Israel's Good Name

Museum for Islamic Art

In Israel, Jerusalem on February 3, 2023 at 9:44 AM

Exactly one year ago, the day after our second wedding anniversary, Bracha and I embarked on a short day trip to Jerusalem. Our adventure began with a gourmet lunch at famed pizzeria La Piedra, joined by our friends Adam and Vered. From there we journeyed to the main destination of the day, the Museum for Islamic Art, located in central Jerusalem not too far from the famed Israel Museum. I had been wanting to visit this alluring-sounding museum for quite some time, so it was a joy to finally carve some time out of our schedule for a nice visit. But first, dessert in the form of an ice cream cone from the popular Mousseline ice cream parlour, found just around the corner.

The museum's foyer

The museum’s foyer

Admiring the large building on approach, we learned that the museum was created by Vera Bryce Salomons, who ultimately passed away before the museum’s opening in 1974. Its goal was to preserve and present collections of art and archaeological artefacts that represent the Islamic world. Eight permanent and one temporary exhibitions awaited us as we pulled open the glass front door, thus beginning our tour.

North African astrolabe from 1727

North African astrolabe from 1727

After confirming our tickets and hanging up our coats, we left the agreeable foyer and began exploring the first exhibit at hand – that of the early Islamic art. Now with my field of interest being the medieval periods, and my ongoing research dealing with the material (and written) evidence of the time, I naturally had quite the desire to align my archaeological knowledge with the physical displays of art that we were just about to see. While the more localised content interested me more, there was certainly a vast trove of foreign antiquities which delighted the eye. I can but point out some of the more interesting items that we were presented with, in hopes of giving justice to the experience that we had.

An ancient ivory domino set

An ancient ivory domino set

The first collection of items belonged to the Islamic empires that controlled the lands to the east, such as Persia/Iran, Iraq and more, and then slowly merged westward, covering the Islamic periods and communities from Asia Minor, the Levant and North Africa. Some notable artefacts include a leopard-painted ceramic bowl from eastern Iran, a collection of relatively simple oil lamps (quite similar to those I research), and a 6th-8th century ivory box of dominoes.

Posing at the mihrab

Posing at the mihrab

Moving on to an exhibit about artistic Islamic architecture, we admired a modern mihrab (prayer niche) flanked by 15th-16th century Spanish wooden architectural pieces and mid-19th century Daghestani prayer rugs. Next, I quite enjoyed inspecting a 13th century Syrian manuscript and 12th century Iraqi translations of the Greek Materia Medica. But it was the open pages of an ancient map from a 17th century manuscript that really tickled my fancy, filling me with hopeless wanderlust. 

17th century Ottoman book of travels manuscript

17th century Ottoman book of travels manuscript

Many art pieces and manuscripts later we found ourselves in a quieter room with some exhibits on Islamic cultures from the Middle Ages. A few artefacts that gave me a reflective pause included a glazed and painted Mongol bowl from the 14th century, Egyptian Fatimid period carved bone dolls and ornate pottery, and a large collection of Fatimid jewellery.

Mongol glazed bowl from the 1300s

Mongol glazed bowl from the 1300s

Next, I was excited to see the Mamluk period addressed, as the majority of the ceramic finds in my research date to the Mamluk period. There is one key difference though, the finds I handle are generally simple, and often handmade, pottery pieces, whereas the museum showcases only the finest painted and glazed whole vessels. Nonetheless, it was interesting to set my eyes on the finer wares that the upper crust of Mamluk society would have been using in their day to day life.

Fatimid bone and ivory dolls and a rabbit

Fatimid bone and ivory dolls and a rabbit

There was one vessel that struck me as rather strange. A brass and silver bowl, engraved with the coat of arms of Hugh IV of Lusignan (who died c. 1026), was listed as from Syria or Egypt and dating from the 14th century. I truly wonder what the history is behind that particular piece. Regardless, we continued by browsing some Ayyubid and Mamluk brass vessels and then made our way to the staircase.

Mysterious bronze bowl

Mysterious bronze bowl

Continuing chronologically, we resumed our tour upstairs in the hall dedicated to Ottoman (or Turkish) art. The exhibit covered glazed tiles and finely decorated pottery vessels, jewellery and art pieces, and of course, ornate Turkish articles of clothing. Thereafter, we had a quick look at intricate Damascus wooden furniture, taking me back to my visit to Akko’s Treasures in the Walls museum a decade prior.

