A Short History of "The Golden Land"
By Moishe Rosenfeld
October 28, 1984. It had been a two-year whirlwind.
From a concert at a Workmen’s Circle convention in the Catskills,
commissioned by WC’s Education Director, my uncle Yosl Mlotek
celebrating the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Jewish Daily
Forward to this grand opening night at the Norman Thomas High
School on East 33rd Street. It had been a journey filled with twists
and turns. The original cast of four, Eleanor Reissa, Phyllis Berk,
Avi Hoffman and me had rehearsed the material at my cousin Zalmen
Mlotek’s tiny West 106th Street apartment. Much of the material had
been recently unearthed by my beloved aunt, Zalmen’s mother Chana
Mlotek, and as we wove it into a chronological timeline, and as
Zalmen’s musical genius brought the tremendous emotional impact of
the immigrant story to the fore, we all became deeply engaged with
this new musical and theatrical collaboration. By the end of the
performance at the Stevensville Hotel in June 1982, we knew this
would not be a “one-off.” The audience laughed, and at times wept
and gave us a standing ovation.
That fall we presented it at the Central Synagogue
Auditorium on East 55th Street, where the Folksbiene had been
performing ever since the Forward Building was sold in 1974.
Again, a wonderful reception, and a review in the New York Times.
After the first performance, the iconic Yiddish actor Leon
Liebgold told me “it reminds me so much of the work we did in the
Poylishe Bande” -- the young Yiddish theater company that he’d been
part of in pre-war Warsaw. Such a compliment from Molly Picon’s
co-star in the film “Yidl Mitn Fidl” was very special.
In the following year, the script evolved, new songs
were added, the show was given a name -- The Golden Land -- and was
presented by the original cast in New York, Toronto, Cleveland,
Louisville, Detroit … and eventually at the Upper East Side
apartment of Broadway agents Debbie Coleman and Jack Rosenberg, who
were the agents of Jean Stapleton with whom Zalmen had worked in a
theater the previous summer. The performance was an audition for a
number of Broadway and Off Broadway producers. Among the attendees
was Art D’Lugoff the owner of the legendary Village Gate, and Manny
Azenberg, the Broadway producer of all of Neil Simon’s plays among
many others. We gave it our all. At the end of the performance,
Manny invited all of us out for dinner where he commented “Shver
gearbet, kinderlekh.” (You worked hard, kids.) He expressed
admiration for the work, saying his background in Labor Zionist
summer camps endeared him to Yiddish culture. He encouraged us to
keep going, building the project. But didn’t offer to produce it.
The following day, I got a call from Art D’Lugoff
asking to meet with Zalmen and me. He said he was in love with the
show and would be interested in getting involved. We shook hands and
said “Let’s do it!” In the early spring of 1984, the Yiddish
theater star Ben Bonus, who had produced a number of seasons at the
Norman Thomas High School, died. Ben had been a force, keeping
professional Yiddish theater going in the face of its demise around
the world. And he had managed to attract audiences to his shows in
which he and his wife Mina Bern starred with special guests like
Liebgold, Seymour Rexsite and Miriam Kressyn, and the brilliant
Yiddish comedian Shimon Dzigan who had been part of the hysterical
duo Dzigan un Schumacher before and after World War 2. So Ben’s
passing dealt a blow to the remnant Yiddish theater community. All
that was active at the time was the Folksbiene, which stuck to its
non-union “ensemble” profile, leaving the Hebrew Actors Union a bit
forlorn.
During those days, I had begun to host a daily
Yiddish newscast on Radio Station WEVD -- named after the American
socialist Eugene Victor Debs. There, I often ran into Seymour
Rexsite who hosted a show Memories of the Yiddish Theater with his
wife Miriam Kressyn. One day, Seymour approached me and said - how
about taking over the Norman Thomas? (another great socialist, by
the way.) I said what? How? He said, “I’ll introduce you to the
custodian. You should do The Golden Land there.”
So the path was clear (ish). Zalmen and I
decided to go for it, believing that with Art D’Lugoff in the mix,
we had a good shot at putting it all together. But - small
detail - we had no money. Producing a big show in a seven
hundred seat theater would
certainly cost … SOMETHING!
We approached the Yiddish supporting psychiatrist
couple Arnold and Arlene Richards to see if they might host a
fundraising concert in their apartment.
