social commentary

More than an edgy cabaret

Left to right: Shane Baker, Sasha Lurje and Michael Wex in The Last Night at the Cabaret Yitesh (Di Letste Nakht Baym Yitesh), which closes this year’s Chutzpah! Festival Nov. 9-10. (photo by Shendl Copitman)

“The final sketch in the show, ‘The Last Jew in Poland,’ is based on a real 1930s cabaret sketch of the same name that got Ararat, the famous Yiddish cabaret, closed down,” said creator Michael Wex of The Last Night at the Cabaret Yitesh (Di Letste Nakht Baym Yitesh), which plays at the Rothstein Theatre Nov. 9-10 as part of the Chutzpah! Festival.

“The sketch, however, hasn’t survived,” he continued. “Shimon Dzigan (of Dzigan and Shumacher), who was a member of the troupe, describes the general set-up of the piece in his autobiography, but doesn’t give many details, except to say that everybody involved expected to be arrested the next day (and was surprised not to be). I’ve tried to reconstruct something that would have bothered the censors of the 1930s as much as the original.

“‘Di Endekuvne,’ one of the genuine old songs in the show, was actually banned following its first performance,” he said.

The Last Night at the Cabaret Yitesh is set in Poland in the spring of 1938. With only one performance left before the censor’s office closes the cabaret, and with their visas secured to leave the country, the performers decide to put on a show of forbidden material and greatest hits.

The idea for The Last Night at the Cabaret Yitesh came from Andreas Schmitges of Germany’s Yiddish Summer Weimar, who called Wex with a request.

“Since 2019 was the 100th anniversary of the Weimar Republic, Yiddish Summer was planning a commemorative program and Andreas wanted to know if I could put together a Yiddish-language cabaret revue that would reflect the way Yiddish culture absorbed and was influenced by the zeitgeist of the Weimar era,” said Wex.

Michael Wex (photo by Zoe Gemelli)

Wex, who is Canadian, is an internationally recognized expert on Yiddish. He has many nonfiction books to his name, including Born to Kvetch: Yiddish Language and Culture in All of Its Moods, on the history of Yiddish, and Rhapsody in Schmaltz: Yiddish Food and Why We Can’t Stop Eating It. He’s also a translator, novelist, playwright, columnist, public speaker and performer. His creative process involves much research. For Schmitges’ proposed project, Wex first sought out surviving Yiddish cabaret material.

“I dove into scores of books, listened to even more recordings, in search of authentic material that would still resonate with a 21st-century audience,” he said. “Much of the older material just didn’t ‘read’ anymore: there were a lot of jokes about local politics and references to long-forgotten celebrities. There was fairly strong political censorship in interwar Poland, especially in the years following the Nazi takeover of Germany, which means that much of the surviving satirical material is pretty bland. I deliberately sought out lesser-known Yiddish cabaret songs, including at least one that was never recorded.

“My next resort was to see what was going on in non-Yiddish Polish culture at the time. I went through newspapers from the period to try to figure out how much international pop culture was available in 1920s and ’30s Poland and was delighted to find that Hollywood movies that would have played in Vancouver in, say, 1934, were playing in Warsaw at pretty much the same time, and that Louis Armstrong records were on sale in Warsaw record stores. I looked at the pop music charts: the most popular song in Poland in 1928 was ‘Ain’t She Sweet’ translated into Polish. This information widened the range of material that could plausibly be presented as being performed at the time and gave me the licence I needed to adapt and translate some well-known pop songs of the era into Yiddish.”

photo - Patrick Farrell in The Last Night at the Cabaret Yitesh (Di Letste Nakht Baym Yitesh), which is at the Rothstein Theatre Nov. 9-10 — Patrick Farrell in The Last Night at the Cabaret Yitesh (Di Letste Nakht Baym Yitesh), which is at the Rothstein Theatre Nov. 9-10. *(photo by Shendl Copitman)*

Wex wrote some songs and sketches to round out the show, then came up with the storyline that adds context: the performers whose cabaret is about to be closed, but who have ship tickets and visas to leave the country.

“Suddenly, they’re free to perform what they want to, not only what they’re allowed to,” said Wex, who also directs and acts in The Last Night at the Cabaret Yitesh.

The other people involved – Shane Baker (United States; co-director, performer), Patrick Farrell (US/Germany; original music, arrangements, piano, accordion, percussion), Regina Hopfgartner (Austria; vocals), Daniel Kahn (US/Germany; vocals) and Sasha Lurje (Latvia/Germany; vocals) – “are the people for whom the show was written,” Wex said. “It’s like an A-list of contemporary Yiddish performers and I recall telling Andreas that I wouldn’t do the show without them. It was my one diva moment – but I think it worked.”

The current incarnation of the show premièred at the Ashkenaz Festival in Toronto in 2022. It had changed so much from the 2019 Yiddish Summer Weimar production that, Wex said, “Weimar could almost be seen as a workshop.”

For Wex, giving audiences an idea of what 1938 Poland was like is important “because the whole world is looking more like 1938 Poland with every passing day.”

“Arts and culture,” he said, “including but not limited to comedy and music, is really the best way we have of trying to find a common ground from which to understand conflict, stand up to tragedy and, ultimately, seek out ways to mitigate or ameliorate the feelings and attitudes from which such conflicts and their accompanying tragedies have grown. As we see every day, shouting slogans might make us feel good and brave and involved but it does nothing to establish the common ground necessary to arrive at any kind of understanding with our opponents. Arts and culture, comedy and music – they’re all bulwarks against dehumanization.”

The Last Night at the Cabaret Yitesh is in Yiddish with English supertitles. For tickets, go to chutzpahfestival.com – where you’ll find the whole Chutzpah! lineup – or call 604-257-5145. The festival runs Nov. 1-10.

Songs released since Oct. 7

At Beth Tikvah Synagogue on April 2, Israeli music expert and radio personality Josh Shron will present A Musical Hug from Israel. (photo from Josh Shron)

Beth Tikvah Synagogue in Richmond welcomes Israeli music expert and radio personality Josh Shron on April 2. Shron, longtime host of the radio show and podcast Israel Hour Radio, will be in Calgary and Vancouver as part of a North American tour. He will present A Musical Hug from Israel, which explores songs that have been released in Israel since Oct. 7.

