Shlomo Bentin died in a traffic accident on July 13th 2012. Shlomo was an amazing man and had a great impact not only on psychological and brain science but also directly on the lives of so many people. He had a unique passion for life and for scientific discovery. He was a strong man with a soft heart and his exuberant presence was always felt and admired.

This blog is a place where people can share their experiences and memories of Shlomo. He was an extremely lively man who cherished his family, friends, work and academic accomplishments and we hope this blog will help to celebrate his life as he always did. To contribute, please send your text to Ani Flevaris and Ayelet Landau directly or at remembering.shlomo[at] gmail.com

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

From Shani Shalgi


Even a month after his untimely death, I have tears  in my eyes as I write this. I am so proud to have known such a great man. Every word I read in this blog is true. It was Shlomo who introduced me to my advisor Leon, and I was privileged to work in his "sister lab", and have him on my PhD committee. When I think of Shlomo, so many images come to mind: Shlomo wearing a suit and tie when giving lectures (in Israel this is extremely rare), Shlomo dancing with me at a party in Bodrum, Turkey at ICON X 2008, Shlomo telling me about his latest ski trip, Shlomo calling me on Skype to let me know he managed to discover how to do something in Analyzer 2 without my help, Shlomo telling me I need to revise my entire PhD plan (wisely, of course), Shlomo asking me to slow down when I speak before I even open my mouth, Shlomo who loved all the latest technologies, Shlomo's smile, Shlomo's laugh, Shlomo who would ask my advice, Shlomo's words of encouragement, Shlomo who was so many people's mentor, an inspiration to everyone. Shlomo who you could talk to about almost anything. Shlomo who had a temper but always listened to the other side. Shlomo who you felt admired you like you admired him. That was his greatness. It is hard to express just how someone touches your life, I like to look at the photos I have of Shlomo in many of our lab's events and remember all the things I loved about Shlomo. In the past year, every time my 3-year old spoke in rhyme, I thought of Shlomo, who taught us word games are so important for learning later how to read. I recall the saga he had with the Israeli ministry of Education and smile knowing he had the satisfaction of knowing he was right, and today everybody knows he was.

Shlomo, I'm so sorry that you are no longer here, thank you for everything, and I hope to be more like you.


Monday, August 6, 2012

From Eric Perez

I heard the terrible news about Shlomo from a friend (Amir), when I was in the midst of preparation for my son's Bar-Mitzvah. Beyond the initial shock and disbelief, I was filled, like so many others, with deep sorrow.

I have read through so many of the posts written about Shlomo and I can comfortably agree and relate to so many of them. I worked for Shlomo when his lab was at its early stages, before it became an empire. Like many others, during the time I worked with Shlomo I have had the pleasure, and also at times the difficulty, to experience his perfectionism, his attention to details and his thoroughness. Trust me, facing Shlomo after stuffing up the connection on the EEG recording equipment, was not an easy task.
I wanted thought, to share with everyone, one aspect of Shlomo that I have had the honour to experience personally. Shlomo was not someone to go unnoticed (yes, it is an understatement), but I also believe that many of his personality aspects derived from his great integrity. When I was working on my masters in cognitive psychology, something I never completed despite Shlomo's genuine and caring protests, I conducted with him several experiments on face perception. These experiments, were eventually published as articles in renown professional magazines. Shlomo, despite the fact that he has put a massive amount of work and effort in this research, has insisted and ensured that my name is mentioned/published before his. I still recall the discussion we had about that, and how adamant he was that my name should appear before his. He explained himself calmly, without a single shroud of arrogance and in a very fatherly way, why he truly believed this is the way it should be. I was amazed and appreciative of this, to me this was another indication on how passionate he was about science and research and not the titles or "stripes" that came with being a great researcher.

I can easily sum my feelings towards Shlomo in one word, pride! I am proud to have been his student, I am proud to have been able to work for Shlomo and most of all, I am proud to have known Shlomo.

I will greatly miss you Shlomo...

Thursday, August 2, 2012

From Anat Perry


Shlomo was one of a kind. I can't find the words to explain how much he meant to me.
He was my mentor from the very start of my academic life.
He taught the most interesting class I took in the BA, which made me fall in love with the field of Neuropsychology, and join his lab as a research assistant. From then on, I never left. I had the privilege of working with Shlomo as lab manager, and under his guidance throughout my MA and PhD studies.

I remember the first time I saw him come into the lab with a new poster for a coming conference, probably one of hundreds he had presented already. I remember thinking that I would never be so passionate about my first poster, as he was about any one of his. I would keep being astonished from his enthusiasm from every new project, new experiment, new results, new ideas. And he was full of new ideas.

Shlomo's passion for science was contagious. He worked day and night, and those who worked with him closely knew that the best time to catch a good quiet talk with him was probably 2 am. This also meant you could get 'urgent' phone calls from him, about a tough paragraph or about new results, at any time of the day and every day of the week. But I had no problem continuing getting these urgent calls from him 24/7 all my life.

Shlomo taught his students to always doubt him and others, to argue but also to listen and respect, to be open to alternative explanations, to keep looking for answers but mostly to ask more questions.

Working in Shlomo's lab meant joining a big family – Shlomo truly cared about his students, their wellbeing, their academic and personal lives.  Shlomo was the first and one of the few who insisted his office should be inside the lab, so he would always be a part of what was going on. Entering the lab you would encounter scientific discussions mixed with personal stories, political arguments, frustrations and celebrations.

Throughout the years Shlomo became much more than an academic mentor to me.  We shared stories about our lives and families, our frustrations from Israeli politics and our thoughts about the future. We argued and laughed a lot. He knew when I was going through tough times, and would find the kind words to comfort or help me. I loved and valued how Shlomo never hid his thoughts and feelings, and made sure to tell me exactly what he thought about my personal decisions – whether in future career dilemmas, in clinical practice, or in choosing my partner (luckily, on that we agreed… :) ).

Of course, working together did not end when leaving the lab. I always enjoyed coming to work at Shlomo's house, joining him and Miri for coffee, sometimes accompanied by their children or grandchildren. Shlomo and Miri's house was so welcoming and warm, and I had plans to keep my visits there long after my PhD was over.
Shlomo was one of a kind.

I will miss him as a teacher, a mentor and a friend.