Haaretz - Israel News - With a huge pompadour and a tight shirt

Homepage


Search site



News Updates	Wed., March 09, 2005 Adar1 28, 5765	Israel Time: 01:31 (GMT+2)

Print Edition

	News

	Business

	Editorial & Op-Ed

	Features

	Sports

	Art & Leisure

	Books

	Letters

	Food & Wine

	Tourism

	Real Estate

	Cartoon

	Friday Magazine

	Week's End

	Anglo File

	Mideast Road Map

	W. Bank fence ruling

	Disengagement plan

	Shopping service

Previous Editions

	This Day in Haaretz

	Today`s Papers

	Map of Israel

	Useful Numbers

	In-depth

	About Haaretz

	Tech Support

	Paper in PDF format

	Headline Newsbox

With a huge pompadour and a tight shirt

By Shiri Lev-Ari

It's hard to decide whether to take them seriously or not. They started out a few years ago as a group of poets and artists who called themselves The Free Academy ("If culture is an army, then we're a terrorist organization" - that's more or less their motto). They held dozens of evenings of free poetry and discussion, and published their literary works - which are light and playful for the most part - in several places. On the one hand, it is easy to dismiss them as permanent adolescents; on the other hand, they are now putting out a journal of literature, poetry, art and ideas that organizations like the Mifal Hapayis national lottery and the business newspaper Globes have agreed to sponsor (hence the pink pages of the first issue).

The journal, Ma'ayan (Fount), is edited by Ro'i Chiki Arad and Yehoshua Simon and named after Simon's 21-year-old former girlfriend. It is now being distributed in bookstores for the nominal price of NIS 17. This, in their opinion, is the main thing that distinguishes them from other poetry journals: They want the salesperson at Tower Records who makes NIS 17 an hour to be able to afford it, and for a 17-year-old from Be'er Sheva to be able to browse through it on the way to school.

When they are told that they don't sound serious - and that maybe their poetry doesn't sound serious either - they take it as a huge compliment. "Poetry that looks the way poetry is supposed to look is weepiness and a sequence of boring confessions," say Arad and Simon.

"It's hard to call me young. More accurate to say I'm an energetic oldster," writes Simon in his autobiography, "The Prince - Yehoshua Simon: A Portrait," which he says will be published in 22 volumes in a year's time, when the author will be all of 27. Simon mentions the Japanese poet Basho, who said that poetry has to be written at the height of 80 centimeters - the height of a baby's eyes. "This has to be the poet's viewpoint when he writes," he says.

Arad, for his part, is influenced by Imagist poetry - Ezra Pound and Wallace Stevens. "But we don't want to be linked to them; we want people to link us to Tali Fahima [who has been charged with assisting the enemy in wartime and other offenses]," they say, "because our poetry is influenced by reality. It's concrete. If [Prime Minister] Arik Sharon didn't exist, this journal wouldn't be coming out."

But the fact that they talk and write in an amused and amusing tone does not mean they have nothing to say. "We are just taking ourselves with a bit more modesty and humor," they say. Arad, 29, an editor at Globes and a musician, has published two books thus far: Hakushi (The Negro), which contains poems and a story, and "Aerobic," a novel, both put out by Shadorian Press, which was established by his friend Dan Shador. Simon, 26, who writes for Globes and has published a book of poems called "Nationalist Citizens" (Shadorian Press), curates exhibitions from time to time and direct films ("The Extremists," "Words and Things").

In the first issue of Ma'ayan contains texts that were collected at The Free Academy's poetry evenings as well as from Internet blogs. Alongside the poetry and prose pieces there are various texts: "Four Letters to the Minister of Public Security" by Roman Baimbayev that were written in 1999 to then-minister Shlomo Ben-Ami asking for government aid to the arts; an article about the security syndrome in Israeli architecture that was published by Amiram Harlap in 1976; an article by Eli Eshed about "The Poetic World of David Avidan the Way it Looks through the Sunglasses of Science Fiction"; an essay by Rinat Berkowitz on the occupation and an interview with right-winger Moshe Feiglin.

The issue also contains a number of works of art, most notably the work by Freddy that is printed on the back cover - E.T. naked, wearing only boots. "The relationship between Israeli poetry and the poetry of Ma'ayan," they say, "is a bit like the relationship between an alien like E.T. and the veteran inhabitants of Israel."

How did it al begin? "We held a lot of poetry evenings in all kinds of strange places," says Arad. "For example, we arranged with everyone to arrive at a branch of McDonald's at a certain time. We didn't ask permission to meet there or to use microphones or take pictures. We just sat there, bough some French fries and read poetry. One of the workers even joined in and read a poem he had written. We also had an evening of readings at the cafeteria in the supermarket at the Azrieli Mall. We didn't ask permission from the managers, but they can't kick out so many people, especially with bags in their hands."

Sometimes they touch upon society, politics, ecology, art - but they don't stay there for very long. Fairly quickly they return to the amused viewpoint. They talk about wage-earners, strikers, those who were shot - but they do this with a 1970s retro look, thick horn-rimmed glasses, a huge pompadour, a tight shirt. Are they socialists? "I define myself as a person who works for pay and is therefore aware of his class," says Simon. The front cover of the issue, on which there is a photograph of Ma'ayan Strauss in a fireman's clothing, is dedicated to public sector workers - a kind of protest against Finance Minister Benjamin Netanyahu's economic program.

"Maybe this isn't poetry, but rather a game?" they ask in their "editorial," which appears at the back of the issue. In order to publish regularly a literary journal of significance, it is necessary to have a certain level of maturity and commitment. "I agree with you," says Simon. "This is our test."

This does not mean that they won't keep their smile. "We are trying to do something sophisticated, critical and committed, but without grumbling and being bleak," says Arad. Simon adds, "We're dancing on our own grave. In any case, for every one of us, life is one long funeral."

Ma'ayan editors Yehoshua Simon, left, an "energetic oldster" at 26, and Ro'i Chiki Arad, 29. Is it poetry or a game?

(Daniel Tchetchik)