Shepherds of the Holy Land: Moshe Schleifer
Photographer Moshe Schleifer, the fourth of eleven children, was born in Israel but spent his early years traveling extensively with his family. From the scenic Italian Alps to the pastoral landscapes of Oregon, these diverse experiences shaped his view of the world. Now, at 22, Moshe has returned to the Holy Land, where he lives with his wife. Through his photography, he aims to tell untold stories and offer a fresh, perspective on global stereotypes.
*Please read at the bottom of this interview for notes from the editors.
HM: Your journey into photography is quite unique. Could you share a bit more about how you found your way into this field?
MS: Absolutely. For years, I felt somewhat detached from the artistic talents that seemed to run in my family. My siblings were all incredible artists, but I never quite connected with music or traditional art forms. Instead, I was drawn to more tactile activities like cars, fishing, and boating. Then, about four years ago, at 19, I hit what felt like a mid-life crisis. It was a period of deep introspection and confusion about my path. During this time, my high school principal suggested I explore art to channel my emotions and see the world through a different lens. He believed art could offer a new way to engage with my feelings. Intrigued by this unorthodox approach, I decided to give it a try, even though I lacked the patience for drawing or painting. On a whim, I walked into B&H and purchased my first camera—a simple Canon. It was an impulsive decision that would redirect my life's trajectory. I began by wandering around Lakewood, New Jersey, capturing images of street scenes and synagogues. Photography empowered me in a way I hadn't anticipated; it felt like peering into people’s lives with a respectful distance, a silent observer capturing fleeting moments.
HM: How did this new hobby evolve into a passion?
MS: It transformed quietly. I didn’t share my work with friends initially; instead, I started an Instagram page. There, I discovered a community of photographers who pushed the boundaries of traditional photography, ignoring conventional rules like the rule of thirds. Inspired, I began shooting daily, falling deeply in love with the ability to freeze a moment in time—whether a brief 1/30th or 1/200th of a second. It was exhilarating to preserve these emotions and narratives indefinitely.
HM: What has been the most significant aspect of photography for you?
MS: It’s the connection to people. Photography isn’t just about capturing images; it’s about stories, emotions, and unseen moments of life. Each day I shoot, my passion grows. Even on difficult days, when motivation wanes, the moment I pick up my camera and step outside, I reconnect with that initial spark. My craft took a more profound turn when I walked through the streets of Manhattan. Although I struggled to connect with the city initially, the plight of the homeless struck a chord with me. Rather than just passing by, I began engaging with them, listening to their stories, and capturing their lives through my lens. This project wasn't just about photography; it was about human connection and making a tangible impact.
HM: Have there been other themes or subjects that have captured your interest recently?
MS: Yes, after my experiences in Manhattan and Washington D.C., I found myself drawn to nature and quieter subjects—like ducks in a local pond. These subjects offer a contrast to the intense human stories I’ve documented. It’s a balance between the animate and inanimate, the loud and the quiet of life. Every frame teaches me something new about the world and myself.
HM: It sounds like photography has not only been a creative outlet but a tool for personal growth and social engagement.
MS: Exactly. It’s more than a profession or a hobby—it’s a way of seeing the world and connecting with it on a deeper level. Each image, each interaction enriches my understanding and appreciation of the human condition.
HM: Your work with the homeless was a significant project. Can you tell us more about that experience and how it impacted you?
MS: Yes, working with the homeless community was both challenging and deeply transformative. Many were hesitant to be recorded, which I respected. Their stories, though, were incredibly powerful and brought me into an emotional overdrive. I’d feel the weight of their narratives so deeply that at one point, I even considered experiencing their life firsthand by spending a night on the streets. My family, especially my mom, was worried about the risks, given that downtown Baltimore isn’t the safest area. Despite her concerns, that push to immerse myself in their reality was strong, though I ultimately decided against it. After that intense period, I shifted to nature photography. I enjoyed the peace it brought me, but it lacked the emotional depth I craved. That’s when, on a whim one Saturday night, I decided I needed a drastic change. I considered moving to Arizona for its landscapes but ended up moving to Israel on my sister's suggestion, reconnecting with a place we’d lived 14 years prior.
HM: What was it like returning to Israel with a photographer's lens?
MS: It was like rediscovering a part of myself. I landed in Ben Gurion airport and felt an immediate connection. The very next morning, I was out exploring with my camera. I spent about a year photographing different communities and regions, particularly ones perceived as dangerous or contentious. My goal was to see these places through my own lens, to understand their essence beyond the headlines. Photography has become a way for me to approach people and capture the subtleties of daily life. I often joke with my wife about taking ‘screenshots’ with my eyes when I don’t have my camera. It’s a testament to how my perspective has shifted; I’m always on the lookout for those unique, fleeting moments.
HM: It seems your family has moved quite a bit. What prompted all these changes in location?
MS: That's an interesting story. My father isn’t on the run or anything dramatic like that—my mother suffers from severe migraines which my father believes are exacerbated by cell phone radiation. So, he sought out remote locations with minimal electromagnetic interference. We lived on a large farm in Oregon for a couple of years, which was serene and idyllic but ultimately didn’t alleviate her migraines permanently. So, we moved to Baltimore, where we’ve been for the past twelve years.
