The Artists’ Affair Part 1: Leo Haas

Terezin Artists, Terezin Musicians, Terezin storytellers, , , ,

On July 17th, 1944, a group of artists were summoned to the office of Terezin Commandant Karl Rahm. Their names were Leo Haas, Otto Ungar, Bedrich Fritta and Felix Bloch, and they worked in the drafting office at Terezin. Their crime: drawing and painting the true nature of the ghetto. They were interrogated by Rahm, and SS officers Captain Moes, Captain Hans Gunther and the infamous Colonel Adolf Eichmann. The officers wanted to know why the artists painted what they did, and accused them of being part of a Communist plot. The artists denied the Communist accusations, and stated that they simply drew and painted what they saw, the reality that surrounded them. The men were then brought to the damp cellar of a barrack, where they were again interrogated and questioned about their alleged Communist ties. Ultimately the officers stopped questioning them and transferred them and their families to the Small Fortress, where they endured more interrogations, beatings and torture.

Enrtance to the Small Fortress at Terezin

The interrogation and subsequent imprisonment of these men and their families in the Small Fortress of Terezin would come to be known as “The Artists’ Affair”. What follows are the stories of these men, beginning with Leo Haas, the one member of the group who survived the war.

Leo Haas was born in 1901 in Opava, Czechoslovakia and was interested in art from a young age, showing promise in painting and as a piano player. As a teenager, an art teacher recommended that he continue his art studies, and Leo moved to Karlsruhe, Germany to study at an art academy there. To fund his studies, Leo played the piano in local bars and restaurants – and painted the scenes he observed around him. In 1921 he moved to Berlin where his finished his studies and began working in a graphic design studio. He spend time in Paris and Vienna before marrying Sophie Hermann in 1929 and settling in his hometown of Opava. Haas became an established portrait painter and director of a local printing house, and was also known as a caricaturist.

Leo’s first encounter with the Nazis came in 1937, who declared his caricatures “degenerate” and “Communist”, which foreshadowed the events that would happen at Terezin. Haas, his second wife Erna, and her family were sent to Terezin at the end of September 1942. Haas was soon transferred to the graphic department of the ghetto, where his primary task was making architectural charts. Other well-known artists also worked in the department, including Otto Ungar and Bedřich Fritta, who would become a close friend of Haas. The men were often able to visit other parts of the ghetto, and they secretly began to paint and draw what they observed. Haas depicted transports, scenes from the ghetto café – where no food or drinks could be found, performances, bread rations being transported in a hearse, and many other aspects of life in the camp. He was known for being very politically minded, but known for his compassion and unflinching depictions of ghetto life in all its brutality.

He created a secret compartment in the paneling of the wall of his barrack where he hid many of his works. The works remained hidden during Haas’s interrogation and imprisonment in the Small Ghetto of Terezin, where Haas was sentenced to hard physical labor. After three and a half months, Haas and Fritta were again interrogated and accused of distributing Communist propaganda.

At the end of October they were sent to Auschwitz for their supposed crimes. Fritta was ill with dysentery and died a week later. Haas was soon transferred to another camp called Sachsenhausen where he was put to work in a counterfeiting unit due to his artistic talents. He was transferred twice more before being liberated by the Allies on May 5th, 1945. His wife survived the war but was in very poor health, and would remain sickly for the rest of her life. They adopted Fritta’s son Tomáš and moved to Prague, where they lived until Erna’s death in 1955. Haas then moved to East Berlin where he remarried, and worked as a caricaturist and cartoonist. He also exhibited his art around the world, up until his death in 1983.

Not long after the war, Haas bravely returned to Terezin in the hopes of recovering the paintings he had hidden in a wall panel of his barrack. He found all the paintings he had hidden there, as well as some of Fritta’s works, works of art that showed the world the truth of Terezin.

