Basketball as metaphor for disengagement

Jerusalem Post, Daily; October 24, 2006

In the new documentary 'Home Game,' Gush Katif's teenage athletes recall an unlikely basketball tournament staged in the final days before Israel's pullout from Gaza.

Elidad Schneid usually got nervous before major games of the Gush Katif inter-settlement basketball league. As a member of the Netzer Hazani team, the winner of most of the league's championship trophies, he should have been particularly nervous hours before the tournament final against Neve Dekalim. But he wasn't. He was too busy planning for another battle scheduled for the same day: the battle over his home.

Schneid is one of the few basketball players interviewed in Home Game, a new documentary following the struggle of the Netzer Hazani community to hold on to its Gaza Strip homes in the days before the fateful August 2005 implementation of Prime Minister Ariel Sharon's disengagement plan.

"During summer vacation in Netzer, we [usually] only talked about basketball and the tournament," he explains in the film, looking back more than half a year after the disengagement. "Last [summer] was a totally different story. Basketball was much less on our minds."

At the time, however, the 19-year-old basketball player and his teammates decided to go on with the championship, seeing the tournament as one of their final anti-disengagement protests.

The film begins with uniformed Gush Katif teenagers bopping down the court with crowds of kids cheering them on. While the scene may strike some as an oddly cheerful opening for a film on such a controversial subject, the championship is ultimately used as a metaphor to examine the feelings of the teenagers as they battle - physically and spiritually - to preserve the community where many of them grew up. Home Game seeks to show that just as the Netzer Hazani basketball team played on the court, so they "played" in the struggle over their settlement: with tenacity, hope and determination.

"Everyone can understand sports - the desire to struggle, win and fight until the end, both on the player level and team level," explains Avi Abelow, the producer of the film.

He and the director, Yaron Shane, thought that focusing on basketball would draw viewers of a variety of political and religious shades into the human story of the settlers' drive to overturn the disengagement plan. "Many people around the world and in Israel, in part because of their political or religious orientations, did now allow themselves to empathize with what these people went through and experienced," Abelow said.

Abelow developed the idea for the film after taking a leave from his Tel Aviv consulting job to support the Gush Katif settlers. After infiltrating Netzer Hazani two weeks before the disengagement began, he used his digital camera to document what he hoped would not be the Gaza settlements' final days. Despite having no previous experience in the film industry, he assembled his footage to create a short film to help raise money for Gush Katif residents after their evacuation, offering donors a longer version as a bonus. This longer film eventually evolved into a full-fledged documentary.

Shane, an experienced director and producer with his own editing and film services company, didn't think Abelow had enough footage for a full feature, so he and the first-time director collected footage taken by Netzer Hazani families themselves.

The bulk of their filmmaking, he says, was actually done largely in post- production. The final product has been extracted from over 80 hours of film. Some of the included footage retains a home-made feel, but overall the filmmakers' editing gives Home Game a professional look.

"I said to myself, 'This is footage that everyone must see to get [the settlers'] story, their perspective of what they went through," says Abelow. "If viewers are allowed to focus on the people and human story, they could come out of the experience feeling a closer connection to the people and to understand their tragedy, regardless of whether they supported the disengagement plan or not. The film is about creating a connection and empathy for fellow Jews who feel forgotten by their people, not about changing their political opinion."

Home Game's insider footage includes teenagers painting the settlement in orange, the color associated with the anti- disengagement movement; a near violent encounter between young settlers and border police; the settlers' return of their weaponry to the IDF; emotional meetings in which settlers discuss painful decisions about how to prepare for their evacuation; the heart-wrenching day of the evacuation itself; and, of course, the final home game.

One of the central figures in the film, 19-year-old Einat Yefet, filmed her final days at Netzer Hazani as part of a deal with Channel 10. Scenes from her cinematic journal feature prominently in the movie. "It was important for me to document our struggle - what we've done, all of our creation," she explains in the film. "We feel that no one understands what we are going through."

When Yefet and her fellow residents were approached by Abelow and Shane to assist them with the film, she hesitated. But she ultimately decided to participate, she said, not only to influence others, but to begin a process of healing. She describes working on the film as a type of therapy.

"After the expulsion we tried to escape," she said. "Not only did you lose your home, but you feel scattered and confused. We had no direction, support or help. For youth who didn't know anything aside from Gush Katif, coping with it was very difficult. We went through a process of repression."

