Wednesday, August 21, 2002

Good For The Jews

I’m really glad that time of year is over: the time when He went into Jerusalem, when He was tried, and when too many people still believe my ancestors had Him crucified. (The old Lenny Bruce routine keeps playing in my head: “I admit it. It was my family. I found a note in the basement saying, ‘We did it,’ signed Uncle Morty.”)
In America, it’s hardly mentioned at all. It’s just a quiet little undercurrent, barely perceptible. Times they have a’ changed.
But not in England where I spend a lot of time. And certainly not at that bastion of serious entertainment, the English National Opera.
I’ve just returned astonished by a performance of Bach’s St. John’s Passion. Not from the glories of the music, which are numerous, or the physical production, which was terrific, but by the portrayal of the Jews, who, in this version are a particularly vengeful, hateful mob dressed in clearly contemporary clothes and shouting “Crucify! Crucify!”
This anti-Semitic staging ran through the entire piece. At the final curtain, there were no cries of outraged indignation, no screams to call the B’nai Brith Anti-Defamation League, no boos and hisses. Just heartfelt applause from the grateful audience.
In this day of political correctness, the Jewish choir being so clearly and joyously portrayed as the Christ killing-villains was a shock. In a nice opera house? Was the audience blind? Insensitive? Or simply so accepting of the stereotype that it was merely Easter as usual.
This was the first time I’ve heard the piece in English, not in its original German. Having the anti-Semitic epitaphs sung in my native language intensified my emotions. When over a hundred performers bellowed sarcastically, “We hail Thee, King of the Jews!” coupled with the spitting, cursing, and venomous expressions, it all felt so hateful. And hurtful. Reading the Gospel is one thing, but hearing it sung full-out felt so much more intense, which is, of course, the entire point of taking a text and turning it into a musical work. But at what price?
After the performance, I asked my companion if he felt anything strange about the portrayal of the Jews. He said very innocently, “Oh no. That’s the story. We’ve been listening to it since childhood.” And people wonder why synagogues are still being desecrated.
Over the years, I’ve always felt that being too PC was almost reverse discrimination. I’d hear myself screaming at the TV when a politician was clearly going over the top, “Com’on. Get off it!” But that was before I saw and heard Bach’s English-singing Jews. Maybe being too PC is a good thing.
I’ve seen many productions of The Merchant of Venice. They never bothered me. The old biblical movies never bothered me. This production did and I believe it encourages and dignifies anti-Semitism. Go ahead; call me too politically correct.
Of course, the rebuttal is clear: “It’s the Gospel; it’s Bach.” I know all that. I also know the original opening of Showboat began with “Niggers all work on the Mississippi.” In subsequent versions, it was smoothed out to “Darkies.” The current version of the score starts with “Here we all work on the Mississippi.” Although the black folk are still “totin’ dat barge,” it’s obviously better. (Although there were still plenty of protests at the recent revival.)
There were similar references in Porgy and Bess. No more. They have been totally excised from the score and playing versions.
Do you change great art to be politically correct? (Is this akin to painting fig leaves over masterpieces to conform to the mores of the times?) Do I advocate deleting the references to the Jews in Bach’s work? I don’t know. What would be more palatable? Is there a nice euphemistic way of saying, “Jews?” Hebrews? The Mob? You guys? Would that fix anything?
Of course not. Anti-Semitism would still exist. Racism would still exist. Bigotry would still exist. Would the power of the piece be diminished? Would it feel less Biblically accurate? (As if Biblical accuracy is even a possibility!)
As a writer, I’m particularly sensitive to any form of censorship. It’s ridiculous to ban the piece (and certainly the audience had no problems with it.) Should we not stage it and only do it in its original form? Or only perform it in German so this overly sensitive American is not offended? Should there be a program-warning saying this Passion may offend certain minorities? These are all ridiculous solutions. I don’t have a good one.
Living in America and especially being from New York City, I guess I’ve always been insolated from any type of anti-Semitic theatre. This production could never be contemplated by a New York Opera house let alone produced. I’m certain there would be a public outcry.
So, it was a strange and terrifying experience seeing the audience complacently sit there and not even notice that a horrible stereotype was being perpetuated.
The person I went with said I over-reacted; it was only an Oratorio. It happens every year. The music is beautiful. He said it wasn’t even worth writing about.
And yet.
I can picture my grandfather, a devout music lover who listened religiously to the Met Broadcasts every Saturday, walking out of the Coliseum shaking his head saying, “This is not good for the Jews.”

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