Professor David Peimer
Fiddler on the Roof

Professor David Peimer - Fiddler on the Roof

- [Lauren] All right, David. We have a little under 1,000 participants with us, so I think we should give the people what they want and give them “Fiddler”.

• Okay. All right, thanks so much. Thanks, Lauren. Judy, Wendy, everybody as always, for your wonderful help. And welcome, everybody and hope everyone is well. The sun is actually shining bright in Liverpool land. Hope you’re all well everywhere you are. And in the spirit of August and in the spirit of just talking about a little bit of lighter stuff compared to a lot of the very important serious topics we’ve been focusing on. I’m going to talk about “Fiddler” today. The remarkable musical that everybody knows so well inside, out and backwards. And not only Jewish people, but many others, obviously, of the 1964 Broadway production, as well as the 1971 Norman Jewison film. With Topol, the fantastic Israeli actor and the Broadway production with the remarkable Zero Mostel. Just to begin with very briefly on “Fiddler”, just a couple of thoughts on the context, and then I’m going to dive into what we are going to share today in the spirit of light enjoyment and pleasure celebrating in a way, as we have been doing over August.

And although of course there are the darker sides in the musical, but overall, what we’re going to look at from this quite incredible piece of writing and composing and acting. Sholem Aleichem, as many people know, I’m just going to mention a few things briefly ‘cause I’m sure everybody knows his biography very well. He actually spent three years tutoring the wealthy landowner’s daughter, who then married in 1883, Olga, and against the wishes of her father. So he understood in a way, early on the theme of generational conflict going against the father traditions and so on. Then a couple of years later, they inherited the estate of Olga’s father, and in 1890, Sholem lost their entire fortune in a stock speculation, fled from the creditors. Then later came the pogroms, as we all know, in Imperial Southern Russia.

And in 1905, he immigrates to New York City. He’s suffering from TB for a long time and for the last four years of his life, he’s pretty ill and supported by donations. But most of his wonderful stories have been written, his celebration of Yiddish, a devoted Zionist as we know. And then at the funeral in 1916 in New York, it’s estimated there were 100,000 learners. Can we know for sure? No. Is it accurate? I’m sure. But approximately, just to give an idea of how much he loves and connection, so many people felt for him in the early 1900s. That’s very briefly, just a little snapshot of his life, because I want to spend much more time, obviously, on the musical itself, which his stories gave rise to Tevye and the daughters. But the amazing group who did it of the writer, the composer, and Norman Jewison, the director. To begin with, I want to just throw open and share with us why on earth look at “Fiddler” today, 70 years later, after this musical was made, what is its enduring and enduring presence and connection to us today of this?

I mean, we’re coming up for a century of this, and yet, why is it still so popular, not only amongst Jews, many people around the world, cultures, ages, young, older, whatever. What does it still speak to us? Is it just a sort of schmaltzy, shtetl kitsch as Philip Roth said? Philip Roth has written a damning attack on it many years ago. Is it just a shtetl kitsch, schmaltzy, fully sentimental, nostalgia, idealising nonsense? Does it give sort of sugar Saccharin coating to the serious stuff of the time? Just to obviously throw out these obvious questions, and for us to fairly honestly have a look at it, and I’m going to give my personal response. The early critics focused a lot on the apparent cheerfulness of all the characters going through hard times, tough times, choices, Tevye, the daughters, Olga. Is it a way of coping with adversity to have wit, humour, and of course, wonderful irony? Which is a mock of the entire, of short stories and of this production? Are there mere caricatures who have no bearing on reality? In which case, if they are mere caricatures, is it set up for satire, for humour, and ridicule?

Are there ridiculous characters? Is there a thread to a reality? Is it all, in other words, enduring kitchen schmaltz, a kind of just a feelgood production, a feelgood movie, and have a cup of coffee, forget about it. But then why has it spoken to so many people around the world? Why is it still being performed so much in over 70 years since the original production in '64 and the movie in '71? Why has it performed in so many cultures and such diverse cultures globally? Africa, Asia, Europe, obviously the America. Is it just about religious conformity and tradition and modernity, the obvious theme? Is it about humour as a way of coping with tough times? Is the image of the “Fiddler” this amazing image, the precariousness of life of the Jews in the shtetl? Or is that an image of life, not only of the Jews in the shtetl, but a universe approach an image of life that he’s balancing on top of a rooftop? The precariousness of the image, as we all know from Marc Chagall’s wonderful painting. Is the “Fiddler on the Roof” itself the ultimate image that speaks to us of the precarious, the fragility, the touch and go, the coming and going of life? The sudden changes of huge life events, personal and political. Is it because there’s a kind of visual beauty in the way the film is made and one can’t deny it, it’s shot with such a beauty and the attention to the colour, the voices, the acting, the faces. Extraordinary focus on the zoom in camera, on the faces. Is it, I mean, Jerome Robbins, who was brought in to be the director, and as we all know, directed the great “West Side Story.” He was determined.

He said, “It’s got to be universal. So it’s not only a Jewish story,” it’s obviously a Jewish story, but it’s universal themes and can speak universally. And Jerome Robbins in the original production on Broadway was determined to show that. For me, as Jewish and from South Africa, it reminds me a lot of, and I’m sure many people South Africans know Herman Charles Bosman’s magnificent short stories. The folk life from within the small town, the small little place, out the middle of nowhere. And yet all the little stuff that goes on, all the customs and the habits and the gossiping and the chattering and all going on. And then every now and then, the big world out there comes in and smashes it this way or that way, or turns it one way or the other. Herman Charles Bosman and so many others that it triggers a connection with perhaps Mark Twain in the States and others. So it’s directed by, I want to question all of these things as we go along. And I’m going to show lots of short clips from the production and from the film. Directed by Norman Jewison, Canadian, Protestant, as I’m sure everybody knows, despite the surname. He was in the Canadian army during World War II. Particularly late in 1944, '45. And he had a strong sense of social justice. I mean, he’s directed many films and he was a wonderful director. And at 96 years old, in fact, many of these originators lived well into their 90s or 80s. Screenplay by Joseph Stein, Polish Jewish parents. He also wrote “Zorba.”