For Shron, Israeli music has always meant more than just nice tunes in Hebrew. It’s been a window into Israeli society, providing a meaningful glimpse into the heart and soul of the Jewish state. “I’ve long believed that Israeli music has the power to connect us to our homeland unlike anything else,” Shron said. “The songs are great, but the stories behind them often teach us a great deal about the amazing spirit of Israel.”

It’s that amazing spirit that has enabled Israelis to cope with the horrific events of Oct.7. Music has been a large part of the healing process.

“The music that’s emerged from this tragedy has been nothing short of inspirational,” said Shron. “It makes us cry, makes us sigh and makes us proud to be supporters of Israel – sometimes all in the same song.”

The presentation will feature a selection of Israeli songs, seen on video with English subtitles. The music will highlight the unity, optimism and determination that have characterized the Israeli people throughout this challenging period, showcasing the resilience and strength that unite them in the face of adversity. The repertoire will include songs that touch on themes of sadness and death. Other songs will shed light on the plight of Israeli hostages in Gaza, serving as a reminder of the desperation felt around the world to bring them all home.

Several Vancouverites have previewed Shron’s presentation and agree that it is a powerful and unique way for the local community to understand the rollercoaster of emotions that Israelis and other Jews around the world have been experiencing.

A former resident of New Jersey, Shron recently fulfilled a lifelong dream by making aliyah with his wife and four of his five children, moving to Modi’in in August 2023.

“I’ve immersed myself in Israeli music for more than 25 years,” he said, “and the more I listened, the more I felt like I belonged there. We put it off for years, but, with our kids getting older, we realized it’s now or never – and we weren’t prepared to say never. Obviously, we wish the circumstances were different, but, during this challenging time, it just feels right to be there. It’s only been a few months, but we can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

Thanks to sponsor support from the Kehila Society, Richmond Jewish Day School and the Vancouver Israeli Folkdance Society, tickets to A Musical Hug at Beth Tikvah April 2, 7 p.m., are only $10 each. As part of the event, Hadas Klinger will lead an Israeli dance session immediately following Shron’s presentation.

The event is for adults 19+ and registration is recommended, as space is limited. Visit tinyurl.com/28anpjab.

– Courtesy Beth Tikvah

Laugh, cheer, boo at panto

Steffanie Davis, who plays Belle, with a couple of the young actors in East Van Panto: Beauty and the Beast, at the York Theatre until Jan. 7. (photo by Emily Cooper, illustrations by Cindy Mochizuki)

Every year, the Cultch and Theatre Replacement’s annual panto, celebrating East Vancouver and poking fun at pop culture and local politics, seems to outdo itself. East Van Panto: Beauty and the Beast, which opened at York Theatre last week, is a rollicking good time that doesn’t sacrifice quality for fun. The text, music, sets, performance – everything is top-notch about this production that will have you cheering, booing, laughing, clapping … generally having a great time.

In the story by new-to-the-panto playwrights Jivesh Parasram and Christine Quintana, Belle, who dreams of studying business at the University of British Columbia so she can get the skills to bring wealth to her East Van neighbourhood, is captured by Beast, an arrogant young man from West Van who is turned into a mattress by Enchantress for his unbending attitude. The curse will not be lifted until this young man, who “won’t flip for nobody,” is able to change his mind – a prized ability in this production. Unfortunately, the curse extends to the staff and patrons of the Japanese food store into which the man had entered to buy some sushi. Transformed into such items as miso soup, soy sauce and various types of sushi, these innocents rely on Belle to save them – and herself – “before the last cherry blossom falls.”

Using physical humour and wittily riffing on pop songs like “Flower” by Miley Cyrus, “Kokomo” by the Beach Boys and “Sweet Dreams” by the Eurythmics, the panto cast is led by Steffanie Davis as Belle and Jason Sakaki as Beast, both strong actors with fantastic singing voices, funky moves and excellent comedic timing. The supporting cast is equally as skilled, and they are, in turn, supported by first-rate creative, design and production teams. Anita Rochon directs the show, and Veda Hille is composer and musical director. Jewish community member Mishelle Cuttler, as assistant musical director, alternates nights with Hille at the keyboard.

East Van Panto: Beauty and the Beast is an ode to community. In this iteration, it highlights two decades-old local businesses, Fujiya Japanese Foods and Mr. Mattress, which are located across the street from each other, at Venables Street and Clark Drive. A highlight of opening night was meeting several folks from Mr. Mattress, a long-time advertiser in the Jewish Independent.

The panto runs until Jan. 7 in-person and on-demand online Dec. 18-Jan. 7. For tickets, visit thecultch.com/event/east-van-panto.

From poems to songs

Loolwa Khazzoom (photo by Moriel O’Connor)

“Dear Hostages, as the world rallies to celebrate your desecration I will not forsake you,” begins the poem written by Seattle-based multimedia artist and educator Loolwa Khazzoom. Posted on her Facebook page, with a #BringThemHomeNow poster featuring photos of Israelis kidnapped on Oct. 7, it continues, “My instinct is to deprive myself of oxygen / Because you are underground / And I will not forget you // But I know that you would dance / In the sun / If given the chance / So I now rise up / And dance for you.”

Many of Khazzoom’s songs begin as poems. In this case, she told the Independent, “I felt as if I could not breathe and as if I did not even want to breathe, out of solidarity with the hostages and with all of Israel, in particular, all the victims of the Oct. 7 massacre. It’s like I wanted to physically feel their pain and suffering, as a way of physically demonstrating that I would not forsake them or forget them.”

In a traumatized mental state, Khazzoom returned to the “healing tools of poetry and music,” which was another way she could show her solidarity and do her part in keeping the issue of the hostages in front of people.

Similarly, Khazzoom and her band, Iraqis in Pajamas, recently released another poem-turned-song, “#MahsaAmini.” They did so this past Sept. 16, the first anniversary of the death of 22-year-old Mahsa Amini at the hands of Iranian “morality police.”

