A Concert in the Sand

January 16, 2017
Uri is bored hanging out in his parents’ Tel Aviv delicatessen, so he follows his grandmother on what he thinks is an idle stroll. Grandma has a purpose in mind; she just can’t tell Uri, because she speaks only German. The pair becomes part of an exuberant, ever-growing procession through the city, led by a group of people “with funny shaped cases”; when they arrive at an auditorium, Uri realizes that Grandma has brought him to an important concert. “The notes enter my ears, and go straight to my heart,” says Uri, as Grandma cries “tears of happiness.” This lightly fictionalized tale has a wonderful, true backstory: in December 1936, a group of musicians, all Jewish refugees from Nazi Germany, gave the first performance of what became the Israeli Philharmonic Orchestra. Ofer’s fluid watercolor-and-ink cartooning is celebratory and cinematic as the crowd makes its way through the busy metropolis. But Shem-Tov and Sandbank’s wordy text spends too much time ineffectively building suspense and not enough on giving readers any of the dramatic and poignant context; it’s not until the afterword that the event’s full significance is revealed. Ages 4–9.

January 15, 2017
A fictionalized account of the first public performance by the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra in 1936.Uri, bored at his parents' delicatessen, walks with his grandmother through Tel Aviv. Unable to converse, since Uri's grandmother speaks German and Uri does not, they communicate mainly through gestures from Grandma and guesses from Uri. Grandma seems to know where she wants to go, but Uri's not so sure: "Maybe she's following the men with the funny-shaped cases." The men with the funny-shaped cases are, indeed, what Grandma is interested in, and after several detours, Uri and Grandma find themselves at the first-ever performance by the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra. Shem-Tov and Sandbank's text (in an uncredited translation) relies on a presumed understanding of the significance of newly formed Israel to pack their emotional punch, never explicitly saying why Grandma is so moved by and invested in this performance. Blues, greens, and yellows make up the primary palette of Ofer's soft, mixed-media illustrations--reminiscent of the work of Peter H. Reynolds--with painted backgrounds and thin outlines conveying a steady gentleness. All characters are as white as the paper on which they're printed, although the vast majority are presumably Jewish. While Uri's first-person rhetorical questioning feels more forced and less exciting than perhaps intended, the soothing illustrations convey a calm not contemporarily associated with Israel. A solid addition to the small collection of Zionist picture books. (historical note, photographs) (Picture book. 4-7)

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