Five years before the end of his life, Israel’s first prime minister, David Ben-Gurion, gave six hours of interviews to an American who had recently made aliyah and moved near to Ben-Gurion’s Negev kibbutz retirement home in Sde Boker. The 1968 video footage sat undisturbed in the Steven Spielberg Jewish Film Archive in Jerusalem until it was rediscovered, but the audio was missing. Eventually, it too was found – in the Ben-Gurion archives at Sde Boker. Reunited, the six hours were whittled down by director Yariv Mozer to the one-hour film Ben-Gurion, Epilogue, which is part of this year’s Vancouver Jewish Film Festival.
Mere months after the death of his wife, Paula, Ben-Gurion reflected on his personal and public life. His Zionism was born in his Polish childhood, when the larger-than-life visionary Theodor Herzl traveled the Pale of Settlement. “When Herzl arrived in our little towns, they said, ‘Messiah’s come!’ And I believed it,” Ben-Gurion shared.
Ben-Gurion created a new life at least twice, first making aliyah and bringing to life the Jewish state, then, again, in retirement, when he retreated to the life of a simple kibbutznik in the Negev. His fascination with the desert was sparked in 1954, he said, when he was driving from Eilat back to central Israel and saw a cluster of rudimentary homes by the side of the road. He asked what they were doing there. “We were fighting in the War of Independence in this place,” the pioneers told him. “I decided to join them, to start building up, in the desert, where there is no soil, no water, no grass, no rain.”
The human side of the Ben-Gurion couple is on display through interspersed earlier footage of David and Paula together. In an interview with the BBC’s Malcolm Muggeridge, Paula says she was opposed to David’s retirement from politics. “Because he could not exist without politics,” she says.
“I can exist without politics,” he replies, without looking up.
“No you can’t,” she says. “It’s born in you.”
Likewise, when David gives a ponderous explanation of why he no longer defines himself as a Zionist, Paula deadpans, “I married a Zionist and you are not a Zionist?”
The interviewer draws Ben-Gurion into reflections on his tumultuous time in politics, including the riots that emerged in response to his decision to accept reparation payments, arms and military training from the West German government. But if the viewer is anticipating any earth-shattering revelations, Ben-Gurion is largely glib. Israel needed support and West Germany was offering.
As the Jewish people have a special role in the world, Ben-Gurion says, so does the Jewish state: to reflect the virtues set out by the Prophets. “To be just, truthful, helping all those who need help, and love other men like yourself,” the statesman says. “These are the virtues.”
“Do you think Israel is carrying out that mission?” asks the interviewer.
“Not yet,” Ben-Gurion replies instantly.
Ben-Gurion, Epilogue screens Nov. 6 and 11.
– Pat Johnson
***
In the American film Pinsky, the main character, Sophia Pinsky, has a good life: a job, a girlfriend, an apartment. But then her girlfriend leaves without saying goodbye and Sophia’s life unravels. She moves back home, to join her father, grandmother and brother, all still living together (what a miserable prospect), and the cheerless family dynamics are the focus of the movie.
The family are Russian Jews, and they are all unhappy for various reasons. Sophia works at a Russian grocery store. She feels alone, underappreciated and vulnerable. Nobody understands her. Her grandma tries to set her up with a nice Russian Jewish boy. “You’re too pretty to be a lesbian,” grandma declares, which drives Sophia bonkers.
She misses her girlfriend, she is searching for something big and beautiful, but, unfortunately, nothing even remotely resembling her dreams enters her drab life.
Depression seems to run in the family. Sophia’s brother is an alcoholic. Her father isn’t dealing well with aging. The grandmother, the only colourful character in the movie, is meddlesome and tactless, bossing around everyone in the family.
Everyone is lonely. Nobody understands one another. But, the truth is: none of them even tries to understand anyone else. Everyone concentrates on their own melancholy, hides inside their own bubbles of misery.
This movie reminded me of Chekhov’s plays: everyone is whining and nobody does anything positive. Unlike Chekhov though, this is a fragmented series of moments in the lives of different family members over a few days. The entire dysfunctional family comes under the director’s scrutiny, and all are found wanting.
Pinsky screens Nov. 9. The festival runs until Nov. 12. For the full schedule, visit vjff.org.
Author Nathan Englander with the Globe and Mail’s Marsha Lederman at an Oct. 22 event held by the Cherie Smith Jewish Book Festival, which runs Nov. 25-30. Englander was in Vancouver as part of a North American tour of his latest novel, Dinner at the Center of the Earth. For an interview with Englander, visit jewishindependent.ca/a-novel-born-of-heartbreak. (photo by Cynthia Ramsay)
Left to right: Advah Soudack, Tom Pickett and Adam Abrams co-star in Two Views from the Sylvia, playing at the Waterfront Theatre Nov. 8-12. (photo from Kol Halev)
“For me, the ‘coolest’ thing is Sylvia herself,” Advah Soudack told the Independent. “From everything I have read and heard, she was a dynamite of a woman – fiery, passionate and full of life. The woman lived until 102, for goodness sake, and did so with a heart murmur that caused much concern for doctors and her parents when she was young. I like the story of how she met her husband, Harry. The two were on a Jewish singles cruise and, when Harry witnessed Sylvia dive enthusiastically off the side of the boat, he knew in that moment that she was the gal for him. I only wish Sylvia was alive to see the show.”
