in which Yossi and Chana Saraleh hang out under the chuppah

November 12, 2015

When all is said and done here is what you have to remember. Yossi (the groom) flew in from Australia. AUSTRALIA. Where it is now summer. And he flew to New York. NEW YORK. Just to marry Chana Sara’leh. Now that is true love.

I had the privilege of photographing her brother’s wedding (you could check that out here if you feel so inclined), and it’s truly an honor to work with this wonderful family again. Clients that “get it” and understand why I shoot the way I do, and AGREE! That is a blessing :)

So sit back, grab some kombucha and kimchi, and enjoy this beautiful day (not like, today, I don’t know where you live (actually I do, but I don’t want to scare you) or on which day you are viewing this (see above), but like this wedding day).

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I wrote that all last week, before this whole thing with Paris went down, and now it feels a bit trite.

Weddings are real, deep, and meaningful. I mean they happen all the time, and as part of the wedding-industrial-machine, I can fall into the cynical camp.

We tend to view things on the global scale as “big”, and “world-changing”, and we often direct our attention as such. But truthfully the world changes slowly as people work on themselves, their family, and their community.

One of the odder happenings by Jewish weddings is the custom of breaking the glass. At the end of the Chuppah the groom with a quick (sometimes practiced :) ) leg movement, smashes a glass (hopefully wrapped), after which everyone says “Mazel Tov!”, the band often starts playing and the solemness of the ceremony is quickly overrun by the joy of the family and friends.

The custom is there to remind us that no joy is ever complete while our Holy Temple is still unbuilt and we are still in exile.

So why is that the cue for everyone to go all ballistic with joy?

Well here’s the deal. The Talmud tells us that G-d allowed for the the destruction of the Temple due to “baseless hatred”. The petty rumor mills, the class distinctions, the arguing, the bickering. Which all might start out as small and innocent, but it’s like an avalanche, gaining speed and intensity as it rolls past the generations.

Marriage is the opposite of that. It’s one person promising the other that even though life isn’t perfect, that there will be little things that annoy us, bickerings that can degenerate into arguments, doghouses and worse. But we won’t let that happen. It’s a promise to focus on the good in each other, and, even when it doesn’t make sense, to love each other. In a word baseless love.

And that’s the beginning of the redemption.

Mazel Tov! Cue the band…

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Makeup by Sary Farkash
Hair by Salon Leah
Florals by Mimulo

Special thanks to the awesome Aga Matuszewska from Storytellers and Co. for shooting this with me.

Childhood Unplugged. September Edition.

September 30, 2015

So somehow it has come to pass, in the year two thousand and fifteen, towards the end of the ninth month, that I, Zalmy Berkowitz, have been drafted into the worldwide denomination of "unpluggers". What are these unpluggers you ask? Wonderful question.

Unbeknownst to all ye proles (of which I was one of just one short month ago), or maybe beknownst, there is a nefarious group of mom and dads (mostly moms, which is why I need to grow my beard extra long), who, through the use of their photon-capturing devices, plan separate, using force if necessary, a child from the screen.

(Pause. Stop. If you are interested in some rocking family photos and you haven't seen my new documentary session offering, please do so now. no seriously. now. Click. Here. And Here.)

Yes, it is horrible, the thought of a child separate from his computer, device, tv, or wii. The sheer terror!

Be it as it may (whatever that means), I'm totally on board. I mean we do it too often, when things get tough, we dump the kids in front of some sort of mesmerizing hypnotic machine. But we really do try to minimize that dumpage. Until hopefully we eradicate it completely. Kids separate from screens come alive. Their imaginations run free with their own fantasies instead of this co-script from some sort of show. They slow down, have more patience, and learn about the actual world. Like you know the real one. With air and stuff.

Part of my draftification is posting a monthly post of my childhood unplugged images. So here you go!

For more on this awesome project see the instagram account instagram.com/childhoodunplugged and their website, www.childhoodunplugged.com

Starting with a few (okay maybe more than a few) from our trip from Idyllwild (the highlight of which was finding a treasure trove of beer bottles for recycling)...

