Heroism and survival took on new meaning for me after reading George Halpern’s From School to Sky: Joseph’s Tale of War and Gina Roitman’s Don’t Ask. The first is a biography of a certain time in Halpern’s father’s life, the latter is a fictional work that centres around a daughter’s search for her mother’s history during that same time period, the Second World War. Both books are featured at this year’s Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival.
Halpern takes part in the Feb. 12, 10 a.m., by-donation event A Literary Quickie, in which he and seven other authors each have five minutes to pitch their books. Roitman appears with Lynda Cohen Loigman (The Matchmaker’s Gift: A Novel) in A Day to Celebrate Human Closeness, which takes place at 2 p.m., on Feb. 14 ($18).
Halpern’s pitch to me included only some of the actions that make his father, Joseph Halpern, a hero. In reading the book, which is based on months’ worth of interviews George did with his dad, who died in 2011, I discovered several more reasons. Joseph was a fighter pilot for the Russian Air Force (Joseph’s town, Vladimir Volynsky, was in the part of Poland annexed by the Soviet Union weeks after the war started). He was a Soviet prisoner for a spell, then trained as a special forces commando. He was captured by Nazis on a mission, but escaped. Following the war, he defected (to the Americans in Berlin), taking his Russian plane with him, but then returned to Russia to fulfil a promise he made to someone who had saved his life. He founded an orphanage, helped create the Israeli Air Force, etc., etc.
The most compelling part to me of Joseph Halpern’s story, however, is his honest appraisal of himself, his humility and his humanity, even though he wasn’t always humane. He admits his “fearless attitude would be combined with special training – including brainwashing – and I would truly believe that I was invincible.” He is open about wanting to have killed more Nazis than he did, and that he personally killed someone in an act of revenge. His complexities include the life he had to build after immigrating to Canada, caring for his kids through his wife’s struggle with mental illness, obtaining two doctorates, working with NASA, finding love again and more.
Similarly, though in a fictional setting, Roitman’s novel deals with multi-layered human beings, some of whom survive because they committed acts of which they are not proud – and they carry the guilt for the rest of their lives. As Joseph’s trauma travels beyond his own self and is passed on in some degree to his children, so does the character Rokhl’s carry over to her daughter Hannah.
Rokhl doesn’t talk much, and certainly not about her experiences during the Holocaust, in contrast to her husband, who has already passed away when the novel begins – what little Hannah knows of her heritage has come from her father. Hannah only receives her mother’s wisdom through notes that Rokhl leaves her, the last of which Hannah finds in her mom’s purse after Rokhl dies, apparently by suicide: “I am not her,” it says.
Don’t Ask traces Hannah’s attempt to figure out the mystery of that note and deal with the grief of her mother’s death, while also brokering a real estate deal between a German buyer and a Holocaust survivor who lives in Quebec and owns a tract of land in the Laurentians. Hannah’s parents immigrated to Montreal after the war; Hannah, their only child, was born in a DP camp in Germany, which they had called home. Since the Holocaust, “Her father could not say the word ‘German’ without spitting” and, in her last encounter with her mother, in which Hannah shared the news that she was traveling to Germany, her mother had threatened, “If you go, it will be over my dead body, do you hear me?”
In the guise of a budding romance between Hannah and Max, her counterpart in Germany, Roitman addresses many challenging questions about the intergenerational nature of culpability and forgiveness, of duty to one’s parents and the responsibility for building one’s own life, of nursing hatred or risking love. She does so in a fashion that sometimes pushes belief – for example, Hannah and Max are not young, yet they lack much understanding of what attraction is, and Hannah, despite her professed curiosity about her mother’s past doesn’t explore until the end of the book four boxes of her mother’s notes, which have sat in her closet for an undisclosed amount of time prior to her mother’s death. Yet, Roitman also writes in a way that makes you care about the characters and what happens to them. The story of Rokhl’s Holocaust experiences and that of Hannah’s budding relationship (and the weight of history that it and the real estate deal unearth) are enthralling and Don’t Ask is a hard book to put down until you finish it.
Letters that highlight friendship, writing that facilitates healing, stories that dissect societal mores – the books reviewed by the Jewish Independent this week represent only a small fraction of those featured at the Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival this year.
While the official festival runs Feb. 11-16, opening with Dr. Gabor Maté in conversation with Marsha Lederman about his latest book, The Myth of Normal: Trauma, Illness & Healing in a Toxic Culture, there are a couple of pre-festival events this month: German writer Max Czollek launches the English version of his book De-Integrate! A Jewish Survival Guide for the 21st Century on Jan. 19 and American-Israeli photographer Jason Langer presents his book Berlin: A Jewish Ode to the Metropolis on Jan. 26. As well, there is a post-festival event, on Feb. 28, which sees former federal cabinet minister and senator Jack Austin launching his memoir, Unlikely Insider: A West Coast Advocate in Ottawa.
If the books reviewed by the Independent are any indication, attendees of the festival can expect to have their views challenged and their perspectives broadened; they will be moved, disturbed and amused, sometimes all at once.
Intimate portraits
Two years ago, the JCC Jewish Book Festival featured the book Memories of Jewish Poland: The 1932 Photographs of Nachum Tim Gidal (jewishindependent.ca/gidals-photos-speak-volumes). It was the fulfilment of a dying request that Israeli photographer Tim Gidal made in 1996 to Vancouver scholar, writer and philanthropist Yosef Wosk. The book was released at the same time that an exhibit of its photos was mounted at the Zack Gallery (jewishindependent.ca/jewish-poland-in-1932).