Soudack takes on the role of Sylvia Ablowitz, née Goldstein, whose father, Abraham, built the Sylvia Hotel and named it after his daughter. The family’s story and stories about the renowned establishment in English Bay are depicted in Two Views from the Sylvia, which is being presented by Kol Halev Performance Society Nov. 8-12 at the Waterfront Theatre.
“This is the most ambitious show Kol Halev has produced, and their first as a registered society. But it fits perfectly into their mandate to tell stories of Jewish history and local Vancouver history, with music, song and performance, in an engaging and entertaining way,” said Adam Abrams, who plays Abraham in the production, and is also vice-president of Kol Halev. “I’m so excited to be a part of it,” he said.
Two Views from the Sylvia is comprised of two original one-act plays. Its genesis can be traced back some four years, to a Jewish psychology network meeting attended by Kol Halev president Sue Cohene and Ablowitz’s great-niece, Marsha Ablowitz, who pitched the story of her famous great-aunt to Cohene. In mid-2013, members of Kol Halev met with Marsha Ablowitz and her mother, Sally Seidler, who is now 99 years old.
By August 2013, Joan Stuchner had drafted the first two pages of a play. A few months later, Deborah Vogt joined the writing team, with she and Abrams assisting Stuchner. Sadly, Stuchner died in June 2014 of pancreatic cancer and Vogt had to complete the script without her.
Vogt’s one-act play, Sylvia’s Hotel, with music by Britt MacLeod and Kerry O’Donovan, lyrics by MacLeod, is set in 1912, and focuses on the origins of the hotel and on the Ablowitz-Goldstein family. “Both young Sylvia Goldstein and Joe Fortes, the beloved lifeguard who taught Vancouver children to swim, experience the challenges of those who didn’t quite ‘belong’ in the Vancouver of the time,” notes the promotional material. It forms Act 1 of Two Views from the Sylvia.
Act 2, called The Hotel Sylvia, is by Cathy Moss and Kelsey Blair. It focuses on the period after the building of the hotel, and “we meet the characters whose lives and loves became interwoven with the story of the Sylvia over her 100-year history.”
In Act 1, most of the characters are based on real people, members of the Goldstein family and Fortes. In Act 2, most of the characters are composites of more than one person or story, notably the character of Franny, who is a nod to a longtime Sylvia employee.
“Several of the stories told in this one act play are the stories as told to Cathy Moss and me by Huguette Gingras, who was the front-desk clerk at the Sylvia Hotel for 35 years,” said Cohene.
Tom Pickett, who plays Fortes in Act 1, plays the character of John in Act 2. “Though John is an independent character, he cares about the Sylvia the way Joe cares about the kids and English Bay so, in my mind, I imbue a hint of John with a bit of Joe and maybe vice versa,” said the actor.
Pickett – who said he has played Fortes a few times before – was immediately on board when he heard that Christopher King was the director and Shelly Stewart Hunt was the choreographer of the production. “Then I had the pleasure of talking with Sue Cohene on the phone and the connection was instantaneous,” he told the Independent. “And then, as we began rehearsals, the artistic opportunities to honour a Vancouver landmark like the Sylvia and represent a historical figure like Joe Fortes deepened. I think many people know of the Sylvia but don’t know a lot about the Sylvia. I’ve done a gospel concert at the Sylvia, my wife’s cousin from Montreal always stays at the Sylvia, my mechanic, the teller at my bank, the list goes on.”
“It seems that everyone has a story or a connection to the Sylvia,” agreed Abrams, “so it’s exciting to be telling a story about something so iconic, that means so much to people in Vancouver. And though I’m thrilled to have a great role, I’ve been mostly just impressed with what everyone else is bringing to it. There are some really beautiful moments both visually and dramatically, and some wonderful music, too. I think people are going to leave the theatre humming the title theme, ‘At the Sylvia’!”
About his character in Act 1, Abrams said, “Abe is someone who wants more than just personal success, he really wants to make his city a better place and feels the hotel will help achieve that. He’s also proud of his Jewish heritage and wants to show what his people can accomplish – despite facing a lot of the prejudice that was so common at that time.”
In Act 2, Abrams plays Mr. Lowry, “the manager of the present-day Sylvia, [who] is trying out Franny for the front-desk job to see how she does. He just shows up a couple of times, but I’m finding a lot of little moments of humour in his appearances.”
In preparing for the show, Soudack met with Marsha Ablowitz. “I not only flipped through piles of photos and heard stories,” said Soudack, “but also held Sylvia’s hairbrush, mirror and curling iron with her initials gracefully engraved on them in my hands. If the audience is paying close attention, they may even catch a glimpse of these artifacts in the show.”
While Sylvia appears in Act 1, she is only talked about in Act 2. In the second half of the production, Soudack plays Nora, who appears, said Soudack, “as a flashback to the Sylvia during the Second World War.”
“She is an interesting character, not only because of her independent nature, but also because of the times in which she would exercise this independence,” said the actor. “Nora, as explained by her daughter Gloria in Act 2, would visit the Sylvia twice a year. Gloria mentions that her mother, Nora, would come to write in her journal. She made a routine of it and even wore the same blue dress…. It turns out that she didn’t always come to write in her journal, she would also come to the Sylvia to dance.
