The Sorceress: Victorian Light Opera, Tearjerker, and Fairytale, All in Yiddish, All Wonderful

Dec 12, 2019 by

By Two Sues on the Aisle: Sue Weston and Susan L. Rosenbluth

In equal parts Gilbert and Sullivan-ish light opera, melodramatic tearjerker, and dark fairytale, Avrom Goldfaden’s 1878 operetta, Di Kishefmakhern (The Sorceress), now being presented by the National Yiddish Theatre Folksbiene at the Museum of Jewish Heritage in lower Manhattan, is on the surface a delightful musical fantasy and tuneful escape from reality. Scratch a little deeper, and the timeless story of true love between boy and girl and father and child is beset by the Jewish tragedies of untimely death, cruel stepmothers, wicked and all-too-frequent governmental apprehensions, and the unspeakable horror of human trafficking.

Set in the city of Botosani, Romania, during the Victorian era, The Sorceress is one of the earliest works of Yiddish theatre and the first to be produced in America. Its production in New York in 1882 by then-14-year-old Boris Thomashefsky established Second Avenue in New York’s Lower East Side as the Yiddish Theater District. Thomashefsky, who went on to become one of the leading lights of Yiddish theater, persuaded a Bowery beer hall owner to finance the production, which was performed by a Yiddish theater troupe imported from London.

The survival of The Sorceress itself and especially its musical score, which was composed by Goldfaden, is something of a miracle. During the Holocaust, members of the so-called “Paper Brigade” of the Yiddish Scientific Institute (YIVO) risked their lives to hide priceless cultural gems, including The Sorceress. Hopeful that when the Nazis eventually lost the war Jewish cultural life would be restored, they secreted away treasure troves of music, rare books, manuscripts, and plays.

The Folksbiene’s fully restored orchestration is based on the pre-Holocaust musical arrangement which was saved from destruction.

Simple Story

The story is simple. Two families—one wealthy and happy, the other poor and jealous—become intertwined when the wealthy mother dies, leaving her daughter, Mirele (played beguilingly by enchanting soprano Jazmin Gorsline), so desolate that not even the attentions of her devoted fiancé, the handsome Markus (sung sweetly by tenor Josh Kohane), or her widowed father (sturdily played by Bruce Rebold) can console her. With the help of the local witch, Bobe Yakhne (played, as written in the original, by a man, Mikhl Yashinsky), the poor and jealous woman, Basye (Rachel Botchan) manages to worm her way into the widower’s heart by feigning affection for his daughter. When the sorceress arranges for the father’s arrest by the local authorities on trumped-up charges, the stepmother’s true intentions for Mirele can be carried out. Bobe Yakhne arranges for her to be kidnapped and sold as a sex-slave to the Ottomans.

Since this is, at heart, a fairytale, suffice it to say, it all ends well with the villains reaping their just rewards and the virtuous celebrating a joyous wedding.

As opposed to the usual fairytales of the time, Goldfaden’s story eschews magic. His witch’s secret powers lie in her ability to develop devious plots which she convinces others to set in motion. She and the stepmother are motivated by greed. Their shared desire to fill their purses outweighs any sense of moral principles.

Played by Mr. Yashinsky as a larger-than-life gypsy without a drop of human kindness, the Bobe Yakhne explains that her magic spells are pure chicanery performed for the benefit of those benighted fools who believe such nonsense. She is not so much a sorceress as she is a wicked con artist.

When the villains meet their end, it is in a fire they themselves had ignited in an effort to get rid of Mirele and Markus. Just as Haman was hanged on the scaffold he had prepared for Mordechai, in Goldfaden’s tale, there is no Deus ex Machina. G-d’s will is done, but His face is hidden. The message is clear: “Those who dig a grave for someone else, fall into it themselves.”

Historical Context

While the story stands on its own, requiring no background in the history of the time, it is helpful to remember that it was written during the Russo-Turkish War of 1877-1878, a conflict between the Ottoman Empire and the Russian-led Christian Eastern Orthodox coalition, which included Romania. As a result of the war, the Russians reclaimed Crimea and its access to the Black Sea, while the Balkans, including Romania, became independent of the Ottomans and part of the Russian sphere of influence.

For the Jews, life in Romania after the war was a step up. The community became more independent and, as a group, wealthier. The Folksbiene’s artistic director, Motl Didner, expresses this new direction in The Sorceress by portraying most of the Jews as secular.  The men do not wear head coverings even at the final wedding.

“These are assimilated bourgeoisie Jews. In Romania, Jews fared better than they did in the Russian Empire. Just as in Vienna, Budapest, Prague, and many German cities, this was a period of relaxing attitudes towards religious Orthodoxy and assimilation,” he says, pointing out that, in his photographs, Goldfaden himself is bare-headed.

The one exception is the character Hotsmakh (Steve Sterner), a kind of everyman who pops up everywhere and represents the traditional Jewish world.

“He not only wears a hat throughout, but also has peyos and a beard,” says Mr. Didner. “The opening scene of The Sorceress takes place at a birthday party, a new concept to the Jewish world in the 1870s. Hotsmakh does not understand what this celebration is all about. It is not part of his traditional culture.”

Subtitles

While the entire production is performed in Yiddish, the subtitles in English and Russian are superb, managing to be neither confusing nor distracting. The simple stage seems effortlessly transformed into a kaleidoscope of color and sound. The voices are lovely, and the full orchestra lends body and depth to the music.

The show lasts about 90 minutes without an intermission. It will be enjoyed by both parents and children but is probably better suited for those who are comfortable reading subtitles. The show is beautiful, humorous, and uplifting. A must-see musical.

The Sorceress will play at the charming theater inside the Museum of Jewish Heritage-A Living Memorial to the Holocaust, Edmond J Safra Plaza, 36 Battery Place, at the southern tip of Manhattan, until December 29. For tickets or information, go to nytf.org or call 866-811-4111.

As Mr. Didner explains, one of the historical truths surrounding The Sorceress is that, after the Russo-Turkish War, “Romania bounced from being a vassal state of the Ottoman Empire to falling under Russian control, setting the map for the pogroms that followed and, eventually, the Holocaust.”

While at the Museum of Jewish Heritage, audiences coming to see The Sorceress might want to avail themselves of the museum’s signature exhibition, “Auschwitz: Not Long Ago, Not Far Away.”

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Two Sues on the Aisle bases its ratings on how many challahs it pays to buy (rather than make) in order to see the play, show, film, or exhibit being reviewed. “The Sorceress” received 5 challahs