Sztuka teatralna oparta na wspomnieniach pieśniarza jidysz Libera Tauba

(JaS)

Na podstawie wspomnień pochodzącego z Płocka pieśniarza jidysz Libera Tauba (1923-2013) oraz jego dzieci, urodzonych i mieszkających w Izraelu, powstała sztuka teatralna “Czarne czereśnie”. Jej premiera odbędzie się w dziś w płockim Muzeum Żydów Mazowieckich.

Foto: Shutterstock

– To opowieść o Żydzie, płocczaninie, a przede wszystkim o człowieku, który zasłużył, by narodzić się na nowo poprzez swoje wspomnienia i swoje pieśni – powiedział PAP autor sztuki Rafał Kowalski, na co dzień zastępca kierownika płockiego muzeum poświęconego historii i kulturze mazowieckich Żydów.

Liber Taub urodził się w Płocku w 1923 r. Mieszkał w istniejącym do dziś domu przy ul. Jerozolimskiej w pobliżu płockiego Starego Rynku. Oprócz niego i starszego brata Herszela nikt z rodziny nie przeżył Holocaustu – rodzice i rodzeństwo zginęli w niemieckim obozach zagłady Auschwitz i Treblinka.

Liber wraz z bratem po zakończeniu II wojny światowej powrócili na krótko do Płocka. Następnie wyemigrowali do Izraela. Liber Taub mieszkał tam do śmierci w 2013 r. Przez lata w swoim domu w Ramat Gan pod Tel-Avivem nagrywał amatorsko śpiewane a capella pieśni jidysz, które jeszcze jako dziecko słyszał na płockich ulicach i w swym rodzinnym domu.

W 2014 r. córka Libera Tauba, Hana, przekazała Muzeum Żydów Mazowieckich zbiór 50. utworów zarejestrowanych przez ojca, z których większość jest obecnie częścią stałej, multimedialnej ekspozycji placówki. Rodzina Taubów jest spokrewniona z chasydzką dynastią Modrzyc z okolic Dęblina pod Lublinem, założoną pod koniec XIX wieku przez rabina Israela Tauba (1849-1920).

Sztuka “Czarne czereśnie” powstała w oparciu, o spisane przez Libera Tauba wspomnienia oraz rozmowy autora scenariusza z Haną i Avrahamem, dziećmi pieśniarza, a także na podstawie korespondencji, jaką prowadził on z Ryszardem Bielawskim, pasjonatem kultury żydowskiej z Wrocławia. W spektaklu występują aktorzy Teatru Dramatycznego w Płocku: Szymon Cempura – w roli Libera Tauba i Hanna Chojnacka – wykonawczyni pieśni jidysz w tłumaczeniu na jęz. polski. Oboje odtwarzają też role dzieci pieśniarza.

Przedstawiona w sztuce historia rozpoczyna się od pieśni “Jidysze mame”. Następnie pojawiają się wspomnienia Libera Tauba z dzieciństwa, pejzaż i klimat płockiej dzielnicy żydowskiej z lat 30. XX wieku, rodzinnego domu z postacią dziadka Bera, rodziców Chany i Tuvie, braci Herszela, Icchaka i Szlomo oraz siostry Beli, a także szkolnych kolegów Barucha i Fajwysa. Niezabliźnioną raną są wspomnienia z likwidacji płockiego getta, utraconych bliskich i grozy Auschwitz. Jest także relacja dzieci Libera Tauba ze wspólnej wizyty w Płocku w 1998 r., o którym, będąc już w Izraelu, on sam mówił: – do tego Płocka serce ciągle mi się rwie. Na koniec wybrzmiewa pieśń: “A ja tylko o jedno proszę Boga: skąd wziąć trochę szczęścia?”.

– Kiedy jechałem do Izraela, by spotkać się z mieszkającymi tam płocczanami pochodzenia żydowskiego i ich potomkami, Liber nie żył od kilku miesięcy. Przed wizytą u Hany i Avrahama pomyślałem: nie zdążyłem, ale przynajmniej porozmawiam z dziećmi Libera i dowiem się, czy i co opowiadał im o swoim życiu. Na miejscu, oprócz rozmowy, czekały na mnie dwie niespodzianki. Otrzymałem wspomnienia spisane przez samego Libera oraz maile, które za życia wymienił z Ryszardem Bielawskim, pasjonatem kultury żydowskiej z Wrocławia – powiedział Kowalski, opisując, jak powstawał pomysł na sztukę.

