Adi Nes sways when he replies to someone, inclined towards the questioner with the smooth motion of a broken wave rolling forward. There is such an unassuming gentleness to his posture it’s hard to believe this Israeli, with his sleepy smile can count Elton John among the ranks of his patrons.
He is one of the most widely acclaimed Jewish photographers alive today. Nes has photographed iconic images such as his untitled tribute to Da Vinci’s “The Last Supper,” featuring Israeli soldiers at the dinner table. His works are showcased in museums across the globe, including solo exhibitions at the Fine Arts Museum of San Francisco in 2004 and yet another solo exhibition in San Francisco at the Contemporary Jewish Museum in 2009.
His pictures capture the scenes of sensitive masculinity that are rarely depicted in art, but are omnipresent in life: brokenness, hopefulness, the vulnerable, loving, and cooperative natures of fatherhood and friendship. These softer aspects never seem to conflict with Nes’ portrayals of dominance, rivalry, violence, and strength. To the contrary, he breathes humanity and complexity into images of Jewish men, surfing the edges between these stark contrasts. On Feb. 1 Nes returned to the Bay Area to talk about his work at JCCs and Hillels from Palo Alto to San Francisco.
After swallowing the last of his pastry, Nes said that his works focus on creations and crises of male identity instead of the familiar images of confident, fully formed masculinity. Whether recreating scenes of ancient myths with Sephardic youth or biblical stories through depictions of urban poverty, his series always utilize a thematic grounding in shared history and spiritualism to investigate contemporary societal issues. Despite the historical inspiration for his work, Nes admitted, “Exploring masculinity is a new and trendy thing.”
He added, “If you ask your boyfriend about his masculinity, he will have a difficult time finding the words,” he said. I nodded. A mosaic of images flooded my mind’s eye. Chaim Potok, Woody Allen, and a slew of other gangly and impotent but scathingly clever men came up one after the other. Even in his hey-day I wouldn’t have described the mighty Seinfied as a studly guy. It’s this popular image that makes my 14-year-old brother crinkle his nose and insist he’s not that Jewish.”
Nes shook his head. “The Nebish. It’s not masculinity–it’s anti-masculinity.” Nes said the modern Israeli archetypes sprang up in reaction to this stereotype of the weak Jewish male of diasporia. “The New Jew emerged as a deliberate political image,” Nes said. I mentioned that the sculpted physique and fighting prowess which mark popular images of the hardy “New Jew” is strikingly reminiscent of Samson. Nes sipped his coffee and answered that in Biblical stories the hero sacrifices himself for God and for the abstract notion justice, not a state. Nes said the masochistic sacrificial ideal came into Jewish stories from Greek influence. “Judaism is primarily focused on the importance of life.” “Yes, Judaism is rather procreation centric,” I replied. He laughed.
