Cassandra Freeman

Opening of hearts

In this Vancouver Playback Theatre screenshot are, top row, left to right, Peter Abrams, Diandra Lee and Laen Hershler; middle row from left, Ingrid Broussillon, Joel Bronstein and Louise Lemieux; and Carol Ann Fried.

If you want to see tikkun olam in action, see the next performance of Vancouver Playback Theatre (VPT). For the last 23 years, the ensemble has been retelling audience participants’ life stories with sensitivity and compassion.

At VPT’s March 6 show, brightly coloured scarves, banners, dance, piano music and improvisation “played back” individual audience experiences of and the accompanying emotions caused by antisemitic events and other forms of discrimination.

“We really want audience members to feel seen, understood, and learn from the playback experience,” VPT’s Peter Abrams told the Jewish Independent.

Fellow Jewish community and troupe member Joel Bronstein added, “Our work takes audience members out of their heads and into their hearts … when people share their feelings and life experiences in a safe and supportive environment, there is a collective opening of our hearts, even when it is light and funny.”

Playback Theatre was created in New York 47 years ago with the intention of returning theatre to its storytelling and community-building roots. With troupes now established worldwide, Playback Theatre directly engages participants in sharing experiences and ideas related to themes of importance to them individually, and as groups, organizations and communities.

Abrams, Bronstein and Carol Ann Fried, who is also a member of the Jewish community, have all been part of the ensemble for more than two decades. Fried’s most memorable audience story involved a father talking about the love he had for his son.

“As he was speaking,” she said, “I wanted to sing a song about his love. I knew there was a Cat Stevens song called ‘Father and Son’ but I couldn’t remember the words or the melody. The only song I could think of was ‘You are the Wind Beneath My Wings,’ and I sang a few lines.”

After the show, the father told Fried that he had made a video of his son when his son was younger and the sound track was “You are the Wind Beneath My Wings.”

“That’s the magic of Playback,” said Fried. “It’s Hashem in action.”

Abrams remembers a story about a woman who found herself attracted to two men who were both interested in her, and she was wondering what to do about her pleasant dilemma.

“In the playback, myself and another male actor represented the two suitors in an old-fashioned duel that was a slow-motion dance, also using fabrics,” said Abrams. “We ended in a draw, appealing to the teller [audience participant] to decide. The teller and the audience loved it, and the teller realized she didn’t need to rush any decision, and decided just to enjoy the experience.”

There seems to be no limit as to what can be expressed in performances with VPT and what insights can be gained.

Fried said she has particularly enjoyed playing “non-literal parts.” For example, she has played a table at which two people fell in love, she has played the feelings of love and has even played internal organs. She said she has learned to trust that her creativity will emerge when invited.

Bronstein remembers when he had to play back a story about a violent character. “Although I symbolically represented the violence, when the story was finished my body was shaking intensely,” he said.

It’s not surprising that VPT works with organizations that help others, such as the Kitsilano-Fairview Mental Health team and Oxfam Canada.

“When we do a workshop for an organization or a community group, we often start with a short performance on an issue, and follow this with breakout groups where participants can dialogue on what they’ve learned and where to go from here on the issue,” Abrams said. “The groups we work with are focused on progressive social issues, so we contribute to forward movement on these issues through our workshops.”

VPT offers a variety of services, including public and conference performances, workplace conflict resolution workshops, peace-building in schools, community engagement projects, and Playback skills training, in person (when possible) and virtually (via Zoom).

Fried said she has learned a lot about the human condition through working with culturally diverse audiences. “Although our lives, cultures, religions and life experiences are different, we all value and care about the same things,” she said. “We all have the same variety of feelings. I feel connected on an internal level with each teller.”

When they aren’t together storytelling, Fried runs her own company and is a keynote speaker, workshop leader and coach; Bronstein is the executive director of Little Mountain Neighbourhood House; and Abrams runs his own organizational development consulting business.

The other members of the ensemble are Diandra Lee, Laen Hershler, Ingrid Brousillon, Louise Lemieux, Laurie Damer and Matthew Spears.

The troupe’s website is vancouverplaybacktheatre.com. Their next online public performance will be on June 26 in honour of World Refugee Day, which is June 20.

Cassandra Freeman writes stories with the support and love of her husband, Irwin Levin.

Grateful for ability to play

Six members of the 35th Street Gang, with the author second from the left in the back row. (photo from Cassandra Freeman)

Sheena and I don’t recall why we were trying to measure the house with a ball of string. We just remember me holding one end of the string, throwing the rest down from my bedroom, and her running all around the house with the rest of it till she got back to me. We were 8 years old and we were part of what we proudly called the 35th Street Gang.

