On the left side of the ground-floor gallery at the Upper East Side’s Grolier Club — an institution that bills itself as “America’s oldest and largest society for bibliophiles” — you’ll find elaborately decorated, centuries-old Jewish manuscripts from the likes of Italy, France and the Iberian Peninsula.

On the right, there’s a similar assortment of manuscripts, also organized geographically. These manuscripts are remnants of dynamic Jewish communities that once existed in Muslim lands such as Yemen, North African and Iran/Iraq.

Collectively, these works form “Jewish Worlds Illuminated: A Treasury of Hebrew Manuscripts from The JTS Library,” the first-ever exhibition dedicated to Jewish books and manuscripts at the storied club, which was founded in New York City in 1884. 

On view through Dec. 27, the free exhibit is also the largest exhibition to date curated by the library of the Jewish Theological Seminary, which is home to one of the world’s largest collections of Hebrew manuscripts and printed materials. Among the 100 objects on view are documents that date as far back as the 12th century.  

The elaborately decorated works on display comprise a wide assortment of texts, such as prayer books, Passover haggadahs and ketubahs or Jewish marriage contracts. Most of them are written in Hebrew. But there are some stark differences between the two sides of the gallery: Human forms are plentiful in the manuscripts from Europe, for example, while works created by Jews in Muslim lands typically reflect the Islamic art style, with elaborate patterns, floral motifs and very few depictions of people. 

“Jews adopted and adapted the art of the country in which they lived,” Sharon Lieberman Mintz, curator of Jewish art at the JTS library, explained during a private tour. “When Jews were living in Islamic lands, they eschewed figural arts. There may have been a bird or two here and there, but not humans, with rare exception.”

Examples like these spotlight the ways Jews lived their lives throughout years of diaspora, and how they integrated themselves within their culture of residence. 

“If you look at the outstanding works in our collection — manuscripts in particular, but not just manuscripts — [they] reflect the geographical distribution that you see here,” said David Kraemer, the Joseph J. and Dora Abbell librarian and professor of Talmud and Rabbinics at the JTS. “It is notable, but not intentional, that we don’t have material here from the land of Israel.”

Kraemer continued: “What that means is that during the ages that these works were being produced, and from which they survive, this is where Jews lived,” he said. “Very, very few Jews lived in the land of Israel, and there was very little production of this kind of material in the land of Israel.”

Left: Abraham Judah ben Yehiel of Camerino’s “Rothschild Mahzor,” from Florence, Italy in 1490. Right: A page from “Sermons and Collected Teachings,” from 17th-century Salonica, Greece. (Courtesy the Library of the Jewish Theological Seminary).

Instead, the exhibit is filled with treasures from across the centuries and around the globe, including handwritten letters from the physician, rabbi, philosopher and author Moses ben Maimon — aka Maimonides. One such letter, penned in 1170 by Maimonides’ personal secretary, Mevorakh ben Nathan, is signed by the sage himself. It pleads for funds to ransom the Jews who were taken prisoner in November 1168 when the crusader king Amalric I of Jerusalem conquered the Egyptian city of Bilbeis, some 50 miles north of Cairo, which was home to a sizable Jewish community in the Middle Ages. 

“So much of what happens, Jewishly, in North America is Ashkenazi-centric, which misrepresents Jewish life and history around the world,” Kraemer said. “When Ashkenaz was barely a blip, the vast majority of the world’s Jews lived in Muslim lands.”

The exhibit makes it plain just how embedded Jews were into the countries in which they lived. In the Italy section, there’s a page displayed from the Rothschild Machzor, a prayer book written by master scribe Abraham Judah ben Yehiel in Florence in 1490. An illustration depicts the children of Israel receiving the Ten Commandments as they’re decked out in the Florentine fashions of the time — with the receding hairline that was all the rage in during the Renaissance.  

“When you look at these materials, you can’t just think of Jews as separated and isolated and ghettos and oppressed and all that kind of stuff,” Kraemer said. “That’s not what the story here is.”

Instead, the exhibit spotlights how Jewish communities reflected broader cultural trends, including fashion and art. 

Just don’t ask the curators to select their favorites. Kraemer and Liberman Mintz both blanched when asked to choose three or four standout items in the gallery. Instead, we settled on finding particularly unusual works on display.

“The answer changes every five minutes,” Kraemer explained.

As an example, Kraemer points to a 17th-century manuscript from Salonica, Greece that he describes as “absolutely wonderful in its outrageous combination.” The page, from a collection of sermons and teachings, is a scholarly theological discussion — specifically, about how Moses, who was flesh and blood, was able to ascend to the realm of God, who is pure spirit. By contrast, the illustrations on the page — animals, birds and flowers — seem like something from a children’s book. 

