Arts & Culture – Page 113

The Normal Heart comes to Jericho Arts Centre

Daniel Meron co-stars in The Normal Heart, which runs July 18-Aug. 16. (photo by Javier R. Sotres)

Larry Kramer is an incendiary activist who was among the first – and most irate – to raise alarms about a new disease that began killing gay men three decades ago. Kramer was at the forefront of the movement to direct public – and, notably, government – attention to what would become known as AIDS.

Kramer’s play, The Normal Heart, is a polemical cri de coeur written at the North American height of an epidemic that has become the world’s leading infectious killer and the cause of 36 million deaths to date. That is a number almost equivalent to the number of people currently living with HIV, the virus that causes AIDS. And, while extraordinary scientific advances have been made in controlling the symptoms of the disease, most of those treatments remain out of reach for the vast majority now fighting the virus, who are in the developing world.

While the severity of the health crisis has now become clear to most people, Kramer was writing in a time when almost no government resources were allocated to the virus and few in the power structure – from media and medicine to the president of the United States – seemed to care or even acknowledge that gay men were dying in exponentially increasing numbers.

A Jewish playwright, Kramer drew parallels to the world’s reaction to the first reports of the Holocaust. A later book by Kramer, in 1989, would be titled Reports from the Holocaust: The Story of an AIDS Activist.

The Normal Heart opened on Broadway in 1985. Its power remains, with an HBO drama broadcast in May of this year, starring Mark Ruffalo, indicating that social sensitivities to the issue have progressed perhaps as much as the retroviral medical advancements that have made the virus something closer to a manageable disease than the certain death sentence it meant as recently as a decade ago.

The play is now being staged in Vancouver. In it, Daniel Meron, who received a bachelor of fine arts degree in acting from the University of British Columbia, plays Felix Turner, the closeted lover of the main character, Ned Weeks, a stand-in for the playwright Kramer in this barely concealed autobiographical play.

It is a script trembling with rage and Meron sees the topic in a continuum of Jewish activism.

“There is definitely a strong sense of social justice in the Jewish tradition and, like Kramer, I find myself fighting for those who can’t stand up for themselves,” said Meron, who was active in Hillel and the Jewish fraternity Alpha Epsilon Pi during his time at UBC.

“The thing that stands out to me from doing this show was how the U.S. government, the gay community, and the entire world wanted to turn a blind eye to the entire situation,” he said. “As Ned [Kramer’s character] mentions numerous times in the play, the events that took place are eerily similar to the Holocaust.”

Meron, who was born in 1987, said he was struck by the impact The Normal Heart had among gay men who lived through that period.

“Before starting the journey of this play, I wasn’t aware how important The Normal Heart was to so many people,” he said. “It reminds me of speaking to Holocaust survivors. I feel so fortunate to play such an integral part of this story. The greatest thing for me would be to do justice to the story of all the men and women who fought and continue to fight for LGBTQ rights.”

The Normal Heart previews July 14, opens July 18 and runs in repertory until Aug. 16 at Jericho Arts Centre with two other plays as part of the Ensemble Theatre Company Summer Festival. Details and tickets are available at ensembletheatrecompany.ca.

Pat Johnson is a Vancouver writer and principal in PRsuasiveMedia.com.

Through blues to happiness with Jill Newman

Jill Newman at Cottage Bistro May 9 singing from her new CD, Lovestruck Blues. (photo by John Endo Greenaway)

Happiness. Perhaps ironically, Jill Newman’s performance at the release party for her latest CD, Lovestruck Blues, exuded happiness. The May 9 show at Cottage Bistro featured bright vocals, skilful (and electric) electric-guitar playing, cheerful interactions with the audience and a playlist of well-written, original songs, many about finding love, but also about losing it – even these, though, exhibit optimism, finding the courage and strength to be on one’s own and true to one’s heart.

Newman’s talents as a songwriter and musician were obvious in her debut recording, Fragile Walls, in 2004. The review in the Independent (“A garden of musical delights,” April 22, 2005) ended with the comment, “It’s been a long road for Newman to reach this creative milestone. Hopefully, it’s the first of many.” A decade later, Lovestruck Blues is another welcome milestone – and there’s nothing fragile about it. It exhibits the confidence and contentment of someone who has, so to speak, come out the other side. As Newman writes in the CD booklet, “It is the story of my journey – of turning my world upside down, taking some risks and being blissfully happy for having done so.”

image - Lovestruck Blues CD cover — *Lovestruck Blues* is Jill Newman’s second CD.

During the period between releases, Newman told the Independent, a lot changed for her personally and musically. “My first CD was the culmination of many years of dreaming of making my own recordings,” she explained. “I was going through a difficult time in my life, including a breakup, so the songs were really all about loss and heartbreak. I had a great producer who took care of almost everything for me, from arranging the songs to organizing and directing the entire recording process.

“Today, I’m in a much better place personally, having just gotten married a few years ago and feeling happy. That does present some challenges for writing the blues – as lately I’ve been writing happy blues songs. I produced Lovestruck Blues myself with support from my engineer, Marc L’Esperance. I made all the final decisions in terms of how I wanted the recording to sound and directed the recording sessions in Seattle and Vancouver. I was not going for a retro sound, but that’s really what comes out. I’ve played in everything from country, punk, blues and even an all-female Led Zeppelin tribute band, so I’m quite eclectic in my approach to music. I’m often told that my music should be in soundtracks for Quentin Tarantino’s films, the less happy songs, that is.

