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17 September 2014

Obscuratorial Finds – Why do we have so many…? 

by Alice Quine, Curatorial Assistant

In a practising Jewish household, food plays a very important role in religious holidays and celebrations. Many Jews keep kosher, whereby they only eat meat and dairy products which have been prepared in a ritually proper manner, and which must never be mixed or eaten together. At the Jewish Museum we hold many household objects used in cooking, which reflect both Jewish practice and general British trends.

Koshering Boards – These are used to draw blood out of meat, which must be done to make it kosher. While the shape might seem impractical, its slanted base and curved corners ensure the meat is cleanly and fully prepared. The museum holds many of these boards in a variety of sizes and designs, which does make them a bit of a drain on storage space. However the important role they play in Jewish custom means we shan’t get bored of them yet.

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Meat Koshering Board, circa 1955

Kitchen Gadgets – Some of the cooking utensils in the collection are not specifically related to Jewish custom, but offer an interesting insight into the revolution of kitchen appliances. A number of items we have are designed to slice or mince specific foods, possibly a sign of more intricate cooking techniques (or a mild obsession with making things really small). They may also reflect the types of foods which were commonly eaten, as the food market in the 20s, 30s and 40s was significantly more limited than it is today. As with any objects in a museum, it is important to ensure that these are free of trace organic material before they are added to the stores. There would be egg on our faces as well as the slicer if a pest infestation was triggered.

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L to R: Husqvarna Meat Mincer, 1920s; Spong Bean Slicer, 1930s; Tala Egg Slicer, 1940s

Ladles – The museum is the proud owner of not one, not two, but four metallic ladles – though two is perhaps illustration enough. These ladles might have been used for soup, which would have been a common food eaten in the East End of London due to its economical use of meat and vegetables, capable of feeding large families on a small budget. Though worn through use the ladles are still in excellent condition, reflecting their high quality production and the need for objects to last longer due to lower wages and scarce resources, particularly during the war periods.

For the scoop on soup at the Jewish Museum you can learn more in the Social History Gallery, and sample some yourself in the museum café: jewishmuseum.org.uk/cafe

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Metal ladles with enamel coating, possibly used for soup

Bonus Oven Door – No blog post would be complete without a rusty oven door hinged to the end. This object was taken from Goldring’s Bakery, a popular East End establishment founded by Jacob Goldring, which operated from the 1910s to the 1980s. Unlike the others mentioned above, this object is not part of a domestic appliance. However, Jewish bakeries play an integral role in many Jewish households, as they provide special breads and cakes for religious holidays and family meals, which cannot be purchased at regular supermarkets.

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9 September 2014

Thank you to Hi Lo Magazine for this feature on our brand new exhibition!
hilomagazine:

Exhibition: Designing the 20th Century: Life and Work of Abram Games | Jewish Museum London
Official War Artist, graphic designer, illustrator: Abram Games had it all.  See it at the exhibition of his life and works at the Jewish Museum London. 
8 September 2014 – 4 January 2015
http://www.jewishmuseum.org.uk/abramgames
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Abram Games was one of the most important and influential figures of 20th century graphic design. Celebrating the 100th anniversary of his birth, this exhibition will explore his immigrant roots, his Jewish background and his enormous contribution to British design.
Designing the 20th Century: Life and Work of Abram Games is being curated in conjunction with Games’ children, Naomi and Daniel who are allowing the Museum access to the family archives and working with us to portray the true Abram Games. 
Born the day after WW1 broke out, Games was a child of immigrant Jewish parents living in the East End. He started his career as a freelance artist, producing posters for clients such as London Transport, before becoming an official war poster artist during World War II, designing 100 posters. His iconic posters for campaigns such as ATS recruitment and wartime safety used simple and often stark images and clear typography to convey strong messages, and to create images which remain powerful today.
Games’ Jewish identity was incredibly important to him, once stating that “I feel intensely Jewish. It has contributed to the character of my work”. Games produced a huge amount of work for Jewish organizations and Jewish causes, mostly carrying out this work for free.  
His post-war career was hugely successful – designing posters and emblems for an array of important British institutions, commercial companies and charities including the BBC and the Olympic Games, and the logo for the Festival of Britain. As well as graphics, Games designed objects including a coffee maker and a copying machine for the manufacturers Gestetner. He was awarded the OBE in 1958 and appointed a Royal Designer for Industry in 1959.