At a recent reunion, 43 years later, seven of us mischievous women decided that playing was a powerful thing. It was about athletic activity, creativity, community building, trust – and simply some of the funnest times we’ve had.

Fairly early in our lives, “we seven” decided we owned the block. That’s why we called ourselves the 35th Street Gang. For some of us, a rite of initiation to the gang was to climb with hands and bare feet up to the very top of the pole and touch the signs that read 35th and Maple, then slide right back down again.

Kick the can was one of our favourite games. It was a combination of tag and hide-and-go-seek. I remember shivering with anticipation in a neighbour’s garage, hiding from the girl who was “it.” Of course, she found me before the others, and we raced down the short hill and around the corner, each of us trying to be the one who would kick the can first. I’m betting that we ran faster than we ever did in phys ed class. (Some adults still play this game I discovered, and you can search for them on meetup.com.)

Roller skates were all the rage in the early 1970s. They attached to the bottom of your sneakers with a metal key. I can still feel the vibration from the wheels going all the way through my body from the contact with the cement below. And just skating in the middle of the road wasn’t good enough for us. One of us, Louise, created a song we all sang and did the motions to while skating. It went like this: “Butterflies fly, and so do I, and I like it, so I don’t sit, I fly … so do I.”

The most daring kind of play we did was tobogganing. Daring because we slid down a severely slanted sidewalk covered with snow and ice. The year I was 8, winter was particularly cold. That did not deter us and neither did the teenage boys who threw ice balls at us on the way down. We were determined to have a good time.

We had a regular toboggan that fit three of us, a red slippery carpet, and a small round “flying saucer” one that would go round in circles as you went down. The bump we all made in the middle of the run was the most fun. We would fly off that thing so high it took a few seconds to come back down to earth again.

One time, I was sitting in the middle of the flying saucer and flew off that bump and started spinning in circles. I still remember that moment when I realized – too late – that I was going to hit the huge chestnut tree at the bottom of the run. And so I did. Thwack! My back hit that tree so hard it took all the breath out of me. Realizing a few seconds later that I was all in one piece, I got up and marched back up the hill and slid all the way down again on someone else’s toboggan.

We did all of these things running in and out of my parents’ house. As a result, all of my friends still know about all the Jewish holidays and what a kosher kitchen is. They would even march in on Passover with non-kosher-for-Passover popsicles to torment my poor older sister who was trying to keep the holiday. Today, they remember my parents, Joyce and Bernie, as being their second parents growing up. One of us, Madeleine, even says that she became a war crimes prosecutor because she learned about the Holocaust from spending so much time in our house. (See jewishindependent.ca/working-for-human-rights.)

When John Fraser became a member of Parliament, we used his election signs to build a huge maze in the Frasers’ front yard. We crawled around until our knees hurt. We had such a great time until we learned that he and his wife would be leaving for Ottawa with their three daughters. We said our sad goodbyes and waited for the time we would see them again.

Looking back, I am thankful I was involved in an old-fashioned kind of play that created lifelong friendships. Now, at our reunions, we become kids again and laugh our heads off for hours.

Cassandra Freeman is a freelance writer and teaches improv games for parties and performance.

Working for human rights

A gift of Elie Wiesel’s Night was among the forces that influenced Madeleine Schwarz’s career path.

Madeleine Schwarz is one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. Not the kind you would expect to build much of her career prosecuting or aiding in the prosecution of war criminals around the world, including the Nazi war criminal known as the “Beast of Bolzano,” who was living on Commercial Drive in Vancouver.

Now based in Toronto, working with the Refugee Board of Canada, Schwarz spoke with the Jewish Independent about a few of her accomplishments.

Raised Catholic, Schwarz was one of seven kids on the block who frequented our house in Vancouver back in the 1960s and early ’70s. Little did we know that she would soon be making history.

She told the Independent that her passion for international criminal law began when she was a teenager and learned about the genocide of the Jewish people.

My parents, Joyce and Bernie Freeman, helped her along her journey by giving her Night by Elie Wiesel, an account of his terrifying time in Auschwitz.

“Your house was very much an introduction to Judaism,” she said. “Yours was a very open, friendly Jewish family. I recall coming to your house for Shabbat dinner in my convent school uniform.”

While studying international relations at the University of British Columbia, Schwarz had a number of Chilean friends who had family members in camps under the dictator Augusto Pinochet. That was her “introduction” to contemporary war crimes and crimes against humanity.