Further Reading
The Artists of Terezin by Gerald Green

http://art.holocaust-education.net/explore.asp?langid=1&submenu=200&id=14

http://www.theholocaustexplained.org/ks4/the-nazi-impact-on-europe/theresienstadt-a-case-study/leo-haas-living-culture-in-the-ghetto/#.WPPA3NLyvIU

http://www.yadvashem.org/yv/en/exhibitions/last_portrait/haas.asp

A Birthday in Terezin: The Story of Berta Weinshenk

Uncategorized

I was recently in contact with the great-grandson of an elderly couple who were sent to Terezin in 1942. I learned that this couple, Jakob and Berta Weinshenk, were from Nuremberg, Germany and they were sent to Terezin on September 10, 1942.  Jakob died about six months after arriving at Terezin, but incredibly Berta managed to survive the war. She celebrated her 75th birthday in the camp and her friends wrote her a special birthday poem on a piece of cardboard, which survived. The poem celebrates Berta’s bravery and expresses the wish that Berta would live a long life surrounded by her children and grandchildren. The full text of the poem can be found here:

http://www.israel-travel.co.il/uncategorized/a-birthday-in-terezin/

The story of Berta’s deliverance from Terezin is an incredible one. In 1945, the Nazis announced that a transport was being arranged to Switzerland and asked for volunteers. Berta did not believe them, but feeling she had nothing left to live for she volunteered. Unlike all the other trains leaving Terezin, this one actually did arrive in Switzerland in February 1945. Berta was later reunited with her daughter Chana, whose family had immigrated to the United States before the war. Her older daughter, Pauline, also survived the war in France, but her son Martin was murdered in Auschwitz. Berta lived with her family in the United States until her death at age 95.

There is another story about Berta that is recounted in an exhibition at Yad Vashem. There is a matzah cover, white and fringed with a salmon colored border, bearing the stamp of a Jewish home for the elderly in Vienna. It is unknown how or when Berta acquired this matzah cover, but she kept it safe during her imprisonment in Terezin and after she died it was donated to Yad Vashem by her surviving relatives. Below is the full story as recounted on the Vad Vashem website:

http://www.yadvashem.org/yv/en/exhibitions/passover/matzah-cover-weinschenk.asp

Zuzana Ruzickova: the Gifts of Music and Life

Terezin Musicians, , ,

A young girl takes a scrap of paper and carefully draws a series of musical notes. The notes are a small part of Bach’s English Suite Number 5 in E Minor, one of her favorite musical compositions. She doesn’t know where she is going or if there will be music there, and she wants to carry a piece of her beloved music with her. She tucks away this small scrap of paper. Knowing she has it gives her a certain strength as she boards the cattle car and is sent away to the unknown.

The girl’s name was Zuzana Ruzickova, and she was born in Czechoslovakia on January 14, 1927. She came from a wealthy and loving Jewish family, and from an early age, Zuzana was in love with music. When she was nine years old, her parents bought her a piano and paid for lessons. Zuzana progressed rapidly, and developed a deep appreciation for the works of Bach. As Bach’s works were primarily written for the harpsichord, Zuzana began to study that instrument as well. Her teacher, Marie Provaniokova, recognizing Zuzana’s talent and passion, secured her acceptance at a prestigious music academy in France to continue her harpsichord studies. Sadly, Zuzana was unable to attend due to the Nazi invasion of Czecholovakia and the Nuremberg laws.

In January 1942, Zuzana and her parents were transported to Terezin, where Zuzana was sent to work in the ghetto’s vegetable gardens. After work, Zuzana would attend the concerts and musical productions at the camp. She also managed to continue her musical education by taking lessons with the pianist Gideon Klein and joining a children’s choir.

Zuzana suffered a terrible loss when her father died in the spring of 1943. She became even closer with her mother and when her mother was assigned to a transport in December 1943, Zuzana chose to go with her. They were taken to Auschwitz, and both survived the initial selection. Years later, Zuzana could still remember the smoke from the gas chambers, and how terrified she was. On June 6, 1944, Zuzana and her mother were chosen to be executed but, possibly due to the D-Day Invasion, they were instead sent to a factory in Germany. Eventually, Zuzana and her mother were sent to Bergen-Belsen, were they were ultimately liberated. Seriously ill and suffering from starvation, they were transferred to a hospital and were able to return to their hometown in July 1945.