Thank you to Hi Lo Magazine for this feature on our brand new exhibition!

hilomagazine:

Exhibition: Designing the 20th Century: Life and Work of Abram Games | Jewish Museum London

Official War Artist, graphic designer, illustrator: Abram Games had it all.  See it at the exhibition of his life and works at the Jewish Museum London. 

8 September 2014 – 4 January 2015

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Abram Games was one of the most important and influential figures of 20th century graphic design. Celebrating the 100th anniversary of his birth, this exhibition will explore his immigrant roots, his Jewish background and his enormous contribution to British design.

Designing the 20th Century: Life and Work of Abram Games is being curated in conjunction with Games’ children, Naomi and Daniel who are allowing the Museum access to the family archives and working with us to portray the true Abram Games. 

Born the day after WW1 broke out, Games was a child of immigrant Jewish parents living in the East End. He started his career as a freelance artist, producing posters for clients such as London Transport, before becoming an official war poster artist during World War II, designing 100 posters. His iconic posters for campaigns such as ATS recruitment and wartime safety used simple and often stark images and clear typography to convey strong messages, and to create images which remain powerful today.

Games’ Jewish identity was incredibly important to him, once stating that “I feel intensely Jewish. It has contributed to the character of my work”. Games produced a huge amount of work for Jewish organizations and Jewish causes, mostly carrying out this work for free.  

His post-war career was hugely successful – designing posters and emblems for an array of important British institutions, commercial companies and charities including the BBC and the Olympic Games, and the logo for the Festival of Britain. As well as graphics, Games designed objects including a coffee maker and a copying machine for the manufacturers Gestetner. He was awarded the OBE in 1958 and appointed a Royal Designer for Industry in 1959.


               
 
8 September 2014

Secrets of the Jewish Museum 

by Larry Ross, Museum Volunteer

The Bakers’ Banner on the upper ground floor is one of the most stunning items in the museum (click here for images), yet so many people just look briefly and then walk past it. But the whole story is fascinating. Many of the Jews who came to Britain in the late nineteenth century from Russia and Poland got off the boat here because they were told they had reached New York. Happily for us, they were here, and were falling over backwards to be British. They rushed off to the East End to start working and, knowing that Brits have Unions, the bakers decided to form their own Union, the Jewish Bakers’ Union. As recent immigrants, they could not speak English, so spoke Yiddish instead, which is a language from the middle of Europe written with the Hebrew Alphabet. The Hebrew letters in the middle say “Yiddishe Bakers Union”, three English words written in Yiddish phonetics. As we went into the 20th century, Jews assimilated and could “pass” as British. They no longer needed their own Unions as they could join any Union, but this banner remains a lovely souvenir of those days. 

The beautiful Ark (left) in our Judaism Gallery comes from Venice and dates from the 17th century. When it was discovered in 1932 it was being used as a wardrobe for the servants’ coats in a stately home in the far north of England. It was restored to its original magnificence and installed in the then Jewish Museum in Tavistock Square when it opened. It is still here in the Jewish Museum today.

Many items in our collection, sometimes unknowingly, can show the spectrum of different strands of Judaism. There is a Sefer Torah in every synagogue in the world, as well as in our Judaism Gallery. As such, it at first seems like the very thing that would unite all branches of Judaism. However, what many people do not realise is that in an Orthodox synagogue the complete scroll is read each year, whereas in a Reform or Liberal synagogue, it takes three years. You can also spend time with our ‘Ask the Rabbi’ interactive, posing questions to any one of four Rabbis – one Liberal, one Reform, one Masorti and one mainstream Orthodox. Asking them the same question can get you four different answers!


