Cynthia Ramsay – Page 72

Psychological thriller to play

Hannah Moscovitch (photo from Hannah Moscovitch)

Not one normally drawn to psychological thrillers, Little One intrigues me, in large part because its playwright, Hannah Moscovitch, has such an impressive track record. She has not only won multiple awards for her writing, but has done so while tackling an almost unbelievable breadth of heady topics, including, but not limited to gender politics, Stalinist Russia, the Holocaust, the Canadian military in Afghanistan, and the nature of time. In Moscovitch’s words, Little One “is an exploration of guilt, family, trauma and the limits of love.”

The synopsis for the play – which runs in New Westminster at Anvil Centre Theatre from Feb. 4-6 and in Vancouver at Firehall Arts Centre Feb. 9-13 – reads: “When 4-year-old Claire is adopted into the family, 6-year-old Aaron has to learn to ‘love’ his new monster of a sister. Told through the now-adult voices of its two main characters, Little One weaves stories of childhood horror and teenage humiliation into a twisted, wryly funny, and ultimately haunting narrative. One that asks how far you’d let a psychopath control your life, and what you’d do to regain it.”

photo - Daniel Arnold and Marisa Smith in Little One — Daniel Arnold and Marisa Smith in *Little One*. *(photo by Kaarina Venalainen)*

In a 2011 blog, Moscovitch pondered why she wrote Little One. In contemplating humor and darkness, she noted that the humor allows “the audience to relax and go with me into the darkness.”

In an email interview earlier this month with the Independent, Moscovitch expanded on this topic. “There is humor in life,” she said, “even in the bleakest circumstances (we know, for instance, from diaries written in the Warsaw Ghetto, that starving Jews, imprisoned there, being terrorized by Nazis, told jokes) and so I tend to want to include humor in my work in order to accurately represent life.

“I don’t know why I write about dark topics. They attract me. I also tend to write historical plays for some reason. I write a lot of works set in the 20th century. I can’t altogether explain my voice and my story instincts as a writer. My guess is, in dark circumstances, human nature is exposed, so I head to dark circumstances (war, disaster) to understand the human psyche.”

Now based in Toronto, Moscovitch was raised in Ottawa, which is where Little One is set. Given the complexity and emotional depth of her work, the Independent wondered what the dinner table conversation was like at home when she was growing up.

“My father is an economics and history professor (he teaches in the social work department at Carleton and his specialty is social policy) and my mother was a social worker and a researcher on women in unions and women in the workplace, so conversations growing up were on the serious side,” she explained. “Conversations were generally abstract, about ideas. Not much small talk.”

She seems very comfortable with having a play that ends with some questions unanswered.

“Clarity opens up one possibility in the minds of the audience. Ambiguity opens up two or more possibilities in the minds of the audience,” she explained. “It’s a sophisticated form of storytelling. Makes the story more complex.”

Moscovitch’s own story is relatively complex, and her path to writing a little winding. As high school came to a close, she auditioned for National Theatre School in Montreal, and then spent time in Israel on a kibbutz and in England when she wasn’t accepted. When she returned to Canada, she got into NTS, graduating from its acting program in 2001, though also being introduced there to playwriting. One of the plays she wrote as a student was workshopped by the Great Canadian Theatre Company in Ottawa.

Moving to Toronto, it only took her a few years to find her niche as a playwright. Her short play Essay premièred at the 2005 SummerWorks Festival; The Russian Play, in 2006, won the festival’s prize for best new production. Her first full-length play, East of Berlin, premièring at Tarragon Theatre in 2007, was nominated for a Governor General’s Award. And the rest, as the saying goes, is history. She has won multiple awards for her writing over the years, and her plays have been mounted in several different countries. She also writes for other media, including radio, TV and film.

In a 2014 article on kickasscanadians.ca, she said, “For me, there’s a big question about whether I want to be a Canadian playwright or an American TV writer.” Her answer so far is that she’s “a Canadian TV writer as well as playwright,” though she told the Independent, “My husband and I talk about moving to London or New York for a year, to meet new collaborators and immerse ourselves in a different theatre culture.”

In her work, she added, “I try to show Canada to Canadians. We see tons of work by Brits and Americans. Canadian audiences like to see themselves represented (is my sense).”

Other aspects that enter her plays derive from her cultural background, which is both Jewish (her father) and Catholic (her mother). She told the Jewish Daily Forward in 2013 that Judaism was the core of her identity and that she “write[s] a hell of a lot less Irish plays.” Since then, she told the JI, “I’ve written a play called What a Young Wife Ought to Know that draws on my Irish heritage! It’s set in a working-class Irish immigrant district of Ottawa in the 1920s.

Probably because I was immersed in my Jewish heritage growing up – including Hebrew school, temple, Jewish holidays, bat mitzvah, trips to the concentration camps in Poland and to Israel to work on a kibbutz – my Jewish side has always loomed larger in my imagination.”

She most identifies with Judaism’s traditions and holidays, “especially Passover and Shabbat. I’ve named my son Elijah. The oldness of our culture compels me, our 5,000-year history. I spent a lot of time reading about the Holocaust when I was younger and that’s influenced me profoundly.”

With such a talent in writing, it’s hard to believe that Moscovitch initially tried her hand at acting. “When I was younger,” she shared, “I wanted to be a lawyer or a librarian or a war journalist. I wrote poems and stories my whole childhood though. My mother tells me she knew I’d be a writer because I was always reading and writing growing up.”

As to her current projects, Moscovitch is as busy as ever.

“I have a première in Edmonton at U of A in March (The Kaufman Kabaret) and at the Stratford Festival in August (Bunny), I’m working on an opera with a Philadelphia-based composer named Lembit Beecher. Along with a number of collaborators, I’m co-adapting Fall On Your Knees by Ann-Marie MacDonald for the stage. I’m talking to a Japanese theatre company about writing a play about Hiroshima. I’m writing a project with Maev Beaty, Tova Smith and Ann-Marie Kerr about modern maternity (in development at the Theatre Centre). I’m talking to 2b theatre in Halifax about co-creating a project that would feature the lives of my Romanian great-grandparents, Chaim and Chaya (both of them arrived in Halifax when they immigrated to Canada).”

