Things D0nald †rump Has Ruined For Me, Forever

the word 'tremendous'

red hats

the news

home alone 2

social media

the color orange

america, probably

 

© Barry Blitt,

 

Books by-the-month: January

T. S. Eliot was wrong when he said that "April is the cruelest month–" [he was wrong about a lot of things, like, ya know, his raging antisemitism, but, anyway, meh: a phenomenal poet] he’d clearly never experienced the nightmare that is returning to work, and the world-in-general, in January. In an election year. 

"Oh, what a long year this January has been!" I literally proclaimed yesterday. 

It's January 9th. 

Bleak times.

But with the festive season long gone, January can feel bleak and never-ending, not helped by the sidewalks lined with the corpses of Christmas trees, the days shorter and the darkness encroaching upon what feels like lunchtime, plus resolutions tugging away at your conscience? HARD PASS. So with the January blues in full swing, I offer a reprieve: an uplifting book.

I jest I jest. January is the birth month of too many of my close friends to count, including my husband. And who am I kidding I love winter coziness and any excuse for hyyge and all thing snuggling. Add a book to the picture of me + fireplace + snow outside + cup of hot something + Tatiana? Bliss. (Apologies for the wintery rant, southern hemisphere friends...)

 

In this new series Books by-the-month, I'm endeavoring to play the role of curator, assembling mini book collections across time and genre, according to themes endemic to the months on the good ol' Gregorian calendar. Holidays, yes. Seasons, sure. Themes the seasons inspire, why not? I also welcome any and all of your suggestions in the comments, friends!

 

And with that said, I give you January's mini list. Whether you’re looking to expand your mind, take up a New Year’s reading practice, or simply distract yourself from the chilly, soggy realities January has to offer, these books are sure to soothe you (at least mentally) for a day or two (plus the month or so those two days feel like... because, it's January).

 

*

January Theme: "Fresh Starts" and "Self Improvement"

 

1. Build The Life You Want by Albert C Brooks and Oprah Winfrey

On the solar calendar, January is all about the New Year's resolutions, and boy oh boy does our culture love to offer every one of us a million offers to improve. Lose the weight! Quit smoking! Save more money! Finally start therapy! Kick your weird habit! Start a juice cleanse! Have better relationships, conversations, anger management, sleep! Stop being a total jerk! 

 

The list is endless. And so is the pressure.

So my choice for this January "self improvement" category is a book of science-backed, evergreen wisdom on improving your overall HAPPINESS. And the first lesson is all about how we as a culture don't fully understand our own happiness, and how doing so can make a huge impact on how we experience the world, connect with ourselves and others, and shape a reality that brings us more peace, contentment and joy. 

 

Because apparently you can get happier. And getting there will be the adventure of your lifetime. So sayeth Oprah and author, researcher, academic and lecturer on happiness at Harvard University Arthur C Brooks. 

 

"In Build the Life You Want, Arthur C. Brooks and Oprah Winfrey invite you to begin a journey toward greater happiness no matter how challenging your circumstances. Drawing on cutting-edge science and their years of helping people translate ideas into action, they show you how to improve your life right now instead of waiting for the outside world to change.

With insight, compassion, and hope, Brooks and Winfrey reveal how the tools of emotional self-management can change your life―immediately. They recommend practical, research-based practices to build the four pillars of family, friendship, work, and faith. And along the way, they share hard-earned wisdom from their own lives and careers as well as the witness of regular people whose lives are joyful despite setbacks and hardship.

Equipped with the tools of emotional self-management and ready to build your four pillars, you can take control of your present and future rather than hoping and waiting for your circumstances to improve. Build the Life You Want is your blueprint for a better life."

I hope you are as moved by its practicality, compassion, and candor as I was. 

January Theme: Reverend Martin Luther King Junior Day

2. Several reads on Martin Luther King Junior to celebrate 

There are many ways to celebrate the life of the peerless speaker, activist, leader, man of G-d and visionary humanitarian, Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. It is being suggested by sociologists that in the 2010s-20s we are living during the second Civil Rights Movement, and where better to look to understand our present and our future, than to examine the courage of our origins. 