“I’m most at home in front of a live audience rather than in the studio, as I really enjoy the energy and the interaction between the audience and the band,” she added. “I’ve been doing lots of performances and my live shows are definitely stronger than they were 10 years ago. I’ve also been doing quite a bit of vocal work over the past few years. Songwriting is always a challenge, with lots of hours spent struggling with lyrics – I still tend to write the music first or jointly with the words and then fine tune the lyrics.”

Lovestruck Blues includes 10 original songs, one of which – “Too Hard to Handle” – was co-written with Vancouver actor, artist, director, playwright and songwriter Lynna Goldhar Smith.

“I’m originally from Wisconsin, but immigrated to Vancouver Island with my family as a teen. I spent about 25 years living in the Vancouver area, with some brief stints in Washington,” said Newman about her community connections. “I was raised in a secular Jewish household with no religious upbringing, but I identify culturally as Jewish. My most valued connection to the Jewish community was my past involvement with the Peretz Centre for Secular Jewish Culture. My daughter, Michelle, participated as a young teen in the b’nai mitzvah program, which was a great experience for both of us. I also enjoyed singing in the Jewish Folk Choir and participating in the Peretz programming.

“I’ve worked for Jewish Family Service Agency in Vancouver and in Seattle and participated in advocacy to address poverty in the Jewish community in Vancouver. I combine my work as a professional guitarist, singer and songwriter with my part-time work as a therapist with teens who are struggling with mental health issues. When I have spare time, I enjoy being in the outdoors kayaking or sailing.”

photo - Jill Newman and her daughter, Michelle Baynton, at the Lovestruck Blues CD release — Jill Newman and her daughter, Michelle Baynton, at the *Lovestruck Blues* CD release. *(photo by John Endo Greenaway)*

A woman with many abilities and interests, Newman’s musical path also started somewhere other than where it led.

“I started in music playing classical flute at age 9 and got involved in community symphony and jazz combos as I got older, with a stint studying jazz in college,” she told the Independent. “My first stringed instrument was the banjo, followed by the acoustic guitar and pedal steel [guitar], but when I first plugged in an electric guitar (Stratocaster copy) at age 15, I was totally hooked. I loved the sound and the power of the electric guitar, especially turned up loud with distortion. A friend who’d been in rock bands taught me how to bend the strings properly and I began specializing in playing lead guitar – something very few girls were doing when I was a teen.

“I played constantly and learned everything I could figure out by Heart, Aerosmith, Yes and Led Zeppelin, but I also started writing my own songs and performing in coffeehouses. By my early 20s, I was making a living as a full-time professional guitarist and, other than recovering from a hand injury, I’ve never stopped playing. I feel strongly that we need more female electric guitarist role models and I volunteered as a guitar instructor for Vancouver Girls Rock Camp in 2012.”

And what draws Newman to the blues? “It’s the raw emotion and the simplicity of the music that grabs me,” she said, reiterating, “I’ve had a longstanding love of the electric guitar and, when I first began listening to blues players like Freddie King and Eric Clapton, I was blown away by the expressiveness of their playing. In recent years, I’ve been focusing a lot on slide guitar, which has a range of expression that emulates the human voice and beyond. There’s nothing more soulful than Roy Rogers playing slide guitar on Elmore James’ song ‘The Sky is Crying,’ or almost anything by Ry Cooder or Derek Trucks.”

Part of the fun of the Cottage Bistro CD release party – in which she was accompanied on stage by Loren Etkin on drums and Brian Scott on bass – was the seemingly spontaneous invitation by

Newman for her daughter, Michelle Baynton, and Cecile Larochelle to join her in a couple of the songs they each performed with Newman on Lovestruck Blues.

“One of the things that was the most special about making this new CD,” Newman admitted, “was getting a chance to record with my daughter, Michelle. She’s just finishing her opera degree at UBC and, despite my doing a very different style of music, we get a lovely vocal blend together. Michelle sang background vocals on my songs, ‘Everything Will Change’ and ‘Without You.’”

Newman, along with Etkin and Cameron Hood (bass), will perform next on July 14, 9 p.m., at Guilt & Co., 1 Alexander St., in Vancouver. For other upcoming performances, keep an eye on jillnewman.net, sign up to receive email updates or like the Jill Newman Blues Facebook page.

Stotland plays Carlebach – in Yiddish!

“Montreal Jewgrass” musician Adam Stotland channeled one of his musical gods since childhood – Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach – in his acting debut last month.

Stotland, who has Vancouver family connections, landed the title role in the musical Soul Doctor: The Journey of a Rock Star Rabbi, which made its world première in Yiddish at the Segal Centre for Performing Arts in Montreal, with a June 8-29 run.

photo - Adam Stotland — Adam Stotland *(photo from cnjews.com)*

Stotland, 37, is not a rabbi or exactly a rock star, but he is a cantor and singer-guitarist known for his brand of music that blends klezmer and other Jewish folk music with the sounds of bluegrass. He is a huge fan of Carlebach, the charismatic, yet controversial, voice of the Jewish revival movement of the 1950s through ’70s. But, as Stotland pointed out to the Segal team when they invited him to audition, he had never acted before – and didn’t know Yiddish.

He also wasn’t sure if he could find the time between his duties as cantor, for the past two years, at Shaare Zion Congregation and his busy performing schedule. He and his wife also have a young child and are expecting another.

Besides, as always, the actors and singers in Dora Wasserman Yiddish Theatre productions are highly talented, but unpaid.

But the Segal insisted he would be ideal.