The friendship between Wosk and Gidal was evident in that book and in the exhibit. How the two men – separated in age by some 40 years and in geography by almost 11,000 kilometres – became such good friends is the subject of Gidal: The Unusual Friendship of Yosef Wosk and Tim Gidal, written by Wosk (and, technically, Gidal) and edited by another of Wosk’s good friends, Alan Twigg.
Alan Twigg (PR photo)
The bulk of Gidal is letters that Gidal and Wosk wrote to each other from 1993, soon after they met, through to Gidal’s death in 1996. The postscript is a letter from Wosk to Gidal’s wife, Pia, mourning Gidal’s death and hoping that “his work and vision continue to inspire others.” Twigg has masterfully edited the multi-year correspondence, which comprised hundreds of letters, into an engaging narrative that offers insight into the core of these undeniably brilliant men, their work, ideas, loves, frustrations, sadnesses and more. Their vulnerability makes this a brave publication for Wosk to have created, and a meaningful one.
The other main component of Gidal is, of course, Gidal’s photographs, which, Wosk writes in the afterword, “serve as background to the letters.” As he did with Memories of Jewish Poland, Wosk mostly lets the photographs speak for themselves. Each photo section has a theme but each image within the section is simply captioned, placed and dated, without commentary.
There is a short chapter on Gidal and one on his and Wosk’s friendship and how this book came about. Gidal is creatively and esthetically put together. Each letter is headed by a key quote from the missive and the date it was sent. Images are included of some of the actual letters, most of which were sent by fax. It is interesting to contemplate whether this fount of communication would exist if it had been made via email.
Wosk and Twigg will talk about Gidal on Feb. 14, 7 p.m., at the book festival. The event is free of charge.
Therapeutic memoirs
Paired together for a presentation are Margot Fedoruk and Tamar Glouberman. The program categorizes them as “modern-day women” who will be presenting their “offbeat memoirs,” summarized by the question, “How B.C. is that?” Indeed, both Fedoruk and Glouberman tell coming-of-age stories of a sort, Fedoruk’s beginning in her 20s and Glouberman’s in her 30s. And they both lead outdoorsy, independent lives that could be described as the B.C. ideal, yet both have also faced many challenges and darker sides of that ideal.
Fedoruk is the author of Cooking Tips for Desperate Fishwives, in which she openly shares her anxieties of being married to a West Coast sea urchin diver – she is lonely without him, must raise their two daughters mostly without him and is worried that an accident may result in her having to live without him. Yet, she loves Rick, even though she does try (unsuccessfully) to convince him to take up another profession and stay closer to home. The pair moves around a lot, and Fedoruk herself takes up many different jobs over the years to make ends meet. But they stick together, getting married after their daughters are all grown up and have left home.
As dysfunctional as their relationship appears at times, Fedoruk had a more challenging life before she met Rick. Her father is a horrible man, her mother dies of cancer and she and her sister lose the family home to her mother’s second husband, also a horrible man. And there’s more. It is no wonder she leaves Winnipeg, eventually settling in British Columbia, though settling may be too strong a word, as she and her family do live in several different places on the coast, with some time in Calgary.
What makes Fedoruk’s memoir unique is the inclusion of a recipe in almost every chapter that reflects the mood or subject matter of the chapter, like the Killer Lasagne in the introduction, which begins, “The night I ran over Rick with my car, I was over four months pregnant with our first daughter.” Other recipes include Easy Curried Chickpeas With Rice, which appears as an affordable comfort food in a chapter about her being exhausted, on her own, caring for her two then-young daughters; and Wild-crafted Stinging Nettle Pesto, which comes after one of her descriptions of the soaps she makes – her business is Starfish Soap Company.
Near the end of her memoir, Fedoruk mentions that she has started therapy. I would have liked her to have written this book further into that process. As honest as she is about her feelings and circumstances, the memoir would have been more layered and impactful had she been further along in understanding how her traumatic childhood experiences, her genes and other factors affect how she moves through the world.
Glouberman has a less tragic background but a similarly transient life – and also loves something that gives her both great joy and great anxiety, the latter of which eventually takes over. In Chasing Rivers: A Whitewater Life, she shares her emotional journey of trying to make a life as a whitewater rafting guide.
One of the few women to guide tours, Glouberman does face sexism, her skills often underestimated by clients, but her male bosses and colleagues all seem to appreciate her abilities – certainly more than she does. She is constantly worried about making a mistake that will kill her or someone else and, while this is rational, given her job and its risks, the feeling becomes overwhelming. With an accident on the road – there is a lot of travel required to get to places like Chilko River, Williams Lake and further afield, outside the province – and her worst nightmare coming true on a rafting trip, Glouberman’s fears have very real incidents on which to grow.
Glouberman tries other types of work, but is always drawn back to the water. She struggles with depression and has a few other harsh experiences that add to her self-doubt. She tries various forms of therapy, some of which make her feel worse. Her family is supportive, though, and her sister’s home in Whistler is a refuge. She is only beginning her journey to healing when the memoir ends, and part of that has to do with getting into a master’s writing program. Both she and Fedoruk, who also went back to university for a writing degree, thank several people for their memoirs coming to fruition.
Glouberman and Fedoruk present at the book festival Feb. 12, 2 p.m. (tickets are $18). They also speak at Congregation Har El that day, at 11 a.m.
