Features
Einstein’s Smile: A Tale of Two Pictures
By DAVID TOPPER In my previous story in the Jewish Post & News, “Einstein & Johanna: A True Tale of Tragic Comedy,’’ I began by saying that I first heard the name “Einstein” when I was around the age of 10.
So let me begin this story when Albert himself was about that same age, and he had his class photo taken on the steps of his school. This picture is one of the earliest pictures we have of him – and it’s one of my favourites. It shows his all-boys class of 52 students lined-up in five rows. Einstein is in the front row, the third from the right, and clearly one of the smallest in the group.
The unique and utterly fascinating thing about this picture is this simple fact: all the other boys are looking grimly at the camera, while little Albert is the only one with a smile on his face. Look closely: all 51 others, with hands at their sides, appear stern, anxious, intimidated, sulky, or scared; Einstein, with hands behind his back, has a cute, little, slightly impish smirk on his face – unquestionably, a look that any parent would love. Just compare the detailed picture of him with the boys to his immediate sides : the contrast, indeed, is at once stunning and amusing.
Right here, in this astounding image (a mere class photo) is the visual manifestation of the laid-back contrarian that he would become throughout his life. In this one picture, knowing what I know about him, his whole life almost flashes forward before me. So, here, I wish to share a piece of this story with you.
As reported by those who knew him, Einstein was modest and unpretentious, without an iota of conceit or arrogance, treating all people in the same manner, independently of class or rank. He spoke the same way to a president as to a janitor. He also had a hearty laugh, with a child-like twinkle in his eye. OK, all this may be a bit of an exaggeration (sounding more like Santa Claus), but variations of these traits are persistently repeated among those who knew him and reminisce about his personality. He really was a down-to-earth guy. For example, he refused to travel first-class. Even when sent first-class tickets, he sat in third-class, driving the fastidious ticket-takers crazy.
I have a second picture to talk about. But before that, I want to see what else there is about his life that I can read into his class picture. What do we know about his early life that might help us? Best to begin at birth.
Albert Einstein (1879-1955) was born in a small town (Ulm) on the Danube River in south-western Germany to unobservant Jewish parents. Although the town today boasts of his birth, he was still an infant when the family moved to Munich, where he spent his formative years. His mother, Pauline, had a deep commitment to music, and she tried to instill that affection in her young son by forcing violin lessons on him. A love of music eventually sunk into his psyche around his transition to the teenage years, and Albert carried that commitment throughout his life. He exhibited his love of music by packing his violin on trips. Serious music, to him, was confined to the works of the “classical” period of what is called classical music, especially that of Mozart and Haydn, although he would happily dip back into the Baroque and J. S. Bach.
His father, Hermann, was a businessman who could have made a lot of money at the time because he was in the electrical business (motors and dynamos, for example), which was to the late-19th century what computer high-tech paraphernalia was to the late-20th century. But, just as the “dot.com” boom and bust resulted in some winners and many losers, most who made the effort in the electrical business did not achieve success. Hermann’s business went bust.
Albert’s sister, Marie (called Maja), was born when he was age two, and she was his only sibling. Maja, in a short memoir written in the early-1920s, is a crucial source of information about her brother’s childhood; this is important because there are many myths circulating through the media and beyond about Einstein’s youth. Today, many special interest groups wish to embrace Einstein as the poster boy for their various causes. Nonetheless, Einstein was not a slow learner, a vegetarian, left-handed, nor any of a range of idiosyncrasies that you will find in special-group websites on the Internet testifying that Einstein was one-of-them. Although his parents tutored him for his first year of school, he also was not “home schooled,” for he continued through the German school system until the age of 15, when he dropped out before graduating in his final year. Yes, Einstein was a high-school dropout, but I must confess that I have not yet come across a website of “High-School Dropouts” claiming Einstein as one-of-them.
Contrary to another myth, Maja reports that her brother was not a slow learner but was “a precocious young man” who had a “remarkable power of concentration,” such that he could “lose himself…completely in a problem.” Later, for Einstein the scientist, this youthful behavior was clearly repeated – like a leitmotif, throughout his scientific life.
It’s true that Albert detested the rigidity of the German way of teaching, but he still got good grades. Yet, he did not hide his feelings about the oppressive atmosphere of the classroom, so that one teacher went so far as to tell Albert’s parents that their son set a poor example for the other students by his overt hostility. This may cast some light on the special smile on his face in our photo, for it surely reveals the contrarian attitude on social mores that he displayed throughout his life. One obvious example: think of his lack of decorum in the grooming of his hair, which began in the 1930s.