 

We have the gift of listening to his recorded speeches, joining in festivities, reflecting with friends and family. But of course, my favorite way to do this is to read books. Books have the capacity to create atmosphere like none other, and here are some essential reads about the man who lived up to the name of ‘King’ — the leader of America's civil rights movement.

• "Parting the Waters: America in the King Years, 1954-63" (1986),
• "Pillar of Fire: America in the King Years, 1963-1965" (1998),
• "At Canaan's Edge: America in the King Years, 1965-68" (2006)
• "The King Years: Historic Moments in the Civil Rights Movement" (2013),

 All by Taylor Branch.

The first book in Branch's multi-volume King biography, "Parting the Waters," was a winner of the Pulitzer Prize for history in 1987. The two following books were also highly praised and in 2013 he provided a single-volume overview. Totaling almost 3,000 pages, Branch's exhaustive biography provides a deep look into King's life and legacy.

In addition,
Here is a wonderful list of MLK celebration books from the always book-savvy LA Times.

January Theme: :: Deepest Winterrrrr ::

3. "Anna Karenina" by Leo Tolstoy

In 2011 I wrote books-by-the-season, and regaled you with many books for the wintry months. From the first magic of The Chronicles of Narnia to Italo Calvino's singular If on a winter's night a traveler, to the psychological thriller masterpiece that is Rebecca—I waxed on and on and stand by my choices!

Winter can make for an irresistible setting for a book (believe me I... wrote a book set... in Siberia. So). From the glass-like surface of a frozen lake to the frenetic power of a white-out squall, the dead of winter offers countless evocative and extreme conditions that conjure magic, channel psychological heartbreak and push characters to their absolute limits. But January offers the longest of nights and bitterest of cold, and thus makes perfect meteorological grist for atmosphere, making you clutch your mug of tea a little closer.

And who does any of this better? Than RUSSIAN LITERATURE. You heard me. If you are a London Still venteran you know I love allthingsRussian (just to be clear in 2025: all things arts and culture, and not politics for literally ... the last 100 years?) 

 

And while Bulgakov is my dearest love, there is no greater place to start, end, and linger along the streets of Moscow than in the heartbroken arms of Tolstoy's great heroine, Anna Karenina. 

 

[:: Sweeping orchestral swell! ::] 

Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy (1828-1910) was serialized between 1875 and 1877, and first published in book form in 1878. Tolstoy considered it his first true novel— (note that War and Peace appeared in 1869! He must've felt very strongly!) Those two novels, of course, are considered among the two greatest novels not simply of Tolstoy's, not simply of Russian Literature, but two of the greatest novel and frankly, works of art, of all time.  William Faulkner famously answered, when asked to name the three best novels, "Anna Karenina, Anna Karenina, Anna Karenina."  And Anton Chekhov reputedly said, after visiting his hero: "When you know you have achieved nothing yourself and are still achieving nothing, this is not as terrible as it might otherwise be, because Tolstoy achieves for everyone."

 

Tolstoy wrote many other (truly wonderful) short stories, and works like The Death of Ivan Ilyich (my "gateway drug" to all Russian Literature— thank you Jean Gaede by Russian Lit teacher Junior year at Interlochen Arts Academy), The Kreutzer Sonata, and Hadji Murat are also held in high esteem. Tolstoy was also a profoundly influential thinker— a radical Christian, a vegetarian (nearly a vegan), a pacifist. He was nominated for the Nobel Prize in both Literature and Peace multiple times, and it feels criminal that he never received either honor (to be fair, it was early days for the existence of the award.)

 

So thanks very much in part to my previously mentioned life-transforming Russian Literature class in high school (once again, thank you Jean Gaede), and additionally in part to a childhood best friend Arielle who married a gosh darn Russian Literature professor, I was hooked. I picked up a copy of Anna Karenina one frigid, lonely, heartbroken winter years ago, and, after owning it for less than a week, I was performing medical-grade triage on the collapsing spine of my copy. Unputdownable isn't the word. Because it far exceeds that.

With its sempiternal themes of envy, fidelity, ambition, success, power, pity, lust and the greater machinations of a "civilized" society, Anna Karenina is the perfect place to begin your Russian literary journey, for it will be an odyssey. 

