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Rabbis, teachers, survivors: 18 Jews whose deaths diminished our communities in 2022

(JTA) — All year long, the Jewish Telegraphic Agency reports about the deaths of Jewish newsmakers in our community. To close out the year, we wanted to turn our attention to people who may not have been such household names but whose stories deserve to be remembered.

Here, with the help of readers who shared the names of people they are remembering, we recall 18 Jews who shaped their local communities and made a difference in the lives of those close to them. They include rabbis whose impact extended for decades, teachers who inspired generations of students and activists who were working to build a better world. May their memories be a blessing.

Harriet Bograd

A champion of emerging Jewish communities in far-flung places.

Harriet Bograd, center, her husband Ken Klein, left, and daughter Margie on a visit to the Sefwi Wiawso Jewish community in Ghana in an undated photo. (Courtesy Kulanu, Inc)

Harriet Bograd, who as president of the nonprofit Kulanu supported emerging Jewish communities in Africa, Asia and other places far beyond the usual centers of Jewish life, died on Sept. 17 in a Manhattan hospital. She was 79. A Yale-educated lawyer and a stalwart at the West End Synagogue, she was inspired by a visit in 2004 to a remote village in Ghana, where about two dozen families considered themselves Jewish. In the years to come, she and Kulanu would provide support to emerging Jewish communities in Uganda, Tanzania, Nigeria, Cameroon, Madagascar, Indonesia, Pakistan, Guatemala, the Philippines and more. She once said of her work at Kulanu, “after the Holocaust and the decimation of Jewish communities in Arab lands, the idea [is] that we’re establishing Jewish communities that have their own richness and variety.”

Henry Berg-Brousseau

Transgender activist from Kentucky

Henry Berg-Brousseau (Courtesy Human Rights Campaign)

Henry Berg-Brousseau grew up in Louisville, Kentucky, and studied history, political science and Jewish studies at George Washington University, where he was a founding member of an LGBTQ+ fraternity. He had recently gotten a major promotion at the Human Rights Campaign when he died by suicide in his Arlington, Virginia, home, on Dec. 16 at age 24. “Henry spent his life working to extend grace, compassion and understanding to everyone but especially to the vulnerable and marginalized. This grace, compassion and understanding was not always returned to him,” his mother, the Kentucky state legislator Karen Berg, wrote in a statement that criticized lawmakers who advance anti-LGBTQ views. She added, “He was doing work that was important to him to make the world a more accepting place. At 24 years old. he had finally found a community but that could not undo the brokenness that he already felt.”

Rabbi Simcha Krauss

Orthodox advocate for women’s rights

Rabbi Simcha Krauss speaks at a dinner hosted by Yeshivat Eretz HaTzvi in his honor on Feb. 5, 2014. (Courtesy Yeshivat Eretz HaTzvi)

Rabbi Simcha Krauss, a leading figure of Modern Orthodox Judaism who was a forceful advocate for women’s rights within Orthodoxy, died Jan. 20 at 85. Krauss’s efforts, which included creating a rabbinical court to support “agunot” — women whose husbands refused to divorce them — frequently earned him scorn from traditionalists within Orthodoxy. But many others saw him as a “gentle giant” who wielded his years of study and experience to fight for women’s rights in Jewish law. Krauss was born in Romania and came to the United States in 1948. Coming from a long line of rabbis, Krauss studied at Yeshiva Rabbi Chaim Berlin in Brooklyn, and later studied with the Modern Orthodox luminary Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik. Krauss led the Young Israel of Hillcrest for 25 years. During his years in Queens, Krauss taught Talmud at Yeshiva University and began to get more involved in issues related to the role of women in Orthodoxy. He moved to Israel in 2005, and in 2014 came back to New York to found the International Beit Din, or religious court, to work on agunot cases. “Some say it is a modern revolution,” he told the Jerusalem Post. “I say that’s the way you should do it.”

Rabbi David Weiss Halivni

A survivor and scholar who teased out the many voices of the Talmud

Survivor and Talmud scholar Rabbi David Weiss Halivni was associated with Columbia University for 35 years. (Chaim Meyersdorf/Wikimedia Commons)

Rabbi David Weiss Halivni, the Talmud scholar and Columbia University professor, died June 29 at age 94. A Holocaust survivor and refugee raised in Sighet, Romania, he earned his doctorate and taught for many years at the Conservative movement’s Jewish Theological Seminary in New York, until leaving the institution in 1983 over its decision to ordain women rabbis. He later became dean of the rabbinical school of the Union for Traditional Judaism, a movement created by rabbis and scholars who similarly broke with the Conservative movement. In works like his multi-volume opus “Mekorot u’Mesorot,” or “Sources and Traditions,” he galvanized the world of Talmud study by treating Jewish text as a living, mutable conversation across generations, as opposed to a static document. Halivni’s approach to learning was the “corollary to loving the text so much that you just had to understand it to its fullest, whatever tools would enable you to do so,” wrote Rabbi Ethan Tucker in an appreciation.

Moris Albahari

A remnant of a Ladino-speaking past

Moris Albahari, shown in a documentary about his story called “Saved by Language,” was a pillar of Sarajevo’s Jewish community. (Courtesy of Brian Kirschen)

Moris Albahari was 11 when the Ustaša, Bosnia’s Nazi collaborator force, came to deport him and his large family to Jasenovac, the country’s equivalent of Auschwitz. A former teacher working as an Ustaša guard in the town of Drvar, where the train stopped, warned Albahari’s father, David, about their destination, and David was able to help his son escape from the train. Because Moris knew Ladino, the Jewish language that is mixture of medieval Spanish, Hebrew, Aramaic, Turkish and other languages, he was able to speak with the Italian soldier who saved him. Ladino would save him several more times before the end of the war, but afterwards, with most of Sarajevo’s Jews dead or forever dispersed, he spoke the language largely at home. At one point the director of Sarajevo’s airport, Albahari was a leader within Bosnia’s Jewish community. “It is a terrible loss, especially for Sarajevok,” said Eliezer Papo, a Sarajevo-born Jew and scholar of Ladino in Israel. “We’re not speaking just in terms of prominent members of the community, we’re speaking in terms of family members.”