HM: Earlier, you mentioned a crisis of faith and identity during your teens. Can you elaborate on how you navigated that period?
MS: That period was incredibly challenging. I attended an ultra-orthodox high school, which often felt stifling. I struggled to find my place within the rigid frameworks of religion. Art and photography eventually opened up a broader spectrum of understanding for me. They helped me explore and define what religion meant on a personal level, beyond the external demands or expectations. It was through art that I began to see the diversity within religious expressions and find a path that resonated more deeply with my own beliefs and values.
HM: It seems like photography has played a monumental role in shaping your life. Could you elaborate on how it has influenced your personal journey?
MS: Absolutely. Photography has been a gateway to many significant relationships and opportunities in my life. Interestingly, aside from my wife, everything monumental in my life has a connection to photography. It's been a fascinating journey to discover my path and purpose through the lens of my camera.
HM: Speaking of personal rituals, you mentioned earlier that you start your days with a swim at the beach. How does this morning routine impact your creative process?
MS: Yes, I make it a point to hit the beach every morning around 4:35 AM. There's something incredibly purifying about swimming in the ocean. It's a half-hour to an hour of just me and the waves, which helps wash away any lingering negativity. This ritual not only clears my mind but also invigorates my creative spirit. It's a crucial part of my day that helps me reset and approach my work with a fresh perspective.
HM: That sounds incredibly rejuvenating. Now, your wife—does she share your passion for photography?
MS: She's incredibly artistic, though her primary medium is drawing, especially with watercolors. But when she picks up a camera, her artistic sensibility definitely shines through in her photographs. She has a unique perspective that complements her skills in drawing, adding depth to her creative expression.
HM: It’s wonderful to have such a creative partner. Looking ahead, what are your aspirations for your photography? What's next on the horizon for you?
MS: I'm increasingly focused on using my photography to raise awareness about issues close to my heart. Each image I capture and share is a chance to spotlight stories and themes that matter, aiming to engage and inspire meaningful conversations. I'm excited about the projects I have lined up, as they align closely with my mission to make a difference through my art.
HM: Through your photography, how do you approach creating a concept to photograph without being physically present?
MS: That's a great question. Photography for me isn't just about being there for the click of the camera. There's this immense satisfaction when you capture that 'wow' shot, but it's important to remind myself of the purpose behind it. I strive to raise awareness through my work, not just focus on the technical aspects of photography. It's about creating a space for understanding and empathy, for people to connect with the stories being told. One of my goals is to introduce photography into the ultra-Orthodox world, which I believe has immense therapeutic potential. It's especially valuable for individuals who might be apprehensive about approaching others. People have so much kindness and richness to share, but often that goes unnoticed. Encouraging people to engage with one another isn't as simple as telling an introvert to just 'go out there and talk.' It's about finding ways to facilitate that connection in a manner that's comfortable and genuine. Photography can be a bridge for that, allowing feelings and stories to be expressed in a raw, honest way. When I look through my Instagram page, for instance, I can see my own journey reflected in the photos. It’s like a visual diary of where I’ve been emotionally and mentally at different points in my life. Experiencing life through the lens can also be a way to experience it through a spiritual lens, through God, if you will.
HM: How do you think the religious community where you live will accept such an idea?
MS: That's a complex issue. In the ultra-Orthodox community, photography has often been perceived negatively, seen as a tool that sometimes betrays the community. The media, whether on TV or in print, has frequently focused on showing a negative side of the ultra-Orthodox world. So, when someone picks up a camera, there's this automatic assumption that you’re part of the media, trying to expose or criticize. However, my aim is quite the opposite. I want to portray a positive image of the ultra-Orthodox Jewish life, showcasing the beauty and depth of the community. It's about breaking the ice and demonstrating that photography can be used to highlight positive aspects and foster understanding. I believe this perception is slowly changing, especially as technology becomes more integrated into everyday life. With smartphones and digital cameras becoming more common, photography is becoming more accepted within the community. It's understandable why there might be hesitation and fear. But if you approach people with kindness, love, passion, and a genuine desire to understand, they start to see that. I've been welcomed into homes, included in meetings, and allowed to photograph in places other photographers have never been, like with my current project on the shepherds in Israel. People often have misconceptions about them, many are simply trying to live their lives, often facing suspicion and fear of harassment. But by approaching with empathy and showing them that my work is about understanding and not judgment, I’ve been able to gain their trust. Once a week, I spend time with them, photographing their daily lives. It's a completely different experience from what someone living in a city like Tel Aviv might imagine. It’s about being out in the fields from early morning until night, capturing moments that speak to a different way of life.
HM: I heard you've been photographing shepherds in various areas. Can you tell me more about that project?