Zuzana was reunited with her old piano teacher and was determined to continue with her studies. At this point she had missed four years of formal instruction and her hands were battered from years of hard labor. To make up for all the time she had lost, Zuzana practiced up to twelve hours a day and managed to gain acceptance to the Academy of Performing Arts in Prague in 1947. She specialized in the harpsichord and the music of Bach. Zuzana later became an instructor at the Academy, and married a fellow musician, Viktor Kalabis. But the couple were to face many challenges as musicians, for in 1948, Czechoslovakia became Communist. She and her husband remained in the country during the 40 years of Communist rule, and against the odds, Zuzana managed to establish a successful career as a harpsichordist. The government gave her special permission to perform worldwide, and Zuzana became the first person to record the complete works of Bach on the harpsichord.

In 2006, when her husband died, Zuzana decided to stop performing publically. She continued to play the harpsichord, but after undergoing chemotherapy for cancer treatment, the resulting nerve damage to her hands prevented her from playing. Sadly, Zuzana is no longer able to play her beloved instrument. Yet Zuzana’s impact is enduring, and her story is told in a documentary called Zuzana: Music is Life, which is scheduled to be released this year. And in honor of her 90th birthday, Zuzana’s complete works of Bach have been reissued. Zuzana not only survived the Nazi camps, she thrived as a musician in spite of tremendous obstacles. And she shared with the world an incredible gift: the music of Bach that had given her strength years earlier.

http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dnSf8suUwAk

BBC Feature on Zuzana:
http://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-38340648

More information on the documentary Zuzana: Music is Life
http://www.zuzanathemovie.com/#cover

 

Karel Ančerl and the Golden Age of Czech Music

Terezin Musicians

Karel Ančerl was a renowned conductor who contributed to the cultural life of Terezin and ultimately, the entire Czech Republic. He was born in 1908 in a south Bohemian town called Tučapy to wealthy Jewish parents, as his father owned a successful liquor business. His family wasn’t known to be musical, but Karel began to study violin at a young age and later piano, and showed promise as a musician. As a young adult, Karel studied composition and conducting at Prague Conservatory. While still a student there, Karel participated in performances with the Czech Philharmonic orchestra where he had the opportunity to work with and observe various influential conductors of the time. In 1930, on his graduation, Karel conducted a performance of Beethoven’s 6th symphony, which was widely acclaimed by critics.

In the year following his graduation, Karel was hired as an assistant conductor for the Munich premiere of Alois Haba’s opera Mother, and he conducted many concerts all over Europe. Ultimately he was hired to conduct performances that were broadcast by Radio Prague and also conducted several concerts by the Czech Philharmonic. All his successes came to a halt when the Nazis occupied Czechoslovakia, and he was dismissed from his position. In 1942, Karel and his wife Valy were transported to Terezin, and their son Jan was born in the camp, not long after their arrival. At Terezin, Karel conducted the Terezin String Orchestra and organized many concerts at the camp. He also appeared in a propaganda film that was used to deceive the Red Cross delegates during their June 1944 visit to the camp. In the film, Karel was shown conducting a performance by the composer Pavel Haas, who was a close friend of his.

In October 1944, Karel, his wife and son, Pavel Haas, and thousands of others were transported to Auschwitz. Karel survived the camp, but his wife, son and friend Pavel were sent to the gas chambers on arrival. Karel later recounted the moment that he and Pavel were examined by the infamous Dr. Mengele. Initially, Mengele directed Karel to join the line of prisoners to be executed, but Pavel began coughing and Mengele sent Pavel to the gas chambers instead of Karel. It is difficult to imagine how this moment must have haunted Karel for the rest of his life. After the war, he met Pavel’s brother Hugo and told him the story.

Karel returned to Radio Prague after the war, and remained there until 1950, when he was appointed artistic director of the Czech Philharmonic orchestra. His first months there were challenging, as the members of the orchestra adjusted to the long work hours and high standards Karel required. The difficult work quickly paid off, as the orchestra was invited to perform in many countries and achieved great success worldwide. Karel brought the orchestra on tours throughout Europe, Asia and North America, and was often invited to conduct other national orchestras. It is notable that Karel often promoted Czech music, cultivated a distinct Czech sound and showcased the works of Czech composers, and brought greater awareness of Czech music to the world.

Karel stayed with the Czech Philharmonic for 18 years, when he emigrated to Canada following the Warsaw Pact invasion of Czechoslovakia. He took up a new position as conductor of the Toronto Philharmonic, where he remained until his death in 1973. Karel did return to Prague to conduct his last two performances with the Czech Philharmonic in 1969 at the Prague Spring Festival. His 18 years with the Czech Philharmonic is widely regarded as the orchestra’s golden age, which makes his decision to leave his homeland during the Communist era all the more poignant. Though he lost so much in his life, his family, friends and even his homeland, Karel Ančerl is known for his tremendous dedication to his orchestra, and for bringing the gift of Czech music to the world.

 

Further Reading

http://www.karel-ancerl.com/

http://forward.com/culture/13657/a-forgotten-conductor-s-triumphant-return-02091/

 

Pavel Haas: A Composer Behind Ghetto Walls

Terezin Musicians

Pavel Haas was one of the better known composers and musicians who was sent to Terezin, and is often mentioned alongside the celebrated composers Hans Krasa, Viktor Ullman, and Gideon Klein. He was born in 1899 in the Czech city of Brno, where he began to study the piano at a young age and attended the Brno Conservatory from 1919 to 1921. He then spent two years studying under an esteemed Czech composer named Leos Janacek, and was one of Janacek’s most successful students.

Over two decades, Haas composed over 50 works, including symphonies, chamber music, film scores and operas. Haas was known for being very critical of his work, and many of these works were never performed. His greatest success was his opera, The Charlatan, which debuted in 1938 in Brno and received widespread acclaim, earning an award from the Smetana Foundation,

In 1941, when the Nazis began to deport the Jews of Prague, Haas divorced his Christian wife, Sonia, in the hopes that she and their daughter would be spared. Soon after, he was deported to Terezin, where he fell into a deep depression. Fellow composer Gideon Klein befriended Haas and eventually managed to convince him to begin composing again. Haas produced at least eight compositions in the camp, including Study for String Orchestra and Four Songs on Chinese Poetry. Haas’s String Orchestra was performed in Terezin, conducted by his friend Karel Ancerl. Footage of one of these performances appears in a Nazi propaganda film made at Terezin, and Haas can be seen taking a bow at the end of the performance.

After the Red Cross visit in the summer of 1944, Pavel Haas and about 18,000 other prisoners were deported to Auschwitz. His friend, conductor Karel Ancerl was with him when they were lined up for selection upon their arrival. Ancerl later recounted that Dr. Josef Mengele was about to send him to the gas chambers when Haas began coughing, and Mengele chose to send Haas to the gas chambers in his friend’s place. Ancerl managed to survive the Holocaust, as did Pavel’s brother Hugo, who later became a successful character actor in American films. The two men reunited after the war and Ancerl told Hugo the story. I can only imagine how incredibly emotional and painful that meeting must have been.

In addition to his brother Hugo, Pavel’s wife and daughter survived the war. As Haas had hoped, his wife and daughter were not threatened or arrested by the Nazis. Of the 8 known compositions Pavel wrote during his time in Terezin, only 3 survived. Karl Ancerl discovered parts of the score for Study for Strings and managed to reconstruct the rest, and this score remains Haas’s best known work today. It has been featured in both live performances and on a number of recordings. Still, Pavel Haas remains somewhat in the shadow of other Terezin composers like Hans Krasa, Viktor Ullman and Gideon Klein, and his works are not as well known. I was grateful to find some videos of his music being performed,  two of which can be viewed below.

http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lxNSZ47DYA8

Alice Herz-Sommer: A Musician Until The End

Terezin Artists, Terezin Musicians, , , , , ,

Professional pianist and Terezin survivor Alice Herz-Sommer played her beloved aliceinstrument daily until her death at age 110 in 2014. She fell in love with the piano at an early age and her love for music quite literally kept her and her young son alive during the years they spent in Terezin. Alice, originally known as Aliza Herz, was born in Prague in 1903. She was a member of a well off German-speaking Jewish family, and her parents sponsored a cultural salon that attracted some of the most gifted minds of the time. Young Aliza met Franz Kafka, Sigmund Freud and Gustav Mahler, among other writers, intellectuals and composers. In time, she too would become a prominent pianist in her own right.

Alice first learned the piano as a child from her older sister, Irma, and even at a young age, was a dedicated pianist, practicing hours each day. A family friend and composer named Artur Schnabel expressed his belief that Alice was suited to be a professional musician. Alice later decided that this was the career she wanted and entered the Prague Conservatory of Music, where she was the youngest student in the school.
In 1931, at the age of 26, Alice married a businessman and musician named Leopold Sommer, and they had one son, Raphael. Alice established herself as a concert pianist and became known throughout Europe. She was forced to stop performing after the Nazis took control of Prague and forbade Jewish musicians to perform in concerts and music competitions.

Most of Alice’s family managed to flee to Palestine, but her elderly mother was unable to travel and Alice, her husband and Raphael stayed behind to help care for her. Alice’s mother was sent to Terezin in 1942, and Alice accompanied her to the train station. On this journey, Alice realized just how dire the situation had become, and she found solace in music, teaching herself the incredibly challenging 24 Etudes of Frederic Chopin, often up to eight hours a day.

In July 1943, Alice, along with her husband and son were sent to Terezin, where she performed in over 100 concerts. She continued to find strength in performing her music, which helped to free her from the daily horrors of life at Terezin. Alice also did all she could to provide stability for Raphael, and together they survived the war in Terezin. Alice’s husband and mother were transported to Nazi extermination camps and murdered, and Alice never learned the details of their final moments.

After the war, Alice and Raphael moved to Israel, where they reunited with their relatives. Alice continued to perform and taught at the Jerusalem Conservatory for 35 years, until she moved to London in 1986. Raphael also became a highly accomplished concert cellist, but he died tragically and suddenly in 2001. Alice continued to live on her own in a London apartment, where she continued to play the piano for hours each day, up until her death at age 110.

Alice’s life inspired several books and documentary films, most recently, The Lady in Number 6, which won an Oscar in 2013 for Best Short Documentary. The documentary, filmed about a year before Alice died, is a remarkable tribute. We hear Alice’s story in her own words and learn of her natural optimistic and joyful personality, which the Nazis failed to take from her. It was clear that her passion and love for music and her family were the driving forces in her life, and her ability to see the beauty in music and life is deeply moving, especially after all she endured at the hands of the Nazis. I encourage you to see this film, so that you may see for yourself this gifted, passionate, resilient woman named Alice Herz-Sommer.

http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LrXHcQyixTE

Children’s Stories and Poems: Terezin 1942-1944

Children in Terezin, Terezin Artists, Terezin poets, Terezin Writers

Recently, I had the good fortune to read and examine one of the original 2000 English copies of the book Children’s Drawings and Poems: Terezin 1942-1944. Two friends who work in Special Collections at the University of Colorado generously gave me a tour of the archives after hours and located a sole book on Terezin in the collection. I returned to Special Collections a few weeks later to review the book in more depth. This hardcover book with its slightly worn dust jacket featured a child’s collage of a solitary humanoid figure. It was published in 1959, an English translation with an initial print run of only 2000 copies. A sticker on the inside cover read “Gift of Professor U.K. Goldsmith, 1973.” I wrote down the name, curious about the person who donated this book.

I own a later edition of this book, which features drawings and poetry from children who were in Terezin. Most of these drawings and poems are owned by the State Jewish Museum in Prague, and they were selected from more than 4,000 drawings and poems in the museum’s archives. Many of these works of art were created from any materials the children could find, such as scraps of paper, office forms, wrapping paper…This original edition featured reproductions that were far clearer and more vivid than the later editions. The paper felt heavy and opaque with beautifully vivid illustrations. Yet for me, two of the most poignant drawings were simple pencil lines depicting the outline of a child’s hand and sketches of butterflies. The hand was drawn by a boy named Frantisek Brozan and the butterflies by Eva Bulova. Almost nothing is known about them, but they were among the thousands of children who were sent to Auschwitz and murdered. There was a section in the back that featured biographical information on the authors and artists, but for most all that is known is what is gleaned from camp records: date and place of birth, date of transport to Terezin, whether they survived or died. In later editions, this section is still included, but all these years later no more biographical information has been discovered. Most of these young creators have been all but lost to history. That was the thought that stayed with me as I closed the book, leaving the two ribbon bookmarks at the page containing the poem “The Butterfly”, the one that captivated me from the start.

A memorial in Prague, illuminated by candles. May we never forget.
A memorial in Prague, illuminated by candles. May we never forget.