Finding out about Amini’s murder soon after it took place, from TikTok videos posted by Iranian women, Khazzoom “jumped into action.” She wrote to her political representatives, raised funds for United 4 Iran and reposted Iranian women’s videos on her feed constantly, to help boost the content’s views. “In addition,” she said, “a day after I found out about what happened, a poem with my feelings poured out of me, and I posted it on social media. Months later, I put that poem to a melody, and the band developed it into a full band song, which we released on the [anniversary of the] day of Amini’s murder.”

The death affected Khazzoom deeply for many reasons.

“First, the women in my family wore the abaya, the Iraqi equivalent of the hijab – Jewish women throughout the region were subject to Muslim dress codes, so it’s a Jewish issue, too,” she said. “Second, so many people assume that Islam is indigenous throughout the Middle East and North Africa, but it’s not. Arab Muslims rose up from the Arabian Peninsula and conquered the entire region, forcibly converting masses under the threat of death. So many indigenous ethnicities and religions predated the Muslim conquest, including Jews, Persians, Berbers and Kurds. The Iranian women protesting and burning their hijabs felt to me like challenging that Muslim conquest and awakening the ancient Persian warriors. Third, Persia is central to Jewish history and the origins of the Mizrahi community, dating back nearly three millennia ago…. And, lastly, the fire of these women, and the men who joined them, and their willingness to risk their lives for their dignity and freedom was just breathtaking and profoundly inspirational.”

Another of Iraqis in Pajamas’ releases this year was also intensely personal for Khazzoom.

“I wrote ‘The Convert’s Quest’ in response to some friends on social media sharing how hurt they were, coming under attack during the process of their conversion to Judaism. I had ample experience witnessing variations on this theme throughout my life – both first-person, seeing it happen to friends, and through my research as a Jewish multicultural educator. For decades, I felt very disturbed by this seemingly growing trend.

“I am the daughter of a Jew by choice, as my mother called herself, so the matter of conversion to Judaism is very personal for me,” she said. “I remember understanding very clearly as an Orthodox Jewish child that, according to halachah (Jewish law), once you convert, you are no longer to be called ‘a convert,’ but rather, a Jew, period. So, even from a religious Jewish perspective itself, I was very distraught by the ways that Jewish leaders and communities were rejecting or harassing converts, or even all-out forbidding people from converting. It all flies in the face of Jewish history, theology and practice.”

The band released “The Convert’s Quest” on May 24, on the harvest holiday of Shavuot, which celebrates the giving of the Torah to the Jewish people and on which the Book of Ruth is read. It tells the story of Ruth, a Moabite woman who converted to Judaism, whom Jewish tradition teaches will be the ancestor of the Messiah.

“To me, Jewish converts are the lifeblood of the Jewish people,” said Khazzoom. “I have a provocative line in my song, saying that converts are ‘the most Jewish Jews of all,’ because they are intentionally and consciously practising the foundational precepts of Judaism, which so many either take for granted or do rote, as is often the case in the Orthodox Jewish world where I was raised. In addition, amidst life-threatening levels of racism and violence against Jews, converts choose Judaism…. Why would we reject, in any way, from subtle to blatant, someone with such a heroic Jewish soul?”

Even when delivered in a playful manner, Khazzoom’s song are serious to the core. The campy “Kitchen Pirate,” for example, “emerged from my choice to reject the conventional option of surgery, in the wake of a cancer diagnosis in 2010,” she said. “Instead, I chose to radically alter my diet and lifestyle. Simply by overhauling my diet, I cold-stopped the growth of the nodules, which remained stable for the next five years – neither growing nor shrinking – until I returned to my lost-love of music, following which they began shrinking.”

Khazzoom said her songs “are always questioning, always challenging, always defiant. Sometimes, it’s more explicit, other times it’s embedded in silliness, which, parenthetically, I also see as defiant. I am and forever will be a curious, playful and awe-inspired child. I think that, if and when we ‘outgrow’ that, we die inside. And I refuse to capitulate to that norm of expected behaviour once we enter adulthood. By way of example, to this day, at age 54, when I am flying in a plane, if there is nobody sitting next to me, I will stretch out my arms and pretend I’m a bird, during takeoff.”

Not everyone has appreciated this aspect of her personality. “I have constantly gotten into trouble for it and have been at odds with my family, my community and society at large,” said Khazzoom. “I have endured terrible loneliness and often even self-doubt as a result. But I always come back to my core. And all of my songs emerge from that place – that raw, gut-wrenching place of being fiercely alive and allowing the clash with everything around me, and then writing about it.”

It is this enthusiasm that Victoria-based band member Mike Deeth enjoys about being in Iraqis in Pajamas, whose third member is Chris Belin.

“Loolwa and Chris are both easy-going, creative people. The energy is very positive, which makes collaborating with them fun and organic,” Deeth told the Independent. “Further, I appreciate the passion Loolwa has for the subject matter she writes about. One thing I always struggled with as a musician is ‘What do I have to say?’ At the end of the day, I’m a privileged guy who has never had to face oppression, hate, war or genocide. I have a lot of respect for artists who have experienced darker parts of humanity and have the courage to bring that perspective into their art.”

Born in Toronto, Deeth, who is not Jewish, spent most of his adolescence in Calgary, and moved to Vancouver Island when he was 18. He first picked up a guitar a few years earlier and has been playing ever since. “I was in my first band at 18 and played in bands throughout my 20s. For the past several years, I have been mainly focused on recording,” he said.

photo - Mike Deeth — Mike Deeth *(photo from Mike Deeth)*

Deeth got hooked on music production in his teens, getting his first digital recorder at age 16. “I still remember pulling all-nighters with friends trying to write songs and get ideas down on tape. Production was always fascinating to me, as I could layer parts together into something bigger than I could ever play on my own.”

Deeth and Khazzoom met a couple of years ago through a Craigslist posting. “She was looking for a guitarist to contribute to an early version of her track ‘The Convert’s Quest,’” he explained, complimenting Khazzoom on the fact that she “puts her full heart into her songs.”

“I recorded some initial guitar demos and, about a year later, we reconnected and worked up the current releases,” he said.

Deeth adds guitar to the songs and completes the mix and master of the songs when they are ready for those steps. Khazzoom sings, writes and plays bass, while Belin – who lives in Pennsylvania – composes the drum parts and performs them.

Among his other music ventures, Deeth has “played the guitar with Bryce Allan, a country musician here on the island, and recorded a few tracks with him. I also work closely with Jennie Tuttle, another musician from Victoria. We have been recording together for seven or eight years now.”