“For me,” said Soudack, “Nora is an intriguing character to play because there has to be a reason why she came to the Sylvia and did so year after year. In the script, she talks about ‘taking a night off from everything.’ She mentions things about the war, headlines, air-raid precautions, however, as the actress, I choose to dig deeper and find what else she is ‘escaping’ from and taking the night off from…. There is a pure innocence to Nora going to the Sylvia twice a year to write in her journal and dance, but is there also an alter ego or an alternate life she desperately wants to explore?”
Other Jewish community members in the cast are Anna-Mae Wiesenthal and Joyce Gordon, while Heather Martin is associate producer and Gwen Epstein is on the production team. The Jewish Museum and Archives of British Columbia has created a photo exhibit, which will be on display at the theatre.
“Lots of things are very exciting,” said Cohene, “like watching amazingly creative choreography being developed on the spot. Hearing beautiful singing by the cast makes me want to sing along. I don’t – I am the producer and need to remember my role.
“I hope that people who come to the show are aware that we are a community theatre group. We are so fortunate to have the wonderful participation of two professional actors,” she said, referring to Pickett and Soudack, “who work alongside our very talented group of emerging actors. Kol Halev strives to be inclusive, accommodating performers of all ages, backgrounds and levels of experience. We aim to offer the opportunity to learn and create, in all aspects of our production. I’m hoping that this value is appreciated when the public sees the show.”
For tickets ($28) – and a chance to win free ones with your story of the Sylvia – visit kolhalev.ca.
Like one of her favourite romantic comedies, Crossing Delancey, writer-director Rachel Israel’s narrative feature debut, Keep the Change, is a New York love story with a tangible Jewish undercurrent.
The romantic duo in the Vancouver Jewish Film Festival’s opening night selection readily self-identify as Jewish, but they share another quality that for most people primarily defines them: David (Brandon Polansky) and Sarah (Samantha Elisofon) are on the autism spectrum.
Refreshingly honest and sexually straightforward in its portrayal of the way people with autism interact with each other, with their families and with strangers, Keep the Change received two prizes when it premièred at the Tribeca Film Festival in April.
“A few of the characters are naturally unfiltered in the way they talk about sex, and I thought it was a beautiful and fun aspect of the characters,” Israel explained in a phone interview.
“A lot of depictions of people with autism shy away from sex, and I think it’s important to show that people on the spectrum have sex lives,” she said. “To shy away from it is in some way demeaning or infantilizing.”
Keep the Change receives its Canadian première when it opens the VJFF Nov. 2 at Fifth Avenue Cinemas, followed by a Nov. 12 screening at the Rothstein Theatre. It also screens Nov. 19 at the Roxy Theatre, as part of the Victoria International Jewish Film Festival.
Israel spent her childhood in the Princeton, N.J., area and her adolescence and teen years in Boca Raton, Fla., before pursuing her undergraduate degree at the Rhode Island School of Design. She moved to New York for her graduate studies in film at Columbia, where she refocused her first screenplay from a drama about David’s family to an endearing, awkward and rocky love story between he and Sarah.
Israel set about making a short film, and discovered a community of people with autism at the Manhattan Jewish Community Centre. She cast Brandon and Samantha and, some five years later, asked them to reprise their roles for a feature.
“Brandon’s search for love and companionship, and possibly sexual experience, is a defining part of his personality,” Israel said. “When I met him, I didn’t know he was on the spectrum … until he told me. When he told me he had autism, it was an awakening, because I thought of someone like Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man, someone who shies away from contact. And that was very much not the way Brandon was.”
His character’s Jewishness is front and centre, which may feed into some viewers’ judgment of his ostentatiously wealthy parents (played by Jewish actors Jessica Walter and Tibor Feldman). Sarah’s Jewish identity is much less pronounced but it could be a plus – in theory – in winning David’s parents’ acceptance.
“He is quietly desperate to have a girl, so it wouldn’t have stopped him at all [if Sarah wasn’t Jewish],” Israel said. “But it’s a big thing for many Jewish parents for your kids to stay in the tribe. He thinks that it will please his parents. But, more than that, for himself he wants some traditional things for his life. He wants a permanent loving relationship. I think he thinks that should be marriage. He very much wants the things that he’s seen his peers from childhood acquire, and he doesn’t understand why he shouldn’t have them.”
David and Sarah are fictional versions of the real people.
“We wrote it in collaboration with the cast, but they are playing fictional characters,” Israel emphasized. “They are not playing themselves. We’ve created characters that had some of their tendencies, while other things were different. They could definitely draw upon who they were to inform their characters.”
After Tribeca, Israel screened Keep the Change at the Los Angeles Film Festival and at Karlovy Vary in the Czech Republic, where it won two more prizes. Her grandfather, a financial supporter of the film, who escaped Czechoslovakia at 14 on one of the Kindertransports organized by Sir Nicholas Winton, attended the festival with Israel and the film.
For tickets and the full schedule for the VJFF (Nov. 2-12) and VIJFF (Nov. 18-21), visit vjff.org and vijff.ca, respectively.