The price of victory
The harm inflicted on a society by war culture is front and centre in Israeli writer Yishai Sarid’s book Victorious. The main character, Abigail, is a military psychologist who, basically, tries to make soldiers into better killers, both “helping” them through trauma after they’ve experienced it and teaching them ways to be immune to trauma so that they can “beat the enemy.” Her father, who strongly disapproves of her work with the army, is a renowned clinical psychologist. On more than one occasion, he tries to talk her out of working for the military, but does not succeed. That the character of the father is dying of cancer is not coincidental.
Abigail blurs professional lines everywhere, working for the married man who fathered her son, the man who is now the army’s chief of staff; sleeping with a patient/friend; trying to become close friends with a former patient; and having a sexual relationship with one of the young soldiers whose unit she’s evaluating. The lessons she teaches are chilling, as is her abandonment of a patient who becomes too difficult for her to handle and some of her other actions.
She believes her job is her patriotic duty, even as her own son, Shauli, enters military service, in the paratroopers no less, and her fears for him fight with her pride in his choice. Though, with both his father and mother being staunch militarists, it could be argued that Shauli doesn’t really have a choice.
Victorious is a sparingly written novel that readers will not only ponder but feel well after they put it down. Translator Yardenne Greenspan must be given credit for making Sarid’s words as impactful in English as they are in Hebrew.
Sarid’s book festival event is Feb. 12, at 8 p.m. Tickets are $18.
For the full author lineup and to purchase festival tickets or passes, visit jccgv.com/jewish-book-festival or call 604-257-5111.
Soldiers of Tomorrow, about Itai Erdal’s experiences in the Israeli army, is at the Roundhouse Feb. 3-5. (photo from the Elbow Theatre)
“I know that this play will piss off a lot of people on both sides of the conflict, but I welcome the controversy. I am taking some strong stances and talking about some explosive subject matters (pun intended) so, if it wasn’t going to piss people off, then I probably didn’t do my job properly,” Itai Erdal told the Independent. “I think it’s good to challenge people and I welcome the discussion that this play will generate.”
Erdal was talking about Soldiers of Tomorrow, which he wrote with Colleen Murphy. The play is part of this year’s PuSh International Performing Arts Festival, and sees its world première Feb. 3-5 at Roundhouse Performance Centre.
Presented by the Elbow Theatre and PuSh, Soldiers of Tomorrow is directed by Anita Rochon and performed by Erdal with Syrian musician Emad Armoush.
“When I was a kid growing up in Israel, peace seemed inevitable – it was just a matter of time, there were countless songs about the day peace will arrive. The adults would always say, ‘By the time you grow up, we won’t need an army anymore.’ No one says that today,” writes Erdal on his website. “Most Israelis accept that their children will be soldiers. One day, when my nephew was 8, he came home from school with an empty box to fill with stuff to send to soldiers on the front line. Inside the box his teacher had written: ‘To the soldiers of today from the soldiers of tomorrow.’”
This experience inspired the play. While fictional, it is about real events that happened to Erdal during his time in the Israel Defence Forces in the early 1990s.
“I served in the army for three years and as a combatant soldier,” said Erdal. “I would have had to be in the reserves until the age of 45, which I didn’t want to do. I was in Jerusalem during all the suicide bombings in the ’90s and my reluctance to continue to be a soldier and my exhaustion of the political situation definitely contributed to my decision to immigrate to Vancouver.”
Erdal has made his mark here in many ways, including as an award-winning playwright, performer and lighting designer. He created the Elbow Theatre in 2012 “to confront urgent social and political issues.” Soldiers of Tomorrow is its sixth production. The PR blurb notes that, in it, Erdal “relates his actions in the army, exploring his personal culpability in the face of complex geopolitical forces in his former country – a place that he loves ‘with a broken heart.’”
“I pitched the idea for this play to Colleen Murphy in 2018 when we were working together in Stratford,” Erdal told the Independent. “We met a few times that year, but it really took off when the pandemic started. For almost two years, Colleen and I would meet on Zoom every Monday and Thursday for two hours. It was really great to have a project during the lockdown, it kept me sane.”
Although it is a one-man play, Armoush will also be on stage with Erdal, performing the music live. As to how he connected with Armoush, Erdal said, “I was looking for a Palestinian musician but there aren’t many of them in Vancouver and Emad was highly recommended by my Israeli musician friends.”
About the timing, Erdal explained, “During my lifetime, the situation for Palestinians has only gotten worse, it never gets better. Israel recently formed the most extreme right-wing government in its history, with several openly racist and homophobic ministers. Many Israelis and Palestinians are bracing themselves for the worst. Unfortunately, this play is more relevant than ever.”
He is not concerned about how Jews in general or Israelis specifically will be perceived by non-Jewish people who see the play.
“I am a very proud Jew and, even though I criticize the state of Israel, I do so because I love it, and I think that love is clear in the play,” said Erdal, who shared the following quote from the play: “I am aware that this is a topic that intimidates many Canadians. I’ve seen the glazed look in your eyes. I’ve had many people ask me to explain the conflict to them and, after one minute, they are searching for the exit. I’ve also seen many people twist themselves into pretzels in order not to take sides because they were concerned about appearing antisemitic. I hope by the time you leave here, you’ll be able to criticize Israel without worrying about appearing antisemitic.”
Soldiers of Tomorrow is at the Roundhouse Feb. 3-4, 7:30 p.m., and Feb. 5, 2 p.m., with a post-show talkback after the Feb. 4 performance. The show is 75 minutes long, with no intermission. Tickets ($34) can be purchased at pushfestival.ca.
