In 1995, at a memorial honoring the recently assassinated Prime Minister of Israel
Yitzhak Rabin, a 40x60 photograph of Rabin hung behind the podium. During her
speech, Rabin's widow Lea pronounced, "When I look at that portrait by Al Gilbert, I
think my husband's alive." Praise doesn't get much higher.

For nearly half a century, Gilbert has been photographing the prime ministers of Israel,
working through security, setting, and even occasional spouse difficulties to create his
memorable images. In 1958, when he received the phone call to photograph David Ben-
Gurion at a hotel in Toronto, he only had a few hours to prepare. He expected to
photograph the prime minister alone, but found instead that Ben-Gurion was having a
meeting with ten other people. In addition to this audience, Ben-Gurion's wife Paula
was in attendance. She questioned Gilbert about why he was bothering her husband, but
the prime minister graciously intervened for the young photographer. He asked Gilbert
how many photographs he would like to take. When Gilbert suggested four, Ben-Gurion
replied that he could take five. This foray into photographing high-ranking Israeli
officials foreshadowed both the successful shots Gilbert would capture over the years as
well as the obstacles around which he would have to maneuver.

His next assignment was Abba Eban, the first Israeli representative to the United
Nations and the recipient of the Israel Prize, the nation's highest honor. When Gilbert
arrived to photograph the diplomat, he saw instantly that Eban's glasses needed to be
cleaned before they began. When Eban handed over the specs, they fell apart.
Miraculously, Gilbert managed to find all the pins, repair the glasses, and take the
photograph, further cementing his reputation in the eyes of Israeli officials.

Because Gilbert had already proved himself with Ben-Gurion and Eban, arrangements
to photograph Prime Minster Levi Eshkol were made easily. However, when Gilbert
arrived at the airport where the shoot was to take place, he realized that eyeglasses
would once again present a problem\u2014Eshkol's thick lenses would never photograph
well. Thinking on his feet, Gilbert ran into an optometrist's shop across the street and
borrowed a pair of frames without lenses. The trick worked, and the image turned out so
well that it later became an Israeli stamp.