For Deeth, “recording is such an interesting combination of art and science. I get to be musically creative, but I also get to play with cool machines, solve problems and think about gain staging, compression ratios and other technical aspects. I thoroughly enjoy both the artistic and scientific parts of the process – they work my mind in different ways.

“I also love how each project starts as a blank canvas and ends with a new piece of music out in the world. There are an almost infinite number of possibilities when recording a track (all the possible settings on the equipment, the subtleties of different instruments) and it always fascinates me how each song takes shape during the process.”

“Mike has an exquisite sensitivity in his musical composition, performance and recording,” said Khazzoom. “He’s not only super-talented and -skilled, but he’s warm, upbeat, enthusiastic and professional. It’s a joy to create music with him. As is the case with our drummer Chris Belin, Mike has an uncanny ability to capture the essence of the songs I write, to the point that I feel he is playing back to me the sound of my soul. I have literally sat and cried after hearing the mixes.”

For more on Khazzoom, visit khazzoom.com. For more on Deeth’s production and sound services, visit glowingwires.com.

The first step is the to-do list

Yesterday, I shared my to-do list with a friend via email. She responded with “Ahh! I’m tired just reading this!” What I didn’t mention is that I had to do all this plus other chores, thrown in, which I had either forgotten to write down or were such household habits that I didn’t list them. For many caregivers who work and manage households, this sounds familiar. It’s the list that is the first step. Write it down. Name the obligation. Then release yourself from trying to remember it all. Finally, cross it off the list later.

This isn’t a new phenomenon. Studies have shown how much of this organizational and emotional labour falls to women. For example, a recent National Public Radio piece from the United States covered research by economists, which showed that women (mothers) were almost always contacted by schools first, no matter which parent was designated as the “first contact” on the emergency form. The social media chatter that followed remarked on how female medical residents or surgeons, working hours away from their children’s schools, were still called first even though the primary caretaker was the father. In the study itself, one economist described the mental load of planning ahead for “if the school called” and how women’s workload could be managed in such situations. She noted that, even though her husband was the vice-president of the Parent Teacher Association, the school always called her first.

In economic terms, women then self-select for lower paying, more flexible work simply to manage these challenges, resulting in lower income and fewer opportunities for career growth. Societal obligations placed mostly on women create a lifelong effect on earning power and household income.

This morning, as I bake bread, make chicken broth in two slow cookers, write this article and air out the house with fans because of an unexpected drop in temperatures due to a rainstorm, I time everything to fit into the hours between when I drop kids off at 9 a.m. and pick them up at noon for their half day of camp. This is, of course, not a specifically Jewish problem, but aspects of it are in our house.

We have twin 12-year-olds, with both kids doing b’nai mitzvah lessons at the same time. These kids come with different challenges. Like all learners, they may need different supports to master chanting trope. Amid the meltdown tears last night, it became clear that what was necessary was for each kid to have 15 minutes to practise separately every day with me. As the crying continued – and I include myself in the crying – my partner tried to help.

This is when you might wonder why all this falls to me, and you’d be right to ask. My partner told us that the year before his bar mitzvah involved a lot of crying. He was so overwhelmed that he quit playing drums at school, because he couldn’t manage both things. His mother had been given no Jewish education. She couldn’t read Hebrew and didn’t know the prayers. His father worked late every day, coming home at 11 p.m. My twins’ dad was truly on his own, with a cassette tape. He never learned the trope and struggled with short-term memory issues. Mastering his bar mitzvah portion took him a long time. As an adult, he never gained some of these prayer skills. A demanding job means now is not the time for him to catch up. The obligation’s all mine.

We’ve now been married for 25 years and I just learned last night about this tough path my husband took towards bar mitzvah. By comparison, I had supportive parents with some Jewish literacy, plus we attended services regularly. I was self-directed as a learner. Mastering everything for my bat mitzvah was interesting and challenging but not a struggle. I continued learning through university and graduate school and beyond, as I continue to study Talmud when I can. We chose a bilingual Hebrew/English elementary school for our kids partially because it would make bar mitzvah study easier for them.

Few people see what my lists of work and household obligations look like. I tell even fewer people about fitting in 20 minutes of Daf Yomi, a page of Talmud every day. When I mention the Talmud study, I’ve been asked why I bother. The minutiae of discussions of Jewish law that rabbis conducted so long ago is of no interest to most. Sometimes, if the person wants to know why, I explain that I learn things about Jewish tradition, history and daily life from these debates.

I also admit to myself that I find some reassurance in these pages. Although the specifics might have been different, life’s minutiae is pretty much the same. The rabbis struggled over multiple daily tasks, relationships and household concerns in many of the ways I do. They sweated the details, even if they didn’t do them all personally.

If everything works out, in June 2024, my kids will step up to the bimah (pulpit) and become bar mitzvah boys, which is a huge lifecycle event. Between now and then, practising with them will be another part of my to-do list. Good study habits mean you do a little every day until, suddenly, you learn something new. Just like my lists, nothing is insurmountable if you name it, take it step by step, and cross it off the list when the task is complete.

Like many women, I get bogged down by the minutiae. I wish I could share more of the household labour and emotional load. Even men who try to assume more of these tasks have to struggle against the societal expectations our culture wields. Step by step, we make change in our lives, our lists and our expectations for one another. It’s not a sprint. You can’t cram the night before to pass this exam. Life is a series of chores, moments, obligations and, well, joys.

Early this morning, I leashed up the dog while I sang the first Haftorah blessing aloud. I try to put the melody into the twins’ heads while donning my shoes and raincoat as I head out. Each step makes a difference to hopefully hit one very big milestone ahead.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for CBC Manitoba and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

Treatise on war, peace

Left to right: Tom Pickett, Advah Soudack, Kate Besworth and Karthik Kadam in Bard on the Beach’s production of Shakespeare’s Henry V, which runs to Aug. 13. (photo by Tim Matheson)

Bard on the Beach rarely presents Shakespeare’s history plays. The last time Vancouver audiences were treated to one of the House of Lancaster trilogies was in 2011. Like Julius Caesar, currently playing on the Mainstage, Henry V is a timely production, based on world events. Unlike Julius Caesar, which is set in modern times, director Lois Anderson has envisioned the setting for Henry V as an indeterminate time in a wartorn future.

