Websites by Samantha Mitschke
Publications by Samantha Mitschke
The concept of performance in the concentration camps is not a
new one. Rovit and Goldfarb (1999)... more The concept of performance in the concentration camps is not a
new one. Rovit and Goldfarb (1999) have chronicled a range of
inmate performances from the cabarets of Theresienstadt to the
variety shows at Auschwitz-Birkenau, created for many diverse
reasons. Yet since the liberation of the camps there has been
virtually no theatrical performance in these sites of memory. The
very notion is generally seen as taboo, but the reasons for this are
somewhat vague and appear to centre around the widespread
idea of performance as ‘frivolous’; to perform within a
concentration camp would be to somehow deface Holocaust
memory and mock the suffering of those imprisoned there. Such
‘profane’ performance can be located within the ‘selfie’
photographs of tourists visiting the camps. But what of the daily
shows that take place in the guise of guided tours – ‘sacred’
performances? What makes these performances acceptable to the
public and the camp authorities, when theatrical performances
are not? Can there ever be an acceptable theatrical performance
within a concentration camp?
Taking Auschwitz-Birkenau as a case study, this article seeks to
address these questions through a considered discussion of
‘sacred’ and ‘profane’ performances in the camp. It begins by
outlining the components of the guided tour, from the learned
script of the guide to the ‘promenade performance’ nature of the
space, and what makes this a ‘sacred’ performance. It defines the
‘profane’ performance hypothesis through a reflection upon
several examples of tourist photographs taken within Auschwitz. It
questions where site-specific theatrical performance would fall
within these parameters through an interrogation of aspects
including its purpose, the identity of the performers, the
(intended) audience, and the short- and long-term ramifications
for the performance and the camp. Ultimately, this article probes
whether site-specific performance at Auschwitz could ever be
efficacious and anything but profane.
'Saving Humans' blog, The Institute of Advanced Studies (IAS), University of Birmingham, Nov 21, 2013
The difficulties in researching a PhD in Holocaust theatre include the use of language, sensitivi... more The difficulties in researching a PhD in Holocaust theatre include the use of language, sensitivity (is there a 'right' way to interview a Holocaust survivor?), the ethics of portrayal, and, even, the perception of others (I have been asked more than once, 'Is there any Holocaust theatre?' though there are plays on the theme by writers such as Arthur Miller, Peter Weiss and David Edgar, among others). Initially, these issues were ever-present. My two main concerns were fear of asking the 'wrong' questions, and how to be appropriately respectful but this has had a function in my research: for instance, one of my thesis chapters explores how some theatre sets out to cause offence in order to make the audience look more closely at the Holocaust. In fact, these issues -which once caused me to question my (suit)ability as a researcher -are now as inherent to my work as breathing: I am not conscious of their presence, but were they to suddenly cease, I would immediately know it.
"History, Memory, Performance is an interdisciplinary collection of essays exploring performances... more "History, Memory, Performance is an interdisciplinary collection of essays exploring performances of the past in a wide range of trans-national and historical contexts ranging from seventeenth century New France and nineteenth-century Russia to modern Australia, Brazil, Britain, Canada, Lebanon, Russia, and the United States. Contributions from theatre scholars and public historians address issues of shared interest to the disciplines of theatre studies and theatre history, performance studies, history, and public history, coalescing around the concept of memory, both collective and individual. Wide-ranging and theoretically engaged, History, Memory, Performance is especially timely given the historical turn in theatre studies and the performative turn in historical studies."
My contribution to this collection is an expanded version of a paper originally given at the "History, Memory, Performance" conference at the University of Ottawa in April 2012.
Conference Presentations by Samantha Mitschke
As Elizabeth D. Heineman (2002) observes, sex and Nazism are vulnerable to sensationalism. The hi... more As Elizabeth D. Heineman (2002) observes, sex and Nazism are vulnerable to sensationalism. The history of the Third Reich is entwined with sexuality, from Nazi eugenics to the persecution of homosexuals. While the Nazis declared war on ‘sexual deviancy’, their own – real or imagined – has proved a source of fascination: from the extramarital affairs of Rudolf Höss and Albert Speer and the openly homosexual SA leader Ernst Rohm to sexual relationships between SS guards and concentration camp inmates (Rees, 2005; Heger, 1980/2010). But what benefit, if any, can be derived from portrayals of Nazi sexuality? Can the humanness of sexual relationships enable audiences to identify with the ‘Nazi-as-human’ and lead to a closer consideration of what Max Picard (1947) calls the “Hitler in ourselves”? Or do depictions of sexuality propagate the stereotype of the ‘Nazi-as-other’, alienating spectators while offering a tantalising and sensationalist thrill?
This paper draws upon case studies from British and American theatre to interrogate the extent to which different portrayals of Nazi sexuality can have the potential to ‘associate or alienate’ audiences within a ‘sexually-liberal’ society. It utilises Angus Jackson’s stage adaptation of The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas (2014) and David Edgar’s Albert Speer (2000) to discuss how extramarital affairs are used to encourage spectator sympathy. It considers the sexuality of female perpetrators through Gail Louw’s Blonde Poison (2012) and Jo Davidsmeyer’s Angel: A Nightmare in Two Acts (1987), predominantly through the notions of seduction and motherhood, and how these can elicit both sympathy and revulsion. It investigates the ‘perverse’ aspects of Nazi sexuality represented in Martin Sherman’s Bent (1979/1998) and Eugene Lion’s Sammy’s Follies: A Criminal Comedy (2003) to examine how these can contemporaneously alienate and cause deeper consideration of the Holocaust, and ultimately questions the efficacy of theatrical representations of the perversity of perpetrators.
The Imperial War Museum and the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum define the Holocaust as b... more The Imperial War Museum and the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum define the Holocaust as being the Nazi genocide of Jews and other groups deemed ‘undesirable’. Yet despite advances in UK Holocaust awareness, few British plays address narratives of ‘Holocaust minorities’. Alvin Rosenfeld (2011) posits that most people use popular entertainment to learn about the Holocaust, demonstrated by films such as Schindler’s List (1993) and plays such as The Diary of Anne Frank (1955). But why do certain groups remain under- or even unrepresented? How, if at all, can the balance be redressed? And what are the ramifications?