    
 
12 August 2014

Work Experience at the Jewish Museum 

by Hannah Milofsky, Work Experience Student

Hannah Milofsky (year 10 Hasmonean School for Girls) completed a week’s work experience at the Jewish Museum. She was most surprised by the number of non Jewish visitors to the Museum and their genuine interest in Jewish religion, culture and history. As an avid reader, she was delighted to be involved in the Pop Up Festival event with author Miriam Halahamy and Elizabeth Garrett Anderson School.

Assisting in various workshops, it was interesting to see how many schools of different religions and cultures were interested in Judaism and Jewish history. They were all respectful towards the speakers who spoke of their personal experiences and were very curious about aspects covering every perspective spoken of. On Tuesday, author Miriam Halahmy was invited to speak of her books and I was privileged to assist that workshop.

Author Miraim Halahamy with students from EGA

I found it extremely clever how the author and the museum merged pieces of the book with an exhibition. Once again, the children were brilliantly well behaved and even stood up to act scenes from the book in front of their classmates.

On Wednesday, a member of staff sat us down and asked us to provide her with ideas for a project they were hoping to release as an exhibition in the near future, in the museum. We were very enthusiastic to participate in such an important project and were given the opportunity to relay some of our own ideas

Students from EGA handling Jewish Museum artefacts

The highlight of the week was definitely Thursday when I was fortunate enough to visit a part of the museum which was closed to the public. The work experience team were given a special tour around the archives where a huge amount of priceless artefacts were being stored. One of the girls even recognised files and old books that had been donated by her school to the museum. It was a truly inspiring experience to learn some stories behind several of the objects.

My final day was on the Friday and I was surprised at how fast the day went by. I had two workshops to set up and assist. A holocaust speaker came in the early afternoon and I was asked to greet her. I spoke with her about some of her experiences and found her fascinating; she had had so much horrifying experiences as a child, yet she was strong enough to speak about it, which I found incredible and brave. I was very interested in working in a museum for my work experience to see how it works behind the scenes as well as to get a feel of a real working day. The Jewish Museum ticked all of these boxes and went beyond that by making me feel comfortable in a friendly environment. I could not have wished for a better first work experience. 

Assisting in various workshops, it was interesting to see how many schools of different religions and cultures were interested in Judaism and Jewish history. They were all respectful towards the speakers who spoke of their personal experiences and were very curious about aspects covering every perspective spoken of. On Tuesday, author Miriam Halahmy was invited to speak of her books and I was privileged to assist that workshop


                    
 
12 August 2014

Work Experience at the Jewish Museum 

by Tania Shew, Work Experience Student

Tania has just completed her first year at the University of Sussex where she is studying History. She spent a few weeks with the learning team during a very hectic month of school visits:

As a history student I was very excited to be offered an internship at the Jewish Museum.

Tuesday was my first day at the museum. It began with a tour which included a look at some of the incredible artefacts in the stores with Curatorial Assistant Alice Quine.

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Alice Quine in the stores with Tania Shew, Claudia Camisuli and Ena Hadjaraji

I then helped facilitate a fascinating workshop of the role of British Jews in WW1. I learnt a lot even though the talk was aimed at a year 6 class and I am an undergrad studying history! The role Jews played in the First World War is not something greatly discussed either in historical discourse or wider society and so the workshop provided an interesting new angle. The chance to handle genuine artefacts from the trenches was also a very special experience for both myself and the children participating in the workshop. 

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Year 6 students curated exhibitions on the First World War

In the afternoon I joined a year 7 class in a talk by Bernd Koschland who had spent the first potion of his childhood in Nazi Germany before escaping to England on the Kindertransport. The talk was incredibly moving, especially when he showed us a photograph of prisoners at Dachau he had seen at a museum in which he was able to identify his father. The students were very respectful and asked intelligent and thoughtful questions.