An example of nonconformity of a different kind took place in his pre-teen years when he became extremely religious and admonished his anti-religious parents for not following the rules of Orthodox Judaism. This personal obsession lasted for a few years, to the consternation of Hermann and Pauline, only to disappear right before he would have been Bar Mitzvah. (It never happened.) In his very brief autobiography, written in 1947, he says that the reason for this quick change was his discovery of science and math, and for him the accompanying realization that the Bible was untrue. The result was an intellectual and emotional transformation. He viewed the religious outlook as subjective and solipsistic, whereas the scientific viewpoint was a route to objectivity and a liberation from what he called “the merely personal” – or subjectivity. He put it this way: “Beyond the self there is the vast world, which exists independently of human beings, and that stands before us like a great, eternal riddle, at least partially accessible to our inspection and thinking.” This statement acted as a maxim for his scientific endeavours to the end of his life.
But this is not the full story of his transformation: he added a socio-political element that is rather startling and remarkable for someone around age 12 or 13. He said he came to realize that “youth is intentionally being deceived by the state through lies” and that therefore a “mistrust of every kind of authority grew out of this experience.” These are profound and troubling views for someone at an age where most boys are more obsessed with sports and girls. Does this give us a hint at a deeper meaning of the smile in Photo 1? Maybe not, he was but 9 or 10 when the picture was taken. Nevertheless, it does give us a sense of continuity from here to the unconventional citizen we know later in life.
As we continue to pursue the question of the roots of his maverick ways, we find two episodes of interest at age 15 or 16. Both were triggered by the collapse of his father’s business, and the need for the family to move from Munich to the town of Pavia in northern Italy just south of Milan, where his father’s brother had a more successful business. Since Albert was in his last year of high school, he was placed in a boarding house in Munich while his parents and sister went on to Italy without him. Alone and feeling abandoned, he sank into a deep depression and had to leave school. But he had the wherewithal to obtain a letter from his math teacher saying that he completed that part of the curriculum. This was the first episode.
The other episode, however, might not have seemed very level-headed at the time. After crossing the German border, he applied to the government to renounce his German citizenship, making him a stateless person thereafter. Some scholars believe that in order to trigger such a desperate act, something almost elemental about German society had deeply troubled Einstein. We know he had major misgivings about the militaristic features of German society as expressed in the educational system. Or was it a reaction to his father’s loss of his livelihood, and the need to leave the country? His sister, Maja, however, had a simple answer: he was avoiding being drafted into the military.
Accordingly, as a high school dropout, Albert arrived at his parents’ residence in Italy, much to their surprise and surely their chagrin. We have no documentation about the inevitable confrontation between him and his parents, but we can be sure that there was a dispute around the question of what he was going to do with the rest of his life. We, of course, know the answer, in the long run. But even in the short run, there was some hope.
Let’s return to that letter in Albert’s pocket when he left Munich, and back up a few years to the non-Bar Mitzvah around age 12 or 13. The unperformed religious transformative rite was replaced by a different revelation – as mentioned, he developed a zeal for science and in particular the logical rigor of mathematical reasoning. Specifically, he was given a primer on geometry, and he devoured it – even trying to prove some theorems before he read the proofs in the book. The logical way that mathematical reasoning produced eternal proofs had a deep psychological impact on this young man, so much so that even when writing his autobiography around the age of 68, he referred to this early textbook as the “holy geometry book.” How revealing this metaphor is: especially when we realize that he was reading Euclid, instead of Torah, the original “holy” book. He went on to teach himself calculus and other higher mathematics, so that by the time he dropped out of school, he was well-grounded in the mathematics required for graduation and beyond. Hence, the letter in his pocket, mentioned above.
Albert’s father had plans for his son to be an engineer. This is no surprise, since he was in the electrical business, which he (correctly) believed was the wave of the future. In particular, he wanted his son to enroll in the Swiss Polytechnic Institute in Zürich, one of the best schools in Europe. As luck (fate?) would have it, a completed high school diploma was not necessarily required for enrollment in the Poly; instead, there were a series of rigorous exams administered by the Institute. It seems that the letter from the math teacher was a factor in placing him in the special category.
So, in the fall of 1895 he took the entrance exams – but flunked them. There was, however, a silver lining to this incident. He did so well on the science and math parts (no shock here) that the Institute’s director recommended that he spend a year doing some remedial studying. After all, he was applying to the Institute a year or two early for his age, since the regular age of admission was about 18 years old.
Einstein spent the next year at the Kanton Schule in the town of Aarau, just west of Zürich. The curriculum was based on the ideas of the great Swiss educator, J. H. Pestalozzi, who (among other things) emphasized using visual materials as well as written texts as educational tools, and especially stressed direct student-teacher interaction. For Einstein, it was a delightful and memorable year: he enjoyed learning in a formal setting for the first time in his life.