– Michael Fox
***
About two dozen of the most popular Christmas songs were written by Jewish composers. An engaging documentary by Canadian producers, Dreaming of a Jewish Christmas, uses this fact as a jumping off point to explore the varied issues around Jewish relationships with Christmas, including Chinese food, the Chanukah-Christmas competition and some Jews’ conflicting desire to both fit in and remain distinctive from the majority culture.
The dreamlike documentary takes a retro, festive approach to the topic, beginning with a family of four arriving at a Chinese restaurant, circa the 1960s. Here, the wide-eyed children drink in the scene as waiters and fellow patrons break into song and chefs engage in kitchen percussions and choreography. Talking heads intersperse with these song-and-dance routines to explore, in an amusing way, the sometimes deep and multifaceted connections between Jews and the inescapable December holiday.
Jewish songsters are responsible for familiar tunes like “Walking in a Winter Wonderland” (Felix Bernard, born Felix William Bernhardt), “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire” (Mel Tormé and Robert Wells, born Levinson) and “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” (George Wyle, born Bernard Weissman). The propensity for changing Jewish-sounding surnames is also addressed.
Mark Breslin, the founder of Yuk Yuk’s comedy club chain, puts a fine point on the Jewish role in Christmas music. “You could write a song three percent of the population would buy the record or you could write a song that 97% of the population will buy the record,” he says. “The businessman in me says go for the bigger market.”
Another comedian, Jackie Mason, dismisses the idea that there is anything odd about people writing songs about a holiday that is not their own. “Who cares if it’s your own holiday?” Mason says. “If I see a lot of cows on the street, am I going to write about a cow? Do I have to be a partner with cows, do I have to live with cows, to write a song about them? If everybody’s a Christian, that’s an easier sale, isn’t it?”
One commentator notes that almost all the Christmas carols written by Jews were what could be called “secular” songs. They are not about the birth of Jesus but about chestnuts, snow and winter coziness, reinforcing a new mythology that was emerging in the middle of the 20th century, which turned Christmas into a non-denominational winter celebration. In this, Jews and other non-Christians could more fully participate.
Ron Sidran, author of There Was a Fire: Jews, Music and the American Dream, cites Irving Berlin’s “White Christmas,” sung by Bing Crosby in the 1942 film Holiday Inn, as a turning point. “That song is the song where Irving Berlin de-Christs Christmas,” he says. “He turns Christmas into a holiday about snow.”
Calgary-born Ophira Eisenberg, who hosts NPR’s Ask Me Another radio quiz show, recalls receiving Chanukah gifts so she wouldn’t feel left out when her friends were getting visits from Santa. When the young Ophira asked her mother who the gifts came from, she was told that Moses came down from the mountain each year bringing presents to good little Jewish boys and girls. “Presents of dreidels and socks,” she adds wryly.
And while one speaker claims that Jewish composers wrote Christmas songs not as Jews, but as Americans, music journalist Robert Harris says “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” is explicitly Jewish.
Rudolph’s creator, Robert May, said that he based the story of the reindeer – with his prominent nose, who was excluded from games with his peers and called names – on his own childhood as a Jewish American in the first half of the 20th century.
“And you know what’s incredible about Rudolph?” Harris says. “Rudolph doesn’t get a nose job. The point of Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer is not for Rudolph to blend in and become another reindeer. The point of Rudolph is for Rudolph to be appreciated for what he is.” Dreaming of a Jewish Christmas screens at the Vancouver Jewish Film Festival on Nov. 5.
– Pat Johnson
***
In Maysaloun Hamoud’s Bar Bahar (In Between), three young Palestinian women share an apartment in Tel Aviv as they struggle with the issues of religion, sexuality and overall identity. They live “in between” cultures. They are not Israeli enough – they are Palestinian, and are reminded of that fact occasionally. They are not Palestinian enough either – they want to escape the traditional role of a Palestinian woman. Centuries-old traditions and modernity clash in this film, as each of the main characters undergoes her own challenges and heartaches.
Leila is a lawyer. Educated, sophisticated and beautiful, she drinks and parties, smokes constantly and does drugs, but, in her heart, she wants to find love and purpose. While she doesn’t forgive betrayal, she is generous and kind to her friends – no matter how lousy she feels, how much she mourns her unfulfilled dreams, she is always ready to help her roommates.
Selma is a bartender and a lesbian, but her parents can’t even hear the word, much less accept their daughter’s sexual orientation. Their confrontation on screen is painful to watch. The parents are overwrought, unable to come to terms with their daughter’s choices. Selma herself is full of anguish, torn between her parents and her lover, even though she doesn’t say a word. Only her father talks, or rather screams, furiously. Her conflict and her parents’ desperation are powerful.
Nour is a university student, studying computer science. Religious and quiet, she wears a hijab and tries to reconcile herself with the traditional role of a Palestinian woman. Unlike her two roommates, she is not an overt rebel. She is betrothed, but her fiancé is scary and repulsive in his hypocrisy; he demands unquestioning compliance, and she tries, but she doesn’t love him.
The rape scene in the movie is not graphic, but its impact is immense. The incident and its aftermath puts all the relationships into perspective. It tests all three women’s courage and their humanity. It shows their capacity for compassion and their resilience.