“Don’t we all somehow have those sensibilities built into us?” Kraemer mused. “We can be very, very sophisticated and very, very simple and childlike at the same time.” 

All told, the exhibit, said Kraemer, is meant to challenge misconceptions about how Jews lived their lives during centuries of diaspora life.  

“We have a lot of conceptions of what Jewish life was through the ages,” Kraemer said. “When one witnesses these materials — their splendor, their creativity, their embeddedness within the local culture, their languages, the visual language, all of that — it tells us that Jews and their neighbors were part of the same world.”

“In a world which has a very black and white vision of Jewish life and the relationship of Jewish life to the host cultures, this brings color to it,” Kraemer continued. “It wasn’t black and white. I mean both literally and figuratively — this brings color to the fullness of Jewish experience.”

“Jewish Worlds Illuminated: A Treasury of Hebrew Manuscripts from The JTS Library” is on view at The Grolier Club (47 East 60th St.) through Dec. 27. For more information, click here; to book a tour (highly recommended!) click here. 

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The post At a book-lovers’ mecca, a celebration of the Jewish Diaspora appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.

Robert Kaplow, a retired high school English teacher, has been publishing a monthly newsletter in Metuchen, a small New Jersey town a few miles southwest of Menlo Park, where Thomas Edison set up his laboratory. Kaplow can’t match Edison’s thousand plus patents but the 71-year-old writer has had an impressive creative output. Over the years, he’s churned out a play, a screenplay, nine novels and hours of radio comedy that gained a cult following on NPR.

One of his novels, Me and Orson Welles, was turned into a motion picture. His screenplay, Blue Moon, began life as a monologue and  tackles the tragic end of lyricist Lorenz Hart’s life. Kaplow worked on Blue Moon over the course of 14 years.

The film, directed by Richard Linklater, presents the unraveling of Hart’s musical theater career and serves up a glimpse of his sad personal life. Hart was gay but he wasn’t completely comfortable with his sexual identity. Based on actual correspondence that Kaplow bought at an estate sale, the screenplay presents the lyricist as a man infatuated with a college woman half his age. The movie opens with two quotes about Hart in an epigraph. The first describes the lyricist as “alert and alive and fun to be with.” The second refers to him as “the saddest man I ever knew.”

‘An extraordinary teacher’

Kaplow taught English and film at Summit High School in New Jersey for 34 years.

“He was an extraordinary teacher,” said Sally Ball, who was a high school student of Kaplow’s in the mid-1980’s and is now a published poet and an English professor at Arizona State University. “He lived the life of a writer. He really made a literary life seem like a living thing to me.”

Kaplow scored autographed pictures for his high school students of the actor Zac Efron, who starred in Me and Orson Welles. The 2004 novel was turned into a feature film by Linklater. Set in the 1930’s, it told the story of a New Jersey high school student who manages to snag a role in Welles’ groundbreaking production of Julius Caesar.

While he was teaching, Kaplow also made a mark in public radio with his alter ego, a comedic character named Moe Moskowitz. The wisecracking, loud-mouthed Moskowitz was the polar opposite of his soft-spoken creator. Billed as “America’s favorite entrepreneur,” Moskowitz brightened the airwaves on Morning Edition with wacky ideas and get-rich-quick schemes.

A gorilla comedian

Kaplow’s first foray into comedy and drama took place when he was ten. Encouraged by his father Jerome, he donned a full-face gorilla mask and casually looked out the window of the family sedan on the drive to the beach. The sight of the little gorilla in the backseat caused the occupants of other cars to do a double-take, which was often followed by an explosion of laughter.

That comedic impulse showed no sign of abating during his adolescence. On the first page of his prayer book, a Reform siddur, Kaplow provided a divine inscription: “Bob – Best of luck in the future (as if I didn’t know!) – God.”

In high school Kaplow and his friends, inspired by the trippy, multi-track comedy of Firesign Theater, wrote, performed and recorded what he called “little satirical theater pieces.”

When Kaplow attended Rutgers University, he spent most of his time in a band called The Punsters, which produced a weekly radio program of the same name. It featured a half-hour of original comedy, some of which Kaplow would eventually recycle for NPR.

‘The only prayer I know’

At family gatherings, Kaplow’s father, a car salesman, was always the life of the party. At the local White Castle where the counter women were Haitian, Jerome Kaplow would pretend he was a native French speaker when he ordered. And he performed cameos on his son’s radio comedy segments on NPR. When Jerome went to the hospital for an echocardiogram and a technician asked what he did for a living, the elder Kaplow replied: “I’m retired, but I used to be in show business.”

“My father had an ironic, absurdist sense of humor,” Kaplow told me. “I picked up so much from him.”

