Israeli photographer Michael Cohen has seen the world through a camera lens nearly every day since his bar mitzvah in 1956, when his aunt gave him a Ricoh camera — the kind a young boy would hold with both hands in front of his heart, looking down into the viewfinder.

Decades later, "people know me by two things. One is my dogs, and the other is my camera that goes all the time with me," Cohen said.

The photographer spoke Sept. 25 and 26 at the Osher Marin JCC for the opening reception of his photo exhibit "Orthodox in Israel."

It is the first time the photographer has shown his work in the United States.

Hagar Ben-Eliezer, director of Jewish cultural programs at the JCC, first saw Cohen's work while she was browsing through galleries in Tzfat. Months later, she coincidentally met Cohen's booking agent, Simcha Moyal, and shortly thereafter, his photography exhibit arrived in Marin.

"What I like about Michael Cohen's technique is his ability to capture his subjects without interrupting daily life or becoming invasive or disrespectful," Ben-Eliezer said.

This is Cohen's philosophy. "I do not do paparazzi," he said. "I always tell people I want to help understand them, not harm them."

Cohen had a career as a fighter pilot in the Israel Defense Forces. He often brought his camera in flight. During the Six-Day War he took photographs from the sky, a perspective few people could see.

When he retired in 1984, he focused more intently on what previously was a hobby. He had more time, and could be patient for the shots he craved. He has sat numerous times in a field near Lake Achula, waiting for the light and clouds to be in harmony, a perfect backdrop for birds in flight.

But it is his work with ultra-Orthodox Jews in Israel that speaks to him on a different level.

"Orthodox Jews look to be all the time behind curtains," he said. "My aim, my target and my motto is to tell a story — their story — and to show the beauty of Judaism."

Cohen is perhaps not an obvious candidate to embark on a five-year project to capture ultra-Orthodox life. He was born and grew up on a secular kibbutz, Givat Brenner, and does not believe in God.

Yet he couldn't help but be fascinated by the mystery of ultra-Orthodoxy. Five years ago, he went to Jerusalem for a few days and approached Orthodox men on the street.

"At first, they refused" to be photographed, Cohen recalled.

Undaunted, Cohen pushed back against their suspicion.

"Do I look like a man who wants to harm you?" he asked. "I want to photograph you to help people understand you."

He gradually made inroads into the Orthodox community all over Israel — in Jerusalem, B'nei Brak, Tzfat and Netanya.

Men would often insist he join their minyan or don tefillin. He never obliged. He did not believe in God, he'd tell them — and besides, his photographs were not about his personal exploration of Judaism, they were about his subjects' Jewish practice.

The 20 images in the exhibit are all 39 by 28 inches and printed on canvas. They depict Simchat Torah and Lag B'Omer celebrations, weddings, prayer and play: Young Orthodox boys balance on a seesaw, sit on the beach and indulge in a cigarette during Purim festivities.

Cohen loves when people tell him his photographs evoke emotion and spirituality. When he meets people viewing his work, his first question always is "What do you like about this picture?"

He's genuinely curious about how people react to the composition and content of an image. Once, while showing his work in Krakow, Poland, a non-Jewish woman purchased one of his photos, a blurred close-up of a Chassidic boy holding a siddur.

"If people who don't know me or don't know Judaism buy my photos because it fulfills something spiritual, then it means it speaks to them," he said.

Cohen's work with Israel's ultra-Orthodox is ongoing, he said. He has yet to be invited to a tisch, a Chassidic Shabbat gathering for singing and learning.




"Orthodox in Israel" is on display through Jan. 16 at the Osher Marin JCC, 170 N. San Pedro Road, San Rafael. For more information, contact Hagar Ben-Eliezer at (415) 444-8066 or .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address).