Later, after the visit, I researched the professor who donated this book. His name was Ulrich K. Goldsmith, and he was born to a Jewish family in Freiburg, Germany in 1910. He fled the country in 1932, passing through England and Canada before settling in the United States, where he received a PhD in literature from the University of California at Berkley. In 1957 he arrived at the University of Colorado, Boulder where he was the chair of the Department of Germanic languages and literature and co-founded the Comparative Literature department. He was known as a remarkable humanist and scholar of Stefan George and Rainer Maria Rilke. After his death in 2000, the university established a memorial prize in his name. Little else seems to be recorded about him, though surely his former students and colleagues have memories of him. Unfortunately, I don’t know how he acquired one of the original English translations of Children’s Drawings and Poems, or how he came to know the story of Terezin. If Professor Goldsmith were alive today and I had the chance to speak with him I would have asked him about these stories. Most likely, I will never know, but I will always be grateful to him for leaving this remarkable book with the library so that future generations may know the story of Terezin.

Gideon Klein and the Terezin String Trio

Terezin Musicians, ,
The Vltava River in Prague. The Conservatory where Gideon Klein studied is only a short walk from the river.
The Vltava River in Prague. The Conservatory where Gideon Klein studied is only a short walk from the river.

Born in 1919 in Prerov, Moravia, Czechoslovakia to assimilated Czech-Jewish family, Gideon Klein showed talent for music at a young age. His supportive parents decided he should move to Prague to get the best musical education available. Klein moved to Prague and lived with his older sister, Eliska, who was a student there. By 1939, Klein was studying musicology at Charles University and composition at the Prague Conservatory with renowned composer Alois Haba. In 1940, however, the Nazis closed many Czech universities and restricted Jews from higher education. Over the next year, more prohibitions were passed against Jews, who had to wear a yellow star badge and were forbidden to leave the country. Jewish composers were forbidden to give public performances, but Klein and some other composers attempted to circumvent these laws. For a time, Gideon did find a way to give public performances, by posing as a Christian, with the use of a pseudonym. When it became too dangerous to continue, he instead performed in secret venues and taught music classes to children at the Prague Orphanage. Gideon was offered a scholarship to study at the Royal Academy of Music in London during this time, but had to turn it down because the Nazis would not let him leave Czechoslovakia.

Gideon was in one of the first transports to Terezin, in December 1941. The people on these transports, many of them young men, were tasked with preparing the camp for the arrival of thousands of more prisoners. When the later transports arrived, the children were separated from their parents and made to live in homes, and Klein took it upon himself to teach music to these children. At this time, such activities were forbidden in Terezin, but Klein was undeterred and continued to secretly teach the children about music, poetry, and literature. Over the next few years, he became one of the prime organizers of cultural activity in the camp. He also composed a variety of musical works, including his String Trio, String Quartet and a piano sonata. In addition, Gideon performed at numerous recitals and chamber music events at Terezin.

Gideon was transported to Auschwitz on October 16, 1944 and survived the initial selection. He was later sent to a forced labor camp, and as the Allies began to advance, Gideon and about 1,000 other prisoners were taken by the SS on a death march toward the west. It is certain that he did not survive the war, but the exact circumstances of his death remain unknown.

Gideon’s Terezin works still survive, preserved by his girlfriend at Terezin, Irma Semtska, who survived the war. Irma reconnected with Gideon’s sister Eliska in Prague following liberation and gave her the compositions. Academics only had access to these works for many years, leading to the misconception that Klein only developed as a composer during the war. Then, in 1990, a family friend discovered a suitcase which contained numerous compositions that Klein wrote before the war. The works included chamber music for strings and woodwind, piano sonatas, and vocal pieces. Klein’s works are still performed to this day, and the act of performing them sustains the legacy of this gifted musician and composer whose life was tragically cut short.

Elie Wiesel, Of Blessed Memory

Uncategorized

I was deeply saddened to learn of the death of Elie Wiesel, who did so much to bring the story of the Holocaust to the world and who urged actively fighting injustice and inhumanity, reminding us that inaction and indifference only help the oppressors, never their victims.