And dream projects? “There are a number of brilliant artists in Canada I’ve yet to work with,” she said. “I’m a big fan of Vancouver’s Electric Company!”

For tickets to Little One at Anvil Centre Theatre ($25/$15), visit ticketsnw.ca. For the Firehall Arts Centre performances ($23-$33), visit firehallartscentre.ca.

Memorial reflects loss, hope

On Jan. 26, Robyn Driedger-Klassen (soprano), Joseph Elworthy (cello), Mark Ferris (violin), François Houle (clarinet) and Mark Fenster (baritone) will be joined by Lani Krantz (harp) and Kozue Matsumoto (koto) in a performance of Renia Perel’s Songs of the Wasteland. (photo by Lindsay Elliott)

On the eve of International Holocaust Remembrance Day, Jan. 26, Renia Perel’s Songs of the Wasteland will be presented by the Vancouver Academy of Music (VAM).

The musical memoir is written for two singers and an instrumental ensemble. The first part, “From Tragedy to Triumph,” features songs of remembrance, including to the children who died in the ghettos and to Perel’s family who were killed – she and her sister Henia were the only ones who escaped. The second half, “Survival,” begins with a song Perel dedicates to her husband, Morris, who passed away in 1999, and concludes with “Jerusalem,” Perel’s hope that, one day, there will be no more war.

“I regard Songs of the Wasteland as an epochal work of art that hopefully will in future be as commonly heard during times of Holocaust remembrance as say Britten’s War Requiem during Nov. 11 observances,” Joseph Elworthy, executive director of VAM, told the Independent. “This was one of our far-reaching goals when I first discussed with Renia about mounting the production on Jan. 26, the eve of the UN International Holocaust Remembrance Day.”

Perel approached Elworthy in December 2014 about collaborating with VAM, he said, “as she held a long-standing respect and admiration for the quality of music education we deliver. Songs of the Wasteland was the perfect instrument to realize this desire.”

And Perel’s work connects to VAM’s vision and purpose.

“VAM believes in the transformative power of music to influence our personal development and daily existence,” he explained. “Music has the power to express the inexpressible while allowing room for the listener to formulate their own inner narrative. It is not surprising that Renia turned to music to express her sense of loss and remembrance for the victims of the Holocaust.”

Elworthy also noted, “It is important to point out that VAM is first and foremost an educational institution and not a concert-presenting organization. This allows us more liberty to choose repertoire and projects that will bring educational value for our 1,400-plus students, as well as the community of music appreciators throughout Greater Vancouver.”

This will only be the second public presentation of the work. Elworthy – who, in addition to being executive director of VAM, serves as the head of the academy’s cello department – will take on the cello part.

“The cello so closely resembles the timbres of the human voice, therefore making it a perfect instrument to capture the beautiful nuances of the Jewish liturgical tradition, which are so rooted in song,” he said. “The cello writing for Songs of the Wasteland is exquisite and greatly reminds me of established cello masterpieces such as Max Bruch’s Kol Nidrei and Ernest Bloch’s Schelomo.”

Elworthy will be joined by VAM faculty members Mark Ferris (violin) and Robyn Driedger-Klassen (soprano), as well as Mark Fenster (baritone), François Houle (clarinet), Lani Krantz (harp) and Kozue Matsumoto (koto).

“We are fortunate to have Mark Ferris (VAM violin faculty and concertmaster of the Vancouver Opera Orchestra) as the music director of this production,” said Elworthy. “Mark was part of the original cast and has great insight to the totality of this composition.”

Also part of the original performance was Fenster, the eldest child of Holocaust survivors.

“When Mark Ferris called me and described the piece, I was immediately interested, mainly because of my own family heritage and musical connection with Yiddish and cantorial singing,” said Fenster about why he chose to participate in the 2010 presentation. “Then, later, when I met with Renia and discovered that she and my father lived quite close to one another in prewar Poland, this was an even stronger reason – I could, with my small part, possibly help these two souls, and the many others this piece would surely touch, find some peaceful healing through the expressions in this powerful piece.”

While the music and message of the work remain the same, Fenster said, it somehow “feels more intense this time. I cannot say why. Perhaps because there seems to be more publicity, more media coverage, more interest in the story behind the music, the composer’s journey and her wishes, or because there seems to be intolerance and hatred quite present in the news today. Also, since it is being performed at the VAM this time rather than the Telus Theatre in the Chan Centre, I also feel this may offer a more intimate performance experience for the audience.”

Fenster said that, in performing the work again, his “feelings around the healing and peace-wishing elements of the piece have grown stronger, more profound. Otherwise, I still feel very much as I did in 2010. I still see my mom and dad, their (our) families, and all they went through. And I also see and feel the hurt so many still carry, the ripples from these times and how they have projected into our beings, no matter which faith or personal connection. We’re all affected.”

What also hasn’t changed for Fenster since 2010 are the emotions that Songs of the Wasteland invoke.

“The most difficult work for me in singing this piece is being able to share this art with an honest, open heart, but without it drawing me to tears,” he said. “It took me several weeks of practise in 2010 to get past the tears, and it hasn’t become any easier this time…. I hope we all realize that it doesn’t matter which flag is flying or being torn down, the result is always the same – deep experiences of loss, pain, for us all, from generation to generation. I hope this heartful piece penetrates our fears and leads us to the light that guides us to see love in everyone. That is what I believe is offered in all the scriptures in every tongue.”

One of Fenster’s personal and professional goals is to help people feel peace, believe in themselves and find their own unique joy. In that context, he said, “I wish my own parents could be here to see, hear and feel this piece and all that the composer, arranger, musicians and technicians are sharing. I know they would cry, and smile, and inside they would feel a sense of completeness, a sense that what they went through is understood, compassionately accepted, and that it has led to some wonderful miracles, like their own gratitude, liberation, joy and family.”

