Crafting Masterpieces: From Ancient Trees to Exquisite Flutes

Ariel Lewis grew up knowing his father as a talented musician who once played with the world's most famous orchestras. Living in a Chabad family in Kiryat Gat, Ariel didn't fully grasp what that meant as a child.

His father, focusing on raising his children and sending them to Torah schools, rarely spoke about his past but continued to play music daily as a hobby. He also performed at events and painted.

"Only when I was older did I learn about my father's incredible journey to Judaism," Ariel says. "That’s when I realized his deep connection to musical instruments. They weren’t just for music; they were instrumental in his spiritual return."

Oil paintings by Lewis

From Monastery to Yeshiva

"Dad was born in America and spent years searching for spirituality all over the U.S.," Ariel recounts. "He knew he was Jewish and even had a bar mitzvah at 13, but it was at a non-kosher restaurant, without any real significance, and he wasn’t familiar with anything Jewish around him.

One day, he stumbled upon a monastery in the U.S., where his trumpet skills secured him a spot with the musicians. However, a nun showed him a Christian book with an illustration of a story from the chariot, Christian-style. Although he didn’t understand it, he felt disturbed and immediately left, vowing never to return. He flew to Los Angeles, where he received major proposals to work with top musicians, finally feeling he was on the right path."

In Los Angeles, his connection with Chabad began. "By divine providence," Ariel notes, "my father happened to walk by a local Chabad house and met Rabbi Cunin, whose tzitzit caught his eye. Dad remembered a painting from his parents' home showing Hasidim dancing with similar strings. Curious, he asked Rabbi Cunin, who invited him to the synagogue. That's how his journey to Judaism started, eventually leading to his marriage with my mother, moving to Israel, and building a large family, thank Hashem."

Harp created by Lewis displayed at an exhibition

Performing with his late father

A World of Music

"Dad was exceptionally gifted and played in a famous band across the U.S. before his spiritual transformation," Ariel continues. "Once he embraced Judaism, concerts became memories, focusing instead on family, art, and music.

"He particularly loved learning about the music for the Temple and often discussed it. I remember as a child it was tough; Israeli culture wasn’t his fit. His creativity and music always wanted to break out, yet raising us in a Torah-observant environment was crucial for him, so we weren’t familiar with the world he grew up in. The father we saw at home was extraordinary, full of passion and strength, which was confusing yet sparked immense admiration in us."

Though we were Chabad followers, Dad sent me to study at Lakewood Yeshiva, believing 'Chasidic lights need Lithuanian vessels.' He had met the late R' Schneur Kotler, the head of Lakewood, during his return to Judaism and was greatly welcomed there. Meanwhile, Dad noticed my interest in music and felt it vital to nurture my musical skills. He taught me guitar and clarinet and took me along to perform in the U.S. in shows named 'Chasidic Exile'. Together, we traveled Jewish communities worldwide, performing and sharing fascinating Chasidic stories."

An oil painting by Lewis

Years of Creation

Ariel continues: "Once, I gifted Dad a special instrument—a 'blues guitar' perfect for rich, emotional blues music. I thought he’d love it for its nostalgia. But to my surprise, days later, he told me, 'Take the guitar back.' When I was puzzled, he said, 'Sell the guitar and buy special wood to make me a flute.'

"Dad wanted not just any flute, but a Baroque-style wooden transverse flute he'd always dreamed of, hoping I would make it by hand.

"Self-taught in many crafts, I understood why Dad believed I could fulfill his wish, yet I had no idea where to start. After initially researching suitable woods and quickly becoming discouraged, I switched to making harps, which sold well in various global communities.

"Dad supported me but never gave up on his dream, always encouraging: 'Buy wood for the flute and start creating.' Eventually, I connected with a Jew in Alon Shvut dealing in special woods from South America. I purchased many wood pieces at 200 shekels each and, after much effort, crafted what seemed an artisanal flute. But when Dad played it, its highest octave was off.

"This failure, among others, was disheartening but not for Dad, who held onto the dream. Finally, he found a top European craftsman willing to teach me to create a flute, just as Dad envisioned. Dad was overjoyed, and I was fulfilled achieving my first flute, proudly delivered to him."

Ariel highlights that from this moment, his father seemed rejuvenated, quickly composing classical, Jewish, and Chasidic pieces, some played in Chabad melodies today. "I joined him, always envisioning playing music in the Temple, imagining endlessly our contributions and specific pieces to perform there. Besides, I'm also an artist, creating oil paintings."

The process of crafting

The rare flute crafted

Flutes Worth Thousands

Today, Ariel defines himself as a "flute maker," "but not just any flutes—luxurious and professional ones," he clarifies. "I use unique woods that dry for years, usually sourcing them worldwide. Eight years ago, near Jerusalem's Old City, I saw a large, ancient olive branch being cut. I gained permission to use it and placed it aside for a special drying process. Recently, I finally cut it to create two especially crafted flutes.

"Besides ancient woods, my flutes are luxurious because they incorporate gold, silver, and even diamonds, like during the Renaissance, enhancing their elegance. These flutes easily cost 8000 shekels each."

Who buys these luxury flutes?

"Surprisingly, people from all over buy my quality flutes, not just Jews but many non-Jews too. They're amazed learning a Charedi Jew with a long beard and nine children is behind these creations. Yet I'm proud, viewing it as a mission—showing the world what we create and honoring Hashem's name."

Can you recognize a flute's sound you crafted? Is it distinct?

"Absolutely yes, as each hand-crafted flute bears a unique sound. My challenge is giving each flute extraordinary musical qualities that inspire. I use a rare stock of over 80-year-old seasoned wood, meticulously processed, hand-lathed, and precisely drilled to one-thousandth of a millimeter. This sound can only be achieved by skilled, artisanal hands, not by machines."

What about the flute you made for your father? Where is it now?

"Dad’s flute?" he asks, smiling, "It’s still with me, as I share a special bond with it. I used unique wood from Africa, believed to be the acacia wood used in the Mishkan. For now, I can't part with it, because it's my father's, holding a special place within my soul."