A Piece of Israeli History, Shattered

May 11, 2023

For decades, ceramics made in the kibbutz of Kfar Menahem were sold around the country. Now, production facilities are slated for demolition, a move opposed by the artisans who worked there

In the mid-1960s, when members of the kibbutz of Kfar Menahem in the south grew tired of working in the fields, they decided to open a ceramics factory. The venture known as Kfar Menahem Ceramics found rapid success, with its wares sold throughout the country.

Like all of Israel's ceramics makers, such as Lapid, Harsa, Keidar, and Naaman, Kfar Menahem Ceramics has also been shut down. Unlike the others, though, its buildings have never been demolished and remain standing, with the kilns and original tools intact.

Now, as part of a new zoning plan for the kibbutz, the remains of the factory are scheduled to be torn down. The decision is controversial. Researchers seeking to preserve the country's industrial history say they should be maintained as an example of a chapter in Israel's cultural history. These voices are joined by members of the kibbutz, who say the uniqueness of the site should be maintained.

In an interview to the Hashomer Hatzair-affiliated Al Hamishmar newspaper in 1967, two years after the factory was launched, then-CEO Feivel Sarig said that it allowed workers "to engage in the joy of creativity." The article said that "a relevant expert was brought in, who instructed the members for a year."

The kibbutz says this expert was a Dutch engineer named Paul Taub. The 1967 article says he was not the only person to come from the Netherlands to aid the venture. "After some time, a professional arrived, with ornamental skill matched by few," it reads. "She devoted much labor to teaching the companies."

The article goes on to mention sculptor Moshe Saidi, born in Iran in 1937 and one of Israel's most prominent ceramists. Saidi established an architectural wing in the factory, and works at the kibbutz to this day, producing custom-made ceramic walls.

A kibbutz weekly pamphlet from the 1960s states that "the historical decision by the kibbutz assembly mandates that the new factory must solve employment problems for members who have difficulties in continuing in agricultural work and other work requiring physical exertion, and the factory's success is not to be measured solely by the dry criterion of pure profitability."

Over 50 years later, and over 30 years after the factory ceased operations, former employee Shoshana Schindler fills in details of the story in a talk on a kibbutz bench. "We made very European works during all those years," she says. "It wasn't Middle Eastern. These weren't Arab designs. Taub brought the molds from the Netherlands, and we worked with wonderful clay.

"At a certain point we had over 40 employees, and the factory was profitable and sold its work to every shop in Israel," she says. "Every day, a van left here to make deliveries throughout the country. All the pieces were wrapped in Al Hamishmar newspapers."

In recent years, the factory's structures have become a sort of artists’ compound, which has saved them from demolition up to now. Some of those who work there are artisans who once worked at the factory.

In one of these spaces, we meet former employee Yehudit Shaked. "I’ve been here for around 300 years," she says. On the shelf, she keeps replicas of Moshe Dayan's archeological collection, which is on display at the Israel Museum in Jerusalem.

"The factory made replicas for the museum's store," she says. "For years, they sold them at the shop. And I’ve been teaching ceramics for over 30 years. It makes me very sad to see such a glorious place about to disappear. On the other hand, today kibbutzim are also thinking about money, and this space could be rented out."

A few months ago, Orit Salinger and Sunny Versano, sisters-in-law and kibbutz members, decided to establish an exhibit space where the factory used to be – a mini-museum, they call it – to raise awareness of the site's importance.

They tracked down historical photos and scattered them around the space. They also put up display cases with some of the factory's finest products, adding explanatory text.

"It's the kibbutz's most important story," says Versano, who runs a ceramics store and workshop in the artists’ compound. "There's not a single person here who didn't have an uncle, aunt, father or mother who worked here, and most people weren't told about the plans to tear down the factory.

"I grew up on the factory's kitchenware," says Salinger. "People in the kibbutz are shocked that they’re going to tear the place down.

Still on the wall are original sketches of the wares made at the factory, such as Passover dishes; a Shabbat challah dish; various types of coffee, sugar, and tea service sets; gift sets with congratulatory inscriptions; beer mugs; and dozens more. Alongside these are plates of pigments and dyes, a sort of catalog which served the employees in the coloring of the products.

