| by Martha
Mendelsohn - Special To The Jewish Week
On a recent Friday afternoon Tzvi Schapiro, the new owner of
Judaica Treasures and JT Cafe on West 72nd Street, serves Shaul
Robinson, a Modern Orthodox rabbi from London, a bowl of lentil
soup. Then Schapiro, a Lubavitcher chasid, helps a student at the
Jewish Theological Seminary select a challah board and waits on a
non-observant telecom expert who is buying “the glass” for his
sister’s wedding to a Baptist. (A Reform rabbi will officiate with a
priest.)
“I’m learning the nuances of the community,” says Rabbi Robinson, as
he pores over a certain pre-eminent Jewish newspaper.
Tonight he will lead his first service as the probable new rabbi at
Lincoln Square Synagogue. Rabbi Robinson has been concerned about
rising anti-Semitism in England.
“I’m moving here because I think it will mean a better life for my
family,” he says.
The rabbi has come to the right place: the Jewish friendly Upper
West Side, where traditional Judaism crosses paths with conventional
or eccentric variations. You can send your child to an Orthodox,
Conservative, Reform or nondenominational day school; catch a
daytime lecture on “Judaism, Physics and God” or an evening
performance by the Hip Hop Hoodios (Jewish-Latino musicians) at the
Makor/Steinhardt Center of the 92nd Street Y on 67th Street; and do
laps in the pool at the Jewish Community Center in Manhattan on 76th
Street, or immerse ritually (if you’re the right gender) in the
mikveh at the West Side Women’s Club on 78th Street.
“There’s been a flowering of Jewish life here,” says Rabbi Carol
Levithan, senior director of learning, outreach and adult programs
at the JCC as she strolls home on Shabbat from Ansche Chesed
at West End Avenue and 100th Street, greeting friends from Ohab
Zedek (Orthodox), B’nai Jeshurun (not affiliated, Conservative
prayerbook) and the Society for the Advancement of Judaism
(Conservative/ Reconstructionist).
Rabbi Levithan belongs to Ansche Chesed’s Minyan M’at. With
140 families, it’s not so little anymore. Page numbers aren’t
announced — they’re not necessary for the well-versed men and women
davening in multi-hued tallitot and kipot, many of whom are rabbis
and leaders in Jewish educational and communal organizations.
Ansche Chesed was at the vanguard of the lay-led prayer group
movement that sparked an explosion of independent minyans in West
Side synagogues, churches and private apartments from Kehilat Orach
Eliezer (serious davening and sensitivity to women’s issues) to
Kehilat Hadar (egalitarian, Conservative vibe) to Darkhei Noam (mechitza,
but women read Torah) to Kol Zimrah (singing, musical instruments),
and more.
“The library minyans and the living room minyans are all heavily
indebted” to the people who revived the moribund Ansche Chesed
in the late 1970s by creating different groups ”under a community
umbrella,” says Rabbi Jeremy Kalmanofsky, spiritual leader of
Ansche Chesed.
Rabbi Kalmanofsky leads the Sanctuary Minyan, but pops into the
others (the West Side Minyan and Minyan Rimonim meet on alternate
Saturdays).“The Ansche Chesed tradition is that there is no
‘main’ minyan,” he says.
At Ansche Chesed’s children’s service, Eva Fogelman, a member
of Minyan M’at, kvells as her son, Adam Fogelman Chanes, 9, leyns
from Leviticus.
“I only practiced two or three times this morning,” Adam says.
Adam, whose favorite subject is mishna, learned to read Torah at the
Beit Rabban Day School on 70th Street off Central Park West, where
he is in fourth grade. Occupying cozy, cheerful quarters at the
community house of the Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue, the school,
which is not affiliated with a particular denomination, has
mixed-grade classes and daily Hebrew immersion classes. Founded in
1991, it opened a kindergarten two years ago, and plans to start a
middle school.
Beit Rabban families “are ones who come from a whole spectrum of
religious affiliations, but for whom Jewish life and learning are
absolutely central,” says Jo Sassienie, the school’s British-born
principal, while a group of girls and boys snacks on grapes b’ivrit.
“We picked the school because we’re interested in Jewish literacy,”
says Fogelman, an author and psychologist, “but not to learn by rote
— to be questioning and creative.”
