My family with Aunty Betty (sitting second from left) in Vilna, 1928

Saturday, 6 April 2013

Third visit to Vilnius



Like a fragment of a Chagall painting the wintry Lithuanian countryside approached at breakneck speed as my flight descended on the capital city. My third trip to Vilnius was a two-day visit with the aim of recording more interview material, filming city sights and doing archival research.

Day 1

The Gediminas Tower
In the morning I walked around the centre of Vilnius filming the highlights of this beautiful city. These sites were and are dear to all the ethnic groups who lived as neighbours for hundreds of years in relative harmony. One of the most noteworthy sights is the Gediminas Tower. Once part of a medieval castle complex, the tower, an important symbol of Lithuanian identity, is perched on a hill which rises dramatically out of the city. Dina Abramowicz, the daughter of Hirsz Abramowicz, director of the Hilf Durkh Arbet institute (see "Second visit to Lithuania" for more about Hilf Durkh Arbet) wrote: "As schoolchildren we loved to climb the hill and look down at the panoramic view. Vilna was our city; we loved it and felt at home there." [1] And curiously enough, this in some way mirrors how I felt last year when I visited the Hilf Durkh Arbet building in the Subačiaus Street and looked out over the city.
The Vilnia River
I'm very grateful to my interpreter and good friend, Judita Gliauberzonaite, for taking me in the afternoon to a number of Jewish sites in the suburbs of Vilnius. First of all we went to the Sudervės Jewish cemetery, the current active Jewish cemetery, in the Šeškinė district. Within the bare concrete walls marking the perimeter lies a beautiful cemetery full of tall pine trees, squirrels and woodpeckers. It currently contains about 6,500 graves [2].
Sudervės Jewish cemetery
There one can find the mausoleum in which the remains of the Vilna Gaon, a highly-revered and widely influential rabbi of 18th Century, are kept. There is also a monument to the victims of the Vilna Ghetto. Of the 70,000 Jews of Vilna only 2,500 to 3000 survived the war, between 3 and 4 percent [3].
Monument to the victims of the ghetto
When the old cemetery at Šnipiškės (Yiddish: Shnipishok) was closed by Tsarist authorities a new cemetery was opened at Užupis in 1828. This was our next stop. Both cemeteries were destroyed by the Soviets after the Second World War. The gravestones were used to pave staircases. The monument symbolising the entrance to the Užupis cemetery is made of a number of recovered gravestones.
Monument at the entrance to the former Užupis cemetery
Lastly we visited the Bilike Hayzer (Cheap Houses), a Jewish social housing scheme of the early 20th Century. During the war these blocks of apartments were transformed into the HKP (Heeres Kraftfahrpark) factory, a repair factory for German military vehicles. Here about 3,000 prisoners from the Vilna Ghetto were put to work [4].
Bilike Hayzer flats with the monument to Major Plagge in the foreground
The commanding officer of HKP, Major Karl Plagge has been awarded the title of "Righteous Among the Nations" for his efforts to save Jews. Around 150 to 200 men, women and children managed to survive thanks to his efforts [5].

Day 2

The first part of the day was dedicated to a visit to the Lithuanian State Historical Archives on the aptly named Gerosios Vilties (Of Good Hope) Street, number 10.

Lithuanian State Historical Archives
There I very coincidentally met a man who shares the same surname as Leib Daiches, Aunty Betty's brother-in-law, albeit with a very different spelling. He explained the origins of the name, which he was researching, and it's many spellings. Leib Daiches was a tinsmith. This man explained that his father was also a tinsmith and that he worked on roofs. If he is related to Leib Daiches in any way still remains to be seen. However, he very kindly offered his help to find out more about my family. The Archives are also carrying out research for me. Of course any results will be posted on this weblog.

How wonderful it was to see the 90-year-old Fania Brancovskaja that afternoon. It was once again a privilege to interview this former partisan for a second time. The first interview (see "Second visit to Lithuania") had as main theme the forming of and life in the Vilna Ghetto. This second interview had a very different character than the first.

Fania Brancovskaja
I wanted to know more about Vilna before the Second World War. I learnt from Mrs Brancovskaja about the myriad of Jewish educational, spiritual, artistic and social welfare organisations, about specific Vilna aspects of the Yiddish language, and about the Litvak (Lithuanian Jewish) kitchen. In a one and three quarter hour interview one can only scratch the surface of these subjects, but Mrs Brancovskaja's eyes glittered as she, vivaciously and often humorously, talked about the past that clearly is so dear to her. With this documentary film I want to convey to the public at least a glimmer of the richness and complexity of the Jewish civilization that was built up in difficult times during the interbellum, against the current of history.

I took some photographs and books to the interview to show Mrs Brancovskaja. Two of the books, Dos Geystike Ponem Fun Geto (The Spiritual Face of the Ghetto) and Mentshn Fun Geto: Dertseylungen Fun Der Daytsher Okupatsye (People of the Ghetto: Stories of the German Occupation), written by Abraham Ajzen and published in 1949 and 1950, particularly interested her.

These were books that a friend of mine ordered for me from the Cyco (Central Yiddish Cultural Organisation) Bookstore and Publishing House in New York. Mrs Brancovskaja brought to my attention that the book, People of the Ghetto, was originally published during the war by the Vilna publishing house of Boris Kletzkin which continued publishing until the last years of the war. Seeing how interested she was in the books I gave them to her as a donation to the library of the Vilnius Yiddish Institute where she works as a librarian. Via a roundtrip across the globe, in a way these books had returned perhaps not to their spiritual home but without doubt to their intellectual home.

[1] The World Of My Parents: Reminiscences, Dina Abramowicz, Yivo Annual Volume 23
[2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jewish_cemeteries_of_Vilnius
[3] http://www.untilourlastbreath.com/Bart4liberationfacts.html
[4] http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/judaica/ejud_0002_0020_0_20424.html
[5] http://www.yadvashem.org/yv/en/righteous/stories/plagge.asp

Sunday, 9 December 2012

War, Peace and Svintsyan

Cover of the first edition of 
War and Peace [source: wikimedia.org]
It was on holiday this summer that I unexpectedly stumbled across a reference to Svintsyan, the shtetl (Jewish town) of my forefathers and Aunty Betty's birthplace. I was reading War and Peace when to my astonishment I came across events which took the Russian army through Svintsyan. War And Peace by Leo Tolstoy, a masterpiece of modern literature, cleverly combines the tale of three families, the Bezukhovs, the Rostovs  and the Bolkonskys, with the history of the Russian involvement in the Napoleonic wars spanning the period  from 1805 to 1812. In the summer of 1812 the Russian army was retreating  from the advancing Grande Armée through what is present-day Lithuania, then a Polish frontier region of the Russian Empire. After having retreated through Vilna, Nicholas Rostov and the rest of supreme commander Barclay de Tolly's* troops stopped in 'Sventsyani', the Russian name for Svintsyan. According to Tolstoy's account the Svintsyan encampment was one big drunken orgy: 'many complaints were made against the troops, who taking advantage of the order to collect provisions, took also horses, carriages, and carpets from the Polish proprietors'. In actual fact at least half of the 'Polish proprietors' referred to by Tolstoy were Jewish. The quiet of this tranquil rural town and it's peaceful inhabitants would have been disrupted by the debauchery of hundreds, perhaps thousands of drunken soldiers.
Following the retreating Russian army at the end of June 1812, Napoleon took the same road into the heart of Russia. Having difficulty crossing the River Kuna, he also stopped with his troops in Svintsyan. The house below, opposite the Orthodox church on Vilniaus gatvė (Vilna Street), was unfortunately not preserved. From this house Napoleon watched his troops pass by, not knowing the disaster that was to befall him and his mighty army later on in that fateful year.

*Barclay de Tolly was notably a Lithuanian nobleman of Scottish descent.

Napoleon's House [source: JewishGen.org]
The Orthodox Church still stands as a silent witness to war and peace
[source: The Aunty Betty Project]


Monday, 26 March 2012

Second visit to Lithuania

Fania Brantsovskaya

Just back from Vilnius and my second trip to Lithuania. During this trip I interviewed Fania Brantsovskaya, Vilna Ghetto survivor and former partisan. It was an honour to meet this extraordinary, energetic 89 year-old woman who, despite all she has been through, emanates an inspiring humaneness and warmth. Mrs Brantsovskaya was able to tell me about life in the Vilna Ghetto in the most incredible and often harrowing detail. She and her family lived in the same street as Feigl, Leib, Basia and Rasza Daiches during the Vilna Ghetto period (see Vilna Ghetto and Ponar). Mrs Brantsovskaya survived by escaping the Ghetto to join the Jewish partisans in the neighbouring forests. No other members of her immediate family survived. This she made clear when she showed me the photo of her family which she keeps on a cabinet in a central spot in the living room. My sincere thanks go to Judita Glauberson who did the Russian-English interpreting for this interview. 
Fania Brantsovskaya, survivor of the Vilna Ghetto and former partisan
















Svintsyan

The second highlight of the trip was a visit to Svintsyan, or Švenčionys as it is known in Lithuanian, the small town or shtetl my family came from before they moved to Vilnius. A chapter about Svintsyan will appear soon on this weblog.


Jewish cemetery in Švenčionys. 















I had read that the three synagogues of Svintsyan had been destroyed and I didn't expect to find anything regarding the rich Jewish past of this rural town 84 kilometres from the Lithuanian capital. It was therefore all the more surprising to find such a beautiful old Jewish cemetery aged by time but undisturbed by history. There were too many graves to search for the family name in the time we had but nevertheless it is a very special feeling to know that my ancestors are buried here. 