Rachel Brodie

A “master Jewish educator” whose influence was vast

Rachel Brodie (Courtesy of J. The Jewish News of Northern California)

Rachel Brodie was unassuming and humble yet through her work as an educator had a vast influence on the Jewish community in the Bay Area of California, where she lived, and beyond. Brodie was the co-founder Jewish Milestones, an educational resource for Jewish lifecycle ceremonies that launched in 2004 as The Ritualist. She also served as “chief Jewish officer” at the Jewish community Center of San Francisco, a position created just for her, from 2011 to 2016. “To be in Rachel’s presence was to be illuminated by her wit, her laughter, and her fierce and tender heart,” wrote the founders of the Jewish Studio Project in Berkeley, where she had been a senior educator. “To learn with her was to be stimulated, delighted, and transformed.” Brodie, 55, died on April 11 after falling at her home in Berkeley.

Rabbi Steven Sager

“Leader, mentor, poet” in North Carolina and beyond

Rabbi Steven Sager at Beth El Synagogue in Durham, North Carolina, in 2017. (Courtesy Anna Carson DeWitt)

When Rabbi Steven Sager died May 15 at 71 after an extended battle with pancreatic cancer, he was mourned not only by his family and his congregants at Beth El Synagogue in Durham, North Carolina, from which he retired in 2011 after 32 years, but by a rabbinic and Hebrew poetry community spanning the globe. “Steve was a beautiful and deep human being,” the Israeli poet Rivka Miriam wrote. “I generally do not believe in translation, especially translation of poetry. It seems to me that every language has an inner secret that cannot be transposed into another vessel. Yet, when Steve translated my poems I had a different feeling — I felt he entered an inner layer, one that lies beneath any language, a layer carrying a hidden code.”

Nate Geller

Devoted to building stronger Jewish communities

Nate Geller, at his home in Teaneck, New Jersey. A colleague’s daughter made the “Nate” sign, which he took home and hung on his mantel. (Courtesy)

Nate Geller died on Jan. 24 at age 63, after a struggle with leukemia that he faced with characteristic humility, faith and optimism. His death was a blow to his colleagues at 70 Faces Media (JTA’s parent company); to his synagogue community in Teaneck, New Jersey; and to the Jewish communal world to which he had dedicated his life since graduating from the Hornstein Program in Jewish Communal Service at Brandeis University in 1983. In the hours after his death, chat rooms and email boxes filled up with loving tributes to Nate, remarkable for their consistency: Friends and colleagues remarked on his gentleness, his passion for Jewish learning, his commitment to Israel, his willingness not just to hear but to listen when a colleague kvelled or kvetched. Most of all, they remembered his devotion to his family: his wife Lyn Light Geller, herself a gentle and passionate force among “Jewish professionals,” his grown children Aliza, Ariana and Koby, Koby’s wife Talia, and their kids, Annaelle and Judah. Said one colleague and fellow congregant, “There is an enormous Nate-shaped void in the world now.”

Hedi Fried

A voice for Holocaust remembrance in Sweden

Holocaust survivor Hedi Fried stands between Sweden’s culture minister and handball player Linnea Claeson during a counterprotest against a neo-Nazi demonstration in Stockholm, Aug. 25, 2018. (Pontus Lundahl/AFP via Getty Images)

Born in 1924 in Sighet, in what was then Hungary and is now Romania, Hedi Fried survived Auschwitz and settled in Sweden, where she became a psychologist and advocate for Holocaust survivors. She created Cafe 84, a salon for survivors in Stockholm, and spoke widely about her experiences during the Holocaust, gathering some of the most common exchanges in “Questions I Am Asked About the Holocaust,” published in English in 2019. “Your solidarity was boundless and no question too difficult to answer. You were brave, generous, dedicated and extremely wise,” Christina Gamstorp, the director of Stockholm’s Jewish museum, wrote in a remembrance. “Now your voice has fallen silent but not your message. It lives on in everyone who met you, in your texts, books, films and your belief that man is still good — and that it is possible to build a society free from antisemitism and racism, which threaten our entire existence.” Fried, who had three children, died in November at 98.

Rabbi Sy Dresner

The “most arrested rabbi in America

Rabbi Martin Freedman, right, and Rabbi Israel Dresner,center, are taken to the Tallahassee city building where they were charged with unlawful assembly after they and 10 other “Freedom Riders” were arrested attempting to eat at the Tallahassee airport in June 1961. (Getty Photos)

Rabbi Israel “Sy” Dresner, who demonstrated with Martin Luther King Jr. and was sometimes called the “most arrested rabbi in America,” died Jan. 13. He was 92. A Freedom Rider in the 1960s, Dresner built a career as a social justice-oriented Reform rabbi who was active in the fight against the Vietnam War and was a vocal opponent of Israel’s occupation of the West Bank. Dresner was born on the Lower East Side in 1929 to an Orthodox family and grew up in Brooklyn, where his father ran a delicatessen. He attended yeshivas as a child but went on to become a Reform rabbi after serving in the Korean War and working on a kibbutz in Israel. “We came as Jews who remember the millions of faceless people who stood quietly, watching the smoke rise from Hitler’s crematoria,” he said after an arrest in 1964 outside a segregated motel in St. Augustine, Florida. “We came because we know that, second only to silence, the greatest danger to man is loss of faith in man’s capacity to act.”