We did it and raised $30,000 … Not so much when we’re
talking about producing a freaking musical! But we were naive
novices, so we moved ahead. Zalmen and I kept working on the piece …
we expanded the Yiddish theater section. Added a Yiddish radio
section … Zalmen found ways to meld Yiddish and English songs of the
same period into heartrending duos. One afternoon, at a meeting
with Art in my apartment, he played us the song Bread And Roses that
had been an anthem of the early 20th century women’s labor
movement. What an amazing addition that formed one of several
climactic moments in the final production. We connected with the
super-talented Bruce Adler, the son of a Yiddish theater couple
Julius Adler and Henrietta Jacobson, and a veteran of several
Broadway shows and Yiddish theater productions. He loved the concept
and signed on.
Zalmen introduced me to a young director he’d worked
with -- Howard Rossen -- who agreed to direct and choreograph the
show for the Norman Thomas High School. Pieces were starting to
fall into place. Now that we had Bruce, I was no longer in the
cast. Sadly Eleanor Reissa couldn’t be in the show because of
another commitment. A friend, artist Abe Lubelsky, designed a
simple movable set. Off Broadway lighting designer Victor En Yu Tan
worked with the limited equipment available to create a gorgeous
lighting plot. Art had connected us with a fantastic ad agency that
would give us ads for which we could pay a month later. We opened
an office in the Workmen’s Circle building on the first floor, from
where we sold group sales and tickets, which gave us some additional
cash flow as the opening approached.
For Zalmen, this became an artistic canvas on which
to create his magic. He engaged a seven-piece orchestra which
performed with orchestrations by Pete Sokolow, an early pioneer of
the Klezmer revival. Zalmen was now working with a cast of five --
Avi Hoffman, Phyllis Berk, Joanne Borts, Betty Silberman and Bruce
Adler, and he built a musical retelling of the journey from Ellis
Island to the creation of the State of Israel in a most melodic,
harmony-rich, exciting, moving and entertainment vocal score that
inspired my book and continuity, Howard’s staging, and Pete’s
gorgeous orchestrations.
Aside from being an active co-creator with Zalmen,
and constantly fine tuning and shaping the script and storyline, I
was also the co-Producer. In the lead up to the premiere, I remember
describing my role as running down the street balancing a hundred
valuable plates and classes and perishables on my head and in my
arms, and catching each before it hits the ground. In other words,
I barely knew what the hell I was doing.
But time doesn’t stand still and opening night was
approaching. We needed costumes and a recent arrival from Russia,
Natasha Landau was introduced to me, and she went to work at the
Costume Collection creating a gorgeous wardrobe, which she slaved
over till the very last minute before the premiere.
The audience was packed - 700 people. Many of them
invited guests and press. The dress rehearsal had had many mishaps -
which someone told me was a good sign. The lights dimmed, Zalmen
came out to conduct the overture and … Game on!
I spent most of act one in the box office with our
sweet treasurer Sylvia from the Lower East Side, who had been
selling tickets in the Yiddish theater for decades. What a ziskayt
-- with a dialect unique to the children of Jewish immigrants on the
Lower East Side.
After counting the cash, I put it all in a bag and
didn’t know what to do with it. So I took it upstairs to the
theater to watch the rest of the show. When I entered the back, of
the house, the cast was singing Ruth Rubin’s devastatingly powerful
“Ballad of the Triangle Fire,” which portrayed the horrific death of
146 working women and girls in a fire at their factory near
Washington Square Park in 1911. The mourners on stage evolved
into angry protesters demanding that the martyrdom of these
immigrant girls not be in vain, and soon they were marching on stage
to the song Bread and Roses. I felt my heart pounding with emotion,
pride inspiration … and then the scene shifted to our cast being
sworn in as American citizens and singing “Gebentsht iz Amerike!”
(Blessed is America). INTERMISSION. Wow what a buzz. People were
hugging me, the audience was thrilled. I was … relieved. Act 2
showed the upward mobility of the immigrants moving from the Lower
East Side to Harlem, the joys of going to the Yiddish theater, the
heartbreak of the Depression, the lead up to World War II and the
nightmarish revelations of the Holocaust. Resilience, the UN Vote
creating the State of Israel, and a new wave of immigrants -
Holocaust survivors - coming to Ellis Island and America -- Am
Yisroel Chai -- the Jewish People Lives.
The audience went wild, shouts of bravo filled the
air as everyone stood for a seemingly endless ovation.
Zalmen and I and the cast stayed on the stage as the audience began
to filter out. We had a very special guest who wanted to see us. It
was Molly Picon who had been the queen of the Yiddish theater
throughout the twentieth century. She took Zalmen’s hand and my
hand and held them as she said: “Boys, I have never in my life been
so moved by a theater production as I was tonight. Thank you.” |