For more on Renia Perel’s life and musical work, see “Renia Perel is a ‘survivor who is blessed.” For tickets to Vancouver Academy of Music’s Jan. 26, 7:30 p.m., performance of Songs of the Wasteland, visit vam.eventbrite.ca.

Challenging viewers’ beliefs

“Ganesha,” from Dina Goldstein’s Gods of Suburbia series. (photo © Dina Goldstein)

You have to speak more than one language if you want to read all of the articles on Vancouver photographer and Pop Surrealist Dina Goldstein’s art. English, of course, but also French, Italian, Spanish and Greek, for starters. Among other places, her work has been exhibited in Canada, of course, but also Poland, India, Colombia and, most recently, Holland.

She attended the Oct. 11 opening of In the Dollhouse at Rize Gallery in Amsterdam. “I try to get to all of my openings,” she told the Independent in an email interview. “Traveling and experiencing other cultures is the perk of being an artist. I enjoy being at the exhibition in person and seeing the reactions to my work. The galleries also like it when the artist is there to offer more perspective.”

In the Dollhouse is the second of three large-scale photographic series that Goldstein has created. The other two are Fallen Princesses and Gods of Suburbia. All three have been, or are being, exhibited in various places. About whether galleries pay artists to display their work, Goldstein explained, “The agreements vary from gallery to gallery, sales from the show are split between the gallery and the artist. There are some festivals that cover travel and accommodation in order for the artist to attend. I currently produce my own large-scale projects with the help of print sales and grant awards. These are print sales of my limited edition pieces from Fallen Princesses, In the Dollhouse and the Gods of Suburbia series (displayed on LED light panels).

“There are also art competitions that award cash prizes. This was the case for me when I won the Prix Virginia in 2014 and was gifted 10,000 euros.”

photo - Dina Goldstein (photo from Dina Goldstein) — Dina Goldstein *(photo from Dina Goldstein)*

Goldstein has been a photographer for 25 years. “I started out quite young and worked very hard in my 20s and 30s to create a career for myself,” she said. “I was a photojournalist and traveled to war-torn regions. I freelanced, shooting covers and feature stories for magazines. (I was a staff photographer at the Jewish Western Bulletin.) I also photographed some cheeky ads with some brilliant art directors. People within the Vancouver Jewish community will remember me photographing weddings and bar mitzvahs; alongside, I created my own projects. Usually concentrated on the study of sub-cultures within society, I termed the work ‘photoanthropology.’ These images were documentary, photojournalistic.

“In 2009, I released my tableau series Fallen Princesses, which was an internet success and brought recognition to my personal work. I went on to realize more ambitious projects like In the Dollhouse in 2012, and Gods of Suburbia in 2014. I am now fully concentrated on producing my own large-scale conceptual series and have become a full-time artist.

“Storytelling has always been central in all of my work past and present,” she continued. “Documentary photography allowed me to create and share the stories of Palestinians in Gaza, gamblers at the racetrack, East Indian blueberry farmers in B.C., dog show dogs, bodybuilding state championships and teenagers dirty dancing at a bar mitzvah.”

Readers can see many of those images at dinagoldstein.com. They can also see images of her three large-scale series, all of which challenge viewers to question their beliefs, some of which were instilled in childhood. Is there an ideal body, an ideal marriage, an ideal anything? Can we rest assured that good ultimately prevails and evil is punished?

“Much of my work investigates the myth of perfection and the collective perception influenced by pop culture,” said Goldstein. “Western society today is influenced by pop culture, which informs us how to look, what to like, what to buy. Most people don’t even realize the effects of the unconscious collective that drives us to behave in certain ways. Perfection is not stable or sustainable in nature and in life. Also, there is an individual perspective about what is ‘good’ or ‘perfect.’ This is mainly the reason that I work with archetypes and stereotypes to relay my messages and offer some social critique. By twisting the storylines of beloved characters, I am able to provide some insight into the human condition, and expose the many flaws in the nature of humankind.”

Fallen Princesses takes the Disney version of 10 fairy-tale women, including Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Jasmine and others, and “creates metaphor out of the myths of fairy tales, forcing the viewer to contemplate real life: failed dreams, addiction, obesity, cancer, the extinction of indigenous culture, pollution, war and the fallacy of chasing eternal youth,” reads the description on Goldstein’s website. Goldstein’s Snowy, for example, is pictured in an unkempt living room, holding two kids in her arms, with one child pulling on her skirt and yet another playing on the floor, where a dog eats potato chips that her beer-drinking, TV-watching prince has let fall.

photo - “The Dream,” from Dina Goldstein’s In the Dollhouse series. (photo © Dina Goldstein) — “The Dream,” from Dina Goldstein’s In the Dollhouse series. *(photo © Dina Goldstein)*

In the Dollhouse also features an iconic couple long into their marriage: Barbie and Ken. In Goldstein’s version, Ken begins to understand and accept his homosexuality, and he seems to flourish as the narrative progresses, while Barbie “breaks down and confronts her own value and fleeting relevance.”

But why doesn’t Barbie take her dream car and leave Ken? And the princesses? Granted they likely haven’t been taught the life skills needed to deal with illness, raising a family, etc., but do they just accept their unhappily ever after, or do they rail against it? Are they victims or survivors, both or neither?

“Throughout history, the focus in storytelling has been on men and their outlook of this world,” said Goldstein. “Women’s desires and interests have mostly been marginalized. I feel lucky to live in a free Western society where women’s roles are now more prominent. As a woman experiencing this transformation, I take full advantage by creating art that fully expresses my thoughts and opinions. I create art with fictional characters that has elements of real life. What you see within a work is a moment in time (within the fictional life or these fictional characters). As Barry Dumka pointed out in his essay, yes,

Barbie has lost her head, but she is Barbie and that head can pop right back on. Unfortunately, humans don’t have that luxury. In my tableau, the princesses are thrust into everyday life within realistic environments. They, too, have to figure out how to function and thrive within a complex world.”

Goldstein’s website is fascinating. Not only is her artwork displayed there and her many interviews, but she has a section called Dig Deeper. There, visitors can spend hours reading intelligent, thoughtful analyses of her work, including the aforementioned essay by Dumka.