MS: Absolutely. I've been photographing shepherds all around the country, including the Negev. These shepherds, despite being deeply religious, lead incredibly unique lives. They spend their days with their sheep, and this has always been their dream. What surprised me the most was the feedback I received on Instagram. People from all walks of life, even those who are very successful in their careers, would comment saying, "Oh, I wish I could be a shepherd." They romanticize the simplicity and peace of it, the idea of just being out in the fields, watching the sheep graze the light. It's fascinating because they are envisioning a life that is so different from their own daily grind.
HM: That's really interesting. Have you had the chance to interview some of these shepherds or write their stories?
MS: Yes, I have. In fact, just last week, I photographed a particularly fascinating woman. She lives near a hill that overlooks the Jordan Valley. She's a mother of ten children, and she and her family were nomadic for about a decade, moving around Israel to find a place that resonated with their souls. They finally settled on this mountain, and she now keeps about 15 sheep. What's remarkable is that she also creates natural remedies from the local plants. She is fully devoted to her role as a shepherd and as a mother, managing to juggle both with extraordinary passion. It's as if people who are truly passionate have more hours in a day than the rest of us. It's incredible to see someone so devoted to their calling and their family.
HM: That's a remarkable story. It's almost like she has more than 24 hours in her day!
MS: Exactly! And then there's another story of a 14-year-old boy from Tel Aviv. He was just an ordinary kid in school, but one day, he decided he wanted to become a shepherd. Now, he's out in the West Bank with around 70 sheep, living out in the open, sleeping under the stars. It's such a contrast from what you'd expect from a teenager from the city.
HM: A 14-year-old shepherd? That’s quite a leap! What does he do with all those sheep?
MS: He’s not in it for the business. He doesn’t sell the sheep or use them for meat; it’s purely for the experience. He and his friends have this dream of living a shepherd's life. They even have donkeys to help them carry their supplies. One donkey was given to them by an Arab neighbor who was moved by their dedication and sincerity. They sleep under trees and live a very minimalistic life, just fulfilling their dream of being shepherds. It’s incredible and almost poetic in a way.
HM: Wow, that’s a fantastic story.
MS: Absolutely. And it’s not just about the photos; it’s about the stories behind them. I’ve been working on another project called "they are not just faces, they're humans too." It's about documenting these interesting characters who are often misunderstood. Many of them are homeless or live on the fringes of society. For example, I met a man named Meir Glasius, in Jerusalem who is quite a mysterious figure. He wears a ripped jacket and is known for sleeping in the synagogue, but when I spoke to him, I learned he’s incredibly intelligent, with a degree in neurology. He’s composed beautiful, heartwarming songs, and despite his rough appearance, he’s a profound person with so much to share.
HM: That's a wonderful story. It’s a reminder that everyone has a story, often more complex than we might assume.
MS: Exactly. Another person I met is a beggar who everyone thinks is just collecting for himself, but he actually uses the money to help families in need. His mother was a famous jeweler, and he has a small fortune in gold and gems, but he prefers to live simply and give away his wealth to those who need it. It’s these stories that drive me to document these individuals, to show that they have depth and humanity just like anyone else or even more.
HM: It’s so important to tell these stories, especially in a world that often overlooks the marginalized.
MS: Yes, definitely. And it’s also a way to challenge our own perceptions and biases. You know, I was born into a world where I saw things in a certain way, but life happens, and your perspective changes. I traveled, met new people, and began to see the world differently. There’s always a risk of history repeating itself, especially with the division within societies, like what we see in Israel and other places.
HM: It's like the lessons from history, such as the lack of unity among the people. Those divisions can be so destructive.
MS: Exactly. And my work is partly about bridging those gaps, about showing the humanity in everyone, regardless of their religion, background or circumstances. We all have something to learn from each other, and photography is my way of exploring and sharing that.
*Notes from the editors: Ultra-Orthodox Jews are often shy of being photographed due to religious, cultural, and community reasons: so it is a surprise to find someone like Moshe an Ultra-Orthodox photographer.
1. Modesty (Tzniut): Many Ultra-Orthodox Jewish communities place a strong emphasis on modesty, not just in dress but also in behavior. Being photographed, especially in a public or casual context, can be seen as drawing unnecessary attention to oneself, which may contradict their values of humility and modesty.
2. Religious Beliefs: Some Ultra-Orthodox Jews interpret certain religious texts as prohibiting the making of images. They may avoid photography due to concerns that it could be considered a form of creating a "graven image," which is forbidden by the Bible.
3. Privacy and Community Insularity: Ultra-Orthodox communities are often close-knit and value privacy. There is a general tendency to avoid media exposure or external scrutiny, as it could lead to misinterpretations or judgment by those outside their community.
4. Respect for the Sabbath and Holidays: On the Sabbath (Shabbat) and certain Jewish holidays, photography is not permitted according to Jewish law. This prohibition extends to not allowing themselves to be photographed by others during these times.
5. Avoidance of Vanity: There is also a cultural reluctance to engage in activities that could be perceived as vain or self-promotional. Being photographed might be seen as an act that could promote vanity, which is discouraged.
These reasons contribute to a general hesitance among Ultra-Orthodox Jews to be photographed, especially in public settings or by outsiders.