Przypomniał też wizytę Hany w płockim Muzeum Żydów Mazowieckich, która w 2014 r. przekazała tam nagrania pieśni jidysz w wykonaniu Libera Tauba. – Hana poprosiła, by przed oficjalną uroczystością włączyć jej piosenkę “Jidysze mame” śpiewaną przez ojca. Słuchała wzruszona, w skupieniu. To był magiczny moment. Opowiedziałem o tym Hannie Chojnackiej, aktorce płockiego teatru. Uznała, że właśnie ta scena mogłaby być początkiem spektaklu. Zachwyciła się pieśniami Libera, a swym zachwytem zaraziła Szymona Cempurę, też aktora płockiej sceny. I stało się. Powstał scenariusz, spektakl. Historia Libera jest jak drzewo wypuszczające kolejne gałęzie – powiedział Kowalski.

Dodał, że scenariusz sztuki “Czarne czereśnie” zostanie zamieszczony w książce, nad którą obecnie pracuje, jako jedna z 33. opowieści o płocczanach pochodzenia żydowskiego – publikacja wydawnictwa planowana jest na wrzesień.

Przed II wojną światową w Płocku ludność pochodzenia żydowskiego stanowiła 9 tys. osób, blisko jedną trzecią wszystkich mieszkańców. Holocaust przeżyła nieliczna grupa, która w większości opuściła miasto, emigrując pod koniec lat 50., a następnie 60. XX wieku, głównie do Izraela i USA. Płoccy Żydzi stanowili jedną z najstarszych społeczności żydowskich na ziemiach polskich – tuż przed wybuchem II wojny światowej przygotowywali się do obchodów jubileuszu 700-lecia osiedlenia się w tym mieście.

Facing death chants and hate crimes, Sweden’s Jews live in a climate of fear

Josefin Dolsten

‘A lot of Jews are scared’ in this Nordic community of 15,000, as lines blur between criticism of Israel and anti-Semitism

Illustrative photo of a pro-Palestinian demonstration in Stockholm, Sweden, on January 20, 2009. (Miriam Alster/Flash90)

On a chilly fall day, passersby on a central street in Sweden’s third largest city, Malmö, were greeted with chants in Arabic urging the killing of Jews.

“Death to the Jews,’ and ‘More stabbings,’ the protesters screamed,” recalls Jehoshua Kaufman, head of communications for Malmö’s Jewish community. The protesters at the October pro-Palestinian rally were referring to the near-daily stabbings of Jews by Arab assailants over the past couple of months in Israel.

Swedish politicians, including two parliament members, were present at the protest. However, after Israel’s ambassador to Sweden, Isaac Bachman, condemned the event, they distanced themselves, claiming they had not understood the meaning of the Arabic slogans.
Kaufman questions how such an event had been permitted to take place, and why the politicians had not demanded a translation of the chants.
“The politicians could have left and said, ‘We don’t know what you are saying, but we won’t participate unless we know what you are saying,’” he says.

A pro-Palestinian, anti-Israel protest in Gothenburg, Sweden in November 2015. The signs in Swedish read ‘Boycott Israel.’ (Marianne Pleen Schreiber)

These types of incidents, where anti-Israel rhetoric turns violently anti-Semitic, have created a climate of fear for Sweden’s small Jewish community, which numbers 15,000. Hate crimes against Jews are on the rise, with 2014 seeing a 38 percent increase in reported anti-Semitic incidents from the previous year, according to a report by the Swedish National Council for Crime Prevention.

“Right now, a lot of Jews in Sweden are scared. Parents are scared to drop off their kids at the Jewish preschool,” says Johanna Schreiber, a prominent Jewish journalist who lives in the country’s capital, Stockholm. “People of all ages are scared of going to synagogue, there are many people who are taking off their Stars of David because they are too scared to wear it.”