A display of Seljuq craftsmenship

A display of Seljuq craftsmenship

Our tour resumed with an overview of Islamic art from the Moghul period, far east in the Indian subcontinent. Similar stylistically to the Ottoman art, at least to my untrained eyes, it was interesting to see such opulence in the form of fine jewellery, finely-carved and detailed boxes and even a painted wooden palace window frame from Gujarat, India.

Exploring the museum

Exploring the museum

From there we moved on to our last permanent art exhibit, belonging to the late Iranian period. At this point Bracha was feeling somewhat fatigued, being in the early stages of pregnancy with our son, Amir. We breezed through this section, pausing here and there to have a closer look at the displays, and then we headed for the ground floor to see the temporary exhibit titled “Coffee: East and West”.

A carven ivory powder horn

A carven ivory powder horn

What I had anticipated in being a cute, symbolic exhibition turned out to be a full-fledged, comprehensive study of all things coffee. We started with a collection of coffee cups and sets, including one particularly charming 19th century European mug that featured a fantastic Ottoman scene of a horse and rider in the desert. The sheer magnitude of the displayed pieces was overwhelming, but there were a few other pieces that shined. One such example was a trio of restored Ottoman coffee mugs that were found in an archaeological excavation at Khirbet Hamsa.

Excavated Ottoman coffee cups from Khirbet Hamsa

Excavated Ottoman coffee cups from Khirbet Hamsa

A large collection of coffee machines filled one end of the room, many of them vintage and retro appliances that were made in Italy. Some were examples of mankind’s clever attempts at gadgetry, with fantastical spouts and vents. A look at coffee in Israel’s early days, and the production of coffee-related accoutrements, gave me a greater appreciation for the times that are now chapters in the history books.

Elegant European coffee mug from the 1800s

Elegant European coffee mug from the 1800s

Once we had sufficiently browsed all that there was to see, it was time to see the final exhibit that the museum has to offer: The Sir David Salomons Collection of Watches and Clocks. This timeless treasure trove of timepieces was so tantalising that I knew it must be a blog post of its own, and so it shall be. In the meantime, this concludes the visit to a very unique and interesting museum, one that sheds light on the artistry of the Islamic days of old.

Poleg Marshes

In Central Israel, Coastal Plain, Israel on October 27, 2022 at 4:11 PM

At times, updates on this travel blog become a rarity, usually when life gets busy, keeping me otherwise occupied. This past lull in posts is no different. After nine long months, on September 10th, my dear wife Bracha gave birth to our precious firstborn son, Amir. He is a handsome young fella who keeps his parents busy during the days, and sometimes awake during the nights. I’m sure that sometime soon he, too, will join in on some memorable and, perhaps even bloggable, adventures.

Our first sight of the Poleg marshes

Our first sight of the Poleg marshes

However, not writing blog posts as of late is certainly not for want of what to write. Harkening back to the end of January, when the winter’s plentiful rains had essentially flooded the country, fellow adventurer Adam and I decided it was time to visit some seasonal wetlands. There had been much commotion about one particular site which began to attract birders in the preceding months, and we felt an uncontrollable urge to explore the site as well. Located just south of Netanya is the open wetlands of the Poleg Marshes.

Resting waterfowl

Resting waterfowl

Still vehicular-less back then, we bussed to a nearby junction and walked our way to nature. It wasn’t long before we crossed a bridge into the natural area, and noticed a sign announcing Poleg Forest, surrounded by a whole slew of peeling eucalyptus trees. Yonder, just beyond the so-called forest was the first body of water – a large flooded area that formed a picturesque pond.

The marsh backdropped by Netanya

The marsh backdropped by Netanya

Scanning the water and waterline with both binoculars and camera, we were not disappointed. A good number of ducks were both traversing the pond, and dabbling along the edges. We identified a few species, including gadwalls, pintails, wigeons, shovelers, mallards and teals. A lone common buzzard sat pensively on some denuded branches, and a variety of songbirds flitted about here and there.