In Henry V, there is a device Shakespeare often used – a play within a play. A traveling troupe of nine actors, seeking shelter from a raging storm, suitcases in hand, arrives in an apocalyptic time to present their version of Henry V. Their ultimate message: make love, not war.

When Henry IV died, his 16-year-old son, Prince Hal, ascended to the throne of England. His father had, on his deathbed, made it clear to his son that, to take on the crown responsibilities, he had to give up his profligate lifestyle and his association with the lower-class tavern set, including his mentor Falstaff. Once on the throne, and taking government matters seriously, Henry V is surrounded by ambitious advisors who encourage him to invade France as part of the ongoing Hundred Years War between the two countries. Reluctant at first, the arrival of an emissary at his court with a “gift” of tennis balls (analogous to a slap in the face) from the cocky French Prince, the Dauphin, convinces Henry to go to war.

On the battlefield, Henry comes of age, transitioning from an impressionable youth to a fierce leader of men. Although vastly outnumbered, the English are ultimately successful in the 1415 Battle of Agincourt, spurred on by Henry’s rousing now-iconic call to arms: “We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother.”

As part of the boy-to-man transition, Henry takes a hard line with his tavern pals, who have also joined the fight for king and country – condemning one to death for stealing a loaf of bread and eschewing the pleas for reconciliation from a dying Falstaff.

The audience is guided through the story by a narrator, the Chorus, who welcomes us to “the show” and provides numerous asides that give context and meaning to what is happening on stage, both in the action and in Henry’s mind (manifested by flashbacks to his carefree days of youth).

All the cast, save for the eponymous lead, play multiple roles and Anderson has chosen to always keep the actors on stage. When not involved in a scene, they sit off to the side. Costume changes take place right in front of the audience. The intimate Douglas Campbell Theatre allows for this up-close-and-personal action.

The women in this production are standouts. Jewish community member Advah Soudack not only acts, doing double-duty portraying Mistress Quickly (one of the tavern denizens) and the emissary Mountjoy, but also has a chance to show off her vocal skills with a haunting solo. Newcomer Marlee Griffiths is simply delightful as the French princess Katharine, especially as she practises English with her maid. Emilie Leclerc is both the narrator and French Queen Isabelle, and makes her Bard debut with a strong performance.

Kate Besworth plays Henry V in a gender reversal. Anderson’s vision encompasses the insecurity and angst of a teenager suddenly placed in charge of a country at war, who must make decisions with far-reaching consequences. Yet that same youth can be painfully shy when it comes to wooing, winning and wedding Princess Katherine (a strategic alliance that helps broker peace between the warring nations). Diminutive Besworth ably portrays these two sides of Henry’s character.

Among the male actors, Billy Marchenski is a tough Exeter; Craig Erickson, Henry IV; Tom Pickett, the King of France; and Karthik Kadam, the Dauphin. Munish Sharma gets to play with the role of portly Falstaff.

However, the real stars in this rendering are the designers. Kudos to all of them, starting with Jewish community member Amir Ofek in charge of the set design. In the program notes, he writes, “Director Lois Anderson and myself reimagined this production as an immersive audience experience that starts from the moment you enter the performance space.” He certainly accomplished this goal. When you step through the front tent flap, you are transported into a futuristic sepia-and-earth-tone world, chairs haphazardly stacked, looking like they are about to fall over (a metaphor for the chaos of the world), and an inner tent made of burlap sacks stitched together (scavenged from various local coffee shops), all atop a cracked, parched dirt floor. You really do feel like you are in a tent in the middle of a battlefield. The chairs are used to represent everything from beds to thrones to canons to barricades to weapons.

Mara Gottler’s costumes reflect the “anytime and no time” design mandate she was given and lend themselves to the quick on-stage changes. She wanted to “convey a visual narrative of war and love,” and accomplishes this with different colour palettes for the French and English courts and the tavern gang. Sophie Tang’s lighting, together with Joelysa Pankanea’s musical score, complete the effect. Original songs for the troupe add a novel layer to the production and choreographer/fight director Jonathan Hawley Purvis deserves a mention for the clever battle scenes.

Anderson’s vision is certainly a treatise on the evils – and inevitability – of war, yet still holds out a glimmer of hope for redemption through love.

Henry V runs until Aug. 13. For tickets, visit bardonthebeach.org or call the box office, 604-739-0559.

Tova Kornfeld is a Vancouver freelance writer and lawyer.

A hippie homesteader in B.C.

“When I came to Galena Bay, I had been afraid of many things,” writes Ellen Schwartz in Galena Bay Odyssey: Reflections on a Hippie Homesteader (Heritage House Publishing Company, 2023). “Of the physical work I would have to do. Of trying new things I have never done before, like gardening and building and raising animals. Of living in isolation. One by one, I had attempted these things, and I had survived. I had even mastered some of them. Those fears had fallen away.”

This paragraph comes as Schwartz is atop a hill, “too scared to move,” and her skis start sliding. She survives the “ungraceful and disastrous” run, even pushes through a second one. But she can’t keep her vow to never to do that again because, in the 1970s, she lived in such a far-flung place that skiing was a necessary mode of transportation, not just a leisure activity.

It is easy to see why Schwartz chose to write a memoir about this period of her life. Born into a middle-class family – her father an internist-turned-cardiologist, her mother a teacher before becoming a stay-at-home mom to Schwartz, her younger sister and brother – and raised in New Jersey, Schwartz went to university in Chicago. There, she did all you might expect a young person with the new freedom of being on their own to do. And then some, as it was the late 1960s. She writes openly about her experiences with drugs and having sex for the first time: “I figured Ned was The One. I imagined that we’d go through our four years [at school] together and eventually marry.” That didn’t happen. Nor did Schwartz go on to lead the conventional life she imagined for herself at the time.

Instead, she went to join a close friend at a farming commune in Pennsylvania, the members of which ultimately wanted to move to British Columbia. Not intending to stay longer than summer break, Schwartz fell in love with one of the commune’s founders and, well, ended up in British Columbia with Bill, who would become her husband. The group didn’t last long, but the Schwartzes are still together, though no longer in Galena Bay, which is in the West Kootenays. They now live in Burnaby.