The PuSh International Performing Arts Festival runs Jan. 19-Feb. 5. It features 20 original works – theatre, dance, music, multimedia and circus – from 12 countries and includes six world premières, one North American debut, six Canadian and two Western Canadian openings and one Vancouver première. Single tickets start at $34 in-person, $25 online, plus there are pay-what-you-can and free events; passes, which offer a discount and other perks, are available for both in-person and digital shows. Visit pushfestival.ca or call 604-449-6000.
Daniel Shalinsky being interviewed and filmed as part of White Rock South Surrey Jewish Community Centre’s oral history project, which will form part of the community’s Feb. 5 Tu b’Shevat Gala, along with singer Tania Grinberg, speaker Karen James and more. (photo by Helen Thomas Mann)
The White Rock South Surrey Jewish Community Centre Tu b’Shevat Gala will take place on the evening of Sunday, Feb. 5, the start of the holiday. With the theme “Strengthen Our Roots,” a main component of the event will be community members’ oral histories.
“The idea for the project came about in a very multidirectional way,” Helen Thomas Mann, WRSSJCC president, told the Independent. “First, we wanted to host an annual fundraising event and, with our membership drive being around the High Holidays, Tu b’Shevat seemed like a good time for it.”
Tu b’Shevat, the 15th of the Hebrew month of Shevat, is the New Year of Trees.
“Naturally,” said Thomas Mann, “the theme for a Tu b’Shevat event would be trees, so we began focusing on our ‘tree of life’ as a community. But we were coming back together after a three-year lull from the pandemic – we needed people to remember why this place is important, and why it should continue to exist. The ideabecame, let’s honour our roots, our history as a community of nearly 30 years; remember the branches that connect us to our Jewishness and the WRSSJCC, and celebrate our leaves, the future of our community.
“As a new president and newer member of the community,” she said, “I felt sensitive to the fact that, although I was playing a leadership role in the organization, there were many people who had worked hard before me to create this warm Jewish space. Our new board didn’t have to reinvent the wheel. I made it my mission to learn those stories.”
A therapist by profession, Thomas Mann is naturally interested in people’s stories, she said. “I had a conversation with Alysa [Routtenberg] from the Jewish Museum and Archives of British Columbia, and that’s where collecting life stories of people in our community came about. She provided me with a recording device. Then it occurred to me that these life stories and the stories of the JCC itself could be incorporated into our celebration.
“I was scrolling the WRSSJCC Instagram account, and I saw a person we follow, and who follows our organization back, who had beautiful fine art photos. Their website said they were passionate about storytelling. I took a chance and reached out, and the person happened to be Yaacov Green, who participated in the JCC as a child and whose father was a president of the JCC for many years! Yaacov generously offered to donate his time to record and edit these interviews to make a short presentation for the Tu b’Shevat event, and a longer version to be submitted to the Jewish Museum and Archives of B.C.”
During the project, Thomas Mann said, “Marcy Babins from the museum mentioned this may be the first representation of Jews from our outlying community in the archive, so I’m thrilled we will be represented. There’s such a rich history here of creative, scrappy and very grassroots Jewish community-building efforts. It’s been very inspiring to learn about. We have interviewed 23 people so far, plus we are having two make-up days…. We are also completing a few Zoom interviews for those who are no longer local.”
Everyone in the community was invited to participate, whether new to the community or having been a part of it for a long time. One of the participants was Daniel Shalinsky, who was interviewed for the project by his grandmother, Helen Lynn Lutterman.
“He attended Hebrew school at the JCC and spent lots of time there as a child,” said Thomas Mann. “There are pictures of him as a child with a hammer, literally building our WRSSJCC alongside his family. His parents are Hertha and Steve Shalinsky, who we are honouring at the Tu b’Shevat event. Their family, including Steve’s brother and his wife, Ken and Andrea Shalinsky, were integral in acquiring our physical space. Steve was a president for many years. For more on the fascinating story of how the space was acquired, you will have to attend the event to find out!”
In addition to the community histories, award-winning Yiddish singer Tania Grinberg will be featured at the celebration. And the night’s keynote speaker will be Karen James, who will share the story of her experience at the 1972 Olympics in Munich. James was there with the Canadian Olympic swim team, and witnessed a group of people climbing over the wall of the Olympic village. Only later would she find out that those people held hostage and then murdered 11 Israeli athletes. “She will share how witnessing this event impacted her life, her connection to her Jewish identity, and her relationship with the WRSSJCC,” said Thomas Mann of James’ presentation.
The Tu b’Shevat fundraiser is for specific programming, as well as operating expenses of the WRSSJCC.
“We are fundraising to generally pay our bills, and our hope is to be able to hire a part-time employee to support our admin needs and flourishing programming,” Thomas Mann explained. “We also have a list of ‘wishing tree’ items that range in dollar amounts from new oven mitts to computer monitors, and open amounts for specific purposes such as donating towards a child in need’s Hebrew school tuition. Long term, we would love to be able to find a new building space where we could have a stand-alone building, as opposed to being in a strip mall, with an outdoor area for a sukkah and community garden. That would be our pie-in-the-sky donation! We are a 100% volunteer-run organization, so every contribution counts.”
The entire community is welcome to the Feb. 5 event, which will be held at the White Rock South Surrey Jewish Community Centre, 32-3033 King George Blvd., in Surrey. “We considered the ease of hosting in a different location for space restrictions, but it seemed too important to centre the space,” said Thomas Mann. “Plus, our tree of life is on the wall, and we will be unveiling the newadditions at the event.”