Stotland headed a cast of 30, which included Mark Bassel, Aron Gonshor, Burney Lieberman and Sam Stein. Co-directors were Bryna Wasserman, artistic director of New York’s Folksbiene Theatre, who convinced the Segal they had to do this show, and Rachelle Glait.

Written by Daniel S. Wise with lyrics by David Shechter, Soul Doctor had its Broadway debut in English last summer. It was hailed by the New York Times as “a joyous, leaping roar” and “unabashedly celebratory show.” The Montreal show featured English and French supertitles.

More than 30 of Carlebach’s greatest hits over his 40-year career are featured, backed by a live band. “He had the ability to compose simple tunes that touched you,” Stotland said.

There is a storyline, and Stotland spent “hours and hours” learning the dialogue. His knowledge of Yiddish had been limited to a few affectionate and sometimes colorful phrases he knew from his bubbie. “Having a musical ear, however, has helped me get the meter, the lilting melody of the language,” he said.

Soul Doctor recounts Carlebach’s life from his childhood escape from Nazi Germany and his early rabbinical career, to his discovery of gospel and soul music after meeting acclaimed jazz singer Nina Simone in 1957. An unlikely collaboration and friendship blossomed from there.

He moved away from his strict Orthodox upbringing, but brought the Chassidic love of song to mainstream Jews. He developed a signature sound that combined folk, pop and soul with traditional Jewish music and liturgy, and his popularity grew well beyond Jewish fans. He performed with the likes of Bob Dylan, Jefferson Airplane and the Grateful Dead.

But stardom had its price and Carlebach, who died 20 years ago, struggled with personal demons that strained his family life and shook his faith.

“The music and journey of Rabbi Carlebach is one that will resonate strongly with our community,” said Wasserman prior to the opening, adding that the production “captures the spiritual essence of his songwriting.”

– For more national Jewish news, visit cjnews.com.

Melanie Fogell’s paintings inspire imagination

Melanie Fogell’s paintings inspired the story told here. (photo by Olga Livshin)

The solo show Illuminated Forests by Melanie Fogell is on display at the Sidney and Gertrude Zack Gallery until July 27. As I wandered through the gallery, surrounded by Fogell’s paintings, I felt as if I were in a varicolored forest, alive with stories. Stories grew between the majestic trees, flitted among the rustling leaves and dozed under the evergreens.

***

Tia guided her wheelchair into the park. The dappled leaves whispered above her head, green and pink and pretty, smelling of sunlight. She resented them. Nothing should be that beautiful, while she was stuck in this ugly chair. After a single brief glance around, she stared sullenly ahead, into the shimmering, fragrant air. She found it oppressive. An hour outside, as the doctor prescribed, and she would head back home, into her room, where no beautiful things waited.

A gasp to her left caused her finger to jerk on the control stick, and her chair lurched forward. No matter how she detested the forest’s loveliness, she didn’t want to run anyone down. When she stopped and looked for the source of the noise, she saw an old woman in a wheelchair. The woman’s silver hair surrounded a pale wrinkled face like snowy lace.

“Hi,” the woman said. “You startled me, dear. How romantic. Two wheelchairs meeting in a park. Almost a love story.” She smiled.

“Nothing romantic,” Tia blurted. “And nothing to smile about. Definitely not a love story.” Tears sprang up, despite her attempt to suppress them. “Stupid,” she muttered, her fingers tightening on the controller.

“Don’t go,” the woman said. “It’s lonely here. Would you tell me about yourself? Was it an accident? I’m Alice.”

“I’m Tia.” Tia nodded stiffly. Alice looked truly interested. Why not? She had to kill the next hour anyway. She started talking. She was in a car, with her friend driving, and a drunk driver rammed his van into them.

Both her friend and the drunken jerk ended up dead, leaving her alive to deal with mangled legs.

“They are broken in a gazillion places.” She kept a sob inside by sheer willpower. “I was a dancer. Now, I’m … a cripple. The doctor said I might walk again, eventually, after another surgery. I’ll probably always limp. No dancing for sure.” This time, a sob escaped.

“So, you got lucky,” Alice said calmly. “You survived.”

“Lucky, ha!” Tia swore loudly, daring Alice to disapprove. She would never have said anything so rude before her accident, but now, she didn’t care. Rudeness even made a perverted sense. It helped her not to cry.

Alice nodded. “Good idea.” Then, she too swore, very creatively. “The trees absorb our anger and hurts,” she said. “They heal us. With obscenities, we pour out our pain, bury it. It’s like verbal manure.”

Surprised, Tia laughed. “You think so?”

“Yes. Now, inhale the sweet air. Take in the goodness.” Alice looked expectant, waiting.

Tia shrugged. Inhaled. Alice was right, the forest smelled good. It smelled of living things, of dreams.

“Now swear again,” Alice said. “Repeat after me.” The following string of descriptive verbal abuse made Tia laugh aloud for the first time since the accident. She dutifully repeated the words, wincing only a little.

“Well, dear. Do you feel better? I have to go back now, so I’ll have to turn here, at this intersection, but we’ll meet again, right?” She reversed her chair and met Tia’s eyes. “I hope you’ll walk soon. Bye, Tia.” Alice brushed her thin fingers across Tia’s hand, and then rolled away into the gold and green mosaic of the foliage, vanishing behind a bend in the greenery. The lower branches swayed in her wake, a bird trilled overhead.

“Bye, Alice,” Tia said. She did feel better. Only later, after returning home, she realized that she didn’t even thank Alice.