Jerome lived to 94, deriving much of his sustenance from Milky Way candy bars and gefilte fish, according to his son. Even when he could barely walk, Jerome insisted on going to shul on the High Holy Holidays.

“My father didn’t attend services because he was deeply religious,” Kaplow explained. “He attended because his father was deeply religious — and he felt the need to honor his father’s convictions.”

Religious observance seems to have declined with each generation of the Kaplow family but Robert Kaplow told me he does regularly go to the cemetery to place stones on the graves of his grandparents, mother, father and sister.

“Sometimes I mutter Shema Yisrael,” he told me. “It’s the only prayer I know.”

‘Kaplow’s gift’

When Kaplow was with The Punsters, they recorded a song titled “I Dreamt I Dreamt of Gefilte Fish,” in which Kaplow mimicked Bob Dylan singing about eating nothing but gefilte fish. In the 70-second ditty “Batman’s Going to a Bat-Mitzvah,” the caped crusader, we learn, is going to chow down on “rugelach and arugula.” A Moskowitz Home Companion,” Kaplow’s parody of A Prairie Home Companion, was sponsored by the fictional “Moskowitz’s Frozen Knishes.”

Kaplow says he was fired from NPR three times — first because Moe Moskowitz was deemed to be a Jewish stereotype, second, according to veteran Morning Edition producer Barry Gordemer, because “some people in the building didn’t think Moe was funny,” and lastly because Kaplow used the network’s logo without permission on a self-produced CD of his Morning Edition comedy segments. You can still find that CD (Cancel My Subscription: The Worst of NPR) on YouTube.

Jay Kernis, Morning Edition’s founding producer, was in Washington, D.C. when Kaplow was being interviewed about the song he sent in, “Steven Spielberg, Give Me Some of Your Money.” Out of the blue, Kaplan started talking in his Moe Moskowitz voice. Kernis called the control room in New York when the interview had concluded and asked Kaplow if he wanted to contribute original comedy to Morning Edition on a regular basis.

Kernis noted that back in the days when NPR aired original comedy and commentary on its newsmagazines, contributors tended to last a couple of years. Then, he said, either NPR producers or the audience grew tired of them. Kaplow lasted 17 years.

“Robert was inventive and he was funny,” Kernis told me. “He was a great performer and a great sound producer.”

“Moe Moskowitz always made me laugh, but also sometimes put a catch into my throat,” Weekend Edition host Scott Simon wrote in a text. “Robert has a gift — an art, really — for putting character into what might otherwise seem a caricature.”

‘An old-fashioned human being’

Kaplow and Richard Linklater kept in touch after Me and Orson Welles had its theatrical run in 2008. When Kaplow mentioned that he had written a monologue about Rodgers and Hart, Linklater asked to read it and, afterwards, shared it with the actor Ethan Hawke, who he tapped to play Lorenz Hart.

Kaplow completed the first draft of the Blue Moon screenplay in the Summer of 2011. In the ensuing years Linklater and Hawke worked with Kaplow on revising it, right up to and during the shoot last summer in Ireland where Kaplow joined them on set.

“We were a good band together,” Hawke told me.

The film takes place on one night in 1943 at Sardi’s, the theater district restaurant, as Hart’s songwriting partner Richard Rodgers basks in the opening night raves of Oklahoma!, Rodgers’ first collaboration with his new writing partner Oscar Hammerstein II.

Hart was struggling with alcoholism and depression during the time the film depicts. He died eight months after the Oklahoma! opening at the age of 48.

“It is hard for us to look at people in pain,” Hawke told me. “People in pain often behave badly, so they’re unlikable. But we have all been that person. We’ve all struggled with the green-headed monster of jealousy. We’ve all been worried that our best days are behind us.”

Linklater said one of the triumphs of Kaplow’s screenplay is that it managed to convey empathy for Lorenz Hart.

“I’m proud that 82 years later we’re honoring him and his contribution to our world,” Linklater said of the lyricist. “There’s no one else like him.”

Hawke described Robert Kaplow as “an old-fashioned human being,” which isn’t surprising given Kaplow’s love of the American songbook, especially its golden age. When he was in his 20’s, Kaplow was so enamored of the Tin Pan Alley era that he wanted to write music for theater.

“When you look at the songwriters of the 1930s and 40s, with the exception of Cole Porter, they’re almost all Jewish,” Kaplow told me. “Rodgers and Hart, Kern, Arlen, Julie Styne and Sammy Cahn. I don’t have an explanation for why, but I feel a little bit like I’m part of that. Whatever that cultural DNA is, I have a little of that.”

The post How a Jewish schoolteacher from New Jersey made it to Hollywood and Broadway at the same time appeared first on The Forward.

