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A Holocaust survivor and her family saw ‘Leopoldstadt.’ The Broadway play told their story.
(New York Jewish Week) — On a Wednesday evening last month, three generations of a Jewish family made their way to their seats at the Longacre Theater to see “Leopoldstadt,” Tom Stoppard’s epic Broadway play about the tragedies that befall an extended Jewish family in the first half of the 20th century in Vienna.
The date of the family gathering was a significant one: Nov. 9, the 84th anniversary of the Nazi pogroms known as Kristallnacht. And in the audience was Fini Konstat, 96, who lived in the once thriving Jewish neighborhood after which the play is named, and witnessed the horrors it portrays first-hand. Alongside her were her daughter and her son-in-law, Renee and James Akers, and her oldest great-grandchild, Lexi Levin, 23.
When Konstat was a child, she lived in a “nice apartment” in Leopoldstadt. But exactly 84 years to the day of their theater date, “I was running with my father, seeing all the Jewish stores with all their windows broken,” she told Levin in a short video her great-granddaughter filmed before the curtain rose.
“It’s such a blessing for me to be here with you,” Levin said to her great-grandmother in response. “Ninety-six years old, survived a pandemic, at a Broadway show in New York City.”
Left: Fini as a child on the balcony of her apartment in Leopoldstadt. Right: Fini with her three children in front of the very same building, pictured in 2015. (Courtesy)
Since the beginning of its Broadway run in mid-September, “Leopoldstadt,” with its depiction of a prosperous Viennese family on the brink of destruction, has moved audiences to tears and inspired deep reflections on the Holocaust. Based on the celebrated playwright’s own family history — of which he was barely aware while growing up in England — it has provided a stark counterpoint to news about rising antisemitism and the celebrities who have been purveying it.
But for Konstat, the play was much more personal. “When I heard the word ‘Leopoldstadt,’ this alone gave me lots of thrills and memories,” Konstat, who is known in her family as Mimi, told the New York Jewish Week in accented English. She recalled how Levin, who recently moved to the city, invited her to fly to New York to see one of Broadway’s hottest tickets.
“Leopoldstadt,” she repeated, her voice breaking. “The second district. That’s where we lived.”
At the end of Stoppard’s five-act play, audiences learn that most of the Jewish characters had perished under the Nazis — of the four generations in the show, just three cousins survive to carry on the family’s legacy.
For Konstat too, she and her parents were among the very few in their extended family to survive the Holocaust. “Almost all of them went to Auschwitz or other camps,” Konstat said. “My mother was a twin and only the twins remained alive. [My mother’s] five other siblings and my grandmother perished.”
L-R: Renee Akers, James Akers, Lexi Levin and Fini Konstat at the Longacre Theater to see Tom Stoppard’s ‘Leopoldstadt on Broadway,’ Nov. 9, 2022. (Courtesy)
In a Zoom conversation held over Thanksgiving weekend, Konstat, surrounded by two of her daughters, two of her granddaughters and three of her great-granddaughters, shared what the play meant to her — and how her family has restored what she lost.
In the months after Kristallnacht in 1938, Konstat and her parents hid in a neighbor’s apartment; Konstat recalls hiding under the duvet when German soldiers showed up. Eventually the family fled to Turkey, and then to India, before settling down in Mexico City. There, the teenage Fini met her husband David, also a survivor who escaped Poland. The two of them began to write the rest of their story — starting with the birth of the first of their three children in 1948.
Unlike many Holocaust survivors, Fini and David Konstat were open about their experiences during the war, instilling a sense of pride and duty to remember in their children — something that eventually extended to their grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
“They were proud to speak about how they survived this,” said the Konstats’ middle child, Renee Konstat Akers. “Their life was an odyssey. They had the courage to do things that you would never think were possible. We grew up grateful knowing how our family survived in that incredible way.”