Working on the film wasn't easy, she says, with the project forcing her to confront difficult memories she had tried to block. But she persisted. "The first weeks of working on the film were terrible for me, and I cried all the time," she said. "It was like a very difficult surgery, but if I didn't perform it, it would have been very hard to continue."

Next month she'll embark on a trip to American Jewish communities to screen the film and raise funds for the Gush Katif community, many of whose members remain unemployed more than a year after the disengagement.

Shane, the film's director, says he feels confident that Home Game's youthful subjects are satisfied with the way their story is told. "The fact that they see the film as something that is their own is a compliment," he said.

Home Game has screened in more than 50 communities across Israel over the last few months, as well as in several cities abroad. The audiences are usually sympathetic to the Gaza settlers, but Gush Katif documentaries can be a tough sell - particularly to disengagement supporters and those not generally interested Israeli politics.

The film was shown to the mainstream Israeli press at a Tel Aviv screening last week. Abelow is working on getting the film shown at the country's cinematheques and film festivals, and says his ultimate goal is to get it shown on a major Israeli television network.

Home Game will next screen for high school and youth groups in Israel on November 5, a date chosen for its proximity to the anniversary of Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin's assassination. The hope, filmmakers says, is that the film will create tolerance between different sectors of Israel's population.

Party in the valley (listing)

Jerusalem Post, Billboard; October 20, 2006

During the past year Emek Hefer, the rural valley sandwiched between Netanya and Hadera, has planted the seeds for a steadily growing nightlife. It used to be that residents of villages, farms and kibbutzim in the area had to travel to Herzliya or Tel Aviv to experience the glamorous pubs and dance bars. Not anymore.

The sprouting nightlife reflects a changing demographic profile in Emek Hefer, which is slowly becoming a nouveau college town. The villages have become attractive places to live for many students and young professionals. Colleges in the area, such as Ruppin College and Netanya College, have created a market of potential partyers seeking quality nightlife establishments rather than kibbutz cafes or pubs.

The following is a partial listing for adventurers who want to break out of Tel Aviv and see how Sabras party in the little cities.

Ha'ogen Under the slogan "Because every Friday you need to fall apart!" Alcoholic productions presents a happening party every Friday for students over 23. Music: hip-hop. Dance: Israeli. Kibbutz Ha'ogen, Info: 0523-753800

Inigo Montoya When Inigo Montoya opened last year, a nightlife monsoon hit the valley. Inigo's pumping music, well-dressed folk, exclusivity and hot bartenders make it the most Tel Aviv-style dance bar in the valley. It's not the place to go for a quiet night but to party with the "in" crowd. Em Haderech Mall; Yonnai Junction; open daily from 9 p.m.; Tel: 0528-697824

Lechet A pioneering nightlife institution in Emek Hefer, Lechet is one of the most popular weekend spots for soldiers. It's in Kfar Vitkin and is open Friday and Saturday nights. Music: hip-hop, alternative, mainstream. Tel: 0543-955539

Muze The first mega-bar in the area, Muze is probably the most ambitious. Half a million dollars was invested to turn this former hangar in Emek Hefer into a world-class establishment. With 90 stools, it's arguably one of the largest bars in Israel, maybe even larger than Tel Aviv's Lanski, although it has yet to reach the prestigious Tel Aviv club's status. Emek Hefer Industrial Zone, Tuesday- Saturday from 9 p.m.; Tel: 0509-339879

Natasha Once busy as a weekend dance bar for students and soldiers, Natasha is now the prime locale for "organic" parties. Among the more "natural" and "rustic" of all the nightlife options, these parties are "non-toxic." No smoking is allowed on the dance floor, and tea and natural foods are served on the patio. People of all ages can "come as you are" to dance to world music and golden oldies. It's at the entrance to Kfar Haim and opens every other Saturday night. Tel: 0507-958676

Selfa As one of the first dance bars in Emek Hefer, Selfa was among those that started the pub disco ball rolling. Located right next to Muze in a secluded industrial zone, Selfa consists of a rectangular bar and lounge area with leather sofas. Despite its classic design, Selfa still has a village appeal. On almost any given night, locals 23 and over are likely to bump into old friends. Emek Hefer Industrial Zone; Tuesday-Saturday from 9 p.m. Tel: 0525-400482