A hooded crow terrorising a marsh harrier

A hooded crow terrorising a marsh harrier

We continued down the muddy trail, dodging puddles and cyclists as we kept our eyes and ears peeled for signs of wildlife. A marsh harrier materialised overhead, as did a flock of rooks and a valiant robin, singing from the low trees. Up ahead was a large flooded field, hosting a variety of birdlife including waders such as northern lapwings, wood sandpipers and a black-tailed godwit.

The tranquil flooded field

The tranquil flooded field

It was tranquil watching the birds dip and dab in the shallow waters, largely ignoring our presence from the safe distance that we were. The only disturbances were trains that came thundering by, blowing their ear-piercing whistles in hopes to keep us off the tracks. These very tracks, built on an elevated ridge, split the marshland in twain, the water joined by culverts, underground aquifers and, most naturally, Nachal Poleg.

Walking along the train line ridge looking southwest

Walking along the train line ridge looking southwest

After seeing a small flock of skylarks feeding in the lush, wet grass, we crossed over the tracks to see the other – eastern – side of the marsh. Lo and behold, our efforts and wet feet were rewarded by a number of raptors, both perched and flying, before us. First, a greater spotted eagle swung by, and then a few more marsh harriers. A peregrine falcon whizzed by too, far too fast for me to photograph successfully.

Greater spotted eagle

Greater spotted eagle

Back on the western side, Adam decided to take a long look at the marsh water, hoping he could find some interesting molluscs or aquatic insects. I took the opportunity to wander off on a dirt road that traversed the flooded field.

Some old Israeli coin

Some old Israeli coin

Upon finding an old, oxidised Israeli coin, I felt inspired to keep walking. Much to my excitement, I chanced upon a female kestrel catching a mouse – if only I was able to get some proper photographs of the moment.

Friends at play

Friends at play

Some time passed before we crossed over once again to the eastern side, and so we enjoyed watching the wildlife carrying on before us. The herons squabbled in the channel, some Spanish sparrows clung nonchalantly to waving reeds, and some black-headed gulls passed overhead. Then, a shrike popped into view and revealed itself to be a moderately rare isabelline shrike – one which had been previously reported upon in local birding circles.

The isabelline shrike

The isabelline shrike

Looping back, walking back from whence we came, we crossed back over Nachal Poleg and made our way to the first flooded area we had seen. From there we followed a trail going north, and passed by a small nut grove, where handfuls of chaffinches were milling about. The trail continued westward, encircling the pond from the north. A few ferruginous ducks, spotted in gaps between the bushes, were an excellent addition to the day’s figurative checklist.

Muddy Nachal Poleg

Muddy Nachal Poleg

We scampered around the sludgy flooded bits, exploring the marsh’s northern extents. There wasn’t too much to see, but it was adventurous and that is what mattered most. When we had sufficiently wet our boots, we turned back around and began the hike back to a bus stop, this time choosing one further along the road to the north.

Ferruginous duck floating by

Ferruginous duck floating by

One thing about the Poleg marshes which interests me so much is the fact that this area, similar to others along the coastline, is essentially a basin in the sandstone bedrock infrastructure. With the coast being hemmed by a kurkar ridge, the winter’s rainwaters and surface runoff makes its way to the sea only to be trapped by the impervious ridge. This essentially turns the land east of the ridge into a seasonal marsh, which, throughout history, had hampered settlement opportunities.

Practicing safe crossings

Practicing safe crossings

In efforts to alleviate the backed-up waters, a hole in the ridge along the course of the stream was carved out in ancient times. The Romans improved upon the structural work, and the site became known as Sha’ar Poleg in recent times. However, other neighbouring coastal regions still remained flooded. About ten kilometres to the south, in modern day Herzliya Pituach, the Byzantines had actually hewn an underground drainage passage in the ridge, thereby draining that area too.

Our final views before boarding the bus back home

Our final views before boarding the bus back home

While this trip only really focused on the marsh, I still hope one day to be able to get a closer look at both of these man made engineering feats of old. But, for now, I just have the memories from this episode and an excellent video produced by Kan (see HERE), which explained the water saturation issue that I had outlined above, as inspiration for future adventures.

University Trip: Nachal Chever & the Southern Judean Desert

In Israel, Judea on May 22, 2022 at 7:30 AM

Following my university department’s field trips to various sites in the northern and central regions of the Judean Desert, we set out in the middle of January for the final trip of the series led by Dr Dvir Raviv, destined for the desert’s southern third. It was a long sleepy bus ride from the BIU campus to our first stop of the day, some obscure location in the arid desert. Deposited at the side of the road near the Bedouin sprawl of Az-Zuweidin, we began to hike over rocky, jagged hills in the direction of Nachal Chever.

