From a Prestigious Ad Agency to a Simple Apartment in Bnei Brak: The Story of Hidabroot's Logo Designer

"At the beginning of my return to faith, I worked at a large advertising agency, but felt a deep emptiness and distaste for the deceptions of advertising," says Merav Bar-Lev, a graphic designer and illustrator. "I realized I needed to move elsewhere, but wasn't ready to leave the 'golden cage' with its generous salary and excellent conditions for an unknown path."

At that time, Merav received a job offer from Hidabroot, which was then a small organization at its inception. "Their TV channel was in the early stages of development, and they needed a suitable design package," she says. "I wanted very much to work in such a place that deals with truly good content. So I went from the beautiful and well-designed offices I was used to, to a job interview in their offices, then located in a small apartment in Bnei Brak. Given that aesthetics were important in my world, I was shocked by the simplicity and crowdedness of the Bnei Brak street. I didn't believe I could work in such a place, but I understood this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, or I might remain forever in the hollow world I came from." Fifteen years have passed since then, and while the channel's package designed by Merav has been updated and replaced, the logo she crafted continues to represent them today.

So Successful, Yet So Unhappy

Merav was born in Tel Aviv 43 years ago to a family unfamiliar with Judaism. "I didn't even know what a Kiddush was on Shabbat," she says. "As I grew up, I pursued studies in design and illustration, eventually landing a job at one of the country’s largest ad agencies. We worked with major clients like 'Tnuva' and 'Strauss,' and the place itself was very rewarding in terms of salary and conditions. Yet despite all this, it was very hard for me there. I felt like I was wasting my time and talent on unimportant things and was cooperating with marketing lies, thereby increasing my internal emptiness. While other employees relished their success, I felt lonely in my feelings, leading me to realize after six years that I needed a change."

In search of inner fulfillment, Merav moved to New York. "Despite its many material offerings, my time there was very tumultuous. I saw designers in my field who fulfilled all dreams of success, yet it was obvious they were simply not happy. It pained me to see how people who achieved all their ambitions still lived without peace and satisfaction, finding themselves in a survival struggle. I felt that in this place, it's every person for themselves, using any means to achieve their goals. My neighbor, for instance, once proudly shared how he acquired his beautiful and luxurious apartment, revealing that it was underhandedly obtained. This story symbolized the harsh realities of survival and dissatisfaction despite apparent success."

Now, Merav acknowledges her difficult experiences. "Perhaps others experience New York differently, but Hashem arranged for me to feel this way, leading to a deep understanding that I didn't belong there and didn't want to continue living my life like that." It was precisely at this time that she met several Chabad Hasidim. "It was the month of Elul, the first time in my life I learned that Rosh Hashanah was more than apples and honey; I was enchanted by the infinite depth of Judaism. Subsequently, I started attending Torah lessons in New York and discovered an entire world. For example, before Shavuot, the rabbi asked us about the historical event of the holiday, and no one knew to answer 'Matan Torah.' This realization of my enormous ignorance sparked a thirst for more knowledge."

Did you then think about returning to faith?

"No, not even for a moment. I was then a Tel Avivian with a pose and ego, and returning to faith wasn't attractive to me. But I enjoyed the lessons, so I continued attending them. By the year's end, I returned to Israel and started attending Rabbi Panger's lessons at a small center in Tel Aviv. There were only four participants, but despite not yet being well-known, the rabbi traveled to us each week and put all his heart and soul into the lessons. He answered all my questions, dismantled one by one all my previously held beliefs, and faced my difficult questions. Over time, my barriers fell, and my heart—having long felt this was the right thing—accepted the truth."

(Credit: Merav Bar-Lev in collaboration with Naama Rubin and Shifra Erlich Kopel)

(Logo design: Merav Bar-Lev)

From External Beauty to Internal Content

Merav returned to her previous advertising agency job, but the change in her was undeniable. "I began eating kosher, bringing sandwiches from home, and dressing a bit more modestly," she says. "People around me raised an eyebrow, and I felt once more that this wasn't my place. However, I had no idea how to live without a generous salary, outside my comfort zone. I had always lived a high economic standard and was accustomed to outings and shopping, so despite a strong desire for a new life, many obstacles remained within me."

Even so, her feet led her to the study house on their own. "I arrived at the 'Netiv Binah' institute in Jerusalem, this time knowing I was already at the start of a process of returning to faith. The first time I visited, it was clear I wouldn't enter again due to the aesthetic concerns and the shock of Haredi neighborhoods with all the strollers at building entrances. I was very deterred. However, I then met a friend from Tel Aviv at the institute, surprised to see she was staunchly religious. Seeing her made me realize that if she was there, I could be, too, and so I began a period of double life—one day a week at the institute in Jerusalem and the rest of the time at the advertising agency in Tel Aviv."

So how did the change eventually happen?