Eli Evans

‘Poet laureate of Southern Jews’

Eli Evans, seen here in a picture from a trip to Israel in the 1970s, was “equally at home in New York.” (Courtesy Josh Evans)

Born in 1936 in Durham, North Carolina, where his father would become the first Jewish mayor and his mother the founder of Hadassah’s first chapter in the South, Eli Evans remained tied to his native home despite spending his adult life in New York City, where he was a prominent grant-maker whose giving fueled the creation of “Sesame Street” in both the United States and Israel. He wrote several memoirs about Southern Jews and also included the South in his philanthropy, which he pursued at multiple foundations according to an activist philosophy that helped launch the Children’s Defense Fund, seeded the South with Black lawyers who became local civil rights leaders and built ties between Israeli and Egyptian scientists after their countries made peace in 1979. “Eli was a Southern gentleman who interacted with the Jewish establishment and strengthened American Jewish life, without losing his Southern Jewish soul,” said Brandeis University professor of American Jewish history Jonathan Sarna. “It was a privilege to have known him.” Evans died July 26 in Manhattan of complications of COVID-19, after a period of declining health.

Sheryl Grossman

A lifelong advocate for people with disabilities

Sheryl Grossman was a Jewish disability activist. (Screenshot from 2021 JDAIM Interview Series at Towson University)

Sheryl Grossman stood small, at just 4’3″ and 48 pounds, but in the world of Jewish disability advocacy she loomed large, as both the founder of a Facebook group for people living with Bloom’s Syndrome and as a board member of Yad Hachazakah, the Jewish Disability Empowerment Center. She died March 28 at age 46, the result of a Bloom’s Syndrome-linked cancer. “I don’t think anyone will ever know just how much work Sheryl did during the pandemic to help Jewish communities support their most vulnerable neighbors who were in the hospital or isolated at home with COVID,” said Shoshana Finkel, a law student who met Grossman when she was an intern at the American Association of People with Disabilities. “She didn’t feel the need to share her accomplishments; that was never what the work was about for her.”

Dara Goldman

A professor of Spanish and Jewish studies in her prime

Dara Goldman was a professor of Spanish and Jewish studies at the University of Illinois. (Courtesy U of I)

Dara Goldman was preparing for graduation at the University of Illinois, where she was a professor of Spanish and chair of the Program in Jewish Culture and Society, and for the American Jewish Historical Society conference, when she died May 13 of a heart attack. She was 51. A graduate of Columbia and Emory universities, Goldman produced scholarship so diverse that she was affiliated with eight units within the University of Illinois; most recently, she was researching Jewish cultural production in Cuba, where she brought resources for the Jewish community during her research trips, and co-edited a volume on 21st-century Jewish writing. “With her characteristic wit, she would often joke that she was a Jewish woman who took a wrong turn at diaspora,” said a remembrance published by the university. “But jokes aside, she could be at the same time a Jewish woman from New Jersey and an adopted daughter of Puerto Rico and Cuba, two cultures that she knew intimately and loved very deeply. … The echoes of her inimitable, hearty laughter will resonate within our halls for a long time.”

Yaakov Shalev

A beloved family man whose story was Israel’s

Yaakov Shalev, seated third from right, helped organize Iraqi Jews’ exodus to Israel. (Courtesy Asaf Shalev)

“When I arrived for a visit with family in Israel in my early twenties, my septum piercing outraged nearly everyone at our Shabbat morning gathering. Even my younger cousins badgered me to remove it. It took my elderly grandfather, Yaakov Shalev, to quiet everyone down and declare that I am his same beloved grandson, with or without the piercing.

“Calm, open-minded, steadfast, Saba Yaakov, as we called him, passed away peacefully in February at age 92 in Holon, with his five children at his side. He spent his last few hours listening to the melodies of his youth in Baghdad, the music of giants such as Umm Kulthum, Mohammed Abdel Wahab, and Fairuz.

“Saba Yaakov helped organize the exodus of Iraqi Jewry to Israel in 1950 and then enlisted in the Israeli military as an airplane mechanic. He taught himself how to build houses and became a successful contractor in the 1960s. But he soon decided the stress was too much and opened a shop in south Tel Aviv where he fabricated canvases for Israeli artists and framed their paintings. He kept the shop running for more than 40 years, going to work every day until he was in his eighties.” — Asaf Elia-Shalev, JTA reporter

Trude Feldman

A journalist who specialized in Yom Kippur interviews

Trude Feldman interviews Jimmy Carter in the White House in 1978. (Jimmy Carter Presidential Library)

The daughter of a rabbinical family, Trude Feldman launched her career covering the 1961 trial of Nazi mass murderer Adolf Eichmann in Jerusalem, where she put her training as a Hebrew teacher to use by teaching the language to the Nazi’s lawyer. (She also taught Hebrew to famed converts Sammy Davis Jr. and Elizabeth Taylor, and to Paul Newman on the set of “Exodus.”) But it was in her coverage of American presidents that Feldman truly made her mark, becoming famous for scoring presidential exit interviews and Yom Kippur interviews, which she would pitch as an opportunity for redemption. That’s what got her the first interview with Bill Clinton after he copped in 1998 to yes, having sex with that woman. The mainstream media mocked her for her softballs — “Saturday Night Live” once did so in a sketch — but those close to her understood their value. “The joke, however, was on everyone else,” her nephew, Rabbi Daniel Feldman, wrote in a remembrance. “Paired with her signature persistence, her style more often elicited not puff but profundity, more sincerity than sugar. The unique access she earned — baffling to some, understood to the astute, acknowledged by all — yielded memorable results.”

Harlene Winnick Appelman

A revolutionary leader in Jewish education

Harlene Winnick Appelman in an undated photo provided by the Covenant Foundation.