The first hike of the day

The first hike of the day

It was a nice morning hike through the arid land, passing a few Bedouin women engaged in agricultural labour and a clumping of their houses, as we made our way to the first lookout. There, perched over Nachal Chever, we learned about the geological makeup of the region, and made note of the nearby Sela Cave, a few unassuming holes on the opposing hillside.

The winding Nachal Chever

The winding Nachal Chever

We were joined by some curious Bedouins and their hounds, two of the youths sitting down alongside us on the craggy rocks. After the educational overview, we took leave of our Bedouin hosts and began the slow descent towards the winding wadi.

Curious Bedouin hounds

Curious Bedouin hounds

Our hike took an easternly direction, passing a few flushed larks and mourning wheatears as our party traversed the dried streambed with purposeful speed. The land opened up to a relatively flat plateau with a few conical peaks up ahead, and then our trail turned due southeast.

The end of the easy hiking

The end of the easy hiking

The leisurely hike became a great deal more difficult as we huffed our way up the steep dirt road in the direction of one of the nearby ridges. The ascent was challenging, but awaiting us at the top was respite at an interesting graffiti-marked hull of an old building. It was the ruins of Umm Daraj, an abandoned Jordanian military police station from the pre-1967 period, which commanded the entire region during Jordanian rule.

The ruins of Umm Daraj

The ruins of Umm Daraj

We were not there for the recent history lesson, but rather for the incredible, panoramic view of the surrounding area. It was the heat of the day, and we were all alone in the wilderness but for a few shepherds and their flock, grazing on the ridge behind us. We drank in the deep desert scenery, resting in the shade of the vanquished walls, as Dvir taught us more about the importance of our current location from a topographical standpoint.

Peering out at the vista

Peering out at the vista

Hiking our way back down and towards the waiting bus, we passed a few brown-necked ravens and desert larks, which were added to my current year list. As we drove along the rough roads, I happened to glance out of the bus window to see a rather dark little owl perched on a pipe that ran parallel to the road. It was unfazed by our rumbling presence, but seeing it filled me with an indescribable joy which can hardly be put into words.

An inquisitive mourning wheatear

An inquisitive mourning wheatear

Driving along, passing some grazing camels, the bus then brought us to Mitzpe Yair, a Jewish village nearby, where we looked out at the geological formations of the surrounding area. From there we drove down to the city of Arad, and had a small break at a gas station where I found some delightful canned honey and salt peanuts.

Mesmerising desert landscapes

Mesmerising desert landscapes

Looping back north a bit, the bus deposited us once again at the side of the road, this time at a sign announcing the Judean Desert Nature Reserve. We were headed for Givat Gorni, a flat ridge that overlooks a small valley of sorts and affords a picturesque view of the surroundings. It was getting late and Givat Gorni was just a bit too far to reach given the time that we had left before dusk, so we walked alongside an established biking path, and settled down at a spot where we could enjoy the view comfortably.

Walking the plateau towards Givat Gorni

Walking the plateau towards Givat Gorni

However, it wasn’t really all that comfortable; there was a howling, bitterly cold wind that cut into us, despite our attempts to avoid it. The sun was slowly sinking towards the opposing landscape, and it was time to head back. Descending from the ridge, the hike was easier now and we moved at a fast clip, the bus waiting for us patiently down at the roadside.

Dvir lecturing in the howling winds

Dvir lecturing in the howling winds

Trotting down, we passed the last few wheatears still visible and boarded the bus for the long drive back. It was an incredible three days of intense desert hiking, and despite how tiring it was, we all had a rewarding time as we traversed the remarkable Judean Desert. From a personal perspective, I gained appreciation for the geological aspect, something that I had generally ignored in the past, and was thankful for the opportunity to see so many new places in Israel.

The end of a series

The end of a series

Delightful as this series was, there is always more to do in life and this coming summer, Dr Dvir Raviv is launching a new archaeological excavation at a yet-unexcavated biblical site, Tel Timna in the Shomron. I don’t know yet if I will be attending, but everyone is welcome to join in on the excitement – more information can be seen HERE.