 

Sure sure, I hear you moan, but what is the novel about? Well, it's roughly 350,000 words are "about" marriage and adultery, but also farming, and war, and religion (and philosophy in general), and about economics, and about the difference between life in Russia and life in Europe; and, in a large way, about how to live a life, and the time-worn question of destiny versus personal agency. It offers few answers. Just better and better questions.

The modernity of the characters is leave-you-breathless astonishing: how they all, from young Kitty, to the author's alter-ego Levin, strive for meaning; how they so often fail (as the cuckolded husband Karenin does when he confronts Anna's adultery) to put into words what they desperately yearn to express; how one society princess is "awfully, awfully bored" and laments the "same everlasting crowd doing the same everlasting things" (Tolstoy's princess is a literary antecedent of F Scott Fitzgerald's Daisy Buchanan in The Great Gatsby: "What'll we do with ourselves this afternoon … and the day after that, and the next thirty years?")

Tolstoy observed that the way to begin a novel was to "plunge readers right into the middle of the action." This is borne out in Anna Karenina: the opening chapter plunges us into themes that will be explored fully later. We learn in the first paragraph that "everything had gone wrong in the Oblonsky household. The wife had found out about her husband's relationship with their former French governess and had announced that she could not go on living in the same house with him."


Part One's most enduring scene, however, is Anna's arrival where, just after she has exchanged eye contact with Vronsky (her fatal attraction), a guard is crushed by a train: "A bad omen," she says to her brother, tears streaming down her face. As readers, we know she is doomed. And we are hopelessly hooked.

A little note on translations, while we are here.

In translating literature from one language to another in general, it is important to convey not only the literal meaning of the story, but the culture, dialogue, thought flow, and essence of the characters being conveyed in a way that makes literal and emotional sense to the reader who experiences the world through the lens of another language.

Because Russia holds such an extra layer of foreign mystery to Westerners, cultural conveyance is of even more import.

Russians (and of course, subsequently, their language) are very direct in their everyday conversations. They say exactly what is needed, often coming across as harsh or rude to the smiley, overly polite English-speaking world that values socially manicured manners and friendlyness above all else. 

 

 

So who does this best? The contemporary husband and wife team of Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky are considered by many scholars to be the gold standard of Russian Literature in English translation. Not only in the prose (which is *ga ga ga gorgeous*) but crucially, in the dialogue. Also crucial is the footnotes. Their footnotes explain EVERYTHING you could ever want to know about what you are reading in a comprehensive but concise way. 

[Two little] CONS:
The bummer about many of Penguin Classics editions (that Pevar and Volokhonsky publish with)? --
1. the font is so tiny you could totally get an ocular migraine.
2. The covers...? The American covers anyway are ...  not inspired. And the saying be hang, judging a book by its cover is fine be me because book covers matter.

The Talkback: Part 2

This piece is a more detailed account of a specific negative talk-back that occurred, and is continuation from more universal theatre talk back experiences. For those thoughts, Part 1: is HERE.

Helpful background

 

Now, as for what happened tonight after The Merchant of Venice. The producers advertised this particular evening as "Pride Night—" and welcomed the audience to stay to discuss the themes of "Othering" in society, the play itself and in our production. 

 

For those who may not be familiar with the piece, a quick background: 

The Merchant of Venice is a play written around 1594 by William Shakespeare and listed as a "comedy." The play centers around three main protagonists who are all "Others" in the hetero-normative, Christian, male society of Venice: Antonio is a queer man, Portia is a woman, and Shylock is a Jew. The play has long been considered extremely controversial for the portrayal and ultimate fate of it's "comic villain" Shylock-- who goes after the Christian Antonio (whom he despises for his blatant bigotry of Jews) in court when he fails to meet their iron-clad money-lending agreement promising that should Antonio fail to meet the terms, Shylock may exact "a pound of flesh" from Antonio, ostensibly killing him (for he has Antonio's heart in mind). 

Yet, despite Shylock's legal "correctness," Portia—dressed as a man and serving as the loophole-finding lawyer for the case—Antonio is spared, and ultimately stripped of his property and life, only to be saved in the end if he agrees to give up all his worldly goods and, of course, be converted to Christianity. 