Earlier this year, Claire B. Cohen published a book of her 30-plus years as an artist. She made it for family and friends, as a record of her artistic legacy.
“Art is a powerful and a creative force of self-expression. To create art is to develop an ability to communicate visually what cannot be expressed in words.
“By creating the process of art, we change the way we see the world,” Claire B. Cohen told the Independent. “In understanding ourselves, we find areas where we feel limited. In understanding ourselves, we stand up for ourselves and can present ourselves authentically to others. An artist’s creation is unique and original to their work.”
Earlier this year, Cohen published a slim volume, mainly with images that burst from the pages, outlining her 30-plus years creating art. We glimpse the range of her work – landscapes, portraits, semi-abstracts, flowers, multimedia collages and a compartmental series, in which colourful abstract canvases were “connected sequentially in a zigzag for using piano hinges.” Flow and fun describe this series, her portraits – both colour and black and white – capture the personalities of her subjects, her landscapes and collages are bold and full of movement but also balance. The book touches on her work as an art therapist.
Originally from Israel, Cohen came to Canada in 1964. She studied fine arts at York University in Toronto and the University of Ottawa, and later earned her master’s in art therapy and counseling from U of O in 1987. She had many solo exhibits and group shows in Ottawa, and elsewhere, over the years. The book takes readers to 2006, with an exhibit list to 2009. She moved to Vancouver in 2012.
“I continued to paint after moving to Ottawa, but my move to Vancouver changed my focus, since joining my family had taken much of my time, being richly involved with newborn grandchildren,” said Cohen. “However, I still continued painting and showing new work in Vancouver galleries, as well as donating paintings to different organizations in Vancouver, such as hospitals, Louis Brier [Home and Hospital], friends, and creating more collages and multimedia-based work. I participated in group art shows and sold some to the public.”
Cohen said her reason for producing the book “was to create a place to keep all of my art as a legacy to leave to my family inremembrance of my story. COVID times were affecting my spirit, my mood was down and … the idea came about to focus on creating the book for my family and friends.”
During the pandemic, Cohen said she started to lose her connection to creativity.
“Friends cut off from each other, as much as children and family,” she said. “I slowly lost my energy and interest, as well as the need I once had to be close to my easel. The paints, the brushes, the colours all lost their meaning and the need I had to paint slowly deteriorated.”
She began to look back at her past, which, she said, “led me to wake up from my dormancy and questions such as ‘what is my meaning of life?’ I discovered my paintings in storage and wanted to create a book.
“I reflected further on my body of work and questioned: why did I dedicate my years to painting? Was there any purpose to it? The answer eventually arrived – yes. There are many purposes to be alive, and work as an artist, investing my life in art. In my case, most of it was to leave a memory to my next generation.”
Cohen’s most recent exhibit and sale was at Britannia Community Centre in 2021. Art can be cathartic, whether one is making it or experiencing it.
“The process of creating art has a great intensity and full force of emotions that lead to a freedom and release when the piece is complete,” she explained. “Looking at these pieces that I created many years ago leads to a sense of nostalgia and a softening of that intensity. These pieces have followed me through many moves and lives, and have a story of their own that has evolved with the emotions that once created them. The language of art cannot be explained in words, the language of these emotions is form, line, colour and brush strokes.”
This language can help heal, as Cohen well knows from her art therapy practice.
“The more we know about ourselves, the more we learn to grow and develop our abilities to stand our ground,” she said.
Describing art as “a powerful and unique way to explore our creative forces,” she explained that people who participate in art therapy use the “materials to express the self and communicate visually,” composing stories. In a group setting, they “collaborate and share with others … connect and integrate parts of his/her inner self, gain confidence and reduce stress in a supportive environment, with the aid of the instructor.”
It was both a dream and a need for Cohen to do art therapy and counseling.
“I realized that art is not just for selling and decorating homes, rather it was a way to find myself, to grow and see who I am, and to help others with their healing.”
On Dec. 12, Richmond Jewish Day School hosted Cornerstone Christian Academy, Richmond Christian School and Az-Zahraa Islamic Academy. (photo from RJDS)
For the second year in a row, Richmond Jewish Day School hosted a holiday celebration at the school to promote community care, empathy and understanding.
On the morning of Dec. 12, the Shine a Light project saw three schools joining RJDS to share their winter traditions. The posting on RJDS’s Facebook page reads: “Cornerstone Christian Academy made 3-D stars to signify the star of Bethlehem, Az-Zahraa Islamic Academy made lanterns to represent light in Islam, Richmond Christian School made a stained-glass craft and talked about the advent season and, finally, our school taught the others how to play the dreidel game! We all have a role to play. Today, we dispel the darkness on antisemitism and hatred.”
“Last year, we did an evening event during Hanukkah called A Celebration of Light and invited members of the Highway to Heaven community,” RJDS principal Sabrina Bhojani told the JI.
The No. 5 Road area in Richmond, which is home to RJDS, is also home to some 20 different religious and/or cultural institutions, hence the moniker “Highway to Heaven.” Richmond Mayor Malcom Brodie and Ezra Shanken, chief executive officer of Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver, were among the attendees last year – and this year – along with several city councilors and others.
“This year, we changed the name and format to create a more kid-friendly celebration, and invited various schools to attend,” said Bhojani. “Activities of the students included those that showcased their personal winter-themed traditions and included singing and arts and crafts.”
This year’s Hanukkah celebration featured several activities for the kids. (photo from RJDS)
The Shine a Light program was made possible by a grant from the Jewish Federations of North America, said Bhojani.
