Uncategorized
Letty Cottin Pogrebin wants Jews to own up to the corrosive power of shame
(JTA) — When a lawyer for Donald Trump asked E. Jean Carroll why she didn’t scream while allegedly being raped by Donald Trump, I thought of Letty Cottin Pogrebin. In her latest book, “Shanda: A Memoir of Shame and Secrecy,” she writes about being assaulted by a famous poet — and how the shadow of shame kept women like her silent about attacks on their own bodies.
That incident in 1962, she writes, was “fifty-eight years before the #MeToo movement provided the sisterhood and solidarity that made survivors of abuse and rape feel safe enough to tell their stories.”
Now 83, Pogrebin could have coasted with a memoir celebrating her six decades as a leading feminist: She co-founded Ms. magazine, its Foundation for Women and the National Women’s Political Caucus. She served as president of Americans for Peace Now and in 1982 blew the whistle on antisemitism in the feminist movement.
Instead, “Shanda” is about her immigrant Jewish family and the secrets they carried through their lives. First marriages that were kept hidden. An unacknowledged half-sister. Money problems and domestic abuse. An uncle banished for sharing family dirt in public.
“My mania around secrecy and shame was sparked in 1951 by the discovery that my parents had concealed from me the truth about their personal histories, and every member of my large extended family, on both sides, was in on it,” writes Pogrebin, now 83. “Their need to avoid scandal was so compelling that, once identified, it provided the lens through which I could see my family with fresh eyes, spotlight their fears, and, in so doing, illuminate my own.”
“Shanda” (the Yiddish word describes the kind of behavior that brings shame on an entire family or even a people) is also a portrait of immigrant New York Jews in the 20th century. As her father and mother father move up in the world and leave their Yiddish-speaking, Old World families behind for new lives in the Bronx and Queens, they stand in for a generation of Jews and new Americans “bent on saving face and determined to be, if not exemplary, at least impeccably respectable.”
Pogrebin and I spoke last week ahead of the Eight Over Eighty Gala on May 31, where she will be honored with a group that includes another Jewish feminist icon, the writer Erica Jong, and musician Eve Queler, who founded her own ensemble, the Opera Orchestra of New York, when she wasn’t being given chances to conduct in the male-dominated world of classical music. The gala is a fundraiser for the New Jewish Home, a healthcare nonprofit serving older New Yorkers.
Pogrebin and I spoke about shame and how it plays out in public and private, from rape accusations against a former president to her regrets over how she wrote about her own abortions to how the Bible justifies family trickery.
Our conversation was edited for length and clarity.
I found your book very moving because my parents’ generation, who like your family were middle-class Jews who grew up or lived in the New York metropolitan area, are also all gone now. Your book brought back to me that world of aunts and uncles and cousins, and kids like us who couldn’t imagine what kinds of secrets and traumas our parents and relatives were hiding. But you went back and asked all the questions that many of us are afraid to ask.
I can’t tell you how good writing it has been. I feel as though I have no weight on my back. And people who have read it gained such comfort from the normalization that happens when you read that others have been through what you’ve been through. And my family secrets are so varied — just one right after the other. The chameleon-like behavior of that generation — they became who they wanted to be through pretense or actual accomplishment.
In my mother’s case, pretense led the way. She went and got a studio photo that made it look like she graduated from high school when she didn’t. In the eighth grade, she went up to her uncle’s house in the north Bronx and had her dates pick her up there because of the shanda of where she lived on the Lower East Side with nine people in three rooms. She had to imagine herself the child of her uncle, who didn’t have an accent or had an accent but at least spoke English.
You describe yours as “an immigrant family torn between loyalty to their own kind and longing for American acceptance.”
There was the feeling that, “If only we could measure up, we would be real Americans.” My mother was a sewing machine operator who became a designer and figured out what American women wore when she came from rags and cardboard shoes, in steerage. So I admire them. As much as I was discomforted by the lies, I ended up having compassion for them.
