Assuming no education, offering little knowledge, and affecting not to care about either, New York’s Jewish Museum promises to inspire new forms of an “ever-changing” Jewish identity.
The Bible molded modern English and shaped American society and culture. Now, as attacks on the Museum of the Bible suggest, it has been cripplingly tossed aside.
How the Met, in its exhibition Jerusalem 1000-1400 and in its defense against critics of that exhibition, exploits the vocabulary of openness.
An exhibition on the diverse multiculturalism of medieval Jerusalem has been ecstatically received. There’s just one problem: the vision of history it promotes is a myth.
They are still invoking dated forms of self-abnegation, or engaging in more or less ignorant forms of advocacy, or yearning for a vague universalism.
Ours is an era of museums celebrating the identity of nearly every group and ethnicity. But something else takes place when the identity in question is Jewish.
Charles Krauthammer and Edward Rothstein exchange views.
A remarkable concert reintroduces three Jewish composers who fled fascist Europe to America, where two of them pioneered a new art form—the symphonic film score.
As a powerful new exhibit shows, the 16th president felt a close connection to the Jewish people. Why?
As Wagner illustrates, anti-Semitism is more than a mere dislike of Jews—it’s a metaphysical condition that shapes the very way the world is perceived.