On Wednesday I helped facilitate two workshops on Jewish festivals for a year 4 class. It made for an interesting contrast to the historical workshops I had been in the day before and I was impressed by the museum’s capacity to teach for a range of school subjects with equal flare. The festivals workshops were very interactive and involved a lot of food! They also included explanations of the biblical stories at the heart of the festivals, grape juice drinking, and a game of dreidel. It was very exciting to get to experience four of my favourite Jewish festivals in one afternoon! As someone who was brought up in a secular Jewish home I also learnt lots of new things myself, such as that the significance of the pomegranate in Judaism is because the number of seeds in a pomegranate correlates to the number of commandments. In the afternoon, the children explored the museum galleries and had the chance to design their own Kippot which they immensely enjoyed.

On Thursday I once again helped to facilitate a workshop on the role of Jews in WWI. Whilst the first time I witnessed this workshop it had been aimed at year 6s, this time it was aimed at year 3s and it was interesting to see how the museum facilitator altered the talk to make it more age appropriate.  The children also greatly enjoyed looking round the WW1 exhibition at the Jewish museum. They seemed especially fascinated by an original WWI film of families waving goodbye to soldiers that the museum has projected onto the wall.

My first few days at the museum have flown by. Every day is different and I can’t wait to see how the rest of my placement here plays out. 


                    
 
28 July 2014

Obscuratorial Finds – Why do we have so many…? 

by Alice Quine, Curatorial Assistant

While the museum holds a lot of quirky and fun objects, it is also home to many items of great historical importance. Though a large proportion of this collection is comprised of paper documents, accounts and records, it is the unique aesthetics of the objects that I feel hold the most interest. One such area of particular significance is the vast and varied collection of medals, which can be found both on display in the museum galleries, and in an impressive number of drawers in the museum stores.

Society Medals – The widest range of medals the museum holds are from Jewish Societies, most notably Order Achei Brith and Shield of Abraham. This was one of many ‘friendly societies’, which were established in England during the late 19th and much of the 20th century. As well as organising social events, these groups were formed to aid Jewish immigrants in times of illness and death in return for a small weekly payment. Social Clubs were also formed for young Jewish immigrants, such as the Jewish Lads’ Brigade. Established in 1895, it is the UK’s oldest Jewish youth movement, and provided children with summer camps and educational classes in order to develop new skills and aid social mobility.

School Medals – The history of Jewish youth in Britain can also be explored through the collection of school and sports club documents and paraphernalia. As is still custom, children and teenagers were often rewarded for achievements in sport events and school participation, such as punctual attendance. While children today might be more interested in a music voucher, or if they are particularly lucky cold hard cash, these intricate medals hold onto the memories of events in a way which expendable awards cannot.

War Medals – While the objects above are a priceless means of preserving the social history of Jewish immigrants, perhaps the most valuable medals in the museum’s collection are concerned with war and conflict. Our current exhibition For King and Country? showcases the involvement of Jewish soldiers in the First World War, through personal accounts, photographs and objects. Medals awarded to Jews for other war and military services are also preserved by the museum, and it is a great honour to be entrusted with these objects, which for their recipients are entrenched with great personal significance.

To see more medals from the museum collection, as well as loans from the Imperial War Museum, National Army Museum and British Library, check out our current exhibition which runs until 10 August 2014: www.jewishmuseum.org.uk/kingandcountry


                               
 
23 July 2014

The Making of a Poet: Isaac Rosenberg Event at the Jewish Museum London on Sunday 20 July 

by Aviva Dautch, Poet in Residence

This Sunday, I had my first gig as the Jewish Museum’s Poet in Residence, talking with the wonderful artist and scholar Irene Wise about poet, painter and WWI soldier, Isaac Rosenberg. The museum’s current exhibition, For King and Country?, explores Jewish involvement in the First World War and includes some of Rosenberg’s sketches, as well as a draft of ‘Break of Day in the Trenches’, the iconic poem that inspired T. S. Eliot to praise him as the “most remarkable” of the British First World War poets.

Surprisingly, on a hot and sunny July afternoon, the auditorium was full. Rosenberg’s writing clearly touched many people and our audience ranged from those whose interest had been sparked but who didn’t know much about his life and work, to several academics including his biographer, the WWI expert Jean Moorcroft Wilson. We were slightly intimidated at first, but everyone was lovely and the conversation became a collaborative one, with several members of the audience chipping in. The most touching moment was when one gentleman, Bernard, revealed he was Rosenberg’s nephew, the son of his sister Annie, who had painstakingly typed up Isaac’s poems when he had sent drafts to her enclosed with his letters from the Front.