The lyrics by Sheldon Harnick. Chicago boy, Jewish, lived to his 90s. And the music, as we all know by Jerry Bock. I’m not going to spend time on them because I’m sure everybody knows something of their lives very well. Interestingly, it’s set in its time. And that’s important 'cause a lot of contemporary musicals are set in a metaphorical space on stage. Cats, many, many others. They’re not set specifically or they’re combination of abstract and literal. Whereas this is literally set in its time. Real houses, real village, real animals, real barn, more or less, 1905, early 1900s. The wisdom of Tevye. When Perchik, excuse my pronunciation sometimes wants to marry his daughter, money is the curse of the world. And Tevye, well, may the Lord smite me with it and may I never recover. The constant irony and wit, which humanises Tevye and all the characters so much. I think for me, forbids us and forbids an audience to lack empathy and to lack humanity. Because Tevye shows so much of that humanity. We hardly ever see his anger and rage, very much that that is accused of just being a cheerful character. But there are plenty scenes in the film and the production which show the pain, the adversity, the understanding of the life he’s living. And of course, he understands that life for Jews and this kind of shtetl is precarious at best, and a lot of other things, worst as we all know.

My grandfather, and I’m sure many, many others that are here today and around the world, have grandparents, parents, great-grandparents, we know the background only too well. A recent production done in England a while ago, about eight, nine years ago by Trevor Nunn, who’s one of the most significant classical, usually Shakespeare, but one of the most important theatre directors in England. And his production, interestingly of less eight, nine years ago, focused more on the sense of the Russian czars and the thugs and the pogroms and patrolling the shtetl. This constant ominous shadowy threatening presence than we see literally in the film. All around Anatevka and shtetl. The sort of romantic, more idealistic parts of the production were constantly shadowed by the impending sense of genocide and doom to come. And what’s fascinating is that them writing it in the '60s, and the story’s written in the early 1900s, sorry, in the early 19th, yeah, 1900 and late 18th century. 19th century, sorry. What’s fascinating to me is how it combines what’s happening then. So it’s 35 years really before the Holocaust, and yet it’s written in the early '60s, post the Eichmann Trial, post the Nuremberg trials.

So we, as an audience, come in with this double knowledge of history, as it were. Not only Jewish, I would argue, but most people around the world coming with a sense of an awareness post that period of the '60s and the Holocaust and I suppose, inherited images and stories from the early 1900s of exile and immigration in our own families. And Trevor Nunn’s production focused much more on the viciousness of the pogrom as a forte of what was to come. His was a much more literal, almost, if you like, politically orientated production, interestingly because it struck a real chord in England at the time. And if one thinks about it, when it permeate in '64 in New York City, it’s only towards, what? 25, 26 years after the Holocaust and 27 years after the end of the war. So who’s actually watching in New York? Families for whom this is so immediate and so direct. Survivors perhaps watching it as well. Exile, immigration.

It’s been spoken of as really an American musical about exile in immigration of American Jewish families. Not only American could be like my own Lithuanian coming to South Africa or to England, or to Australia or wherever in the world. So it’s got that interesting sense of playing with history. So it’s got to have a very subtle, delicate touch because it’s such a incredibly important moment in history that it’s playing with. And I believe personally, it hits the mark. And when the villager says towards the end, “We’ll go to Poland.” Well, we know the fate of the descendants. We know the fate of some of Tevye’s daughters and their family and husband who don’t go to the new world. So we bring all these awareness to watching this, and that’s very important. What’s already in the audience’s imagination and memory, collective memory before they even watch the first moment of the production. So when they say, “We’ll go to Poland,” we know. And interestingly, Jerry Bock’s score, it doesn’t end with a chorus line, which would be classic in musical theatre. As they’re all going into exile or to immigrate wherever.

It ends in silence. And that’s very, very powerful moment, I believe at the end of the production. Often, us theatre people talk about what do we remember three months, six months, a year later from our production? You may remember a few characters, you may remember a couple of lines, but it’s the image that burns into our imagination that we rarely remember, the audience really remembers. And from that image, we create the meaning and the feeling of that production. And that image at the end of the lines, just going slowly carrying their wares from the village, walking into exile, walking into the horror to come, Poland is going to be a golden land. New York is going to be the golden mecca wherever in the world. Well, the tough times, no naivety as to what is to come. And we know watching that because we are watching it way after the period of the war, which changes it completely for the audience, I believe.

And when Trevor Nunn did the production, and if I were a rich man is not sung in the same way with a charming, well, maybe help me God, this and that. And Tevye, the cheerful peasant milkman and so on, it’s sung with cries of pain. It’s sung with a struggle with tradition, a struggles being poor and in abject poverty. Very different interpretation by this extremely renowned fantastic British director. So it’s fascinating that all different kinds of productions obviously can be staged of this. Not only the classical one that we know. The Zero Mostel and Topol, okay? It shows Tevye in real poverty and tough, hardworking life. The Trevor Nunn wonderful production. The critics. Philip Roth, as I said, called it shtetl kitsch. Cynthia Ozick said, “It was emptied out, petrified, romantic, and vulgar.” Ruth Franklin, another important well-known critic, “It’s cartoonish, condescending, pure Broadway.” Well, as quite a lot of others have written in response to this, in response to Roth and others. “Well, who doesn’t need a little bit of shtetl kitsch every now and then? What’s the problem with a bit of shtetl kitsch?

You got a problem?” And there’ve been so many debates and arguments around from the lighthearted to those serious academics to a whole range. And well, for me, the brilliance of the production and the writing is that it opens to all these possible responses. If everybody just agreed, it would be boring, of course it’s sentimental. Of course, kitsch, of course, it’s idealising, it’s obvious. All of that stuff, it’s obvious. Of course, it’s a bit over cheerful and all that. And maybe glosses easily over the abject poverty and the tough times of these daughters and the Russian society of the time, the pogroms, the extreme horror of the pogroms. Not just breaking a few glasses and a few things here and there like in the film of course. But there’s also perhaps a poignant courage. There’s a sense of what is to come. Perhaps there’s a sense of understanding something deeper, which takes it beyond sentimental idealism, way beyond. Movies like “My Big Frat Greek Wedding,” “Bend It Like Beckham,” they tell the immigrant parent’s story and the generation of the child. “Bend It Like Beckham” the Indian family in England. “My Big Fat Greek Wedding,” we all know, the parent, child, the father daughter, etc. etc. And of course, there is this coming of age musical, this coming of age, the teenager phenomenon. And older than that, the young woman and the father, an intergenerational conflict, that’s obvious. And an immigrant parent.