Despite the grim situation of the princesses, of Barbie, there is humor in Goldstein’s work – there’s something sardonic about seeing Ariel, the Little Mermaid, in an aquarium, Belle of Beauty and the Beast undergoing plastic surgery, or Ken wearing Barbie’s high heels, for example. In Gods of Suburbia, she portrays Satan as a tow-truck operator, Darwin is watching people play the slots at a casino, and Buddha is shopping at Wholey Foods.

“I try to keep everything in perspective,” said Goldstein. “Let’s face it, life can get overwhelming and too serious. I use humor to cope with all that the world throws at me. Also to create conversation about modern society and how we perceive it. I utilize satire, which is intelligent ridicule, and irony, because it creates a situation that differs radically from what is actually the case.”

In a Times of Israel interview, when asked if there was a particular God of Suburbia that moved her most, Goldstein said Ganesha.

“The Ganesha piece was inspired by personal memories,” she told the Independent. “My family moved from Israel to Canada in 1976. At that time, Vancouver was a small town and it had not yet experienced the mass Asian population that you see today. My first few years here were very difficult and, as a young child, it was hard to comprehend.

“Learning a new language whilst dealing with schoolyard bullies. Even in high school, and after many years of integration, I felt different somehow. Most of my family remained in Israel, so we would visit every couple of years for the whole summer. There, I got recharged with chutzpah and the realities of war. So, I became an Israeli/Canadian hybrid. Israeli in many ways and not the typical Canadian. However, these days I know that I’m fully Canadianized because I listen to the CBC radio all day!

“Ganesha is naturally odd, as he has an elephant head and a boy’s body. He is different because of his appearance (I didn’t have that problem) but also because of his unique culture. He is judged for how he dresses, what he eats and even what he believes in. He faces the same cruelty that I encountered in elementary school.”

While all of Goldstein’s art can be seen on her website, there is nothing that can compare to seeing it in person. Gods of Suburbia will travel to Montreal in February to be shown by Art Souterrain. And there also will be at least one local opportunity to see the exhibit next year.

“The Diamond Foundation has generously donated the whole Gods of Suburbia show to appear at the Capture Festival [in April],” said Goldstein. “The exhibition will take place at a new gallery on East 6th Avenue in Vancouver called SOMA.”

Canada’s 1936 Olympic decision

Rarely has a book worked me up as much as More Than Just Games: Canada and the 1936 Olympics by professors Richard Menkis (University of British Columbia) and Harold Troper (University of Toronto).

More Than Just Games was published by U of T Press in the spring. I got my copy from Menkis, who, biases known, I consider a friend. Even so, it took me months to open. The cover image is of members of Canada’s 1936 Olympic team vying for Adolf Hitler’s autograph. Other than some high-quality archival images grouped in the centre of the book, the text is academic, looking almost as imposing as the topic itself. So I was surprised that, when I finally did start reading, I pretty much couldn’t stop. In just over a week, I had read the 230ish-page book, not counting the notes, bibliography and index.

That the scholarship of academics with the credentials of Menkis and Troper would be impeccable I had no doubt. What I hadn’t anticipated was the immediacy they could evoke with their writing. The amount of detail they provide, though on rare occasion overwhelming, serves to bring readers into the period leading up to Canada’s decision to send athletes to the Olympic Games in Berlin in 1936, when there could be no doubt as to the Nazis’ actions and intentions.

Through ample use of citations from letters, articles and speeches of the pro- and anti-Olympic forces, readers witness almost firsthand the debates that took place prior to the Games, they get a glimpse of the almost dizzying number of internal conflicts within the boycott movement, and they get an idea of the amount of propaganda that was being disseminated by Germany in Canada (and other countries). They even learn of some of the differences of opinion between the German Olympic Committee and the Nazi party as to the value of hosting the Games, when the event’s ideal – no discrimination on “grounds of race, religion, politics, gender or otherwise” – ran contrary to the Nazis’ belief in the superiority of the Aryan race, and their efforts to annihilate those they considered inferior.

There were a few outspoken people who tried to waken Canadians to the reality of the Nazi regime – notably journalist Matthew Halton and Rabbi Maurice Eisendrath – but their voices couldn’t rise above the Games’ advocates nor break through the apathy of most of the population. Canada, we are reminded, had closed the doors to Jewish immigration in 1923 – “In distinguishing Jews from non-Jews of the same citizenship, Canada predated Nazi regulations denying Jews and non-Jews equal status under the law by more than 10 years,” write Menkis and Troper.

This is one of the principal reminders of this book, which came out of an exhibit that the professors put together at the behest of the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre, and which opened several months before the 2010 Winter Olympics were held in the city. Canada might have become a model of multiculturalism, but it was not always so.

Another reminder that stands out is that it doesn’t necessarily take evil people for bad things to happen. Many of the supporters – including athletes – of sending Canadians to the 1936 Games sincerely believed in their position on the importance of sport above all, and seem to have been genuinely confused as to why anyone would disagree. Canada’s position was that of a good colony, following the lead of Britain, which saw no reason not to send competitors. It’s not even obvious in hindsight as to whether Canada’s absence at those Games would have made a difference to the Nazis’ progression of violence to war, to genocide.

Sensibly, Menkis and Troper don’t try to examine the issues with the benefit of hindsight. They present numerous viewpoints and historical facts, mostly without judgment. Their opinions, however, pop out here and there via their choice of adjective or use of sarcasm. I found this comforting because they generally reflected my mood at those points in the book. I would be getting all worked up about what was being said at the time and their jibe would make me smile, and not feel like the crazy one. Because that’s what it felt like reading about it – I can only imagine how people like Halton and Eisendrath felt, actually being there, trying to fight against such ignorance, selfishness, pettiness, narrow-mindedness, greed and indifference.

More Than Just Games is an important contribution to Canadian history, and it is not only a must-read but a very good read.

Continuing the legacy

It’s a wonder any of us are alive. And it’s even more a wonder that we are each the result of generations (not to mention stardust). Not only do genes past and present influence who we are, but the actions of our ancestors, both distant and recent, brought us to where we are today. And we are but a moment in time, a link to future generations.