We began by exploring Rosenberg’s home life and background and tracing how this Jewish boy from an impoverished background, who spoke Yiddish and didn’t learn English until he was eight, ended up studying at the Slade, befriending several of the major artists of the modernist period and acquiring as his patron, Edward Marsh, Churchill’s Private Secretary. What drove him to enlist and how did Private Rosenberg cope in the war when he was so small he was assigned to a “Bantam” regiment? Irene gave a fascinating analysis of his art, finding multiple references in his early work to classic paintings he’d viewed in the National Gallery, as well as unpicking the influence of his contemporaries at the Slade on his many sketches and self-portraits. I compared his development as an artist to his development as a poet, looking at his poetics as well as asking how much his Jewish roots affected his writing and what made him so original.  Our audience was full of thoughts and ideas, and we finished with a sense of overwhelming sadness for such a talent to have been lost so young.

Having made many notes while looking around the exhibition and preparing for the talk, I’m now hoping to draft a poem of my own, inspired by Rosenberg’s life and work. Keep your eyes open for updates as I spend time writing in the galleries during August. And if you see me at the museum, I hope you’ll come over and say hello.

Editor’s note: Aviva will be in the museum galleries on Tuesday 5 August, Thursday 14 August, Tuesday 19 August, Thursday 28 August, from 12 noon to 4pm


    
 
15 July 2014

A Jewish Internship 

A reflection on my time at the Jewish Museum

by Oly Nicolaysen, Ex-Curatorial Intern

In April 2013, as part of my Masters Degree program, I was required to undertake a three month work placement. As per the format of the course, I wrote applications to three very different institutions, which were then given to my supervisor, who would select a position based on my preferences and her academic guidance. So when my supervisor selected a placement in the Curatorial Department at the Jewish Museum, I was immediately suspicious of her reasoning. I confronted her, and my questions were met with a decidedly vague “most suitable applicant for the opportunity”. But in my mind, I knew the real reason. She had clearly ignored all my academic interests and focused on one tiny part of my application: the part where I said I was Jewish.

Why did I say that, I wondered to myself? Why did I think that would help my cause? I felt as if I was being shipped off to some far away island, and when I got there everyone would realise that I was completely and utterly unprepared. Soon they would discover that they had made a horrible mistake, and in no way was I suitable for the position. I wasn’t even really Jewish…

Except that I am. Ethnically and culturally, but not religiously Jewish. My mother’s family emigrated from the USSR to the United States in the mid 60s. At some point between then and marrying my father, she converted to Christianity, but the family was already rooted in a considerably established Jewish neighbourhood just outside of Boston, and this was where I grew up. I spent Passovers with other people’s families, made hamentaschen and kugel on weekends, and feasted on mysteriously labelled chocolates brought over from friends’ parents’ trips to Israel. I attended a constant stream of bar and bat mitzvahs, knew more Rachels and Sarahs than I could count on two hands, and was keenly aware than when discussing neighbourhood gossip, one had to preface whether you were talking about the Weintraubs who lived on Summit Ave., or the Weintraubs who lived on Beacon Street.

Yet I always felt a certain amount of guilt about not being Jewish enough. I never attended Hebrew school, and to this day the only letters I recognize are those on a dreidel. I can remember nothing after “Baruch ata Adonai, Eloheynu…”, which seems even a bit much for who has never read anything from the Torah. Affectionately called the “goy” of my friendship group, no matter how often I pointed out that actually, technically I was Jewish, I was always identified (by others, to be clear) as part of the gentile minority at school, and in the larger community.

