Published on: 15 Dec 2025

Archivist in the Spotlight: Preserving Limmud’s Story with Martin Devereux

Martin Devereux

Martin Devereux

Our third Archivist in the Spotlight blog follows Martin Devereux who has just finished cataloguing, archiving and digitising material collected over the past 40 years associated with Limmud. His work has helped preserve both the physical representations of the organisation and its memories. It’s become a record of the changes, debates and celebrations at the heart of modern Jewish life.

Discovering Limmud

Coming from outside the Jewish community, I hadn’t heard of Limmud until I saw the job posting but its history and the way it’s grown is fascinating. Limmud officially began in 1980 when a group of academics and teachers, including Alastair Falk, Michael May, Jonathan Benjamin and Clive Lawton, wanted to create a space for educators to explore Jewish learning in the modern world. Inspired by a visit to The Coalition for the Advancement of Jewish Education (CAJE) annual conference, they brought together around 150 participants in Oxford. They wanted it to be a retreat for learning, sharing, and debate and over time, it has evolved from an adult education conference into a full-scale festival, attracting thousands each year.

Limmud’s first conference programme, 1980, L-05-01-01-001

Someone once described it to me as the Jewish equivalent of Glastonbury—and they weren’t wrong! It’s intergenerational, eclectic, and full of surprises. The debates on Jewish learning and culture still happen but it’s also got everything from family craft workshops to silent discos. Last year, I was handed a slice of rum cake by a volunteer’s family, while a ukulele and violin jam session broke out in the hotel bar. It’s that growth and energy that the archive needed to reflect.

Why an Archive?

The idea for an archive came about six or seven years ago when the volunteers that run the festival realised they had collected decades of material – programmes, posters, photos – that were just in storage alongside supplies like paper plates and Sharpies. They knew it needed saving and cataloguing.

That’s where I came in. I’ve been a professional archivist for 20 years, working at places such as The Postal Museum and Guildhall Library. When I joined Limmud, I found a team of young, dynamic people who really care about what they do. They didn’t know much about the practicalities of archives, but they were eager to learn – and that made all the difference.

Archiving a community

I quickly realised that the first task was to impose order on the decades of scattered material. While Limmud had gathered a lot together, there were gaps in the story and just the sheer amount was overwhelming. Very little had been done to catalogue it, so partly it was just about going through and determining what we had and what we didn’t while navigating issues like GDPR compliance and long-term digital preservation. It’s not just the preservation of Limmud’s story – there’s the records management aspect too. 

I wanted to leave them with the tools to continue collecting records and to manage them. I’ve developed a retention schedule for them to determine what they’re going to keep and why. Is there a legal imperative for keeping a record, and for how long? Is it an evidential thing, for future research and engagement? And what happens to it afterwards? The framework is effectively an instruction manual for the office team to pull out every year and go through all the documents and say, “OK, we need to keep this, this, this and this. That’s what’s expired. Now we can delete it”.

Limmud is very much a community organisation and is run by volunteers giving up their own time to put the festival together. But the very nature of it being volunteer-led brings challenges. For instance, we know the missing 1989 programme is out there, probably in someone’s garage, but persuading busy volunteers to search their attics, or to part with cherished material, is an ongoing struggle. Even getting feedback can take months. 

And then there’s cultural sensitivity. We’re dealing with sometimes deeply personal material—notes from debates, disagreements, even scandals. It’s possible some people wouldn’t appreciate these things being unearthed. Trust-building has been essential.

Preserving through digitisation

As part of the project, The London Archives have agreed to take the physical collection. We’ve catalogued everything to professional standards so it can be ingested straight away—a privilege many community archives don’t get. 

But we were very aware that we needed a digital collection too so I devised a dual system: physical records catalogued for The London Archives, and digital copies hosted on Limmud’s own platform. 

This meant prioritising what to digitise and we decided to focus on programmes from the 1980s and 1990s. The programmes are the most consistent record of Limmud’s activities—sessions, speakers, topics and controversies. They’re a goldmine for researchers and for anyone who wants to trace the evolution of modern Jewish culture and thought. It’s not perfect but it’s a start.

Hidden gems

Some of my personal favourite finds in the collection have reflected peoples’ deep connection with the festival. I found a beautifully handwritten poem tucked into an admin file. When it was shared at a festival session it turned out the author was in the audience. Another is a whiteboard signed by volunteers for Limmud’s 30th anniversary. These just show the depth of love people have for the festival and the community that’s built up around it.

Ode to Limmud, c.2010, L-04-02-005

One of the quirkier things I found was three branded shot glasses. Whoever archived those clearly thought they were important reminders of the festival’s social spirit!

Working on the project has also changed me. Professionally, I’ve gained a deeper understanding of the digital challenges facing small organisations. Record-keeping isn’t just about archives—it’s about compliance, security, and sustainability. Even minimal improvements can make a huge difference. Personally, I came into it fully aware of my ignorance about Jewish culture. Limmud encouraged me to engage with a Jewish learning programme, and now I have monthly calls with Daphna Oren, an educator based in Washington DC. I’ve learned so much about Jewish history and tradition. It’s been incredibly rewarding.

Looking Ahead

As we prepare to hand over the physical archive to The London Archives and launch the digital catalogue, I feel proud of what we’ve achieved. This experience underscores the urgent need for better digital recordkeeping and improved support for charities to instigate effective digital records preservation. If organisations like Limmud want their history documented, they have to understand how much of their legacy is now digital and take the measures necessary for preserving it. 

But this isn’t just about preserving documents—it’s about safeguarding a cultural heartbeat for future generations. I hope the archive can be a bridge between past and future, offering resources for research, reflection, and renewal. That it can help Limmud look back—and push forward.