 

My take: Honestly? It is a play about some rather horrible people doing some truly horrible things. And along the way there are some great laughs, fun subplots, and some of Shakespeare's most iconic and beautiful poetry and prose.  

 

In short: it's complicated.

Our Production

Now MoV has much more than Jewish themes— it also has the othering of women and LGBTQ+ people. Not to mention the total lambasting of countless nationalities and cultures in the smaller parts of the original text. 

Our production—for better or for worse, not my call—eliminated the queer themes utterly, which I felt was a missed opportunity. It also largely diminished my role as Portia and did little to illuminate her lack of agency, her blinding intelligence, her loneliness and really any redeemable part of her humanity. (I hear you asking and yes, sure: it wasn't my favorite take on this play, and not my favorite acting experience, but I'm not in charge. That's the deal we sign as actors! Sometimes an actor has to trust, commit fully to a director's vision as an instrument of and extension of their artistic expression and suppress one's own preconceived notions and ideas. That's the gig. And globally: I applaud anyone for taking a bold "swing" and really trying something). 

 

With these two arms of the triumvirate diminished, our production did, however, focus almost exclusively on Shylock: on ancient and contemporary Antisemitic tropes, on the way we treated Jews then, and continue to today.

Tonight

After the show, we sit down, a moderator is present and highly qualified to speak on the subject of the evening, but does not have journalistic credits. They do not set any ground rules, they do not create a "container" for how this is going to go. I am immediately concerned because the subject matter is so intense, and it is obvious that audience members are experiencing high emotions.

 

An older man took up an enormous amount of airtime speaking for over 5 minutes about his background as a Eastern European Jewish immigrant, then proceeded to express his "disappointment and outrage" at our production. He used inflammatory language. He was clearly angry and directing a great deal of his anger in my direction.

 

I interrupted him (as politely as possible) in minute 5, noting that no one else—not the moderator nor the producer—was putting an end to a speech that was clearly going off course. I stated calmly that I "didn't hear a question." He replied, impassioned: 

 

"How can you do this?"  

It went downhill quickly from there. 

 

I won't get in to the minutia of his words, I will ask you to trust that this was not a conversation, and his comments and his tone were inappropriate.  His feelings are of course, valid, but there is an appropriate  audience, time, place and manner in which to express them.  And my feelings were valid: it was perfectly reasonable to become defensive when asked—as an actor—to personally "defend" a production I did not direct or produce.

 

It needed to be shut down long before it was dealt with. And there was no need for it to ever arrive at such a confrontational place to begin with, had infrastructure been in place.

 

I will own my part: I became defensive, in my fear and anger I "puffed:" I rattled off facts, figures and basically barfed the encyclopedia at on onto these men— to prove something. My intelligence, my worthiness of respect; to show that they had underestimated and belittled me? I don't know exactly. I'm still figuring it out in the aftermath. I was also defending myself because I felt unsafe! No one was stepping in and meaningfully coming to our aid! I was terrified that there was no infrastructure in place from our moderator or producers to help the exposed actors navigate this moment. As the conflict escalated, both ushers and audience members left. 

But where the conversation turned ugly for me was when this man, and another older man sitting beside him (also outraged) vociferously attempted to "teach" me—not the men—about Jewish history. They spoke directly to me, looked me in the eyes and used demeaning language to do so. I believe used tone and language that insinuated that I was too young, too goyishe, and too female to possibly understand the nuances of 5000 years of Jew-hatred.

So, allow me to be clear, gentlemen:

1. I am Jewish.

I understand that I may not "look Jewish" you.
Your assumption of my exclusion says more about you than it does about me.

2. Yes, I am a woman. 

I understand that 10 minutes ago, I was dressed in nothing more than a pink bikini (and looking ravishing-by the way) and that possibly leads you to believe that I am an intellectual lightweight whose beauty is her only asset. But my attractive, apparently "youthful," hyper feminine woman-ness makes me NO less capable of academic rigor, dramaturgy, context, nuance, curiosity, or for a deep and secure grasp upon my Peoples' history, Theatrical history and of history itself.
 

