LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!

I need to do some research on this, but maybe just asking around is enough: is the desire to perform in front of an audience innate? Do all children do this? Or is it just my bloodline?

My experience from my own children and grandchildren, as well as from observing the children and grandchildren of others, is that it is indeed universal. Maybe not so much in front of a real horde of perfect strangers, but certainly I have been subjected to many an impromptu pre-dinner entertainment.  I’m not saying that they are engrossing or that anyone but an indulgent parent or Booba would applaud with enthusiasm, that’s not the point; it’s that the kids always want to stage plays, talent quests, puppet shows etc etc. And there is an emcee/ringmaster/announcer. And they expect applause. How do they know to do this? These kids haven’t seen so many shows or even TV, yet they know the process. Of course, when called upon to perform, whether at a kinder concert, to entertain one’s friends or even to say Ma Nishtana at the rapidly approaching Seder, they freeze and burst into tears. But given time to just muck around amongst themselves, they will be, sooner or later, proudly calling any nearby adult to the sitting room to watch them perform something.

I am the child and grandchild of performers. My maternal grandparents were active in Yiddish theatre both in Perth and in Melbourne, in the Kadimah, pre and post war. My mother was a dramatic soprano whose career was nipped in the bud by WW2; story has it, she had won a scholarship in 1938 to study at La Scala, Milan, but Italy was then fascist, so bad luck. Well, that’s all I know.

But my mother, feisty woman that she was, joined the fight in WW2 and was in the Armed Forces Entertainment Corps. This was a woman who defied her father by cutting her waist-length hair when she was 19, for which act of defiance she was punished. This was at a time when words such as ‘pregnant’ were not spoken in front of innocent young ladies. And she ran away and enlisted. If I didn’t have the programmes and playbills to prove it, I wouldn’t have believed it either.  Apparently Miss Freda Berinson, ‘a chic soubrette’ [?] did a very good Carmen Miranda. She even sang Ave Maria, bringing the Catholic soldier boys to tears, according to her report. She didn’t talk much about it, but enough to give me the impression that WW2, for those who were not actually being murdered, was quite an exciting, if not fun, time.

Her parents before her were also of a theatrical bent. Here I have more than crumbling playbills to prove this:

Yiddish theatre in Perth may be said to have begun in 1913 following the arrival of Mr. M. Berenson from Palestine. From that year until 1928, he worked together with a number of amateur actors to produce a series of plays. In all, they numbered over 40 and among them were `The Jewish Priest', 'Kuni Leml', `Don Judah Abrabanel', `The Power of Love', 'Mirele Efros', `King Lear', 'The Millionaire as Pauper' and 'Where are my Children?'

(Serge Liberman, Jewish Australia)

Yep, that ‘Mr M Berenson’ is actually my grandfather, Moshe Berinson, who came to Australia along with 3 brothers from Ottoman Palestine. (My grandfather was a Palestinian, a real one!) They were fleeing the Turks who were forcibly conscripting boys into the army for 20 years’ service. They left Tzefat and went as far as it was possible to go, ending up in Fremantle, Western Australia.  He and his brothers started a bakery. And then he- and I’m pretty sure NOT the bros- started up Yiddish theatre, as you do. His wife, my grandmother Sadie, whom he married in 1918, was also part of the cast of characters. And later, my mum played the piano for musical accompaniment. After the war, in Melbourne, my dad also played smaller parts in the Kadimah Yiddish theatre group. My dad also had a sweet tenor and was a Chazzan at the Brunswick Talmud Torah. They were all amateurs of course; it’s not as if you could actually make a living from any of this!

(I must note that my husband’s side of the family isn’t too shabby either, what with cousin Cantor Dovid Werdyger and his son, erstwhile Jewish popular singer Mordechai ben David. They DID make a living from it.)

I’ve done a Purim Shpiel or 2 in my time, as well as some MC gigs and some standup (OK, OK, all for Jewish fundraising evenings). My kids often used to put together entertainments which equally often ended in fisticuffs, but were great fun, until the crying. Even today, the highlight of our Seder is the Ma Nishtana, which we all do from youngest to oldest, in whatever language or manner desired. (One year, 2 daughters did a version in interpretive dance. You had to have been there.) And my youngest son has A Voice. But really, he has the makings of a great Chazzan. I wish my folks were around to hear him.

So when I was chilling with the grandchildren last Friday night, waiting for the menfolk to come home from Shul, my 6-year-old granddaughter (fittingly named after my late mother, the tearaway performer), suddenly announced in her Master of Ceremonies voice, ‘Ladies and Gentlemen! Tonight we are having a contest! And everyone will do something! Like sing or dance or something!’ ‘You mean a talent quest?’ She thought for a second and nodded, not really understanding the words but getting the concept very clearly. ‘You too, Booba!’

So the 3 kids and I entertained each other with various renditions of Seder-oriented songs, about kadesh-urchatz and dam-tzefardaya and Ma Nishtana and Little Cottage in the Woods (that was me) and then a rousing chorus of Dayenu. And the 2-year-old declared that she was going to be ‘a pwincess ballewina’ for Pesach, possibly confusing it with Purim; but then she decided to be ‘a piwate’ and stood on a chair wearing her pirate hat, growling ’Ahawh, me hawties!’ and we fell about laughing.

And I know, I just know, that on Seder night next Friday it will be tears and stage-fright and bribes and cajoling and fights, and not a lot of fun for them. But last Friday night, it was magic.