Each child moved to different places as they grew up and got married. Manuel, the oldest, stayed in Mexico. Renee married an American and moved to the Midwest, and Denise, the youngest, to Houston. Each became deeply involved in their Jewish communities, sending their children (Konstat’s grandchildren) to Jewish day schools, celebrating Jewish holidays and participating in synagogue life.
“The word ‘miracle’ really does not feel like an understatement in this scenario,” said Sherry Levin, one of Konstat’s grandchildren. “When we think about what it took for my grandmother and grandfather to survive and how they were able to intersect in Mexico, and such an amazing multi-generational family has come to fruition, it feels miraculous.”
Pictured here on their 40th anniversary, Fini and her husband David met in Mexico City after both had fled Europe. They were married 54 years before David died in 2001. (Courtesy)
Reviews of the show have ranged from rhapsodic to resistant, with some critics suggesting the play is simplistic and obvious in its story-telling or that it is less a well-crafted play than a well-meaning lesson on the Holocaust.
But just as the Merz family clashes and argues about everything from antisemitism to intermarriage to socialism in “Leopoldstadt,” each generation of the Konstat family that saw “Leopoldstadt” that night came away with something different — a reaction influenced by their age, their Jewish identity, their nationality and their relationship with their family.
For Konstat, the arc of “Leopoldstadt” was so familiar that it hardly stirred her. “It was just very happy watching it and enjoying it and enjoying my children with me, “ she told the New York Jewish Week. “I didn’t think about anybody else.”
Akers, too, felt an intense familiarity with the story, and, perhaps toughened by her own family history, didn’t experience an intense emotional reaction. Her own parents’ lives gave Akers a sense of purpose in her life — for example, in the 1990s, she was passionate about helping resettle Jews fleeing the former Soviet Union. With her own children, she instilled in them a strong sense of Jewish purpose in their work, their education and their family.
“I was a sandwich in between seeing my mother and my granddaughter,” she said of her “Leopoldstadt” experience. “I was emotional thinking of my mom who went through it, but I was more emotional about seeing my granddaughter be so moved. It really hit her at her core.”
Indeed, it was the youngest member of the family present that night who was most shaken by the play.
“It really felt like a gift to my family and to me, specifically, to be able to see what Mimi’s life looked like before the war,” Lexi Levin said, surmising that, as a fourth-generation survivor, she is among the first in her family to be able to start processing the loss on a grander scale.
“For the first time in my life, I really felt the magnitude of her loss,” she added. “I’ve known her story and I’ve been inspired by her story to be involved with my own Jewish causes, but I have never been able to access and truly empathize with her grief and what it meant that she lost the entire family she had before this one that she created.”
Turning to her great-grandmother, as if trying to make her understand the exact precision of the show, Levin explained, “It’s a play about generations and the family was large and then it was small.”
“You made it large again,” she said, referring to the generations of family that had assembled — in the Broadway theater and again over Thanksgiving weekend. “Look at this room.”
Pictured on her 90th birthday in 2017, Fini Konstat now has three children, ten grandchildren and twenty great-grandchildren. (Courtesy)
There was a coda for the family after the curtain went down. The day after the show, the family wanted to see the 1907 “Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I,” one of Gustav Klimt’s most famous paintings, which currently hangs at the Neue Galerie on the Upper East Side. A version of the portrait’s true story — how a painting of a socialite from a prominent Viennese Jewish family was looted by the Nazis and the family’s efforts to get it back — features in the plot of “Leopoldstadt.”
The gallery, however, was closed on the only day the family could visit. After a call to the management at the gallery, which showcases the German and Austrian art collections of Jewish philanthropist Ronald S. Lauder, the gallery’s director arranged a private tour.
“It felt like we were in a puzzle and everything was finally coming together,” said Akers. “It was an emotional, emotional time.”
When the week was over and the emotions were spent, Konstat and the Akers returned home with a reignited passion for their family story. But there was yet another twist: In addition to the whirlwind trip Levin planned for her grandparents and for Mimi, she had been undergoing the laborious process of applying for Austrian citizenship. Six members in Konstat’s large family have undertaken the process over the last two years.
“Part of the motivation was knowing Mimi’s story, and knowing that she survived because her mother had citizenship in Turkey,” Levin said. “That story was just inspirational to me, knowing that dual citizenship was what saved our family.” She convinced her brother and mother to apply for Austrian citizenship as well.
The day after her grandmother and great-grandmother left New York, Levin called them with news from her small apartment in Manhattan: An Austrian passport had arrived in the mail. The curtain was rising on another act.
Konstat was surprised at how interested her family was in getting Austrian citizenship. “I feel very good,” she said. “I’m very happy.”
“Does it make you emotional?” Levin asked her during the Zoom call with the New York Jewish Week.
“It does — of course it does. I used to love Austria,” she said. “I was sad to leave. I was disappointed. We never thought of coming back. I was happy to be able to escape. Thank God we made it out of hell.”
—
The post A Holocaust survivor and her family saw ‘Leopoldstadt.’ The Broadway play told their story. appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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The cafe as a refuge of Jewish culture
די ייִדישע ליטעראַטור האָט אַ היפּשע צאָל בולטע אימאַזשן פֿון קאַפֿע־הײַזער: מנחם–מענדלס שילדערונג פֿון „קאַפֿע פֿאַנקאָני‟ אין אָדעס; די ניו־יאָרקער „קיביזאַרנע‟ און „קאַפֿע–ראָיאַל‟ אױפֿן איסט–סײַד.
אָפֿט לײענט מען די דאָזיקע באַשרײַבונגען װי טשיקאַװע עפּיזאָדן, אָבער אין דער אמתן איז דאָס קאַװע־הױז געװען אַ װיכטיקע קולטורעלע אינסטיטוציע, בפֿרט ערבֿ דער צװײטער װעלט־מלחמה. דאָס בוך פֿון פּראָפֿעסאָר שחר פּינסקער, ”A Rich Brew“ [אַ גוט געקאָכטע קאַווע] האָט אַן אַמביציעזן אונטערקעפּל: „װי אַזױ די קאַפֿע־הײַזער האָבן געשאַפֿן די מאָדערנע ייִדישע קולטור‟. װען מען לײענט איבער דעם װאָגיקן באַנד זעט מען בפֿירוש, אַז די קאַפֿע־הײַזער אין אײראָפּע, אַמעריקע און ארץ־ישׂראל זײַנען געװען זײער אַ פּראָדוקטיװ אָרט, װוּ מען האָט געשריבן, געלײענט, געשמועסט און אַ סך זיך געאַמפּערט װעגן דער מאָדערנער ייִדישער קולטור.
די ליבע־געשיכטע צװישן ייִדן און קאַפֿע־הײַזער הײבט זיך אָן אין בערלין אינעם אַכצנטן יאָרהונדערט. „דאָס געלערנטע קאַפֿע־הױז‟ איז געװען אַ נײַער לאָקאַל, װוּ די בערלינער אינטעליגענץ האָט זיך געקאָנט טרעפֿן, לײענען צײַטונגען, שפּילן שאַך און שמועסן. צװישן די אַרײַנגײער אין דעם קאַפֿע־הױז איז געװען משה מענדלסאָן, דער „פֿאָטער‟ פֿון דער בערלינער השׂכּלה. קאַװע איז געװען כּשר און דאָס קאַפֿע־הױז האָט ניט געהאַט קײן קריסטלעכן טעם. דװקא דאָ האָט מענדלסאָן פֿאַרטראַכט זײַנע פּובליקאַציעס, װאָס זײַנען געװאָרן די בימה פֿאַר זײַנע משׂכּילישע אידעען.