She visited the park every day afterwards, watching the trees and the light change with the season, feeling her pain draining away. She never met Alice again. The next surgery went well, and she healed quickly. After a couple months of grueling physiotherapy, she started limping on her own feet. The doctor said the limp would fade in time. No dancing, of course, but walking felt good. She would find Alice and say thank you.

The autumn forest overflowed with color, reds and greens and yellows of every shade. The fallen leaves bounced under her shoes. Alice would love it, she thought. But when Tia entered the nursing home on the other side of the park, Alice wasn’t there.

“She died in the spring,” said the receptionist. “Are you Tia?”

“Yes,” Tia breathed.

“She left something for you. She was an artist.”

It was a small painting, a forest in spring: leaves and sunlight embracing each other in a quiet melody of green and amber and peach, singing of hope.

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].

Meghan Goodman finds adventure in dance

Meghan Goodman will perform next with Dusk Dances at Dancing on the Edge July 4-6. (photo by Dan Cento)

Meghan Goodman, a Vancouver dancer and yoga teacher, has always been daring. “Since I was a kid, I’ve had a big sense of adventure,” she said in an interview with the Independent. “I loved biking fast, doing interesting things.”

Her predilection for adventure frequently informs her choices, even now. At school, she was torn between the arts and sciences. At university, she majored in dance and minored in math, but eventually dancing as a career won out. “Dancing is exciting and challenging, and it has a nice community of people doing it,” she said.

Dancing also offers a variety of jobs and the ability to schedule her professional life. And, it feeds her desire for perpetual learning.

“The more I dance, the more I learn. There is always something new to learn. Never a dull moment. I noticed that mature dancers can do more, maybe not physically, but they have more inner richness, know how to channel emotions. Dancing has been an interesting and educational journey for me. I would probably be bored with a regular job. I like that my every day is different; I like the fluctuations. There are busy times and free times. Some days, I have three jobs a day, but there are periods when I don’t have anything scheduled. Then, I can rest or travel.”

Her craving for new and stimulating experiences led her to Aeriosa Dance Society, a company that performs dancing in the air, or rather on walls of tall buildings and other vertical surfaces.

“I’ve been a member of Aeriosa for about five years,” said Goodman. “I had seen them perform … and thought it was amazing. When, before the Olympics, their director asked me if I wanted to join – of course, I said yes.”

She revels in aerial dancing. “I love it. I have six or seven contracts with Aeriosa every year, about one-third of all my jobs…. My highest performance with them was about two years ago in Toronto – we performed at the level of the 33rd storey. But, more often, it’s eight- or 10-storey buildings, like the Vancouver Public Library. Or sometimes it’s the trees. It takes a special type of person to perform in the air and lots of training. It needs a different technique than dancing on the floor, because of gravity. When we dance on a vertical surface, we use different muscles.”

Goodman also has her own company, which is an adventure in itself, like any small business. In 2008, she co-founded Body Narrative Collective (BNC) with two friends, one of whom left the company soon after. Julia Carr and Goodman still keep it running.

“We don’t even remember how we first met, Julia and I,” Goodman said, laughing. “Maybe we had classes together or performed together. Now, we have BNC together. A collective needs three people, so we always bring at least one other person for every project, maybe a composer or an artist, usually more than one. Our latest project, Dark Room, had over 20 people.”

She explained that BNC has an interdisciplinary focus, viewing various artistic disciplines through the lens of dance. “Julia is interested in photography, and Dark Room was a collaboration between photography and dance. We explored different photographic techniques by integrating dance and huge, blown-up images. The show premièred in December 2013.”

Another aspect of Goodman’s life is teaching yoga. She began practising yoga in 1998 and received her first teaching certificate in 2006. Seeking ways of working with a wider range of students, she began studying Iyengar yoga. In 2013, she completed the Iyengar Intro 2 teaching certification.

“Iyengar yoga is suitable for all ages,” she said. “It’s good for people who like precision, science and math, like me. We use lots of props – ropes, straps, blocks – and slow, careful movements, so everyone could benefit from a pose, study it. This kind of yoga is excellent for those recovering from injuries and surgeries.”

For Goodman, Iyengar yoga has become a path to stability. “It’s good for settling myself after the excitement of a dance or aerial performance. It feels still and calm, brings me into a quiet space, provides a balance for my dancing and my busy life.”

She teaches predominantly adult students. “When I was younger, I often taught kids – first tutoring at school, later dancing lessons. I like teaching but now I prefer teaching adults. It requires a different level of passing information. Mostly, I teach yoga but I still teach dance once in awhile, usually in specialized workshops. I taught a workshop of contemporary dance to figure skaters. They discovered that they compete better with some dancing training.”

“Dancing is always extra – extra income and extra joy.”

Goodman sees teaching yoga as her future. “Dancing doesn’t last forever, but yoga teachers get better with age, improve. I can practise and teach yoga in my eighties,” she said cheerfully. “Right now, teaching yoga adds security to my life. It pays the bills. Dancing is always extra – extra income and extra joy.”

Goodman’s next performance will be with Dusk Dances, a Toronto company specializing in dancing in parks and other outdoor spaces. Part of this year’s Dancing on the Edge festival, the free shows will take place in Portside Park from July 4-6, 7 p.m. For more information, visit meghangoodman.wordpress.com or dancingontheedge.org.

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].

When Jews Were Funny promises less and more than it delivers

Director Alan Zweig, right, and Marc Maron. (photo from Sudden Storm Entertainment)

When Jews Were Funny is a seemingly straightforward title that promises both less and more than Alan Zweig’s unexpectedly provocative documentary delivers.