And then some in and around, you know. Then a few from a trip to my sister's house for a new Torah celebration (that deserves a blog post of its own), followed by some Kosher Ice Cream in LA, some readage, and finally some minecraft studyage with uncle. Wait, what minecraft?! yeah. shut up, I ain't perfect. Yet.

Oh, and one from the beach. What's interesting (for me) is that this photo reminds me not so much of this instance, but of the fact that this wa re-enacted a few minutes later but with a whole bunch of birds flying around. I was going to get my phone again (this wa taken with an iphone) but I had already decided that I wasn't going to take any more photos. So I didn't. And I was very proud of myself for that. You know, trying the whole Adulthood Unplugged thing myself :)

Seven Seventy

May 17, 2015

I got a new phone. A fancy pants smart one. You know, the ones you talk to for a few minutes when you open it up, then look at it and say “now what?”. Well it came with brand-spankin'-new phone number. It’s 510-309-7701.
510 because Berkeley rocks.
309 because t-mobile.
770 because Chabad.
1 because 1 is Hashem. In the heavens and the earth. Ooh aah.

770? huh? Chabad? huh? Good questions (though poorly articulated).

Well, you see, many years ago, when Europe was on fire, and the future of Torah-true Jewry was questionable, the Previous Chabad Rebbe parked himself and the remnants of the Chabad Chassidic dynasty smack-dab in middle of upper-middle-class Brooklyn.

His message? “America iz nisht anderesh” America is no different. People thought that he was a bit crazy. America is not Europe, Judaism must look and act different. The old ways were out. The new post-war consumerism was in. Spirituality was outdated. But the Rebbe had a different idea.

Well much has changed since then, but Judaism and Chassidism has more than flourished. Chabad went from an almost-gone remnant of quainter days past, to the largest Jewish organization. Ever. With families stationed in over 80 countries, helping and teaching those less knowledgable. Spreading the wellsprings of the Baal Shem Tov’s teachings. Showing how G-d and the Torah are relevant. More than relevant. Pertinent. Needed.

And the heart of all this is and was that first purchase in Crown Heights. 770 Eastern Parkway. It’s where the Rebbe answered tens of thousands of letters to people across all sorts of spectrums. It’s where the Rebbe initiated the programs and campaigns that would change the face of world Jewry. It’s where the Rebbe would teach, lead, pray. Where he would meet with people until ridiculous hours in the mornings. Talking, giving advice, blessings, answers.

And it’s where we reconnect. If not the actual place, the concept. The idea that there is a Rebbe who genuinely cares about every. single. Jew. Really really cares.

Whenever I get some time in New York I spend some time there, learning, praying, and hopefully snapping some photos. Here are some.

I also got a little tour of the offices upstairs. Where the gears are set in motion. From publishing previously unpublished material (you could see the hand-written notes), to outreach, to education etc.

For more reading about Chabad and the Rebbe I HIGHLY suggest “Rebbe” by Joseph Telushkin, and “Turning Judaism Outwards: A Biography of the Rebbe, Menachem Mendel Schneerson” by Chaim Miller.

Breathe. Hold. Push. Shlomo's Birth Story

February 09, 2015 in Personal Work

Guest post from the amazing and beautiful Estee Berkowitz

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A while back Zalmy’s friend documented his wife’s birth of their son. At first I thought it was weird (I tried to imagine being in her shoes, having her husband snap away during painful contractions seemed annoying). But then I saw the post on his website and thought it was absolutely beautiful, like tears in my eyes beautiful, and asked Zalmy to do that for our next baby.

And so he did. With film developing and processing and all, it took over a year for me to finally see the photos (besides for the polaroids… no they’re not extinct). I didn’t mind the wait, shooting film and waiting a while to see the results has become second nature for me in this instant-everything world, and besides the fact that there are rolls of film, cameras, prints, polaroids, light meters lying all over the house, I’m grateful to wait. Capturing moments and wondering how they will come out and then forgetting about them and then a few months later actually seeing them is very rewarding. Anyway, I was kind of curious what the birth photos looked like, and what emotions they would conjure up for me.

