes, and became “shorthand for vulnerability, poverty and powerlessness,” in the living conditions of any minority group.
The first 150 pages of The First Ghetto track the vicissitudes of the explotive financial partnership between Venice and its largely captive population of a couple thousand Jewish residents. The periods of time when Jewish life could be conducted with some sense of security and ease were offset by periods of blame, harassment, and threats of expulsion. But, as Lee argues, the story of Venice’s Jews is one of resilience and survival.
Shakespeare penned The Merchant of Venice between 1596 and 1598, in a period that Lee describes as the Ghetto’s “Golden Age, 1589-1630.” Yet precisely why the character of Shylock emerged in England in this period or how the play related to the true conditions of moneylending and commerce are unfortunately never discussed.
Culture and humanity are strikingly absent from Lee’s account of the history of the Venice Ghetto. Lee notes that the inhabitants of the Ghetto were “poets and scientists, musicians and philosophers; they put on plays and held festivals; and they transformed Venice into the greatest center for Hebrew printing in the world.”
But, apart from a detailed account of the genesis of the book trade, Lee offers little description of these poets and scientists or philosophers, nor does he provide much insight into the daily life experienced in the Venice Ghetto. I yearned for a more vivid sense of how the Ghetto’s people passed their time, what they ate, how they socialized or practiced religious observance — and how they responded to the discrimination they faced.
The book’s subtitle, Venice and the Origins of Modern Antisemitism, suggests that Lee might dive into the genesis of antisemitic tropes or ideas — why did Christian Venetians believe that Jews ate babies, for example? — but this kind of analysis isn’t provided. Instead, Lee seems to regard antisemitism as a given, a force of nature that merely fluctuates depending on the conditions of the time.
“By 1630,” writes Lee, “Venice was the best place in the world to be a Jew.” And, “Anyone could see that the Ghetto was indispensable to Venice.” The bright moment didn’t last long, however, as that same year, the city was hit by a plague that took about a third of its population. Because they were still relatively isolated, the Jewish community lost only about 15% of its residents, but the larger city’s “glory days were now numbered,” Lee writes. “There would be no recovery — only a gradual slide into irrelevance.”
In 1797, Napoleon Bonaparte marched into Venice and forced its leaders to abdicate, effectively ending the Venetian Republic, and declared all its residents equal. The walls of Venice’s Ghetto were finally torn down; its gates were carried to the town square, smashed to bits, and burned. A member of the national guard, Raffaele Vivante, jumped up and gave a speech. “Here you have toppled the terrible doors which held our Nation as if locked up in a prison,” he cried, and then, as Lee writes, “The dancing went on till dawn.”
In the 1930s and 40s, under Mussolini’s fascist reign, the Venetians’ long-simmering hatred of its Jews rose to a boil. As the Jewish community was still small and somewhat contained, in spite of early 20th-century integration, it was easy to identify and decimate. The emptying of the Ghetto, handled here in about ten pages, resulted in the removal of around 2,100 people in 1943 and 1944, of whom hundreds were murdered.
In the 21st century, while the waves of antisemitism have once again crested, the notion that to be Jewish is to be linked to moneylending, banking, and usury has, sadly, gained new currency. Although this is not the only issue Lee touches upon, I wondered while reading the book if it was truly useful to hammer home this connection once again.
As I read Lee’s history, waiting for a better sense of the dimensions of humanity in the Ghetto, a line from the Merchant of Venice kept popping into my mind: “If you prick us, do we not bleed?” I would have liked to have seen a slightly more sanguine touch on these pages.
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British Museum postpones a Jewish Culture Month lecture, citing ‘disruption’ concerns
(JTA) — The British Museum has canceled a lecture titled ‘‘Ancient Israel and Judah” that was scheduled to take place today on its premises.
In a statement on Wednesday, the museum said the decision was made because it was informed in recent days that “a significant proportion of registered attendees were individuals intending to deliberately disrupt the event.”
The event was supposed to be jointly led by members of the museum’s senior curatorial team alongside organizers from Jewish Culture Month, with the lecture presented by Dr. Paul Collins, the museum’s Keeper of the Department of the Middle East.
Jewish Culture Month is the first event of its kind in the United Kingdom, organized by the Board of Deputies of British Jews. The festivities opened on May 15 and run through June 16, and include more than 100 events celebrating Jewish heritage, creativity and culture across the U.K.
Major British institutions including the British Library, Tate Modern, Victoria and Albert Museum and the BBC are participating.
The British Museum said it was only postponing and not canceling the event, stating the decision was a joint one “made following conversations with organisers and security partners.” The museum added that the decision was made “to protect the event — not diminish it.”