It’s hard not to get sentimental and contemplative reading Living Legacies: A Collection of Writing by Contemporary Canadian Jewish Women (PK Press, 2014). In this instance, Volume 4 that Toronto-based editor Liz Pearl has brought to life; though the previous editions are equally thought-inspiring. Volume 5 is already well in the works.

Among the more than 20 contributors to Volume 4 is Pearl with an essay on her name, Lisbeth Anne Ahuva Pearl Katz, though she has been known as Liz since 1990 and rarely uses her husband’s surname. “I have always liked the name Pearl – a rare and precious gem, and have never considered it just my maiden name,” she writes. “Pearl is a central piece of my name and core identity.” As is her namesake, her maternal great-grandmother Liba Sherashevsky Gitkin, z”l. Born in Lithuania, Liba and her family all died in the Holocaust; her grandmother, Sonia bat Liba, “managed to emigrate in 1935 [to Canada], following a brief courtship and quick marriage” – “the sole surviving member of her family-of-origin.”

About to volunteer as a chaperone on a March of the Living trip, Pearl reflects on the “strong values of Zionism, Yiddishkeit, tzedakah and Jewish education that were central” to her grandmother’s life, which she gained from her mother and others of that generation, and which she passed on to her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and counting. “My namesake and maternal lineage are firmly embedded with history, heritage and wisdom, and form the roots of my solid Canadian Jewish identity.”

Other contributors echo these types of thoughts and feelings. Local author Lillian Boraks-Nemetz, a child survivor of the Holocaust, dedicates her essay, called “Sacrifice,” to her “beloved grandmother, Kazimira Solomon Boraks (1878-1949).” Describing a moment in Russia in the summer of 2010, she writes, “I stand on the shore of the city of the Bronze Horseman, searching the horizon, scanning it for clues to a woman who was born here long before the city became Leningrad, who spent her life in exile, and who died in exile, away from her homeland and her family. A woman who saved my life – my babushka, grandmother in Russian.”

Boraks-Nemetz briefly recounts some of her memories of her years in hiding, the physical and emotional effects of what she experienced and witnessed, her grandfather’s death in the ghetto, and her father’s death only weeks before her grandmother’s in 1948. She notes some of the similarities in their lives – hers and her grandmother’s – and she explains the sacrifices her grandmother made to keep her alive. It is a loving and moving tribute.

Each essay in Living Legacies has something to recommend it. Not all are as deeply serious but all are personal, yet universal. Gratitude is one of the words that comes to mind after reading this collection. Looking at life in the context of the generations before and still to come is both humbling and empowering.

Mother influences chef

The New Kosher: Simple Recipes to Savor and Share by Kim Kushner is a beautiful cookbook with more than 100 recipes that reflect many cultural traditions. There are full-color photos aplenty (by Kate Sears), easy-to-follow instructions, and each recipe has its own brief introduction.

Kushner’s bio notes that she spent “childhood summers in Israel with her extended family,” and there “learned to cook by eating, and by participating in family feasts.” In The New Kosher, she writes: “I was raised in a modern Orthodox home in a vibrant kosher community in Montreal and first learned to cook from my mother, who was born in Morocco and grew up in Israel. My mother’s life revolves around food, and her generosity through her love of feeding other people has been the greatest influence on my cooking.”

Now living in New York with scads of education and experience behind her, including the cookbook The Modern Menu (2013), there can be no doubt that the meals, salads, appetizers and desserts in The New Kosher will make for good eating – and for good sharing with family and friends.

Since it’s almost Chanukah, here are two recipes from the book, one for latkes and one for an applesauce that would go with them quite nicely or, as Kushner recommends: “It’s delicious on its own or served alongside roasted potatoes or even sliced brisket, and both kids and adults love it.”

KIM’S QUICK LATKES
(makes about 24)

5 Yukon gold or red potatoes, about 2 lb (1 kg) total weight, peeled and cut into large chunks
1 large yellow onion, cut into large chunks
2 large eggs
1⁄3 cup (2 oz/60 g) all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
1⁄2 cup (4 fl oz/125 ml) rice bran
oil or canola oil

Preheat the oven to 400°F.

In a food processor, combine the potatoes, onion and eggs, and process with quick on-off pulses until the potatoes and onion are chopped into small pieces, about 30 seconds. Add the flour, baking powder, one teaspoon salt and 1⁄4 teaspoon pepper and process until the ingredients are well combined, a couple of seconds longer.

In a large frying pan, heat the oil over medium-high heat. Using an ice-cream scoop … scoop up the potato mixture, drop into the hot oil, and flatten with a spatula or fork to about 1⁄4–1⁄2 inch thick. Cook only four latkes at a time so you don’t crowd the pan. Once the edges are browned, carefully flip the latkes over and cook until the underside is crisp and golden, about two minutes per side. Transfer the latkes to paper towels to drain. Repeat with the remaining potato mixture. You can serve them right away, but Kushner likes to arrange them in a single layer on a baking sheet and put them in the oven for three to five minutes to give them a final crisping.

To freeze the latkes, let them cool completely, then freeze them in a single layer in large lock-top plastic freezer bags for up to one month. To serve, thaw in the refrigerator overnight and reheat in a 375°F oven until piping hot, eight to 10 minutes.

If you like, sprinkle the latkes with truffle salt just as they come out of the frying pan but, if you plan to do this, reduce the kosher salt to 1⁄2 teaspoon.

VANILLA BEAN APPLESAUCE
(makes 3-4 cups)

10–15 apples (any variety), 3.5–4 lb (1.75–2 kg) total weight, peeled, quartered and cored
1 vanilla bean, split lengthwise

In a large pot, combine the apples, vanilla bean and 1⁄4 cup water and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to medium, cover and cook for 35-50 minutes without stirring. (The water will prevent the apples from scorching.) The timing will depend on how many apples you use: the more fruit, the longer the mixture will need to cook. To test for doneness, pierce the apples with a fork. They should be extremely soft and almost falling apart.