It’s also a story of thwarted women, and all that lost potential of a generation in which few could contemplate a college degree or a career outside the home. Your mother worked for a time as a junior designer for Hattie Carnegie, a sort of Donna Karan of her day, but abandoned that after she met your dad and became, as you write, “Mrs. Jack Cottin.”
The powerlessness of women was complicated in the 1950s by the demands of the masculine Jewish ideal. So having a wife who didn’t work was proof that you were a man who could provide. As a result women sacrificed their own aspirations and passions. She protected her husband’s image by not pursuing her life outside the home. In a way my feminism is a positive, like a photograph, to the negative of my mother’s 1950s womanhood.
“I’m not an optimist. I call myself a ‘cockeyed strategist,” said Pogrebin, who has a home on the Upper West Side. (Mike Lovett)
You write that you “think of shame and secrecy as quintessentially Jewish issues.” What were the Jewish pressures that inspired your parents to tell so many stories that weren’t true?
Think about what we did. We hid behind our names. We changed our names. We sloughed off our accents. My mother learned to make My*T*Fine pudding instead of gefilte fish. Shame and secrecy have always been intrinsically Jewish to me, because of the “sha!” factor: At every supper party, there would be the moment when somebody would say, “Sha! We don’t talk about that!” So even though we talked about what felt like everything, there were things that couldn’t be touched: illness, the C-word [cancer]. If you wanted to make a shidduch [wedding match] with another family in the insular communities in which Jews lived, you couldn’t let it be known that there was cancer in the family, or mental illness.
While I was writing this memoir, I realized that the [Torah portion] I’m listening to one Shabbat morning is all about hiding. It is Jacob finding out that he didn’t marry Rachel, after all, but married somebody he didn’t love. All of the hiding that I took for granted in the Bible stories and I was raised on like mother’s milk was formative. They justified pretense, and they justified trickery. Rebecca lied to her husband and presented her younger son Jacob for the blessing because God told her, because it was for the greater good of the future the Jewish people.
I think Jews felt that same sort of way when it came to surviving. So we can get rid of our names. We wouldn’t have survived, whether we were hiding in a forest or behind a cabinet, a name or a passport, or [pushed into hiding] with [forced] conversions. Hiding was survival.
I was reading your book just as the E. Jean Carroll verdict came down, holding Donald Trump liable for sexually assaulting her during an encounter in the mid-’90s. You write how in 1962, when you were working as a book publicist, the hard-drinking Irish poet Brendan Behan (who died in 1964) tried to rape you in a hotel room and you didn’t report it. Like Carroll, you didn’t think that it was something that could be reported because the cost was too high.
Certainly in that era powerful men could get away with horrible behavior because of shanda reasons.
Carroll said in her court testimony, “It was shameful to go to the police.”
You know that it happened to so many others and nobody paid the price. The man’s reputation was intact and we kept our jobs because we sacrificed our dignity and our truth. I was in a career, and I really was supporting myself. I couldn’t afford to lose my job. I would have been pilloried for having gone to his hotel room, and nobody was there when he picked up an ashtray and threatened to break the window of the Chelsea Hotel unless I went up there with him.The cards were stacked against me.
In “Shanda,” you write about another kind of shame: The shame you now feel decades later about how you described the incident in your first book. You regret “how blithely I transformed an aggravated assault by a powerful man into a ‘sticky sexual encounter.’”
I wrote about the incident in such offhand terms, and wonder why. I wrote, basically, “Okay, girls, you’re gonna have to put up with this, but you’re gonna have to find your own magical sentence like I had with Behan” to get him to stop.
You write that you said, “You can’t do this to me! I’m a nice Jewish girl!” And that got him to back off.
Really painful.
I think that’s a powerful aspect of your book — how you look back at the ways you let down the movement or your family or friends and now regret. In 1991 you wrote a New York Times essay about an illegal abortion you had as a college senior in 1958, but not the second one you had only a few months later. While you were urging women to tell their stories of abortion, you note how a different shame kept you from telling the whole truth.