The movie is simple on the surface, just a few days in the women’s lives, but a lot goes on behind the scenes, providing a multifaceted view of life in today’s Israel. All three roommates are living, breathing women, hoping for a better life, helping each other to achieve it. As much as the movie is their story, its themes are universal.
The film won several Israeli and international awards, and all of the awards are well-deserved.
Bar Bahar screens at the Vancouver Jewish Film Festival on Nov. 5.
Breakfast at Andrésy circa 1945. René Goldman is holding his bowl out for more food. The children peering through the windows are from another dining room, who had likely finished their meal but had not yet been given permission to leave. (photo from memoirs.azrielifoundation.org)
René Goldman’s account of his childhood – A Childhood Adrift (Azrieli Foundation) – is set in Belgium and France during the Second World War, when Hitler’s plan was to annihilate all European Jews. Each European Jewish child was automatically sentenced to death. Only between six and 11% of European children survived the Holocaust. Ironically, this memoir describes both a heartbreaking and an uplifting story of one Jewish boy’s struggle to stay alive and sane despite all odds against him.
A Childhood Adrift is both personal and, at the same time, an important historical document. The story, written with a spatter of tongue-in-cheek humour, is a fascinating labyrinth of multiple narratives; stories within stories. It is not only about René the child, but also René the man, who revisits the past and examines the wounds left by war.
Goldman weaves his experiences throughout the periods of war and postwar, when he is a young man who travels back to the places that sheltered him and other children lost in the horror of war. The entire narrative is skilfully infused not only with historical and political facts but with the geography of various places so poignantly described one can feel and see them.
Goldman writes about the time when children lost parents, siblings and homes. These children had to depend on the kindness of strangers or were left alone to fend for themselves.
Goldman was 6 years old when the Nazis invaded his native Luxembourg, where he was born, and Belgium, where his family had taken refuge. In 1942, the family fled Belgium for France. From the last station before the French border, they walked on foot to the Demarcation Line between the German Occupied Zone and the Free Zone. No sooner did they cross the line than they were arrested by the French police, who were rounding up Jews escaping from the Occupied Zone, and the family was interned in Lons-le-Saunier. On Aug. 26, Goldman and his mother were taken to the city’s train station for deportation. His aunt appeared from nowhere and tried to take him away, but to no avail. Eventually, she found someone in authority to send two officers to rescue the young boy and save him from boarding the train. His mother was already in one of the cars waving goodbye as the train was pulling out of the station. This was the last time Goldman saw his mother. He was 8 years old.
His father disappeared that morning and it was only in 1944 that Goldman was reunited with him for a brief time, until his father was arrested and taken away. Only after the war did Goldman find out that his father died at the end of the death march from Auschwitz, in January 1945.
In 1942, Goldman was placed in the care of the OSE (Oeuvre de Secours aux Enfants) and brought to Château du Masgelier. After two weeks, he was taken to the village of Vendoeuvres, where a young couple offered to take care of him. Soon afterward, the Free Zone was invaded by the Germans.
What followed for Goldman were moves to several homes due to the changing circumstances, which necessitated a constant search for safe places for children.
Left an orphan in 1945, Goldman was placed in the care of the CCE (Commission Centrale de l’Enfance), an organization inspired by communist ideology, which was instrumental in shaping his political beliefs. His faith in this system remained unshaken until he lived in Poland for three years, when he became disillusioned, even shocked, by it.
He writes, “I can now in all candidness recognize that I caught myself wondering whether communism was not the greatest lie of the century, if not of all time.”
Goldman’s narrative strength, among his many others, leans towards the lyrical.
One of the immediate postwar places to which Goldman was moved in France was the town of Andrésy and its Manoir de Denouval, which inspired poetic instincts in him. Here, he found the beauty of gardens and serenity, a “sanctuary” that shielded him for a time from his loneliness and the postwar chaotic reality. Interestingly, Marc Chagall, who donated funds for the children’s care, would occasionally visit the manor.
“I was enthralled with the Enchanted Manor,” writes Goldman. “It nourished in me a fascination with mystery as I explored it for hidden nooks and ventured up the narrow winding steps that led to the turret, sometimes even in the dark of night.” And, indeed, these were dark times in the young boy’s life for it was then that he realized he was an orphan.
Friendships played a huge part during the war and in the postwar period. In the boys and girls Goldman befriended along the way, and some of the kind teachers, he found a certain relief from the loneliness he felt, and from the lack of affection and support. One person who played an important role in his life was Sophie Micnic, who became his caregiver and friend. This woman, a founding leader of the MOI, the Jewish communist resistance movement in Paris and Lyon during the war, later became the director of CCE. It was she who took Goldman under her wing, and recommended that he live in the “Enchanted Manor.”
A Childhood Adrift – a must-read – is a powerful testimony of a child’s response to the calamities of war and their everlasting imprint on his life. It is also a statement of courage and survival in the face of adversity. Eventually, Goldman developed a tremendous hunger for knowledge, education and a desire for communication in as many as 10 languages.
In the last section of the book, the author reveals himself as a poet and a grown man still deeply immersed in his past.