Born in upstate New York, Harlene Appelman’s career in Jewish education took off in 1982 when she became the director of family life education at Congregation Shaarey Zedek in Southfield, Michigan, a Detroit suburb. There, she pioneered interactive Jewish learning, bringing children out of dry frontal settings into a more tactile experience of Judaism. After joining the board of the Covenant Foundation, which funds and promotes Jewish education, in 1994, she became its director in 2005 and held that role until 2021, allowing her to influence a generation of Jewish educators. Many of them mourned her death at 75 on Aug. 18; the cause was cancer. “I am one of an entire congregation of Jewish educational leaders who Harlene mentored, supported, prodded and constructively critiqued, promoted, and made feel special,” wrote Rabbi Shira Koch Epstein, in an online remembrance. “I hope that in her memory, I will find ever new ways to help more Jewish rabbis and educators feel seen, heard, capable, and motivated.” This month, the Covenant Foundation initiated a new prize, in Jewish family education, in Appelman’s honor.

Tom Tugend

An indefatigable journalist

Tom Tugend in his Los Angeles home, Aug. 3, 2021. (Jacob Gurvis)

Tom Tugend was 13 when he and his family left their home in Berlin in 1939. He was 97 when he died Dec. 7 in Los Angeles, where he had lived for most of his life. In the intervening decades, he fought in the U.S. Army and the Israel Defense Forces; covered Jewish news for a wide array of publications, including JTA; and enjoyed 66 years of marriage during which he and his wife raised three daughters. “His authenticity came through to anyone who knew him,” said one of them, the journalist Alina Tugend. “He was a hero to many people.”

Judah Samet

A two-time survivor of antisemitic terror

Judah Samet stands next to his portrait, part of Luigi Toscano’s “Lest We Forget” project at the University of Pittsburgh in 2019. (Photo by Hector Corante, courtesy of Holocaust Center of Pittsburgh)

Judah Samet became a national face of Pittsburgh’s 2018 Tree of Life synagogue shooting because he survived: He had been running late that day, so was not inside the building when 11 of his fellow congregants were murdered. Months later, he was President Donald Trump’s guest to the State of the Union address. The experience was both very different Samet’s childhood in Hungary, where he was born in February 1938, and in some ways similar. As a young child, Samet was forced by the Nazis from his home and shipped with his family first to a labor camp in Austria and then to the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp. After a stop in Israel, he moved to Pittsburgh in the 1950s, ultimately joining his father-in-law’s jewelry business there and remaining a committed community member until his death at 84 on Sept. 27.


The post Rabbis, teachers, survivors: 18 Jews whose deaths diminished our communities in 2022 appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.

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Mayor Mamdani, please step back from the brink

For much of the last year, I’ve defended Mayor Zohran Mamdani against critics who have accused him of antisemitism. And I continue to do so now: Mamdani is not antisemitic, and he has done great things for New York City, inspiring younger voters, improving the quality of life in the city with progressive polities, and being the most accessible mayor in at least a generation.

But when it comes to Israel/Palestine, Mamdani has acted recklessly, wrongheadedly and irresponsibly. It is one thing to make strident, inaccurate and extreme statements as a progressive activist; indeed, nothing about Mamdani’s recent comments about Israel and its prime minister are new to me. I have heard the same things over and over in progressive spaces. But it is another to do so as the mayor of a city with 960,000 Jews living in it, at least a quarter of whom support its current government.

As someone who has been sharply, publicly critical both of the Netanyahu government and of the “anti-antisemitism” industry, I urge the mayor to step back from the brink, reflect on the office he now holds, and consider the responsibilities that come with it.

It is too soon to say whether Mamdani’s recent comments inspired the apparent hate crime that took place on the Upper West Side last week, in which a Jewish person and an Asian person were stabbed by someone who allegedly shouted “Allahu Akbar.” Personally, I doubt that they did — hate crimes are rarely quid pro quo — but time will tell. But can you blame Jewish New Yorkers for connecting the dots?

Whatever their relationship to the attack, Mayor Mamdani’s recent comments were wrongheaded in at least four ways.

First, they were reckless. Yes, Mamdani has condemned antisemitism and all other forms of bigotry. Yes, his comments were about a “nation-state,” in his words, not a people. But do we really expect would-be criminals and terrorists to parse the difference between extremely harsh criticisms of the Jewish state and the Jewish people who support it? When the mayor says the Jewish state has committed genocide, and that everyone with eyes can see this is true, it is entirely foreseeable that a bigot will take it out on Jewish people.

Zohran Mamdani is no longer a young DSA activist preaching to the left-wing choir in the basement of a community center in Brooklyn. He is the mayor of New York City, a kingmaker, and a rising star in the Democratic Party. And with that power comes increased responsibility.  Even if his criticisms are justified, it is reckless for a mayor to present them the way he did. Indeed, if this happened on the Right, we would call it “stochastic terrorism.”

Second, Mamdani’s comments were careless with the facts. His statement was a cri de coeur, full of far-left platitudes but rife with factual errors.

“Benjamin Netanyahu is a war criminal, the architect of a horrific genocide against the Palestinian people,” said the mayor of New York City on July 21. Is that accurate? It is not. Yes, Netanyahu has been charged with war crimes, and there is indeed an ICC warrant for his arrest — but he has not been convicted. He is not (yet) a war criminal. Is he the architect of a genocide? Maybe, or maybe not; that, too, has not yet been established by any legal authority.

But Mamdani isn’t resting on legal authority; his case is based solely on outrage. In his words: “Anyone, with their eyes, with their heart, with their conscience, should recognize the devastation he has wrought, and understand that he belongs before a court of law.” So that is the standard of review? What my eyes, heart and conscience say?

Tell me, Mr. Mayor, how do my eyes discern the intent to destroy an entire people, which is a necessary part of the legal crime of genocide? Does my heart know the heart of a leader halfway around the world? In the absence of the documentary evidence that underlies every genocide conviction of the last 70 years, is my conscience proof enough?