Johanna Schreiber (Anna Järphammar)

Last month Schreiber received hateful comments and was targeted for identity theft after publishing an article where she called out political groups for not inviting Jewish organizations to ceremonies across Sweden commemorating Kristallnacht, or “The Night of Broken Glass,” when violent anti-Jewish pogroms erupted throughout Nazi Germany and Austria in November 1938.

When questioned, one of the organizers claimed Jews might not feel safe at the event.

Expressing public support for Israel can be dangerous, and the police do not always provide proper protection at pro-Israel events. During a 2009 rally in Malmö, organized by Kaufman, the small crowd of Israel supporters was forced to abandon the event after police were unable to stop thousands of pro-Palestinian backers from storming the barricades and running towards the group.

When asked whether he anticipates a similar turn of events were he to organize another rally today, Kaufman says: “Absolutely.”

Jehoshua Kaufman (Nicklas Rudfell)
Such incidents and the general climate of fear makes many Israel supporters hesitant to express their opinions publicly. Idit Margulis, an Israeli who has lived in Sweden for seven years, started thinking twice about attending pro-Israel rallies after the birth of her daughter three years ago.

“I have a daughter, so I usually don’t take part in demonstrations or things like that, which is something I did before I had her. I’m scared that someone would hurt me when I stand there,” she explains.

The Swedish government, headed by the left-wing Social Democratic Party under Prime Minister Stefan Löfven, is known for its staunch support of the Palestinian cause and criticism of Israel. In 2014, the country became the first European Union member state to recognize the State of Palestine.

More recently, Foreign Minister Margot Wallström was slammed by Israel for suggesting that the motivation for last month’s terrorist attacks in Paris, during which Islamist terrorists killed 130 people, stemmed from the frustration of Palestinians.

Sweden’s Minister for Foreign Affairs Margot Wallstrom
gives a statement to media on the Paris terrorist attacks,
Stockholm, Sweden, November 14, 2015.
(AFP/ TT NEWS AGENCY / HENRIK MONTGOMERY)

Wallström also suggested that Israel’s response to terrorism was “disproportionate,” and equated the Jewish state’s killing of Palestinian attackers with “extrajudicial executions.”

Statements such as those made by Wallström have created a climate where constant criticism of Israel is the norm, and lawmakers who go against the status quo face not only political isolation, but also grave safety threats.

“When I say something [positive] regarding Israel I get a flood of hate mail and threats,” Hanif Bali, a member of parliament for the center-right Moderate Party, the largest party in the opposition bloc, tells the Times of Israel by phone. “The senders range from Palestinian or Arab immigrants to left-wing people in general, so the dialogue is very polarized and very aggressive. It’s hard to talk about the issue because you have to pay such a high price for it.”

Hanif Bali (Fredrik Wennerlund)
Bali, who is of Iranian Muslim heritage, has received countless hate mail due to his open support of Israel. In one instance he had to contact the police after receiving a death threat.

“People write openly anti-Semitic things to you, like ‘Jew lover,’ and ‘Jew swine’… crude anti-Semitic insults, even though I am not even Jewish. I can only imagine what it would be like if a Jew said something on the issue,” he says.

Bali believes that the fact that he is not Jewish gives him courage to voice opinions that many Jews are scared to share openly.

“There are a lot of Jewish people who contact me and thank me for supporting Israel publicly, because they are not able to do so themselves, since then the anti-Semitism that is expressed against them is so much stronger,” he adds.

The government’s stance on Israel is deeply ingrained in the political system, Bali believes. Pro-Palestinian groups are eligible to receive governmental funds to conduct lobbying activities, further ingraining their perspective as part of the government’s official stance.

When asked if he could imagine a pro-Israel group getting access to such funds, he says: “I think that would be very, very difficult. I cannot imagine that it could happen.”

UCLA Student Whose BDS-Defeat ‘Meltdown’ Went Viral ‘Deeply Regrets’ Actions; Says Israel Is Great (INTERVIEW)

UCLA student Danielle Dimacali. Photo: Courtesy.

A University of California Los Angeles (UCLA) student whose angry outburst following the defeat of an anti-Israel vote went viral on the Internet has had a chance to educate herself better, she told The Algemeiner this week, after requesting an opportunity to express her change of heart.

“I don’t believe Israel is evil,” Danielle Dimacali said. “In fact I think it’s a great progressive country that offers a lot of freedom for its citizens.”