Released Israeli hostage, Omri Miran, held in Gaza since the deadly Oct. 7, 2023, attack by Hamas, embraces his father, Dani Miran, after his release as part of a ceasefire deal between Israel and Hamas, in Reim, Israel, Oct. 13, 2025. Photo: Israel Defense Forces/Handout via REUTERS

Israeli hostages who returned from Gaza on Monday began giving structured accounts of their captivity that described torture, starvation, prolonged isolation, confinement in underground cages, and efforts by their Hamas captors to convert them to Islam. 

Several freed hostages said they were kept alone for months at a time with little food or light. Avinatan Or, abducted from the Nova music festival in October 2023, spent more than two years in isolation and saw other hostages only at the point of release. An initial medical examination found he had lost between 30 percent and 40 percent of his body weight and relatives said he had been “starved and terrified” for extended periods, Israel’s Channel 12 reported. 

Or was reunited with his girlfriend, former hostage Noa Argamani, who was released in a rescue operation by the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) in June 2024, along with three other hostages. He did not know about Argamani’s fate until his release. The two were featured in a viral video filmed by Hamas of their kidnapping, becoming symbols of the acts of terrorism of that day. 

Hamas-led Palestinian terrorists from Gaza kidnapped 251 hostages and murdered 1,200 people during their invasion of and rampage across southern Israel on Oct. 7, 2023. All the living hostages still in captivity were released on Monday as part of the US-brokered ceasefire deal to halt fighting between Israel and Hamas in Gaza. However, the Palestinian terrorist group has still not handed over the remains of 19 deceased hostages, violating its obligation under the agreement to release everyone who was abducted during the Oct. 7 atrocities.

Relatives of one of the living hostages freed this week, Omri Miran, 48, said he had been held in 23 separate places above ground and in tunnels. His brother Nadav said Miran remained roughly aware of the days and how much time had passed. There were long stretches in which guards passed the time alongside him. “Sometimes he would cook food for his captors, and they loved his cooking,” Nadav said, adding that some guards used Hebrew to communicate and that card games filled parts of the day. Miran, a father of two, returned home this week and was filmed playing with his daughters. His brother said he “looks pale, but his sense of humor is the same.”

Other accounts focused on the loss of time and physical restraint. Elkana Bohbot, 36, who worked at the Nova festival, told his wife he had been chained in a tunnel for most of his captivity and that the lack of sunlight erased any sense of day or date, except for the date of his wedding anniversary in which he insisted on a shower. His terrorist guard at first refused, then removed his chains and showered him. At times he said he was shown images of rallies and public appeals by his family seeking his release.

Reports from the families described harsher treatment during the early phase of captivity and in the weeks before release. The mother of 22-year-old Matan Angrest, a soldier, said her son had faced “very severe torture” in the initial months. “He remembers being beaten so badly that he lost consciousness,” she said. She described guards dragging him while covered in black sacks and tunnel walls collapsing around him during fighting above ground. In the last four months he was confined to a small, dark tunnel under “special guard,” she said. 

According to his mother, captors told Angrest that Israelis had given up on the hostages and that Hamas had conquered Israel and were planning “the next Oct. 7.” They also falsely claimed his Holocaust survivor grandparents were dead. Learning that they were alive after his return “motivated” him, she said.

Families also cited changes in the way some hostages were handled as ceasefire talks advanced. Ilan Dalal, father of Guy Gilboa-Dalal, said he had been held in a tunnel with another hostage, Evyatar David, until about a month ago, after which he was moved separately and then held in another tunnel with a different hostage, Alon Ohel, until release. His son had been “force-fed” in recent weeks, likely the result of international outcry after Hamas released footage showing an emaciated David being forced to dig his own grave.

Accounts from twins Gali and Ziv Berman, snatched from Kfar Aza, said they were held separately in total isolation and were unaware the other was alive. It was the longest time the twins had ever spent apart. They told family members there were times of food scarcity and times when more food was available. Some guards spoke Hebrew. The twins said that while underground they could hear IDF activity nearby but could not determine where they were or what was happening above ground.

Religious coercion featured in the account of Rom Braslavski, who was held largely in isolation by the Palestinian Islamic Jihad terrorist group, according to his mother, Tami. She told Israel’s Channel 13 news that he “suffered abuse” but she declined to elaborate further. She said guards demanded that he convert to Islam and promised better treatment if he read the Quran or observed Ramadan fasts. He refused, she said, and upon release “kept saying, ‘I am Jewish … I am strong,’ and he put on tefillin,” referring to small leather boxes with straps traditionally wrapped on one’s head and arm at the start of weekday morning prayers.

Tami Braslavski described psychological tactics that included false claims that “Iran bombed Israel” and stitched footage designed to convince him his parents had abandoned him.