To commemorate the 75th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau, Manchester Jewish Museum had imported from London a special one-night-only performance of dark comedy “Holocaust Brunch.” Tonight’s performance took place in the Performance Space at Manchester Central Library, on Holocaust Memorial Day.
As we entered the space, we were personally greeted by the show’s writer and performer Tamara Micner, who was standing in front of a long buffet table laden with plates of bagels and cream cheese. These were heavily pressed onto the audience members – as indeed, glasses of vodka and orange juice were later on – because no Jewish event can be held where the guests go hungry. Even a Holocaust event. Once we were dropping crumbs on ourselves, she positioned herself in front of another long buffet table set with an arrangement of catering supplies, and began her friendly chat. She was the hostess; this was her brunch; she was warm and charming and Canadian; and, as we were all friends now, there were a few things she wanted to get off her chest.
Micner had grown up in Canada to a Jewish family who followed every new book, film and conference about the Holocaust in obsessive detail: even running the local education society for it. From childhood onwards, Micner actively resisted the Holocaust, and as she was a modern young woman in a peaceful part of the world, and the historical events were becoming more and more remote in time, it was possible to disconnect from the whole affair. There was some entertaining shtick about her crazy family, such as her father sitting in shiva for a year over a dead pet cat, and she later on made the point that Jews are only permitted to speak loudly when they are either a) performing comedy or b) getting you a divorce deal in court.
The tone changed. She introduced two people from the past: Isaak and Bluma. They had been the elderly grandparents of a schoolfriend of hers, and before they passed away, Isaak wrote a lengthy and unpublished memoir, and Bluma recorded a seven-hour vocal history. In 1939, they had been in their late teens in Soviet-occupied Poland. Most of the show was Micner quietly telling the stories of two ordinary young people in extraordinary circumstances – and because it was very different to the “Schindler’s List” aspect of the Holocaust that we’re most familiar with, involving escaping to the Soviet Union, moving around Europe in post-war peacetime, and finally emigrating to Canada for a long and successful life together, it’s not a story that’s in the public consciousness. The descendants of the Holocaust survivors are dealing with this legacy, and aspects of it are somewhat misunderstood.
Regularly interrupting the quiet and thoughtful tone of the Isaak and Bluma story would be loud clashing music coming over the sound system, courtesy of Dinah Mullen’s eclectically klezmer sound design, and Micner turning into a manic gameshow host. These discordant snatches were on the theme: “Top Ten Things Non-Jewish People Say To Jews About The Holocaust.” Micner had comments printed on cards, which she handed out to audience members, and she also gave them directions on how to read them out loud: generally in the tones of a person who thought themselves cultured, educated, and insightful. (Being a theatre critic, naturally I was given one……) Her response was to then dance on the ongoing ignorance that is spoken about the Holocaust to this day. Antisemitism, and its rise in recent years, was also lightly touched on.
Throughout the performance, Micner had been knotting together short lengths of ribbon. By the end she had made a complete circle. It was laid on the floor, and she commented on history joining people together – but also, should history just be let go? This reviewer will just quote: “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it” (George Santayana – philosopher), and wander off.
Reviewer - Thalia Terpsichore
on - 27/1/20
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