Joel Schalit

Dead and Gone

It was to be the magazine’s first issue in quite a while. How long, I didn’t quite know. About the only thing that was clear was that an edition had previously been published out of Chicago, in the late 1990s.

The magazine was called LiP. It only made it seven issues. However, the relaunch turned out to be higher profile than that, at least locally (San Francisco) for the next three years. Hired as the managing editor, I didn’t even make it through my first production cycle. The money dried up immediately, and I left. Two months later, I landed the same gig, salaried, at Tikkun.

Several articles I solicited ended up getting published – an interview I did with the late Tanya Reinhart, a review essay by Jillian Sandell about the DVD release of Gillo Pontecorvo’s legendary Battle of Algiers. A couple of the staffers I recruited stuck around, too. The one article that never materialized was an essay I’d solicited about the conflict in Chechnya.

The subject was to have been the significance of the war for the American left. Why, following the Russian invasion of the country, was it not a topic of debate amongst domestic progressives? Was it because of a lack of expertise on Russian issues? A discomfort with having to talk about the Islamic identification of the separatists? I wanted to figure it out.

Unless I write the article myself, I’m probably never going to get any clarity on the issue. Seeing this graffiti (“Freedom for Chechnya”) in Neukolln, on Tuesday, certainly took me back. We’ll see for how long.

Never Heard of Them

For those familiar with the history of American Jewish magazines, my former employer, Tikkun, was not the first periodical of its kind to break with community publishing conventions. Starting in the 1970s, there were numerous such attempts, of which, until the early 00s, Tikkun was the most visible.

One such upstart periodical was  New York’s New Jewish Times, which ceased publication in 1981, five years before the launch of Tikkun. Remembered by journalist Samuel G. Freedman in Friday’s New York Times, my present editorial abode, Zeek, gets the descendents’ high five, together with our friends at Heeb.

Somebody ought to shine a similar spotlight on the late Davka.

Product Placement

I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve done a mediocre job of keeping track of my clips. Though I’ve kept copies of nearly all of the magazine articles I’ve written, most of the book reviews and all of the travel pieces I wrote for the San Francisco Bay Guardian between 2000 and 2004 vaporized when SFBG revamped it’s website.

In the midst of putting the finishing touches on a brand new personal site (including a Word Press replacement for this blog) I came across a PDF version of this collection of micro-reviews, Sikkum: Tikkun Recommends, that I wrote for the September/October edition in 2005.

Traditionally the domain of the magazine’s publisher, I ended up writing most of these interior back page book reviews my last year and a half as Tikkun’s managing editor. I’ll be posting a couple of more of these, including the color version we debuted with the magazine’s re-design in 2006, shortly.

Click on the image for greater detail.

The Song Remains the Same

The best stocked section (aside from the Health and Diet shelf) in San Francisco’s Green Apple Books bargain media annex.

Perhaps the single most frequently asked question posed by my interns at Tikkun was why we continued to receive so many books about Nazism and the Holocaust to review.

Indeed, every day, new books about the Shoah would inevitably outnumber arriving titles on Israel and Judaism. “It’s one of the occupational hazards of being a Jewish magazine,” was my stock reply.

Tanya Reinhart RIP

I just received word that Tanya Reinhart passed away this weekend in New York. She was sixty-three. What a terrible tragedy. My condolences go out to her family and friends. It was only today that I learned she’d moved to Manhattan towards the end of last year, in order to assume a teaching position at NYU.

Though I didn’t agree with all of her positions, Reinhart’s tireless efforts to end the occupation of the West Bank and the Gaza Strip are worthy of the utmost respect. In the last issue of Tikkun that I edited (Jan/Feb 2007), Jerome Slater wrote an absolutely outstanding meditation on Reinhart’s most recent book, The Road Map to Nowhere. You can read it here.