Family-related landmarks of Vilnius

As if these highlights weren't enough I also found the house that Feigl Lulinski lived in before she married Leib Daiches, number 18 Jono Basanavičiaus Street (then 16 Wielka Pohulanka Street) in Vilnius. This happens to be the same block of apartments in which the famous French writer, diplomat and WWII aviator, Romain Gary lived before he and his mother emigrated to Nice. Part of his novel 'La Promesse de l'aube' describes his childhood in Vilna. 

Plaque on 18 Jono Basanavičiaus Street in memory of Romain Gary. 

























I also found the apartment block in which Betty's brother Sydney Lubin (Zelik Lulinski) and sister-in-law Sara lived before they left Vilna, incidentally in the same year as Romain Gary, in 1923.

14 Savičiaus Street (formerly 14 Sawicza Street [unreferenced])















Sara Lulinski was a sewing teacher in the Hilf Durkh Arbet (Help Through Work) institute run by the Yiddish educator, writer and journalist, Hirsz Abramowitz. Situated on a hill overlooking the city I have come to be very fond of, the former Hilf Durkh Arbet building stands on the Subačiaus Street (formerly 19 Subocz Street).

























Mrs Brantsovskaya knew this institute well and told me that her aunt had received sewing lessons there.

A number of these details will be compiled into the chapter "Vilna, Wilno, Vilnius". So please don't forget to come back to the weblog once in a while to see how things are progressing.

Friday, 10 February 2012

Promo trailer

With the film footage I've gathered so far I've started work on a 5 minute promotional trailer. This short film will give an impression of the atmosphere, style and theme of the film. I'm really excited about this. All the more so because what started off as an idea, a dream, is starting to become a reality as I mix, cut and shape the footage to tell this story. I can't wait to share the results with you all in the coming months.

Tuesday, 6 December 2011

New York

My sister, Luisa and her boyfriend Scott are helping me out again. They're in New York at the moment filming an interview with Norman Cohen and his wife Ethel. Norman is the son of Aunty Betty's sister, Esther. Norman has a treasure of stories to tell about his parents and their generation.


Norman Cohen (photo Laurie Polli)

During the Second World War, Norman served in the American armed forces and fought in the Normandy landings.


Norman Cohen, photo taken after the liberation of in Paris, 1944

This is the second interview made for the documentary. In 2010 I interviewed Bernice Polli and her husband Laurie in Glasgow.


Bernice is the granddaughter of Annie Taylor, standing in the middle in the banner photo above. Ray Taylor, sitting second from the right in the banner photo, was Annie Taylor's daughter and Bernice's mother.





So curious to see how the footage turns out. A big thanks to all the family in New York who are making this happen!

Tuesday, 15 November 2011

Ponar Desecrated

Last July I visited the killing grounds of Ponar (see Vilna Ghetto and Ponar) to pay respects to my family members who had been murdered there by Nazis and their Lithuanian Nationalist collaborators. It was therefore with dumbfoundment, distress and anger that I read a report that this summer the site had been desecrated by anti-Semites.

In Russian: "Hitler was right"

Desecrated memorial for Jewish victims


This report was published on the site, DefendingHistory.com, edited by Dovid Katz, former Professor of Yiddish Language, Literature and Culture at the University of Vilnius and now independent researcher. Originally aimed at the Baltic region, this site attempts to combat holocaust denial, often in it's most subtle forms at all levels including government level in Eastern European countries.

Click here to see the full report

Thursday, 22 September 2011

Yiddish

Last week I started the second year of a beginner's Yiddish language course. It's a small class of enthusiasts who are all connected in at least one thing: a love for the Yiddish language, a language full of character, a language which unmistakably exudes the Jewish, Ashkenazy culture. Unbeknown to my fellow talmidim (students) it was an emotional moment for me when last year I wrote down my first Yiddish words. It was the feeling of suddenly being connected to the past, writing in the language and script of Aunty Betty and my Lithuanian Jewish ancestors. However, besides the emotional connotations there are also practical reasons for me studying what is arguably, the Chassidim aside, a dying language. Aunty Betty and her sweetheart, Joe Frank, corresponded with each other in their mother tongue, Yiddish. My Yiddish teacher has been very helpful in translating theirs and other postcards which have recently come to light amongst the possessions of recently deceased family members.

Joe Frank, South West Africa, 1930's (collection Diana Epstein)


Back of postcard shown above (apologies for the poor quality) 

Kalahari Desert S.W. Africa.
Transcription in Yiddish:
Tsum ondenkung far mayn no’enter un tayerer frayndine fun der vayter Afrika fun dayn gutn fraynd Dzshoh

English translation:
A memento for my close and dear friend from far-off Africa. From your good friend Joe.
(My sincere thanks go to Ruben Verhasselt for this translation)



By learning the language myself, though, I want to be able to decipher these kinds of documents myself. This will be useful for my further research, particularly in Vilnius, where for example many exhibits in the holocaust museum, The Green House, have only explanatory captions in Yiddish and Russian and sometimes in Hebrew.

So I'm looking forward to a new scholastic year and learning this wonderful language.