Lillian Boraks-Nemetz is a Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre outreach speaker, an award-winning author, an instructor at the University of British Columbia’s Writing Centre and the editor of the No Longer Alone section of VHEC’s Zachor, in which a longer version of this book review was originally published. René Goldman will be the keynote speaker at the community’s Kristallnacht commemoration on Nov. 5, 7 p.m., at Congregation Beth Israel. Copies of his memoir will be distributed to those in attendance. Holocaust survivors are invited to light a memorial candle. The ceremony is presented by VHEC, Beth Israel and the Azrieli Foundation. For Pat Johnson’s review of Goldman’s book, which was initially called A Childhood on the Move, visit jewishindependent.ca/fragmented-childhood.
From the left: Zack Gallery’s Linda Lando and jewelry artists Julie Kemble and Barbara Cohen. (photo from Zack Gallery)
Just as our clothing defines us to some degree, so does the jewelry we wear. Our choices often reflect not only our likes or dislikes, but how brave we are and how adventurous. The current group show at the Zack Gallery, called Light, features a range of unusual jewelry, from stylish and graceful, to whimsical, to outrageous. Practically everything on display, with the exception of a couple of metal sculptures, could be worn, and the gallery supplies a mirror for those intrepid souls who dare to try the pieces on.
Presented by the Vancouver Metal Arts Association, the exhibit introduces jewelry made not only of traditional materials, like silver, but of many unorthodox materials and objects, some of which have never been considered for adornment, until recently.
“These pieces remind me of far-away places, of mystery and romance. Some of them – you need a large personality to wear,” said Julie Kemble, the association’s liaison for the show.
According to Kemble, the show’s title, Light, invokes different interpretations. “We want to bring light into our works, into the lives of our artists and the people who wear our creations,” she said, adding that the association encourages artists to use alternative materials as well, like plastic or fabrics.
As did several other participants in the exhibit, Kemble started out as an amateur artist. She was a university teacher for many years.
“I always liked art,” she told the Independent. “At first, it was a hobby, but it is much more now. I began with textiles and gravitated towards metal and jewelry about 20 years ago. Metal allows a certain immediacy. You see right away what’s coming out of your hands.”
She explained that this show is the association’s fifth annual one and the second at the Zack. “We want to increase the profile of art jewelry in Vancouver,” she said. “That’s why this is a juried show. We invited the judges and jewelry artists from across Canada.”
Some of those artists are professionals, while others are taking their first steps on the artistic road. One of the beginners is Raymond Schwartz, but nobody would guess that by looking at his sterling silver necklaces. Elegant, sophisticated and relatively smaller than some other pieces on display, they represent a more traditional approach to jewelry.
“I’m brand new to jewelry,” he said. “I started two years ago. I’ve always been artistic, always liked doing things with my hands, but my business was construction. Now, I’m getting older, so I began making jewelry. It’s like construction, but making mini things. I also paint oils, but jewelry allows both creativity and working with my hands; it fills the void.”
This show is Schwartz’s first, although he has already sold some of his pieces.
Barbara Cohen, meanwhile, is a professional jewelry-maker with years of experience. “My background was in textile before I switched to metal. Now, I’m moving away from metal, too, using more of other materials,” she said. “I like the scale of jewelry. It is portable art.
“It’s also the most understated form of communication. When you wear a piece of original jewelry, it often starts conversations. I curated several jewelry exhibitions. Sometimes, I would wear a piece from the show, and people would admire it and ask me where it came from. They didn’t notice it in a display case but they noticed it around my neck. Jewelry should be worn. That’s why we have a mirror in the gallery, so people could see themselves wearing our art.”
Her necklaces, asymmetrical and quirky, draw the eye. Their patterns and textures make people wonder and try to decipher the artist’s ideas. They definitely start conversations.
Zula, also a professional artist, represents an extreme trend in jewelry-making. Her pieces, part of her new Neon Love collection, are a bright acrylic extravaganza, playful and flashy and fairly large. They use geometric shapes and are not for the faint of heart. It is a new development for the young artist, an experimental departure from her more traditional plant-patterned collection in silver and copper.
“I had a health crisis recently,” Zula explained. “I lost my hair to alopecia. Now I’m bald, but I chose not to wear a wig. I asked myself, what is my identity now? If I was a brunette before, am I still a brunette? I had this colourful plastic in my studio and I started playing with it. I needed to be edgy, and my new pieces provide that. They interact with light.”
Many other artists are part of the Light exhibit, which runs until Nov. 12.
Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].
Noa Koler in The Wedding Plan, which screens Nov. 9 at Fifth Avenue Cinemas. (photo from Roadside Attractions)
The grin-inducing trailer for The Wedding Plan nonetheless suggests one question – did Israeli filmmaker Rama Burshtein sell out?
The Orthodox writer-director’s acclaimed debut, Fill the Void, was an uncompromising story of a young Orthodox woman grappling with her parents’ and community’s expectations regarding her prospective husband. In contrast, The Wedding Plan, while also being chuppah-bound, appears from the trailer to be a romantic comedy designed to entertain.