But “My Big Fat Greek Wedding,” “Bend It Like Beckham,” for me, they essentially tell the immigrant parents, “Relax, your kids can embrace Western culture and can still have some tradition.” Fiddler acknowledges, yeah, tradition’s going to be weakened. And it’s pro-individualism, but it also doesn’t flinch because the rise of the modern world for the Jews is the end of Anatevka, which is different to “My Big Fat Greek Wedding,” “Bend It Like Beckham” and many other of these coming of age productions. It’s the end, it’s the horror of the Holocaust, obviously, that shadows everything. And it’s the annihilation of an entire world and the beginnings of an immigrant exile culture for a new world. Which I think makes it, and it shows it. And I think makes it different from a lot of the other films and plays that deal with similar topics. Tevye and his wife, they two youngest daughters, the waves of history are moving and there’s a bit of faith coming for the three daughters who stay and the husbands who stay behind. And that’s the terrible irony at the end. They may think they’re going to a new land, promised land, Poland, wherever, some to New York, but some are staying. And we know what is to come. The frozen stampede. The age. So the ironic is there.

There’s the very powerful stuff in “Fiddler.” It’s not just about the Yiddish, the kind of kitsch and the schmaltz of it, but how to deal with profound change, profound tradition, and the danger of the Russian empire of the time? The pogroms, and what is to come? Or experienced by a milkman who’s got a sense of humour and irony. It reminds me a little bit of Mother Courage by breath, but that’s a whole different story and many other plays that use a similar kind of theme. Sholem Aleichem was called the Jewish Mark Twain, because folk tales, the writing, the ironic and witty attitude to life. And when Mark Twain heard of it, he said, “He’s the Jewish Mark Twain? Well if he is, then tell Sholem I want to be known as the American Sholem Aleichem.” Mark Twain’s irony with complete understanding of the Jewish condition. As I said, he was an advocate of Zionism in 1907. He was an American delegate to the Eighth Zionist Congress in the Hague. The production itself. An amazing face if we look at it of Topol, The Israeli actor that we all know, inside art and backwards.

But if we look at this image, for me, and I know he’s a brilliant actor, but there’s something deeper even than acting in this image, in this face. It goes so deep inside me, and I’m probably being sentimental and naive and idealising here, but there’s something very powerful that remains. Something I love, this is the Zero Mostel rehearsing for the 1964 Broadway production. Both amazing actors and Norman Jewison was honest and he said, “Look, I couldn’t cast Zero Mostel in the film because he’s an actor for the stage. He’s over the top.” And ironically, of course, he works brilliantly in “Waiting for Godot” and others 'cause it needs that very physical over-the-top acting. But Norman Jewison, I think very intelligently understood. It could be too much. Too much physicality, too over-the-top acting for the film. Either way, he chooses another actor, Topol, a fantastic Israeli actor, and the fantastic Zero Mostel, we can celebrate both, I really believe. And I don’t think one is either better than the other and can be debated till the cars come home. '64 production, and then from the early '70s in the film and Topol acting many times all over the world up into the 21st century. The film grossed $83 million worldwide, cost 9 million to make. Biggest grossing film of the early '70s, wins three Oscars. Let’s think about it. Perchik is a radical Marxist, wants to marry one of the daughters. And Tevye’s second daughter Hodel, falls in love.

Then of course, we have the pogrom scene. Why is this going to happen? Perchik is arrested, exiled to Siberia, Hodel decides to join him there. And we know the Gulag and other things to come. Again, with the advance of history, we are watching it. And it’s so important 'cause I think these writers are so aware where the audience is coming from. Her daughter, Chava, obviously falls in love with a Russian Orthodox Christian. So Tevye can accept a Marxist, he can accept a poor taiLor for a husbands, but he can’t accept a guy who ain’t Jewish. Right at the end, “God be with you,” he says to Chava and they leave. So it shows the complexity of the characters, I think, in terms of their decisions. And the constable watches silently the massive evacuation of the little shuttle of shtetl Anatevka. So, I think there are a lot of these complications that take it out of being didactic and take it out of being boringly polemical and overly directly, if you like, polemical and political in that way to make it an artwork for me. Does it still speak today? I don’t know. We will have to speak to many, many others and how everybody feels. It’s filmed in Yugoslavia and England.

So the inside shots are filmed and the shuttle shots are filmed in are filmed in the studios in Pinewood in England, and then a lot of the other shots, the outside on Yugoslavia. And interestingly in the winter, I’m sorry to take away the illusions, but I love finding it out. It enriches my, when I watch anyway, the winter scenes, of course it’s filmed in summer and they shipped in marble dust for snow. As they did for “Doctor Zhivago” which is filmed in the middle of summer in Madrid. All those snow scenes, etc. For me, it doesn’t detract, it adds to my pleasure in watching these movies. The one other idea that I want to go spoke about today is the idea of shame. Because I think a contemporary interpretation of this production is to do with the psychology of shame. Shame in the family, shame in the group, shame in the parent-child, shame in tradition modernity, shamed as a force for her to control a group. So the group have their traditions here and to the character of Tevye, shame the daughters. it’s not just about love triumphing over tradition and religious faith. It’s also about how the father and that generation are shamed by the love of the child.

They don’t deserve to be punished. They’re young, coming of age. They fall in love. Do they deserve to be punished? Is it undeserved misfortune? Or do the children deserve the misfortune? Are the parents then shamed? Is Tevye and Golde, are they shamed into saying, “How can I put the tradition before my love for my kid?” At the moment, what’s happening in the world? Are people shamed by what’s happening to Afghanistan translators and others who helped British and American and other forces of NATO and the translators and we know exactly what’s going to happen to them in the future? Is the culture shamed or not? Interestingly, in England, it took a young 21-year-old footballer Marcus Rashford to shame Boris and the boys, when they took away the money to give to little kids who were poor, came from poor families and didn’t have enough money for lunch at school. And the British government used to often provide a lot of school lunches. So Marcus Rashford, who came from a single mother family like that, who didn’t have enough food when he was a kid at school for lunch, but is now one of the most international famous footballers in the world, earning millions and millions. He organised through Manchester, he organised an extraordinary nationwide British campaign. And Boris and the boys backed off. Were shamed. And they spoke about, use the word “shame,” not them, but others, and gave the money for lunches, for a whole lot of poor kids in England.