"The twist in this entire story came directly from above, right after I traveled to pray at Rabbi Nachman's grave in Uman, suddenly experiencing tremendous divine assistance. Somehow, Hidabroot heard about me. At that time, they were a much smaller organization than they are today, and they offered me a job. They needed a TV package—a design package for the channel they were launching—and I came for an interview at their office in a small apartment on Rabbi Akiva Street in Bnei Brak. Just entering that city shocked me, as did the simple apartment after being accustomed to luxury offices designed by leading artists. During the interview, Rabbi Zamir Cohen entered the room, eager to share something important. He said in our world, the servant's son looks good externally and receives all the honor, but it's crucial for him that the lady's son also look good and receive respect. I understood the need to do this because you can't impart values with a lackluster wrapping to people raised in a world where appearance is so critical. Today, in all ads, figures are revised with every available design software until they look like a million dollars. I felt it important to use all these tools for truth, saw it as a mission, and wanted very much to work at Hidabroot, though I still felt challenged."

(Design by Merav Bar-Lev, Photo: Michael Leibman)

(Design by Merav Bar-Lev)

(Design by Merav Bar-Lev, Photo: Yohanan Katz)

What was the challenge?

"Moving to work in such a place, without the pampering conditions I was used to, was as frightening as jumping off a cliff into the unknown, so I set them a salary condition similar to what I had at the advertising agency. I thought this would fend off the job offer, but to my surprise, they agreed. At those moments, I realized this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and if I didn't leave my job now, I might never leave the world I was living in."

Merav started working at Hidabroot, in a very plain office in Bnei Brak. "The struggle with the Haredi street wasn't easy for me. I was accustomed to gourmet restaurants under my office, and suddenly there was just kugel downstairs," she says with a smile. "Additionally, there was a Haredi team around me from a very different world. However, I learned to appreciate the clean work environment and the challenge of designing the TV packaging and Hidabroot's logo. The packaging was later replaced, but the logo remains to this day, marking my contribution to the organization."

Merav's work at the channel lasted only a few months. "They were in a survival battle over every shekel and ultimately realized there was no justification for the hefty salary I received. However, I was grateful that this place served as a stepping stone, leading me to work independently with people who embody values dear to my heart. I had the privilege of working with outreach centers, seeing a great mission in creating beautiful exteriors for their essential work. Later, designs for albums by various artists like Aharon Razel and Yitzchak Meir followed, and for three years now, I've been illustrating the cover for Rebbetzin Yemima Mizrachi's journal."

By the way, what was the idea behind designing Hidabroot's logo?

"There were several attempts before we reached it. We wanted something modern and trendy that would catch the eye, yet also timeless. Therefore, the Star of David is at the heart of the logo, representing the richness of the Torah and the many shades in the people of Israel, all uniting around the truth."

(Logo design: Merav Bar-Lev)

The Heart Won, I Returned Home

"I am happy that I found my niche, to adorn and glorify content related to the world of Torah," says Merav. "I wake up every day and thank Hashem for orchestrating things this way, understanding now that He didn't send me to the ad agency for nothing, where I learned the trade secrets. All this was so I could utilize that knowledge for truth's sake. My transition between worlds wasn't drastic but gradual and measured, and even though it seemed impossible, my belief in my mission and pursuit of what truly fulfills me gave me the strength to continue. Something internal within me was constantly striving forward, and I saw how Hashem opened doors for me throughout this journey. Fifteen years ago, when I entered the Jewish world, Jewish content appeared much less beautiful externally; today, everything is more visually accessible, a revolution of great importance."

How do you manage today, with a lower standard of living than you were used to?

"Compared to the standard of living I grew up with, our financial situation is indeed limited. Yet today, I lean more towards simplicity and don't feel any lack. There's something very pure about buying only what is truly needed, instead of items that bring joy today but are just clutter tomorrow. This helps us, as a family, focus on what's truly important. Regarding the deeply embedded sense of aesthetics and yearning for beauty in me, I haven't gotten used to neglect and ugliness. But if in the past it was a value in itself for me, today I see beauty as a means, not an end. After all, our Torah is also beautiful and deserves appropriate representation."

And finally, if you were searching for truth, why did you choose Judaism? Today, many people find spirituality in other places.

"That's a good question because the environment I grew up in portrayed Judaism as dark, and like all the media around me, I too was a victim of its venomous words. Hence, at the start of my search, I was interested in Eastern philosophies, but I quickly understood where I belonged. I felt that other teachings didn't speak the inner language of my soul. It might sound mystical, but the first time I picked up a siddur and said 'Shema Yisrael,' the verse touched me profoundly, leaving me full of chills. For years nothing moved me, and suddenly, the reading from the siddur brought tears to my eyes repeatedly. I felt a deep, inexplicable connection, a feeling of coming home, while other paths didn't feel like home. In the beginning, my intellect blocked me from accepting the truth. When I read, for example, that Rosh Hashanah is Judgment Day, my intellect perceived it as a children's tale. However, in those very moments, the words 'Judgment Day' made my heart tremble. Only after receiving intellectual proofs of the Torah's truth did my mind finally settle, allowing my heart to bring me back home."