The young urban-raised couple faced many challenges homesteading, and Schwartz has many stories of taking on the unknown, whether it be camping along the route across the continent to British Columbia, building their own cabin (including chopping down their own trees), growing their own food, raising a child in a remote area (their second would be born in Vancouver), etc., etc. Not to mention finding work that would sustain them physically (keep them housed, clothed and fed), if not spiritually. She shares the details of her hippie days matter-of-factly, with humour and with the perspective of reflection. For example, after recounting her parents’ muted reaction to her and Bill’s homemade home, she offers potential reasons for their lack of enthusiasm.

Schwartz’s unique history encapsulates the overarching idealism of many in her generation. Her grandparents were “impoverished Jewish immigrants who had fled the hardships and pogroms of Lithuania and Poland” to give their kids a better life in the United States, so their grandchildren also were well set up for material success. The grandchildren – Schwartz and her peers – had an idea but no real understanding of the sacrifices that had been made to achieve the comfortable lifestyle they rejected, because of the racial and social inequality they saw around them, the environmental degradation and the war in Vietnam.

“Bill and I, part of the first wave of baby boomers, were in the privileged position of having enough education, enough wealth and enough leisure to be able to criticize our parents’ lifestyle,” she writes late in the memoir. “We were well-off enough to be able to turn our backs on materialism. We were prosperous enough to indulge in idealism and, idealistically, to define an entire new set of values. (At the time, I didn’t appreciate the irony.)”

But her desire to make the world a better place was – and is – genuine and remains a guiding force. Schwartz, who was a teacher for many years, began her subsequent career writing educational material. We find out in her memoir that the first fiction story she sold was released in 1980. She is now a celebrated children’s author, with almost 20 books to her credit directed towards younger readers, ranging from picture books to novels for teens to a couple of non-fiction publications. She is also a freelance writer and editor.

Galena Bay Odyssey is a wonderful glimpse into an integral part of Schwartz’s life. It also offers insight into North American hippie culture and the strength and ingenuity required to live in an out-of-the-way place like Galena Bay. That the “action” takes place in British Columbia will make the memoir of even more interest to local readers.

JI wins four Rockowers

Adina Horwich at the 42nd annual Rockowers Awards. She received an honourable mention for journalistic excellence in covering Zionism, aliyah and Israel. (photo from Adina Horwich)

The Jewish Independent won four Simon Rockower Awards for Excellence in Jewish Journalism this year. The awards, which are given out by the American Jewish Press Association, were for work done in 2022. The JI has had a few Rockower hat tricks in its history, but this is the first time the paper has garnered four honours in one year.

The awards were presented on July 11 at the Higgins Hotel and Conference Centre in New Orleans, La., where the AJPA’s annual conference was held. The JI mainly competed in the division of weekly and biweekly newspapers, but there were some categories for which the competition was between all types of media (print and online); awards were given for first and second place, and sometimes honourable mention.

Writer Adina Horwich traveled from her home in Israel to New Orleans to receive her award in person. She won the JI an honourable mention for journalistic excellence in covering Zionism, aliyah and Israel for her article “Immigration challenges” (jewishindependent.ca/immigration-challenges-2). The piece both reviews Adi Barokas’s Hebrew-language graphic novel, The Journey to the Best Place on Earth (and Back), about Barokas’s experience trying to immigrate to Vancouver from Israel, and shares Horwich’s experience making aliyah from Canada. The jury commented: “Extremely readable story, that skilfully explores from a personal perspective the nitty gritty of making aliyah.”

The JI’s Pat Johnson also received an honourable mention – his article “Oasis in the Caucasus” (jewishindependent.ca/oasis-in-the-caucasus) garnered recognition for excellence in writing about Jewish heritage and Jewish peoplehood in Europe. The jury said about his piece:

“A terrific look into the Jewish community of Azerbaijan that most of us, unfortunately, don’t have on our ‘Must-Go Places to Visit.’ Pat Johnson’s very nice story strongly suggests otherwise. Johnson paints a wonderful picture of this tucked-away ‘shtetl’ where the residents say they have never faced antisemitism. If only we could feel so lucky here in the United States! And while most of us do well playing ‘Jewish geography,’ actual world geography is often more of a challenge. Having Johnson admit having to Google Azerbaijan before traveling there to report this story added a nice touch that connects with readers who may also be unfamiliar with the country – but now more knowledgeable thanks to this feature.”

Johnson was recognized for another of his articles, “Maus not too graphic” (jewishindependent.ca/maus-not-too-graphic), which placed second for excellence in education reporting. Johnson sat in on Anna-Mae Wiesenthal’s Holocaust and Genocide Studies class at King David High School, and listened as students discussed the graphic memoir Maus by Art Spiegelman.

“Lots of people laughed when a Tennessee school board pulled Maus from the curriculum because of the drawing of a naked cat. That was too much for board members and they banished the Pulitzer Prize-winning graphic novel,” wrote the Rockower jury. “Viewing the book through the eyes of five students at a Jewish high school subtly portrays the board decision’s absurdity.”

Rounding out the JI wins was a first place for excellence in editorial writing – where all entries competed in the same division. The JI editorial board of Johnson, Basya Laye and me were honoured for the set of editorials that included “Every person has a voice” (about Elon Musk, hatred and misinformation online, and how people can counter such forces), “Extremism not helpful” (about New Democratic Party leader Jagmeet Singh’s views on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict) and “New era in U.S. politics” (about the U.S. Supreme Court’s rejection of a woman’s right to reproductive self-determination, as well as the Jewish perspective on abortion).

About these editorials the Rockower jury wrote: “These pieces are good examples of what editorials should be – thoughtful examination of pressing issues, using clear reasoning in looking at both sides, then coming to a well-reasoned conclusion. Local tie-ins strengthen opinions.”

All of us at the JI appreciate the AJPA’s recognition of the hard work that goes into producing an independent Jewish newspaper, magazine or website, and we congratulate all of our colleagues on their achievements. For the full list of Rockower winners, visit ajpa.org.