The word “shame” has often been used with parenting and with so many others, these are just two examples. But there are so many others around the world where in a sense, the quality of shame has actually caused a bit of a culture change. In this film, and I think in so many theatre productions and films, in West Side’s story, it takes the death of Tony to shame the two gangs, the jets and the sharks realising what have we done? And make peace. In Romeo and Juliet, it takes the death of the kids, teenage kids to shame the two families. The Capulets, etc. To shame them into making some kind of brief peace. So I think the contemporary notion of shame and individual and group conformity is a very contemporary interpretation and a way of looking at this and how it really, really works. And when one does it in films and in productions going way back to antiquity of 2,500 years ago in an ancient Greek play is exactly the shame. She shames Creon the King. And it’s used so powerfully.

Hamlet ultimately, yeah, etc. We can go on and on. When Joseph Stein wrote it, first he ever said, “Are you crazy? You want to write a musical about old Jews in Russia who are going through a pilgrim. You out of your mind?” And he and the composers battled to get Bocks. Very hard. And yet today, it is set up as emblematic of one of the great examples of musical theatre tradition throughout the world. When the writers were talking to Jerome Robbins about, he was saying to him, “What is the call? What is the meaning?” “I can’t find it yet.” And he couldn’t direct it. And then they said, eventually they blurted out, this literally happened at a meeting with Jerome Robbins, “It’s about tradition for God’s sake.” He said, “Ah, that’s it, I got it. Please give me a song.” And that’s how the song tradition came about, the director. And he said, “That unlocks everything for me as a director.” And of course, we’re talking about his times. Early '60s, is it too much of a stretch to think of what’s happening in the states, civil rights, Vietnam, other things, tradition changed, etc.

Maybe it’s pushing a point way too much. I said about the title from the Chagall picture. Came from Jerome Robbins. That scene came from Jerome Robbins going to do his research. He went to Hasidic weddings. Let me say also then that when it began and opened in Detroit, it wasn’t a success and it was seen as very mediocre, boring other things. Yes, it’s by parental control of children, the modern world, traditional, and so on and so on. But it wasn’t given the credit early on that it’s now accorded. Quite incredible. It’s been attacked. Doesn’t show the real poverty. Doesn’t show the shoeless hungry kids, homes with filthy floors, the cleaning, the exhaustion of the mothers and the others, cleaning, washing, day after day, cooking, the real physical and all that, which the Trevor Nunn production, I mentioned. All of these are valid and real criticisms, but I don’t think it takes away from the inevitable charm. And I want to argue that somewhere deep down, and I use this word very thoughtfully, all theatre and film, which really works in the end, has some kind of charm.

And I don’t mean the stereotype notion of charm, it has something of grace. It has something of redemption, of something greater than ourselves that charms us, seduces, pulls the audience in. And those qualities are so powerful in theatre and film. As yes, it’s not only that he’s naively, perhaps he’s aware, cheerful, and he’s witty and he’s ironic. And the way he deals with pain and adversity, Tevye and the others is a charm about the entire story. There’s a charm even about the antiquity story, the Romeo and Juliet story. When they’re not told with that kind of quality, I don’t believe an audience empathises as nearly as much, and I really don’t mean just the obvious charm boy meet girl kind of stuff. I mean charm in the metaphorical sense of the artistic meaning of the word. Let me show, I want to move on here. It’s one of the great classic scenes of them all.

CLIP BEGINS

• And how do we keep our balance? That, I can tell you in one word. Tradition.

♪ Tradition ♪ ♪ Tradition ♪ ♪ Tradition, tradition, tradition ♪ ♪ Tradition ♪

Because of our traditions, we’ve kept our balance for many, many years. Here in Anatevka, we have traditions for everything. How to sleep, how to eat. How to work. How to wear clothes. For instance, we always keep our heads covered. And always wear little prayer shawl. This shows our constant devotion to God. You may ask, how did this tradition get started? I’ll tell you. I don’t know. But it’s a tradition. And because of our traditions, every one of us knows who he is and what God expects him to do. ♪ Who, day and night, must scramble for a living

♪ ♪ Feed a wife and children, say his daily prayers ♪ ♪ And who has the right as the master of the house ♪ ♪ To have the final word at home ♪ ♪ The papa ♪ ♪ The papa ♪ ♪ Tradition ♪ ♪ The papa ♪ ♪ The papa ♪ ♪ Tradition ♪ ♪ Who must know the way to make a proper home ♪ ♪ A quiet home, a kosher home ♪ ♪ Who must raise a family and run the home ♪ ♪ So papa’s free to read the Holy Book ♪ ♪ The mama ♪ ♪ The mama ♪ ♪ Tradition ♪ ♪ The mama ♪ ♪ The mama ♪ ♪ Tradition ♪ ♪ At three, I started Hebrew school ♪ ♪ At 10, I learned a trade ♪ ♪ I hear they picked the bride for me ♪ ♪ I hope she’s pretty ♪ ♪ And who does mama teach to mend and tend and fix ♪ ♪ Preparing her to marry whoever papa picks ♪ ♪ The daughters ♪ ♪ The daughters ♪ ♪ Tradition ♪ ♪ The papas ♪ ♪ Mamas ♪ ♪ Sons ♪ ♪ The daughters ♪ ♪ Tradition ♪

CLIP ENDS

• I’m going to hold that and move on to another one which I want to show here. Tevye talking to God and one of the great classics of all time.

CLIP BEGINS

• Dear God, what, is that necessary? Did you have to make a claim just before the Sabbath? That was nice. It’s enough, you pick on me. Bless me with five daughters, a life of poverty. That’s all right. But what have you got against my horse? Really. Sometimes I think when things are too quiet up there, you say to yourself, “Let’s see, what kind of mischief can I play on my friend Tevye?”

• [Golde] Aha, so you’re finally here, my breadwinner.

• I’ll talk to you later.

• So why are you late today?

• His food went plain.