Vasco Only a few months old, Vasco is a little darker and more subdued than some other establishments, although the design is standard, with a rectangular bar and a wall lined with sofas. What distinguishes it is an outdoor patio overlooking the valley. Its location, deep within a small mall in Emek Hefer, means that only people "in the know" go there, usually students and an older, professional crowd. Ha'ogen Junction. Open daily from 9 p.m. Tel: 0544-84564

Valery Located across the way from Inigo Montoya, Valery is arguably the most elegant restaurant/bar in the area. The place feels like a bistro during the day and a dance bar at night, when it gets busy with younger folk. It gets really busy on weekends, with DJs spinning freestyle, and is a convenient alternative for those who can't get into Inigo Montoya. Emek Haderech Mall; Yonnai Junction. Open daily from 12 p.m. Tel: (09) 866-6720

Zuf "on the water" is a unique outdoor club near a stream and forest in Kfar Vitkin, equipped with swimming pools and a small camping site (for late-night, drunk revelers). Geared mostly for soldiers, Zuf is popular nationwide, particularly for its warm, personal treatment. The catchy website says it all: www.zuf.co.il

Jewish learning on the rise in Tel Aviv

Jerusalem Post, Metro; October 20, 2006

Over the last decade, centers for Jewish study have been growing and thriving.

A day before Succot, a bunch of 18-year-old girls and boys sat on a lawn under the trees in south Tel Aviv to study Kohelet (Ecclesiastes), the book traditionally read on Succot. They had started the class inside a makeshift classroom at the Shapira community center, the temporary campus of the new Secular Yeshiva in Tel Aviv but moved outside to enjoy the inspiration of the fresh air.

The teacher was commenting on the nature of happiness as described in Ecclesiastes through a look at excerpts from such thinkers as John Stuart Mill and Ahad Ha'am. Students were engaged in unraveling the wisdom wedded in the Jewish canon.

The idyllic scene of Israelis studying Torah may seem out of place in Tel Aviv. The urban center of Israel is known more for its industry, entertainment, culture, bars and restaurants than for its yeshivas and synagogues. But in the last decade, centers for Jewish learning have been growing and thriving in Tel Aviv. That Tel Aviv is one of the most secular cities in Israel has actually made it an experimental and fertile ground for Jewish outreach and education.

"I think Tel Aviv is the capital of secularism because it's also juxtaposed against Jerusalem," explains Benjy Maor, director of resource and development of the Secular Yeshiva. "We decided to establish a secular yeshiva in Tel Aviv for that reason. If you create a framework that's relevant for secular Israelis, you have to do it in the heart of where it is."

The Secular Yeshiva, a project of the Bina Center for Jewish Identity and Hebrew Culture, aims to give young secular Israelis the opportunity to study Jewish texts from a humanistic perspective. Many of the participants, who come from all over Israel, weave their yeshiva studies into their pre-army or post-army track. The curriculum combines community service in the Shapira community, among the poorer in Tel Aviv, as part of the program's emphasis on social action.

Maor, who made aliya 23 years ago from Los Angeles, has observed how young secular Israelis are often alienated from Jewish sources. He attributes this, in part, to their inability to see Judaism's relevance to their lives and values. Many of the students come into the secular yeshiva program associating Judaism with stringent Orthodox practice or politicized religion, with a general aversion to both.

Maor notices an upward trend in pluralistic Jewish learning throughout Tel Aviv. "Relative to 10 years ago, there's no question that if you look across Tel Aviv from south to north, Jewish pluralism is on the map. There are activities of all kinds."

The Secular Yeshiva is refurbishing its new campus in a building donated by the city, which has expressed support for the project. The city subsidizes its own center for Jewish culture at a state-of-the-art building located off Ibn Gabirol on Zeitlin Street. The Brodt Center, built three years ago, conducts programs, activities and courses for non-affiliated Tel Avivians. Its goal is to connect Tel Aviv residents to their heritage and roots through contemporary Jewish culture. The city's active involvement in Jewish learning reflects the growth of interest in the city, says Shira Sivan, director of the center.

"When you do things that are fitting for a young, non-religious crowd, there is demand."

One of the pioneers of the revival of interest in Jewish sources among secular Tel Avivians is Ruth Calderon. While she bears no formal affiliation to the Secular Yeshiva, she regards it as a welcome participant in the same endeavor as the educational institute, Alma, which she founded 10 years ago. Alma is a "center for Hebrew culture" where "Hebrew" does not refer to the language but to the integration of Judaism and modernity.