Aside from a brief email exchange we’d had in the Spring of 2005, the last time I talked to Reinhart was almost exactly three years ago, when I interviewed her for LiP Magazine. An eight hundred word excerpt ended up running in the Summer 2004 issue. I just found a copy of the unedited transcript, and thought these following words would be good to remember Reinhart by:

LiP: Is there an Israeli left at this point?

Reinhart: What’s been extremely encouraging – my ray of light in these bleak days – is to observe that in the young generation there is a movement of resistance that is completely new and courageous. It’s the same generation that got its roots in the anti-WTO demonstrations in Seattle. You first noticed it with the draft resistance movement, which is now bigger than it ever was.

Another amazing new development is that there is a whole new popular resistance movement initiated by Palestinian farmers along the line of the new fence whose land is being stolen by Israelis for the fence. Along that line, in village after village, you’ll find the entire village sitting on the ground in front of the bulldozers. Together with them you’ll find young Israelis.

For the first time in the history of the Occupation, you’ll find the Israeli army facing Palestinians and Israelis together sitting together defending Palestinian land. For me, it’s a big source of hope.

This blog entry can also be found on Alternet.

Authors, Friends

The nicest thing about being an editor are the relationships you forge with authors. By no means the first time I was reminded of this, (but definitely the first since I left Tikkun,) my former film editor decided to pay me a visit on Monday. The first time we’d actually met (after nearly three years of exchanging email and phone calls), Shai Ginsburg was out here on a brief break, determined to finally get together.

One of the best critics of Israeli film writing in English (in fact, the top right now), Shai added the kind of depth to our Israel coverage at Tikkun, which, in the form of film reviews, helped me obviate the magazine’s never-ending problems with being deemed too ‘anti-colonialist’ (to quote a right-wing friend of mine), in its historical emphasis on the occupation, to the exclusion of other forms of Israel analysis.

Much to my delight, as Shai and I walked down to San Francisco’s best Middle Eastern joint, the Old Jerusalem Restaurant, we ran into one of my longtime contributors, Other publisher and Choir Boy author Charlie Anders, whose work I’ve printed in both Punk Planet and Tikkun, as well as The Anti-Capitalism Reader. Strolling quickly by on Mission Street in one of her signature outfits, we almost missed her.

Thankfully, Charlie noticed us, and flagged me down. Introducing her to Shai, I explained that Charlie was the author of one of the more controversial religious pieces I commissioned at Tikkun, an article on transgendered Jews. Long in the making, Charlie’s piece was a terrific read, and had a kind of secular quality to it which is so lacking in most Jewish periodical coverage of the new queer spirituality scene.

Speaking of Tikkun, the magazine’s webmasters were kind enough to consolidate my infrequent blog entries into one URL. Not exactly god’s gift to the blogosphere, there’s still some stuff of interest. My last entry was in late December, when, despite my crazy schedule, I attempted to jot down some final thoughts on our Israel/Palestine coverage. Check it out. I’m sure I’ll be writing more on this greater subject in the future.

Bring the Noise: Drunks with Guns: Second Verses (Intellectual Convulsion, 1990)

Pimping Product

One of the many responsibilities I ended up assuming at Tikkun was writing six 100 word book reviews which we always printed on the interior back page of each new issue. Titled Tikkun Recommends (my last TR can be found in the present edition – Jan/Feb 2007) the purpose of the section was to promote books and publishers that we felt ought to receive special consideration, above and beyond the publications we’d review in the Books section of the magazine.

I particularly enjoyed writing these reviews, because, as Tikkun‘s culture editor,  there were always books I wanted to cover which we neither had the room nor the writers to tackle. As one of those many editors who wished they had more time to write, penning these short pieces always gave me something of an outlet for this frustrated desire. Having written numerous book reviews over the years – for the San Francisco Bay Guardian‘s Lit supplement and Punk Planet - this also allowed me to keep my review writing chops somewhat fresh.