• Well, hurry up, the sun won’t wait. And I have something important to say to you.

• Still have some deliveries in the village.

• You’ll be late for the Sabbath.

• I won’t be late.

• [Golde] You’ll be late.

• I won’t be late. I won’t be late! If you ever stop talking, I won’t be late!

• You can die from such a man.

• As the good book says, “Heal us so Lord, and we shall be healed.” In other words, send us the cure. We’ve got the sickness already. Well, I’m not truly complaining. After all, with your help, yeah, I’m starving to death. Oh, dear Lord. You made many, many poor people. I realise, of course, it’s no shame to be poor, but it’s not great honour either. So what would’ve been so terrible if I had a small fortune?

♪ If I were a rich man ♪ ♪ Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum ♪ ♪ All day long, I’d biddy biddy bum ♪ ♪ If I were a wealthy man ♪ ♪ I wouldn’t have to work hard ♪ ♪ Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum ♪ ♪ If I were a biddy biddy rich ♪ ♪ yidle-diddle-didle-didle man ♪ ♪ I’d build a big, tall house with rooms by the dozen ♪ ♪ Right in the middle of the town ♪ ♪ A fine tin roof with real wooden floors below ♪ ♪ There would be one long staircase just going up ♪ ♪ And one even longer coming down ♪ ♪ And one more leading nowhere, just for show ♪

CLIP ENDS

• Okay, and now, I want to show a very different, this is the stage version with Zero Mostel. And you get a sense of what I was saying. This is so much more physical and exaggerated acting, which is fantastically comedy from Zero Mostel compared to Topol’s brilliant interpretation. For me, equally brilliant film and theatre.

CLIP BEGINS

• Dear God, you made many, many poor people. I know it’s no great shame to be poor. But it’s no great honour either. What would’ve been so terrible if I had a small fortune?

♪ If I were a rich man ♪ ♪ Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum ♪ ♪ All day long, I’d biddy biddy bum ♪ ♪ If I were a wealthy man ♪ ♪ I wouldn’t have to work hard ♪ ♪ Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum ♪ ♪ If I were a biddy biddy rich ♪ ♪ yidle-diddle-didle-didle man ♪ ♪ I’d build a ♪

• Sorry, I’ll just get that back.

♪ Right in the middle of the town ♪ ♪ A fine tin roof with real wooden floors below ♪ ♪ There would be one long staircase just going up ♪ ♪ And one even longer coming down ♪ ♪ And one more leading nowhere, just for show ♪ ♪ I’d fill my yard with chicks ♪ ♪ And turkeys and geese and ducks ♪ ♪ For the town to see and hear ♪ ♪ Squawking just as noisily as they can ♪ ♪ And each loud of the gee ♪ ♪ Be it gow, be it geh, be it guh ♪ ♪ Would land like a trumpet on the ear ♪ ♪ As if to say, here lives a wealthy man ♪ ♪ If I were a rich man ♪ ♪ Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum ♪ ♪ All day long, I’d biddy biddy bum ♪ ♪ If I were a wealthy man ♪ ♪ I wouldn’t have to work hard ♪ ♪ Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum ♪

CLIP ENDS

• So you can get two fantastic interpretations of the same character and the same song. Interestingly, when Zero Mostel did it right at the beginning, the opening in Detroit and elsewhere, very muted reviews. Critics wrote, “No memorable songs. Choreography is poor. Mr. Mostel is very average.” Walter Kerr was one of the most important New York critics at the time said, “This is a near miss of a musical.” So very average to negative critics. We all know the global phenomenon that resulted. Since its debut 55 years ago, this “Fiddler”, this production, this musical, has been performed every day somewhere in the world.

That’s extraordinary. The opening production had over 3,200 performances on Broadway, a record for its time. Perhaps even today. The issues of refugees, immigration, nationalism, antisemitism, maybe strikes a chord, maybe not, I don’t know. I merely suggested here. Interestingly, the composer Harnick said, “Tevye’s character is an every man everyone can identify with. He’s the good father with a family.” Topol in an interview, interestingly said, “When I started playing Tevye on stage in 1965, it was only 20 years after the end of the war and the Holocaust. As an Israeli born and raised in Israel, I served in the IDF and I brought some of the toughness and roughness to the role.” Interesting interpretations and understandings by the two actors. Obviously Zero Mostel bringing much more of the physical comedy. And the sense of irony and wit all the time. The other thing which some people may know, is that this musical, has been an absolute huge hit in Japan.

And in fact, when Stein and when the writers of the composer all went for the opening premiere in Tokyo, many journalists came up to them afterwards and said, “How come? How come that so many Americans, they really understand us Japanese so well.” And this is recorded in interviews with the writers and the composer. So obviously, with family, Japan, tradition, modernity, all that’s obvious in terms of the coming of age musical. And I would add the shame of tradition, modernity, that eternal conflict. The eternal conflict between child and parent. Changing the tradition, whether it’s religious or ethnic, it’s always with us as part of human nature. From “Sound of Music” to “West Side Story,” to “Romeo and Juliet,” it’s all there and so on. It’s partly, of course, it’s sentimental, but it’s also connected to something real. The idea of Tevye talking to God is I think, really powerful.

And it reminds me in a way, maybe I’m stretching it. So many of King David’s psalms, he’s talking to God, he’s having an ongoing dialogue and debate for me personally, with God. Yeah, it’s intense and it’s in this beautiful poetry, King David, but there’s a constant dialogue going on in the head. And it’s this constant sense of complaining, whinging, but more importantly, debate. And I think if there’s something, and I’m going to take a step out here and say, there’s something powerful in the Jewish tradition. It’s about debate, discuss, argue, agree, disagree. We all know Golda Meir’s great phrase. “I’m the prime minister of four, 5 Million prime Ministers.” I mean, everybody has an opinion, argue in debate Friday nights, the other times, etc. It’s all about that engagement. It’s not to disengage in a way. Is that part of the tradition or the culture? Does it matter? It’s there.

When Tevye talking to God, for me, is that constant, that example, which I think goes deep into Jewish culture and history, perhaps part of the DNA in a way. “Would it spoil some vast eternal plan, God, if I had a bit of money?” etc. All these phrases that are constantly thrown in in the libretto and in the storybook of the production. And if we imagine being an audience watching this, we know that we are being spoken to as well. Tevye is talking to us, not only to God breaking the fourth wall, as we call it in theatre and talking to us, the audience. And we have to agree with them and agree, well, God, what do you think?