The window cases display works classified by the various artists who worked at the factory. Thus you can find ceramics by Adina Frenkel, born in Brooklyn in 1919, who immigrated to Israel and joined the kibbutz in 1968. She worked at the silk-print factory and at decorating kitchenware with flowers and factories.

Also on display are works by Erela Shabtai, born in 1936, who moved to Kfar Menahem at 21. She decorated the ceramics on display in earth tones and recurring geometric features that include endless circles and ellipses.

The works of Reuven Cohen, born in 1946, stand out in the exhibition. His decorations have a distinct style and ivory shading. Today, his works are sought after as collector's items. He was killed in the Yom Kippur War, in battles in the Golan Heights.

Another veteran artist in the avenue is Talma Harel, who was born in the kibbutz in 1939. "I only arrived at the pottery in 1985, after working in the laundry, the chicken coop, the kitchen and the children's house," she says. "I wanted to study at Bezalel [Academy of Arts and Design], but wasn't accepted.

'I only arrived at the pottery in 1985, after working in the laundry, the chicken coop, the kitchen and the children's house.'

"So I studied at the Be’er Sheva Center for the Arts, and four years after really studying the profession, I came to the pottery factory," she says.

During the past 30 years, Harel has been working in a room on one side of the factory. "I managed to save a lot of molds and I have them with me," she says. "I cast ceramics and draw and make handmade ceramics. I sell and I teach. Thanks to Orit and Sunny, we now have a heritage."

Something in the air

Strolling around the kibbutz, it's hard to ignore the numerous ceramic walls all around. These were thoroughly surveyed for a wall-art survey financed by the Jerusalem Affairs and Heritage Ministry. Most of the walls were designed by Schindler and Saidi.

On a tour with Schindler, she highlighted some of the work seen on the walls. These include a relief she made for a wall of the kibbutz secretariat. It consists of 16 ceramic tiles depicting the production process of the pottery.

On the wall of the former hatchery, she created a ceramic relief of chickens, eggs in a tray and hatching chicks. On the silo building facade she created, with 12- and 13-year-olds, a ceramic relief consisting of 22 squares depicting kibbutz life. The kibbutz's cultural center, designed by architect Menachem Be’er, has a double ceramic wall created by Saidi.

How, then, did such a large group of artists gather in one kibbutz? "Once, being an artist in a kibbutz wasn't acceptable," says Schindler. "Some were farmers by day and artists by night. There is something special about Kfar Menahem that so many members created, and continue to create there.

"Uri Assaf, who was born in the kibbutz, wrote wonderful songs, such as ‘Perach Halilach’ [‘The Lilac Flower’]," she says. "Kibbutz members wrote important books. There are two excellent photographers here, and of course, sculptors, ceramicists and painters whose works are displayed in exhibits. There must be something in the air here. It's hard for me to think of any other kibbutz like this."

Saidi, who is more associated than the others with the ceramics at Kfar Menahem, says he has created 144 ceramic pieces for walls. His opinion on demolishing the pottery isn't as romantic as his colleagues.

"I think we should go along with the kibbutz's policy," he says. "It's a pottery where it was almost self-evident that it was going to close. They can set up a museum in another place on the kibbutz. Just because one place smells like something and another smells like something else? It's possible to move exhibits somewhere else and give the kibbutz a chance to build new things."

'Years before IKEA, other companies were marketing products for low prices. While it cost four shekels to make a coffee mug in Kfar Menahem, a mug from England was produced for a shekel.'

Saidi disagrees with the idea that the Israeli ceramics industry was ever thriving. "It was always on the sidelines," he says. "Years before IKEA, other companies were marketing products for low prices. While it cost four shekels to make a coffee mug in Kfar Menahem, a mug from England was produced for a shekel. It's not like we have a government willing to subsidize the ceramic industry."

Shlomit Bauman, chief curator of the Benyamini Contemporary Ceramics Center, has in recent years shown several exhibits on the history of industrial ceramics, alongside contemporary ceramic displays.