In addition to her land acknowledgement on Dec. 12, Bhojani said, “We also acknowledge the Elders, the keepers of traditional knowledge, wisdom and Indigenous ways of knowing. We have much to learn about resilience and responsibility. We commit to asking questions, being open to learning from others and acknowledging that that which we do not know.
“We also commit to make the community we share with you a more peaceful, loving and safe place through the First Peoples’ principles of learning.”
(photo from RJDS)
With regard to the day’s program, she said, it was “designed to help each of us develop our understanding and respect for one another’s faith and culture while growing in appreciation, understanding and commitment to our own faith traditions and their meanings. We hope that, through education and events like this one, we will collaboratively encourage people to work together, sharing the responsibility for addressing stereotyping, prejudice, racism, discrimination, antisemitism and social exclusion.”
She noted, “Today, as we gather together, we celebrate the unity and the unique religious coexistence of where we live. I hope you are reminded that is up to each and every one of us to be a ‘Shine a Light’ in the darkness of racism and discrimination.”
One parent who saw the event photos on Facebook wrote Bhojani an email. Having experienced antisemitism, they wrote: “What RJDS is teaching, its values, and [the] education the children are receiving, it’s world changing. It’s hope. It’s proof of a better future.”
Lori Goldberg’s artwork reminds viewers that “that which we discard doesn’t disappear.” (photo from Lori Goldberg)
If you attend a performance at Queen Elizabeth Theatre, you will see the artwork of Lori Goldberg. She is one of the artists whose creations are at the theatre for another couple of weeks. The exhibit opened Oct. 29.
“Queen Elizabeth Theatre has a program for exhibiting artwork by local artists,” Goldberg told the Independent. “There was a call that was sent out a few years ago and I responded. I was accepted and the work was to be installed just when the pandemic began, so it was postponed until this year.
“It is an ideal venue,” she continued, “as thousands of people a week attend events at the Queen E. My art has a message about climate change and it is important that it gets seen by as many people as possible. My pieces are on exhibit until Dec. 19, and people are only able to see it if they have a ticket to an event. Alternatively, I am available to take anyone interested on a private tour.”
The paintings in the exhibit come from three ongoing series: Plasticity, Poetics of the Discarded, and Reconstructing Nature.
“For many years, I have been investigating what happens when two opposing places – cities and nature – collide, connect and transform,” said Goldberg. “Through more awareness and experience firsthand, many of my works have ultimately been about the precarious relationship that we have with our natural world. Seeded in environmental advocacy, an animating factor in my practice has been reclaiming, recycling and reimagining refuse.”
“Rogue Fish” by Lori Goldberg (photo from Lori Goldberg)
In the description of Plasticity on her website, Goldberg mentions her discovery that ink can be transferred from, say, a plastic bag, to canvas. Her creative process invites such discoveries.
“I am a diverse artist and my ideas dictate my art,” she explained. “My practice has primarily focused on painting, but I have had to explore other mediums to adequately express my concept. Besides paint, I have explored photography, assemblage and sewing. I have worked with clay, glass, so-called ‘trash’ from my studio, single-use plastic bags that I fuse on canvas, and I have stuffed lost socks with fabric remnants given to me by tailors.”
For Goldberg, the camera is her “sketchbook” and a photo is generally the starting point for her painting.
“My work references the physical world at one point in my creative process,” she said. “When I research and gather information, I look for source material that is usually filtered through my own photo documentation. Other photo images can come from friends, the internet or by random discovery. I also use memory, dreams – and always my imagination. I take parts of photos that resonate for me and incorporate that visual language – usually recontextualizing and altering it – in my work.”
As an example, Goldberg spoke about the series Reconstructing Nature, which references nature/urban tensions found in Vancouver. “There is no lack of trees here and our city is in constant state of flux, with the demolishing of buildings and the construction of new ones, so I take photos of the nature that is all around me, but also of the scaffolding and cranes that are so prominent in the city as well,” she said. “In the Poetics of the Discarded series, I started by visiting a number of refuse sites, with an interest in memory and objects. Within the refuse, there were mounds and mounds of history: the detritus of days spent, life and death, business, conveniences used, sentimental things and so much more. I would photo-document these toppling heaps of refuse and re-contextualize and resurrect them as a visual reminder of the ongoing narrative between humans and their environment, reminding us quietly: that which we discard doesn’t disappear.”
“Reconstructing Nature” by Lori Goldberg (photo from Lori Goldberg)
While Goldberg does not paint on location often, she said, “My creative process is to go out into nature or the city, experience it, document it and return to my studio. Having said that, making work outdoors is becoming more interesting to me and it is a future direction that I plan to spend more time doing.”
With her art, Goldberg said, “I would like to think that I am creating work that is impactful to the viewer and especially the younger generation, that they will be empowered to take action towards making a difference as they engage with the world.
“The works are meant to be educational and I hope that they impart to the viewer a sense of personal responsibility – that they put to action what they feel and be one small ripple of change to create a better future for themselves.”
An educator for more than 30 years, Goldberg has taken her classroom outside and into the public arena, where, she said, “I create hands-on workshops using materials that address repairing the planet and healing ourselves. I created a project titled Lost Socks, where the public stuffed and sewed lost socks together to create a long tubular form that stood for connection, diversity and difference. Recently, I have used single-use plastic packaging to create wearable art. What I enjoy about these workshops is that they attract all ages and so it is intergenerational and accessible to all.