For a stay-at-home-homeschooling-mom, I think social media is a great thing. I’m able to keep in touch with so many people from my past and present, somewhat keeping up with their lives, without having to go out to coffee with them. And people can see how my life is going and actually have a visual of my crazy family-unschooling-sourdoughing-Torah-observant-life. But it also makes me quite nervous, and this is the part of me that I’m pretty insecure about. I think people see my photos of my family and my life and get this image of what it’s like and it’s really not like that at all. And not just for me, I think it’s one of the biggest problems with social media. We only show a fraction, a glimpse of what our lives are like on the internet, (okay, maybe besides us and our naked or underwear modeling children) and yet who we really are, what’s really going on in our lives and in our hearts is left in a black cloud of unknown, undocumented air of silence. The parts of us that we wish we could share and the parts of us that are screaming for attention, but the parts that we hide underneath an everything-is-okay-smile.

Shlomo was probably the best thing that happened to me that year. And seeing these photos reminded me of that. It was a year I put up with a lot of flack for homeschooling and was constantly explaining why and what we were doing. A year I put up with a lot of criticism and pain from people who made me feel like a bug that needs to be squashed. A death of a loved one and an illness diagnosis of a family member that I’m still in denial about. A time that I felt so unbelievably lonely in my thoughts and feelings.

During Shlomo’s pregnancy I got a double ear infection that kept me bed ridden for over a month. I never had an ear infection in my life. After two rounds of antibiotics that didn’t work (and anyone who knows me knows I don’t do antibiotics)… a bunch of holistic stuff and almost a whole bottle of tylenol (okay, kick me out of the crunchy mom group) with the guidance of a wonderful friend I went to a chiropractor that does applied kineseology and got me on the right track to healing.

Mari, this above mentioned wonderful friend, also told me to connect to G-d. If I came to her with a complaint she told me talk to G-d about it. Here am this kosher keeping, sabbath keeping, Torah law following religious Jew and I needed to be punched in the chest, or in this case, my ears, to really truly connect with G-d. She told me that G-d has isolated me during the ear infection, it was time to really connect and pour my heart out to Him. And so heart pouring out, I did.

On our walks to shul I noticed there was a tomato plant growing in a crack of the concrete road. Every week, this tomato plant grew and my kids and I watched little green tomatoes form into orange and then red tomatoes. This tomato plant came out of nowhere; no one would plant a seed in a concrete road, let alone water it. But grow it did, against all odds, from the harsh concrete, life! I’m not so good at explaining analogies, but I guess i’m trying to say that from all that physical and emotional pain came a wonderful relationship with my Creator.

A few weeks before my due date my good friend Robin (who I love and miss) connected me with her friend Kat who was studying to be a doula and offered to be my doula for my birth. I was honored she’d want to help me, and she was honored to assist the birth of this mama’s fifth baby. She was wonderful and just like that tomato plant in the concrete, came completely out of nowhere. She helped me birth exactly the way I wanted to. When it came time to push the baby out (sorry if that’s too much information), there was this huge barrier and I couldn’t do it, my body was ready but my mind was crying I can’t. I shifted my position, took a deep breath and said in my mind: G-d, You do this. Out came another boy (against Chanaleh’s wishes, although don’t worry, he is still her little doll). And just like his name, this little boy has been nothing but a sweet, peaceful, and delightful little addition to our crew.

And a few polaroids.

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In Which the Sauerkraut Prince Marries the Pickle Princess

January 27, 2015 in Weddings

Somewhere around 2009, back when kale wasn’t that hot yet and everyone was still eating quinoa; back when hope and change was all the rage. Back when we had 3 kids and couldn’t figure out how anyone survived with more.

Sometime around then I got a camera, and our good buddy Uri (who grew up with my wife in Orange County) got Estee to buy a book called Nourishing Traditions (get it. Now).

The former led to the never ending quest of finding the perfect camera system, not to mention photography becoming a main source of income for us, while the latter led to our never ending quest for healthy eating and living. We (we being Estee, I just nod and agree) now make sourdough bread (the real kind, with freshly ground whole wheat (yes we grind it ourselves), and airborne yeast), sauerkraut, kombucha, and a slew of oddly named, awesome tasting (and ridiculously healthy) foods.