Indeed, it was sometime during that year of motivated learning that he came up with what would be his first great experiment in his head, what we call a “thought experiment.” This idea involved moving in space at the speed of light; essentially it was based on this question: What would the world look like if we rode on a beam of light? Perhaps the Pestalozzi emphasis on visualizing played a role here? Listen to the following remark about the school in Aarau that Einstein wrote 60 years later: “It made an unforgettable impression on me, thanks to its liberal spirit and the simple earnestness of the teachers who based themselves on no external authority.”
Ah ha, “no external authority”: such progressive and open-minded thinking was guaranteed to have an impact on Einstein who, as quoted, believed that “youth is intentionally being deceived by the state through lies” and that therefore a “mistrust of every kind of authority grew out of this experience.” This Swiss Kanton Schule was obviously nothing like the German schooling he had previously experienced. No wonder he graduated in the fall of 1896 with good grades.
The year at Aarau proved fruitful. Einstein’s admittance to the Swiss Polytechnic was based on his grades at Aarau, and although his father wanted him to study to become an engineer, he enrolled in physics and mathematics – and we know where it went from there.
One more thing about the Aarau year. There is a class photo of that small graduating class of 10 students. It’s not reproduced here, for no one is smiling. They all look relaxed, but serious too as they ponder their future. Einstein may be a bit more relaxed than the others, and he may be staring off into space much further than his fellow students – but I hesitate in reading anything more into it. Nonetheless, I do know this: once, when reminiscing about that key year in his life, he said that, while the other students at Aarau filled their spare-time by swigging copious quantities of beer, he drank from a different trough – diligently reading The Critique of Pure Reason, by Immanuel Kant. And that surely was nothing to smile about. (Incidentally, Einstein was a teetotaller all his life.)
My key argument here is essentially about the role of pictures and what we can (or cannot) read into them. And this brings me to Photo 2 from 1931, over four decades later. Here Einstein, now the celebrity, is at a reception in the German Chancellery in Berlin. From the left they are: Max Planck (the famous physicist), Ramsay MacDonald (British Prime Minister), Einstein, Hermann Schmitz (on Einstein’s immediate left), and Hermann Dietrich (German Finance Minister).
I have no idea why these five men were seated together or what they were talking about. There are several extant pictures of this table-talk scene, which were taken by the pioneering photojournalist, Erich Salomon. I have chosen this one because it captures an animated Einstein speaking to the British Prime Minister. Notice the gesture with his cupped right-hand. It is a captivating image clearly displaying Einstein’s alert and smiling face, all in stark contrast to the serious, stern, and solemn visages of the other four. “Come on, guys – lighten up!” – I want to say with Einstein. Or, put differently: what’s there not to like about this Einstein fellow trying to cheer-up a much too formal table? Is it not clear why I am juxtaposing this 1931 picture with the smiling boy in school? And so, it seems that a story that began with a smile appears to end with a smile.
But not so fast.
The second picture is from 1931, and two years later Hitler will control the country. Serious looking Hermann Schmitz was from I.G. Farben, the chemical company that would become notorious for its role in developing Zyklon B used in the gas chambers in the Extermination Camps, and for this Herr Schmitz spent time in prison after World War II for Nazi war crimes.
Planck’s son, Erwin – who was also present at this formal affair but is not in this picture – was later executed by the Nazis as part of the plot to assassinate Hitler on July 20, 1944.
And then there’s the photographer Erich Salomon (b.1886). He died in 1944 in Auschwitz, which was supplied with chemicals from I.G. Farben.
The result is that Photo 2 is deeply laden with painful meaning, and I can never again see this picture with that initial innocence I had the first time I smiled along with Einstein as he made a point to the British Prime Minister. Such is the nature of images and the interaction and interdependence of our eyes and minds. To use an analogy: pictures are as much read they are as seen. And so, knowing what we know about Photo 2, there is nothing
Features
The Dream of Zion: Judah Halevi’s Quest
By DAVID R. TOPPER Today the term Zionism is debased by otherwise liberal-thinking former-friends of Jews and Israel. This is a fact. Nonetheless, I don’t wish to pursue present-day politics and debates on the issues around this fact. Except to point out that the former-friends’ error stems from a lack of knowledge of the history of the region – by just focusing on recent events.
Accordingly, I wish to put Zionism into a deeper historical perspective by recalling that, ever since the Roman destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE, the idea of returning to Zion was fundamental to the Jews of the Diaspora. Being indigenous to that region of the Middle East – hence going back thousands of years – Jews continued having a presence there – even after the Temple was razed.
