As temperatures climb, some New Yorkers gather their families and head for the countryside, while others remain en ville to seek similar experiences in concerts redolent of Yiddishkeit. One such is a May 26 recital at The Austrian Cultural Forum in which Austrian soprano Ursula Langmayr performs a selection of Gustav Mahler’s outdoors-inspired songs, accompanied by pianist Russell Ryan. Instead of strenuous exercise in rural settings, music lovers can experience virtuosic derring-do in the form of Felix Mendelssohn’s “Variations sérieuses” played on June 1 at Bargemusic by pianist Victoria Korchinskaya-Kogan, whose grandparents were the mighty Ukrainian Jewish violinists Leonid Kogan and Yelizaveta Gilels.
On June 3, the PRISM Saxophone Quartet takes over Symphony Space with a happy family of world premieres, including works by David Rakowski, Perry Goldstein, and Matthew Levy, the last-mentioned being the tenor sax player of PRISM. Summer is nothing without old relatives, and pieces by two elder statesmen of musical modernism, Milton Babbitt (who died in January at age 94) and Mario Davidovsky will be featured in a Bargemusic performance by the composer/performer collective, counter)induction.
This week we’re pleased to feature a poem by Susan Comninos, “Rome Visits When I’m in the Bath.” The poem is a bit of a maze. On the surface there’s the juxtaposition of Jewish and Christian identities, but then more layers begin to emerge. Do the two identities refer to different modes of inspiration, to routes through which the free-associative mind travels? Or is it about the unavoidable assimilation and intrusion that comes as “dull” banging? Then again, contemplating the two religions, the author finds herself in the bath — a long-standing symbol of Roman wealth and leisure. The poem’s language is twisted and elusive but that, perhaps, is the point: The poet’s meanings cannot be, as it were, nailed down.
Susan Comninos’s poetry has appeared in TriQuarterly Online, the Forward, Quarterly West, Lilith, Tikkun and “The Blueline Anthology” (Syracuse University Press, 2004), among other publications. Last year she won Tablet Magazine’s Yehuda Halevi Poetry Contest.
The virtually forgotten Lithuanian-Jewish composer Joseph Achron (1886-1943) is getting a premiere this weekend in the German city of Brandenburg an der Havel.
As part of their season-long exploration of music suppressed by the Third Reich, the Brandenburg Symphoniker, conducted by Robin Engelen, will present the first German performance of Achron’s third violin concerto (and the first performance in over 70 years), on a program that also includes Mendelssohn’s Fourth Symphony and Mozart’s Symphony No. 26.
Born in Lithuania in 1886, Achron was a violin prodigy who made his first public appearance at age 7. He was educated in Warsaw, St. Petersburg and Berlin by some of the great teachers of the age, including Leopold Auer and Joseph Joachim.
Two days before the world was to end, as calculated by engineer and prophet Harold Camping, seemed as good a time as any to find answers to eternal questions about human life and meaning. Thus I joined “What’s on your Mind? ” an “International Philosophy Festival” in Jerusalem that ran from May 18 to May 20 as part of this year’s Jerusalem Season of Culture. The city where more philosophers, prophets and messiahs roam than on any other place on earth, and in which the momentous events of the Apocalypse will unfold, was the obvious locale. The festival was held in a large tent erected at the beautiful cultural center Mishkenot Sha’ananim, a stone’s throw from the walls of the ancient city and facing Mount Zion.
The sessions included “Old Man, What Is His Life,” about modern medicine’s growing ability to extend life, with the participation of a gerontologist, a jurist and 80-year-old novelist Yoram Kaniuk; the impact of social networking on the concept of friendship, led by Web editors and a professor of management; the ways new discoveries in brain research impact the concept of free will and whether it exists, with talks by an Israeli clinical psychologist and by Princeton philosophy professor and author of the best selling study “On Bullshit,” Harry Frankfurt; “The Sexual Revolution — What Next?”; and “Man in the Role of God,” examining scientific innovations in the field of human reproduction. Well Known Israeli law professor Ruth Gavison, philosophy teacher David Heyd, and progressive Orthodox rabbi Yuval Cherlow debated such issues as “improving” the human race.
Flavorwire previews an exhibit of sculptures by Sol LeWitt, on view in New York at City Hall Park.
Gary Shteyngart has won the Wodehouse Prize for comic fiction, the first American to ever receive the honor.