Carefully remove the vanilla bean from the pot and let it cool for a few minutes. Then, using the tip of a sharp knife, scrape the seeds into the pot and discard the pod.

Let the apple mixture cool for about five minutes longer. If you prefer a smooth applesauce, transfer the mixture, in batches, to a food processor, and pulse until smooth. If you prefer a chunky sauce, use a potato masher to mash the fruit to your desired consistency. Let cool completely, then transfer to one or more glass jars. The applesauce will keep in the fridge for up to two weeks.

The capacity for excellence

It’s a wonderful concept. A family flees from Russia in 1928. By 1933, they are running a lodge in Canada – the only place Jews can stay. Among their more known guests are the Marx brothers, in particular for the plot, Harpo. Jump to 2003 and the fourth generation, Emily Kogan runs away to her family’s lodge to escape her unraveling PhD thesis. While her academic future remains uncertain, her research brings clarity of her family’s history and of the connections that truly matter.

The Capacity for Infinite Happiness (Buckrider Books) by Alexis von Konigslow is a solid first novel. Von Konigslow is a talented writer with a gift for language and storytelling. Straight away, she sets up the mystery and the tension, describing the scene as Emily’s great-grandmother, Ayala, prepares to flee Russia with her husband and daughter, Blima, Emily’s grandmother:

“Pay attention,” said the tall man.

He was so long that he seemed to be folded into the hallway. He was standing close to Blima’s mother, his big hands around her smaller ones, pressing papers into her palms. Blima had seen this man before, and she hadn’t liked him then either. She backed away, quietly so that they wouldn’t know she was there.

“Ayala, I need you to listen to me,” the man said again.

Ayala bowed into his chest. Blima shivered.

“I don’t want you to panic, or pretend that you’re bored. Here’s what I want you to do. When the officials ask to see your papers, I need you to pinch the little girl, pinch her hard. Don’t tell your husband that you’re going to do it. That way, she’ll be crying, you’ll both be concerned, everyone will want the scene to be over.”

Blima crouched down. She was the only little girl in the house.

“Also, make sure that your shirt is unbuttoned,” the man said, touching her mother’s blouse. “That will help.”

“I don’t want to do this,” said Ayala.

“As a plan, it’s perfectly safe. You’ll send these back by post. We’ll be together again before the end of the year.”

The questions that arise from this opening passage, notably about the man helping Ayala and her family, are central to the novel and keep you reading as it struggles to find its feet. The book’s format, which alternates between Harpo’s 1933 visit to the lodge and Emily’s 2003 visit, interrupts the flow at first and doesn’t become a tension-increasing device until about two-thirds of the way into the book. As well, while von Konigslow’s poetic writing is succinct, it is also repetitive on a few points: Harpo’s concerns about whether he’d make a good father; whether or not William, who Harpo meets in the woods on more than one occasion, is a real person or a figment of the actor’s imagination; and Emily’s ruminations about her thesis and her successive excuses for putting it off.

For almost 200 pages, The Capacity for Infinite Happiness is an OK read; its last 100-plus pages, however, as it becomes more focused and races towards “the reveals,” are excellent. A few minor edits would have made the novel a standout from start to finish. As it is, it is still worth reading for its unique premise, the quality of writing and its insights into Jewish life in the first half of the last century, the meaning of family, how we impact each other even across generations and, most important, love.

Tales of courage and sacrifice

Serious topics are at the fore of the books for younger readers reviewed by the Jewish Independent this Chanukah. From the story of a Russian dancer whose life is cut short by pneumonia to Canadian teenagers who must work 13-hour days for little pay to young Danes who take on the Nazis, these recent publications respect the intelligence of their audience and, through the combination of entertaining narratives and compelling images, broaden their understanding and knowledge of the world.

Swan: The Life and Dance of Anna Pavlova (Chronicle Books) is intended for readers ages 6-8. It is truly a work of art that writer Laurel Snyder and illustrator Julie Morstad (who happens to live in Vancouver) have created. The illustrations are stunning and the placement of the text is also artistically done.

As Snyder explains at the end of the book, Anna Pavlova was born in 1881. Her mother was a laundress, “and Russia under the czars was generally a world where the poor stayed poor. Anna’s life should have been dismal.” But then her mother took her to the ballet. Onstage, “A sleeping beauty opens her eyes … and so does Anna. Her feet wake up! Her skin prickles. There is a song, suddenly, inside her. Now Anna cannot sleep. Or sit still ever. She can only say, dip and spin….”

The story follows Anna as she practises and practises, until finally accepted into ballet school. After which, more practising, “Until one night she takes the stage … Anna becomes a glimmer, a grace.” She becomes world famous, traveling the globe, though never forgetting her humble beginnings, and becomes a ballet teacher when she can no longer perform. “Until a chill finds Anna, hunts her down alone, without her boots and mittens. A wind. A cough beside a stopped train. A rattle she can’t shake.” In the book, as she apparently did in real life, Anna asks for her swan dress from her sick bed. One last performance, if only in her mind. She died in 1931.

For readers interested in knowing more about Anna Pavlova, Swan includes a nine-book bibliography.

* * *

While change may take awhile in coming, it can be achieved. Take, for instance, working conditions in Canada. The title of Anne Dublin’s 44 Hours or Strike! (Second Story Press) comes from one of the unmet demands that led to the Toronto Dressmakers’ Strike of 1931: a 44-hour work week.

After their father is laid off, Rose must leave school to work in a dress factory. When their father dies from tuberculosis and their mother becomes ill from an unknown ailment (at least at first), 14-year-old Sophie must join her 16-year-old sister at the factory. The working conditions are appalling and they include a lecherous foreman.

When the workers go on strike, there is little empathy. Immigrants (especially Jews) are resented and not trusted, and the Depression has left many people in dire poverty. In an altercation 10 days into the strike, Rose – who did nothing wrong – is arrested with some other strikers and, without due process, is sentenced “to 30 days at the Mercer Reformatory for Women or a $100 fine – as if she had ever seen that much money in her life!”