Moreover, and in particular, my aim is to recall the story of one the major Zionists in Jewish history – Judah Halevi.
But perhaps it is best to start with this brief factoid. The Hebrew word צִיּוֹן (pronounced Tzee-yohn) has no unique meaning – ranging across fortress, desert, or monument – with its origin still being debated by scholars. One common use is for Mount Zion, a hill in Jerusalem. Close by is Mount Moriah, where King Solomon built the first Temple. In time, the term Zion came to be used for both hills together, and eventually for all of Jerusalem. Thus, the term Zionism refers to the idea of the exiled Jews (the Diaspora) returning to their indigenous homeland, centred at Jerusalem. Surely this was what Halevi believed, even though the word itself was not coined until 1890.
Judah Halevi (also Yahuda ha-Levi) was born in 1075 (alt 1080) probably in Toledo, Spain. This was during the so-called Golden Age of Jewish Culture there. The Jews in Islamic Spain were relatively free – unlike the Jews of central Europe, who suffered under the despotic rule of feudal lords. Highly educated, Judah became a physician, philosopher, mathematician, and poet. Today it is his poetry that has designated him as the greatest Hebrew poet. He died in 1141, probably at the age of 66.
He is often paired with Maimonides, considered the greatest Jewish thinker, who lived a generation later (born 1135). Both were physicians to the courts of the Caliphs in Spain.
Around the year 1120, probably about age 45, Halevi settled in Seville, married, and had one daughter. Another child also may have died. Much later, his wife died, probably after their daughter grew up and had children. With the loss of his wife, Judah grew restless. The Dream of Zion beckoned.
My heart is in the east, and I in the uttermost west—
How can I find savour in food? How shall it be sweet to me?
How shall I render my vows and my bonds, while yet
Zion lies beneath the fetter of Edom, and I in Arab chains?
A light thing would it seem to me to leave all the good things of Spain—
Seeing how precious in mine eyes to behold the dust of the desolate sanctuary.
This is one of a series of poems on this quest: called today The Songs of Zion, or the Zionides. His ultimate goal was to make aliyah to Jerusalem. To spend his final days there.
Zion! wilt thou not ask if peace be with thy captives
That seek thy peace—that are the remnants of thy flocks?
…
I would choose for my soul to pour itself out within that place
Where the spirit of God was outpoured upon your chosen.
…
I would fall, with my face upon the earth, and take delight
In thy stones and be tender to the dust.
…
Sweet would it be unto my soul to walk naked and barefoot
Upon the desolate ruins where the holiest dwellings were;
In the place of the Ark where it is hidden, and in the place
Of the cherubim which abode in the innermost recesses.
Sometime in 1140 he set out on his pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Taking a small ship through the Mediterranean, his mind was focused on the goal of being in Jerusalem.
Beautiful height! O joy! the whole world’s gladness!
O great King’s city, mountain blest!
My soul is yearning unto thee—is yearning
From the limits of the west.
…
And who shall grant me, on the wings of eagles,
To rise and seek thee through the years,
Until I mingle with the dust beloved,
The waters of my tears?
…
Shall I not to the very stones be tender?
Shall I not kiss them verily?
Shall not the earth upon my lips taste sweeter
Than honey unto me?
He, of course, also wrote poems about the sea voyage.
My God, break not the breakers of the sea,
Nor say Thou to the deep, ’Be dry’–
Until I thank Thy mercies, and I thank
The waves of the sea and the wind of the west;
Let them waft me to the place of the yoke of Thy love,
And bear far from me the Arab yoke.
There often were storms at sea.
Hath the flood come again and made the world a waste
So that one cannot see the face of the dry land,
And no man is there and no beast and no bird?
…
But only water and sky and ark,
And Leviathan making the abyss to boil,
So that one deems the deep to be hoary.
…
And the sea rages and my soul exults—
For the sanctuary of her God, she draws near.
It was a lonely trip. Thus, it’s not surprising to see him remember – and even dwell upon – the family that he left behind; especially, his daughter and her children.
Even so far that I can forsake her that went forth of my loins,
Sister of my soul—and she mine only one—
And I can forget her son, though it pierces my heart,
And I have nothing left but his memory for a symbol—
Fruit of my loins, child of my delight.
Yet, he remained focused on the goal – Zion.
But all this is a light thing when set against Thy love,
Since I may enter Thy gates with thanksgiving,
And sojourn there, and count my heart as
A burnt offering bound upon your altar;
And may make my grave in Thy land,
So that it be there a witness for me.
…
I cry to God with a melting heart and knees that smite together,
While anguish is in all loins,
On a day when the oarsmen are astonished at the deep,
When even the pilots find not their hands.
How shall I be otherwise, since I, on a ship’s deck,
Suspended between waters and heavens,
Am dancing and tossed about? —Yet this is but a light thing,
If I may but hold the festal dance in the midst of thee, O Jerusalem!
…
Truly the secret of my quest is in the hand of the Highest,
Who forms the mountain heights and created the wind.
The sea voyage ended in Alexandra, Egypt on Sept 8, 1140. He was welcomed by the large Jewish community there.
Praise, above all cities, be unto Egypt
Whither came first the word of God.
…
Fate has tossed me into the wilderness of Egypt:
Bid it carry me away and toss me yet again
Until I behold the wilderness of Judah.
Not surprisingly, while in Egypt he recalls Moses, whose name comes up in several poems. Here’s one.
My God, the wonder of Thee is astir from age to age:
And here is the Nile for witness, that Thou hast turned it into blood,
Not by magic …
But by Thy name, by the hand of Moses.
The Jews of Egypt begged him to stay. They must have been quite convincing – or, at least, they kept him occupied with things to do – because, despite his quest for Zion, he remained in Egypt until May 14, 1141, when he finally left – to resume his journey to Zion. (No matter how much I ponder this episode, I remain astonished that he stayed in Egypt over 8 months, especially since he was on the doorstep of Zion. It’s a fact that will ever bother me, and also remind me that no matter how much we may try – we can never really get into another’s mind.)
Can bodies of clay
Be prison-houses
For hearts bound fast
To eagles’ wings—
For a man life weary
Whose whole desire
Is to lay his face
In the chosen dust?
…
To cast Spain from him
And seek shores beyond;
…
To seek forgiveness
At the peaceful graves
Of the ark and the tablets
That are buried there.
It was an auspicious time to be in Palestine. From the fall of 1140 to the summer of 1141 was a period of relative peace and quiet. The land was governed as the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem, which encompassed much of what today is the state of Israel. But, of course, Judah was a Jew, and Christian Crusaders had a notorious record of the indiscriminate slaughter of Jews in their wake as they were crossing Europe in their journey to liberate the Holy Land from the Muslims.
As fate would have it: Judah Halevi never got to test the relative peace of the Crusader Kingdom. How close he came to Jerusalem is unknown. All we know for sure is that he died on the way in 1141– probably in July or August.
The historian in me, therefore, expects me to end this story – right here. Done.
However, recalling all Judah went through, leaving his family, the storms at sea – the many, many Zionist poems, only a fraction of which I have quoted here – the Romantic side of me pleads that I bring up the legend that arose sometime after his death.
The legend says that Judah got as far as approaching the gates of Jerusalem. Then, while reciting his poem Ode to Zion – an Arab ran him through with a sword. In another version he was trampled by an Arab horseman. Hence, in either case, he fulfilled his dream of reaching Zion. But just reaching it. That’s all.
Since I may enter Thy gates with thanksgiving,
And sojourn there, and count my heart as
A burnt offering bound upon Your altar;
And may make my grave in Thy land,
So that it be there a witness for me.
I wish it were so. I do. But, as with most legends – this one probably isn’t true. He may not even have come close to Jerusalem.
In the end – and interestingly enough – Judah’s plight seemed to be echoing what happened to Moses in his yearning to see the Promised Land. It was just a quest. Only an (unfulfilled) quest.
Truly the secret of my quest is in the hand of the Highest,
Who formed the mountain heights and created the wind.
* * *
For English translations of his poems, I used: Selected Poems of Jehudah Halevi, edited by Heinrich Brody, trans. from the Hebrew by Nina Salaman (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publications Society of America, 1974).
The biography that I have is: The Life and Time of Jehudah Halevi, by Rudolf Kayser, trans. from the German by Frank Gaynor (New York: Philosophical Library, 1949). Kayser, incidentally, is a son-in-law (by marriage) of Albert Einstein.
Features
Elizabeth Taylor’s Jewish connection
By HANNON BELL (Special to jewishpostandnews.ca. All photos from Hannon Bell’s personal collection) Elizabeth Taylor’s Jewish connection may not be well known by the general public, but it played a significant role in her personal life, as well as in her film career.
Mike Todd, Eddie Fisher and Liz’s conversion to Judaism
In 1957, Jewish producer and promotor Mike Todd (whose real name was Avrom Goldbogen) was captivated by a then-25-year-old actress, Elizabeth Taylor, who had already had a long film career, shooting to fame with her star role in “National Velvet” when she was only 12.
By the time Taylor met Todd she had already been married twice before – to hotel magnate Nicky Hilton and British actor Michael Wilding.
Todd though, swept Taylor, with his charm and they married in Mexico in February 1957.
The marriage was attended by Taylor’s parents, Francis and Sara, as well as Todd’s best friend, singer Eddie Fisher, along with Fisher’s wife, actress Debbie Reynolds.
Unfortunately, the union (of which Elizabeth Taylor has said that of all her eight marriages, the ones to Todd and Richard Burton were the most meaningful) didn’t last long as Mike Todd was killed in a plane crash only one month after they were married. He was en route to New York from Los Angeles to attend a Friars Club testimonial dinner in his honour when his plane crashed in New Mexico while it was trying to fly through a storm – killing all onboard.
Ironically, Elizabeth was spared as she had a bad cold and was advised against the trip and chose to stay home.
In her bereavement, she sought out Todd’s best friend, Eddie Fisher.
With both of them seeking understanding and love over the loss of his friend and her husband, feelings went from comfort to love for one another.
The tide had turned and the dutiful widow had now become known as a home wrecker, upsetting the boundaries of America’s perfect couple, Eddie Fisher and pert Debbie Reynolds.
Prior to this though, Elizabeth had begun exploring Judaism during her brief marriage to Mike Todd.
To navigate her through this journey of discovery, Elizabeth studied with Rabbi Max Nussbaum.
In 1959, Elizabeth Taylor and Eddie Fisher were married in a civil and a Jewish ceremony – thus cementing her conversion to Judaism. Here is a photo showing Elizabeth with the Katuba (Jewish marriage certificate).
Discussing her long standing dream of conversion and finally realizing it, Taylor said, “It has nothing to do with any marriage plans. This is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time,” she told reporters.
For her conversion Elizabeth adopted the Hebrew name Elisheba Rachel, thus beginning her long devotion to Jewish causes, education and charitable causes.
“Cleopatra”
In perhaps her most famous role, as Cleopatra – in the film of the same name, because of her strong support for Israel, Elizabeth Taylor was not allowed into Egypt in 1962, where the film was scheduled to be partially shot.
As well, Arab nations also banned the showing of any of her films as a result of her conversion to Judaism.
That didn’t matter to Taylor – she could’t have cared less.
Ironically, Egyptians themselves were not able to see the movie about perhaps the most famous Egyptian of all time!
Eventually though, all was forgiven when, in September 1979 – following the signing of a peace accord between Egypt and Israel earlier that year, actress Elizabeth Taylor and 11 Israelis were honoured guests at the Fourth Cairo international Film Festival, which also marked the ending of the cultural boycott of Israel by Egypt.
It was during the festival that Elizabeth Taylor had a sit down with Egyptian President Anwar Sadat – at the presidential rest house in the Suez Canal city of Ismailia.
Devotion to Israel and the Jewish people
In my Elizabeth Taylor collection of over 100 catalogued binders with over 20,000 photos I document many instances of her devotion to Israel and the Jewish people.
In August 1975 Elizabeth Taylor, along with her then husband Richard Burton visited Israel.
A very meaningful moment occurred when Taylor touched the Wailing Wall in silent meditation.
In June of 1976 Elizabeth Taylor was honoured by the American Jewish Congress as an artist and humanitarian for her work in founding The Israeli War Victims Fund after the 1973 Yom Kippur War.
She was presented with her citation by Israeli Ambassador Shimcha Dinitz. Also pictured in a photo at the event is the President of the Congress, Rabbi Arthur Hertzberg.
It was around the same time as that event when she attended a reception where she met with Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in New York.
Begin referred to Elizabeth Taylor as a “good friend.”
Was that on a personal level or as a strong supporter of Israel?
I tend to believe it was the latter.
In 1977 Elizabeth received the Women’s Division of B’nai Brith’s humanitarian award at a special luncheon held by the Antidefamation League at New York’s St. Regis Hotel.
In May of 1979 Elizabeth attended the Israeli Bonds Dinner in New York.
As of 1979, Elizabeth Taylor had visited the State of Israel five times.
Elizabeth Taylor in films that had Jewish connections
“Love is Better Than Ever”
During the making of 1952’s “Love is Better Than Ever,” Elizabeth Taylor had just annulled her first marriage to Hilton Hotel heir Nicky Hilton when she became involved with the Jewish director of the film, Stanley Donen.
Elizabeth’s mother Sara is reported to have been unhappy and objected to the alliance due to the fact that Donen was Jewish.
“Ivanhoe”
In the 1952 film “Ivanhoe,” Elizabeth played the Jewish character Rebecca. One of the themes the film documents is antisemitism among the Normans and Ivanhoe’s friendship with the wealthy Jew Isaac and his daughter Rebecca.
“Victory at Entebbe”
On December 13, 1976, the movie “Victory at Entebbe” was aired on television in the U.S. The movie was based on true events surrounding the hijacking of Air France Flight 139 by Palestinian terrorists. The flight had departed from Tel Aviv and was headed to Paris when hijackers forced it to divert to Entebbe Airport in Uganda.
The story was close to Elizabeth’s heart and she said she participated in her small role as Edra Vilnovsky in “Victory at Entebbe” for the sake of her fellow Jewish people.
In the film she and costar Kirk Douglas played the Jewish parents of a 16-year-old girl held hostage at Entebbe.
An interesting side note worth mentioning is that Kirk Douglas was supposed to be on the same plane as Mike Todd the night it crashed in 1958. Douglas’s wife Anne had a strange premonition Kirk shouldn’t go on that flight. Fortunately for Anne Douglas, she was right.
“Genocide”
“Genocide” was a 1981 film released by the Simon Wiesenthal Centre. Writing in the New York Times, reviewer Janet Maslin noted that “Miss Taylor, whose narration is particularly simple and affecting, reads letters from victims of the Nazis, farewell to friends and loved ones and horrifying accounts by first hand observers.”
A reviewer in Variety commented that “ Genocide gains its greatest force as a film via Elizabeth Taylor’s emotional voice over of personal testimony by witnesses to the Holocaust terrors.
“A moving performance by Taylor conveys in human terms about a sober rendering of mere facts and figures cannot”.
The Krupp Diamond
Here’s another irony to Elizabeth Taylor’s life: In 1968 Richard Burton bought the famous Krupp diamond as a gift for his then-wife, Elizabeth Taylor.
This 33.19 carat stone was owned by Vera Krupp, whose husband was a Nazi munitions magnate.
Taylor described the the acquisition thusly: “I think it fitting and charming that a nice little Jewish girl like me has ended up with the Baron’s rock.”
In closing
Elizabeth Taylor’s love and fierce dedication to Judaism is something to be admired as she put her heart and soul into the many Jewish causes she supported.
When Elizabeth Taylor passed away on March 23, 2011 she was buried as per Jewish ritual.
May her memory be a blessing
About the author:
Throughout his life Hannon Bell has had many interests and passions.
As an actor he has performed on stage, on film, and on radio.
As a singer and songwriter he has written over 26 songs and won two lyric awards from the American Song Festival.
As a model in his younger days he won a TV commercial award at the Modelling Association of America Convention and Competition in NYC. The award was given to him by Christie Brinkley.
But, more than anything Hannon Bell is probably best known as the owner of the world’s largest collection of Elizabeth Taylor memorabilia.
It all started when, as a teenager in 1963, Bell saw the film “Cleopatra.”
HIs passion turned into a lifelong dedication so much so that Bell is considered an expert on all things Elizabeth Taylor.
Having compiled and catalogued Taylor’s life and career in over 100 binders with over 20,000 photos and more, Bell has earned a reputation as not only a huge fan of Elizabeth Taylor, but also an expert on her life and career.
He has been consulted as a source by authors Kitty Kelly and C. David Heymann, both of whom have written biographies of Elizabeth Taylor.
Bell has been mentioned or featured in: People, Look, Scoop, the National Enquirer, Midnight Magazine, Toronto Star, Vancouver Sun, Winnipeg Tribune, Winnipeg Free Press and Winnipeg Sun.
He has written four songs about Elizabeth Taylor and, according to author C. David Heymann, was the inspiration for the naming of Passion Perfume in 1987. In a letter Taylor wrote to Bell in 1975, she asked him to send her two of his custom T Shirts that had on them the inscription: “HANNON’S PASSION – ELIZABETH TAYLOR.”
After working with Heymann on his biography of Taylor, titled “LIZ,” Hemanann sent Hannon a copy of the book with the signed inscription,”to Hannon, who has the finest Elizabeth Taylor collection in the world.”
Features
Previews of this year’s Fringe Festival shows that have some sort of Jewish connection (no matter how tenuous)
By BERNIE BELLAN (originally posted July 12, amended July 14 & 15) As has been our custom for many years now we try to find shows that have either Jewish performers, themes that would have particular appeal for Jewish audiences…or simply shows where someone contacted me and asked for a plug!
This year’s Fringe Festival runs from July 15-26. For show dates and venues go to winnipegfringe.com.
In no particular order here are blurbs about the shows we’ve found that fit our somewhat arbitrary criteria. (By they way, if we’ve omitted a show that should be included in our list there’s plenty of time to get added to this post. Just drop me a line at jewishp@mymts.net.)
One of the Fringe’s perennial favourites, Alli Perlov is back yet again making great fun of a very popular movie – in this case it’s “Toy Story.”
Here’s what the blurb in the progam says about her show:
Adam Schwartz first appeared at the Winnipeg Fringe Festival in 2013 – in a one-man show. Since then, Adam has gone on to appear in – and produce shows featuring other neurodiverse artists in succeeding years. Adam wrote us: “This summer I am shooting my comedy special. This is a project I’ve been working on for 16 years and I believe is the first Canadian autistic comedy special exploring life. It explores issues like early and late diagnosis, support workers as well as accommodation I have received.”
Another veteran performer on the Fringe circuit, Melanie Gall is returning for her 13th season at the Winnipeg Fringe Festival.
Randy Ross is also back this year. Here’s what Randy wrote us: “I’ll be back at the Winnipeg fringe in July with a new show, ‘How Much Can You Change for Someone You Love?’
Winnipegger Nicholas Rice is a veteran of the Winnipeg theatre scene. He has appeared in five Winnipeg Jewish Theatre productions over the years. This year will mark Nicholas’s second time appearing in a Winnipeg Fringe Festival show. His first appearance, two years ago, was in a show also called “A Side of Rice” but, in chatting with Nicholas he told me this new show,”Another Side of Rice,” will be completely different from that first show.
During the show, Nicholas said, he “will tell three different stories” from different parts of his life. The first story will relate an experience he had at Sir John Franklin School (which no longer exits). The second story will be about an experience Nicholas had while teaching in Toronto where, he says, one of his students, upon finding out Nicholas was Jewish, told him that he “would burn in hell.”
The third story will also be set in Toronto. The show will last 70 minutes, Nicholas added.
Rudi stands outside his father’s study in Paraguay, struggling to find the courage to go in. It’s been seven years since he left after uncovering the truth: that his father was a doctor at Auschwitz.
Haunted by a past he didn’t create but can’t escape, Rudi is forced to grapple with the legacy of his father’s crimes and search for a way to live with the weight of inherited guilt. Another tour-de-force script from acclaimed Canadian playwright Hannah Moscovitch, whose powerful and provocative work continues to captivate audiences worldwide.
On July 15 we received an email from someone by the name of Jillian Birdie Burke. Here’s part of what Burdie wrote: “My name is Birdie Burke, I am a Jewish artist and I’m one of the producers and performers of A Kid Napping, a new comedy is coming to the Winnipeg, Saskatoon, and Victoria Fringe Festivals this summer – from the same duo who brought you last year’s award-winning BRAIN.
“ Kid Napping follows two well-meaning but wildly incompetent ex-convicts whose kidnapping plan goes spectacularly wrong when they accidentally find themselves caring for a room full of kindergarteners.
“As part of the production, we’re also donating proceeds from our sales to local children’s organizations in each city we visit.
“For Winnipeg we’ll be focusing on Rossbrook Kids and the Rainbow Resources team.”
Okay – now here is where we start to get away from previewing Jewish performers, but I’ll explain in each case why I’ve included a particular show.
Safe Sex is a collection of three one-act plays written by Harvey Fierstein who is Jewish, but had said that “although he does not believe in God, he prays three or four times each day.”
“As one of the first openly gay celebrities in the United States, Fierstein helped turn gay and lesbian life into a viable subject for contemporary drama.”
Now, since Harvey Fierstein grew up in New York – a very Jewish city, when we were contacted by someone by the name of Charlie Hume who said he was an actor and producer with a company called Starr Street Productions – based in New York City, we had to ask him whether there was any Jewish connection?
Charlie replied: “Perhaps unfortunately, the show is written and performed by Catholics. I would say that our company’s greatest connection to Judaism is that we all studied together at The Lee Strasberg Theater and Film Institute. Lee Strasberg- if you’re not familiar- was a legendary Jewish acting coach who was instrumental in revolutionizing theater and the performing arts in New York City and beyond. We walk in the footsteps of Lee and many other Jewish cultural leaders, who have long been among the most steadfast supporters of the arts in America.”
Well, that’s good enough for me. Here’s a description of their play:
Finally – and this one really is a stretch – three days ago we were speaking to Reverend Don James, who is the National Development Director at Bridges for Peace (an organization that has close ties to our Jewish community) when Don happened to mention that his daughter, Hilary, is producing a Fringe show that has something to do with a Fleetwood Mac record album. (Apparently Don had never heard of “Rumors” because he didn’t know what the name of the album was. Oy!)
So I said to Don: “Have your daugher contact me and I’ll give her a blurb.” Well, she hasn’t contacted me yet, but I’m giving her a blurb – whether she wants one or not!
