Take Me to Your Leader

I was surprised to see the visage of a US president other than Obama. That is, a portrait of the only American head of state of equal iconographic significance. Painted on the surface of a section of the Berlin Wall, positioned outside the entrance to the European Union’s Brussels headquarters, Kennedy’s distant look particularly stood out.

Rock the Space Bar

The Elders of Zion have been quiet for the last three years. I’ve been the culprit, as I’ve had to focus on writing Israel vs. Utopia. With the exception of Basra Memorial Orchestra,  our contribution to the fourth edition of Fifteen Sounds of the War on the Poor (2009), we haven’t issued anything new since our Twilight War EP in December 2006.

On Friday, however, the Elders published their first DJ mix in Zeek. Longtime fans of Turkish psychedelia, we pieced together a forty minute jam, featuring our favorite tracks by artists such as Erkin Koray, Mogollar, and 3 Hürel. The audio is hosted by Soundcloud. You can listen to the mix on this page, or download an MP3 directly.

Italy for Jews

The death of Claude Lévi-Strauss last month came as a shock. I thought he’d live forever. I was equally surprised by the ambivalence with which his passing was observed.

So much so, that, seeing this display of his works last night, in the brightly lit basement of our local Feltrinelli store, I felt strangely relieved to be away from America.

“There’s no ambiguity here,” I thought to myself, as I repeatedly snapped pictures of this display, hoping to get the perfect shot.

Writing’s on the Wall

I shouldn’t have been surprised by an image of Mussolini appearing out of nowhere. Appropriated for god knows what, this Shepherd Fairey-like portrait (could Il Duce be the next Andre the Giant?) on Broome Street was an awkward way of telling me that I was getting closer to the so-called old country. My teenage stomping grounds, Manhattan, and, quite literally, home. In three days I’d be on a plane, flying back to Milan.

Live anywhere long enough, and you’re bound to encounter references to it wherever you go. When I arrived in DC on Monday, my cab driver turned out to be an Eritrean from Milan. “You  ever go to the Africa Restaurant?” he asked, name-checking my favorite dining spot in town. “Milano, I have lots of family there,” said the Dominican driver of the taxi I took to JFK on Friday. “Its the one place in Europe with Latinos, like here.”

These anecdotes wouldn’t mean anything if it weren’t for the fact that much of my book is dedicated to demonstrating that the distance between “here” and “there” is never quite what it seems. Even more so now, in reference to the movement of Arabs and Jews back and forth, between the Occident and Orient, between San Francisco and Tel Aviv.  Perhaps its the war that makes my version of this seem so much more important.

Milano Welcoming Committee

Pardon me if I seem a bit surprised. Having just gotten used to the sight of Italian army vehicles patrolling our neighborhood in search of illegal immigrants, imagine returning home after two weeks in the US to find the circus camped out instead. Corso Buenos Aires, 11/21.

All About the Hummus

Two weeks before the beginning of my book tour, I discovered that Amos Oz would be reading in San Francisco. Not just on any night, but the exact same evening that I’d be reading at my favorite local bookstore, City Lights Books.  ”There goes that event,” I remember telling Jennifer, as I braced myself for what I was convinced would be the single worst-attended event of my trip to the US.

No such luck. The room was filled to near-capacity. Even better, it was a repeat of the previous night, when I’d read to an equal number of people in Berkeley. Granted, Oz was reading at the JCC, and I was at an indie shop, but still. Even in the Bay Area, the readership for such Israel-focused work tends to be fairly specific. Watching folks take their seats, I was overcome by an enormous sense of relief.

Indeed, everything about the Bay Area leg of my trip proved to be positive. I’ll be the first to admit I was apprehensive, not just because of my fear of having to compete with much better-known writers, but because the most significant parts of Israel vs. Utopia’s treatment of the Diaspora is based upon my experience of San Francisco. I really wanted to be able to talk about it, in the city that defined it all for me.

To that end, I’ve been recording nearly every night of the tour so far. I haven’t had the opportunity to sit down and edit the recordings yet. However, this interview, conducted on San Francisco’s KALW last Wednesday, does a great job of summing it all up. Wait until you get to the part where we start taking callers, and the show’s host, Sandip Roy, brings up the issue of food.

The lack of complexity with which I explain that I approach the subject is precisely because of the intensity with which Americans have grown accustomed to relating to the Mideast conflict. Hence the rather unfortunate juxtaposition of adverts above, which I noticed as I waited for the train back to San Francisco following my first local reading, at Pegasus Books, in Berkeley. It’s very Bay Area.

Tour Spiel

Elliot Bay Book Co, 6;45 PM on Saturday. Twenty minutes before the first reading of my US tour gets underway.

Check out the review of the event posted this morning by Seattle’s Unlikely Outsider. Its a really thoughtful piece.

National Public Radio affiliate KUOW recorded the gig. I’ll post the date when I hear its scheduled for broadcast.

Frozen Pope

The last time I flew back to the US, I had the good fortune of ending up on a flight with the most remarkable video offerings I’d ever seen. News, (France 24), art house films, European sitcoms, the works. For once, I enjoyed having to sit still for twelve hours.

This time I had the exact opposite experience. Turning on the television following takeoff, this image, of the late Pope John Paul II, appeared. When I tried to change the channel, the screen froze. When I tried to turn off the TV, the display refused to darken.

For the next nine hours, every time I looked up from the book I was reading, this is the image I saw. All the way from Milan to New York.

Israel vs. Utopia

At this year’s Venice Biennale, the Israeli and American pavilions were situated right next to each other. In this photograph, Israel sits to the left, America to the right. “Israel” is written in Hebrew on the front of the Israeli pavilion.  The word “avarice” graces the left side of the US building, bordering Israel.

Higher Education

Locals observe the first anniversary of the credit crisis. Via Beroldo, late September.