When my family moved to Britain after I finished high school, I again found myself in the minority, but for the opposite reasons. I was the only Jew in my extended social group, indeed for some of my peers I was the first Jew they had ever met. Suggestions of lox and bagels for lunch were met with blank stares, and my occasional Yiddish outbursts met no recognition. No one understood when I was tired from schlepping across London, or when never-ending queues were acknowledged with an exasperated “Oy gevalt!” Suddenly, all those cultural and social aspects of my Jewish identity, which I had always taken for granted, were drifting away. I felt the need to try and immerse myself in the community where I had previously been an outsider. So when the opportunity to be involved with a Jewish Museum arose, I grasped for it with everything I had. Including, so I thought, my greatest trick of all: I was Jewish. Yet my elation at the potential of being part of that world would quickly be crushed, or so I believed, by my own self-deceit. I could never be a part of that community. I was only pretending. I wasn’t really Jewish.

What started as a three month work placement grew into over a year-long internship, fully out of my own choice, and the infallible support of the Curatorial team. Far from the exclusive, traditional clique I feared, I was welcomed by a socially, politically and religiously diverse group of people whom I feel so privileged to have worked with. I have been a part of many incredible projects during my time here, from Amy Winehouse and Four Four Jew, to fascinating research for new and upcoming exhibitions yet to be publicly announced. But perhaps the important and personal lesson I’ve learned is what it means to be Jewish. It’s not about whether you’ve been to temple, or observe Shabbat. You don’t have to keep Kosher, or be fluent in Hebrew. Scholars and academics will argue the finer points of what it means to be one of “the chosen people” for the next eternity, but it won’t matter to me. I am Jewish, and that’s it. It means whatever you want it to be.


                       
 
27 June 2014

Obscuratorial Finds – Why do we have so many…? 

by Alice Quine, Curatorial Assistant

From the late 19th century a large influx of Jewish immigrants settled in the East End of London, bringing with them a wide variety of customs and activities. This included the very popular establishment of Yiddish theatre, whose use of the home dialect and relatable themes such as assimilation and poverty provided new immigrants with a great sense of community from both sides of the curtain.

Moustaches – While Yiddish theatre was extremely popular within the developing Jewish community, their limited disposable income meant that budgets were small, and most props and sets were handmade, sometimes by the actors themselves. The Jewish Museum stages a large number of these props, including moustaches and head pieces. These ensured that actors could play numerous parts in the same production, reducing costs and providing further entertainment for the audience.

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Advertisements – Budget restrictions also meant that only very limited marketing could be used, particularly because plays often had a short run. Many promotional signs were painted by hand, and pictures on posters were created using specially-designed printing blocks consisting of wooden blocks with imprinted metal plates.

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Programmes – As the Jewish community became more established, higher production values allowed for detailed theatre programmes and souvenirs. These objects are particularly fascinating, as they showcase popular Yiddish theatre actors and productions, as well as numerous advertisements for theatre sponsors.

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With the second generation of Jewish immigrants came the adoption of English as a first language, and in turn the decline in Yiddish theatre. Today, while London’s West End continues to offer visitors world-renowned theatre productions, the Jewish Museum is able to ensure the legacy of London Yiddish theatre a final curtain call for generations to come.

Click here to learn more about Yiddish Theatre with our online exhibition.


                           
 
12 June 2014

Who do you support and why?  

by Joanne Rosenthal, Curator of Four Four Jew: Football, Fans and Faith

The arrival of the World Cup leads me back to our recent football exhibition, Four Four Jew: Football, Fans and Faith which closed a few months ago, and is currently on display in a revised form at the Manchester Jewish Museum.

In one section of the exhibition we asked a simple question: who do you support and why? Visitors wrote their responses on customised red and yellow cards, and stuck them up for all to see on a large magnetic football pitch. I loved watching the cards go up, and change from day to day. The messages people wrote were silly, cheeky, surreal, moving, and sometimes quite surprising (who knew Partick Thistle were the greatest team in the world?)

These comments perfectly encapsulate the wit and humour (sometimes unintended) of the humble football fan. Ten of my favourites are featured here, together with some lessons they teach us about football fans:

1. Football fans can be quite surreal

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2. They can sometimes trick themselves into thinking things that aren’t quite true

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3. Some of them hate football

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4. Lots of them hate Manchester United

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5. And, finally, some of them are very wise

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