In 1994, Schwarz graduated with her bachelor of laws at Dalhousie University. In 2003, she obtained her master of laws at the University of Ottawa, specializing in international criminal law.

Her first job involving war crimes was at the Canadian Department of Justice. From 1999 to 2005, she worked closely with RCMP officers on investigations into crimes against humanity, war crimes and genocide in Ukraine, Belarus, Italy and Rwanda.

When Italy found Michael Siefert, a former S.S. guard at a transit camp in Bolzano, guilty in absentia of 11 murders during the Holocaust, Schwarz put together the case to revoke his Canadian citizenship. She interviewed many people in Italy, including former resistance fighters who had witnessed his crimes.

“Seifert was quite a young man during the war. He was an old man during the proceedings. But he had committed horrendous crimes,” she said.

One of the documents Schwarz saw during the investigation made the Holocaust all so terribly real.

“I remember that we had an invoice confirming the transfer of a number of people to Auschwitz. That was one of the most horrific pieces of evidence I’ve ever seen.”

In 2003, as a result of her work and that of the legal teams who came afterwards, the B.C. Supreme Court ordered Siefert’s extradition and, in 2007, the Federal Court upheld a decision to strip him of his Canadian citizenship. In 2008, Siefert, aged 83, was sent back to Italy. His residence in Vancouver as a free man for more than 50 years was over.

During her time with the Department of Justice, Schwarz interviewed many victims and witnesses of war crimes. She said that, even when, after 15 minutes, she knew that she couldn’t use their story, she would sit there and listen for the whole two hours.

“When I’ve asked someone to tell me their story,” she said, “it’s incumbent on me to listen.… I might be the only person they will be able to tell their story to [in their lifetime].”

From 2006 to 2010, Schwarz lived in Tanzania, where she was one of the trial attorneys on the largest multi-accused trial for the United Nations International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda. Part of her work there was interviewing perpetrators of the genocide in the Butare prefecture.

She confided that this part of her job was very hard on her. “I remember interviewing three suspects alleged to have committed genocide in a row. I told my colleague – I need a break before I can talk to the fourth man.”

When it came to the trial, Schwarz and her team secured convictions of all six accused, including the first woman charged with ordering rape as a war crime.

“I think, as a lawyer and particularly a prosecutor, you are assessing the evidence and being critical. You have to be pretty surgical about it,” said Schwarz.

A few years later, at a UN conference, a co-presenter from Butare approached her and told her that his entire family had been wiped out by the genocide there. “And he said thank you very much for your work. And I practically burst into tears because I felt humbled that somebody would say that … it was not something I felt I should be thanked for, nor any of us should be thanked for because it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

As a commissioner looking into the killings in Les Cayes prison in Haiti during 2010, Schwarz led an international team and supervised the final report with recommendations on future prosecutions, penal reform, justice reform and police training.

Schwarz was in Kenya in 2013, working as the human rights and justice advisor to the UN Special Envoy in the Great Lakes region of Africa, a region encompassing 13 countries, including the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Rwanda, Uganda and Burundi. With a team of experts, she collaborated with myriad different organizations to create strong networks of people who would work together to promote better communication, peace and understanding in the region.

“There are so many layers that need to be addressed if you are ever going to deal with root causes of conflict, that range from ensuring people have access to clean water, food, lodging and education, to building trust and confidence among the leaders and civil society, to advocating for accountability for past crimes…. It takes a lot of time,” she said.

From 2016 to 2019, Schwarz worked as a trial lawyer and deputy team leader at the International Criminal Court in The Hague. It was there that she prepared arrest warrants for individuals alleged to have committed crimes in Libya since 2011.

Despite seeing the very worst of humanity, Schwarz still has hope for the human race. “I’ve seen some pretty horrible things,” she acknowledged. “I’ve also seen people who do tremendous things to try and make change or try and help people.”

And she had this to say about the International Criminal Court.

“I think that investigations and prosecutions of individuals for war crimes, crimes against humanity and genocide are incredibly important,” said Schwarz. “I wouldn’t necessarily say we’re always getting the complete truth and I do not think we always get it right. However, I do think we get some truth and some accountability that is important for victims, as well as for countries moving out of conflict. I think that is important. And it’s a different way of telling the story than a novelist or historian.”

Cassandra Freeman is a freelance writer living in Vancouver. During the early 1980s, she was part of the Jewish student movement that called for the extradition of Nazi war criminals living in Canada.