Using Nabil Shaban’s The First To Go (2007) as a case study, this paper addresses the theatrical memorialisation of the Nazis’ disabled victims. It begins with a brief examination of Martin Sherman’s Bent (1979), positing that theatre can teach audiences about previously-unknown Holocaust history (Plant, 1986). It utilises Shaban’s play to interrogate why the apparent socio-political acceptance of disabled people, such as the Equality Act (2010), is not reflected within Holocaust theatre. A close reading of The First To Go illustrates the breadth of the disabled Holocaust experience, from “Disabled Victims” to “Disabled Heroes” and “Disabled Villains” (Shaban, 2007) and, drawing upon Shaban’s personal experiences, this paper scrutinises why the play remains unstaged. It ultimately suggests that while plays can teach about Holocaust minorities while contemporaneously speaking out against contemporary prejudice, entrenched theatrical and social conventions pose significant issues in permitting these lessons to be taught.
Edward R. Isser (1997) has identified ‘three waves’ in the development of Anglophone Holocaust th... more Edward R. Isser (1997) has identified ‘three waves’ in the development of Anglophone Holocaust theatre: the first began in the Fifties with the predominance of The Diary of Anne Frank; the second arose in the Sixties after Eichmann’s trial; and the third came about in the Seventies and Eighties after various, historically-resonant events – such as the trial of John Demjanjuk and the resurgence of fascist European political parties – and growing awareness of the mortality of survivors. Plays about the Holocaust have been created for a variety of reasons: to teach new generations, to engage the wider public, to commemorate the victims, to arraign the perpetrators, and ultimately to consider the wider questions surrounding the genocide. But what have been the successes and pitfalls of Holocaust theatre? What have been its key social, cultural and political influences? How have tropes of Holocaust theatre been formed? Is there a place for Holocaust theatre in an increasingly digitised age?
Drawing upon original research and the work of scholars such as Isser, Robert Skloot, Christopher Bigsby and Gene A. Plunka, this engaging and evocative paper presents the history of Anglophone Holocaust theatre in twenty minutes. Amongst other aspects it investigates the development of the perpetrator perspective, the under-representation of ‘Holocaust minorities’, the rise and fall of the Holocaust musical, and the adaptation of true stories. The paper considers the rituals and politics interwoven throughout Holocaust theatre as each theatre event attempts to navigate the conventions and sensibilities laid down by those before it, especially in the onset of what I call the ‘fourth wave’: the approach of the post-survivor age. Finally, having reflected upon its rich and diverse history, this paper questions if there will be a need for Holocaust theatre after the survivors are gone – what place for it, and what purpose?
The concept of performance in the concentration camps is not a new one. Rovit and Goldfarb (1999)... more The concept of performance in the concentration camps is not a new one. Rovit and Goldfarb (1999) have chronicled a range of inmate performances from the cabarets of Theresienstadt to the variety shows at Auschwitz-Birkenau, created for many diverse reasons. Yet since the liberation of the camps there has been virtually no theatrical performance in these sites of memory. The very notion is generally seen as taboo, but the reasons for this are somewhat vague and appear to centre around the widespread idea of performance as ‘frivolous’; to perform within a concentration camp would be to somehow deface Holocaust memory and mock the suffering of those imprisoned there. Such ‘profane’ performance can be located within the ‘selfie’ photographs of tourists visiting the camps. But what of the daily shows that take place in the guise of guided tours – ‘sacred’ performances? What makes these performances acceptable to the public and the camp authorities, when theatrical performances are not? Can there ever be an acceptable theatrical performance within a concentration camp?
Taking Auschwitz-Birkenau as a case study, this paper seeks to address these questions through a considered discussion of ‘sacred’ and ‘profane’ performances in the camp. It begins by outlining the components of the guided tour, from the learned script of the guide to the ‘promenade performance’ nature of the space, and what makes this a ‘sacred’ performance. It defines the ‘profane’ performance hypothesis through a reflection upon several examples of tourist photographs taken within Auschwitz. It questions where site-specific theatrical performance would fall within these parameters through an interrogation of aspects including its purpose, the identity of the performers, the (intended) audience, and the short- and long-term ramifications for the performance and the camp. Ultimately, this paper probes whether site-specific performance at Auschwitz could ever be efficacious and anything but profane.
In Britain and America theatrical representations of the Holocaust have arisen from the predomina... more In Britain and America theatrical representations of the Holocaust have arisen from the predominant ‘structures of feeling’ within and of both countries as being Allied liberators and saviours. The majority of Anglo-American Holocaust plays are constructed in a manner that adheres to the resulting ‘Holocaust etiquette’ (Des Pres, 1987): specifically, the conventions determining how victims and perpetrators are portrayed, and the formulation of plays within the tragic mode (Isser, 1997). These conventions have helped to bring about a rise in ‘Holocaust fatigue’, a lack of empathy and interest in relation to the genocide (Dean, 2004). The role of Holocaust theatre to educate, engage and inform consequently faces new challenges, especially in terms of engaging spectators who may already be subject to Holocaust fatigue. One approach usually excluded through the constraints of Holocaust etiquette is that of comedy or associated forms. Of particular interest in the context of this paper is the notion of ‘Holocaust cabaret’ (Mitschke, 2013) and its use of ‘balagan’, or the inversion of Holocaust signs (Kaynar, 1998), in order to outrage and offend Anglo-American audiences in such a way as to push them towards a reconsideration of the Holocaust.
This controversial and thought-provoking paper begins by examining the development of, and differences between, British and American Holocaust cabaret in relation to respective national memories of the Holocaust. It analyses two case studies, Roy Kift’s Camp Comedy (1999) and Eugene Lion’s Sammy’s Follies (2003), to discuss the varying efficacy of the balagan implemented within each, particularly in terms of spectatorial sensibilities across British and American society and culture. Ultimately this paper questions which country may be perceived as breaking away from the boundaries of Holocaust etiquette in the theatre most effectively through Holocaust cabaret, and the implications that this has surrounding future remembrance of the Holocaust.