The Toronto filmmaker’s stab at closing the book on American Jews’ enormous contribution to 20th-century comedy is funny ha ha, all right, but the laughs are more of the chuckle variety than outright guffaws. At the same time, the film is also a tad funny-weird, shot through with a personal streak that’s disarming and discomfiting in equal measure.

Yet, when all is said and said – there’s no doing in this film, only talking – When Jews Were Funny is oddly satisfying. Zweig may be seeking answers but, instead of a mood of finality, his film has a catalytic effect. It invites every Jewish viewer to weigh in – personally and anecdotally, emotionally and sociologically – on the sources and state of Jewish humor on the long road from immigration to assimilation.

Zweig achieves this unusual level of reflection by structuring When Jews Were Funny so that it feels like its viewers are party to a succession of conversations. Instead of buffeting the viewer with punchy sound bites delivered via rapid-fire cutting between interviewees, he serves up chunks of real-time interaction.

It would normally be the smooch of death for a talking-head documentary to linger at length on the faces of its interviewees. But when they include Shecky Greene, Ed Crasnick, Howie Mandel, David Steinberg, Judy Gold, Gilbert Gottfried, Bob Epstein and Stewie Stone, we await with anticipation the next insight, witticism or off-the-wall remark.

Paradoxically, and somewhat perversely, Zweig doesn’t lead with his best material. To the contrary, he makes the risky and self-effacing choice of opening with Shelley Berman, who’s baffled into near-silence by Zweig’s earnest questions.

A legendary figure, Berman saw himself as a comedian who had to appeal to everyone – he didn’t do “Jewish” material. So, while it’s factually accurate to call him a Jewish comic and he takes pride in being Jewish, he doesn’t see himself as a purveyor of Jewish humor. So, he asks, what does Zweig want from him?

At first, it seems that Zweig is on a quixotic quest to identify and define the qualities of Jewish humor, and Berman represents an awkward, inauspicious beginning, but we’re intrigued by a filmmaker who showcases his own pratfall – in the crucial opening minutes, no less – rather than leaving it on the editing room floor.

Things improve for Zweig (and the audience) from here, and we’re treated to a variety of incisive analyses, off-the-cuff musings and entertaining meanderings from comics who span three generations. They pinpoint various characteristics of Jewish humor, from clever wordplay to an off-centre worldview to droll melancholia (which, depending on your perspective and the joke in question, might express defiance or fatalism).

The bottom line? “Jews own comedy,” declares Steinberg, speaking more directly and less diplomatically than most of his peers. “I’m proud to say that’s true.”

As a form of proof, and for classic straight-ahead laughs, Zweig intersperses brief, delectable clips of Alan King, Rodney Dangerfield, Harvey Stone, Henny Youngman and Jackie Mason performing on The Ed Sullivan Show in the mid-1960s. This was the golden age of Jewish stand-up, when Borscht Belt vets found mainstream success, and it coincided with Jews across America transitioning from outsiders to insiders.

The viewer gradually realizes, however, listening to Zweig question and interact with his subjects, that he is propelled less by ethnographic interest than by some nagging personal dilemma. Almost imperceptibly, When Jews Were Funny begins to feel like a first-person documentary in which we continually hear but never see the protagonist (that is, the filmmaker).

Zweig desires reassurance that the bittersweet experience and restless personality that drove so many wonderful Jewish comedians is not disappearing.

It’s not giving too much away to say that Zweig remembers the joy of growing up with extremely funny uncles (never aunts) and grandparents, and frets that his young daughter will never know “old Jews.” He desires reassurance that the bittersweet experience and restless personality that drove so many wonderful Jewish comedians is not disappearing.

A few interviewees call Zweig on his not-so-hidden agenda, pointing out good-humoredly that even his angst-fueled inquiry is uniquely Jewish.

“Look at you,” says the New York stand-up comedian Modi. “We got a camera crew to discuss your Judaism. It’s so self-obsessive. What goy, what Christian in the world is running around now with a camera crew, ‘Talk to me about being Christian!?’ No one cares.”

When Jews Were Funny taps into a large reservoir of affection and tenderness, which is not the first thing you’d expect to encounter with urban Jewish performers. Perhaps the film’s generous heart explains its award for best Canadian documentary at the Toronto International Film Festival last fall, since there’s nothing innovative or especially adroit about the filmmaking.

That generosity extends to the audience. Zweig’s implicit concerns about the future of Jewish identity evoke, and include, our own. And what could be more Jewish than a large plate of jokes with a side order of gnawing doubt?

JI readers can get $1 off the digital download of the film, which screened last fall in both the Vancouver International and Vancouver Jewish Film Festivals, at whenjewswerefunny.com by using the discount code JEWISH.

Michael Fox is a San Francisco film critic and journalist.

Leiren-Young first literary laureate

In 2013, the Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival in partnership with the Isaac Waldman Jewish Public Library announced a new initiative: the Jewish literary laureate project.

“It is a vision of Yosef Wosk,” said book festival director Nicole Nozick in an interview with the Independent. “He came to me at the end of last year, and we talked about it. The City of Vancouver has its poet laureate, Evelyn Lau. It’s a similar concept, only belonging to our Jewish community. The post is a two-year position, selected by our laureate committee, to be a literary ambassador to the community, spread love of the written word, raise the profile of Jewish writers, encourage reading and writing and promote multicultural exchange.”

Wosk described how he came up with the idea. “I remember hearing about England’s poet laureate when I was in high school. I was intrigued by the idea of poetry playing such an important role in society. A few years ago, I was privileged to be able to endow the position of poet laureate for the City of Vancouver. This helped to champion the place of poetry in our midst. Poetry presents us with a surprising rhythm that moves and inspires us in many ways. Poetry also has the power to condense a great deal of information and emotion into a few well-chosen and often surprising words.

“Once we witnessed the success of the Vancouver poet laureate initiative, I thought it was a natural extension to also stimulate poetry in more particular communities, such as the Greek, Chinese, Jewish, Italian, Korean and so on. Although poetry was my initial inspiration for this program, we concluded this was an opportunity to extend the program to include all forms of literature, such as non-fiction and fiction prose, plays, theatre, etc. Working with the Isaac Waldman Jewish Public Library and the Jewish Book Festival, we have taken the first step towards modeling a literary laureate program for one particular community. If this is successful, it can be replicated in other communities.”

Wosk discussed this project in relation to the current state of the publishing industry.

“Poetry partakes of the eternal,” he said. “In some ways, poetry is an antidote to a plethora of electronic media. Whether reading in the privacy of your home, in a café or in a gathering of poets, we are transported to surprising realms of mind and matter, emotion and spirit. Other forms of literature, like a family of diverse relatives, compliment poetry…. Today, more is being published than ever before. It doesn’t matter whether text is handwritten, printed or electronically mediated: they are all related forms of communication. It still serves the same purpose of transmitting information in one of several forms.”

The benefits of this program are manifold. “Certainly the laureates themselves will benefit by being able to share their creativity with the community,” said Wosk. “They will also receive an honorarium in recognition of their work and appreciation for their time. The community, from school students to other published poets, will be stimulated by the encounter with the literary laureate, who … we hope might act as a catalyst for writing in the community.”

Nozick emphasized that, despite the growth of digital media, people are still reading. “We want our laureate program to take reading to the next level, inspire more participation,” she said. “The particular activities are up to the laureate himself. Each laureate will bring his or her own unique strength and interests to the project. He will have a permanent office at the Waldman Library and work in collaboration with the library and the Jewish Book Festival. Our inaugural laureate is Mark Leiren-Young.”

photo - Mark Leiren-Young is the Jewish community's first literary laureate — Mark Leiren-Young is the Jewish community’s first literary laureate. *(photo from Mark Leiren-Young)*

The committee came together last year and brainstormed who would be the best writer for the position, she explained. “We selected Mark because he is a gifted, award-winning writer. He has experience writing across different genres, including playwriting, memoirs, documentaries, humor, and he is also good with people, able to connect with different generations.”

Leiren-Young commented on how important the position of laureate is to him. “For someone who grew up in Vancouver – and the JCC – it’s a completely unexpected and very cool honor. Yosef Wosk has launched several amazing programs, and I hope I can do justice to his vision for this one. The timing was amazing too. My latest book, Free Magic Secrets Revealed, actually starts at the Jewish Community Centre, and many of the key scenes take place in the JCC.”

Leiren-Young’s pilot laureate initiative is the Multi-Generational Media Lab Storytelling Project. It pairs King David High School students with seniors to share and hone their storytelling in a digital format.

“I recently served as the writer-in-residence for Vancouver Community College,” said Leiren-Young. “While I was there, I spent a bit of time with the oldest student on campus. I think he was in his mid-seventies. From the moment I met him – my first week at VCC – I kept asking if he had any stories he wanted to share. He kept telling me he didn’t have anything.

“Naturally, in my last week, he finally handed me a story about growing up in a small town. He had all these rich, detailed memories about his childhood, so after my residency was over, I contacted the community archive for the town Trail, B.C., so they could have access to and share his stories. But I kept thinking that if I’d known he was willing to tell his stories, I could have set him up with a student who could have interviewed him.”

The multi-media project is in the planning stage now. “Over the summer, we’ll be recruiting seniors, and I’ll work with them to focus on specific stories they want to share,” said Leiren-Young. “In September, when the school year begins, the high school students will be introduced to the project and will prepare their interview questions. The final presentation will take place during the Jewish Book Festival week in November.”

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].

All ages, abilities welcome at Draw Down event

Artist Jody Kramer will be leading one of Draw Down’s many free workshops. (photo by Olga Livshin)

Vancouver Draw Down, a city-wide festival of drawing, is turning five this summer. In 2010, it started as a collaboration between the Roundhouse Community Centre, the Museum of Anthropology at University of British Columbia and the Vancouver Art Gallery, but its roots are found in the United Kingdom and its charitable Big Draw campaign. Their motto reads: “Drawing helps us to understand our world and to interpret and communicate ideas. We campaign to improve visual literacy. The campaign has one aim – to get everyone drawing!”

Marie Lopes, a Roundhouse programmer of arts, culture and environment and one of the founding members of the event in Vancouver, said, “The name Draw Down was inspired by our goal to help people get over the idea that drawing is a precious, frightening activity only practised by artists who have some kind of a mystical talent. Many people who do not think of themselves as artists see drawing as a dividing line between artists and non-artists. We hope to inspire people to get over their performance anxiety and just throw down and draw. We seek to reveal that drawing is a way to think, to dream, to plan and explain, to map, to share ideas and stories, to spend time together, to laugh. It’s intensely satisfying and a lot of fun.”

According to Lopes, in the first year, the Draw Down hosted free workshops at the Roundhouse, MOA, VAG and four community centres, with about a dozen artists participating. “In the four years since we started, we have grown to [more than] 43 free workshops, happening in all 23 Park Board community centres and 20 arts partner venues as diverse as Satellite Gallery and Mountainview Cemetery. We’re hoping to see over 5,000 ‘drawers’ coming out on the Draw Down day,” which will be June 14.

One of the artists who will be leading a workshop, called Dragon Ball, at Strathcona Community Centre is Jody Kramer, a local artist and animation filmmaker. In an interview with the Independent, Kramer said that this will be her second time participating in the event.

“Last year, Marie Lopes called me and asked if I would lead a workshop. I agreed. My workshop was stationed under the Main Street Poodle on Main and 17th. Of course, our theme was a poodle. Over 100 people came to my station to draw during the three hours of my time block. This year, I’ll be leading a workshop at Strathcona. We’ll be drawing basketball players and turning them into dragons.”

The theme isn’t mandatory for participants, just a prompt for those who don’t know where to start. “Anyone who comes to draw with us will have lots of creative freedom,” assured Kramer. “It’s about exploration, making your mark on the world. You don’t have to be an artist to draw. You just have to be brave.”

image - Jody Kramer, a self-portrait by the artist — Jody Kramer, a self-portrait by the artist.

Kramer said people of all ages came to her drawing session under the poodle: toddlers with parents and senior citizens, art students and neighbors. “Children always draw; they are curious and not afraid. Adults often think that there is only one way to draw, the legitimate way, so they stand aside and let professionals do the job, but artists have been challenging such assumptions for generations, breaking with rules. Anyone can draw. There is no right way.”

Her goal is to see everyone who comes to her workshop drawing and happy, “to see their eyes light up with their own ideas,” although she is always ready to answer questions and provide guidance. “I like to give people confidence,” she said. “Let’s take away the idea of beautiful, high art. Let’s simplify art. You don’t have to be Emily Carr. You can draw a map and still make your mark.”

Kramer herself has always liked art but she didn’t consider herself a professional artist until she was in her 20s. “I always doodled, made up stories in pictures, but I didn’t know any professional artists. I thought I would be a writer or a teacher. After university, I worked in an office and I finally met people my age from Emily Carr. Then, I knew. I listened to them talk and I understood them. So, I went back to school, to Emily Carr, to study animation and I loved it. Still do. It makes me feel alive.”

To date, Kramer has created several animated shorts, quirky and expressive visual narratives that make people smile. She produces them in the old-fashioned way – by drawing. “Each film takes about two or three reams of paper [a ream is 500 sheets] for five minutes of film time, 12 pictures per second,” she explained.

She also has taught art, but pointed out that she doesn’t like a classroom setting. “I like teaching in a public environment. I worked as an educator for the Vancouver Art Gallery, conducted school tours and kids activities. I also worked for the R2R Film Festival, where children watch movies and make movies.”

Creating art in any form and shape makes her happy, and she will try to instil the same delight in everyone who comes to her drawing station on June 14. To learn more about Kramer’s art, visit jukimuseum.com; for more information on Drawn Down, visit vancouverdrawdown.com.

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].

Mishelle Cuttler’s music and sounds infuse Concessions

Jillian Fargey, back, and Emma Slipp in The Concessions. (photo by Emily Cooper)

Sitting outside an East Vancouver rehearsal hall in the bright sunshine of an early spring day, Mishelle Cuttler is philosophical about going unnoticed. The 26-year-old sound designer and music composer, currently working on the play The Concessions for Touchstone Theatre, mused of her field, “I think it is a discipline that is often unnoticed. It’s kind of like lighting in the way that if you don’t notice it, it probably means that it’s done well.”

Cuttler’s sound design and music may not draw attention to themselves, she said, but they can have a profound effect on an audience. “Music,” she pointed out, “kind of bypasses your brain and goes straight to your emotional centre. Sound in general does that.”

Some of the work that will go unnoticed in The Concessions, then, includes complex sound effects and an original musical score. She will provide the production with digital recordings of animal sounds and rainstorms. She will compose and orchestrate music for scene changes and to underscore some of the action.

The Concessions, by Briana Brown, is the story of a shocking murder in a small Ontario town. Fear pervades the community, as the killer remains at large. Suspects are everywhere, safety nowhere, and the supernatural makes an appearance. The production is part of Touchstone Theatre’s Flying Start program that showcases work by new playwrights. It runs from June 6 to 14 at the Firehall Arts Centre.

The first time she reads any play, said Cuttler, “I keep my eye out for anything audible.” To her, The Concessions has a lot of noise in it, much of it coming from the outdoors. “This play is really about its environment. It’s about this town and there’s a lot of reference to the weather and these storms that are happening,” she said. “There’s the lake and then there’s this forest where this tragedy happens. I think the fact that this place is rural and in nature is very important to the script.”

She said her “number one” task is to create the weather. “It comes up all the time,” she said. “Raining and thunder and wind, there are also some animals referenced in the script that might come out. There’s water … and there’s a lot of silence.”

Knowing when to be quiet is also part of her job. “As a sound designer, I have to be constantly reminding myself that silence can be very important, and sometimes it’s better,” she said.

Touchstone artistic director Katrina Dunn, the director of The Concessions, said one of Cuttler’s greatest challenges is to create the important radio broadcasts that occur throughout the play. Speaking by phone, Dunn said the play has a “whole through-line” that involves the radio. “The local radio station is the conduit through which we feel the larger city,” she said. The play contains an element of magic and, during one five-minute radio broadcast, “the radio goes crazy and goes into another realm. That’s an interesting thing for a sound designer to get to do.”

“I’ve always found composing comes much easier to me when it’s for a purpose, when I’m trying to do something to further a story.”

Cuttler is also writing and orchestrating the play’s original musical score. “In this show, it seems like there will be some pretty complex and interesting scene changes, which is always the most important moment for me,” said Cuttler, whose music will cover the scene changes and underscore some of the action. On a show like this, she has only weeks to compose and, during rehearsal, it’s a matter of days. “I’ve always found composing comes much easier to me when it’s for a purpose, when I’m trying to do something to further a story,” she said.

Cuttler’s work continued through the rehearsal period. As The Concessions took shape, the music and sound design changed. “The music is the stuff that takes the most massaging and figuring out because it’s really tailored to the script specifically,” she explained. That meant composing on the fly, which, she said, is just part of working on a new play. The script “can be very fluid up until the last minute.”

The busy designer, actor and musician will spend the summer playing accordion for Caravan Theatre in the Okanagan. She has a sound design job lined up for next season, and her original musical, Stationary, will be produced at the Cultch in April 2015. “I think that I always dreamed of a life where I was doing lots of different things and I’m fortunate that I’ve sort of achieved that,” she said.

Cuttler was recently nominated for a Jessie Richardson Theatre Award for her sound design on Itsazoo’s April production of Killer Joe. Winners will be announced at the June 23 ceremony.

Tickets to The Concessions can be found at firehallartscentre.ca.

Michael Groberman is a Vancouver freelance writer.

Robin Atlas’ Lashon Hara exhibit at the Zack offers artistic midrash

Artist Robin Atlas in studio. (photo from Robin Atlas)

Midrash has been an integral part of Jewish culture for centuries, mainly in literary form. It also branches into the visual arts, however, and there exists a vibrant, international alliance of artists investigating the sacred texts through their paintings and sculpture, fibre art and theatre. Robin Atlas, a Seattle-based mixed-media artist, is part of the movement, and she considers it a personal challenge to raise the awareness of visual midrash in the Jewish community and beyond.

Atlas has been exploring visual midrash for the past four years. Her new show at the Zack Gallery, Lashon Hara, A Narrative on the Consequences of Evil Speech, highlights some of the results of her exploration.

“I turned to this theme after I suffered from an evil tongue myself,” she shared in an interview with the Independent. “Someone gossiped about me. She said very unpleasant things behind my back and then to my face. I was very upset. I talked to my rabbi’s wife, and she sensed my disquiet. She asked me what happened. When I told her, she said, ‘What lashon hara!’ I asked her what that meant, and she told me. It means ‘evil speech’ or ‘evil tongue.’ I started thinking about it. I felt it was a powerful subject to explore through art. Lashon hara creates pain and darkness. How do we turn this darkness into light? What could I, as an artist, say about it? Our community needed such a conversation.”

The exhibition is Atlas’ contemplation on the topic, its different approaches and consequences. Through the use of textile art, she examines how lashon hara impacts the spiritual realm and the physical world. The show consists of 20 small, framed canvas squares decorated with various materials: beads, appliqués, strings, paint and so on. Each piece is imbued with its own symbolism, and the artist’s explanations of her vision are handwritten on the attached labels.

“I started this project by researching the subject for several months,” she said. “I began with seven titles and then created the pieces to match them. But I felt that seven wasn’t enough, so I thought of 13 more titles and the related art pieces.”

One piece in particular, “Feather Pillow,” encompasses the idea behind the show. It might be seen as an illustration to a story. “It’s a Jewish folk story. I heard it first when I was a young girl,” Atlas recalled. “I did something bad, gossiped about someone, and my grandmother told me that story. When I started investigating lashon hara, I remembered the story again, and it became the foundation for one of the pieces.”

A small panel with the full text of that story hangs next to the artwork. The story compares gossip to a feather. Once on the air, flying away, it can’t be caught and retracted, and those who spread the gossip commit three murders: they kill the souls of the speaker, the listener and the one about whom they gossip. “Three Murders,” another piece in the show, illustrates the point.

Several pieces reflect the artist’s personal way of dealing with gossip, converting its darkness into light. One is called “Bomb,” but Atlas’ depiction is not a weapon: the beautiful, sparkling-with-golden-beads image depicts an unusual bomb, a bomb of kindness. “It’s a retaliation of love,” Atlas said. “We have to stop the circle of evil speech. It’s about that woman who spoke evil of me.”

Although she used the vehicle of the Torah to convey her introspections, lashon hara is not confined to the Torah or the Jewish community, of course. There are examples of “evil tongue” everywhere, in our personal and work lives, in the public sphere. In this respect, the show is both timely and timeless, resonating with everyone of every nation or culture, and age.

The show also has an interactive aspect. “We invite the public to write down small notes: how lashon hara affected them, whether it was something they said or something said about them. The notes are anonymous,” Atlas explained. “Anyone can pin his or her note about their experience of lashon hara to a special board. We provide the papers, the pencils and the pins. At the end of the show, we’ll collect all the notes, shred them and turn them into mulch, to be used for a plant at the JCC. We will, this way, symbolically turn the darkness of lashon hara into light.”

During the opening reception on May 29, Rabbi Carey Brown of Temple Sholom joined Atlas for the Artist’s Beit Midrash, a discussion of lashon hara. The exhibit runs until June 22.

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].