Adam Kirsch reviews “Leeches,” a novel by Serbian Jewish writer David Albahari.
From left: Carol Linnea Johnson, Stephanie Palumbo and Anastasia Barzee in ‘I Married Wyatt Earp.’ Photo by Gerry Goodstein.
Wyatt Earp is buried in a Jewish cemetery outside of San Francisco. Who knew? The hero of the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral was married to a naughty-but-nice Jewish girl. Born in Brooklyn to German-Jewish émigrés and raised in San Francisco, Josephine Sarah Marcus ran away at 18 from her middle class folks to Tombstone, Arizona, to take a job as a chorus girl.
Josie is the subject of a new musical, “I Married Wyatt Earp,” making its New York debut at 59E59 Theaters on May 26, and running through June 12. That is also the title of Josie’s own book, “I Married Wyatt Earp: The Recollections of Josephine Sarah Marcus Earp,” published by the University of Arizona Press in 1976. The play’s cast of 11 is made up entirely of women, with music by Johnny Mercer Award-winner Michele Brourman, who has written for Olivia Newton-John and Michael Feinstein.The book is co-written by Thomas Edward West and Sheilah Rae, and the show is directed by Cara Reichel and choreographed by Joe Barros.
On Monday, C. Alexander London wrote about being an accidental adventurer. His blog posts are being featured this week on The Arty Semite courtesy of the Jewish Book Council and My Jewish Learning’s Author Blog series. For more information on the series, please visit:
By the far the question I am asked most often by my young readers is, as well as by teachers and librarians: “When does the next “Accidental Adventures” book come out?”
It’s a flattering question for an author, and one of the many blessings of writing series fiction. If the characters and the story resonate, readers will demand more. Having only published the first book (“We Are Not Eaten by Yaks”) in a planned quadrology about the TV-addicted children of world famous explorers, it is gratifying to know that readers are eager for more.
The hype surrounding “The Hunger Games” trilogy or The latest “Diary of a Wimpy Kid” book or, of course, the mother of them all, “Harry Potter,” shows just how eager fans of a popular series can be for its continuation. Younger readers, who struggle with the constant state of change and loss that is childhood, yearn for familiar characters and the persistent worlds that exist in well-made series. It’s only natural. There is a sadness that comes with finishing a beloved book, whether you’re the writer or the reader.
Crossposted from Haaretz
In the salad days of the state, the Histadrut labor federation was active in all aspects of Zionist worker’s needs, from housing to health to leisure and culture. Included in the union’s activities were projects aimed to advance the education and vocational training of women.
In 1962, the Working Women’s Council (today’s Na’amat ) inaugurated Beit Elisheva, a unique women’s training and cultural center on Eliezer Hamodai Street in the Katamon neighborhood of Jerusalem. Like other public Histadrut buildings from that period, Beit Elisheva was architecturally unique and expressed a fascinating connection between a local tradition of building in stone and internationally inspired Modernist daring.
Fifty years later it is in bad shape. The entire building is shabby, worn and nearly impossible to recognize because of later additions and dozens of air conditioning units pocking the building with no apparent order.
Lovers of Jewish culture know about Italy’s Luzzatto family, including the 19th century theologian Samuel David Luzzatto, known as Shadal, and (by marriage) the prolific author and teacher Dante Lattes.
Shadal’s great-great-grandson, Amos Luzzatto, has followed in the family tradition. Born in Rome in 1928, he spent the war years with his family in Jerusalem, only returning to Italy in 1946, whereupon Amos launched a long career as a surgeon, also serving on the Unione delle Comunità Ebriache Italiane (Union of Italian Jewish Communities), representing the city of Venice. Luzzatto has published an annotated translation of the Book of Job with Feltrinelli Editore and, with Casa Edititrice Giuntina, “A Jewish Reading of the Song of Songs.”
Seventy does not mean old or young. As Bob Dylan says in Floater:
The old men ’round here, sometimes they get
On bad terms with the younger men
But old, young, age don’t carry weight
It doesn’t matter in the end
In the imagination of the Jewish sages of Late Antiquity, 70 means quality, not quantity. It means wisdom and variety.
There are the 70 descendants of Noah, the 70 names of Jerusalem, and the 70 wise men of Jerusalem. Legend speaks of a gathering of 70 translators of the Hebrew Bible into Greek for the first time — hence the Septuagint. Most important are the 70 faces of the Torah.