Sophie must continue her strike duty, as well as care for her mother. She receives some comfort from the friendship of Jake, a paperboy who, unfortunately, is not Jewish.

44 Hours or Strike! – aimed at readers 10 to 14 years old – covers a lot of issues in its 124 pages. The archival photos really help put readers in 1931 Toronto, and brief biographies of some of the labor activists at the time are included at the back of the book. Dublin also lists many options for further reading on the topic.

* * *

The incredible true story of a group of Danish teenagers who, during the Second World War, fought against the Nazis through acts of sabotage is told by Phillip Hoose and Knud Pedersen in The Boys Who Challenged Hitler: Knud Pedersen and the Churchill Club (Farrar, Straus and Giroux).

This book is comprised of Hoose’s narrative and excerpts from his nearly 25-hour interview with Pedersen in 2012, as well as photos, illustrations, scans of documents and sidebars. At times, it’s hard to know where to look on a page and what to read first. But that shouldn’t be a problem for the 12-to-18-year-olds for whom the book is written.

Pedersen was in Grade 8 when, on April 9, 1940, Germany attacked both Norway and Denmark. The Norwegians put up a valiant, if short-lived, resistance. “Jens [Pederson’s brother] and I, and our closest friends, were totally ashamed of our government,” Pedersen says. “At least the Norwegian victims had gone down in a country they could be proud of. Our small army had surrendered to the German forces within a few hours on April 9…. One thing had become very clear: now any resistance in Denmark would have to come from ordinary citizens, not from trained soldiers.”

The brothers with a few others started their rebellion in Odense, where they were living. They called themselves the RAF Club, after the British air force. They would do things like change or damage road signs and cut telephone lines.

When their father was posted to Jutland and the family moved, the brothers organized the Churchill Club; named, of course, after Winston Churchill. They continued their acts of resistance, which came to include blowing up train cars full of material the Nazis needed. Eventually, after about a year, all of the Churchill Club boys were discovered and sent to jail in 1942. The brothers spent two years in prison. Hoose lets readers know what happened to them and their co-saboteurs. There is a selected bibliography and author’s notes on each chapter. This book would be great as the basis of a school project.

Life-changing lecture

Avrum Nadigel (photo from Avrum Nadigel)

Not only is there no quick fix to making a relationship work, but there’s no quick fix for absorbing the main points of Avrum Nadigel’s Learning to Commit: The Best Time to Work on Your Marriage is When You’re Single. Its lessons can’t be summed up in a few bullet points – you’re going to have to read it.

That being said, Nadigel will have to make the audience at the Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival “fall in love with” his book in less than 180 seconds. He’s part of the event A Literary Quickie, which takes place on Nov. 22, 10 a.m., at the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver. The brunch event lineup includes authors Richa Dwor, A.D. Gentle, Rosa Harris, Revital Shiri-Horowitz, Paula Hurwitz, June Hutton, Evelyn H. Lazare, Olga Medvedeva-Nathoo and Marina Sonkina. Admission is by donation.

Nadigel has been a therapist for more than 15 years. He received his master’s of social work from McGill University in Montreal in 1997, and did post-graduate training with the Western Pennsylvania Family Centre, which teaches Bowen family systems theory. He also received supervision via Skype from author and family therapist Dr. David Freeman (who died in 2010). In Learning to Commit, Nadigel doesn’t just offer theories, but advice gained from personal and professional experience. Advice that changed his life, and he’s hoping it’ll help others.

Though Nadigel only lived in Vancouver for about six years, from 1999 to 2005, it was here that he first encountered Freeman, who was speaking at a singles event at the J. His words had a profound impact on Nadigel.

“For all I thought I knew about relationships (I was a practising therapist at that time), Freeman debunked many of my own assumptions, for example, that poor communication is the cause of relationship problems,” writes Nadigel. “He introduced novel ideas about romantic love, providing subtle warnings that the very things that cause a young lover’s heart to flutter can, down the road, be the catalyst of dissatisfaction and divorce. He encouraged us to focus on our own interests, because the more interesting we are to ourselves, the more we have to bring to the table in our relationships.”

Nadigel had come out west, lured by the Rocky Mountains. “From that moment on,” he said, “I knew I had to live near mountains, but also in close proximity to a Jewish community. Vancouver was an easy choice.”

He told the Independent, “It was a total ‘head west young man’ move. I was 30 years old. I sold everything I owned, loaded all of my guitars, some clothes and CDs (remember those?) and headed west. No job, no family, no relationship and only one friend in B.C.

“For money, I worked as a child protection worker, and then as an addiction therapist and family therapist…. Most importantly, I took courses at Emily Carr, composed music for films and learned how to mountain bike.”

He also came here to meet a local Jewish woman but, he said, “true to [his] commitment-phobic self,” he “couldn’t find anyone in Vancouver (or Victoria, Seattle or Calgary) to settle down with.” Eventually, on frumster.com, he met the woman who would become his wife, Dr. Aliza Israel – from Richmond. At the time, she was living and studying in Toronto. “Anyway, we dated long-distance (perfect for a commitment-phobe), and then I agreed to move wherever her residency would be. She was accepted into the Toronto psychiatry program, and the rest is history.”

The two were married in June 2007 at the J here because that’s where Nadigel first heard Freeman, which led to his rethinking about marriage and other things. “The JCC in Vancouver holds a very special place in my heart,” he said.

And so still does Freeman, one of the people to whom Learning to Commit is dedicated, “for providing me with a lighthouse; a way to navigate the rocky seas of my relationships.”

At least one of the ideas in the book seems counterintuitive – the admonition to not compromise.

“Too many relationship books/ speakers assume that compromise is the key to a successful relationship, and so our culture embraces this opinion – and that’s all it really is. And good people use this to avoid growing … discomfort, fear, etc.,” explained Nadigel. “Compromise is no virtue if it’s the first thing you reach for to avoid difficult discussions or situations. Now, more mature people are able to compromise without feeling like they’re betraying their values/principles, because they’re clear on what they stand for, and what they won’t put up with. They won’t compromise on big-ticket items, and will be willing to face the sting/consequence of staying true to their principles.”