And is God shaming us? Are we shaming God in saying, “Look, would it be such a problem if my horse wasn’t lame? Are you playing mischief with me? Are you having a game? Would it be such a?” And so on. For me, the theme of shame, again, in a contemporary way, runs all the way through it and is poignant. Friend of mine, Malcolm, did a fantastic production of Safia Town, about forced removals of people from Alexandria and from Safia Town Soeta during the horrors of apartheid. And Safia Town also, it’s trying to shame audiences. And it’s about redemption at the end because it’s shaming the people who are forcing the horror of undeserved misfortune on another group. Whether for religious, ethnic, racial reasons, whatever. It’s the power of the psychology of shame to me. That is also so makes it such a global universal phenomenon from an obvious very Jewish intergenerational story. The production wins nine Tonys, three Oscars, been performed in Finland many times.

More than in England, interestingly. Tokyo, many, many times, as I mentioned. In the rehearsals, the very first rehearsal in '64, Jerome Robbins got the members of the cost to improvise scenes of racial discrimination. And he set the rehearsals in the American South and he made people play Black and white and racial discrimination. He was already aware that he wanted the universalist theme. Does it have that, doesn’t it? That’s for us to decide today, looking back over 70 years. Of course, it’s shtetl kitsch, but interestingly, does anybody look at “Guys and Dolls” for an anthropological, realistic description of New York City? Do people look at others or not? Even the “Sound of Music,” is that realistic? And we can go on. “My Fair Lady,” is that really realistic? Of course not. So we can go on. That’s always going to be a saccharin quality to certain extremely popular musicals.

Does it ultimately matter if it reaches such a huge audience? And we can look at many other films and plays made with a similar intention that perhaps ultimately, that it fact that it reaches such a global audience, maybe outweighs the schmaltz and the kitsch inside it. At the end, the constable says, “Well, an order is an order.” He’s got to kick them all out of the shtetl. An order’s an order. And the writers are aware that they’re writing 25 years after Nuremberg, 28 years after Nuremberg. Everybody knows that phrase, Follow orders,“ which is what he’s going to do. So these constant echoes from history, from a history of the early 1900s to the war, to the Holocaust and the audience watching after cannot ever be denied.

And in the end, yes, it’s kitsch, yes it’s schmaltzy, but there is something deeper inside it, which I really believe. Otherwise, I don’t think it would be such a global, if you like to use the common jargon, trans-multicultural production that it is. I want to show some other clips from the production. Yeah. Okay. Okay, I’m going to hold that there. Don’t want to show one or two others in the last few minutes. The sunrise, sunset classic scene, we know leading to the wedding and a certain beauty. Of course, it’s romanticised, idealised perfect sunset, the beautiful sun, everything. But it’s setting that up for the horror and the pogrom that is to come. And then a little bit of this, which is one of the great.

SONG BEGINS

♪ To Lazar Wolf ♪ ♪ To Tevye ♪ ♪ To Tzeitel your daughter ♪ ♪ My wife ♪ ♪ May all your futures just be pleasant ones ♪ ♪ Not like our present ones ♪ ♪ Drink, lechaim to life ♪ ♪ To life, lechaim ♪ ♪ Lechaim ♪ ♪ Lechaim, lechaim, to life ♪ ♪ It takes a wedding to make us say ♪ ♪ Let us live another day ♪ ♪ Drink, lechaim to life ♪ ♪ We raise a glass and sip a drop of schnapps ♪ ♪ In honour of the great good luck ♪ ♪ And favoured you ♪ ♪ We know that when good fortune favours two such men ♪ ♪ It stands to reason, we deserve it too ♪ ♪ To us and our good fortune ♪ ♪ Be happy, be healthy, long life ♪ ♪ And if our good fortune never comes ♪ ♪ Here’s to whatever comes ♪ ♪ Drink, lechaim to life ♪

SONG ENDS

• I still love that scene so much. No matter what, a little bit of lechaim never harmed anybody. To life. And in the "Fiddler”, starting this remarkable scene. From the Chagall painting. In the original film, it was Isaac Stern playing.

CLIP BEGINS

• I hear that congratulations are in order, Tevye.

• Oh. Oh, thank you, your Honour. Thank you.

• Tevye. Tevye.

• Yes, your Honour?

• I have this piece of news I think I should tell you as a friend.

• Yes, your Honour.

• I’m giving you this news because I like you.

• Huh?

• You’re an honest, decent person, even though you are a Jew.

• Oh, thank you, your Honour. How often does a man get a compliment like that?

• Well the Jews. We have received orders that sometime soon, this district is to have a little unofficial demonstration.

• What? Upper ground? Here?

• No, no, no, no, no. Just a little unofficial demonstration.

• Little? How little?

• Ah, not too serious. Just a mischief. So if inspector comes through, he can see that we did our duty. Personally, I don’t know why there has to be this trouble between people, but I thought I should tell you.

• Thank you, your Honour.

CLIP ENDS

• To me, that’s an extraordinarily underrated scene. The acting between the two. The way he’s ridiculing the constable. “Your Honour, your Honour” at the beginning. And then as the reality hits, it’s the end. It’s over. The life is over, things are going to change. It can’t go on. Everything we know is to come. But the acting here and the filming to me, creates such a powerful, poignant moment. And I think it’s very underestimated. And then of course, the pilgrim scene comes afterwards and that line, that great classic line, “I like you so much, even if you are a Jew,” still so resonant, I believe today, many people everywhere or in people’s histories or families, wherever. So I think that the writing is tight and the acting, that sudden change, he’s drunk. But the sobering comes so quickly. And with the weight of history and our knowledge is the audience, comes everything inside the figure of the constable. “I’m your friend, I like you, I’m telling you, da, da, da "but orders.” And since the Nuremberg trials, how that resonates so powerfully everywhere. And the great moment of.

CLIP BEGINS

• Well, Anatevka hasn’t exactly been the Garden of Eden.

• That’s true.

• After all, what have we got here?