For Canadian author and poet Alison Pick, it was her personal journey of discovering and reclaiming her Jewish identity that led to her greatest professional success. The 35-year-old recently won the 2010 Canadian Jewish Book Award for fiction, being presented May 30 in Toronto, for her historical novel, “Far to Go,” about a Czechoslovakian Jewish family on the eve of World War II. Available last fall in Canada, the book was published this spring in Italy, the Netherlands, the U.K., and the U.S. Following many positive reviews, it was listed as one of the 10 best books of 2010 in The Toronto Star and NOW Magazine, and named among the top 40 books of the decade by the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation.
Pick recently spoke with The Arty Semite from her home in Toronto, where she lives with her husband and young daughter, about how the revealing of family secrets and her decision to embrace Judaism informed her creative process.
Renee Ghert-Zand: How did you not know until you were a young adult that your father’s family was Jewish?
There are Orthodox Jews versus secular Jews; accusations that wealthy philanthropists are trying to control Jewish organizations staffed by overworked, underpaid communal professionals; charges that certain Jewish institutions are sucking up the lion’s share of communal funds, leaving others to languish. Sound familiar? Something like New York, or any other large American Jewish community, in the 21st century? Yet these phrases could just as accurately describe the Jewish community of czarist Kiev, as I’ll explain in a lecture at the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research on May 24.
Kiev was formally opened to Jewish settlement in only 1859, but its Jewish population grew by leaps and bounds in the following decades, despite continued czarist legislation restricting Jewish residence and cultural and religious activities. By the turn of the century it had a wide array of Jewish welfare and communal institutions, as well as a chorus of critics who, dissatisfied with the way the community was run, demanded a revolution. In this, Kiev was typical of many Jewish communities in the Russian Empire, where a new Jewish leadership — often inspired by ideologies such as Zionism and Bundism — was in the ascendant, but had to struggle with an entrenched establishment.
Bob Dylan turns 70 on May 24. So what? Well, for one, let’s see you continue to perform two-hour concerts 100 nights a year, as you’ve been doing practically nonstop for the past quarter-century or so, all over the world, keeping things new and fresh, while the music industry around you falls apart; your body is battered by so many aches and pains that you can barely hold a guitar, and your singing voice — never the greatest to begin with — is nothing but a hollow shell of what it once was. You’re lucky if you can even spit out the lyrics of songs from throughout your 50-year career in a talking voice, much less even remember them.
So that’s what. It’s incredibly impressive and unprecedented. Sure, B.B. King and Willie Nelson are older and have been at it longer, but those two have been phoning it in for at least two or three decades at this point. Only Bob Dylan continues to take the stage, night after night, for no apparent reason; it can’t be for the money, and he sure doesn’t seem to be having a good time. Yet he still delves deep into 30- and 40-year-old songs and discovers new nuances, previously overlooked twists and turns of phrase, seemingly channeling something far beyond the conventional rock concert experience in which an artist delivers renditions of greatest hits and some new songs so you might buy one of his more recent recordings.
C. Alexander London is the author of “We Are Not Eaten by Yaks: An Accidental Adventure,” and the forthcoming sequel, “We Dine With Cannibals.” As Charles London, his grown-up alter ego, he wrote “One Day the Soldiers Came: Voices of Children in War” and “Far from Zion: In Search of a Global Jewish Community.” His blog posts are being featured this week on The Arty Semite courtesy of the Jewish Book Council and My Jewish Learning’s Author Blog series. For more information on the series, please visit:
It’s odd that a middle grade novel called “We Are Not Eaten by Yaks” about two 11-year-old couch potatoes and their adventures, should have its origins in a personal quest for Jewish meaning, but if it had not been for the scattering of the Jewish people, I never would have been in Rangoon to celebrate the High Holy Days with a few of the last Jews in Burma, and I never would have written it.
I suppose I should start at the beginning, before I became a writer of books for younger readers.
I was in Asia, doing research for what would become “Far From Zion,” a narrative of my journey through the far reaches of the Diaspora to figure out what it meant for me to be a part of the Jewish people. What did I have in common with a Jew in Rangoon? What did he share with a recent convert in rural Uganda? And what did all of us share with a Jewish community in Arkansas or with my Orthodox great-great grandfather who settled in Virginia, or with the nephew of a Hasidic rabbi in Jerusalem? What bound us together? Why did Jewish community persist, and what was my place in it?
