An Idol in Shul
Three guesses what this is about:
A reference to the placing of a statue in the Holy Temple, which we mourn on Shiva Asar b’Tamuz.
Nope.
Was an inappropriate symbol discovered during the construction of a new synagogue??
Uh-uh.
Was the Shul treasurer caught red-handed embezzling funds?
Heaven forfend!
—
It was the end of Shabbat services recently, when I overheard an unfamiliar gentleman introducing himself to the treasurer of our Shul (who, I might add, would never fall under even the slightest whiff of suspicion of malfeasance!).
When the guest spoke his name, I couldn’t help but smile.
Ben Gasner.
Years before I became a graphic designer almost four decades ago, I knew his name. In today’s parlance I would have been called a fanboy. I vividly remember walking into the decrepit old building in Romema which housed my Yeshiva in Elul of 1979, and seeing a dramatic poster on the bulletin board.
It showed a close-up of a bearded man with less-than-stellar orthodontia, a cigarette near his lips.
The caption simply read: אל תפתח פה לסרטן — al tiftach peh l’sartan. In English: don’t open your mouth to cancer.
It’s never ideal to have to explain a pun, let alone one in another language, but bear with me. This one is worth it.
The original phrase is אל תפתח פה לשטן— al tiftach peh l’satan. In English: don’t open your mouth to the Satan.
Ben had altered just a letter or two of the original, and produced a brilliant anti-smoking message.
I searched the internet to see if this pre-personal computer image was to be found. Amazingly, I found a blurry image, which only contrasted with the fact that my memory was remarkably sharp.
—
A couple of years later, I received an invitation to a cousin’s wedding, also designed by Ben Gasner. Unlike any invitation I had seen before, it was modern and bold. With 8 panels, fresh fonts, blind embossing and green ink.
It was a thing of beauty.
Over the years, I learned to discern his work even before I discovered his name. Not because it was repetitive. Not because he gravitated to a certain style or color palette.
But because it was thoroughly thought-out and impeccably executed. If the design looked perfect, and if every letter of every word was precisely spaced, I knew the work was his.
Graphic design might be described as a distillery. We take people’s often complex thoughts and ideas and refine them into an elegant, simple message, blending sharp copywriting with iconic imagery.
No one does that better than Ben. Every project is a masterclass in discarding the usual assumptions, rethinking from the ground up, and infusing subtle brilliance into one’s work.
He’s now retired, and has moved from Jerusalem to our neighborhood to live near his children. He lives two doors down from us.
—
My admiration for his work has never waned in all this time. I’m still the same fanboy I was when I walked through the doors of Yeshiva in 1979.
Although our professional paths have rarely intersected in the last 45 years, it brings me joy that our personal paths now do. I can look forward to seeing my idol regularly.
In Shul!