This isn’t lawfulness — it is demagoguery, and I find it frightening.

Now, while it is fashionable in this decade to take an extreme position and double down on it, I am taking no position on these questions. It does seem to me that the State of Israel committed war crimes in Gaza, and the nature of the destruction of Gaza was absolutely horrible, clearly out of proportion to military necessity. And if there is evidence that Israel’s decisionmakers shared the intentions of Itamar Ben Gvir and Bezalel Smotrich, who have called for Palestinians to be ejected from Gaza, then, tragically, the state did in fact commit genocide.

But we can’t know this by our eyes, heart, and conscience; for that, we need investigations, a trial and a legal process. It is lawless to assume the conclusion of such a process before it has even begun.

Third, Mamdani’s comments betray his responsibility as mayor.

Of the 960,000 Jews in New York City, at least a third (but probably more) identify as Zionist, and a quarter basically support Israel’s actions in Gaza, or at least understand them in the context of the mass murders and rapes of Oct. 7 and the intransigence of Hamas in the months thereafter. After all, when the hostages were finally released, the bombs (mostly) stopped dropping. Had Hamas surrendered sooner, this position says, fewer Gazans would have been killed.

This is not my view, as I have said. But it is the view of at least 250,000 New Yorkers. How, Mr. Mayor, are they now supposed to regard themselves as citizens of New York? Their own mayor has said that they support genocide and war crimes, as anyone with eyes, a heart and a conscience can see. There is no reasonable disagreement here, no dickering over the Genocide Convention or the ratio of civilian deaths in urban warfare. There is only one truth, and those 250,000 New Yorkers are — well, what other word is there — evil.

Has any mayor ever said such a thing about his own constituents?

Sure, mayors take political stances, including about Israel/Palestine. Eric Adams took several controversial, and to my mind misguided, ones. But I cannot find an example in recent history of a mayor saying that a quarter million of his own constituents are either evil or blind or both.

And then to be shocked that a bigot might be inspired by them?

To repeat, I am not saying many things here. I am not saying the mayor is antisemitic; he is not. I am not saying the destruction of Gaza didn’t happen, or was justified, or was entirely Hamas’ fault; it was not. I am not saying that Israel didn’t commit genocide or war crimes; perhaps it did. I am only saying that a mayor should not make conclusory, incendiary statements that directly impugn the morality — even the humanity — of a quarter of a million of his constituents.

Perhaps worst of all, though, is how Mamdani’s rash comments have set back the cause of peace and emboldened the opponents of coexistence.

First, he has strengthened the ADL, AIPAC, and Netanyahu himself, all of whom have gleefully chanted versions of “we told you so.” He has validated both the fears of Jewish New Yorkers and the calumnies of the anti-antisemitism crowd, while making his liberal-but-not-radical supporters look like idiots. He has played directly into the hands of Israel’s staunchest defenders.

And in so doing, he hasn’t advanced the cause of justice, safety, and dignity for five million Palestinians who live in Palestine itself. On the contrary, by so greatly strengthening the hand of their enemies, I would argue he has done the opposite.

The post Mayor Mamdani, please step back from the brink appeared first on The Forward.

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Experimenting with translation on today’s Yiddish stage

„פֿרײַנד און פֿײַנט, ברוכים הבאים! זײַט באַגריסט צו דער װעלט־באַרימטער װעלט־מײַסטערשאַפֿט פֿון ייִדישע קללות!“

אַזוי רעוועט אויף דער בינע אַן אָנזאָגערין (געשפּילט פֿון װיװי לאַקס) אױף ייִדיש, אײדער אַ צווייטער אָנזאָגער (פּאָל קענדלער) זעצט איבער דעם זאַץ אױף ענגליש, אָנהייבנדיק מיט דער פֿראַזע !Friends and foes.

שטייענדיק אין אַ מיזרח־לאָנדאָנער טעאַטער האָט קענדלער מיט אַ געדאַכטן שופֿר פֿאַרבעטן די צװײ קאָמאַנדעס פֿון „קללה־קעמפֿערס“ אויפֿצוטרעטן. די זיבן „שדים פֿון חילול־הכּבֿוד“, אױף בינע־לינקס, האָבן בײז געקוקט אױף די פֿינף קעמפֿערס פֿון „גולם פֿונעם עולם“, אױף בינע־רעכטס. די  ריכטערין — אַן איבערגעבױגענע, 3,000-יאָר־אַלטע „דבֿורה פֿון דער תּורה“ — איז געזעסן אױפֿן שופֿט־בענקל. צװײ ספּאָרט־קאָמענטאַטאָרן אױף דער הינטערבינע האָבן אַנאַליזירנט דעם גאַנצן פֿאַרמעסט.

די קעמפֿערס האָבן גענומען שעלטן זײערע קעגנערס, קודם־כּל מיט מילדע זידלװערטער און שפּעטער מיט שװערע װייטיקן, קרענק און טױטקאָמישן שלימזל׃ „זאָל די לעבער דיר שטיקלעכװײַז אַרױספֿליִען דורך דער נאָז“!

אױף יעדער קללה האָבן די קעמפֿערס רעאַגירט אויף אַן איבערגעטריבענעם אופֿן, אַזױ װי מע וואָלט זיי געשלאָגן מיט אַ גװאַלדיקן זעץ. פֿאַר ווייטיק האָבן די אַקטיאָרן זיך געהאַלטן בײַ די זײַטן, אומגעפֿאַלן — ווידער אויפֿגעשטאַנען און דערלאַנגט צוריק. בשעת־מעשׂה האָבן די קאָמענטאַטאָרן איבערגעזעצט אַלע קללות אױף ענגליש — אָבער אױך אַרײַנגעװאָרפֿן אײגענע װיציקע באַמערקונגען. „ממש אַ פּאַטש אינעם דורכגאָס פֿון האָרמוז!“ האָט איינער אויסגערופֿן.

אַזוי ווי עס טרעפֿט אָפֿט הײַנט בײַ ייִדישע פֿאָרשטעלונגען וווּ ס׳רובֿ צוקוקער קענען נישט קיין ייִדיש, האָט מען נאָך יעדן וויץ געהערט צװײ כװאַליעס געלעכטער: אײן רעאַקציע אױף דער ייִדישער קללה גופֿא און אַ צװײטע — אַ העכערע רעאַקציע אױף דער איבערזעצונג.

שפּראַך־עקספּערימענטן אױף דער בינע

דער קללה־פֿאַרמעסט איז געװען בלױז אײנער פֿון פֿערצן קורצע אַקטן אין דער ערשטער אָװנט־פּראָגראַם פֿון די „לאָנדאָנער ייִדיש־שפּילערס“ אין יוני. די נײַע טרופּע איז אָנגעפֿירט דורך פֿינף באַקאַנטע טוערס אין דער אָרטיקער ייִדיש־סבֿיבֿה׃ סאָניאַ גאָלאַנס, װיװי לאַקס, תּמרה מיצנער, שמואל־לײבל אָגין און דוד שנײַדער (נישט קײן קרובֿ מײַנער).

כּמעט יעדע סצענע האָט אײַנגעגלידערט די ענגלישע שפּראַך אױף אַן אוניקאַלן אופֿן.

פֿאַר די צװײ קאָמעדיע־פּיעסקעלעך פֿון שלום־עליכמען און די װײניק באַקאַנטע מעלאָדראַמע פֿון ש. אַן־סקין האָט מען פּראָיעקטירט ענגלישע איבערקעפּלעך הינטער דער בינע. אין רובֿ פֿאַלן, אָבער, האָבן די שפּילערס גערעדט אָדער געזונגען אַ געמיש. אין אַן אױסצוג פֿון „דער דיבוק“, למשל, האָבן געװיסע אַקטיאָרן איבערגעזעצט וואָס אַנדערע אױף דער בינע האָבן געזאָגט. אין אַ סצענע פֿון שנײַדערס אָריגינעלער דראַמע, „לאָזן סטאַלינען לאַכן“, רעדן די ייִדישע פּאַרשױנים ייִדיש, בעת די קאָמוניסטישע פֿונקציאָנאַרן רעדן ענגליש.

די פּראָגראַם פֿון דער פֿאָרשטעלונג Photo by Jake Schneider

אין אײן סצענע האָט מען בכלל נישט צוגעשטעלט קײן איבערזעצונגען׃ אַ נײַע ייִדיש־אַדאַפּטאַציע פֿונעם קאַנאַדער קינדערביכל „מױרעס געבורטסטאָג“ פֿון ראָבערט מונש. תּמרה מיצנער האָט נישט נאָר פֿאַרטײַטשט, פֿאַרבעסערט, דראַמאַטיזירט און רעזשיסירט די מעשׂה, נאָר אױך געשפּילט די הויפּטראָלע.

די סופֿליאָרשע תּמרה גליסאָן־פֿרידבערג האָט אַרײַנגעפֿירט די סצענע מיט אַ קורצער ענגלישער הקדמה און איז פּלוצלינג נעלם געװאָרן, צוזאַמען מיט דער ענגלישער שפּראַך.

דער סיפּור־המעשׂה פֿון „מױרעס געבורטסטאָג“ איז אַ פּשוטער. מױרע פֿאַרבעט אַלע קינדער פֿון איר גאַנצער עלעמענטאַר־שול אױף אַ שׂימחה בײַ זיך אין דער הײם. אַזאַ סך הונגעריקע קינדערלעך! װאָס טוט מען — און װאָס עסט מען?

אויף דער בינע האָט מען געשפּילט די קאָמעדיע זײער „פֿיזיש“. במשך פֿון דער סצענע האָט מיצנער איבערגעחזרט אַלע קלאַסן וואָס זי האָט פֿאַרבעטן אויף איר געבוירן־טאָג שׂימחה (קלאַס א׳, קלאַס ב׳…) און יעדעס מאָל האָט זי געניצט די זעלבע איבערגעטריבענע אָרעם־באַװעגונגען — אַ פֿיזישער פֿאָרם פֿון טעאַטער מחוץ ווערטער.

איך אַליין האָב קױם באַמערקט אַז עס פֿעלן די איבערזעצונגען. נאָר מײַן זיץ־שכנטע האָט דאָס יאָ באַמערקט. „װאָס איז געװאָרן פֿון די איבערקעפּלעך?“ האָט זי מיר געשעפּטשעט. „עפּעס אַ טעכנישער פֿעלער?“

 ווי עס ווײַזט זיך אַרויס, איז דאָס בפֿירוש נישט געווען קיין טעות.

דער עולם איז דאָך נישט קײן גולם

סאָפֿי אַבלעט, אַן אַקטריסע פֿון דער טרופּע, האָט דערצײלט אַז איר יאַפּאַנישער חבֿר אין עולם, נישט קײן ייִדיש־רעדער, האָט פֿאַרשטאַנען „מױרעס געבורטסטאָג“ אױף אַן אַנדער מדרגה מחוץ דער שפּראַך. הגם ער האָט נישט געכאַפּט דעם גאַנצן סוזשעט, האָט ער אָפּגעשאַצט די קינדערשע פּאַרשױנים, זײער באַשײַמפּערלעכע פֿרײד און דערקװיקונג.

אַבלעט האַלט אַז מע דאַרף מוטיקן דעם עולם „זיך מער אומצוקוקן“ אויף דער סצענע, װײַל אַנישט װעט מען בעיקר לײענען די אייבערקעפּלעך און „פֿאַרפֿעלן די װיזועלע דערפֿאַרונג“. די איבערזעצונגען, פֿון אַבי װאָסער פֿאָרמאַט, שטעלן מיט זיך פֿאָר קאָמפּראָמיסן. בקיצור׃ נישטאָ קײן אוניװערסאַלע לײזונג.

דער הױפּט־רעזשיסאָר דוד שנײַדער האָט מיר באַשריבן די גאַנצע פּראָגראַם — װאָס הײסט אױף ענגליש „Yiddish Theatre Reboot“ — װי אַ רײ עקספּערימענטן: „אָט איז דער בופֿעט [פֿון סטראַטעגיעס]. װאָס האָט גערירט דעם עולם? װי אַזױ האָט דאָס געװירקט אױף די אַרטיסטן די נישט ייִדיש־רעדנדיקע? װי אַזױ האָבן געאַרבעט די פֿאַרשײדענע עקספּערימענטן אַרײַנצונעמען ענגליש אינעם סצענאַר?“

צװײ־שפּראַכיקײט הינטער די קוליסן

דער אַנסאַמבל שטעלט מיט זיך פֿאָר אַ מין „װען־דיאַגראַם“: אײן קרײַז מענטשן געניטע אױף דער בינעקונסט און אַ צװײטער קרײַז מענטשן באַהאַװנטע מיט ייִדיש. אַ קלײנע צאָל ייִדיש־רעדנדיקע, פּראָפֿעסיאָנעלע אַקטיאָרן פֿאַרבינדט בײדע קרײַזן.

מע האָט אױך עקספּערימענטירט הינטער די קוליסן, בײַ די װאַרשטאַטן און רעפּעטיציעס, װוּ די 20 שפּילערס זענען זיך צונױפֿגעקומען. אַ טײל האָבן נישט תּיכּף געכאַפּט די בינע־אָנװײַזונגען ווי למשל: װעלכע זײַט איז „בינע־רעכטס“? — און אַנדערע האָבן זיך געבראָכן די צונג אױף די רעפּליקן.

דער אַקטיאָר בען װאַרדי האָט פֿאַרגליכן דעם ייִדיש־טעאַטער מיט זײַנע ייִדיש־לעקציעס: „קײן מאָל װעל איך נישט פֿאַרגעסן די װערטער װאָס איך האָב געזאָגט אױף דער בינע. זײ ׳קלעפּן זיך׳ דאָרט אַ סך פֿעסטער װי אין קלאַסצימער. איך האָב זײ צוגעבונדן צו עפּעס פֿרײדיקס, קינסטלערישס און שאַפֿערישס. דאָס פֿאַרזיגלט זײ אין מײַן מוח.“

די שפּילערס האָבן צוגעהאָלפֿן אײנער דעם צװײטן. בײַ די רעפּעטיציעס האָט מען געמאַכט אַ פּאַמעלעכן איבערגאַנג פֿון ענגליש אױף ייִדיש — און געפּרוּװט צו שפּילן דראַמאַטישער, ייִדישלעכער טאַקע, נישט „פֿון האַלדז אַרױף“ (ד״ה, בלױזן מיטן קאָפּ און מיטן קול), װי אין ענגלישן טעאַטער.

שנײַדער, 63, געדענקט נאָך דעם ייִדיש־טעאַטער פֿון אַ מאָל. זײַנע באָבע־זײדע זענען געװען  ייִדיש־אַקטיאָרן און טעאַטער־מאַכערס. אין די 1980ער יאָרן האָט ער אָנגעהויבן שרײַבן אַ דיסערטאַציע בײַם אָקספֿאָרד־אוניװערסיטעט לגבי ייִדיש־דראַמעס. אָבער אַנטשטאָט צו שרײַבן אַקאַדעמישע אַנאַליזן האָט ער צום סוף געשריבן אײגענע סצענאַרן און געשפּילט קאָמעדיע אין טעאַטער, טעלעװיזיע און קינאָ.

שנײַדער געפֿינט זיך אין סאַמע מיטן דיאַגראַם.

מגדל בבֿל׃ אַן אוראַלטע מעשׂה

מע דאַרף נישט מײנען, אַז די לאָנדאָנער ייִדיש־שפּילערס ראַנגלען זיך מיט שפּאָגל־נײַע פּראָבלעמען, אָדער אַז יעדער אײנער אין אַ ייִדישן טעאַטער האָט פֿריִער געקענט „דעם קיניגינס ייִדיש“.

לױטן רומענישן ייִדיש־רעזשיסאָר אַלעקסאַנדער האַוזפֿאַטער האָט דער ייִדישער טעאַטער זינט בראשית — 1876 אין רומעניע, מיט פּונקט 150 יאָרן צוריק — תּמיד געהאַט אַ לינגװיסטיש געמישטן עולם. טאַקע דערפֿאַר זענען די זינגלידער, דער ספּעקטאַקל און דאָס איבערגעזאַלצענע שפּילן אַזױ צענטראַל.

אינעם מלוכישן ייִדיש־טעאַטער פֿון בוקאַרעשט, װאָס האָט זייער אַ לאַנגן ייִחוס, שפּילט מען עד־היום אױף מאַמע־לשון מיט רומענישע איבערקעפּלעך — כאָטש נישט די אַקטיאָרן און נישט דער עולם קענען הײַנט האַלטן אַ שמועס אױף דער שפּראַך.

שױן אין די 1950ער יאָרן האָט דער בוקאַרעשטער טעאַטער פֿאַרמאָגט אַ הײַ־טעק־סיסטעם פֿאַר אױדיאָ־איבערזעצונגען. קינדװײַז פֿלעג האַוזפֿאַטער דאָרט אױסלײַען אַ הער־אַפּאַראַט אינעם פֿאָיע און אַרײַנשטעקן די שנור אין אַ שטעפּסל בײַ זײַן זיץ. דורך אײן אױער האָט ער זיך צוגעהערט צו די אַקטיאָרן אױף ייִדיש, און דורכן צװײטן — צום רומעניש־דאָלמעטשער, װאָס האָט אױף אַ באַלקאָן געשושקעט אין מיקראָפֿאָן אַרײַן.