"In recent years there has been increased interest in narratives of the Holocaust perpetrator, es... more "In recent years there has been increased interest in narratives of the Holocaust perpetrator, especially with growing awareness of the dwindling number of survivors (Crownshaw, 2011; Levine, 2013), and this interest is also manifest in the theatre. Surprisingly, a number of British Holocaust plays that deal with perpetrators seek to emphasise their humanity over the typical image of ‘Nazi as monster’ (Booker, 2004), particularly those that portray historical figures. But why should audiences be encouraged to empathise with Nazis? What purpose does this serve? Is it really necessary to dwell upon the perspective of the perpetrators of a genocide that occurred seventy years ago?
This paper addresses these questions using three case studies: Hess (1978) by Michael Burrell, Albert Speer (2000) by David Edgar and Blonde Poison (2013) by Gail Louw. It begins with a brief outline of the facts surrounding the real-life protagonists – Hitler’s deputy, Rudolf Hess; Hitler’s architect, Albert Speer; and Jewish victim-persecutor, Stella Goldschlag – and compares these ‘histories’ with how the plays differ from or attempt to justify them. It investigates how each play encourages audience empathy, from an ‘appropriate affective response’ (Baron-Cohen, 2011) to ‘empathic anger’ (Hoffman, 1987), to varying extents, such as Speer’s ‘good Nazi’ and Goldschlag’s ‘questionable collaborator’, and how this challenges spectators to question how they would act in similar circumstances.
Ultimately, this paper posits that such plays should not allow audiences to excuse the actions of perpetrators, but simultaneously that by permitting the perpetrator perspective to be considered this allows spectators to locate themselves in the Nazi and vice versa, utilising the theatre as both an educational resource and a crucible in which audiences can potentially confront the darkness of human nature in both the characters onstage and themselves."
In Holocaust theatre, ‘balagan’ is the inversion of ‘Holocaust signs’ – the shaved head, the tatt... more In Holocaust theatre, ‘balagan’ is the inversion of ‘Holocaust signs’ – the shaved head, the tattooed arm, etc – to re-invest them with horror (Kaynar, 1998). It is rarely used and functions through outraging the sanctity of the Holocaust and violating ‘Holocaust etiquette’ (Des Pres, 1988); its purpose is to engage audiences with the Holocaust through causing offence and simultaneously encouraging consideration of the reasons for that offence. Child protagonists are found throughout Holocaust theatre – from "The Diary of Anne Frank" (1956) to "Kindertransport" (2008) – and while useful in engaging audience empathy, they are problematic in the context of the frequently resulting “sugar-coating” of the Holocaust (Weissman, 2004) and creation of the ‘Holocaust fairytale’. As the time approaches when there will be no survivors left to bear witness, and as ‘Holocaust fatigue’ encroaches into a society dominated by contemporary traumas (Blumenthal, 2000; Duggan, 2012), there is renewed urgency in Holocaust theatre to make audiences engage. But which theatrical device is better suited to stimulate public interest and understanding: balagan or child protagonists?
Beginning by discussing the efficacy of child protagonists, this paper uses three case studies – Douglas W. Larche’s "Number the Stars" (1996), Joanna Halpert Kraus’s "Remember My Name" (1989) and Julian Garner’s "The Flight into Egypt" (1996) – to demonstrate the usefulness and dangers of Holocaust fairytales, and posits the need for ‘grittier’ representations within a conventional Holocaust theatre paradigm. It examines the use of balagan in two Holocaust cabarets, Roy Kift’s "Camp Comedy" (1999) and Eugene Lion’s "Sammy’s Follies" (2003), to consider how the subversion of Holocaust etiquette creates renewed audience interest in the Holocaust.
Ultimately, this paper interrogates which form is most effective in causing audiences to not only engage with what they witness onstage but potentially, through doing so, to engage with the events of the Holocaust itself.
"Nearly seven decades after the Holocaust, the role of empathy in engaging new generations with t... more "Nearly seven decades after the Holocaust, the role of empathy in engaging new generations with the Nazi genocide is vital. This is especially true in the context of the contemporary ‘traumatised’ world, which is filled with images of trauma and suffering through the dominance of mass media (Duggan, 2012), and in which terms such as ‘Holocaust fatigue’ are increasingly being used. But how is it possible to engage the empathy of theatre audiences in relation to the Holocaust?
Beginning with a brief comparison of the equal but opposite dangers of over-empathising and Holocaust disassociation, this paper defines the meanings of ‘sympathy’ and ‘empathy’ in relation to the primary purpose of Holocaust drama: eliciting understanding, emotional response and a desire to make ‘Never Again’ a reality on the part of the audience. It argues the case for the use of child protagonists in Holocaust drama as a means of effectively engaging the empathy of audience members, and subsequently demonstrates the different levels of empathic efficacy in three case studies: "Number the Stars" by American playwright Douglas W. Larche, in which two Danish sisters and their family help their Jewish neighbours flee from occupied Denmark to safety in Sweden; "Remember My Name" by American playwright Joanna Halpert Kraus, in which a young French-Jewish girl is sent into hiding alone and becomes involved with the Resistance before her father returns from the concentration camps to claim her; and "The Flight into Egypt" by British playwright Julian Garner, in which a teenage artist flees her home in rural Poland after the murder of her family and is hidden in Krakow by a Polish caretaker.
This paper examines how each play follows a general mode of Holocaust representation, as defined by Edward R. Isser (1997), and follows this with an exploration of not just how the audience’s empathy is elicited by each child protagonist, but how each play respectively takes the audience deeper into the darkness of the Holocaust. It discusses how "Number the Stars" and "Remember My Name" are more closely aligned with stereotypical theatrical representations of the Holocaust, particularly in relation to dramaturgical aspects such as character (the ‘innocent’ who encounters evil but ultimately retains their innocence; the martyred Resistance fighter; the ‘passive Jew’; and so on) and action/plot; both plays feature what Gary Weissman (2004) refers to as a ‘sugar-coating’ of the Holocaust, with clearly-defined ‘happy endings’ for their protagonists. This paper compares the ‘sugar-coated’ aspects of these plays alongside the grittier and much darker "The Flight into Egypt", in which the audience are given a deep sense of the danger and horrors faced by the protagonist through the murder of her family and the action of the second act, centring upon her enforced concealment in a wall cavity. The play’s conclusion not only does not offer a ‘happy ending’, or even a defined resolution, but raises pertinent questions surrounding the fate of, and attitudes towards, surviving Jews immediately after the Holocaust.