"I think we should redefine 'secular,'" says Calderon, an active figure in Jewish education throughout Israel. "Tel Aviv non-rabbinic Jews respect culture very much; when we offer them an entrance into Judaism as scholarship or classic narrative culture instead of halacha, it is surprising how much hunger and openness you can find in Tel Aviv."

Calderon grew up in a "very Jewish" secular home, but when she sought to study classic Jewish texts and spirituality, she had trouble finding a non-affiliated educational framework in Tel Aviv. Alma is the culmination of her vision to create what she felt was missing in the city.

"Alma was founded in the hopes of building a home for Hebrew culture - a center of study, ritual, celebration of the Jewish calendar for the non-affiliated majority in Israel and the world."

Located just off Sderot Rothschild, Alma has expanded its activities to include Haifa and has established Alma New York. Alma Tel Aviv offers full and part-time tracks that combine the study of Bible and Talmud with literature, poetry, philosophy and the arts.

Calderon believes the time is ripe for Tel Aviv to live up to its potential as the "Hebrew city" envisioned by Tel Aviv's cultural founding fathers, Ahad Ha'am, Joseph Haim Brenner, and Chaim Nachman Bialik. While Judaism is often not expressed through halachic observance in Tel Aviv, Shabbat and holidays remain "different" from the rest of the week, and the special Je wish atmosphere is present in the many expressions of Hebrew culture in the city. True Hebrew culture, however, co mes from the meeting bet ween the creative arts and Jewish sources.

"Our vision at Alma is to become a meeting place between the talented creators of culture in Israel and the wonderful heritage that belongs to them, to which they were never really introduced." To facilitate this meeting, Alma has tailored a beit midrash program for television script writers and musicians.

While institutes such as Alma and the Secular Yeshiva are providing Jewish learning pathways for secular Israelis who would automatically reject Jewish learning in an Orthodox framework, Jewish learning from a traditional and halachic perspective has also been making headway in the city.

Rosh Yehudi, whose headquarters is off Rehov Bogroshav, is geared toward individual secular Tel Avivians seeking meaningful spiritual outlets. Its sign reads "Center for Self-Awareness."

"I couldn't stand the idea that in the center of culture in Israel there didn't exist the most 'banal,' true, simple alternative, which is the true culture of Am Israel, the culture of the Torah: Judaism," explains Israel Zeira, who founded Rosh Yehudi 10 years ago. "In Tel Aviv we have all the cultures, all the avodot zorot (idolatries) in the world - everything you want, but no Judaism."

Like Calderon, Zeira is concerned that gatekeepers of culture are often disconnected from their Jewish identity and texts. "When you go to Tel Aviv you see that all creative Israeliness happens here - journalism, communications, television. It's amazing that the city that creates Israeli culture lacks Jewish identity."

In its early days, Rosh Yehudi's staff had to stand outside and recruit passers-by for a minyan or weekly class. Today, the classroom is packed every week with men and women ranging from ages 20-50, wearing shorts, jeans and tank tops, who come to listen to the weekly Torah portion, biblical commentary and traditional Jewish sources on happiness and the meaning of life. While its orientation is Orthodox, there is no political agenda or religious coercion. People are encouraged to come, wearing and asking whatever they want.

"It's clear that no one likes to be forced into something they don't understand. Man is a free person, and freedom is a very important virtue in the Torah," says Zeira.

Rosh Yehudi recently expanded and refurbished an old synagogue on Bar Kochva. The synagogue had not been used for years, but a crew of volunteers worked hard to get it cleaned up in time for the High Holidays. All its seats were filled on Yom Kippur.

The growth of traffic in the classroom and synagogue rivals the growth of interest on the Internet. In the "Ask the rabbi" section, more and more people turn to Jewish wisdom on a variety of topics. But Zeira sees this growing interest as an outgrowth of increasing dissatisfaction with nihilist or hedonistic secular culture.

"In the past few years there has been more interest perhaps because the public is coming to the conclusion that there are no real answers to life and that life has lost its zohar and beauty. People are looking for hope, light, direction. And there is no direction."

Community-geared yeshivas with a religious Zionist orientation have sprung up across the city to heal the divide between Judaism and mainstream secular Israelis. Their approach is to situate themselves within a certain community and create a significant, traditional Jewish presence.