In fact, The Wedding Plan is a high-stakes emotional journey about an observant woman in her 30s who’s so unhappy that she resolves to wed on the last night of Chanukah – with no groom in sight – after her fiancé breaks up with her mere weeks before their appointed date. Michal’s family and friends counsel against such a bold, risky and potentially devastating strategy, but she remains undeterred.
The film contains plenty of witty one-liners but, as the Israeli trailer conveyed, it’s not a disposable sitcom. Burshtein has assuredly not sold out. She simply trusted her U.S. distributor’s marketing strategy, even if some ticket-buyers are misled.
“If you think you’re going to see a romantic comedy and you get something more, that’s good,” said Burshtein. “You get something stronger and that’s OK.”
The Wedding Plan screens on Nov. 9, 4 p.m., at Fifth Avenue Cinemas as part of this year’s Vancouver Jewish Film Festival.
Both of Burshtein’s films raise a curtain on the lives of Orthodox women, in part through honest conversations they have among themselves when men aren’t around. The characters reject the idea that Orthodox women are subservient to men and, unsurprisingly, so does their creator.
“For me,” said Burshtein, “being religious is liberating. It’s not killing or closing or not letting me express my thoughts.”
Burshtein goes even further, asserting that women are the creative force.
“The art world is women,” she said. “[Orthodox] men don’t make films, they don’t cook, they don’t paint.”
Burshtein originally pitched The Wedding Plan as a television series, but, after getting the green light and embarking on the script, she decided it would be a feature film. Although she doesn’t say it, a movie is seen by more people around the world than an Israeli TV show.
“I’m writing from my world to the outside world,” the filmmaker explained in a phone interview during a press day in Washington, D.C. “Not [just] to secular people but to non-Jews. It opens a window to my world to people who know nothing about my world.”
Burshtein was born in New York and became religious while she was in film school in Jerusalem in the 1980s. She admits she didn’t expect the attention her films have received abroad, but at the same time isn’t surprised they touch audiences far beyond Tel Aviv and New York.
“We live in an age when women find their partner pretty late,” she said. “And sometimes they don’t. It’s very hard to find someone that you really want to share your life with. [My films] connect to that. All over the world, it’s the same thing, the same heart.”
The Wedding Plan is unmistakably and unapologetically set in the Orthodox community but the crux of the film is Michal’s urgent personal quest. Although her ostensible goal is to get married, a raw and powerful opening scene makes it clear that what she really craves and seeks is the respect of a committed partner.
Michal’s striving is universal and at times absurd, which spawns the film’s humour. Because she has no time to waste, Michal (played by the fearless Noa Koler) confronts every prospective suitor with direct questions and shockingly honest confessions that derail and discomfit them.
Michal’s pain and desperation are palpable through the laughs, to the point where she makes a pilgrimage to Ukraine to the grave of Rabbi Nachman of Breslov. That’s not an incidental detail, for Burshtein is a proponent of Rabbi Nachman’s philosophy.
“We can handle despair, and we can handle hope,” she said. “The film is that movement between the two. You should be a fighter in the movement, and not get lost in the movement.”
The Vancouver Jewish Film Festival runs Nov. 2-9 at Fifth Avenue Cinemas and Nov. 10-12 at the Rothstein Theatre. For tickets and the full schedule, as well as the trailer for The Wedding Plan, visit vjff.org.
Michael Foxis a writer and film critic living in San Francisco.
Dulcinea Langfelder, being carried by Eric Gingras, in Victoria, which is at Massey Theatre for two shows only next week. (photo from Dulcinea Langfelder & Co.)
Victoria is coming to New Westminster next week for two shows only. Created and performed by Dulcinea Langfelder, a versatile dancer, multimedia performer and award-winning choreographer from Montreal, Victoria is about old age and young spirit, about laughter in the face of tragedy.
Langfelder started her life in New York. She studied ballet and pantomime, singing and acting. After a few years in Europe, including London and Paris, she moved to Montreal in 1978 to join La Troupe Omnibus. Since then, Montreal has been her home. In 1985, she founded her own company, Virtuous Circle Dance Theatre. In 1997, the company changed its name to Dulcinea Langfelder & Co.
Langfelder loves Montreal and can’t imagine living anywhere else. “The city is effervescent, young culturally compared to New York or Paris,” she said. “Fewer boundaries between categories, and close enough to New York to visit my mom. Why on earth would I want to live elsewhere?”
The same philosophy applies to her choreography and performing. Why on earth would she do anything else? “For the moment, I can still do what I love to do, and I believe that it’s important to see older people on stage. Art has always been the most effective way to influence our attitudes. Victoria gives voice to those who have ‘disappeared’ through aging – but we are still alive and kicking!”
Although it’s hard to pinpoint Victoria’s exact theatrical classification, Langfelder said, “It is a multidisciplinary and multimedia work for the stage. There really is no major discipline. I work with the elements on my palette: movement (I guess I do always put that one first), text, humour, dramatic – through line, projected imagery, music and a bit of puppetry. Everything is choreographed, not just the movement.”
The heroine, Victoria, is “a wheelchair-bound 90-year-old, suffering from the loss of memory, autonomy and just about everything else,” reads the press release. But Langfelder melds poignant and funny in this show of an elderly woman’s courage. Victoria premièred in 1999, and Langfelder told the Independent about its origins.
“In 1994, an actor friend of mine, Charles Fariala, who also worked as an orderly and knew that I have a penchant for tragicomedy, called me to say, ‘You must meet Victor, an old man in a wheelchair who’s lost his memory; sometimes I wonder if he’s just gaga or if he’s discovered Nirvana.’ I immediately responded, ‘We’ll call her Victoria!’ I was intrigued by the question: Where do we find our mental victory when we we’ve lost our physical power?”
Inspired by the concept, Fariala and Langfelder started working on the project. “Charles wrote pages of text, which I re-worked,” said Langfelder. “I also incorporated a lot of text that came from Angel Petrilli, a woman who became the principal model for the character, although there were other people as well, including my own father. But this piece is multidisciplinary and multimedia, so the ‘script’ is composed of text, choreography, song and projected imagery. It was written in concert with all of my collaborators; I created the choreography.”
One of the most unusual aspects of the show is that the protagonist is bound to her wheelchair. “It is hard to tame the wheelchair beast,” Langfelder admitted, “but fascinating for a mover!”
The show’s success and longevity – 18 years now – surprises even its creator. “I didn’t think it would fly at all, with such taboo subject matter,” she said. “But I discovered that audiences had been starving to have this conversation in a non-depressing way. While treating this subject as accurately as I can, Victoria is an uplifting piece, because there really are rich, poetic and hilarious moments when dealing with dementia and the end of life. We just underline those moments, without taking the subject matter lightly.”
Like every performer, Langfelder knows that art must change with time, that an actor should be flexible in her communication with different audiences. Victoria is no exception to this rule. “It changed a lot in the first years,” Langfelder explained, “then subtle changes. It adapted to different languages and cultures, though it clearly reminds us of what we have in common around the world. We’ve done this piece everywhere from Japan to Zimbabwe, in seven languages.”
One of the latest changes was adding another actress to play the title role. “I recently realized that this piece could live longer than I will,” said Langfelder. “I trained Anne Sabourin in the role. She plays Victoria in French.”
Langfelder herself plays Victoria in English in every show, in every country, and the reception has been overwhelmingly favourable, but that is not enough for the actress. “The Victoria project is about touring the piece for the general audience it was designed for,” she said. “Plus, we work hard to get those who can most benefit, and are the least likely to frequent the theatre: seniors and family/professional caregivers. The way we get them to the theatre, and Victoria can’t be done anywhere else, is that we go to them first. We offer workshops that answer their immediate needs, like non-verbal communication, movement for seniors and seminars on creativity, humour and dementia. Then we use the opportunity to make them understand that theatre can actually be useful, even more useful than workshops. We invite them to the theatre.”
Like her heroine, Langfelder meets her challenges with a smile. “I love making people laugh at difficult situations,” she said. “It makes me feel useful. My father’s last words to me, before his stroke, were in response to me complaining about my challenges. He said, ‘You mustn’t get discouraged, because what you do is so important! You put human dilemma on stage and allow us to laugh at it; what could be more important than that?’ I had just begun working on Victoria, and he never saw it. I become him when I play Victoria.”
Victoria is at the Massey Theatre in New Westminster on Oct. 27 and 28. For tickets, visit ticketsnw.ca or call 604-521-5050.
Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].
To all those who believe in marrying for love, Montreal-based matchmaker Rabbi Yisroel Bernath asks, “What happens when the romance fails?”
Bernath is spiritual director at Chabad of Notre-Dame-de-Grâce and a chaplain at Concordia University. Known by some as “the Love Rabbi,” he is at the centre of the documentary Kosher Love, which can be see at this year’s Vancouver Jewish Film Festival on Nov. 5, 4 p.m., at Fifth Avenue Cinemas.
The film’s mostly light tone and creative compilation, which includes animation, make for an interesting peek into the ultra-Orthodox world and how its members meet one another, marry and start a family. Bernath seems like an affable man, even though he divides North America’s Jews into only three groups – those who watch Seinfeld and eat bagels, those who are Orthodox and those who are Chassidim – never mind the scores of other affiliations and levels of observance.
What is particularly compelling is that Bernath is open to hearing, if not being swayed by, different points of view. There is one scene between the rabbi and a married couple he matched, in which the woman is comfortable and confident enough to strongly present her opinion that love is a vital part of a relationship. She doesn’t back down when Bernath accuses her of being overly romantic, but rather digs her heels in and tells him, with some vehemence, that she doesn’t agree with him.
Viewers also meet a nightmare mother and son. The mother, whose daughters have both married, is quite obnoxiously desperate to marry off her 33-year-old son. But the man-child YoNatan, a DJ, is clearly more in love with himself and his music than he could ever be with anyone else. YoNatan was never going to add to Bernath’s total of 50-plus successful matches.
As the Montreal Gazette noted in its review, “Regardless of the personalities in Kosher Love, it really transcends religion in touching on universal themes. It is the view of Bernath that love develops over time, but that in today’s fast-paced world, few have the patience to wait.” When and how love develops, and how it can be nurtured, are all worthwhile ideas to consider, and director Evan Beloff offers a charming and engaging introduction to some Jewish thoughts on the subject.
Beloff will be at the film festival’s Nov. 5 screening. For tickets and the festival schedule, visit vjff.org.