By comparing and contrasting the three case studies, this paper proposes that child protagonists can be used to effectively evoke empathy from theatre audiences, but that individual plays achieve this with varying degrees of success. Through a close reading of "Number the Stars", "Remember My Name" and "The Flight into Egypt", it posits that different levels of empathy are engaged depending on the theatrical mode used and dramaturgical decisions made by the playwright. It argues that a grittier, less clear-cut and less ‘sugar-coated’ portrayal, combined with a central child protagonist, enables an audience to empathise through the utilisation of less stereotypical and more ‘human’ elements, which bring the play closer to the Holocaust. Most importantly, this paper discusses how through empathising with a child protagonist an audience is potentially brought to look more closely at the events of the Holocaust itself."
Martin Sherman’s 'Bent' (1979) was the first play of its kind to address the subject of the queer... more Martin Sherman’s 'Bent' (1979) was the first play of its kind to address the subject of the queer Holocaust experience. According to Sherman the play is based upon historical truth, and 'Bent' not only exposed a hidden history but aimed to bring about comparison between historical and contemporary queer oppression. In doing so, 'Bent' both performs history and rejects popular notions of it.
Upon the play’s first production in London in 1979, the critical reception was predominantly negative. Few British critics voiced favourable opinions of it, and many chose to focus upon Sherman’s ‘inability’ as a playwright in order to vent their criticisms of a play that they could not understand in either historical or socio-political terms. By the time of 'Bent’s' revival in 1990, the socio-political landscape had changed forever; 'Bent' was lauded by the critics and hailed for its role as both a ‘history lesson’ and a warning against prejudice. But what caused this radical shift in opinion? Why did the critics reject 'Bent' in 1979 only to welcome it eleven years later?
Focusing on Felman’s theory of precocious testimony, the paper is drawn from original research using archival sources, including interviews with Sherman and Ian McKellen, and publications by writers such as Shoshana Felman and Richard Plant. It examines the 1979 and 1990 London productions of 'Bent' and begins by briefly recounting the queer Holocaust experience from 1933 to after the Allied ‘liberation’ and beyond. It describes how the play – initially rejected by producers – was finally produced in 1979. Ultimately, the paper investigates the reaction of British theatre critics to 'Bent' in order to demonstrate how both socio-political influences and ‘accepted’ history impact upon the acceptance of a play that attempts to represent history.
There are three stage adaptations of Anne Frank’s 'Diary of a Young Girl', and this paper seeks t... more There are three stage adaptations of Anne Frank’s 'Diary of a Young Girl', and this paper seeks to look at the identity politics and cultural ideologies surrounding each one. From Meyer Levin’s ‘too Jewish’ play, to Frances Goodrich and Albert Hackett’s ‘universal’ Anne, and Wendy Kesselman’s Jewish teenager, I examine how each writer took Anne and made her their own based upon their own cultural identity.
This paper examines if we need universality to tell stories of the Holocaust and why. It considers why the writers adapted the 'Diary' and their purposes in doing so, and looks at how socio-political circumstances dictated the theatrical shaping of Anne, questioning if this is still the case in contemporary society. It explores the cultural memory of Anne, how this portrayal of her came about, and how this has subsequently led to not only a distorted view of her but also had an impact on attitudes towards the Holocaust. This includes Otto Frank’s editing of his daughter’s diary and his part in the theatrical shaping of her, including the long-running battle with Meyer Levin over Anne’s Jewish identity.
In a contemporary society that is inured to violence, this paper argues how Anne’s story is more important than ever and why we cannot allow the history of the stage adaptations to stand in the way of its greater significance. It suggests that Kesselman’s version is the most appropriate in its portrayal of Anne’s personal and Jewish identity, and explores both how this has implications on its audience’s views of the Holocaust and why this is so important in the world today.
Ultimately, this paper questions whether the Holocaust can ever be truly represented on the stage and if so, whether we have the right to mould historical figures to suit our own cultural ideals in order to do so.
Book Reviews by Samantha Mitschke
Book review, Holocaust Studies: A Journal of Culture and History.
New Theatre Quarterly (32.1). February 2016.
New Theatre Quarterly, Aug 2015
New Theatre Quarterly, Aug 2013
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Websites by Samantha Mitschke
Publications by Samantha Mitschke
new one. Rovit and Goldfarb (1999) have chronicled a range of
inmate performances from the cabarets of Theresienstadt to the
variety shows at Auschwitz-Birkenau, created for many diverse
reasons. Yet since the liberation of the camps there has been
virtually no theatrical performance in these sites of memory. The
very notion is generally seen as taboo, but the reasons for this are
somewhat vague and appear to centre around the widespread
idea of performance as ‘frivolous’; to perform within a
concentration camp would be to somehow deface Holocaust
memory and mock the suffering of those imprisoned there. Such
‘profane’ performance can be located within the ‘selfie’
photographs of tourists visiting the camps. But what of the daily
shows that take place in the guise of guided tours – ‘sacred’
performances? What makes these performances acceptable to the
public and the camp authorities, when theatrical performances
are not? Can there ever be an acceptable theatrical performance
within a concentration camp?
Taking Auschwitz-Birkenau as a case study, this article seeks to
address these questions through a considered discussion of
‘sacred’ and ‘profane’ performances in the camp. It begins by
outlining the components of the guided tour, from the learned
script of the guide to the ‘promenade performance’ nature of the
space, and what makes this a ‘sacred’ performance. It defines the
‘profane’ performance hypothesis through a reflection upon
several examples of tourist photographs taken within Auschwitz. It
questions where site-specific theatrical performance would fall
within these parameters through an interrogation of aspects
including its purpose, the identity of the performers, the
(intended) audience, and the short- and long-term ramifications
for the performance and the camp. Ultimately, this article probes
whether site-specific performance at Auschwitz could ever be
efficacious and anything but profane.
My contribution to this collection is an expanded version of a paper originally given at the "History, Memory, Performance" conference at the University of Ottawa in April 2012.
Conference Presentations by Samantha Mitschke
This paper draws upon case studies from British and American theatre to interrogate the extent to which different portrayals of Nazi sexuality can have the potential to ‘associate or alienate’ audiences within a ‘sexually-liberal’ society. It utilises Angus Jackson’s stage adaptation of The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas (2014) and David Edgar’s Albert Speer (2000) to discuss how extramarital affairs are used to encourage spectator sympathy. It considers the sexuality of female perpetrators through Gail Louw’s Blonde Poison (2012) and Jo Davidsmeyer’s Angel: A Nightmare in Two Acts (1987), predominantly through the notions of seduction and motherhood, and how these can elicit both sympathy and revulsion. It investigates the ‘perverse’ aspects of Nazi sexuality represented in Martin Sherman’s Bent (1979/1998) and Eugene Lion’s Sammy’s Follies: A Criminal Comedy (2003) to examine how these can contemporaneously alienate and cause deeper consideration of the Holocaust, and ultimately questions the efficacy of theatrical representations of the perversity of perpetrators.
Using Nabil Shaban’s The First To Go (2007) as a case study, this paper addresses the theatrical memorialisation of the Nazis’ disabled victims. It begins with a brief examination of Martin Sherman’s Bent (1979), positing that theatre can teach audiences about previously-unknown Holocaust history (Plant, 1986). It utilises Shaban’s play to interrogate why the apparent socio-political acceptance of disabled people, such as the Equality Act (2010), is not reflected within Holocaust theatre. A close reading of The First To Go illustrates the breadth of the disabled Holocaust experience, from “Disabled Victims” to “Disabled Heroes” and “Disabled Villains” (Shaban, 2007) and, drawing upon Shaban’s personal experiences, this paper scrutinises why the play remains unstaged. It ultimately suggests that while plays can teach about Holocaust minorities while contemporaneously speaking out against contemporary prejudice, entrenched theatrical and social conventions pose significant issues in permitting these lessons to be taught.
Drawing upon original research and the work of scholars such as Isser, Robert Skloot, Christopher Bigsby and Gene A. Plunka, this engaging and evocative paper presents the history of Anglophone Holocaust theatre in twenty minutes. Amongst other aspects it investigates the development of the perpetrator perspective, the under-representation of ‘Holocaust minorities’, the rise and fall of the Holocaust musical, and the adaptation of true stories. The paper considers the rituals and politics interwoven throughout Holocaust theatre as each theatre event attempts to navigate the conventions and sensibilities laid down by those before it, especially in the onset of what I call the ‘fourth wave’: the approach of the post-survivor age. Finally, having reflected upon its rich and diverse history, this paper questions if there will be a need for Holocaust theatre after the survivors are gone – what place for it, and what purpose?
Taking Auschwitz-Birkenau as a case study, this paper seeks to address these questions through a considered discussion of ‘sacred’ and ‘profane’ performances in the camp. It begins by outlining the components of the guided tour, from the learned script of the guide to the ‘promenade performance’ nature of the space, and what makes this a ‘sacred’ performance. It defines the ‘profane’ performance hypothesis through a reflection upon several examples of tourist photographs taken within Auschwitz. It questions where site-specific theatrical performance would fall within these parameters through an interrogation of aspects including its purpose, the identity of the performers, the (intended) audience, and the short- and long-term ramifications for the performance and the camp. Ultimately, this paper probes whether site-specific performance at Auschwitz could ever be efficacious and anything but profane.
This controversial and thought-provoking paper begins by examining the development of, and differences between, British and American Holocaust cabaret in relation to respective national memories of the Holocaust. It analyses two case studies, Roy Kift’s Camp Comedy (1999) and Eugene Lion’s Sammy’s Follies (2003), to discuss the varying efficacy of the balagan implemented within each, particularly in terms of spectatorial sensibilities across British and American society and culture. Ultimately this paper questions which country may be perceived as breaking away from the boundaries of Holocaust etiquette in the theatre most effectively through Holocaust cabaret, and the implications that this has surrounding future remembrance of the Holocaust.
This paper addresses these questions using three case studies: Hess (1978) by Michael Burrell, Albert Speer (2000) by David Edgar and Blonde Poison (2013) by Gail Louw. It begins with a brief outline of the facts surrounding the real-life protagonists – Hitler’s deputy, Rudolf Hess; Hitler’s architect, Albert Speer; and Jewish victim-persecutor, Stella Goldschlag – and compares these ‘histories’ with how the plays differ from or attempt to justify them. It investigates how each play encourages audience empathy, from an ‘appropriate affective response’ (Baron-Cohen, 2011) to ‘empathic anger’ (Hoffman, 1987), to varying extents, such as Speer’s ‘good Nazi’ and Goldschlag’s ‘questionable collaborator’, and how this challenges spectators to question how they would act in similar circumstances.
Ultimately, this paper posits that such plays should not allow audiences to excuse the actions of perpetrators, but simultaneously that by permitting the perpetrator perspective to be considered this allows spectators to locate themselves in the Nazi and vice versa, utilising the theatre as both an educational resource and a crucible in which audiences can potentially confront the darkness of human nature in both the characters onstage and themselves."
Beginning by discussing the efficacy of child protagonists, this paper uses three case studies – Douglas W. Larche’s "Number the Stars" (1996), Joanna Halpert Kraus’s "Remember My Name" (1989) and Julian Garner’s "The Flight into Egypt" (1996) – to demonstrate the usefulness and dangers of Holocaust fairytales, and posits the need for ‘grittier’ representations within a conventional Holocaust theatre paradigm. It examines the use of balagan in two Holocaust cabarets, Roy Kift’s "Camp Comedy" (1999) and Eugene Lion’s "Sammy’s Follies" (2003), to consider how the subversion of Holocaust etiquette creates renewed audience interest in the Holocaust.
Ultimately, this paper interrogates which form is most effective in causing audiences to not only engage with what they witness onstage but potentially, through doing so, to engage with the events of the Holocaust itself.
Beginning with a brief comparison of the equal but opposite dangers of over-empathising and Holocaust disassociation, this paper defines the meanings of ‘sympathy’ and ‘empathy’ in relation to the primary purpose of Holocaust drama: eliciting understanding, emotional response and a desire to make ‘Never Again’ a reality on the part of the audience. It argues the case for the use of child protagonists in Holocaust drama as a means of effectively engaging the empathy of audience members, and subsequently demonstrates the different levels of empathic efficacy in three case studies: "Number the Stars" by American playwright Douglas W. Larche, in which two Danish sisters and their family help their Jewish neighbours flee from occupied Denmark to safety in Sweden; "Remember My Name" by American playwright Joanna Halpert Kraus, in which a young French-Jewish girl is sent into hiding alone and becomes involved with the Resistance before her father returns from the concentration camps to claim her; and "The Flight into Egypt" by British playwright Julian Garner, in which a teenage artist flees her home in rural Poland after the murder of her family and is hidden in Krakow by a Polish caretaker.
This paper examines how each play follows a general mode of Holocaust representation, as defined by Edward R. Isser (1997), and follows this with an exploration of not just how the audience’s empathy is elicited by each child protagonist, but how each play respectively takes the audience deeper into the darkness of the Holocaust. It discusses how "Number the Stars" and "Remember My Name" are more closely aligned with stereotypical theatrical representations of the Holocaust, particularly in relation to dramaturgical aspects such as character (the ‘innocent’ who encounters evil but ultimately retains their innocence; the martyred Resistance fighter; the ‘passive Jew’; and so on) and action/plot; both plays feature what Gary Weissman (2004) refers to as a ‘sugar-coating’ of the Holocaust, with clearly-defined ‘happy endings’ for their protagonists. This paper compares the ‘sugar-coated’ aspects of these plays alongside the grittier and much darker "The Flight into Egypt", in which the audience are given a deep sense of the danger and horrors faced by the protagonist through the murder of her family and the action of the second act, centring upon her enforced concealment in a wall cavity. The play’s conclusion not only does not offer a ‘happy ending’, or even a defined resolution, but raises pertinent questions surrounding the fate of, and attitudes towards, surviving Jews immediately after the Holocaust.
By comparing and contrasting the three case studies, this paper proposes that child protagonists can be used to effectively evoke empathy from theatre audiences, but that individual plays achieve this with varying degrees of success. Through a close reading of "Number the Stars", "Remember My Name" and "The Flight into Egypt", it posits that different levels of empathy are engaged depending on the theatrical mode used and dramaturgical decisions made by the playwright. It argues that a grittier, less clear-cut and less ‘sugar-coated’ portrayal, combined with a central child protagonist, enables an audience to empathise through the utilisation of less stereotypical and more ‘human’ elements, which bring the play closer to the Holocaust. Most importantly, this paper discusses how through empathising with a child protagonist an audience is potentially brought to look more closely at the events of the Holocaust itself."
Upon the play’s first production in London in 1979, the critical reception was predominantly negative. Few British critics voiced favourable opinions of it, and many chose to focus upon Sherman’s ‘inability’ as a playwright in order to vent their criticisms of a play that they could not understand in either historical or socio-political terms. By the time of 'Bent’s' revival in 1990, the socio-political landscape had changed forever; 'Bent' was lauded by the critics and hailed for its role as both a ‘history lesson’ and a warning against prejudice. But what caused this radical shift in opinion? Why did the critics reject 'Bent' in 1979 only to welcome it eleven years later?
Focusing on Felman’s theory of precocious testimony, the paper is drawn from original research using archival sources, including interviews with Sherman and Ian McKellen, and publications by writers such as Shoshana Felman and Richard Plant. It examines the 1979 and 1990 London productions of 'Bent' and begins by briefly recounting the queer Holocaust experience from 1933 to after the Allied ‘liberation’ and beyond. It describes how the play – initially rejected by producers – was finally produced in 1979. Ultimately, the paper investigates the reaction of British theatre critics to 'Bent' in order to demonstrate how both socio-political influences and ‘accepted’ history impact upon the acceptance of a play that attempts to represent history.
This paper examines if we need universality to tell stories of the Holocaust and why. It considers why the writers adapted the 'Diary' and their purposes in doing so, and looks at how socio-political circumstances dictated the theatrical shaping of Anne, questioning if this is still the case in contemporary society. It explores the cultural memory of Anne, how this portrayal of her came about, and how this has subsequently led to not only a distorted view of her but also had an impact on attitudes towards the Holocaust. This includes Otto Frank’s editing of his daughter’s diary and his part in the theatrical shaping of her, including the long-running battle with Meyer Levin over Anne’s Jewish identity.
In a contemporary society that is inured to violence, this paper argues how Anne’s story is more important than ever and why we cannot allow the history of the stage adaptations to stand in the way of its greater significance. It suggests that Kesselman’s version is the most appropriate in its portrayal of Anne’s personal and Jewish identity, and explores both how this has implications on its audience’s views of the Holocaust and why this is so important in the world today.
Ultimately, this paper questions whether the Holocaust can ever be truly represented on the stage and if so, whether we have the right to mould historical figures to suit our own cultural ideals in order to do so.
Book Reviews by Samantha Mitschke
new one. Rovit and Goldfarb (1999) have chronicled a range of
inmate performances from the cabarets of Theresienstadt to the
variety shows at Auschwitz-Birkenau, created for many diverse
reasons. Yet since the liberation of the camps there has been
virtually no theatrical performance in these sites of memory. The
very notion is generally seen as taboo, but the reasons for this are
somewhat vague and appear to centre around the widespread
idea of performance as ‘frivolous’; to perform within a
concentration camp would be to somehow deface Holocaust
memory and mock the suffering of those imprisoned there. Such
‘profane’ performance can be located within the ‘selfie’
photographs of tourists visiting the camps. But what of the daily
shows that take place in the guise of guided tours – ‘sacred’
performances? What makes these performances acceptable to the
public and the camp authorities, when theatrical performances
are not? Can there ever be an acceptable theatrical performance
within a concentration camp?