"What Orit and Sunny are doing is a project of preserving the history of industrial ceramics in Israel," she says. "The special thing about Kfar Menahem is that its pottery had a connection to the architectural world, and this has considerable historic value."

Historic research into Israeli ceramics is now in a period of revival, says Bauman. "In the ‘70s and ‘80s, ceramics thrived," says Bauman. "Everyone bought ceramic items as presents. They were very different from Europe's delicate porcelain. Ceramics’ relevance declined from the ‘80s and on, because [the companies] didn't manage to update, and so producing them wasn't lucrative.

"Today, research is being done on potteries like Naaman and Lapid," she says. "But although it's a significant part of Israel's history, there's no museum that keeps collections of industrial ceramics. It's an industry that created a culture. True, it was also for profit, but it has many values that have to do with identity. There are numerous private collections, but Kfar Menahem is one of the only places where you can see a collection [in public]."

Maria Mazarfi, the Southern District director in the Council for Conservation of Heritage Sites in Israel, has joined the objections to the kibbutz's master plan.

"The works of Kfar Menahem's ceramic artists decorate to this day buildings of historic importance earmarked for conservation countrywide, such as the ceramic wall in Tel Aviv's Great Synagogue, and the cultural center at Kibbutz Haogen, created by artist Shraga Weil, who worked with Moshe Saidi," she wrote in the objection she has submitted.

"There are hundreds of other such works by Saidi, who joined the leading architects of the kibbutz movement and included in his works Jewish symbols like the menorah, Star of David, Hebrew script and quotes from the scriptures."

According to Mazarfi, recent years have seen ceramics make "a comeback, and it is once again ornament decorated spaces and houses, which has led to a huge demand for and to a price hike in public auctions.

"The pottery is a final testament to an Israeli industry that consisted of over 30 pottery factories throughout the country, that were part of rich, diverse productivity that has been wiped out," she says.

"The Kfar Menahem pottery survived thanks to the local kibbutz artisans who continued to work in it," she continues. "The pottery contains the original equipment and molds. It's an extraordinary example of preserving [the history of] the ceramics industry, and through it we can learn about the culture and production of ceramics, which was once Israel's leading industry. The pottery and all its components should be kept in their original place."

Iconic items

The story of the Kfar Menahem pottery fits into a growing trend of conserving industrial heritage. Tamar Tuchler, manager of the department for international affairs at the Council for Conservation of Heritage Sites, says: "Clearly, it's preferable to move the kilns and ceramics to another place, but that misses the authenticity. In recent years, we are seeing around the world a growing trend of conserving industrial heritage, in light of recognition of the cultural, architectural, communal and tourist value of industrial sites and structures.

"UNESCO is also focusing on these places, and in many places flour mills, silos, wine cellars, railway stations and the like are being preserved and converted to several public or commercial uses," says Tuchler. "It also has economic value, and we are finding that items produced in them turn out to be iconic pieces in urban and rural development, and assets for branding and image."

Uri Bayez, the business manager at Kfar Menahem, believes the pottery cannot be conserved at this point. "We’ve been working on a master plan for more than a decade, and it includes a large conservation clause," he says. "We took tours of the kibbutz with the Council for the Conservation of Heritage Sites. It's a kibbutz with heritage and an awareness of conservation and there are people dealing with it under the restrictions of the kibbutz's income."

Back in 2016, he says, a deal was made with the Israel Land Administration, marking the pottery for industrial use. Its preservation would mean turning it into a commercial or public site. "Changing the deal now is complicated and bureaucratic," says Bayez. "On the one hand, the state wants conservation. On the other hand, it doesn't create the appropriate conditions or provide incentives for that.

"My job is to expand the economic base of the kibbutz community," he says. "Also, we took a constructor to check if the pottery building could be renovated, and he said there was nothing left to renovate. We think what was inside the pottery can be moved to the silo, and we can conserve the kibbutz heritage there."

The decision will be made by the district committee, whose meetings will be held soon.