Just because I am a beautiful woman does not mean I am a stupid one.

Do not assume that you "must" "TEACH ME" anything. (Yes, sir, I am speaking to you who felt it necessary to teach me about The Rothschilds in front of an audience.)

3. Censorship is a society-killer. 

Also? Yes, this play is officially a "comedy" and yes, it is problematic. But to quote Professor James Shapiro author of "Shakespeare and The Jews"

“I have tried to show that much of the play's vitality can be attributed to the ways in which it scrapes against a bedrock of beliefs about the racial, national, sexual, and religious difference of others. I can think of no other literary work that does so as unrelentingly and as honestly. To avert our gaze from what the play reveals about the relationship between cultural myths and peoples' identities will not make irrational and exclusionary attitudes disappear. Indeed, these darker impulses remain so elusive, so hard to identify in the normal course of things, that only in instances like productions of this play do we get to glimpse these cultural fault lines. This is why censoring the play is always more dangerous than staging it.”

In essence: we must be willing to see.
Censorship in art achieves nothing.

 

4. Producers and Moderators, please protect your actors and creatives. 

This is a professional engagement. We might love our work, but a labor of love is still labor. And our time, safety and dignity should be respected by implementing safeguards before and during audience engagements. It is respectful. To all.

5. Never assume: onstage and off. 

Finally, this talk-back revealed through it's "failure" precisely the reason we were gathered:
The assumptions we make about Others based on a myriad of preconceived beliefs, prejudices and assumptions. I—like millions—exist at the cross-section of many identities. None of them should be questioned, tested, proven, explained or even educated-about against my consent. Particularly in a public forum.

We are, all of us, capable of prejudice, bigotry, rage and hatred.

Equally, we are, all of us, capable of great compassion, empathy, curiosity and courage.
I welcome you to—whenever possible- align yourself with the latter.

Take care of yourselves, your communities and one another.
And to all a good night.

The Talkback: Part 1

Me V. Outraged Guy

Just left a horrendous talk-back held after the show Off Broadway down at Classic Stage working on The Merchant of Venice.  I wanted to take this opportunity to comment on a few of the subjects that came up in this particularly activating evening. 

 

1. Etiquette

There is a proper and improper way to engage with artists, (and I propose that audiences and theatre producers would be wise to hear our experiences.)

 

2. Be Responsible for Yourself

We must take responsibility for the energy we bring into any room, conversation and/or encounter. 

3. Sometimes Things Get Tough

The Merchant of Venice is a complicated play that brings up a tsunami of unprocessed emotions for many, (particularly when the political landscape exacerbates them.)

 

 

So before I dig in, here are a few PSAs to say off the bat: 

This has been an already difficult week/month/year at work, and this blog has never been a place where I drag, name and shame, or gossip, so I won't start now. Suffice it to say: it was. I'm learning a lot. I'm grateful for the lessons.

 

The Merchant of Venice is a very confrontational piece of theatre that brings up a lot of feelings for people, regardless of the production. 

The theatre-going audience must know that there is a proper and improper way to engage with artists, and producers and even managers need to know that those rules must be communicated clearly by them when they allow audiences to engage with artists. 

We do not allow audiences to enter the orchestra and start playing the priceless instruments.
We don’t allow them to walk around or climb on the sets.
Audiences do not try on costumes, or mess with the sound or lighting boards. 

And yet, over and over again they are permitted and even encouraged to assume authority over the actors and their art. The more we allow these mores to persist, the more respect and courtesy will break down on both sides of the footlights.

 

These observations are ones I have collected over nearly 20 years in show business; they are not exclusive to MoV, though this was a particularly repugnant example of a talk-back gone awry for reasons I am happy to articulate, many of which are entirely universal:

 

1. This talk-back—for the creatives—is voluntary and unpaid. 

If you ever attend a talk back post show, no matter your opinion of the work or the piece, keep in mind that actors and creatives giving of their time after work is "extra," and you are not "owed" anything beyond the show you just witnessed. 

 

2. Respect the labor. 

Actors (in particular) have just done something incredibly vulnerable — we've bared our souls to the public in the name of art and social reflection, and one would be wise to take care with how you address and comment upon every aspect of the work. Creatives are human beings with intelligence, life experience and feelings. 