Dimacali, originally from the Philippines, was seeking to set the record straight about an incident that occurred in February 2014 during a meeting of the student council, where she still serves as a minutes-taker.

Dimacali attracted media attention at the time for weeping and cursing when a Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions (BDS) motion, initiated by the activist group Students for Justice in Palestine (SJP), was rejected. A video of the proceedings and Dimacali’s subsequent “meltdown” was shared on social media and reported in this publication.

Dimacali said she was shocked by the angry response her disappointment generated, which was reflected in comments circulating on the web, and in hate mail and even death threats she received.

Dimacali said her intentions were “misconstrued.”

“I was depicted as an antisemite upset that divestment didn’t pass,” she said. “But that’s not the case at all. I deeply regret my poor choice of curse words. And I now understand that Jewish communities misinterpreted my intentions and felt attacked. I never intended to hurt anyone.”

Dimacali explained that she had known very little about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, the BDS movement or SJP, and that the real reason for her tears was the “apathy” of the student council to the proceedings.

“Regardless of how the vote turned out, I would have been upset,” she said.

“It wasn’t the defeat of SJP that bothered me so much,” she said. “It was the entire 12-hour meeting and how inefficiently and poorly it was executed. The student council was elected and has a responsibility to listen to the students. However, throughout the meeting I often found myself the only person on that table listening.”

She continued:

I’m not an elected official; I’m just a minutes-taker. However, as a human being I was upset that there were 800 people in the auditorium telling us stories on both sides [of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict] — about how their families feel unsafe and how they feel unsafe on campus. It broke my heart hearing about these narratives and students making themselves so vulnerable and sharing so much. But the rest of the council members were unmoved. Some were on their phones; others were on their laptops.

Meanwhile, I listened to and typed every word. I could tell the students were exasperated at the lack of empathy on the part of the students they elected to the council.

I felt like I was the only who cared. I deeply, deeply regret how my meltdown got taken out of context. I never once said anything about Israel or Palestine in my rant.

Asked whether she had been influenced or pressured by SJP prior to the vote, or if the atmosphere on campus made it feel safer to espouse anti-Israel positions, Dimacali pleaded ignorance, not ideology.

“Although I have no ties to either Israel or Palestine, and I previously was completely unaware of the conflict, I know it’s my duty to educate myself on global issues and empathize with students,” she said. “Prior to the meeting, both Students for Justice in Palestine and Bruins for Israel (BFI) gave PowerPoint presentations depicting their viewpoints. Both arguments were convincing. No group has ever pressured me to feel a certain way, but I have had the privilege to hear their narratives. It’s honestly amazing how impassioned students can get and I’m humbled to be surrounded by such diversity. Even after everything went down and my meltdown video went viral, BFI and SJP both reached out to me and showed their support. Both groups understood my intentions and they were both extremely helpful in dealing with the aftermath.”

Dimacali said she has been studying the conflict “since becoming so entangled in it.” One step she took was to reach out to leading pro-Israel writers, among them FrontPage Magazine managing editor Jamie Glazov and blogger Elder of Ziyon — who himself publicized and analyzed her episode. Glazov, she said, went out of his way to help, going as far as to send her copies of his books. And Elder of Ziyon corresponded with her by email.

These gestures, Dimacali said, “gave me hope that forgiveness and mercy are real” — and assisted me “on this giant learning curve I have been on.”

One of the things she said she has learned about is antisemitism – “a negative perception of Jews that can be manifested physically or verbally toward Jewish individuals, property, religious facilities or their respective communities. Furthermore, I understand that antisemitism manifests itself with regard to the state of Israel. Criticism of Israel, demonizing Israel, blaming Israel for all inter-religious or political tensions, applying double standards towards Israel, or delegitimizing Israel are all forms of Jew-hatred. It is not only illegal but immoral to target a historically oppressed Jewish minority that has a collective right to self-determination and essential human rights.”

In conclusion, Dimacali said she “likes to see the silver lining in it all. It was overwhelming getting painted as this evil person who was infected with hate, but it was even more overwhelming receiving the amount of support and empathy others had with me because they knew my intentions were pure. I still think empathy is an amazing thing and the highest form of intelligence, and everyone needs a little more to change the world and get closer to peace.”