Across the street from the temporary grounds of the Secular Yeshiva (which is building its permanent home nearby) is Yeshivat Orot Aviv. Founded six years ago in the Shapira community, it has a non-secular orientation, teaching Torah Judaism not as Hebrew culture but as an integral way of life. Identified with the religious Zionist camp, it combines full-time traditional yeshiva learning and community programs. "Seed families" with husbands who study there, live among the residents to infuse traditional Jewish life into south Tel Aviv.

"It's important for them that there are religious families in Tel Aviv," says Merav Monsonego, who runs the office.

The yeshiva is situated in an old synagogue that used to serve a once-active Jewish community in the area. During Succot, the yeshiva organized events for kids in and around the succa. On Simchat Torah they walked around the entire city with a Sefer Torah to raise the holiday spirits of the secular city. During the week they run weekly classes for women, as well as bar-mitzva training for boys.

"We try to make an atmosphere of Judaism in the community," says Monsonego. "Ha'rav Mishael Cohen, the rosh yeshiva, conceived of this idea. He understood that for Am Yisrael to be connected to Torah, the religious communities can't live isolated from the rest of Israel. Tel Aviv is the heart of Israel."

Yeshivat Ma'ale Eliyahu, located behind Ichilov Hospital, is a yeshiva of higher learning also affiliated with the religious Zionist community. It runs programs and events open to the public to infuse Jewish learning and identity into the city through an approach that applauds and adheres to Jewish law.

Rav Uri Sherki, who teaches Bible at Rosh Yehudi, has high hopes for Tel Aviv: "It is the most spiritual of cities because here they are searching. They could reach a great high or low - but they are in a search. The search is always a safe ground for spiritual ascension."

(BOX #1) How Jewish are they at Jewish Princess?
In Israel, only a bar in Tel Aviv would have a wall relief designed with laser cutouts of Kama Sutra positions. Only a bar in Tel Aviv with such a wall relief would call itself "Jewish Princess."

While not necessarily the intention of the owners, the satirical name represents the playful disdain often associated with Tel Aviv and Judaism. To discover whether or not this stereotypical aversion to Judaism exists in Tel Aviv, Metro met with a few bargoers at Jewish Princess on a busy Thursday night to find out the extent of their connection to Judaism.

Limor, 32, embraced her Jewish identity more in the US than she did in Tel Aviv. "In New York they respect it more. Here it's taken for granted, and you don't have to deal with questions about Jewish identity."

Assaf, 32 from Givatayim, was proud to say, "I'm a Jew." Barak, having a beer next to him, was much more positive toward Judaism and religious people. "When I'm around religious people, I respect them as I do all religions." He argues that Tel Aviv is more religiously tolerant than people give it credit for - it goes along with the do-whatever-makes-you-happy ethos.

Hadas, 31, who lives in Tel Aviv, finds value in Judaism, although she doesn't actively practice. "I'm a Jew and I believe in God. It expresses itself in everything I do. I always ask if what I do is okay." But she doesn't see any proclivity of Tel Avivians to Judaism. In fact, she sees the opposite - a mocking, purposeful desecration - that's what Tel Aviv is for, she says.

Yair, the son of parents who left the haredi fold, represents one of the more extreme anti-Jewish attitudes. "Judaism is not relevant," he says. "I'm a human being. In the Diaspora, Judaism has a different meaning. Here we are the Jewish state. I don't feel a need to be Jewish."

Among those interviewed, there was one woman studying Judaism at the Kabbalah Center, attracted to the mixture of Judaism and mysticism. "It's in my language," she said. She thinks more Tel Avivians should embrace Judaism as a path to spirituality.

Guy, her friend, said, "I fought in Lebanon. That's the most Jewish I can get."

(BOX #2) Where to go
The following is a partial list of institutions with non- academic Jewish education programs and activities in the Tel Aviv area:

Alma College
4 Bezalel Yafe
(03) 566-3031
www.alma.org.il

Beit Daniel, the Center for Progressive Judaism
Bnei Dan St.
(03) 544-2740

Bina Center for Jewish Identity and Hebrew Culture
1 Hayasmin, Ramat Efal
(03) 534-2513/2997
www.bina.org.il

