New musical of Yiddish ghetto songs reminds us why Israel was founded
Rachel Zatcoff in a scene of the new musical Amid Falling Walls. Photo by Jeremy Daniel
By Rukhl Schaechter November 19, 2023
As a child of a Holocaust survivor, it’s always been hard for me to watch plays or films about the Nazi genocide. The scenes of sadistic cruelty inflicted on Jewish men, women and children become painfully etched in my memory for weeks afterwards.
But my experience last Thursday as I sat in the audience of the new musical Amid Falling Walls (Tsvishn falndike vent in Yiddish), was very different. (Although the show is in Yiddish, all songs and dialogue are accompanied by English supertitles.) There are no Nazis on stage; only Jews on a typical day in the ghetto. Some scenes take place in the Warsaw ghetto but we also visit the ghettos of Vilna and other cities and towns where Jews were imprisoned behind barbed-wire enclosures.
We witness a variety of real-life moments in this enforced Jewish community. A group of neighbors excitedly share unconfirmed rumors about the Germans. An orphan peddles cigarettes and saccharine for a piece of bread. A teenage boy urges his sweetheart to open the door for him, which she refuses to do, fearing how her father might react. Angry young men and women urge fellow Jews to fight the Nazis even if it means certain death. “If my death can bring down five Nazis, it will all have been worth it!” one cries.
Affirming life in the ghetto
And almost all of this is expressed in song. These songs weren’t written by professional composers and lyricists decades after the Holocaust. They were composed and performed, often secretly, by teenagers in the Nazi-controlled ghettos, work and concentration camps.
This affirmation of life was their way of fighting back. If they couldn’t go to battle militarily against the mighty German army, they would do so spiritually and culturally. The Nazis may have tried to dehumanize them, but the Jews pushed back by doing what only human beings can: create art.
This song wasn’t written in lead but in blood
It’s not a sweet song about a bird flying freely;
It’s a song that was sung amid falling walls
By a nation holding grenades in their hands.
(Hirsh Glik, “The Partisan Hymn,” Vilna 1943)
Seeing the Land of Israel as a refuge
Watching Amid Falling Walls filled me with empathy for, and unabashed pride in, these young Jewish songwriters I never met. (Tragically, almost none of them survived the war.) As the show’s creators make clear, one great hope expressed by many of these doomed young people was the possibility of the Jews returning to their ancient homeland. One song expresses the sadly premature joy upon hearing that England was allowing the Jews set up their own government:
America has declared
To all the world
That England must return
The land of Israel to the Jews.
Jews are dancing in the streets
Happiness reigns in every Jewish home
England is installing
A new Jewish king!
Don’t worry, my fellow Jews,
Our troubles are almost over!
With God’s help, we’ll live to see the day
When all Jews will enter the Land of Israel.
(“America Has Declared,” author unknown)
Antisemitism didn’t end with the defeat of the Nazis
Listening to these songs, I naturally couldn’t help but think about the horrific attacks by Hamas on Israel on Oct. 7 and the sudden explosion of virulent Jew-hatred around the United States and Europe. As I learned after the show, many fellow audience members felt the same. Antisemitism didn’t end with the defeat of the Nazis. It simply remained lurking under the surface, ready to rear its head at the first opportunity.
What many people seem to have forgotten is that it was partly because of antisemitism and the unrelenting persecution of the Jews that the modern state of Israel was established in the first place. It was clear that the Jewish people needed an army to protect and defend them.
More importantly, the state of Israel was founded after the Holocaust because of a 2000-year-old quest to return to Zion. The wish to return to our land was in our prayers three times a day. It was celebrated in holidays such as Hanukkah, Sukkot and others.
Although the production of Amid Falling Walls began long before Oct. 7, this notion of Israel as the beacon that kept the Jews going during the worst of times seems to have gained added significance in the show since the attacks.
Urging fellow Jews to wake up to reality
During one heartbreaking scene, we hear the last words of the Jewish Polish politician-in-exile Shmuel (Artur) Zygielbojm before he commits suicide on May 11, 1943, after the final liquidation of the Warsaw ghetto: “I cannot continue to live and be silent while the remnants of Polish Jewry, whose representative I am, are being murdered. By my death, I wish to give expression to my most profound protest against the inaction in which the world watches and permits the destruction of the Jewish people.”
Immediately afterwards, a young man begins to intone the word: “Attenzion! Attenzion!” slowly stretching out each syllable. As he does so, we realize he’s actually pronouncing the word Zion, turning his simple command into a subliminal call to his fellow Jews to wake up to reality.
“There’s no other recourse for us Jews,” he seems to be saying. “We need a home of our own.”
Amid Falling Walls, which was produced by the National Yiddish Theater Folksbiene, is a 90-minute tour de force performed by eight highly talented singers and actors. An added treat: Their Yiddish pronunciation was superb. The exceptional production was curated by Zalmen Mlotek and Avram Mlotek who also wrote the libretto, and directed by Motl Didner. The musical arrangements were by Zalmen Mlotek.
The musical Amid Falling Walls is playing at the Museum of Jewish Heritage in Manhattan until Dec. 10. Further information and tickets are available on the National Yiddish Theater Folksbiene’s website.