British Museum Assistant Press Officer Lucy McDonald told JTA that the museum could not comment on “operational or security arrangements” and referred to the statement saying that the event would be rescheduled “to a later date when it can take place in an environment that properly safeguards both the audience experience and the integrity of the programme itself.”
The Board of Deputies of British Jews responded with a statement saying, “It is highly regrettable that individuals have sought to deliberately disrupt a Jewish Culture Month event celebrating Jewish cultural heritage at the British Museum.” A spokesperson for the Board told JTA they could not comment further.
At the launch earlier this month, Board of Deputies Acting President Adrian Cohen said the events were designed for Jewish and non-Jewish community members alike because “British Jewish culture is not something that exists in isolation.”
Board of Deputies Director of Culture, Education and Communities Liat Rosenthal added, “Jewish culture has never been something sealed behind glass. It is a living culture. An argumentative culture. A hospitable culture. A culture of memory and reinvention. Of stories carried across borders and generations, then remade anew.”
The museum’s postponement of the event is a blow to London’s Jewish community, which has weathered rising antisemitic incidents since the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas attack on Israel.
Shimon Cohen, the campaign director for Shechita UK, an organization that advocates for the Jewish ritual of kosher animal slaughter, told JTA in a statement, “Why has our country descended into mob rule? Why are we signaling that intimidation, vitriolic abuse, and violence against Jews works?”
“The British Museum can ‘celebrate the contribution of our communities’ except the Jewish community,” said Cohen. “Instead, their message is clear: let them cower, be cancelled, and be exposed, through the cowardice of our passivity, to ever more hatred, and why? Simply because Jews don’t count!”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
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In Miami, rekindling the Black-Jewish alliance that Clarence Jones insisted never died
The day before the March on Washington in 1963, a man who embodied much of what that civil rights action was all about left this world. The march went on, and changed history, in dedication to the life and work of W. E. B. Du Bois. During it, the NAACP’s Roy Wilkins told the crowd, of Du Bois, that “his was the voice that was calling to you to gather here today in this cause.”
A similar scenario is unfolding in Miami today with the start of a major convening of groups committed to the Black-Jewish alliance. It comes in the shadow of the death of Clarence B. Jones, a lawyer and speechwriter for Martin Luther King, Jr., who embodied that alliance and its cause for much of his life. He died last Friday at 95.
Chairman emeritus of the Black-Jewish alliance group Spill the Honey, and long cemented in history as the legal mind behind King’s protest strategies who also contributed passages to the “I Have a Dream” speech, Jones would vociferously argue that despite endless fissures, the alliance never ended.
That is a position I too have long maintained, particularly because a major part of the alliance is acknowledging the existence and power of Black Jews. As I and so many others tirelessly repeat, the two groups are not mutually exclusive. It’s a misnomer to say “Blacks” and “Jews” when each group overlaps with the other.
And if the alliance did die sometime during the last 30 or 40 years, did my existence and that of every other Black Jew not get the memo?
Our reality hasn’t stopped others from restarting the alliance with all the patentability of reinventing the wheel. I’ve lost count over the years of how many times a new Blacks-and-Jews group — again, usually ignoring Black Jews — would form as if it alone had the answer to whatever discord was then going on, from disputes over affirmative action after the Supreme Court’s 1978 Bakke decision to the latest over Israel’s horrific actions in Gaza and Lebanon.
That led me and Bruce Haynes, author of The Soul of Judaism and an African American professor who recently discovered his Jewish ancestry, to wonder last February if it was time to form an umbrella organization for all the organizations so dedicated.
While we discussed it, others were mobilizing.
An influential — and funded — group was already working on exactly that, calling for the National Convening of the Black-Jewish Alliance in Miami this week. Organizers include the Redstone Family Foundation and the EXODUS Leadership Forum, founded by CNN commentator Van Jones.
At 95, Clarence Jones would not have made the trip. But Spill The Honey, the organization he recently chaired and for which Haynes and I both serve as board members, is also among coalition partners.
Nearly 100 Black, Jewish, and Black Jewish leaders (this time, we’re being heard) will gather in what will be a show of unity merely in all of us being together, even if we don’t agree on everything. No coalition does, and those that do succeed (think of the not-always-comfortable bedfellows of the civil rights and labor groups that pulled off the March On Washington) do so despite their differences. What’s important is that we’ll be in the room together.
Will it work? Who knows. The alliance has always been rocky, even if it has also always survived.
And don’t count Clarence Jones out yet. His spirit will definitely be with us, which he foreshadowed in a conversation we had in the Forward three years ago.
“When I die, I’m coming back Jewish,” he said.
“But still Black?” I asked.
“Absolutely!”
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