The reason I mention all of this is because yesterday I wrote my first TR-style reviews for Zeek, the periodical that I recently joined as a contributing editor. As burnt out as I still am, it was nice to re-inhabit this style of writing, and push a few books which deserve attention. If you were to ask me precisely why I like to do these things, that pretty much nails it. There is so much excellent culture being produced right now – by writers, musicians, film directors, software designers, the works – that it feels almost like a categorical imperative to continue to support it all somehow.

This was always the modus operandi we worked with in terms of the bands and writers we covered when I was Punk Planet‘s associate editor. As a culture magazine, we channelled this ideological sensibility religiously, to a point that we treated our cultural coverage as though it were a political endeavor. By pointing our readers to productions that we felt were important, like many punks, we genuinely believed that we were creating some kind of cultural front out of which a better politics would emerge.

Upon sending out my reviews late yesterday afternoon, I recalled this political impulse and asked myself whether, ten years later, I still believed in it.  “Yes,” I muttered to myself, giggling. “If only because I’m still being asked to write the same things I’ve always written.”  Wondering if I was talking to them (and not myself), our two dogs got up from the carpet and started nuzzling my knees with their small furry heads, thinking that I was telling them it was time for dinner.

Currently in Rotation: Various Artists, Tectonic Plates (Tectonic Recordings/Baked Goods)

My New Job(s)

Its been nine days since I left Tikkun. Unwinding has not been easy. As I imagined, there would be email and calls to answer, and loose ends to help the accountant and staff sew up. I’d wager that at least three days were devoted to helping the office out, which is actually less time than I anticipated would be the case. Having spent six weeks at the office after resigning on November 22nd, I dedicated myself to wrapping up as much as humanly possible. I’m sure that there will be more calls and emails in the future. But for now, until the magazine hires a new managing editor, its my assumption that my major post-Tikkun work is complete.

Every time I find myself growing impatient with my inability to get going on my next projects faster – a book, a record and two essays – I always look back at my “To Do” list for December to remind myself of why I’m so damn beat. (That does not include the fatigue accumulated from having worked six days a week for two and a half years.) Ranging from IT, distribution and general business tasks to editorial planning, writing, updating the website and employee training, the six week period during which I undertook my concluding work sums up everything that made my former job so draining. I’m really grateful for the experience, but I’m also extremely relieved to be moving on.

The best part about being home is how comfortable it is to write in. Ever since we moved into our new house in San Francisco’s Bernal Heights neighborhood two years ago, unfortunately, given my work schedule, I’ve had a devil of a time finding any real occasion to spend time here. Every weekday morning, when I’d get up to make coffee before work, I’d stare into my beautiful office, wondering whether I’d ever get a chance to enjoy the space and take advantage of what it ideally could afford me. Lined with books and vinyl LPs, and a large desk bearing my home studio set-up, sitting in my decrepit Berkeley office, I’d frequently find myself daydreaming about importing old records bought at foreign flea markets into my rapidly aging computer.

Now that I’m truly here, I can’t say enough good things about it. The sun shines through my window for the better part of the day, giving my room some of the best light of any spot in the house. Sitting in my father’s old office chair, typing away while my favorite BBC shows stream through my Mac and my two dogs chill on the floor beside me, I can’t quite recall a time that I felt so at home. Really, anywhere. Though this definitely will not last forever -  essentially five months from today – it feels like I won the lottery. And I don’t feel the least bit guilty about this opportunity either.

As much as this all might seem like its about finally doing what one really wants to do, that’s not quite it. It’s about having a decent quality of life, and the time to take care of the kinds of things that we ignore, delay, or put off when we work sixty hours a week. Like spending time with one’s family, paying bills promptly, returning phone calls from friends (the same day, as opposed to two weeks later), and doing laundry.  And, most importantly, cooking dinner for my wife.  Seeing the smile on Jennifer’s face as she sat down to a freshly-grilled flank steak last night summed up exactly why this was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. All I can say in response is “Sweetie, there’s a lot more meat where that came from.”