3. Focus on questions. 

That means phrases between 1-3 sentences that ALWAYS end with a question mark. A talk-back is not the time to give the actors or creatives a review, unburden your personal history, pain, or outrage. A talk-back, is, at its core, a Question and Answer session. It is not an opportunity for you to unload or unleash your unprocessed thoughts and emotions. In the age of social media where everyone's opinion (however unqualified or biased) is given similar credence, sometimes we can falsely assume that our sharing our opinions and reviews are legitimate and welcome. Questions, always welcome. Within reason, bring me to...

 

4. Actors and Creatives may decline to answer. 

Actors and creatives always have a right to decline to answer questions or comments that make them uncomfortable or are inappropriate. That includes questions or comments about their personal lives, as well as questions regarding defense of their roles or the production. Actors are only a PART of a production.  Further, actors and creatives take jobs for many reasons, and can't always "speak to" let alone "defend" every aspect of a production — not that that is owed to you anyway. 

 

If you ask a question in a respectful way, it is acceptable to ask a director to offer their ideas/visions for the production, but please decline to review it or offer your opinion unless expressly engaged to do so. 

 

5. Be mindful of the space you occupy and share "airtime" with everyone. 

If you MUST offer a comment, keep it extremely brief, and be mindful that the people on stage owe you no explanations and are human beings with intelligence, life experience and feelings. 

 

6. There should always be an experienced moderator  

An experienced moderator should always be present to set ground rules and keep the conversation respectful, safe, and engaging for all. In an ideal scenario this should be a trained interviewer with journalistic training, preferably with expertise in the arts or the subject the piece of theatre addresses. A producer serving as moderator, or a person with experience in the topic, but not experienced managing Q&As, is not an acceptable or safe situation to put your Actors or Creatives in. Without a professional managing this process, it can be dangerous. The role of a professional moderator is akin to an intimacy coordinator’s. There must be professional representation when intimate contact is required.

*

A Very Personal Statement on Roe v. Wade

My name is Alexandra Silber.
And a legal right to safe abortions—as safe and accessible healthcare— is a very personal issue for me.

Now it is not just personal to me because I have a uterus, identify as a woman and am currently in child bearing years. It is not just because I support all oppressed people, everywhere.

But it is because in 2001, at the age of  18 — I had on abortion in the state of Michigan. I had become pregnant against many birth-control odds, with a committed, and incredibly loving partner I was with throughout high school through college.

This termination took place just 7 weeks after my father had died of cancer, at an incredibly precarious time in my life and the state of the world. Not one human—including if not especially the unborn—would have benefited from that birth taking place. Despite doing “so much right” in the safe sex department, the birth would have destroyed the lives of many, including my own.

Do you wanna ask me what it feels like to be a statistic?
Do you want to hand me a religious, political, or reductive high and mighty take on an 18 year old grieving girl’s  humanity?

You wouldn’t be the first.
To assume, accuse, or to call me a murderer to my face.


If Roe V Wade is overturned the incredibly correct choice for me, my partner, the unborn and both our families, that I made in 2001 at the age of *18* would be—according to polling data—an utterly illegal and criminally punishable act in the state of Michigan. If I had survived an “underground” procedure, I’d be imprisoned for it.

Look:
I am a white-passing person with on again off again access to decent American healthcare. In 2001, I had friends and connections that might have funded my ability to fly to another state to have the procedure done safely and legally. But the MAJORITY of Americans are not in that position. Abortion will never stop happening, it will stop happening safely. More people will be impoverished, hungry, disenfranchised, and of course DEAD because the government is threatening to make a decision that has held as “precedent” for 50 years.

I am currently 38 years old. I’m a “successful” self employed Millennial whose generation has been struck down a few times by the 2008 recession, the 2020 pandemic—my generation isn’t lazy or irresponsible, irrevocably woke or lacking in a concept of hard work. I now possess the maturity and wherewithal to raise a child— but I STILL don’t feel I dependably have the means to properly provide for that child is so precarious a country. But above all— NO ONE should ever have to be pregnant who does not want to be pregnant.