Taking Auschwitz-Birkenau as a case study, this article seeks to
address these questions through a considered discussion of
‘sacred’ and ‘profane’ performances in the camp. It begins by
outlining the components of the guided tour, from the learned
script of the guide to the ‘promenade performance’ nature of the
space, and what makes this a ‘sacred’ performance. It defines the
‘profane’ performance hypothesis through a reflection upon
several examples of tourist photographs taken within Auschwitz. It
questions where site-specific theatrical performance would fall
within these parameters through an interrogation of aspects
including its purpose, the identity of the performers, the
(intended) audience, and the short- and long-term ramifications
for the performance and the camp. Ultimately, this article probes
whether site-specific performance at Auschwitz could ever be
efficacious and anything but profane.
My contribution to this collection is an expanded version of a paper originally given at the "History, Memory, Performance" conference at the University of Ottawa in April 2012.
This paper draws upon case studies from British and American theatre to interrogate the extent to which different portrayals of Nazi sexuality can have the potential to ‘associate or alienate’ audiences within a ‘sexually-liberal’ society. It utilises Angus Jackson’s stage adaptation of The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas (2014) and David Edgar’s Albert Speer (2000) to discuss how extramarital affairs are used to encourage spectator sympathy. It considers the sexuality of female perpetrators through Gail Louw’s Blonde Poison (2012) and Jo Davidsmeyer’s Angel: A Nightmare in Two Acts (1987), predominantly through the notions of seduction and motherhood, and how these can elicit both sympathy and revulsion. It investigates the ‘perverse’ aspects of Nazi sexuality represented in Martin Sherman’s Bent (1979/1998) and Eugene Lion’s Sammy’s Follies: A Criminal Comedy (2003) to examine how these can contemporaneously alienate and cause deeper consideration of the Holocaust, and ultimately questions the efficacy of theatrical representations of the perversity of perpetrators.
Using Nabil Shaban’s The First To Go (2007) as a case study, this paper addresses the theatrical memorialisation of the Nazis’ disabled victims. It begins with a brief examination of Martin Sherman’s Bent (1979), positing that theatre can teach audiences about previously-unknown Holocaust history (Plant, 1986). It utilises Shaban’s play to interrogate why the apparent socio-political acceptance of disabled people, such as the Equality Act (2010), is not reflected within Holocaust theatre. A close reading of The First To Go illustrates the breadth of the disabled Holocaust experience, from “Disabled Victims” to “Disabled Heroes” and “Disabled Villains” (Shaban, 2007) and, drawing upon Shaban’s personal experiences, this paper scrutinises why the play remains unstaged. It ultimately suggests that while plays can teach about Holocaust minorities while contemporaneously speaking out against contemporary prejudice, entrenched theatrical and social conventions pose significant issues in permitting these lessons to be taught.
Drawing upon original research and the work of scholars such as Isser, Robert Skloot, Christopher Bigsby and Gene A. Plunka, this engaging and evocative paper presents the history of Anglophone Holocaust theatre in twenty minutes. Amongst other aspects it investigates the development of the perpetrator perspective, the under-representation of ‘Holocaust minorities’, the rise and fall of the Holocaust musical, and the adaptation of true stories. The paper considers the rituals and politics interwoven throughout Holocaust theatre as each theatre event attempts to navigate the conventions and sensibilities laid down by those before it, especially in the onset of what I call the ‘fourth wave’: the approach of the post-survivor age. Finally, having reflected upon its rich and diverse history, this paper questions if there will be a need for Holocaust theatre after the survivors are gone – what place for it, and what purpose?
Taking Auschwitz-Birkenau as a case study, this paper seeks to address these questions through a considered discussion of ‘sacred’ and ‘profane’ performances in the camp. It begins by outlining the components of the guided tour, from the learned script of the guide to the ‘promenade performance’ nature of the space, and what makes this a ‘sacred’ performance. It defines the ‘profane’ performance hypothesis through a reflection upon several examples of tourist photographs taken within Auschwitz. It questions where site-specific theatrical performance would fall within these parameters through an interrogation of aspects including its purpose, the identity of the performers, the (intended) audience, and the short- and long-term ramifications for the performance and the camp. Ultimately, this paper probes whether site-specific performance at Auschwitz could ever be efficacious and anything but profane.
This controversial and thought-provoking paper begins by examining the development of, and differences between, British and American Holocaust cabaret in relation to respective national memories of the Holocaust. It analyses two case studies, Roy Kift’s Camp Comedy (1999) and Eugene Lion’s Sammy’s Follies (2003), to discuss the varying efficacy of the balagan implemented within each, particularly in terms of spectatorial sensibilities across British and American society and culture. Ultimately this paper questions which country may be perceived as breaking away from the boundaries of Holocaust etiquette in the theatre most effectively through Holocaust cabaret, and the implications that this has surrounding future remembrance of the Holocaust.
This paper addresses these questions using three case studies: Hess (1978) by Michael Burrell, Albert Speer (2000) by David Edgar and Blonde Poison (2013) by Gail Louw. It begins with a brief outline of the facts surrounding the real-life protagonists – Hitler’s deputy, Rudolf Hess; Hitler’s architect, Albert Speer; and Jewish victim-persecutor, Stella Goldschlag – and compares these ‘histories’ with how the plays differ from or attempt to justify them. It investigates how each play encourages audience empathy, from an ‘appropriate affective response’ (Baron-Cohen, 2011) to ‘empathic anger’ (Hoffman, 1987), to varying extents, such as Speer’s ‘good Nazi’ and Goldschlag’s ‘questionable collaborator’, and how this challenges spectators to question how they would act in similar circumstances.
Ultimately, this paper posits that such plays should not allow audiences to excuse the actions of perpetrators, but simultaneously that by permitting the perpetrator perspective to be considered this allows spectators to locate themselves in the Nazi and vice versa, utilising the theatre as both an educational resource and a crucible in which audiences can potentially confront the darkness of human nature in both the characters onstage and themselves."
