YANKEV WAISLITZ – THE VETERAN OF THE YIDDISH STAGE (TO HIS 50 YEARS OF THEATRICAL ACTIVENESS) BY YITZKHAK KAHAN In his book about Victor Hugo, the well‐known French writer, Andre Marua, gives this definition about youth: “What do you call it when all senses are on the fire, and the heart is clean and sings in the breast with such power, impatient, desperate and yet – overfilled with hope: when the person feels stronger, like the world, but powerless to prove his power, when the life that began just a moment ago is already packed with external events and happenings?...This has a name, it is called: youth”. Yankev Waislitz was this kind of youth, when fifty years ago he set his first steps on the Yiddish stage. He belonged to an idealistic youth, restless, searching, that was spiritually young and dynamic. He was of a youth that was driven by internal striving, not to practical practicalities and careerism, but to a higher purpose of truth and a search for justice. This youth made a historical rendezvous with ideas of a violent epoch and picked itself up to the most wonderful heights of devotion for light humanitarian ideals that promised and enchanted so much. The years 1907‐1914 (after the failure of the Russian Revolution) marked the big rise of national‐secular Jewish culture, which searched for a new expression of Yiddishkayt and of Yiddish creativity, a new form in which the past, present and future search harmoniously to connect themselves. *) Written in 1963. The so called Peretz era began to bloom. It broadened the Yiddish horizons, opening new perspectives for Jewish life and creating through modern cultural creativity: like literature, art, science and theatre. The name I.L. Peretz was turned to in a magic word for the Yiddish folky intelligence, workmanship and a part of the studying youth, who looked up to him, like to a mentor and rabbi. Every day one could see in the Saxon Garden in Warsaw, boys and girls, who knew the time of Peretz’s walk on the so‐called ‘Literary Avenue’. Not brave, they used to follow him with love and honour, not having the courage to stop and try to develop a conversation. Amongst the last was a thin young man from the provinces – Yankev Waislitz. He was drawn to Peretz, whose performances he heard at readings and discussions. Peretz’s artistic flight, his flaming goodness, the folky warmth caught and enchanted the young man with the dreamy eyes. Peretz’s romantic‐realistic cultural philosophy, his winged vision of Yiddishkayt full of universally humanism, the mysterious flapping of his artistic personality, which was covered not just with the external cloke, but also with the internal, spiritual aristocratic flavour, for young Waislitz (like for many others) called out deep reverence and respect, wonder, like suddenly on the street there would appear the High Priest of the Holy Temple. 1912. In the Warsaw philharmonic hall, a big folk‐assembly occurs to deal with the tragic state of the Yiddish theatre. At the speaker’s platform – the spiritual elite of the Yiddish culture, I.L. Peretz spoke. No, he did not speak, he spilled boiling, angry words onto the fully packed hall against the low class popular theatre, the ‘Khinke Pinke’ plays, which like wild grass, grew on the Jewish street. He called to destroy, like idol worship, this literary trash and build up on its ruins the best Yiddish theatre with an artistic, literary repertoire: “Pay attention cadres, come revolt and build!” Peretz thundered. In the celebratory mood, whilst in the hall just Peretz’s winged words flapped, the young Waislitz made like an oath to tie his fate to the Yiddish stage. With all fevers of his soul he would perform theatre – and truly of a better repertoire. It became his dream and meaning of life, but then without opportunities after for it to come to pass... The better Yiddish theatre was then limited to the back roads and the attempt, that Peretz Hirshbeyn made (1908‐1910) was not successful. The only thing that did achieve its aims at that time was a dramatic circle at the Hazomir, under the leadership of I.L. Peretz and Dovid Herman. Waislitz turned to this very studio. The Hazomir circle was an ersatz theatre, a school to educate the coming potentials, professional actors and also a laboratory for scene experiments; of searching for a Yiddish form for the Yiddish stage. Not to create a theatre in Yiddish, but a Yiddish theatre, that should bring out the Jewish drama and the Jewish person; a theatre that should embody the Yiddish thought, dream and truth, the holy shabbes, like the weekdays. In the Hazomir studio, Dr Mukdoni taught theory of theatre: Peretz – Yiddish literature with interpretations of the