The JI couldn’t do what we do without our subscribers, donors and advertisers – thank you for all your support. For readers who are thinking about subscribing, donating or advertising, please consider doing so to help us continue producing a high-quality, independent Jewish newspaper that connects community members from across the religious and political spectrums; covers lifecycle events and local, national and international news; and documents our community history as it happens. Visit jewishindependent.ca/support-the-ji, email [email protected] or call 604-689-1520.

Who decides what culture is?

Mourad Bouayad, left, and Hillel Kogan in We Love Arabs, which is at the Dance Centre April 13-15. (photo by Eli Katz)

“I don’t have answers so I can only ask questions,” Israeli choreographer Hillel Kogan told the Jewish Independent. “If this is changing people’s political views, I doubt it, but at least what I’m trying to do is to put the questions on the table and make people, audiences, and myself see that art is not a separate sphere, that art is part of politics and social and cultural systems … and this is what I’m trying to expose in my pieces.”

The JI interviewed Kogan in advance of the Vancouver run of We Love Arabs, which is being presented at the Scotiabank Dance Centre by the Dance Centre and Théâtre la Seizième April 13-15. There will be both English- and French-language performances of this work, which also has Hebrew and Spanish versions. Kogan will dance the duet here with Mourad Bouayad.

We Love Arabs premièred at the 2013 Intimadance Festival in Tel Aviv. The brief outline for the piece, which Kogan has on his website, begins: “I address the audience, my name is Hillel Kogan. Some say that I do political art. I want to show you today how dance has the power to promote coexistence between Arabs and Jews in Israel. I invited an Arab dancer here….” The video teaser offers a glimpse of Kogan’s physicality, humour, tenderness, intelligence.

Born in Tel Aviv, Kogan has performed with and created for companies and choreographers around the world. At Batsheva Dance Company, he is director of educational programs. He is pursuing a master’s degree in cultural studies.

We Love Arabs garnered awards, and it has traveled to more than a dozen countries. The Vancouver show was postponed twice, said Mirna Zagar, executive director of the Dance Centre. First due to a scheduling conflict and then due to COVID. “However, I believe the work is just as relevant now as it was when we started,” she said. “It is an exceptional work that continues to engage audiences internationally.”

The Dance Centre often partners with other arts organizations, as a means of pooling resources and amplifying opportunities to show international artists. “This collaboration is along these lines,” she said. “I have known Esther Duquette, the now-outgoing artistic director at Théâtre la Seizième, for some years and the nature of this piece – multilingual and straddling theatre as well as dance – made it a perfect opportunity for our organizations to work together.”

The April 14 performance and talkback will be in French; the other two shows and the April 15 talkback in English. Kogan speaks six languages: Hebrew and Russian because his parents were born in the Soviet Union and he was born in Israel; he studied English in school; he learned French from working two years in Switzerland, and Portuguese and Spanish from working in Portugal for seven years. He doesn’t speak Arabic.

“This is interesting,” he said, “because this piece, We Love Arabs, is an autocritical peace that asks exactly this. Why am I facing the languages and cultures of the West and not the languages of my neighbours and of my co-citizens in Israel? Why don’t I read the books of Arabic writers? Why doesn’t Arab culture interest me, and why do I identify myself as ‘Western,’ which is a bit strange?”

It is both a geographic question, he said, living as he does in Israel, and a social, historical, cultural and political question. “And the piece deals with this question: who decides what the general culture is, and why I am – and why the Israeli art field, at least as I see it, is – so orientalist, which means looking at the Orient, at the Arab as inferior and wanting to impose on it the Western culture.”

The different versions of We Love Arabs resulted from Kogan’s wanting to perform the piece abroad, in the language the audience speaks. “I think it brings more this idea of relevance to the space,” he explained. “If I did the piece in Hebrew with subtitles, it would be more like a piece from Israel … and be framed as something local and in my perspective. The universality of the piece is one of the ideas – I want people to identify with it and, by choosing their own language, I feel there is more chance to make them sense that they are part of it as well.”

Kogan had no idea of how much impact We Love Arabs would have. “It was created for a small niche festival in Israel,” he said, and “for a specific audience who is already convinced in the political opinions that I hold. So, I didn’t imagine it ‘big.’… As I performed the piece out of Israel, I understood that the question of Jews and Arabs in Israel is just a microcosm of a more universal question: of the situation of power between minority and majority, and the way we see ‘the other’ – who is the master of the culture in any nation?”

In looking at the question, Kogan asks: “Who is invited to participate in creating a national identity, what is Israeli or what is Arab Israeli? It is not very different than the question of, I don’t know, for example, in Canada: who is invited, what is Canadian? Is it French? Is it American? Is it English? I don’t know the minority situation in Canada, but I know there is a history with Native Canadians. So, are they also invited to take part in culture? How much are they participating in mainstream dance, literature, music? How do we define what is high art and what is popular art? What is folk and folklore? And what is universal art?”

Initially dancing the duet with Kogan was Adi Boutrous, an Israeli Arab dancer who is also a choreographer and so not always available. Bouayad, who is French, danced in Israel in the Batsheva junior company. “This is how we met, so I invited him to perform with me,” said Kogan. “And, of course, it’s very different for an Israeli Arab to play the role of an Israeli Arab than for a French half-Arab person, because to be an Arab in France is different than to be an Arab in Israel.”

Not wanting to speak for Bouayad, Kogan noted that, while Bouayad may define “himself first as French, and his relationship with his Arab origins are just an extra part of his being,” for Israeli Arabs, he said, “I’m not sure that they are first Israeli and then Arab because of their own perception of themselves – but also the way the majority looks at them, the state looks at them, society looks at them, Jewish society looks at them.

“We often make the mistake even in the language, and we forget to say that Arabs are Israeli as well. We say Israelis and Arabs – even when we refer to Arabs who are citizens of Israel and who hold an Israeli passport, we call them Arabs, and we call ourselves, the Jews, Israelis…. We are both Israeli and the difference between us in definition is our religion. In a country like France, where it’s a republic and religion has at least formally not such an important role in the definition of citizenship and of nationality, then, of course, the change of cast is also changing the relationship.”