♪ A little bit of this ♪ ♪ A little bit of that. ♪ ♪ A pot ♪ ♪ A pan ♪ ♪ A broom ♪ ♪ A hat. ♪ ♪ Someone should have set a match to this place years ago. ♪ ♪ A bench ♪ ♪ A tree. ♪ ♪ What’s a house ♪ ♪ Or a stove ♪ ♪ People who pass through Anatevka ♪ ♪ Don’t even know they’ve been here. ♪ ♪ A stick of wood ♪ ♪ A piece of cloth ♪ ♪ What do we leave? ♪ ♪ Nothing much ♪ ♪ Only Anatevka ♪ ♪ Anatevka, Anatevka ♪ ♪ Underfed, overworked Anatevka ♪ ♪ Where else could Sabbath be so sweet ♪ ♪ Anatevka, Anatevka ♪

CLIP ENDS

• The pain of loss, the pain of exile and going somewhere which is unknown. Whether it’s what is imagined maybe as a Golden Medina or a mecca of sorts. For them, Poland. We know the history to come to Poland or to America or wherever. But nevertheless, the pain of loss and exile, but whatever, a little bit of this little bit of that. No, it’s the identity. It’s the connection to an identity and the security and the safety of that compared to the unknown of where are we going? The eternal story obviously of so many of the Jews for the last nearly 2,000 years, and others, possibly around the world, certainly in our times and other times in history. It captures a very poignant little moment for me, which is actually very, very powerful. Because it’s that complex dilemma. Well, what are we leaving? Is it only identity? Is it only a couple of tables and chairs and a couple of shacks?

Or is it much more? Obviously, it’s a complex combination of all. And I think in a simple brief scene with music and singing and it’s so hard to do with music and singing in a musical. Much easier to do it in a so-called serious play, much easier. But with singing, much harder 'cause singing is always so uplifting, even if it’s about a tragedy. And then finally, the final scene as they’re leaving. The echoes of so much of the poignancy of history. And there’s no great musical number at the end. Like there usually is at most of musical theatre, a redemptive chorus hit song. This is the opposite. Okay, and I’ll hold it there just as a brief image so we get this entire sense of a life portrayed on stage, portrayed on film through a couple of characters. Yes, for all the criticisms from Philip Roth to the others. But I will still say, and I would argue strongly until the end, that this production goes way beyond the accusation of Philip Roth and the others that it’s just shtetl kitsch. Okay, thank you so much, everybody. And I hope it’s been uplifting even with the sadness at the end and real and these conversations we’ve had.

• That was brilliant, David. Thank you so, so much.

• Thank you, Wendy. Much appreciate it.

• Always wonderful to have you with us.

• Thank you so much, Wendy.

• There are many questions, David, are you happy to take them today?

• Yeah, sure. With pleasure.

• Thanks.

Q&A and Comments:

Q: From Marin. Okay, thank you, Marin. A maternal grandfather to the original London production. Do I think anybody made a bigger miscalculation Institute of Theatre?

A: No, as I said, they thought they were only the original cast, thought it was only going to appeal to some Jews, run for a short while and then goodbye. I don’t think they had a clue. And the fact that hell Prince the ultimate producer and the others battled so hard to get the money, to raise the money for this production, shows that it was underestimated. That it would be a universal, not only Jewish story.

Alan, the London production, great. Couple’s sister. Wonderful. Rodney. Yeah, past and present.

Jackie. Before lockdown I saw the new London. Brilliant. And full house, only few Jewish people. Fantastic. Okay, thank you. There’s a reason why people love it, I think. It touches all these aspects we’ve been talking about today,

Sandy. And that for me makes it a work of art. It’s Sandy. I was lucky enough to see opening night. Fantastic. Jewish,

Broadway and Stratford. Yup. And wondered why I wasn’t.

That you were in tears. Okay, that they were in tears. Fantastic.

It reminds me when I saw Leopoldstadt with Trudy and her family kindly took me to a production of Leopoldstadt. And when I went to the toilet at the end of the play and I overheard two guys in the toilet at the theatre of Leopoldstadt saying, “Well, if they feel so strongly, maybe they deserve and should have their own homeland.” And it stuck with me ever after that phrase.

Vivian. Okay, it’s not 70 years, you’re right. 70 years since the war or that late period before the war, '55. Yeah, you’re right.

Okay, thank you. Sheila. It’s also because we know, we’re moved to tears because it’s not just like “Bend It Like Beckham” or “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” etc. It’s Greece and India and the other countries stay. But this is a world annihilated and that’s what takes it out of, from being like many of the other musicals and plays or films for that matter. It’s been completely exterminated this world. Sheila, two or three years ago, I saw the Lester Community Disabled people, yeah.

The Universal messages, yeah. And more moving than the London one by Trevor Nunn. Which has been set up for a lot of, there’s been a lot of debate about Trevor Nunn’s production. But what I’d like is that he does provoke fascinating questions, Trevor Nunn. The humanity, yup. Marilyn. It’s absolute poignancy in Trevor’s story. 'Cause ultimately, it’s the world that is shamed. It’s not only God, but it’s the world that is shame to me by the poignancy because of what happened with the Holocaust and everything coming later. It’s emblematic of that.

Sheldon Harnick and his wife, Margie are still alive. Amazing.

Beth, thank you. I think they’re in their 90s, yes. 95, 96.

Myrna. A few years ago ,I was in New York, my grandson and Sheldon Harnick came to give a masterclass. Fantastic. Okay, it’s brilliant. It must be amazing. He was a young 84 and I’m sure he is a young, I think he’s 96, 97 now.

Pamela, Topol in London? Let my people go. Absolutely. And when the constable also says that line, for a Jew. Look at romancing tragedy, .

Romaine, that would be a long discussion. Sandy. Every time we see the railway scene in the quiet Anatevka. Yup, from Boheme.

Esther, Jerusalem under Tevye the milkman, yup. Tel Aviv. Yeah, great.

Mona. Okay, with Topol. Lord my master, absolutely. For we’re a rich man. So powerful. It’s a sad. Absolutely. And I think for me, Topol end in his own way, Zero Mostel through comedy, he captures it through comedy and Topol through more pain. 2018 in Romania.

Yeah, that’s it. It was transferred to the later. You’re right, Sheila, thank you for correcting me. I got it wrong there.

Hazel. Tevye of all the challenges, the humour, yup.