Beginning by discussing the efficacy of child protagonists, this paper uses three case studies – Douglas W. Larche’s "Number the Stars" (1996), Joanna Halpert Kraus’s "Remember My Name" (1989) and Julian Garner’s "The Flight into Egypt" (1996) – to demonstrate the usefulness and dangers of Holocaust fairytales, and posits the need for ‘grittier’ representations within a conventional Holocaust theatre paradigm. It examines the use of balagan in two Holocaust cabarets, Roy Kift’s "Camp Comedy" (1999) and Eugene Lion’s "Sammy’s Follies" (2003), to consider how the subversion of Holocaust etiquette creates renewed audience interest in the Holocaust.
Ultimately, this paper interrogates which form is most effective in causing audiences to not only engage with what they witness onstage but potentially, through doing so, to engage with the events of the Holocaust itself.
Beginning with a brief comparison of the equal but opposite dangers of over-empathising and Holocaust disassociation, this paper defines the meanings of ‘sympathy’ and ‘empathy’ in relation to the primary purpose of Holocaust drama: eliciting understanding, emotional response and a desire to make ‘Never Again’ a reality on the part of the audience. It argues the case for the use of child protagonists in Holocaust drama as a means of effectively engaging the empathy of audience members, and subsequently demonstrates the different levels of empathic efficacy in three case studies: "Number the Stars" by American playwright Douglas W. Larche, in which two Danish sisters and their family help their Jewish neighbours flee from occupied Denmark to safety in Sweden; "Remember My Name" by American playwright Joanna Halpert Kraus, in which a young French-Jewish girl is sent into hiding alone and becomes involved with the Resistance before her father returns from the concentration camps to claim her; and "The Flight into Egypt" by British playwright Julian Garner, in which a teenage artist flees her home in rural Poland after the murder of her family and is hidden in Krakow by a Polish caretaker.
This paper examines how each play follows a general mode of Holocaust representation, as defined by Edward R. Isser (1997), and follows this with an exploration of not just how the audience’s empathy is elicited by each child protagonist, but how each play respectively takes the audience deeper into the darkness of the Holocaust. It discusses how "Number the Stars" and "Remember My Name" are more closely aligned with stereotypical theatrical representations of the Holocaust, particularly in relation to dramaturgical aspects such as character (the ‘innocent’ who encounters evil but ultimately retains their innocence; the martyred Resistance fighter; the ‘passive Jew’; and so on) and action/plot; both plays feature what Gary Weissman (2004) refers to as a ‘sugar-coating’ of the Holocaust, with clearly-defined ‘happy endings’ for their protagonists. This paper compares the ‘sugar-coated’ aspects of these plays alongside the grittier and much darker "The Flight into Egypt", in which the audience are given a deep sense of the danger and horrors faced by the protagonist through the murder of her family and the action of the second act, centring upon her enforced concealment in a wall cavity. The play’s conclusion not only does not offer a ‘happy ending’, or even a defined resolution, but raises pertinent questions surrounding the fate of, and attitudes towards, surviving Jews immediately after the Holocaust.
By comparing and contrasting the three case studies, this paper proposes that child protagonists can be used to effectively evoke empathy from theatre audiences, but that individual plays achieve this with varying degrees of success. Through a close reading of "Number the Stars", "Remember My Name" and "The Flight into Egypt", it posits that different levels of empathy are engaged depending on the theatrical mode used and dramaturgical decisions made by the playwright. It argues that a grittier, less clear-cut and less ‘sugar-coated’ portrayal, combined with a central child protagonist, enables an audience to empathise through the utilisation of less stereotypical and more ‘human’ elements, which bring the play closer to the Holocaust. Most importantly, this paper discusses how through empathising with a child protagonist an audience is potentially brought to look more closely at the events of the Holocaust itself."
Upon the play’s first production in London in 1979, the critical reception was predominantly negative. Few British critics voiced favourable opinions of it, and many chose to focus upon Sherman’s ‘inability’ as a playwright in order to vent their criticisms of a play that they could not understand in either historical or socio-political terms. By the time of 'Bent’s' revival in 1990, the socio-political landscape had changed forever; 'Bent' was lauded by the critics and hailed for its role as both a ‘history lesson’ and a warning against prejudice. But what caused this radical shift in opinion? Why did the critics reject 'Bent' in 1979 only to welcome it eleven years later?
Focusing on Felman’s theory of precocious testimony, the paper is drawn from original research using archival sources, including interviews with Sherman and Ian McKellen, and publications by writers such as Shoshana Felman and Richard Plant. It examines the 1979 and 1990 London productions of 'Bent' and begins by briefly recounting the queer Holocaust experience from 1933 to after the Allied ‘liberation’ and beyond. It describes how the play – initially rejected by producers – was finally produced in 1979. Ultimately, the paper investigates the reaction of British theatre critics to 'Bent' in order to demonstrate how both socio-political influences and ‘accepted’ history impact upon the acceptance of a play that attempts to represent history.
This paper examines if we need universality to tell stories of the Holocaust and why. It considers why the writers adapted the 'Diary' and their purposes in doing so, and looks at how socio-political circumstances dictated the theatrical shaping of Anne, questioning if this is still the case in contemporary society. It explores the cultural memory of Anne, how this portrayal of her came about, and how this has subsequently led to not only a distorted view of her but also had an impact on attitudes towards the Holocaust. This includes Otto Frank’s editing of his daughter’s diary and his part in the theatrical shaping of her, including the long-running battle with Meyer Levin over Anne’s Jewish identity.
In a contemporary society that is inured to violence, this paper argues how Anne’s story is more important than ever and why we cannot allow the history of the stage adaptations to stand in the way of its greater significance. It suggests that Kesselman’s version is the most appropriate in its portrayal of Anne’s personal and Jewish identity, and explores both how this has implications on its audience’s views of the Holocaust and why this is so important in the world today.
Ultimately, this paper questions whether the Holocaust can ever be truly represented on the stage and if so, whether we have the right to mould historical figures to suit our own cultural ideals in order to do so.