Today in Jewish Berlin History

According to the blog "Today in Jewish History":

1924: In Berlin, Alexander Israel Helphand, the man who negotiated with the German’s during World War I to gain Lenin’s return to Russia from Switzerland which brought about the Communist Revolution and took Russia out of World War I passed away.

More about Weimar Berlin and Jews and Socialism could be explored in our tours on the subject.

Hans Robertson - Exhibition about a forgotten photographer

Deborah Kolben and Gal Beckerman write in "Nextbook" about Hans Robertson, a Weimar era Berlin photographer of Jewish origin:

"Robertson’s specialty was expressionist dance. And expressionist dance was huge in 1920s Germany [...] Mary Wigman, one of its main innovators, slid across the floor on her knees, eyes closed, fists clenched, performing her Witch Dance. Her school in Dresden became a center of this Ausdruckstanz, producing world-renowned modern dancers like Harald Kreutzberg and Yvonne Georgi. They all posed for Robertson. His studio on bustling Kurfürstendamm—a boulevard that was both the Fifth Avenue and the 42nd Street of Berlin—saw a steady stream of business in the late 1920s and early '30s. [...] At 28, Robertson’s first photo spread—a pictorial tour through Holland—appeared in Photographische Rundschau. But his photo career would have to wait until 1918, when he arrived in Berlin. There he joined Lili Baruch—one of the disproportionately high number of Jewish women then making her living with a Leica—who set up the studio on Kurfürstendamm, specializing in dance photography, which Robertson took over in 1928.

[....]

In 1933, following Hitler’s appointment as chancellor and the subsequent boycott of Jewish businesses, Robertson had an inkling of what was to come. He handed over the studio to his apprentice, Siegfried Enkelmann. One of the few documents Friedrich, the curator, has been able to uncover is a contract signed by Robertson that makes the transfer final, and describes Enkelmann as “reliable.” And he was. The protégé survived the war and continued photographing dancers (including Mary Wigman) until his death in 1978.

Robertson and his coquettishly beautiful wife, the actress and dancer Inger Vera Kyserlinden (born Levin), escaped to her native Denmark. While the avant-garde movement had been taking place in Berlin, Paris, and Prague, most photographers in Copenhagen were stuck in the pictorial style of the 1910s. As a result, in 1963 Robertson established the first modern photography school in Denmark. But eight years later, just before Hitler began deporting Danish Jews, the Robertsons were forced into exile again, this time fleeing to Stockholm. They returned in May of 1945 and Robertson died just five years later at the age of 67. "

A new exhibition dedicated to Robertson is now on the Berlinische Galerie. (till Feb. 2nd).

More about Weimar Berlin and Jews in West Berlin and Kudamm area could be explored in our tours on the subject.

Nelly Sachs Birthday

The blog "This Day in Jewish History" reminds us, 117 years ago today, Nelly Sachs was born:
"Birthdate of Nelly Sachs. Born in Berlin, Sachs was a German poet and dramatist who was transformed by the Nazi experience from a dilettante into a poignant spokesperson for the grief and yearnings of her fellow Jews. Sachs found sanctuary in Sweden in 1940. When, with Shmuel Yosef Agnon, she was awarded the 1966 Nobel Prize for Literature, she observed that Agnon represented Israel whereas "I represent the tragedy of the Jewish people." She passed away in 1970 and was buried in Sweden."

You can see some of Nelly Sachs' Berlin in our tours to the Jewish West Berlin and to "Jewish Switzerland"; and in the "Classic" Jewish Tour.

Interview with Jewish Writer Maxim Biller

Recommendation: The transcendental workout blog publishes an interview with Jewish-German writer Maxim Biller, about his influences ("When I was twenty, I discovered the books of Malamud, Heller, Bellow, Roth. They taught me to be free to write about my own—the Jewish—people, just as Chekhov, Camus, and Fitzgerald wrote about their people."), his style, his connection to Jewish identity, as a German-Jew.

Biller (b. 1960) iummigrated as a ten year old from the Soviet Union (via Prague) to Munich. He lives now in Berlin and his books deal mostly with contemporary Jewish-German identity.

Jewish Women in Old Berlin

Hels publishes a review about Jewish Women and their Salons:

"Jewish collectors seemed to be open to modern art, and one salon was critically important. Felicie Rosen­thal 1850-1908 married Carl Bernstein, leaving St Pet­ersburg to set up their home in Berlin. Her salon was quite into modernity and risk taking. They were known as the first to buy French Impress­ion­ist art in Germany, and hang them on their walls in the salon."

[...]

"Viennese and Berlin salons were almost all run by Jewish women. Several gen­er­at­ions of Itzigs rescued the Bachs from obscurity. So why did this 100 year period of Jewish dialogue with high culture come to a crushing end. The beginning of the C20th brought in the real end of salons in central Europe. War turmoil, new ways of spending free time like travel and mass media meant women of leisure spent their time diff­er­ently. And because political intens­ity and commitment became, by 1914, more important that polite, witty conversation."

About Jewish Women in Berlin:
See our specialised tours in the subject

Jewish Émigré and the Development of Turkey

Yakup Betkas writes in the Turkish Forum of the "German-Turk Miracle":

"Shortly after Hitler came to power in Germany in 1933, all professors of Jewish ancestry were dismissed, and Austria followed suit after its annexation by Germany. Atatürk’s government opened Turkey to these academics, offering them the best positions in Turkey’s few fledgling colleges at a time when Jews were elsewhere refused not only jobs but even visas. This intellectual influx suited Atatürk’s aims well and was particularly important to his radical program for reforming higher education on the European university model. In 1933, the old Istanbul Darülfünun was renamed Istanbul University, signifying its transformation from the “madrassa”-based system to the modern university.

In autumn that year, the first group of more than thirty professors arrived to start teaching at Istanbul University, among them pathology professor Philipp Schwartz, who, on behalf of a new organization established to help dismissed German professors find employment abroad, had negotiated an agreement with the Turkish government that was hailed as “the German-Turk miracle” (p. 9). Even Albert Einstein is believed to have been considering the Turkey option as he was waiting to hear from Princeton, which he had been told “would not hire a Jew” (pp. 318–20). Led by émigré professors, Istanbul University earned the rank of “the best German university” of the time, an official German document of 1939 describing it as having “turned Jewish” (p. 279). Indeed, the overwhelming majority of these “German professors”—as they were called in Turkey—were Jewish, although there were also a good number of non-Jewish anti-Nazi intellectuals and political dissidents, including Ernest Reuter, who became Berlin’s mayor after the war."

More about Jewish emigration from Berlin:

* Visit the Jewish Museum with our guide

* Visit "Little Istanbul" and learn more about Berlin's Immigrant Neighbourhood

Jewish Berlin Blogsphere, Dec 8, 2008

Letters from Berlin about Chabad and the Meat Mafia, in the last paragraph: "It is becoming increasingly difficult to think of myself as Jewish in religious sense. Like a lot of modern secular people, it is difficult to assess what is keeping me from admitting to atheism. Part of it must be the pride I take in Jewish accomplishments. But a careful reading-between-the-lines of the Jewish Museum in Berlin proves one thing unequivically: Jews have contributed a lot to the world since Enlightenment, but none of them were Orthodox. "

San Francicsco Exhibition about James Simon

"The State Museums of Berlin and the Legacy of James Simon," an exhibit of 150 treasures from the State Museums of Berlin, is on display at the California Palace of the Legion of Honor.

Offered as a "case study of the history of collecting during the late 19th and early 20th centuries," the exhibit is a testament to the philanthropy of Simon, the German-Jewish art patron and collector who donated thousands of works to Berlin's nine state museums before his death in 1932."

View the show from 9:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. Tuesdays-Sundays through Jan. 18 at Lincoln Park, 34th Avenue and Clement Street, S.F. Admission is $16 to $20 with a $10 surcharge included. Call 415-750-3600 or visit www.legionofhonor.org for more information.

Director Bryan Singer About Being Jewish in Berlin

Bryan Singer is a Hollywood director (The Usual Suspects, The X Men) , who is about to release "Valkyrie" a film aboutthe July 20th Plot to assassinate Hitler.

In an interview to UGO he says:
"[...] I was somewhat stressed about this during the filming, but it was nothing compared to the stress of being Jewish and shooting this movie in Berlin. The last thing I’m thinking about is what Page Six was saying, when my apartment was next to the plaza where they burned the books."

(there is also information about the film itself, although obviously Singer portrays the July 22 plotters in a very positive light, mentioning that they were opposed to the murder of Jews. That might be correct - although many of them certainly belonged to the traditionally conservative and antisemite Prussian aristocracy, but this has hardly been their motivation to assassinate Hitler, and they have done it because of the German defeat in the War).

Chabad's New Mikvah: Opening Ceremony Marred by the Mumbai Tragedy

Chabad have opened a new Mikvah in their community centre:
"The mikvah is located in the basement of the Chabad center, and,in fulfillment of the requirement for a fresh source of water, is partially fed by rain collected at the roof, said Leah Teichtal, the co-director of the center with her husband. The rabbi called his wife the “mastermind” of the project.

[...]

The guests descended a brightly lit staircase to the mikvah rooms, including one with showers and bath, and another with the turqouise-tiled pool itself, its several steps leading downward into clear, warm water that is filtered constantly.

The rabbi said the steps are there because “some women are tall, and some are, well, not so tall.” He added that the mikvah for men is not yet finished.

Mikvah users can get a manicure and pedicure, and classical music will be piped in, Leah Teichtal said." (Source: Baltimore Jewish Times)

The opening ceremony, however, was marred by the tragedy of the terrorist attack in Mumbai and the death of Rabbi Gavriel and Rivkah Holtzberg.

It should be noted, that this Mikvah is now Berlin's third, as Berlin's Jewish Community also has two Mikvahs. It is not clear if the number of Orthodox women and new brides in Berlin really justifies so many Mikvahs...

In our Jewish Tour in West Berlin, you can learn more about the two "western" Mikvahs and visit the sites of both. We can also do a tour to cover the sites of Chabad in Berlin, including where Rabbi Schneeorsohn has lived during his Berlin era.

Jewish Underground Fighter and Holocaust Surviver Tells her Story

"

In 1941, she and her sister Renata were conscripted to work in a paper factory, while their other sister made it to London.

Their parents were sent to Isbiza, near Lubin — a place where victims had to dig their own graves before undressing and being shot into them.

The sisters never saw their parents again.

“I can’t describe that feeling,” said Mrs Lasker-Wallfisch. “We were all alone. It was terrible.”

After a few months sticking labels on toilet rolls, the sisters were asked to help forge papers for French slave labourers.

Using skills writing gothic script they had learnt at school, they quickly “got into the business in a big way”, passing documents through a hole in the wall between the Jewish toilet and the factory.

“We knew it was completely crazy, but anything was better than waiting to be killed by the Gestapo,” said Mrs Lasker-Wallfisch, who found out later that one of the papers she had prepared was for English POW Eric Williams, now famous for digging tunnels out of two prison camps in Poland and Germany.

Six months later, the sisters were caught trying to escape and sent to jail – a lucky break in the inverted world of Nazi Germany as it delayed their trip to Auschwitz and later labelled them as “criminals” rather than “Jews” at the death camp.

“The conditions in the prison were terrible, but they were ten times better than the concentration camps,” she added.

“Nobody kills you there.”

They expected to be gassed immediately after finally arriving at Auschwitz in 1943, but the young cellist made herself indispensable by playing in the orchestra to soothe the nerves of the Nazis after they had sent millions of people to their deaths.

At one point she found herself playing Schumann’s Traumerei for the infamous doctor of Auschwitz, Josef Mengele, nicknamed the Angel of Death.

But nothing could prepare the sisters for what they witnessed at Bergen-Belsen, where they were sent in 1944.

“It was terrible, just unbelievable,” Mrs Lasker- Wallfisch said."

More in the Times : Music preserved her life

Pogromnacht in Berlin: Testimonials

Mitchell Bard bring an excerpt from: 48 Hours of Kristallnacht: Night of Destruction/Dawn of the Holocaust; The Lyons Press, 256 pages, 2008 on "The Cutting Edge":

"

Some of the most vivid descriptions come from Berliners who witnessed the destruction of the largest synagogue in Berlin, the Fasanenstrasse Synagogue, as well other temples in the capital. Firefighters stood and watched the Fasanenstrasse Synagogue burn. The reader of the synagogue, a man named Davidsohn, pleaded with the captain of the fire fighters to put out the fire. ‘Turn on the hoses,’ he cried to the fire chief, who stood dumbly watching the spectacle with his men. ‘Get out of here. You’ll get yourself killed,’ the captain snarled. ‘I’m afraid I can’t help. We’ve come to protect the neighboring buildings.’ ‘For the love of God, let me at least bring out the sacred objects.’

Just then there was a sound of pounding and Wolfsohn, the porter, staggered into the courtyard in bloodstained nightclothes. He had refused to surrender the keys to the sanctuary and the doors had been forced. The 78-stop organ was heaved over a balcony. The bronze candelabra was taken down and the scrolls of the Law and their appointments torn and broken. Rabbinical garments were cut to shreds and prayer books were mutilated. Then the SA and SS commandos drenched the wooden benches in petrol, and fire leapt through the building. Davidsohn vainly tried to enter. At five o’clock, when the fire had subsided to smoldering ashes, the mob began to disperse, the firemen rode off and the man who for twenty-seven years had led the community’s prayers bowed to recite the Kaddish, the prayer for the dead, before the smoking rubble.”

One of the witnesses was Selma Schiratzki. As she left her Berlin home on the morning of November 10, she saw a woman who seemed upset. When Selma asked her what was wrong, the woman answered with tears running down her face, ‘Something so horrible has happened, I can hardly tell you. Just think – all the synagogues are burning.’”

Selma lived in the western part of Berlin and used to take the train to school. “When the train passed the synagogue in Fasanenstrasse, I saw with horror the smoke rising from the ruins. Then I heard a man next to me say to his son: ‘There you can see what has happened! And remember, if I should ever find out that you have had a part in things like these, you would no longer be a son of mine.’”

When Ernest Günter Fontheim went to school he didn’t notice anything unusual. “When I entered my classroom, some of my classmates were telling horror stories of what they had seen on their way to school, like smashed store windows of Jewish-owned shops, looting mobs, and even burning synagogues. A fair number of students were absent….When our teacher, Dr. Wollheim, entered the room and closed the door, all talking stopped instantly, and there was complete silence in the class….In a tense voice Dr. Wollheim announced that school was being dismissed because our safety could not be guaranteed. This was followed by a number of instructions which he urged us to follow in every detail. Number one, we should go home directly and as fast as possible without lingering anywhere or visiting friends so that our parents would know that we are safe. Number two, we should not walk in large groups because that would attract attention and possible violence by hostile crowds. He concluded by saying that there would be no school for the foreseeable future and that we would be notified when school would reopen again.

I quickly walked back to the Tiergarten Station and decided to look out the window when the elevated train would pass the Synagogue Fasanenstrasse where I had become bar mitzvah. It was a beautiful structure built in Moorish style with three large cupolas. I literally felt my heart fall into my stomach when I saw a thick column of smoke rising out of the center cupola. There was no wind, and the column seemed to stand motionless reaching into the heavens. At that moment all rationality left me. I got off the train at the next stop and raced back the few blocks as if pulled by an irresistible force. I did not think of Dr. Wollheim’s instruction nor of any possible danger to myself. Police barricades kept a crowd of onlookers on the opposite sidewalk. Firefighters were hosing down adjacent buildings. The air was filled with the acrid smell of smoke. I was wedged in the middle of a hostile crowd, which was in an ugly mood shouting anti-Semitic slogans. I was completely hypnotized by the burning synagogue and was totally oblivious to any possible danger. I thought of the many times I had attended services there and listened to the sermons all of which had fortified my soul during the difficult years of persecution. Even almost six years of Nazi rule had not prepared me for such an experience.

Suddenly, someone shouted that a Jewish family was living on the ground floor of the apartment building across the street from the synagogue. Watching the fire, the crowd was backed against the building. Someone else shouted: ‘Let’s get them!’ Everyone turned around. Those closest surged through the building entrance. I could hear heavy blows against the apartment door.

In my imagination I pictured a frightened family hiding in a room as far as possible from the entrance door — hoping and praying that the door would withstand — and I prayed with them. I vividly remember the crashing violent noise of splintering wood followed by deadly silence, then suddenly wild cries of triumph. An elderly bald-headed man was brutally pushed through the crowd while fists rained down on him from all sides accompanied by anti-Semitic epithets. His face was bloodied. One single man in the crowd shouted: ‘How cowardly! So many against one!’

He was immediately attacked by others. After the elderly Jew had been pushed to the curb, a police car appeared mysteriously; he was put in and driven off. I left this scene of horror completely drained, incredulous, in a trance and went home….

What has remained and will forever remain in my memory is the image of the thick column of smoke standing on top of the center cupola of that beautiful synagogue and the bloodied bald head of an unknown Jew.”

More tesitimonials and stories in The Cutting Edge, or in the book. The sites mentioned in this excerpt could be integrated in the Jewish West Berlin tour, or in customised Jewish tours in Berlin.