Jewish girls could be, you know, plain or ordinary, but they had to be smart, and I had been stupid. I could out myself as one of the many millions of women who had an abortion but not as a Jewish girl who made the same mistake [of getting pregnant] twice.
The book was written before the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade. In the book you write powerfully about the shame, danger and loneliness among women when abortion was illegal, and now, after 50 years, it is happening again. Having been very much part of the generation of activists that saw Roe become the law of the land, how have you processed its demise?
Since the 1970s, we thought everything was happening in this proper linear way. We got legislation passed, we had litigation and we won, and we saw the percentage of women’s participation in the workplace all across professions and trades and everything else rise and rise. And then Ronald Reagan was elected and then there was the Moral Majority and then it was the Hyde Amendment [barring the use of federal funds to pay for abortion]. I was sideswiped because I think I was naive enough to imagine that once we articulated what feminism was driving at and why women’s rights were important, and how the economic reality of families and discrimination against women weren’t just women’s issues, people would internalize it and understand it and justice would be done.
In the case of Roe, we could not imagine that rights could ever be taken away. We didn’t do something that we should have done, which is to have outed ourselves in a big way. It’s not enough that abortion was legal. We allowed it to remain stigmatized. We allowed the right wing to create their own valence around it. That negated solidarity. If we had talked about abortion as healthcare, if we had had our stories published and created organizations around remembering what it was like and people telling their stories about when abortion was illegal and dangerous…. Instead we allowed the religious right to prioritize [fetal] cells over a woman’s life. We just were not truthful with each other, so we didn’t create solidarity.
Are you heartened by the backlash against restrictive new laws in red states or optimistic that the next wave of activism can reclaim the right to abortion?
I’m not an optimist. I call myself a “cockeyed strategist.” If you look at my long resume, it is all about organizing: Ms. magazine, feminist organizations, women’s foundations, Black-Jewish dialogues, Torah study groups and Palestinian-Jewish dialogues.
Number one, we have to own the data and reframe the narrative. We have to open channels for discussion for women who have either had one or know someone who has had one, even in religious Catholic families. The state-by-state strategy was really slow, but Ruth Bader Ginsburg wanted that. She almost didn’t get on the court because she didn’t like the nationwide, right-to-privacy strategy of Roe but instead wanted it won state by state, which would have required campaigns of acceptance and consciousness-raising.
So, the irony is she hasn’t lived to see that we’re going to have to do it her way.
You share a lot of family secrets in this book. Is this a book that you waited to write until, I’ll try to put this gently, most of the people had died?
I started this book when I was 78 years old, and there’s always a connection to my major birthdays. And turning 80 – you experience that number and it is so weird. It doesn’t describe me and it probably won’t describe you. I thought, this could well be my last book, so I needed to be completely transparent, put it all out there.
My mother and father and aunts and uncles were gone, but I have 24 cousins altogether. I went to my cousins, and told them I am going to write about the secret of your parents: It’s my uncle, but it’s your father. It’s your family story even though it’s my family, but it’s yours first. And every cousin, uniformly, said, “Are you kidding? You don’t even know the half of it,” and they’d tell me the whole story. I guess people want the truth out in the end.
Is that an aspect of getting older?
I think it’s a promise of liberation, which is what I have found. It’s this experience of being free from anything that I’ve hid. I don’t have to hide. Years ago, on our 35th wedding anniversary, we took our whole family to the Tenement Museum because we wanted them to see how far we’ve come in two generations.
—
The post Letty Cottin Pogrebin wants Jews to own up to the corrosive power of shame appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
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.
Uncategorized
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.
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.
The post Experimenting with translation on today’s Yiddish stage appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
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.
“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.
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.
The post Their art was whimsical, elegant, ‘scandalous,’ and colorful. It was also revolutionary. appeared first on The Forward.