In Learning to Commit, Nadigel writes, “According to Dr. Murray Bowen, togetherness and individuality are two opposing forces that we are all born with. We spend the rest of our lives trying to reconcile their often-contradictory impulses.” A well-differentiated person – someone who is confident of their values and principles, and doesn’t change their opinion or action “just to defuse tension” is able to balance those opposing forces.

“Differentiation is not selfishness,” stressed Nadigel. “It is not about a focus on my needs, damn everyone else. It’s about living a life guided by well-thought-out principles, some of which will address who I want to be/act/think with my partner, children, parents, colleagues, friends, etc. It’s about balancing feelings with good, clear thinking. Actually, one could say that immature, high-feeling-centric people are so fragile that the mere thought of considering another person’s point of view is crushing, whereas higher differentiated people can choose to be guided by their partner’s best interest. But the key here is choice!”

The lessons in Nadigel’s book are relevant for all relationships – in fact, he writes, “one of the main tenets of family systems theory [is]: ‘You will only succeed in future relationships in ways you have already succeeded with your parents, siblings and/or extended families.” They are also useful in dealing with controversy or difficult issues, in developing the ability to hear what you need to hear, even though you may not want to hear it.

To remain open, he explained, “you need two things – curiosity and (if possible) playfulness. These things are very hard to come by in high-tense situations, i.e. acrimonious marriage, Middle East discussions, anything involving high emotions mixed with perceived/real threats. Which is why I believe, as a blogger recently noted while discussing my book: ‘Doing some self-examination and exploration … while we are single might be the best marital therapy we’ll ever have.’ Curiosity and playfulness is much more likely when we’re single, or dating, than when mired in the marital muck of resentment, etc…. I think the best that one can do – in any area – is to share your thoughts as clearly as possible, and without any expectation that people are going to support your thinking or applaud your efforts. When you think about the qualities of great leaders/leadership, these attributes apply.”

For the full book festival schedule, visit jewishbookfestival.ca.

Hot off holiday press

In the last couple of months, three new Chanukah-themed picture books have been published. Most recently, out of Mahone Bay, N.S., is Hanukkah Lullaby. Out of New York City are Oskar and the Eight Blessings and The Parakeet Named Dreidel. All three are delightful.

Hanukkah Lullaby, written by Ruth Abrams and illustrated by Tia Mushka, is part of a series of books from Baby Lullaby Publishing. Until this holiday edition, the series – the books of which have various authors and illustrators – has focused only on places: in Canada, Newfoundland and Labrador, Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, Saskatchewan, and Alberta; in the United States, Hawaii and Alaska. Each book, intended for a 0-to-6-year-old audience, has a link to its own song and video. The music for Hanukkah Lullaby was composed by Keith Andrews and the video was made by Jonah Peveril, both of whom have contributed to other lullabies in the series.

Hanukkah Lullaby follows one family’s celebration: enjoying the winter snow, making dreidels, lighting the chanukiyah, dreaming of the Maccabees, eating all the fried treats, spending time with Baba and Zayda, singing songs, telling the Chanukah story and having a lantern parade. The last two pages of the 18-page board book offer a very brief overview of the holiday’s symbols and rituals, and a paragraph summarizing the story of the Maccabees. Abrams’ lyric text and Mushka’s bold, colorful artwork make for a lovely read.

***

Oskar and the Eight Blessings (Roaring Brook Press), written by husband-wife team Richard Simon and Tanya Simon and illustrated by Mark Siegel, is for somewhat older readers, ages 4-8.

It begins, “Oskar’s mother and father believed in the power of blessings. So did Oskar … until the Night of Broken Glass. His parents put him on a ship to America. He had nothing but an address and a photo of a woman he didn’t know – ‘It’s your Aunt Esther.’ – and his father’s last words to him: ‘Oskar, even in bad times, people can be good. You have to look for the blessings.’”

When Oskar arrives in New York, it is the seventh day of Chanukah and he wants to reach his aunt’s – 100 blocks away – before she lights the chanukiyah. Along Broadway Avenue, he encounters a woman feeding some pigeons, a newsstand vendor, Count Basie, boys having a snowball fight, First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt and a Christmas tree seller. He is treated with kindness at every turn, and is able to reciprocate on more than one occasion. Siegel’s rich illustrations beautifully capture the darkness and the hope of Oskar’s journey.

In the author’s note that follows the story, Richard Simon writes about the inspiration for the book and its 1938 setting, including a bit about the real people the fictional Oskar meets along the way.

“Oskar has lost everything,” he writes, “but from his despair he awakens to his freedom: the choice to see the good in his new world. I like to think that this orientation of optimism is the key to our survival, as individuals and as a species. It is how we, as American Jews, have made a place for ourselves beyond the shadow of darkness that tried to destroy us.”

***

The playful and imaginative watercolor illustrations by Suzanne Raphael Berkson dovetail perfectly with Isaac Bashevis Singer’s story in The Parakeet Named Dreidel (Farrar, Straus and Giroux).

Intended for kids age 5 to 8, the title character loses his way. As David and his parents celebrate Chanukah, David notices the yellow-green bird outside their window. A cold Brooklyn night, they quickly move aside the chanukiyah (so the bird won’t get burned by its candles), open the window and welcome it in. Initially frightened, the bird settles down, eats some millet, drinks some water, plays a little dreidel – and speaks some Yiddish! “Zeldele, geh schlofen.” (“Zeldele, go to sleep.”)

Despite posting notices around the neighborhood, no one claims the lost bird, who the family names Dreidel. The “photo” montage of Dreidel and David growing up together is wonderful. The bird really does become part of the family.

When, years later, David meets a woman named Zelda at college, it turns out that she is Dreidel’s Zeldele. But lest readers worry that Dreidel leaves David’s parents, the bird becomes part of a larger family when David and Zelda get married, their families come together, and the couple decides to start a family of their own.

All of three of these books are available from chapters.indigo.ca and their respective publishers in hard copy and electronic formats. Hanukkah Lullaby will be available at the Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival, Nov. 21-26, at the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver.