Arts & Culture – Page 143

Unique fictional viewpoint

As far as books go – especially books about the Holocaust – The Jewish Dog by Asher Kravitz (Penlight Publications, 2015), published in Hebrew in 2007, is certainly unique. The novel was awarded a citation by the Israeli Publisher’s Association and it is easy to understand why.

Kravitz is a Jerusalem-born physics and mathematics professor and photographer of wildlife. He has written three earlier books: two whodunits and a book about an Israeli soldier in an anti-terrorist unit. The narrator of this novel is a 12-year-old Jewish dog raised by a single mother (a dog, that is) in 1930s Germany.

When he is born, his mother lives with the Gottlieb family. Despite the family conflict about keeping any of the puppies, when the dog finds the afikoman at the seder, Herschel, the family’s son, declares that the prize is allowing the dog to stay. They name him Caleb.

Caleb is an exceptional animal. He learns to decipher human speech and can read the moods of the adults.

As the story continues, Caleb witnesses the rise of Nazism and the laws being forced upon the family – the housekeeper prevented from working for the Jewish family; the children prohibited from attending school; and Jews forbidden to own a dog.

Caleb is given to a Christian family, where the wife mistreats him, and the story follows his adventures joining a pack, his training as a facility guard dog at Treblinka, and more. All the while, we read Caleb’s philosophical commentaries and are given a great deal of food for thought on human and animal behavior.

Kravitz has produced a well-written novel that is poignant and compelling. Some might say The Jewish Dog is for young adults, but anyone wanting to read a distinctive presentation of the pre-Holocaust and Holocaust period will find this book absorbing.

***

After reading and reviewing this most unusual book, I was prompted to ask the author some questions about this work. When I asked him what prompted him to this type of novel, Kravitz recalled that, as a high school student, he participated in an international quiz about the Second World War, which focused on the Holocaust. One of the anti-Jewish laws enacted by the Nazis was that “raising a dog is prohibited for Jewish families.” He also remembered the images of the signs posted on restaurant and coffee shop doors, “No entrance for dogs or Jews.”

“This is almost a built-in symbol of the Holocaust that connects dogs and Jews,” he said.

Kravitz also related a conversation that he had with an elderly survivor of Auschwitz, who had a deep understanding of dogs and had been a dog feeder in the camp.

The novel began its life as a short story, which Kravitz then expanded. It took more than four years to complete. He said that he studied “the behavior of my own two dogs in order to learn their mannerisms and reactions so that The Jewish Dog would narrate as realistically as possible as a dog.”

Kravitz did not expect the novel to become so popular. “I attribute [its success] to the responsibility I felt for the seriousness of the subject matter and also to the aid I received from the editor who worked with me throughout the writing process,” he said.

Another writer and director adapted the book into a one-man play, which ran in Tel Aviv for almost three years, and The Jewish Dog is now required reading for high school matriculation exams in literature. It has been translated into French, Turkish and English.

Sybil Kaplan is a journalist, foreign correspondent, lecturer, food writer and book reviewer who lives in Jerusalem. She also does the restaurant features for janglo.net and leads weekly shuk walks in English in Jerusalem’s Jewish food market.

An extremist war on women

A small Israeli ultra-Orthodox newspaper in Israel became the target of international ridicule earlier this year after blotting out the faces of three women from a prominent photo of 40 world leaders.

Heads of state were marching through the streets of Paris to demonstrate solidarity with France, opposition to terrorism and support for freedom of expression after Islamic State sympathizers murdered journalists at the satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo and Jewish hostages at a kosher market in a Paris suburb.

HaMevaser, which serves an insular Israeli community indifferent to modernity, seems to have missed the point of the march. HaMevaser editor Binyamin Lipkin defended the altered photo, insisting a photo in the newspaper that included German Chancellor Angela Merkel, Paris Mayor Anne Hidalgo and European Union official Fedrica Mogherini would “desecrate” the memory of the 17 people who were killed.

The incident once again drew attention to the fanaticism of the ultra-religious community in Israel that demands the complete removal of all photos of women in public spaces, tight restrictions on the role of women in public life and severe limits on education for both boys and girls.

Two books, written in a conversational style, came out recently that shine a glaring light on recent controversies sparked by the ultra-Orthodox in Israel. Reading them together provides a broad understanding of the issues.

The War Within: Israel’s Ultra-Orthodox Threat to Democracy and the Nation (Overlook Press, 2013) by journalists Yuval Elizur and Lawrence Malkin, looks at several flashpoints that, the authors say, will invariably turn into even more difficult social, economic and political problems as the ultra-Orthodox population grows.

The War on Women in Israel: A Story of Religious Radicalism and the Women Fighting for Freedom (Sourcebooks Inc., 2014 ) by feminist activist Elana Maryles Sztokman, is an unrelenting assault on Israeli society for accepting blatant discrimination against women in almost every aspect of their lives. At times, the book reads like a social activist’s pamphlet demanding justice.

Israel ranks near the bottom among world democracies on the right to religious freedom. The books are reports from the frontlines in the fight for equality, and will be disturbing for those concerned about civil rights in Israel. The writers leave the impression that radical religious voices are shredding the fabric of the country.

Both books offer portraits of the ultra-Orthodox communities and a brief account of the historical context that led to the current problems. The perspective is clearly that of outsiders who have little patience for the ultra-Orthodox way of life. Nevertheless, it is difficult to ignore what they say.

Roughly 10 percent of the country and one-third of Jerusalem are ultra-Orthodox. Those numbers will likely explode within a generation, if current trends continue. The birthrate within the ultra-Orthodox community is twice the national average. As the children grow up, the impact of the ultra-Orthodox community will be felt in many different ways throughout Israeli society.

Students in ultra-Orthodox schools spend their day studying religious texts, paying scant attention to core subjects of English, math and science. Elizur and Malkin say that most students complete their formal schooling without the education or skills to work in a modern economy.

Several ultra-Orthodox schools go further, refusing to allow girls to write final exams in core subjects in order to ensure the girls do not leave school with a high school diploma.

Meanwhile, the economic life within the ultra-Orthodox community is grim and will likely degenerate even further as their numbers increase. The Taub Centre for Social Policy Research, in a report released in December, pegs the poverty rate in the ultra-Orthodox community at 66 percent in 2013, an increase from 60 percent in the previous year. The ultra-religious have the lowest participation rate in employment in the developed world.

And it’s not just a Jerusalem phenomenon. Ultra-Orthodox communities are scattered across the country. In the ultra-Orthodox community of B’nei Brak, half of all children live in families below the poverty line.

Both books provide an account of the historical roots for these circumstances. The ultra-Orthodox communities have relied almost entirely on national subsidies since the creation of the state in 1948. At that time, the rabbis argued that studying Torah and praying had ensured the survival of the Jewish people through centuries of wandering and persecution.

The founders of the state wanted to maintain the Jewish nature of the state. Religious authorities were given unqualified control over marriage and divorce. David Ben-Gurion agreed to exempt the ultra-Orthodox from military service and pay them to spend their days studying in a yeshiva. In exchange, he expected to receive their support in the Knesset.

The arrangement was a trade-off endorsed by most Israelis for more than 50 years. But demographics have shifted. In 1948, 4,000 students were studying in a yeshiva. Today, around 120,000 students study full-time and are dependent on allowances from the government. Many Israelis now are not so comfortable with the arrangement.

The trade-off has also meant that Israel does not have a constitution guaranteeing individual rights and freedoms. The ultra-Orthodox at that time refused to support a constitution, mostly to prevent shifts in the status of women, the journalists say.

The country’s founders forged practical arrangements without any long-term vision, say Elizur and Malkin. It was a colossal mistake. Successive governments have maintained the status quo, in effect placing huge barriers for those fighting for changes.

As women have asserted their right to be treated equally, religious zealots have escalated their tactics, moving from bullying and shouting to spitting, shoving and throwing rocks.

The ultra-Orthodox succeeded in pressuring Israeli public and private companies to ban female faces on transit ads and force women to sit at the back of the bus. Weak protection for secular values, coupled with liberal tolerance for diversity, enabled the ultra-Orthodox to push bus companies in Israel to segregate 150 bus lines across the country, Sztokman writes.

The arrests of women who sing, wear a tallit or pray at the Western Wall have been widely reported. These books provide numerous anecdotes about the confrontations on many fronts, including some outrageous instances of the struggles that some women face in obtaining a Jewish divorce from a vengeful husband. Around 10,000 women in Israel are in limbo, unable to obtain a get (a divorce decree) from the religious courts.

Elizur and Malkin also look at the government-funded rabbinic councils that operate under a minimum of oversight and with their jurisdiction only loosely defined. They assert control over everything from certifying pensions funds to ensuring that water is kosher.

Women disproportionately feel the impact of the institutions run exclusively by males. None of the judges in the religious courts are women. Until recently, even all the supervisors of the mikvehs were male.

The lack of accountability and vagueness over roles has cleared the way for the rabbinical authorities to attempt to expand their control over the lives of all Israelis. Imprecise boundaries have led to recent flare-ups over matters of division of property, child custody, alimony, child support and education. The army is struggling to find a compromise for ultra-Orthodox who are now enlisted. A battle over jurisdiction over circumcision was recently in an Israeli court.

The power of the religious authorities is on display in the most unexpected places. A produce market has separate shopping hours for men and women. Women’s voices disappear from the radio. A women’s health conference excludes accomplished women researchers and prominent women doctors from its program. Young girls cannot sing in public. Daughters are not allowed to stand by the grave of their fathers to say Kaddish.

Despite the dark portrait of the religious divide, both Sztokman and journalists Elizur and Malkin find reasons to be hopeful. Restrictions on seating on buses have been lifted on some lines; women’s faces are returning to some billboards on the street. Even the Women of the Wall can claim some victories.

Momentum is clearly on the side of the ultra-Orthodox. However, a backlash against the most extreme measures has begun to undo some excesses. The authors also find some members of the ultra-Orthodox community are working to change the system from within. Sztokman, for example, finds hope for religious pluralism in Israel from the work of an emerging alliance of Orthodox feminists and secular activists who are pushing for a more egalitarian country.

Robert Matas, a Vancouver-based writer, is a former journalist with the Globe and Mail. This review was originally published on the Isaac Waldman Jewish Public Library website and is reprinted here with permission. To reserve this book or any other, call 604-257-5181 or email [email protected]. To view the catalogue, visit jccgv.com and click on Isaac Waldman library.

Dancing in gratitude

Serge Bennathan with Erin Drumheller in Monsieur Auburtin, which is at the Dance Centre March 26-28. (photo by Michael Slobodian)

Serge Bennathan’s Monsieur Auburtin is an autobiographical work, which promises to offer “audiences a keyhole through which to rediscover their own childhood dreams, splendidly realized or forgotten through the passage of time.”

Co-presented by the Scotiabank Dance Centre and Chutzpah!Plus March 26-28, Monsieur Auburtin spans Bennathan’s decades-long career, from France to Canada, from student to company artistic director. In addition to being a dancer and choreographer, Bennathan is also a writer and artist. He is known for his collaborations with opera companies, and the projects of the company he founded in Vancouver, Les Productions Figlio, “encompass dance, theatre, music, multi-media, visual art and literary works.”

Among multiple other honors, Bennathan was awarded the 2014 Canada Council Jacqueline Lemieux Prize because of his innumerable “contributions to Canadian dance through his creation work, his performance, his work as a mentor, [and] for his leadership within and beyond his company work. He inspires creativity among those he works with and his impact has been felt in multiple geographical centres and multiple generations.”

JI: Throughout your career, you’ve created personal works, why an autobiographical one at this point?

SB: It came quite organically as a response to a cancer that I was fighting. It made me think about what I love in my life, what made me, the gratitude to be an artist in this world. And how there are a lot of dance works but how we speak rarely about dance with the audience. So, I decided to be a storyteller and talk about how I came to dance and use my life as an artist in dance to talk about other artists that I love and admired. For this, on stage in Monsieur Auburtin, there are with me two dancers, Erin Drumheller and Kim Stevenson, and the composer playing live, Bertrand Chénier.

JI: The last time we spoke was in 2003, about The Invisible Life of Joseph Finch. There, you described your creative process as including up to a year and a half of research before starting to work with the dancers and creative team. How does your process differ, if at all, for a work such as Monsieur Auburtin?

SB: It does not really. It is the same process. I spent a year writing the text for the piece, then another working with the composer Bertrand Chénier. Just talking about life in dance, not talking about choreography but about the essence of dance. Now, here we are, in the studio with two dancers, me and the composer that will be live on stage. The time before is important to create enough stratum, subtext and be able to let go.

JI: From where do you garner the strength/courage to share so much of yourself in your choreography? Does the vulnerability ever scare you? If so, how do you overcome that fear?

SB: We live only once. It is important for me right now to talk to people, and even more important to me in the world we live in, to talk poetically to the audience, through words, movement and music. We all have in us fear, but we also have courage and strength. Doubts are not there to stop us, they are here to make us think deeper. We have to embrace fear to say our truth. And even more when we know that this life is not a dress rehearsal.

JI: [From 1990-2006], you were with Dancemakers in Toronto. What brought you to Vancouver, and how did Les Productions Figlio come to be created?

SB: In 2006, when I stepped down as artistic director of Dancemakers, it was very natural for me to come back to Vancouver. The time that I lived in Vancouver the first time, 1987, ’88, ’89, ’90, defined me as an artist. The people I met at that time became longtime collaborators that continued to work with me through my time at Dancemakers. I loved passionately this community. It is my home in Canada. I created Les Productions Figlio, a production company, to help me create the work I want to create, that is not always dance. I had just come out of 16 years with a dance company and wanted to be lighter as a structure. I create dance, but also theatre and maybe more.

JI: You are also a writer, painter and illustrator. Have you always been interested in these pursuits? What does a typical day or week look like for you, or is there such a thing?

SB: Dance introduced me to these other artistic expressions very organically and I love it. Everything feeds everything. I get up, meditate, write for two hours, paint, continue the day in the studio or the work that I have to do for a creation. Might come back to painting, read, cook, think, dream.

***

Monsieur Auburtin is at the Dance Centre, 677 Davie St., March 26-28, 8 p.m. For tickets ($29/$25/$20), visit thedancecentre.ca or chutzpahfestival.com, or call 604-257-5145.

Family’s little white lie

Lacey Schwartz celebrates her bat mitzvah with her parents, Peggy and Robert. (photo from littlewhiteliethefilm.com)

From Hollywood films like Next Stop Greenwich Village and Reversal of Fortune to documentaries like The Times of Harvey Milk, hyper-verbal Jews are practically a movie cliché. Name the last film that featured a Jew at a loss for words. It’s a stumper, because the silver screen stereotype of Jews is emotionally candid, unabashedly frank and unfailingly articulate. The rare exception to that rule, Lacey Schwartz’s Little White Lie deserves a place in the record books for that reason alone.

The first-person documentary follows the 30-something filmmaker’s effort to learn the identity of her biological father and, more importantly, force her parents to acknowledge and confront a painful secret. At the critical juncture, however, they become unexpectedly tongue-tied.

A fascinating modern mystery that paradoxically chooses not to explore the most interesting aspects of identity and race, Little White Lie airs nationally on March 23 as part of PBS’s Independent Lens series.

Schwartz grew up in Woodstock, N.Y., with doting parents. Her mother, Peggy, married at 21, sticking to a path her parents had instilled.

“We didn’t think outside of the box,” Peggy recalls. “And sometimes it was easier that way.”

Going with the flow seems to have been Peggy and husband Robert’s credo. After Lacey was born in 1977, and relatives or friends would observe that she was darker-skinned than her parents, Robert would point to a photograph of his swarthy, Sicilian grandfather by way of explanation.

Schwartz offers numerous childhood pictures of herself, and it’s obvious to the viewer that one of her parents could be black. Was she adopted? That would make sense, and certainly wouldn’t be a shanda, but no, there’s a photo of a very pregnant Peggy. Did Peggy have an affair? If so, neither she nor Robert ever said a word about it while they raised Lacey like any other white and Jewish girl.

“I wasn’t passing,” Schwartz tells us, referring to the practice of becoming regarded as a member of another racial or ethnic group. “I actually grew up believing I was white.”

One of the odder aspects of this bizarre saga is that Peggy and Robert seemingly never anticipated that one day Lacey would have questions and demand answers. It wasn’t until Lacey started high school – in a neighboring town with African American students – that she began to experience serious cognitive dissonance. The black kids assumed she was black, even though she thought she was white.

Schwartz gives the impression that in the ensuing years, through college and into adulthood, she had to work out her identity issues on her own with little to no help from her parents.

The perfectly titled Little White Lie eventually clears up the paternity mystery but, along the way, the emphasis shifts to Schwartz’s ongoing confusion, frustration and insecurity. In its weaker moments, the film becomes a therapeutic record of, and a vehicle for, her rocky process of acceptance.

Peggy and Robert’s inability to take responsibility for the messy secret at the family core deprives Lacey of the catharsis she seeks, and Little White Lie of a poignant climax.

More regrettable, though, is Schwartz’s disinterest in pursuing a deeper discussion of identity, and the comparative influences of genetics and upbringing. The film operates on a relentlessly personal level that perhaps precludes a broader perspective, but it is, therefore, baffling that Schwarz never talks about which Jewish and African American practices and traits she maintains and cherishes.

Schwartz’s wedding partially addresses this oversight. The filmmaker joins in the hora circle and is lifted with her husband on chairs; a bit later she dances to an African American rhythm. The scene doesn’t have the feel-good power it aspires to, but that’s a minor quibble.

The greater disappointment is that Little White Lie squanders a unique opportunity to bring Jewish culture and values to a wide audience, and African American culture and values to a Jewish audience.

Michael Fox is a writer and film critic living in San Francisco.

Secure a future for Studio 58

(photo from langara.bc.ca)

It’s 50 years in the future. You’re in your landspeeder, zipping along the desert horizon to the Langara oasis for the opening production of Studio 58’s 2065 season! It features the usual outstanding student acting and production talent, plus a very special guest sponsored by the Studio 58 Legacy Fund, which you helped start back in 2015. “Who’d they bring in this year?” you wonder, doing a portal scan through the virtual implants in your right eye. “Ah, they’ve got Antony Holland again. Bravo!”

Holland founded Studio 58 in 1965 (at 94, he is Canada’s oldest working actor) and the Studio 58 Legacy Fund was created to celebrate the school’s 50th anniversary and help carry on its tradition of excellence. The fund will help expand the scope of Studio 58’s productions by providing exceptional practical learning opportunities not otherwise available within the program’s regular operating budget, allowing the hiring of guest artists to work on productions, and permitting the program to offer special workshops, mentorships, etc.

The fundraiser’s goal? To establish an endowment of at least $250,000 – and Langara College will match every dollar raised before March 31, 2015.

Performances play a crucial part within the total program. In the past – through special grant funding or partnerships with outside agencies and companies – Studio 58 was able to enhance the student experience through co-productions, special workshops and mentorships. Sadly, the financial landscape has changed hugely since 1965, which is why the school is now reaching out for help.

Studio 58 has never done anything like this, and is unlikely to again. Donors will receive a charitable tax receipt for any donation, whether made online at langara.bc.ca/studio-58/learn-about-us/legacy-fund.html or by cheque to Langara College Foundation, 100 West 49th Ave., Vancouver, B.C., V5Y 2Z6. Please specify Studio 58 Legacy Fund with your donation.

Whipping Man a must-see

Left to right, Carl Kennedy, Tom Pickett and Giovanni Mocibob hold a seder in The Whipping Man. The symbolism of Passover is an integral part of Matthew Lopez’s play. (photo by Emily Cooper)

On April 9, 1865, the day before erev Passover, General Robert E. Lee surrendered his Confederate troops to the Union Army’s General Ulysses S. Grant at Appomattox, Va., ending the four-year American Civil War and setting the stage for the emancipation of African Americans. This intersection of events forms the backdrop of award-winning playwright Matthew Lopez’s powerful three-person drama The Whipping Man, currently at Pacific Theatre. The play, now one of the most produced dramas in America, is a searing exploration of family, friends, faith and freedom.

There were approximately 50,000 Jews in the South at the beginning of the Civil War. Their sons fought for the confederacy. Many of the families were successful and owned slaves. The Whipping Man is the story of one such family, the DeLeons of Richmond, Va.

The play opens on a stormy night with scion Caleb DeLeon (Giovanni Mocibob) returning in defeat from war to find his family’s mansion ransacked and all the slaves gone except for faithful old retainer Simon (Tom Pickett), who has remained to protect the premises and await the return of his wife and daughter. Another slave returns that night, John (Carl Kennedy), who was raised with Caleb – they are like “two peas in a pod,” according to Simon.

John has been on one of his forays, “liberating” food, utensils and other items from abandoned mansions in the area. He returns to find an injured Caleb, whose gangrenous leg needs to be amputated below the knee. Caleb’s refusal to go to the hospital means that Simon, aided by John, must perform the operation. Especially in the intimate space of Pacific Theatre, the intense, bloody scene, where the protagonists are fueled by whiskey and courage, is not for the faint-hearted, even though a judicious lighting cue takes some sting out of the visceral moment.

It was common for slaves to take the religion of their owners and to learn the customs and the rituals of their adopted faith, so, for Passover, Simon decides they need to have a seder. He sets about to find appropriate items for the seder plate from what little is left after the war: collard greens instead of bitter herbs, small squares of hardtack military ration as matzah, and the shank bone of Caleb’s dead horse, all to be accompanied by the requisite cups of (stolen) wine.

As the three sit among the ruins of the home that connects them, the words and songs of the Haggadah, celebrating the delivery of the Jews from bondage in Egypt, take on new meaning. Simon and John are now no longer slaves; Caleb is not anyone’s master. All three men are presumably equal and the interpersonal dynamics shift. Simon declares to Caleb at one point, “You don’t tell me what to do anymore, you ask me.” Each character must grapple with the upheaval of their world and the new freedom and responsibilities that it brings. As they work through their angst, secrets are disclosed that will forever change their lives.

The acting in this production is sublime. All three men give riveting performances, along with respectable southern accents.

Mocibob, who spends most of the time immobilized under a blanket on the stage – his leg having been amputated – peels away at the layers of his character, who has lost his faith, both literally and figuratively, during the years of war and who faces a moral conundrum regarding his family’s ownership of slaves, which, of course, affects his relationships to John and to Simon and his family.

Kennedy hits the right balance of pathos and anger in his portrayal of the young self-educated slave John, his experiences with the whipping man (a white man to whom Caleb’s father and other slave owners would send their slaves to be punished with lashings from a bull whip) and his slow acceptance of the reality of a crime he has committed.

But it is Pickett who really shines, as the wise old man who has seen it all and yet somehow remains unjaded. He infuses a majestic calmness into the role of Simon. We hear the heartbreaking recollection of Simon’s own whippings and the physical and emotional scars they left behind. We witness his stoicism when he receives news of the death of beloved “Father Abraham” (Abraham Lincoln, the “American Moses”) and hears of the fate of his family.

The set of The Whipping Man is appropriately dark and ominous. Fallen bricks and broken floorboards are set off with shadowy blue lighting and the glow of candlelight; the sound design is a mournful mix of rain and thunder. The shabby costumes add to the grit and desperation of the story. Together, the visual and audio serve as metaphors for the postwar devastation and confusion.

The play, while set more than 150 years ago, is still vitally relevant for contemporary audiences. Slavery, sadly, still exists and The Whipping Man program contains some data on modern-day slavery; hopefully, the play will encourage discussion about and involvement in combating it.

Theatre does not get much better than this – our attention is completely absorbed and we are transported to another time and place, yet by material that speaks to issues with which we still wrestle. There are Jessies on the horizon for this production.

Tickets for The Whipping Man, which runs until March 21, are available at pacifictheatre.org and 604-731-5518. The show is not suitable for children.

Tova Kornfeld is a Vancouver freelance writer and lawyer.

Making personal impressions

Leonard Shane’s artwork is on display at the Waldman Library until March 31. (photo by Olga Livshin)

When Leonard Shane was a child, his mother enrolled him in music lessons. “It lasted only a few months,” he told the Independent with a chuckle. “I didn’t like it. Then I began taking art classes, and it worked. I liked it. But I never painted as an adult until I retired.”

Shane worked all his professional life as an elementary school teacher. “I chose a profession because I wanted to make a living and I loved teaching. It demands lots of creativity. We worked on many creative projects with my classes – creative writing and art – and then I’d hang the children’s works all over the school.”

Fully engaged by teaching, he didn’t think about painting, didn’t have time for it either. “Teaching is an immense responsibility,” he said. “So many kids have personal issues. Some kids are damaged, and you try to help.”

Then, 14 years ago, he retired. “I thought, what to do with my days? So, I took up photography and painting. I could make art on my own terms.”

He also joined Toastmasters for a few years. “I felt alive when I spoke in front of an audience,” he recalled. “This is an important aspect of any art form for me: to express myself. That’s what my paintings are about. With each painting, I try to express what I feel at the moment. Some pieces are soft, the images demand watercolors. Others are strong, full of energy, and I make them in acrylics. With every picture, something wells up from the inside, it flows; it can’t be forced.”

He paints under the influence of inspiration, so there is no set schedule, no deadlines. “I paint when I’m in the mood. Sometimes, I don’t paint for weeks; other times, I have to do it every day, for three months in a row. But I always have some way out for my creativity. When we recently went on a trip to Mexico, I’d go alone to the beach and sketch. I love capturing the essence of a place, love painting outdoors. For me, it’s the preferable experience, enhanced by nature.”

Shane paints mostly landscapes and waterscapes. Sometimes, they are of places he visits often, walks past every day: boats in Richmond harbor or a shoreline in Delta, a local park or a neighborhood street. He might paint these images on location, from photographs, from memory or with the aid of the internet. He invariably puts his own unique style and interpretation into the paintings, making them his personal impressions.

“I take photos with my camera, transfer them to my computer and then put my easel in front of the computer screen,” he explained. “I’d zoom on the photo, sometimes only a part of it, and paint. Other times, a painting might be inspired by others’ artistic works, by visiting galleries. I never copy a photo, always let my imagination fly, let the image evolve. A painting is like a meditation. It allows me to look inside myself.”

Shane has a series of Jerusalem landscapes although he has never been to Israel. Those pictures are a reflection of his inner self, he said. “I learn a lot about myself through my paintings,” he explained.

Some of his pictures are playful, like cats or dogs. Others are lyrical, reverberating with his affection for British Columbia and its diverse scenery. Still others are philosophical. “The end result is not as important as the process,” he said with conviction. “Painting is like a journey. You never know where it will take you.”

Initially, he didn’t think about selling his artwork; it was just a hobby. But that has changed somewhat. “First time I put my paintings out, some kind of outdoor art sale, I was upset that everyone walked past, nobody bought [one],” he said. “Now, I just enjoy the process. I know that we all have different tastes, but the joy of creating art stays with you forever. And I know that, at some point, someone will come along who would love one of my paintings and buy it. One of my wife’s friends bought my painting recently. She often tells me that seeing it on her wall every day invigorates her. It’s very rewarding.”

Shane also makes greeting cards from his paintings and photographs and sells them through several local gift and coffee shops. “You build a relationship with the owners this way,” he said. “After awhile, I approached some of them and offered to hang my art in their shops, and many agreed.”

That’s how Karen Corrin of the Isaac Waldman Jewish Public Library saw his work – in a Starbucks.

“I have known Karen for a long time,” Shane said. “She is a good friend. Suddenly, she called me. She said: ‘I didn’t know you painted. Let’s have your show at the library.’”

Shane’s exhibit of watercolors and acrylic paintings is at the Waldman Library until March 31. To learn more, visit lenshaneart.com.

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

The three trials of Gett

Viviane (Ronit Elkabetz) and Carmel (Menashe Noy) in Gett. (photo from Music Box Films)

The marvelously claustrophobic and deeply damning Israeli courtroom drama Gett: The Trial of Viviane Amsalem – which opens March 13 at Vancity Theatre – actually consists of three trials.

Seeking a divorce after some 30 years, Viviane aims to cast her husband Elisha as the defendant. However, the government-funded religious court vested with authority over Jewish divorces won’t grant a gett without the husband’s consent – and the triumvirate of Orthodox rabbis insists it has limited power to pressure him. As a result, it often feels as if Viviane (rivetingly played by Ronit Elkabetz) is on trial. And, because the process seems arbitrary and unfairly skewed in favor of the husband (the taciturn, unwavering Simon Abkarian), the film explicitly puts the system itself on trial.

“Our work is very political,” said Shlomi Elkabetz, who co-wrote and co-directed the film with his sister Ronit. “Gett is a protest film.”

The Elkabetzes come from a Moroccan Sephardi background, and were born in Beersheva and raised around Haifa.

“We did not have any connection whatsoever to the cultural centres in Israel [growing up],” Elkabetz said during a visit to San Francisco last fall. “We did not have any access, not by our family members and not by the surroundings of the places we grew up in.”

As outsiders who had to push and elbow their way into Israel’s Ashkenazi-dominated cultural hierarchy, they take great satisfaction in Gett’s Ophir Award for best picture and selection as Israel’s official submission to the Oscars in the best foreign language film category. (It didn’t receive a nomination.)

The film’s structure and setup is simple and powerful: Viviane wants a divorce, and her husband says no.

“Just like that there is huge suspense, because we identify with the wish of Viviane to be free,” Elkabetz said. “The dream of the modern world is freedom. She wants something that all of us want.”

The corollary to rooting for Viviane is that the other characters assume the cloak of villains, but the filmmakers made a concerted effort to imbue Gett with nuance and ambiguity, which makes for a more interesting, provocative and richer work.

“[Ronit and I] don’t judge Viviane, we do not judge Elisha, not the judges, we do not judge [Viviane’s] advocate,” said Elkabetz. “Everybody has his place for performing their interior life and making it exterior in that little theatre of the court. Everybody is respected by us, the storytellers.”

Gett marks the third and final chapter of an exceptional trilogy that began, in the very first scene of To Take a Wife (2004), with Viviane’s seven brothers discouraging her from rocking the boat and seeking a divorce. Shiva (Seven Days), set a few years after Viviane has left Elisha, reunites the extended family for a funeral.

Shiva (2008) also won the Ophir for best picture, so the attention and respect of their peers is not a brand new experience for the Elkabetzes. One gets the feeling that Shlomi and Ronit (familiar to movie-goers from The Band’s Visit), a gay man and a woman, respectively, are fueled by the role of underdogs.

For his part, Shlomi Elkabetz wants to make accessible films that provoke audience reactions and, ideally, promote societal change. Intense and often intensely absurd, the beautifully crafted and acted Gett hits every mark.

“If I go to all this trouble, I want people to be aware of the film,” he said. “Part of my attraction in cinema is to try to make cinema that does not give up filmmaking. I’m not trying to flatter anyone but to be strict and radical and at the same time to be popular. Is it possible? I don’t know.”

Elkabetz laughs, at himself and the test he has set for himself. Consider it Gett’s fourth trial.

Michael Fox is a writer and film critic living in San Francisco.

Family inspires playwright

Caitlin McCarthy and Amitai Marmorstein co-star in What You’re Missing by Tamara Micner, which is at Chutzpah! March 10-15. (photo by Tim Matheson)

Playwright Tamara Micner returns to Vancouver in March for the North American première at Chutzpah! of What You’re Missing, a play based on her family’s stories, but in which we will all, no doubt, see aspects of our own experience.

photo - Tamara Micner — Tamara Micner returns to Vancouver for the North American première at Chutzpah! of *What You’re Missing*, a play based on her family’s stories. (photo from Tamara Micner)

Micner left Vancouver in 2003 for Yale, where she earned her bachelor of arts in English literature. She worked with Google for a few years, which took her to San Francisco and Toronto, then studied at Cambridge, receiving her master’s of philosophy in 2011. When she last spoke with the Independent, she was on her way to London, England, because, as she told the JI, “for plays, London is the best city in the world.” There, she has continued learning and working, not only in theatre, but also as a journalist and copywriter. The JI caught up with Micner earlier this month.

JI: When the JI last spoke with you, Fantasmagoriana was at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, and you also had two new plays in the works, one of which was called Highlight. Could you share some aspects of its development, from its première at Cambridge in 2011 as Highlight to its run last year as What You’re Missing at King’s Head Theatre in London, to its upcoming production at Chutzpah?

TM: What You’re Missing has been in the works for four years, and hopefully it will continue to live after Chutzpah as well.

We started developing the play during my master’s degree at Cambridge, with a rehearsed reading and a run at the main student theatre. I then left it for awhile and worked on other projects, and gave myself time to come back to it with greater distance and a clearer head.

In 2013, I did more rewrites and started submitting it to theatres in London, including the King’s Head, which accepted it for final development. By the time we performed it last year, it was pretty well “finished.”

It’s gone through many rounds of changes. It started out more purely comedic and, over time, it’s gotten more political and more serious, alongside the comedy that (hopefully) pervades the piece.

JI: You described Highlight in the 2011 JI interview as being based on the beginning of your parents’ relationship, and as “a dysfunctional family comedy.” In general, what has been the reaction of family (and friends) to the plays in which they see themselves represented? Do you have any advice for aspiring writers as to how to use family/friend elements without causing (too many) hard feelings?

TM: My sense is that my relatives who inspired the characters in What You’re Missing have enjoyed seeing versions of themselves and their experiences represented onstage. (Or they’ve just been polite.) The play is critical and truthful, but it’s also a dramatization, and it’s written from a place of love and affection, which I think comes through. I wasn’t alive in the 1970s, when this play is set, so it’s drawing from elements of my family’s stories – from a specific time, place and set of experiences – to explore broader questions about family, love, politics, religion, gender and so on.

When we debuted the play in London, people of different nationalities, religions and backgrounds said that they related to the story and characters, and saw themselves or their lives reflected in the piece in some way. That response really pleased me (and was a relief!) because that was my hope. I see theatre as, among other things, a way to bring people together and remind us of the things we share.

I think artists need to share their truths, and personal experience is where a lot of our truths come from. That might cause hard feelings. But, if we’re honest and nuanced, rather than heavy-handed, people will respond and connect to the work, and the truth in it will come through.

JI: In 2011, you said that you chose to move to London for its theatre presence and because you loved the city. Has the city lived up to your expectations? Do you plan on staying for the foreseeable future?

TM: I’m very happy living in London. I’ve found a neighborhood and communities that I feel at home in, including easy access to pita, dates and baklava, and I’m still discovering more of the city and the country. I was approved for Polish citizenship last year, so assuming the U.K. doesn’t vote to leave the EU, I plan to stay here indefinitely.

JI: Will you be coming to Vancouver for the Chutzpah shows? If so, how much input, if any, will you have into this production? Did you have any hand in casting?

TM: Yes, I will be in Vancouver for the run. I’ve met with the director, John Cooper, in person and on Skype, and we’ve talked about the origins and development of the play and his vision for the production. He oversaw the casting, and I trust his instincts and judgment. It’s exciting to see how other people interpret your work and bring it to life, sometimes in surprising ways.

JI: Are there any projects you have currently on the go, or that you’re considering undertaking, that you would like to share with JI readers?

TM: I’m developing a new show, Wink the Other Eye, with two actors and a musician. It’s about music hall, a major genre of British entertainment from the mid-19th century until about the ’20s (when ragtime and revue, and radio, started taking over). For example, if you know the song “Daisy Bell,” that’s actually from music hall.

The show is devised – collaboratively created and written – which is a new style of working for me. We plan to do some showings of the piece in the spring, working toward a production later this year. We’ve been approved for funding from Arts Council England to finish development, which is a big help and a stamp of credibility.

Our show looks at Marie Lloyd, one of the most famous performers of her day, who toured the British Empire (South Africa, Australia, North America) and sang from the age of 15 until she died aged 52. She had a story similar to Whitney Houston’s, Judy Garland’s: an insatiable entertainer who lived to perform and had a pretty awful life offstage (including domestic abuse and alcoholism). The show combines live performances of her songs with important moments from her private life, and the actor who plays her is related to her. (We’ve put some of the music and comedy from the show online: soundcloud.com/winktheothereye.)

What You’re Missing is at the Rothstein Theatre from March 10-15. The other theatre offering is Kafka and Son, performed by Alon Nashman, on March 2. Visit chutzpahfestival.com for more information on these and other productions.

Relishing theatre life

Rafaella Rabinovich’s designs from Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Jersey Lily directed by William B. Davis at the Jericho Arts Centre. (photo by Steven Hooper)

Rafaella Rabinovich always knew that she wanted to be a theatrical designer, and she became one – and a successful one at that, without many detours or hiccups.

“When I was 12, my father gave me a camera,” she said. “I photographed lots of shows and I knew I wanted to frame the stage myself.”

photo - Rafaella Rabinovich’s costumes sing on stage — Rafaella Rabinovich’s costumes sing on stage. *(photo from Rafaella Rabinovich)*

After graduating from a high school for the arts in Israel and the mandatory army service, she enrolled in the set and costume design program at Rakefet Levy Design School for the Performing Arts in Tel Aviv. Upon finishing the program in 2010, she came to British Columbia. Today, she is a respected local set and costume designer, doing what she loves and living in a place she adores.

Of course, nothing was as easy or simple as it seems from a brief review of her resumé. “I wanted to make sets. I didn’t care about costumes,” she admitted, “but the design school where I studied only offered a combined program, so I took both. Now, I do more costumes than sets; it’s easier for me as a woman, but I still love doing sets.”

When she first came to British Columbia, she didn’t plan on staying. It helped that she was born in Canada and had Canadian citizenship. “I did have a Canadian passport so I wanted to look around and then travel to Africa,” she recalled. “I loved it here so I stayed. I still haven’t gotten to Africa, but it’s in my plans.”

To justify staying, she applied for a job, with Cirque du Soleil, no less. “I didn’t expect to be hired,” she said laughing, “but they got back to me. I ended up doing two jobs for them. After adding that to my resumé, it was easier to look for design jobs here. In the beginning, I worked as a waitress a lot. Now, I sustain myself with theatrical designs. I feel lucky.”

Unlike many costume designers, she doesn’t wish and never did wish to work in fashion. “I interned with a fashion firm and I learned a lot from them, but fashion doesn’t make my heart sing the way theatre does.”

She enjoys the variety her chosen profession offers, and she doesn’t shy from the smallest jobs. Circus and movies, commercials and theatre – they are all significant to her. From a couple costumes for a display at Science World to the set and costumes for the cast of 27 for her latest production, Fiddler on the Roof at Abbotsford’s Gallery 7, she has done it all. In the five years since she settled in Canada, she has worked on about 20 projects and, she is actively seeking more.

Rabinovich said she relishes every aspect of her work, from research to the final audience applause.

When she does her research for a show, she reads a lot. “For historical shows, classical paintings are great references. And, of course, I do a lot of research online,” she said. “I also read the plays. I need to know the story, the characters. We might have two stories set at the same time, but if the stories are different, the costumes and sets are different too. Think Oliver Twist and Napoleonic France: about the same time, but different places and different stories, different characters. I always need to know the character. Who she is, why she is wearing this hat, this dress. The costume has to complement her personality.”

One of Rabinovich’s past projects was a play that took place at the end of the 19th century, the same time period as Fiddler. “For that project, we wanted the costumes to be true to the times. But for Fiddler, I chose Marc Chagall as my inspiration.”

At times, she has collaborated with a director in her artistic decisions. “If he has a vision of the show, I would respect it,” she said. “He might say: ‘I want it sad’ or ‘It should be happy,’ and I would accommodate his suggestions in my designs.”

The sources of the costume materials and sets she creates vary greatly. Some pieces she buys in thrift or regular stores, others she designs from scratch or rents. “I’m not a seamstress but I know how to sew. Sometimes, if the project is on a low budget, I can sew the costumes myself, but usually, I have a seamstress. I know which vintage store in B.C. would be likely to have a fur coat of a certain color or a special type of curtains.”

She makes all her designs by hand, not on computer like some of her contemporaries. “I’m old- fashioned,” she joked. “I like feeling the fabrics, the textures.” She also likes incorporating lighting into her designs.

Each project she works on presents a different challenge, she explained, but all of them embrace their own rewards. “Seeing your vision come to life, take shape on stage, is wonderful. When you hit the right note, when you think, ‘Yes, that’s it!’ its feels good. And of course I love it when the audience applauds, when the actors wearing my costumes are happy. I’m behind the stage, invisible to the public, and I like it that way, but I’m part of it. They applaud my costumes, too.”

Gallery 7 Theatre’s performance of Fiddler on the Roof is on stage March 13- 21 at the Abbotsford Arts Centre. For more information, visit gallery7theatre.com.

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