Brodt Center for Jewish Heritage Studies
22 Zeitlin
(03) 695-4522

The Kabbalah Center
14 Ben-Ami
(03) 526-6800
www.kabbalah.co.il

Machon Shorashim
(haredi)
13 Feierberg
(03) 560-3243

Midreshet Aviv
(for women)
(03) 609-2229
www.midreshetaviv.co.il

Rosh Yehudi
45 Bograshov
Tel/Fax: (03) 525-5355
www.rosh-yehudi.co.il

Yeshivat Aviv Hatorah
1 Binyamini
(Nahlat Yitzhak)
(050) 8736454

Yeshivat Ma'ale Eliyahu
(03) 695-9917
www.yeshivatelaviv.org.il

Yeshivat Orot Aviv
23 Rabbi Yisrael Misalant, Shapira
(03) 697-8936
(050) 8822088
orotaviv@gmail.com

Where the guys go

Jerusalem Post, Billboard; Friday, October 13, 2006

Even the name of this new mega-bar in the Yad Harutzim bar compound of Tel Aviv evokes machismo and self-indulgence. That the Ego Bar was founded by Israeli hoopster Moshe Mizrahi together with the Israeli television channel for men, EGO, only strengthens the impression that the bar is a men's club.

While metrosexuals and straight gals who don't mind a little chauvinism seem like its natural clientele, it remains to be seen what kind of people this athletic, male-themed bar will attract. Ego Bar opened last week (September 29) with a loud party attended by many tall men (fellow basketball players), Mizrachi's friends and guests of both sexes. Mizrahi insists that Ego Bar is a place where all genders should feel comfortable.

'If you see the decor, it's not really a man's bar,' he asserts. Built on the grounds of Escobar, there are no loud masculine motifs, even though there was an erotic dancer at the opening party. The colors of the bar match the EGO channel logo: red, yellow, and orange, adding warmth to the impressive space. The DJ booth, shaped like a jail cell, spins a different genre of music every night over a commendable sound system. Some of the decor is a little flamboyant, particularly the red-leathered lounge areas with their funky chandeliers, but the main bar is generally user friendly.

Mizrahi got the idea for the bar 'on the spur of the moment,' following conversations with friends.

But yet another athlete opening a bar? Makes one wonder if the whole endeavor isn't just an ego trip.

Rehov Shevach, Tel Aviv
(03) 639-1551
Hours: From 9 p.m.

Mea Gulpa (bar review)

Jerusalem Post, Billboard; October 12, 2006

Click here for original

Modern rabbinic lore has it that even though Tel Aviv is the secular capital of Israel it is one of its holiest cities, since no church has been built there. Well, at least not until a few months ago.

The newest "church" in Tel Aviv, Griffin, combines the best of two "evils": Christian iconography and steamy Tel Aviv nightlife.

Griffin, whose name is taken from an early symbol describing Jesus, is a happening, well-stocked lounge bar whose interior is designed to resemble an imposing cathedral.

"This is a dream I had for years," explained Yossi Sher, one of the owners. The idea for this house of liquor worship came when he was partying at an Amsterdam club built inside a former church. He was intrigued by the many common motifs: high ceilings to make a man feel like he is part of something greater, and romantic lighting and art for a feeling of mystic exaltation.

While studying architecture at Tel Aviv University, Sher worked at various TA pubs. As a student, he had already begun to create a model of his bar/church using 3D digital imaging.

The final result is impressive. The lighting, pillars, craftsmanship, embroidery and high ceilings all add to a sense of grandeur. The nave consists of a long, rectangular bar with 60 "pews" leading up to the priest's podium (aka the DJ booth). Above the booth is a stained-glass window with images the pope might find illuminating. The bar is flanked by two lounge areas so people can observe the procession of fellow sinners... err, congregants. The bathrooms resemble confessionals and are perfectly suited for the activities common in pick-up bars - things that would require confession.

Sher and his partner Yuval Barashi, an interior designer, were able to create exactly what they envisioned; it's as if Sher's education was all filtered into the project. Griffin is the only structure Sher has ever built as a graduate of architecture school.

This shrine to Tel Aviv nightlife is intended to attract those who are pious about their nightlife priorities: looking good, smoking premium cigarettes, nursing quality drinks, and picking up classy members of the opposite sex. Almost since its opening two months ago, it has been a hot spot for an attractive professional crowd.

Griffin definitely has an aura of Tel Aviv nightlife sanctity, assisted by devout attention to detail in food, d cor and service. It is located right under the Levenstein business towers. Ironically, prior to construction, the empty site had been used as a makeshift synagogue by the religious Israelis who worked there. But Sher didn't seriously consider combining a shul and a bar.

"Synagogues are much less impressive than churches," he explains.

Rehov Menachem Begin 23, Tel Aviv; (03) 560-0001; hours: from 8 p.m.