Yiddish drama. Each of his lectures changed and enchanted, like a séance of hypnosis. Whilst speaking he used to more suggest like speech through a clue, a jest, a glance, there used to come out poetic opinions and awareness, the initiative that cannot be described in words. He wanted to make it really special, putting his own slant on the best of Hassidic thought. For the young Waislitz, this opened a new world. Peretz’s poetic intellectualism, brought out a winged form, met up with the burning enthusiastic eyes of the audience, which felt responsibility for the coming role that it was to play in the Yiddish life in general and on the stage. Not just for Peretz, but for Dovid Herman, the students connected like Hassidim to their rabbi. Herman, a deep romantic and artistic personality, came to the theatre from the Hassidic milieu. From this environment he took his Hassidic enthusiasm to the modern Yiddish literature and theatre; his unrest and longing, his Hassidic mystique, the enthusiasm and the flavour searched for a scenic saving renewal. His work in the dramatic Hazomir circle was learning for its own sake, a preparation for tomorrow’s Yiddish theatre, and of his students, there truly came out the later big artists of the Moscow chamber‐theatre, of the Vilna Troup and other Yiddish stages. In the studio Dovid Herman did not teach any ready recipes for performing theatre, but a way of life, for which one must continuously create and search with a lot of patience and belief. It did not feel the impatience of a youth who wants to quickly perform on the stage, but carries our and breaths in own blood and flesh until it becomes second nature, an organic part of own being. Big artists meet on a joint base. That which Alexander Granakh tells about sincerity is a reflection of the Dovid Herman’s direction. He had every smallest idea, feeling, tone and expression tapped and studied the smallest movement and jest considered, clarified and placed in. Everything was planned – and like the work of a fine watch – he thought over every screw, wheel and spring. When he put it together, it first became a complete thing from one cast. Herman searched amongst his students not just sparks of talent (of which he could ignite a flame), but also intellectual understanding. He broadened their knowledge of art and literature and also other aspects, so through years and years of learning, they could better and realise their natural talents. He taught and planted responsibility in performing, so just like the prayer leader feels when praying the presence of the Torah ark, so must the artist with a holy shaking relate oneself to his theatre work. And he who is completely incapable of this will never become an artist. Dovid Herman, with a seldom sense of purpose, brought out artistic sparks and theatre capabilities. He demanded a lot of the students. He taught them to love art in themselves, but not themselves in art. He used to prepare intimate evenings, recitations and musical plays, which used to change the week‐a‐day into Yontefs. From such evenings, the students used to go away excited and improved. It strengthened the enthusiasm to learning and working over oneself. The graduation was big: a graduation of Artism, of contest and achievement, of educating the dreamed‐of cadres of artists for the potential theatre. At the hall, the cream of the Jewish intelligence: Yiddish writers and artists with Peretz in the lead. Happy speeches are made from the presidium, and one of the students also speaks. The fate fell on Waislitz...his first speech for such an audience! The un‐boldness calls out a shudder in every limb, the first words a little stammering, the knees bend from inner frustration, but bit by bit the words come out more surely, clearer. He speaks about “what the school gave us”, a goal in life, a higher cause. He speaks with hot breath, the words flame. His eyes meet with Dovid Herman’s, who intuitively noticed in the young student a spiritual inheritor, a follower of his ideas, direction and creations. Already then, the un‐ripped thread of piousness and opposite understand of the student with the rabbi was pinched, that Waislitz carried over oceans and continents... The yontef‐like evenings in Warsaw Hazomir were unforgettable, when Nomberg, Asch and others, after that young writers, used to make a circle around Peretz and sang: “Our rabbi” with the true Hassidic burning and Peretz himself in a good mood would hum his favourite song “Ask the world an old question”... The older people were then young in spirit and the young people saw before themselves a new way, a spring, a re‐growth, renaissance, the dream of freedom, of a new raised Yiddish life.