Our culture has hated and oppressed women since the dawn of time.
This is an attack on women. Yes.
But in a broader sense it is an attack on any human being who is not a white, Christian, cis-gendered male in a typical nuclear family Model.

I am angry. And I am terrified.
And if you are too — I’m with you.

I do not publicly talk about this because I’ve always considered the decision and chapter to be private, and honestly I’ve felt extraordinary terror about sharing this information for the violence it might —as HAS— inflicted upon me when it is brought up. But privacy doesn’t exist in a country where the government is inside our bodies.

Perhaps in sharing this, perhaps in giving a human face to what for many feels like a theoretical issue, Someone out there might PAUSE, think, feel, and acknowledge that I am someone’s daughter, sister, aunt, friend, colleague and neighbor. I’m a person you might not think this issue has affected, but it has. Profoundly. I am you. I am your loved one.  And it is hard to hate up-close.

Take a look at me:
I could be someone you know.
I am only here today making any kind of difference because I was able to make a choice SAFELY and therefore did not die or end up in prison for making a medical decision about my own body.

I am here today doing everything in my power to make the world a better place because the life I chose was the only life I COULD choose.

March. Write. Call. Donate.
And for the sake of all the women and womb-having siblings you care about: vote.

Thank you.

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Stop Asian Hate: a Letter to my husband and Chinese-American family

 Dearest Silver Family,

I wanted to send you all a virtual embrace about this recent wave of Asian violence and hatred. No matter the level of personal endangerment you do or do not feel on a daily basis, it is always horrifying to see and experience hatred toward *your existence* perpetuated. I just wanted to utter it; to acknowledge it as horrendous, and to honor you as Asian human beings who deserve every respect and dignity. 

I feel like all hatred shares a roots of Fear. Which I say because I experience inner rattlings all the time with a constant, still-quite-bad, 4000 year old wave of Anti-Semitism. I wonder if you feel this next sensation too: that the prejudice is “always there,” and then, every once in a while (like the last few weeks) a series of horrendous events occur that make it WORSE and you’re reminded “Oh yeah... people still hate me. And...that....is terrifying...” 

I am not the greatest revolutionary in a traditional sense. I’m not one to burn down buildings and fight hatred with anger. I’ve felt guilty about it for years. I’m quicker to weep than to rage. I’ve often felt that meant I didn’t have a recognizable place in fighting oppression— as if I weren’t “built” to be the “correct” kind of change-maker. 

But for what it is worth, in my experience of fighting evils, I have found that I do have a place! In addition to decrying Anti-Semitism, I can participate in “PRO-Semitism!” Which is a clunky term, but meaning: being a super proud, visible, relatable, and enthusiastic Jewish person, sharing the beauty of everyday progressive Jewish life through my very own proud lens. And that feels good, and gets me excited, and resonates as true to and for me. 

That’s not unsolicited advice, by the way— it is more of a direct affirmation of what each of you already do: SHARE THE JOYS of your cultural reality in every breath you take! And I’m here to declare: that is revolutionary, I think. Well anyway...that’s just my 2 cents. 

The most important message of this email is a huge embrace to each of you today and always. I am so proud to be a part of this Chinese and American family, and bring a little matzah to the dim sum tea room.

All my love 

Al

Look for Kindness

This has been an excruciating week.

As we move through these final Days of Awe between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, may we embrace Quiet and pause often. Inside the loud and raging modern world, may we hold that rage but balance it with the noticing of simple joys, embracing natural beauty and the micro generosities gifted to us. May we look for opportunities for kindness and connection.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
 
And, where there is pain; where there is death and anguish and injustice and rage—let us be courageous in humbling ourselves. Be brave in asking for forgiveness, and gracious and expansive in our willingness *to* forgive. Forgiveness sets the forgivER, free.

The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.

The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.

We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.

It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.

At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.

Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.

This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.

Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.

We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.

At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.

Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.

— from ‘Perhaps the World Ends Here’ by Joy Harjo

Election, 2020

 Thank actual G-d.

"From the ashes we rise..."