“Artists are essential in our communities,” she stressed. “Some of us choose to create work that challenges topics that are highly charged and sensitive, but, without venues in which to work and to exhibit, the messages cannot be passed on. I appreciate the exhibits I have had over my life at the JCC – I cannot imagine what would happen if we lost such a significant public space as the Sidney and Gertrude Zack Gallery. It is a venue for Jewish artists and Jewish content. It reinforces Jewish identity, conversations and connections. It is a gallery that has assisted me in my journey as an exhibiting artist and has given me opportunities to work with preschoolers, seniors and poets.”
Goldberg believes in giving back and donates her work frequently to different organizations, such as Big Brothers. “My recent donation was to Tikva Housing,” she said. “I gave them three paintings from my Judaica series. There is a satisfaction that is hard to explain, but it is a joy to be able to offer something of value to make others feel uplifted.”
Goldberg is currently applying for artist residencies in different parts of the world.
“I am interested in responding to the environment that I would be in and allowing it to dictate the direction of my work,” she said. “I want to contextualize my work in such a way that I am creating awareness about our healing of our planet but indirectly, through healing ourselves. Artist residencies offer opportunities for new perspectives and fewer distractions, so you can shed the restraints and discover what is there, but has been hidden.”
Gloria Levi’s recently published creative memoir The Hotelkeeper’s Daughter is a tribute to her family. And not just the family from whom she comes – the people who inhabit the main part of this story – but also the family she has made herself, the family members in the book with whom she shares her memories and those outside of it, who will read the story.
The memoir is “creative” because memory, almost by definition, is unreliable, and, with this book, the 90-plus-year-old Levi is going back to her childhood. The character Gilda, her avatar of sorts, is trying to make sense of her past:
“They are all gone … Jerry, Macey, Sadie … and Ida and Leo … Bubbie … I, Gilda, at the age of 90, am the only one left of my family of origin. I am the Omega generation, the last letter of the Greek alphabet. I remember so vividly the sweetness of family togetherness, extended family visits, our tight-knit community. How I loved them and felt loved by them: their vitality, their enduring values, their struggles, losses and successes, their remarkable resilience. They are a deep part of me. They are the heroes of a bygone era.”
Speaking to her son and great-grandson, Gilda takes us to Powell Street, in Brooklyn, N.Y., 1938. She is 7 years old. She vividly describes her community, the neighbourhood of Brownsville. Her parents, grandmother and three siblings live downstairs in a duplex shared with her uncle and aunt and their family, who live upstairs. Money is sparse.
“During their usual pinochle card game one Saturday evening in March,” writes Levi, “my father turned to his cousin, Big Eliezer, and said, ‘Eli, I really need to make a change. I don’t want to go on like this. I know I can do better than my chicken store. What do you think, if you, Sammy and I were to rent a summer hotel? My brother Benny runs a hotel with partners. He’s doing just fine. You know, with your catering experience, Eli, and the younger energy and determination of Sammy and me, I think we could make a go of it. What do you think?’ Sammy nodded in agreement. Uncle Shimon closed his hand of cards and stared.”
And the rest, as they say, is history – and the meat of this memoir. Life isn’t easy as the daughter of hotelkeepers. Gilda had been happy on Powell Street, had many friends and her favourite activities. She was very close to her grandmother, who didn’t initially go with the family, and her parents were absorbed in the business. Gilda was lonely and often felt invisible. She has a challenging relationship with her mother, Ida.
Through Gilda’s story, we see how families like hers – an Eastern European Jewish family who immigrated to the United States – struggled and succeeded in their new homeland, through the Great Depression and the Second World War. We also see how Gilda grows into herself and begins to find her own way. The memoir ends in 1948, as Gilda starts university.
As 90-year-old Gilda looks back at this foundational decade of her life, relating her story to her son Daniel and great-grandson Lenny, she ultimately reflects not only on what has passed, but what is yet to come.
“To the Lennys of today and the Idas of yesterday, I want to affirm their vision, their energy, and their inspiring dedication to build a fairer, more just and loving society.”
I had the privilege of seeing Mark Leiren-Young’s play Bar Mitzvah Boy when it premièred at Pacific Theatre in 2018. It was funny, edgy and insightful, and well-acted by Gina Chiarelli and Richard Newman. It contained a lot of local references, making it even more special.
What I see from the Playwrights Canada Press edition, which was published in 2020 and arrived at the JI sometime in 2021, is that Leiren-Young’s notes on various aspects of the play allow productions to change certain references and pronunciations to localize the action, thereby making it special no matter where it is performed. For instance, the audience first meets Rabbi Michael Levitz-Sharon, who is in her mid-30s to maybe 45 years old, on a jogging path, “dressed in sweats and a ball cap for a local sports team.”
The next scene: in the rabbi’s office, there sits a man in his mid-60s or older, Joey Brant, “decked out in prayer regalia – including tefillin, which are on incorrectly.” This is our first hint that he, despite initial appearances, is not a rabbi or a religious Jew. When Michael arrives, Joey assumes that the relatively young woman in running gear doesn’t belong at the synagogue – and certainly isn’t the congregation’s spiritual leader. This exchange sets the tone for the essentially two-person play that unfolds. The other cast member is Sheryl, the receptionist, who is never seen, only heard. As described by Leiren-Young, the actor of this role (which was Jalen Saip in 2018 at Pacific Theatre) should have “the accent you want the woman who runs your local deli to at least pretend to have.”