A few blocks away, at the Drisha Institute’s airy new quarters on
67th Street, executive director Daniela Weiss ushers a visitor into
a sun-splashed room with bookshelves and long, blond wood tables.
“It’s a wonderful sight to see a women’s beit midrash,” Weiss
marvels.
When it was founded 26 years ago, “this was the only place for women
to study on an advanced level,” Weiss says. Now that others have
followed its lead, Drisha is taking on new challenges.
There are men at Drisha tonight. Ben Sandler and his wife, Shuli,
are co-teaching a new course for engaged couples on Judaism’s view
of sex and the laws relating to a woman’s menstrual cycle.
“We challenged the notion of how couples had always been taught,”
says Shuli Sandler, a graduate of the Scholars’ Circle at Drisha.
Traditionally a rabbi instructed the groom, and the rebbetzin the
bride.
“We thought, why not teach them together?” Shuli Sandler says.
Rabbi Mark Wildes, founder and director of the Manhattan Jewish
Experience, says “there’s such an established, vibrant Jewish
community here, you sometimes think there’s no more work to be
done.”
The Manhattan Jewish Experience is a 7-year-old outreach program of
Friday night dinners and beginners’ services for young professionals
with little or no Judaic background supported by The Jewish Center,
where it is based, and by a UJA-Federation of New York continuity
grant.
(UJA-Federation’s 2002 New York City population study showed that
only 30 percent of the Upper West Side’s 59,400 Jews belonged to a
synagogue, and the intermarriage rate of 35 percent was higher than
the rest of the metropolitan area.)
“It’s easy to fill the room with Jews — good food and good beer, and
you’re good to go,” Rabbi Wildes says.
But to keep them coming, he says, you need “authentic Jewish
content,” which MJE provides at its new Monday Night Lounge. (At a
recent meeting, socializing was followed by a discussion of
disengagement in Gaza.)
MJE participants are among the 1,000 people who pour into The Jewish
Center on 86th Street every Shabbat. The Modern Orthodox synagogue
was founded 90 years ago with the idea that it be more than a house
of worship.
“The whole concept of a JCC emerged from The Jewish Center,” says
its rabbi, Ari Berman. “We were the first ‘shul with a pool.’ ” (The
health club no longer exists.)
The Jewish Center helped shape American Judaism. Its first rabbi was
Mordecai Kaplan, who went on to found the Reconstructionist movement
at the Society for the Advancement of Judaism one block west. Next
came the legendary Leo Jung, then Norman Lamm, now chancellor of
Yeshiva University.
Proximity to an abundance of Jewish life (and to Central and
Riverside parks) doesn’t come cheap. One-bedroom condos in the new
Time-Warner Center at Columbus Circle go for $950,000; two-bedroom
co-ops on West End Avenue sell for more than $1 million.
“The West Side has a residential feeling, convenient shopping and
better transportation than the East Side,” says Adrienne Pesin, a
sales associate at Halstead, making the inevitable comparison.
“Lincoln Center changed everything,” says Leslie Niederman, 79,
proprietor of Fisher Bros. Kosher Meat and Poultry on 72nd Street
between Broadway and West End Avenue.
Niederman, a Hungarian-born survivor of Auschwitz and Dachau, has
been trimming T-bones and taking phone orders for more than 50
years. He started out working for brothers Louis and Morris Fischer
in a “walkdown” across the street.
He remembers when European immigrants crowded the now-defunct Éclair
and Famous Dairy restaurants, and when “glatt” became de rigueur
(Fischer Bros. has OU certification). Niederman’s son, Steve, a
former art student, and son-in-law, Paul Whitman, are in the
business, “bringing it to higher levels,” he says.
With the popularity of chicken, the store features hormone-free,
antibiotic-free poultry that is “a different product altogether”
from the packaged kosher birds found in supermarkets. And there’s
plenty of vegetarian takeout. A pudding made with quinoa, the seed
of a leafy plant, was one of the hottest items this Passover.
“We got a 27 rating from Zagat,” Niederman says, referring to the
popular food and restaurant guides. “I asked them, ‘why not a 30?’
They said, ‘no one gets a 30.’ ” |