    On March 13, 2020, during this very painful, confusing, and uncertain era of our human existence, Rebecca Taichman's original production of Paula Vogel's ''Indecent'' played its first of only two previews at the Menier Chocolate Factory in Southeast London.   

    For those of you who may not know, the Menier Chocolate Factory has become a beacon of theatre around the English-speaking world, championing new works, while producing and very often transferring their production to the West End, Broadway and beyond.

    Previews came after a period of extensive, detailed, emotional, and spiritually grueling work on the part of our extraordinary company and creative team (particular shout out to the associates who taught us everything, Ashely Monroe and Sara Gibbons). It also came 30 minutes after the news of the monthlong closing of the Broadway theater community.   

    Within moments, so many of my New York colleagues were out of a job. For quite a while. In London, we knew it was only a matter of hours before the lockdown came for us too. That night my heart surged with ache for our ravaged community that's very existence relies upon its live-ness.  

*

   

One of the great joys of Taichman's production is the half-hour pre-show where the entire company sits in stillness and watches the audience enter the space. 

We watched and bore witness, with tears in our eyes that we could not wipe, as the audience of 175 people slowly filled the seats in an act of wartime solidarity and need.   

The people with us on those two nights fought to be there, wore masks, sprayed down their seats.    

They needed it.   

Escape. 

Storytelling.   

The healing power of theatrical communion that, from the very beginning of its Greek origins was designed for shared catharsis, rivaled only perhaps by formal spirituality found in churches.   

For many, the theater is that very place of worship.  

It certainly was those two precious nights.   

And just like the players in the attic of ''Indecent'', with no clear idea what tomorrow may bring, we all decided to do a little play. For the "few souls" who braved coming. And it was glorious. 

*

At the end of ''Indecent'', there is a scene where two lovers, Rifkele (Molly Osborne) and Manke (me) dance passionately in the rain. It is a scene taken from Sholem Ash's ''God of Vengeance'', the play on which ''Indecent'' is inspired. 

As the sensation of the freeing-cold rain washed over us, I felt a rush of gratitude and joy. We were surrounded by waves of love, support and joy from our friends and colleagues. Moments this sacred are rare in the theater, and it was my honor to serve.  

On a personal level, only 11 weeks ago I had an adult Bat Mitzvah, and emerged in the ritual mikveh. This "rain water" felt as spiritual, as holy, and as cleansing. I felt certain I was the most fortunate woman on earth to tell this story — particular beside the dream that is Molly Osborne.  

Molly and I wept. We honored all of our actor predecessors (many of whom are good friends), and above all, the real-life people we represent that can no longer speak for themselves.  

The Rain Scene: Before...and After

*

    An hour or so after the preview performance came down, a longtime student, protege and now friend of mine, Allison, wrote to me and asked how it had gone. Allison Beauregard is a beautiful young artist: powerful, deep, intelligent, fiercely brave and, incidentally, a Queer woman. Indecent means everything to her, and I was stepping into what is a dream role and experience, and sharing the experience with her has been profound for both of us.

With her permission, I share our exchange:

Allison:
    What was it LIKE?

Alexandra:When you are a very young person
Who dreams of what being in the theatre could possibly feel like
And you dream and hope?
……..It felt like that.

36 hours later? She sent this:

Allison: I’m SO sorry to see your show’s postponement notice, Al.

Alexandra: For a moment — I got it. I had it.

*

    I have always felt as though our theatrical creations do, truly, live. Somewhere. We take a knife to the folds of the Universe and discover that Ophelia lives in this fold, Nora in another. Willy Loman, Iago, Mrs. Lovett, Electra, Julie Jordan, Anna, and the King? They take off from their creators, and go forth, belonging ever-more to the Universe at large.

     And by that logic, so too do Rifkele and Manke. Somewhere in some universe, they are always dancing together, falling in love, in the rain. Forever. 

*

I know so many of us are terrified.

But what I learned from sharing our story that first preview? The theatre and the human spirit are both inextricably linked and inextinguishable— and, to quote Paula Vogel from her very own Indecent:

    “The play belongs to the people who labor in it, and the people who set aside time to be there in person.”


Please dear theatre-makers and lovers—take heart.
From the ashes, we WILL, all, rise.