Beyond the healthy food, it has opened up our eyes to an entirely different way of living (though we were on the way to being completely weird even before this), and some really wonderful and special people. It’s hard to compartmentalize one’s life, saying that without A then B may not have happened, but being open to challenging the status quo has helped me immensely in photography as well. Not taking things as they are as proof that that’s how they should be.

Uri has been on a fermenting frenzy for some time and now and currently makes and sells the best sauerkraut you have ever tasted. Seriously. No really, it is. Check it out at www.brassicaandbrine.com

I don't know Naomi very well, but she didn't have her bouquet for her portraits due some timing mishap, but without missing a beat she grabbed some leaves and just went with it. Definitely a catch.

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Well, a few months back Uri found his soul-mate, and I had the privilege of photographing their wedding in beautiful Malibu.

Being a friend and all, he totally allowed me free reign to shoot as I wish, to try out new things and new gear. So I brought a few rangefinders and shot the whole things on 35mm film. I shot lot more freely than usual, and really enjoyed the change of pace. I had a chance to hang out with great people (my wife included), eat some great food, and get my legs some much needed dancing. Now all we need is Moshiach and we’re good!

Peace love and something fermented.

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Berkowitzs. Film. 2013-14. Holy Moly.

January 05, 2015 in Personal Work

STOP. Get up. Stretch. Get a Coffee (or a beer, depending on when you happen upon this post). Come back. This is a loooooong one. It’s worth it though.

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Due to a series of events, neither fortunate nor un, the year two thousand and thirteen went by without a blip on the blog-radar. According to rule S4L616 every photo-related site MUST have a year-end review, unless certain waivers were submitted, or with a signed note from ones parents.

Such events are beyond the scope of this post, so you must feel satisfied knowing that such reasons exist.

So here are my favorite photos of my family, from 2013 and 2014, in no particular order. Enjoy!

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It’s scary. Seeing all these images, knowing that all this (and more) must have happened at some point in the last two years. I mean thank G-d it’s wonderful, and I’m happy. With my family, my life, but I just wish things would slow down a bit. All this life doesn’t happen in a vacuum. There is always work that I’m in middle of, haven’t started yet, or am just finished. There are dishes to wash, repairs to be done, food to be made, grains to soak, filters to clean. As hard as it is to cram all of the to-do list in one day, on top of that there are a gaggle of kids living life. Crying, laughing, getting muddy, building ladders and forts and swords. Learning stuff, destroying stuff. Growing, maturing, faltering. And so badly do I want to remember all that. Sometimes I do. Most of the time I don’t. All the memories join their brethren, blurring together in some hairy homogenous mass of fuzziness.

Unless I document them.

Then I, like Professor Dumbledore and his Pensieve , can reach down and pluck out a memory, as clear as if it were just deposited.

And that’s why I run around with my cameras, frantically making images. I’m scared of the memories slowly fading away, melting in the grayness of my mind.

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Because I think it’s funny, weird, odd, and a bit scary how many cameras I go through, I’ll list all of the gearI’ve used for these photos:

Nikon F3, F4, F100. 20mm, 28mm f/2, 28mm f/2.8, Sigma 50mm f/1.4, Zeiss 50mm f/1.4

Leica M2, M3, Zeiss Ikon, Hexar RF. Voigtlander 28mm f/2, 35mm f/1.2, Leica 50mm f/2

Hasselblad Xpan, 45mm

Mamiya C330, 80mm

Rolleiflex 6003, 6008, Zeiss 50mm f/4, Zeiss 80mm f/2.8

Pentax 67, 105mm f/2.4

Hasselblad 500 c/m, 201f, 50mm 2.8, 60mm f/3.5, 110mm f/2

Mamiya 6, 50mm, 75mm, 150mm

Mamiya RZ67, 65mm L/A, 110mm f/2.8

Rolleiflex SL66, 50mm, 80mm, Schneider 12.5cm f/2

Speed Graphic

Polaroid Land Cameras

Ricoh Gr1V, Olympus Stylus Epic, other random point and shoots.

Films used. Oh man. Kodak TriX, PlusX, gold 200, 400, portra 160, 400, 800, 160NC, 400NC, 160VC, 400VC, 400UC. Fuji 160s 400h, 800z, fp100c, fp3000b. Ilford HP5, Delta 400, Delta 3200

And that’s that.