Kogan has no illusions that art can change the world. Elected politicians “are the ones who should change the world,” he said. For him, art is there to reflect, to inspire. “Art, for me, is a place for the imagination, for the possibility of not necessarily escaping reality, but giving an alternative to reality…. If art can feed the imagination and then, as an outcome of this feeding of imagination, can change the reality, OK, that’s great. But I think that … when artists try to change the world by their art – in history, at least as far as I see, it ends in political propaganda and just serves the hands of politicians.”

As many funny moments as there are in We Love Arabs, they have a profound purpose.

“I have anger towards some of the cultural systems, and the questions that I’m asking are involved with hard emotions. I feel that humour allows me to take some distance from the aggression and from being so emotionally involved,” said Kogan. “It allows me to laugh about myself as well. It allows me to invite people to laugh about a question without making it not serious. The laughing, I feel, is a tool to invite people to enter a conversation, to agree to criticize, to agree to ask questions … to see the bias, to be aware of the stereotypes, to be aware of the prejudgments that we have…. The laughter is just a means in order to speak about something very serious.”

For tickets to We Love Arabs, call 604-736-2616 or visit thedancecentre.ca.

Beauty amid turbulent times

Israeli journalist Yair Cherki (photo from Facebook)

Bravo Yair Cherki, the popular, ultra-Orthodox TV news reporter. He recently came out as gay in a wonderful social media post. In part, he said: “I write these words shaking, postponing to tomorrow. For next week. For after the holidays. Maybe it’s been 10 years since I’ve been writing and erasing…. And I write not because I have the strength to write but because I have no power to stay silent. I love men. I love G-d. It is not contradictory….”

His confession continues, “I live the conflict between my secular preference and my faith all the time. Some have solved the conflict for themselves by saying that there is no G-d, while others explain that there is no homosexuality. I know both exist. And I try to reconcile this contradiction within myself in various ways. These are things between G-d and me…. This is neither a fashion nor a trend nor a political statement. It is simply me….”

An intimate and intelligent statement.

* * *

Now, if this doesn’t take “blaming the Jews” to new extremes. In my previous article in the JI (jewishindependent.ca/land-of-milk-honey) I praised the historic maritime natural gas agreement between Israel and Lebanon, enabling both countries to drill for natural gas within their own territory. I truly wished Lebanon much success in hitting a gusher and creating their own Sovereign Wealth Fund.

Hezbollah’s leader Hassan Nasrallah sees it a bit differently, warning that any delay in Lebanon’s extracting gas from its own waters will be met by a punishing attack on Israel’s adjacent gas fields. Maybe Robert Frost’s poem “Mending Wall” will assuage Nasrallah: “I let my neighbour know beyond the hill…. And set the wall between us once again…. To each the boulders that have fallen to each…. He only says, ‘Good fences make good neighbours.’”

Nasrallah went on to threaten that if the United States continues spreading chaos within Lebanon – some conspiracy theory or other – that Israel will pay. Reminiscent of the Three Stooges slapstick routine when Curly slaps Larry for Moe slapping him.

Peace and prosperity for all, on both sides of the Fatima Gate. Otherwise known as the Good Fence!

* * *

Going once. Going twice. Do I hear $50 million? According to its website, “Sotheby’s is proud to offer … the earliest, most complete Hebrew Bible during this year’s marquee New York sales auction.”

The Codex Sassoon is more than 1,000 years old. According to Sharon Mintz, Sotheby’s senior Judaica specialist, in an interview with CNN, “this is the most important document to come to auction ever.” It’s expected to generate huge interest across the world from the wealthiest of bidders, with offers expected to reach as high as $50 million.

Other treasured documents fetching such modest amounts at auction include the Codex Leicester by Leonardo da Vinci (ostensibly his science diary) sold to Bill Gates in 1994 for about $31 million. And the first printing of the U.S. Constitution, bought by American hedge fund manager Kenneth Griffin in 2021 for about $43 million.

May 16 … save the date. And your shekels!

* * *

A few weekends ago, my wife and I drove south for the day to enjoy the year’s winter festival, Darom Adom, when the bright red poppies – a protected flower in Israel – come out in full bloom along the Gaza periphery. It’s another reason to celebrate with local handicrafts, seasonal fruit, local cheeses and wine, homemade Israeli cuisine.

Taking place not too far from Sderot, within the opened gates of local kibbutzim and moshavim (agricultural communities) and less than a kilometre from another good fence delineating the border between Israel and Gaza, the festival a testament to Israeli’s resilience – and longing for a peaceful coexistence.

Somewhat poetically, we purchased a beautifully handcrafted hamsa made by a young, local artist. This hand-shaped amulet is used for protection by both Jews and Muslims. In the Jewish faith, the five fingers of the hamsa represent the Five Books of Moses, or the Torah. The Muslim faith sees a hamsa as representing the Five Pillars of Islam (declaration of faith, prayer, alms, fasting, pilgrimage). In popular culture, the charm represents the five senses (sight, sound, smell, touch, taste).

* * *

Judicial reform. Judicial reform. Judicial reform. Sounds like Jan Brady whining about her sister getting all the attention, “Marcia. Marcia. Marcia,” from the 1970s sitcom The Brady Bunch. Judicial reform certainly has been getting all the attention lately.

Issues aside, we’ve had 10 weeks and counting of protests, with several hundred thousand Israelis protesting around the country every Saturday night against judicial reform. The protests are also aimed at the extreme, right-wing – even theocratic – makeup of the current coalition that is driving headstrong into judicial reform. And yet, the primarily secular, centre-left who comprise these thousands, waving Israeli flags and ending every protest with the singing of Hatikvah, respectfully wait until after Shabbat to begin their protests. How’s that for deep-bred regard for this Jewish tradition that crosses sociopolitical lines?

* * *

Bravo again to Yair Cherki. To come out in these turbulent, sociopolitical times for the Israeli LGBTQ+ community. With our far-right, xenophobic, theocratic and anti-LGBTQ+ government, Cherki’s post and testament to himself is nothing short of brave, beautiful and brilliant.

Bruce Brown is a Canadian and an Israeli. He made aliyah … a long time ago. He works in Israel’s high-tech sector by day and, in spurts, is a somewhat inspired writer by night. Brown is the winner of the 2019 AJPA Rockower Award for excellence in writing, and wrote the 1998 satire An Israeli is…. Brown reflects on life in Israel – political, social, economic and personal.