I took a trip, starting in Burma, to find out.
Photo by Kenneth Locke
Orit Shimoni is a singer-songwriter in perpetual motion, with little slowing her down as she travels from city to city, gig to gig. But it was a 2008 first-time visit to Berlin that gave her uncharacteristic pause. She had gone to the German capital to check out the music scene, where, she said, “you can show up and let things happen… Berlin is a hot spot for people who are just hovering.” Yet she couldn’t ignore the fact that she was a Jewish person in Germany and consequently grappling with being both “comfortable and uncomfortable” there.
From this tension emerged an album’s worth of songs, which Shimoni recorded live and has just released as “Sadder Music: Live in Berlin” under her performing alias, Little Birdie. The 10 tracks on this, her third independently produced album, are fine examples of her intimate and direct style, regardless of whether you label the album folk or country. Her sound, which is hard to pin down, is actually a bit of both. Shimoni herself likes to refer to it as “dark country.” She sings lead vocals, plays acoustic guitar and is backed up by a band that includes violin, electric guitar, bass and percussion.
Crossposted from Haaretz
About year ago, on an El Al flight to somewhere in Asia, was the usual variety pack of Israeli types: newly discharged soldiers, young couples, families with kids; religious, ultra-Orthodox and nonobservant. For all of about half an hour, when an episode of the second season of “Ramzor” (“Traffic Light”) played, we seemed to be “one people.” The response was uniform: Everyone, young and old, secular and religious, Mizrahi and Ashkenazi, laughed and nodded at the same moments.
“Ramzor,” whose third season airs Thursday on Channel 2, is nothing short of a phenomenon. But not because of its high ratings: This Israeli series about the friendship among three rather infantile men and about the characters’ love lives, which are totally controlled by the women, received the International Emmy Award for comedy this year. An American version was pulled after one season, but when Fox announced that “Ramzor” was not being renewed for another season, it also emphasized that it was considering future collaborations with series creator Adir Miller. He is expected to meet with studio executives in the United States in a few weeks.
Allan Nadler reviews “The Mixed Multitude,” a study of “serial apostate, sexual deviant, messianic pretender and chameleonic charlatan” Jacob Frank.
Sara Ivry interviews David Unger about his novel “The Price of Escape,” the story of a German- Jewish refugee’s misadventures in Guatemala.
Filmmaker Saul Sudin on Lars Von Trier’s disgrace, and Joseph Cedar’s triumph, at Cannes.
Woody Allen’s “Midnight in Paris” is burning up the box office.
A.J. Goldmann appreciates Wanda Landowska, the 20th-century champion of the harpsichord.
Micah Kelber profiles Jeffrey Yohalem, winner of head writer award from the Writers Guild of America for “Assassin’s Creed.”
Laura Hodes reviews Joseph Skibell’s “A Curable Romantic,” which was shortlisted for the Rohr Prize.
Philologos lives like God in Odessa.
A Monument to Hatuey in Baracoa, Cuba. Photo by Michal Zalewski.
A version of this post appeared in Yiddish here.
In 1931, Yiddish poet, journalist and editor Ascher Penn published “Hatuey,” a 126-page epic poem about a Taíno chieftain who fought against the Spanish invasion of Cuba at the beginning of the 16th century, and who was eventually burned at the stake in 1512.
Born in 1912 in Ukraine, Penn immigrated with his parents to Cuba in 1924 following a pogrom in his native shtetl of Gaysin. In “Hatuey,” Penn drew on the experience of the pogrom to describe the massacre of Taíno natives by the Spanish, and expressed his admiration for Taíno history and culture.
Now, composer and Klezmatics trumpeter Frank London is working on an opera based on Penn’s poem, incorporating both Yiddish and Cuban music. At a May 5 symposium on Yiddish opera at the Joseph Slifka Center for Jewish Life at Yale University, London discussed the project together with Yale University English professor Alan Trachtenberg; Penn’s daughter, Eileen Posnick, and her husband, dramaturge and visiting artist Michael Posnick, who organized the symposium.
Ed note: This is the first in a series linking the weekly Torah reading — however tenuously — to classic works of rock ‘n’ roll.
In the first, and longest, section of this week’s parsha God tells us of the reward we will receive if we “walk in my statutes,” and the sufferings that will befall us if we don’t. With a somewhat different take on that phrase, live from Houston, Texas, June 24, 1977: