175 meters long, the museum bores like a triangular beam through the Har Hazikaron, or Mount of Remembrance. It juts out from the hillside at either end, allowing visitors to enter and look out. This spectacular architecture is the setting for a lavish and impressive exhibition commemorating the Holocaust. The structure is the culmination of Moshe Safdie’s work in Israel. The architect, a student of Louis Kahn who began his career with the sensational residential complex Habitat at the 1967 Montreal World’s Fair, maintains offices in Boston, Toronto, and Jerusalem. The museum, its architecture, and its series of interior spaces with their carefully designed exhibition facilities are documented in an indepth photo essay and illustrated with texts and plans.
Moshe Safdie was born in Haifa, Israel to a Syrian Jewish family. His family moved to Montreal, Canada, in 1953. In 1959, Safdie married Nina Nusynowicz. The couple had two children, a daughter and a son. His son Oren Safdie is a playwright who has written several plays about architecture including Private Jokes, Public Places.[2] His daughter Taal is an architect in San Diego, a partner of the firm Safdie Rabines Architects.[3]
In 1961, Safdie graduated from McGill University with a degree in architecture. In 1981, Safdie married Michal Ronnen, a photographer, with whom he has two daughters, Carmelle and Yasmin. Carmelle Safdie is an artist, and Yasmin Safdie is a social worker. Safdie is the uncle of Dov Charney, founder and former CEO of American Apparel.
There are many Holocaust museums; while these are essential to preserving the memory of the 20th century's most momentous event and teaching the next generation the importance of learning from it, very few can boast an architecture that is an essential part of the museum, allowing (or forcing) the visitor to experience the meaning Holocaust in a way beyond mere an intellectual perusal of artifacts and descriptions. This is not a museum catalog! Rather, it is an account of how the very building and landscape architecture provide a meaningful (and unforgettable) way to explore Jewish life and culture before the Holocaust, the many aspects of how Jews experienced the Holocaust, and (perhaps most important) hope for the future after the Holocaust, especially as more and more visitors will be of generations that did not live through this terrible period in history and those who did pass away. Such was the aim of the Yad Vashem authority - to create something more than a "black box," a repository for objects. The chief architect selected was Moshe Safdie, a thoughtful man who has created many important buildings all over the world and written widely on the subject of architecture - not simply to create artistic objects but as a means to engage the public in what a building or landscape means in the context of society. He expects that rather than answers, visitors will leave the complex with more questions - and a desire to explore the many facets of the Holocaust further, one of the educational missions of Yad Vashem, for which (with its more than 65 million pages of documentation) is preeminently well equipped. In this respect, Mr. Safdie takes a radical departure from the many so-called celebrity architects out there, as one can glean from the wonderful pages of James Howard Kunstler's "Eyesore of the Month" and Simon & Garfunkel's observation about another great architect, Frank Lloyd Wright: "Architects come and architects go." (the reader is also referred to Mr. Safdie's speech on TED dot com). Most notably, the main building is not a high-rise but, rather, a subterranean complex infused with intermittent natural light.
Architectual critic Joan Ockman discusses the need for such a unique museum, "a place in the world for a world displaced," as she puts it in her title. Though her language is somewhat academically pretentious at times, she does an admirable job in describing the complex and it meaning in the context on the Mount of Remembrance, near Jerusalem. She describes the building as an artistic experience, but one that creates an important emotional context for experiencing the epic story Yad Vashem has to tell.
Avner Shalev, the museum's new curator, discusses the need for expanding the old Yad Vahem - why this is so critical at the beginning of the twenty-first century, "transforming the focus of Har Hazikaron from mainly a commemorative site into a campus that engages dynamically in education and the dissemination of knowledge in Israel and abroad, including laying the groundwork for molding a type of remembrance that would be meaningful and relevant in a rapidly changing world." He chronicles the roles of other curators, landscape architects, and historians in creating an integrated memorial and, thus, and integrated experience for the visitors. In short, he explains why Safdie chose the design he did. Most poignant (here is where I needed to grab for the tissue box) is that upon entering the museum, one listens to a choir of children from Mukacevo, Chechoslovakia, recorded in the 1930s; upon exiting the museum, the same choir is singing, but the visitor is informed that most of these children were murdered at Auschwitz. The song is "Hatikva," hope, the Israeli national anthem - both sources of hope as one looks out onto a spectacular landscape of gentle rolling hills and vibrant communities. Very powerful stuff.
Finally, Moshe Safdie himself talks about the expansion of Yad Vashem and how he came upon his ideas, at times through trial and error. He goes into great detail about the artisitic, engineering, and preservation aspects of creating the main building and its ancillary structures. He also discusses the teamwork involved, in creating more than a memorial to a dark period. "...Designing the Children's Memorial had given me an inkling of the power of emerging into light. It meant that life prevailed. For the new museum, cutting through the mountains and bursting northward ... to provide views of the hills beyond this life-affirming experience to another level. To stand on the extended terrace ... is to understanding that, indeed life prevailed. We prevailed."
The essays, with their small photographs, are printed in stark black and white - much like the cover of the book and much of the museum itself. The visitor is left to add his or her own colors, if there are any to add. The middle pages, which are in color, take the reader through a virtual visit of the museum and some of the artifacts, though the latter are primarily background material. The architecture - and the book - seeks a visceral emotion to provide a context in which to place the artifacts, which fill in the details. My only personal complaint with this book is that more of the landscape was not featured, especially the Children's Memorial, the memorials to the heroes and martyrs of the Warsaw Ghetto, and the Avenue of the Rightous Among Nations. That omission aside, I feel that I have had the chance to pay this museum a virtual visit, until I have the time to visit it person. As such, I highly recommend this book for perusal and contemplation.