האַוזפֿאַטערס טאַטע, זיצנדיק לעבן אים, האָט נישט געדאַרפֿט קײן איבערזעצונג. ס׳האָט נישט אויסגעמאַכט וואָס דער טאַטע האָט געלאַכט פֿון די וויצן אַ ביסל פֿריִער.

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Their art was whimsical, elegant, ‘scandalous,’ and colorful. It was also revolutionary.

Even under glass, designer Fritzi Löw’s intricately beaded “Adam and Eve” bag manages to sparkle.

One of 200 objects and artifacts on display in “Modernity and Opulence: Women of the Wiener Werkstätte,” a major new exhibition at the Jewish Museum, presented in cooperation with the MAK — Museum of Applied Arts, Vienna, the piece captures the show’s theme of casting off old ways and old fashions.

Founded in 1903 and active through 1932, the Wiener Werkstätte, or Vienna Workshops, gave women, who were entering public life and the workforce in greater numbers, a way to turn specialized artistic skills into lifelong professions, including architecture, decorative arts, ceramics and textiles. In so doing they changed the way they and women outside the workshop saw themselves.

Fritzi Löw’s beaded ‘Adam and Eve’ bag. Photo by Cathryn J. Prince

“For some, their first opportunities for paid artistic work were through the Wiener Werkstätte, which became a vital professional pipeline for women artists while also bringing an influx of virtuosic experimentation to the workshop,” Kristina Parsons, the museum’s assistant curator, said.

At least one-quarter of the nearly 200 women who worked for the multidisciplinary collective were of Jewish faith, Jewish descent, or came from Jewish families.

While the exhibition features many Jewish artists, it spotlights Vally Wieselthier and Felice Rix-Ueno. Their prolific work in ceramics and textile design has had a lasting influence on both disciplines.

The exhibit “brings together art, design, fashion and Jewish history to illuminate the central role Jewish women played in shaping modernity, both as visionary makers and as influential patrons,” said James S. Snyder, director of the Jewish Museum.

For example, Rix’s fanciful, colorful designs appeared on toys, tableware, wallpaper and dresses. The exhibit showcases her elegant tasseled cigarette case, a chiffon cinched waist dress as well as whimsical designs for a papier-mâche bird and another for a toy carriage pulled by a dog.

The early 1900s ushered in the era of the “New Woman,” a time when women were shedding the boned and corseted fashions of the past in favor of more fluid, and even fanciful, garments. It was also a time when women increasingly pursued higher education, fought for suffrage, and challenged restrictive gender roles and clothing.

That sensibility is captured in the dozens of fashion postcards on display, which served as both advertisements and collectibles. In one, a woman wearing a sky-blue turban and a form-fitting white-and-black dress trimmed with fur glances casually over her right shoulder as she walks a small black dog. In another, a woman peers assuredly from beneath a plumed hat, her curly hair cut in a bob, scarlet red lipstick her only hint of makeup.

As Parsons explained, the Wiener Werkstätte’s fashion department allowed women to directly address public perceptions of modern femininity by designing clothes and accessories that they, and other like-minded women, could incorporate into daily life.

“Women’s dress was an important point of convergence between larger impulses toward reform and feminist politics — fashion was then, as now, understood for its capacity to be a revolutionary statement,” she said.

Wilhelm List’s 1910 ‘Young Woman in Undergarments.’ Courtesy of Minneapolis Institute of Art. The Mary Ingebrand-Pohlad Endowment for Twentieth Century Painting

It’s an idea captured in Wilhelm List’s 1910 “Young Woman in Undergarments.” The oil painting depicts a woman believed to be Wally Neuzil, who later trained as a nurse. She wears ruffled “umbrella drawers,” which fall loosely around her knees, and a sleeveless chemise. The garments allow for ease of movement and comfort in one’s own skin.

The exhibition also shows how Jewish women such as the noted socialite and arts patron Adele Bloch-Bauer and the journalist and salon hostess Berta Zuckerkandl helped ensure the workshop’s success.

In turn, upper-class clientele, including progressive Jewish intellectuals, commissioned furniture and interiors, wore Werkstätte fashions, sent Rosh Hashanah greetings on Werkstätte-designed stationery, and celebrated the workshop’s creations.

During its 30 years of operation, the workshop produced hundreds of patterns. Between 1910 and 1917 alone, it created more than 500 designs. One wall of the gallery is given over to textiles. Bold reds and purples evoke coral formations, while zigzag patterns combine purple and orange with chocolate and persimmon.

Aside from textiles and illustrations, there are also dozens of ceramics, such as Susi Singer’s design for a green and gold oven that, with its cake-like tiers, looks as if it belongs in a Disney animated film.

Artist Vally Wieselthier’s mirror, fashioned from glazed earthenware and adorned with a trio of busts, hangs near a collection of her outsized ceramic heads. The heads, some of which stand nearly two-feet tall, were modeled after mythological and classical figures, but also shopkeepers and everyday people. The works drew both praise and ridicule, dismissed by one newspaper as “scandalous bimbo business.”

While the Werkstätte sputtered out in 1932 for a host of reasons, including poor management, financial troubles, a resistance to mass production, and a decline in wealthy patrons, its influence remains.

According to Parsons, “In bringing together highlights from the remarkable body of work made by Jewish women for the Werkstätte, this exhibition spotlights their creativity, ambition, and influence, while inviting visitors to explore a group of artists who embraced decoration as a central expression of modernity.”

Modernity and Opulence: Women of the Wiener Werkstätte continues through Nov. 15, 2026 at the Jewish Museum.

 

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