Reflections on Schatz Street (part 1)

Named for Boris Schatz (1866-1932), Schatz St. stretches less than a football field in length between two major downtown Jerusalem thoroughfares named after Rabbi Shumel Hanagid (993-1056), and King George V (1865-1936). More germane, Schatz St. branches off of Bezalel St. named for the biblical architect of the Tabernacle. Schatz, you see, founded the Bezalel Academy of Art and Design in 1906.

(Boris Schatz)

I first remember Schatz street from back in 1985. I was a young man alone in Israel, captivated by a rock song I’d been hearing on the radio. Shalom Hanoch’s ballad about the fall of the Israel stock exchange entitled, Mashiach Lo Ba (The Messiah ain’t coming) had caught my ear. So I made my way to Piccadilly, the record store on Schatz St. I didn’t have enough Hebrew. I didn’t know the singer’s name. I just stood in front of the cashier and began singing the few words I could remember. The album wasn’t out yet, so he sold me an earlier Shalom Hanoch record instead, Hatuna Levana (White Wedding).

(The North side of Schatz St. has small commercial properties)

(The site of the Piccadilly Record Store, most recently a dress shop, will soon house a café)

Piccadilly is long closed, but there is still a record store on Schatz St. selling used vinyl to Bezalel students and Nahlaot hipsters. Sandwiched appropriately between a store selling vintage radios and phonographs, and a used bookstore, it belongs to Simon who hears my story and tells me another.

In 2012, the Red Hot Chili Peppers played in Israel and discovered Simon’s shop. They bought classic Israeli albums, Arik Einstein, Shmulik Krause, and Halonot HaGvohim which friends had recommended. They asked Simon for his choice of best Israeli Rock album. “Do you know what I gave them?” He smiles at me. “Hatuna Levana”.

(Simon and his record shop)

It is no accident that my visit to Schatz St. begins with Shalom Hanoch. His song Hadrachim HaYedu’ot (familiar streets) had been rattling around my head ever since it came on the radio a few days earlier. Its chorus is simple:

The familiar streets I came down, roots deep in time,

The familiar streets I came down, seem different to me from here.

Off that very album, Hatuna Levana, Hadrachim HaYedu’ot is Shalom Hanoch’s personal reflection upon leaving his kibbutz for a life as a musician in the big city. His personal story aside, the chorus strikes a nostalgic vein. Don’t we all, after all, have familiar streets?

Today, Schatz Street is in flux. There is construction at every end and businesses are changing hands. What was once a paved road full of traffic is now a pedestrian mall. There is a hotel, residential buildings of Bauhaus architecture, and a building that housed the first Knesset. I took many pictures and will discuss many of the physical features along Rehov Schatz in my next post about this short, but familiar street.