Dennis, Mostel’s successor Herschel. Philip, it’s universal.

You visited Cape Town, fantastic. The district six, which is part of what my friend Malcolms production supplier town was about, exactly. Good story.

Debbie, thank you. Productions and Herschel. The Yiddish version, extremely powerful. Another whole set of discussions. Fantastic.

Marilyn, Tevye’s world was limited and bewildered. Absolutely. So he’s a man of his time completely. And living all the time in a little village would be probably similar to a little village in most places in the world, with minimal access to… Well today, we’ve had the internet and obviously phones and everything, but in those days, a horse would arrive with some news. What, once every few weeks, once a month?

Q: Regarding Philip Roth from Ruthie. Do you think that Roth is ashamed?

A: Maybe. Again, for me the word shame is fascinating. Is Philip Roth part . I don’t think he is. But is he ashamed of being Jewish? Is there quality of that? Would he rather be, is he caught in that complex set of in inner battles for the broth? Of tradition and modernity?

Monti. Jerome Rabinowitz became Jerome Robbins. Bosman the great writer, absolutely. Today, yes. Ronnie. “West Side Story” is almost all Jewish content. Yup. And also, let’s be honest, Ronnie, from Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet,”

Sheila. Marcus Rathford. Yeah. And to me, it’s about this idea of shame. And our shame works with individuals and group conformity on a social level as well as in theatre. And it’s about love and family, yes. Love and family, about coming of age, teenagers and parents, intergenerational, tradition, modernity, all these themes is in it.

I agree, Yrona. Yup.

Okay, Mickey, thanks.

Hazel, challenges family today and assimilation. Thank you, Hazel. I was going to talk about assimilation more that held off 'cause I know we’ve spoken a lot about assimilation in other talks and it’s absolutely. Assimilation or not, is it that simple choice? I don’t think so. It’s a profoundly emotional conflict, assimilation or adaptation. And I think that’s the eternal challenge. I don’t think there’s an either, or and there’s always a bit of one and a bit of the other. I don’t think it’s either totally assimilate or totally adapt or part of a new or pariah. I think that it’s a complex combination of the Jewish condition today in most western cultures of assimilation. Not in poverty pariah.

How the other perceives the Jew. Staircases, Audrey, yeah. Ruth Golde, twice. It’s so powerful. Okay, thank you. Alice. You saw the production in Detroit.

Linda. Yes, “The Miracle of Miracle’s” fantastic. A fantastic new documentary made about it. It’s an Amazon Prime. Yup, appreciate. Thank you. Zero Mostel, Wonderful as ever. Sheila-

• David, can I just jump in?

• Sure.

Q: Do you want to share that? What was made and what’s on Amazon Prime now?

A: It’s a fantastic documentary called the “Miracle of Miracles” and it’s about the making of “Fiddler the Roof.” And it’s on Amazon Prime and I think it’s on Netflix as well, but I’ll check it. But I know it’s on Amazon Prime as a documentary “Miracle of Miracles,” 2019.

• “Miracle of Miracles.”

• Yup. And it’s a wonderful documentary about the making of the production.

• Okay, great. Thanks for sharing that.

• Sure, thank you.

Q: Carol, do you think it’s all about heart?

A: Heart and head. Because I think it’s head with the chain, the endless momentum of history and the movements of history that these ordinary characters in a little village are caught up in. As history is moving. Russian revolution, Russian pogroms, Russian hatred of Jews, not any Russian global, all of that. And this is not just another exile from one place to another. This is about extermination. They’re leaving future extermination to go somewhere else. And the ones left behind, we know the history.

Judith, Finland. I don’t know if it’s says popular in Israel still. Really interesting question, Judith. I would love to check it out.

Q: And Judith asking, is it ever performed in an Arab country?

A: I’ve tried to research that and I haven’t found yet in recent times. I’ll look again, thank you.

It’s a wonderful question, Julian. The many production of Trevor Nunn, yup.

Sonya. Not the only one who chose the wedding song in this group is wedding song was Sunrise, sunset, beautiful. And one cannot underestimate the music and the singing and the lyrics, brilliant. Whatever one may think about anything else of the Philip Roth approach, the sheer artistry of the music and the songs. And the music and the songs cannot be denied. I think they’re fantastic. They were so crafted. Okay.

Mary Gold, saw the Yiddish version, great.

Yes to answer, Robert. Thank you. Paula, thanks. Years ago, watch the Nova. Yeah, and how many refugees today? Doesn’t stop. History of the World is a history of colonisation and refugees, according to a great contemporary German playwright.

Okay, thanks, Adele. Yvonne, Mavis, right, thank you, all. Dorothy Murray. Thanks,

Robin. In Germany, in was advertised, yes. I’ve looked at some of the recent German productions as well. Fascinating. And it was called Anatevka.

Yeah, that’s it, Mel. Okay, Herschel Bernardi yup.

Okay, then Michael Benduran said, nowhere in the world is a people stateless and no country. It resonates the truth. Absolutely, Michael. Maybe this is why we always wear our hats. It’s so ironic and so poignant. It’s got all the wits the charm I mentioned and the intelligence in these individual lines that are so good about the writing.

Okay, thanks, Jeffrey, Cynthia. Did I mention, recent production New York? No, but it is the Yiddish one with subtitles, yup. For lockdown. Okay, I think that’s most.

Thank you for everyone here.

Yeah, Zero Mostel, yup. And thank you for your comments.

The family gathers are on the grave. I didn’t know about that. Thanks, Sharon. Okay. So thank you, everybody again for coming and to Lauren, Wendy, and Judy and hope everybody’s well and winning times of darkness, lechaim, to life.

• Absolutely. Lechaim to life.

• Lechaim to life.

• Oh, David.

• With my own extra theatrical exaggeration, Wendy.

• Always a joy to have you with us-

• Always.

• Always. And to all my friends, I was so happy to see Robin Woodhead on today.

• Thank you.

• Robin, I give you lots of love. And to you, David.

• Thank you, Wendy. And to you.

• Take care, everybody. Thanks for joining us. David, you had almost 13,000 devices tuned in today. So .

• Thank you so much to everybody for tuning in. Really appreciate. And to Wendy, to everybody, the team.

• Absolutely. Bye. Take care. Bye-bye.