Unlike the vast majority of individuals persecuted and murdered by the Nazis, Elie Wiesel’s story is very well known. What is not so widely known is that his famous book, Night, is a much condensed version of the original manuscript. The original work was written in Yiddish, and was over 800 pages long. Wiesel also chronicled his intense rage toward the Nazis in the original manuscript, and expressed a desire for vengeance, which were edited out of the condensed version that later became so famous. Yet, Wiesel eventually was able to overcome his rage and devote his life to defending victims of injustice and fighting oppression against Jews as well as other persecuted groups.

Much of his anger was directed towards God, as he was unable to reconcile how a just God would allow people to inflict such suffering on each other. Still, he did not turn away entirely, and in his later years he could sometimes be seen attending synagogue and praying. I remain in awe of his ability to overcome such terrible suffering and loss, his courage in fighting for justice and the incredible resilience that allowed him to live a meaningful life despite all he had been through. And now he is gone, and the void that he has left can never be filled.

Wiesel’s death also reminds me that most of the living Holocaust survivors will no longer be with us in another generation, and it will be up to the living to ensure that their memories endure. My fear is that as the number of survivors dwindle, the Holocaust will be relegated to history books and no longer seen as relevant. This is another reason why I am so committed to sharing the stories of Terezin, even though I was born 40 years after the end of World War II and have no relatives who were impacted by the Holocaust. It will never be enough, I know, and my writing will likely only be read by a few people. But this is what I believe I am here for, and I will not give up on my mission. I will continue my work to honor the memory of Elie Wiesel, of blessed memory, and all those who suffered and died in the Holocaust.

Side view of the New Old Synagogue in Prague. Built in 1270, it is the oldest active synagogue in Europe, and is to me a powerful reminder that Judaism in Europe lives on.
Side view of the New Old Synagogue in Prague. Built in 1270, it is the oldest active synagogue in Europe, and is to me a powerful reminder that Judaism in Europe lives on.

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Terezin: Why It Matters Today

Terezin Artists, Uncategorized

082Today I opted to write a slightly different post, focusing on the significance of Terezin for today. I often fear that the stories of the artists of Terezin will be regarded as a part of history, and it seems that the lessons of history are so easily overlooked in the present. The stories of the past are sometimes regarded as no longer relevant, as they seem so far removed from today, from our daily lives.

A friend of mine who teaches language arts to middle school students told me that Anne Frank’s diary had very little impact on her students. Many of her students live in impoverished inner-city neighborhoods and face incredible hardships. Still, they were simply unable to relate to the intense struggles and fears of a young Jewish girl living in hiding during the Nazi regime. It was the same when I read Anne’s diary as a middle school student and most of my classmates showed little interest in her story. Even then, I was saddened by this lack of interest, and I wanted to do something about it.

Sharing the stories of the artists of Terezin is a start, and those who take the time to read them have been deeply moved by these individuals. I have also incorporated some of these stories into my young adult novel, which I am trying to publish. But there is so much work to be done, as these stories remain largely unknown. This is such a shame, because these artists can inspire us and teach us about empathy.

Many psychology studies on empathy, such as Philip Zimbardo’s Stanford Prison Experiment, show that it is very easy for people to quickly lose all compassion for those they perceive as different from themselves. We see this and hear the news reports every day: people who are different in some way from the dominant social group are bullied, persecuted and killed. And the perpetrators are not usually violent people or criminals, but ordinary people who feel threatened by the “outsiders” and who have no empathy for them. But other studies have shown that it is possible to cultivate empathy towards others. Studies that required people to get inside another’s head and understand their perspective, such as by reading a personal account or identifying with a complex literary character, later displayed increased empathy toward the other. In the case of Terezin, we know so little about most of the artists, which makes it harder to truly understand who they were and to feel a connection with them. But I believe we can glean something of their individuality through the works they created, and empathize with them if we are truly listening carefully.

Above all, we need to remember the lesson of Terezin, that even in the face of human brutality, even during the most devastating genocide the world has ever known, the human spirit endured, and creativity flourished. If the artists of Terezin could keep on creating during such a time, it seems to me that there is hope for humanity. It is up to us, those who came after, to listen to their words, to their music, to view their art and try to understand and empathize with the individuals who created these beautiful works. The artists of Terezin can teach us a great deal about empathy and compassion if only we take the time to listen.