די בלי־תּקופֿה פֿון ייִדישע קאַפֿעען האָט געדױערט פֿון סוף-19טן יאָרהונדערט ביזן חורבן. פּינסקער פֿירט דעם לײענער אױף אַ רײַזע איבער די װיכטיקסטע צענטערס פֿון דער מאָדערנער ייִדישער קולטור: אָדעס, װאַרשע, װין, בערלין, ניו–יאָרק און תּל־אָבֿיבֿ. ער האָט באַאַרבעט אַ ריזיקן מאַטעריאַל פֿון פֿאַרשידנאַרטיקע מקורים און אים מגולגל געװען אין אַ פֿאַרכאַפּנדיקער לעקטור. דאָס דאָזיקע בוך װעט זײַן סײַ ניצלעך פֿאַר די פּראָפֿעסיאָנעלע פֿאָרשער פֿון ייִדישער און העברעיִשער קולטור און ליטעראַטור, סײַ אינטערעסאַנט פֿאַרן ברײטן עולם.
דער װאַרשעװער „פֿאַראײן פֿון ייִדישע ליטעראַטן און זשורנאַליסטן‟ אױף טלאָמאַצקע 13 איז געװען דער סאַמע באַרימטסטער ייִדישער ליטעראַרישער קלוב, באַשריבן אין צענדליקער זכרונות און בעלעטריסטישע װערק. אָבער דאָס איז ניט געװען דאָס ערשטע ייִדישע קאַפֿע־הױז אין װאַרשע. קאַפֿעען זײַנען געװאָרן פּאָפּולער אינעם אָנהײב צװאַנציקסטן יאָרהונדערט, װען װאַרשע איז געװאָרן אַ מאַגנעט פֿאַר אָרעמע יונגע אינטעליגענטן, און בפֿרט ליטװאַקעס. אײניקע פֿון זײ האָבן געחלומט װעגן אַ ליטעראַרישער קאַריערע אױף ייִדיש אָדער העברעיִש. זײ האָבן זיך געפֿילט הײמיש בײַ יחזקאל קאָטיקן, דעם מחבר פֿון באַרימטע זכרונות װעגן דעם ייִדישן לעבן אין רוסלאַנד אינעם נײַצנטן יאָרהונדערט. מען פֿלעגט דאָ זיצן שעהען לאַנג און לײענען צײַטונגען, שמועסן װעגן ליטעראַטור און פּאָליטיק און אַפֿילו פֿירן געשעפֿטן. דערצו נאָך זײַנען די קאַפֿע–הײַזער װינטערצײַט געװען װאַרעם, װאָס איז אױך געװען װיכטיק פֿאַר די אָרעמע באַזוכער.
אָן װאַרשעװער קאַפֿעען, און על–אחת–כּמה–וכמה אָן דעם שרײַבערקלוב אױף טלאָמאַצקע 13, װאָלט די ייִדישע ליטעראַטור אַװדאי געװען אָרעמער און שיטערער. פּינסקערס בוך איז װי אַ מין ייִדישע ליטעראַטור־געשיכטע, װאָס באַטראַכט די טעמע פֿונעם שטאַנדפּונקט פֿון קאַפֿע־טישן. די װאַרשעװער קאַפֿעען זײַנען געװען װיכטיק ניט נאָר פֿאַר „ייִדישע‟ ייִדן, נאָר אױך פֿאַר אַזעלכע, װאָס האָבן געשריבן אױף פּױליש, װי יוליאַן טובֿים אָדער אַנטאָני סלאָנימסקי.
דער עפּילאָג פֿון דער װאַרשעװער ייִדישער קאַפֿע־קולטור האָט זיך אױסגעשפּילט אינעם געטאָ, װוּ עס זײַנען אױך געװען עטלעכע קאַפֿעען: „דער געטאָ־קאַפֿע איז אַ קאָמפּליצירטער אָרט פֿון קאָלאַבאָראַציע, קולטורעלן לעבן, קאָמערץ און עליטיזם,‟ שליסט פּינסקער זײַן קאַפּיטל װעגן װאַרשע.