I love having these types of stage direction “made public.” It is a completely different experience to read a play than to attend it in person. It’s almost like listening to the acoustic version of one of your favourite pop musicians – if they are able to sing on key and play their chosen instrument skilfully, they really are excellent at their craft. Similarly, if the words of a play still make you laugh and cringe and move you emotionally in other ways, with no cues from actors or audience members, it is a very well-written play. Bar Mitzvah Boy in book form made me do all those things – I chuckled a lot throughout, and also got teary near the end. Michael and Joey (the bar mitzvah “boy,” btw) are both dealing with some serious, raw issues.
Since I finished the book, I’ve been revisiting some of the many topics it covers. I’ve thought about my own beliefs about Judaism and faith, what happens after we die, what makes a good friend, parent or spouse, how people navigate challenges differently, the ways in which a congregation (or any other group) can be both supportive and trying at the same time.
Leiren-Young dedicates the publication to his mother, Carol Leiren: “I guess it was worth sending me to Talmud Torah.” For viewers or readers of Bar Mitzvah Boy, it certainly was worth it – thank you.
A basketball game may not be able to bring about world peace, but at least one game has acted as a bridge to increasing mutual understanding and empathy.
The graphic novel The Basketball Game (Firefly Books, 2022) is based on the National Film Board of Canada animated short of the same name. Written by Hart Snider and illustrated by Sean Covernton, it is based on Snider’s memories of his first year at Jewish summer camp. It proved to be a unique experience.
It was July 1983. The camp was Camp BB Riback in Pine Lake, Alta. Snider was 9 years old and “totally homesick,” finding refuge in the comic books he had brought with him. That is, until he meets Galit. (The book is dedicated to his “partner, collaborator, inspiration and best friend, Galit,” his daughter and his parents.)
For young Hart, Camp BB made him feel at home. “Even both my parents went to this camp,” he writes. “It was a tradition in the community. It was a place to just be ourselves … and that was important because back then, growing up Jewish in Alberta wasn’t always so easy.”
Back then, in Eckville, Alta., the winter before Snider’s first summer at camp, teacher Jim Keegstra, “also the town’s mayor, was fired by the local school board.
“Believing the curriculum was ‘incomplete,’ Keegstra had been teaching Holocaust denial and antisemitic conspiracy theories in his classroom – that Jewish people had an international plot to control the world and were to blame for everything that’s wrong.”
But one Eckville parent, Susan Maddox, “noticed her 14-year-old son had some strange new opinions.” She looked through his notebooks, then filed a complaint with the school board.
Meanwhile, more than a thousand people attended a rally at the Edmonton Jewish Community Centre to figure out how to respond to the situation. One of the ideas proposed – by then Camp BB director Bill Meloff, z’’l – was to invite some of Keegstra’s former students to the camp for a “day of fun and fellowship,” which included the title’s basketball game.
(Text by Hart Snider / illustrations by Sean Covernton)
In a brilliantly drawn sequence, the team players are depicted as their negative stereotypes, how they see one another. Blue Team – a horned demon, a world-controlling banker and an evil wizard – versus Red Team – a skinhead, a Nazi and a member of the KKK. The game is intense. Then, an opposing player compliments Hart’s shot. “Thanks, man,” says Hart. The game continues, kids versus kids, no more monsters.
“Looking back, it’s amazing that it happened at all,” writes Snider. “That Keegstra’s students were invited to the camp, and they actually came.”
(Text by Hart Snider / illustrations by Sean Covernton)
That’s the thing. Someone had to extend the invitation, and someone had to accept. An illustrated reproduction of an actual newspaper clipping from 1983 notes that attendance at the camp was voluntary and that a preliminary survey indicated that about 10% of Eckville Junior-Senior High School’s 186 students “would be willing to attend.”
Here we are, almost 40 years later and, as Snider notes in his introduction: “Racism, conspiracy theories and antisemitism are spread every day on social media and other platforms. The hate that Keegstra taught in his classroom is now found in memes, videos and forums. Over and over again, we are challenged with the question, how do we deal with fear and prejudice?
“I hope we can continue to find common ground and have empathy for each other, but, most importantly, I hope that parents and kids keep talking to each other.”
The book, intended for readers 12 years old and up, includes more on the Keegstra trial, discussion questions and a glossary.
Halpern’s pitch to me included only some of the actions that make his father, Joseph Halpern, a hero. In reading the book, which is based on months’ worth of interviews George did with his dad, who died in 2011, I discovered several more reasons. Joseph was a fighter pilot for the Russian Air Force (Joseph’s town, Vladimir Volynsky, was in the part of Poland annexed by the Soviet Union weeks after the war started). He was a Soviet prisoner for a spell, then trained as a special forces commando. He was captured by Nazis on a mission, but escaped. Following the war, he defected (to the Americans in Berlin), taking his Russian plane with him, but then returned to Russia to fulfil a promise he made to someone who had saved his life. He founded an orphanage, helped create the Israeli Air Force, etc., etc.
Don’t Ask traces Hannah’s attempt to figure out the mystery of that note and deal with the grief of her mother’s death, while also brokering a real estate deal between a German buyer and a Holocaust survivor who lives in Quebec and owns a tract of land in the Laurentians. Hannah’s parents immigrated to Montreal after the war; Hannah, their only child, was born in a DP camp in Germany, which they had called home. Since the Holocaust, “Her father could not say the word ‘German’ without spitting” and, in her last encounter with her mother, in which Hannah shared the news that she was traveling to Germany, her mother had threatened, “If you go, it will be over my dead body, do you hear me?”
