By
Donald H. Harrison
San Diego (special) -- Open memo to event planners of the United Jewish
Federation, Lawrence Family Jewish Community Center and the San Diego Center
for Jewish Culture.
As I drove home Saturday evening, April 28, from the Yom Ha'Atzma'ut
"celebration," I couldn't help but wonder if this is what you do when
you
"celebrate," what would you do on a sad occasion?
Gila Almagor is a fine actress, no doubt about it. Her one-woman play
The Summer of Aviya is a meaningful work. But it was totally
inappropriate for the 53rd anniversary of Israel's independence.
Celebrations are supposed to be happy events, not sad ones. We Jews
don't lack for occasions on which to feel sad. In April alone, we had
Yom
HaShoah and Yom HaZikaron. We really didn't need to be miserable on
Yom
Ha Atzma'ut as well.
Why on Yom Ha'Atzma'ut, of all days, did you schedule this very somber
play about the effect of a mother's mental illness on a 10-year-old
daughter? On almost any other occasion such a play would have been
most
welcome. But to dilute the joy of Israel's independence with this sad
story made no sense at all. Instead of permitting our spirits to soar,
the
plot brought most of us in the audience to the verge of depression.
It would have been better to persuade Almagor to come to San Diego from
Israel on another occasion. Even if she had no other open performance
dates, and this was the only possibility, the play should not have
been
scheduled for an Independence Day celebration. We Jews need our
celebrations, and this one shouldn't have been such a painful experience.
The evening started off so promisingly. Dick Katz, speaking for the
United Jewish Federation, reminded us that despite Israel's troubles,
its
economy is growing by leaps and bounds. It ranks behind only the United
States and Canada in the number of companies it has listed on the New
York Stock Exchange. Its Gross National Product is larger than the
combined total of its Arab neighbors. Furthermore, Katz said, the
relationship between American Jews and Israel is strong, with American
Jews determined never to leave Israel in the lurch.
Next, Yonatan Peres, who came from Israel to speak in behalf of that
country's Guide Dog Center for the Blind, delivered a personal message
to
San Diego from his father, Shimon Peres, Israel's former prime minister
and current foreign minister.
"Knowing that Israel can count on the support, commitment and dedication
of its extended family constitutes an invaluable source of strength
to us,
particularly in difficult times," Shimon Peres said. "I am confident
that
together we can overcome whatever hurdles we encounter on our our way,
as we move towards a better future of peace and hope, and many more
joyful celebrations such as these in the years ahead."
Then Micha Biton, wearing a gown and fez, conducted a Moroccan-style
Havdalah service, enchanting the audience with his strong and beautiful
voice. The openness of his personality, combined with his wonderful
musicality, immediately won over the audience which was so ready to
celebrate.
Biton and other musicians directed by Igal Ben Zikri of the Ibim-Sha'ar
Hanegev Music Conservatory came to the festival in honor of the
partnership between San Diego's United Jewish Federation and Ibim,
a
student village in the Sha'ar Hanegev region of Israel.
Demonstrating their versatility, band members Yosef Moshayev, his son
Mark Moshayev, Arie Sverdlik, Nahum Katznelson, Aleksei Saponov
and Boaz Griman performed in a variety of genres including dance music,
classical music and Israeli folk music. They utilized a piano, xylophone,
clarinet, flute, tamborine and guitar
Biton, however, was clearly the crowd's favorite performer of the evening.
Cheers erupted when he returned to the stage to lead in singing
"Hallelujah" and "Salaam" and I'm certain most people in the audience
would have been delighted if he would have continued concertizing for
the
rest of the evening.
Instead, after an intermission and strict instructions to turn cell
phones
off, the audience was brought down, down, down by Almagor's
autobiographical play.
Her mother, a Holocaust survivor, had been left mentally unbalanced
after
an Arab sniper murdered her husband. The mother began to imagine that
she was back in Poland during the nazi terror. She hallucinated that
she
saw lice in the 10-year-old daughter's hair, so she stopped the daughter
from performing in a play, and cut off her hair and scrubbed her scalp.
That was bad, but matters for the 10-year-old Aviya worsened. Mother
and
daughter were stigmatized and ostracized as a pair of meshuganahs.
During one critical moment of the performance, sure enough, a ringing
cell
phone from somewhere in the audience broke everyone's concentration,
including Almagor's. "Please! The cellphone!" the actress protested
in
frustration, then quickly got back into character.
At the end, the crowd gave Almagor a standing, although subdued, ovation
in tribute to her abilities as a writer and as an actress. However,
there
were few smiles, if any, as members of the audience departed this so-
called celebration. |