אין װין און בערלין זײַנען געצײלטע קאַפֿעען געװאָרן אַ מקום־מקלט פֿאַר ייִדישע אימיגראַנטן און פּליטים, װאָס זײַנען לרובֿ געקומען נאָך דער ערשטער װעלט־מלחמה. די דאָזיקע דײַטשיש–רעדנדיקע הױפּטשטעט האָבן צו יענער צײַט שױן געהאַט פֿאַרמאָגט אַ רײַכע קולטור פֿון ליטעראַרישע און קינסטלערישע קאַפֿעען. בײַ אַ סך ייִדישע ליטעראַטן זײַנען די קאַפֿעען געװאָרן „סטאַנציעס אױף דעם טראַנס־נאַציאָנאַלן זײַדן־װעג‟ פֿון עמיגראַציע, װאָס האָט זײ סוף־כּל–סוף געבראַכט קײן אַמעריקע אָדער ישׂראל. דערבײַ האָבן זײ מיטגעבראַכט שטיקלעך פֿון דער דאָזיקער קולטור מעבֿר־לים, קײן ניו־יאָרק און תּל־אָבֿיבֿ. די ניו־יאָרקער קאַפֿעען װערן געשילדערט אין דער אַמעריקאַנער ייִדישער ליטעראַטור, װי למשל „שלומס קאַפֿע‟ אין דוד איגנאַטאָװס ראָמאַן „אין קעסלגרוב‟. איגנאַטאָװ שילדערט דעם דאָזיקן לאָקאַל װי אַן „אָרט פֿון קאָנפֿראָנטאַציע צװישן פֿאַרשידענע השׂגות װעגן דער ייִדישער ליטעראַטור‟. ניט װײניק הײסע סיכסוכים האָט מען דאָ געפֿירט אױך װעגן דער ראַדיקאַלער פּאָליטיק.
צום שלוס שרײַבט פּינסקער: „די שטאָטישע קאַפֿעען האָבן געדינט ניט נאָר װי צענטערס פֿון מיגראַנטישע קולטורעלע נעצװערק, אָבער אױך װי אַ מקום–מקלט פֿאַר הײמלאָזע מענטשן, פֿאַר קאָסמאָפּאָליטישער פֿילשפּראַכיקײט, װאָס איז געװען אין געפֿאַר פֿון צעשטערונג מצד די נאַציאָנאַליסטישע אידעאָלאָגיעס.‟ אָבער הײַנט, איז פּינסקער משער, שפּילן די קאַפֿען מער נישט אַזאַ חשובֿע קולטורעלע ראָלע. „פֿײסבוק‟ און אַנדערע װירטועלע לאָקאַלן האָבן איצט פֿאַרנומען זײער אָרט.
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Iran Loses Contact With Palestinian Terror Proxies Amid US-Israel Strikes: Report
Smoke rises following an explosion, after Israel and the US launched strikes on Iran, in Tehran, Iran, March 3, 2026. Photo: Majid Asgaripour/WANA (West Asia News Agency) via REUTERS
The Israeli-American offensive targeting Iran’s military and security apparatus has led to a loss of communications between the Iranian regime and its Palestinian terrorist proxies, according to a new report.
Palestinian factions both in and outside of Gaza, especially Hamas and Islamic Jihad, have lost contact with Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) since the US and Israel began launching large-scale strikes against Iran this past weekend, the Arabic newspaper Asharq Al-Awsat reported on Tuesday.
It remains unclear whether the IRGC officials responsible for dealing with the Palestinian terrorist groups were killed in the strikes or are operating with special safety measures. However, sources told Asharq Al-Awsat that the Iranian commanders conveyed messages in different ways during last June’s 12-day war with Israel, indicating a disruption in reliable communication channels during the current conflict.
The US and Israel have killed dozens of top Iranian officials over the past few days of military action.
“Normally, messages are transmitted in encrypted ways, either electronically or in other ways. Since the beginning of this war, no messages have been received,” the Palestinian sources said.
Iran has long supported and expanded its regional network by providing financial and military assistance to its terrorist proxy groups, including the Houthis in Yemen, Hamas and Islamic Jihad in Gaza, and Hezbollah in Lebanon, among others.
Palestinian factions — particularly Palestinian Islamic Jihad and smaller groups — have been facing a severe financial crisis for months amid a sharp decline in Iranian support, as Tehran grapples with mounting international sanctions and domestic crises that have constrained its ability to sustain funding, arming, and training for its terrorist networks.
Even prior to the Israeli-American strikes, Palestinian sources told Asharq Al-Awsat that they feared “the collapse of the Iranian regime, which would mean the end of support without return.”
The consequences are expected to be significant but less severe for Hamas, which has been ramping up efforts to rebuild its military capabilities and maintain tight control inside the Gaza Strip through a brutal crackdown on internal opposition, reflecting its broader network of support compared with Islamic Jihad and other smaller factions that remain heavily dependent on Iranian backing.
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Support for Israel, Trump Gaza Peace Plan Remains High Among US Voters, New Poll Finds
Pro-Israel rally in Times Square, New York City, US, Oct. 8, 2023. Photo: REUTERS/Jeenah Moon
A new national survey suggests that American support for Israel remains resilient overall but with notable generational divides that could shape the future political landscape.
According to the February 2026 Harvard CAPS / Harris Poll, strong majorities of US registered voters back policies aligned with Israel’s security posture and express approval of President Donald Trump’s handling of the conflict in Gaza. At the same time, the data shows that support for Israel fluctuates significantly depending on age.
Notably, the survey was conducted last week on Wednesday and Thursday, just before the US and Israel launched their military campaign against Iran over the weekend.
Among respondents, 73 percent of voters say they support Trump’s Gaza deal framework. The proposal, aimed at restructuring governance and stabilizing post-war conditions in Gaza, commands bipartisan backing in the poll’s toplines.
The plan calls for the dismantling of Hamas’s military and political control, the establishment of an interim administrative authority backed by regional Arab partners, and a major internationally funded reconstruction effort. Trump has also emphasized expanding normalization between Israel and Arab states, building on the Abraham Accords, as a cornerstone of long-term stability, while maintaining Israel’s security oversight during a transitional period.
Voters appear to prioritize stability and deterrence, responding favorably to an approach framed around preventing Hamas from reasserting control and reinforcing Israel’s long-term security.
The poll shows that a clear majority of Americans continue to side with Israel over Hamas and support Israel’s right to defend itself. However, support levels vary considerably by age group.
Older voters, particularly those over 55, show the strongest pro-Israel sentiment, with large majorities backing Israel’s military actions and expressing sympathy with Israel over the Palestinians. Voters between 35 and 54 also lean pro-Israel, though by narrower margins.
The sharpest contrast appears among younger voters. Americans under 35 remain more divided, with significantly lower levels of sympathy toward Israel and greater skepticism about its military campaign in Gaza. While even in this group Israel retains meaningful support, the margins are slimmer and opposition more vocal.
The generational gap reflects broader cultural and media consumption differences, as well as the impact of campus activism and social media narratives. Yet the topline remains clear: despite softness among younger voters, Israel continues to command majority support nationwide.
Further, strong and stable majorities support Israel over the Hamas terrorist group. According to the survey, 71 percent of Americans support Israel over Hamas. However, support for Israel heavily fractures along age lines. Per the poll, 82 percent of those over 55 years old support Israel, compared to only 62 percent between the ages 35-44. However, a striking 58 percent of those between the ages 18-24 support Hamas over Israel, indicating a groundswell of backing for a foreign terrorist organization among American youth.
In the nearly two-and-a-half years following the Hamas-led Oct. 7, 2023, massacre across southern Israel, support for the Jewish state has seen significant declines across political and age lines in the US. Younger Americans, particularly, have largely turned against Israel. The increasingly tense relationship between Israel and US voters has become a flashpoint in Democratic primaries, with liberal political hopefuls increasingly vowing not to accept support from the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC), the preeminent pro-Israel lobbying group in the US.
The February poll was conducted among 1,999 registered voters, with a margin of error of ±2 percentage points.