Moscovitch - East of Berlin

EAST OF BERLIN HANNAH MOSCOVITCH Playwrights Canada Press
Toronto NOMINATED FOR: The 2009 Susan Smith Blackburn Prize The 2009 Governor Generals Literary Award for Drama The 2009 Canadian Authors Association Carol Bolt Award The 2008 Dora Mavor Moore Award for Best New Play, General Category Hannah Moscovitch [is] a young and quite irritatingly talented writer Paul Isaacs, Eye Weekly an emotional and intellectual focus that seamlessly travels across continents and about 40 years of history. Kamal Al-Solaylee, Globe and Mail a Holocaust play with a difference. Jon Kaplan, NOW Magazine those looking for real theatre, the kind that stretches your heart and your brain, will be well-rewarded. Richard Ouzounian, Toronto Star [Moscovitch is] not afraid to plunge right through areas that others might consider poor taste in order to come out the other side in search of a deeper truth. Variety important and brave work a must-see show, by any definition. Fresh Daily Theatre Review To my father, Allan Moscovitch PLAYWRIGHTS NOTES A note on the title: the word East was used by the Nazis to refer to the genocide of the Jews.

The official party line was that Jewish communities were being resettled in the East. This euphemism entered into the language of Berlin Jews during the war. The word East was used to refer to the death camps, and to go East of the city signified going to your death. A note for future productions: when I wrote the script, I sought to create the possibility for a tense relationship between Rudi and the audience. I envisioned this relationship as the most important of the play. CHARACTERS Sarah (speaks with a slight New York accent) Hermann Rudi East of Berlin was first produced by Tarragon Theatre, October 16 to November 24, 2007, with the following company: SARAH | Diana Donnelly HERMANN | Paul Dunn RUDI | Brendan Gall Directed by Alisa Palmer Set and Costume Design by Camilla Koo Lighting Design by Michael Walton Music and Sound Design by John Gzowski Stage Managed by Leigh McClymont Fight Direction by James Binkley Script Coordinated by Maureen Gualtieri Do not hold against us the sins of the fathers; may your mercy come quickly to meet us, for we are in desperate need. Psalm 79: 79 Its 1970. RUDI is in the front hallway outside his fathers study, in his family home in Asuncin, Paraguay.

He is trying to light a cigarette. Its difficult because his hands are shaking. RUDI stops trying to light the cigarette for a moment and controls himself. Then he lights his cigarette. He takes a drag. He speaks to the audience. RUDI I used to smoke, in Paraguay. Its a disgusting habit, I know.

Im returning to old habits here. Beat. I grew up here, in Paraguay. Fucking Paraguay. Beat. At the airport, the customs official had Band-Aids on his hands that were crusted over with dirt and pus.

I kept looking at them as he went through my suitcase. Also, he was smoking and the ash kept falling onto my clothes. Beat. Ive been away too long; Ive been in Germany too long, if these things disgust me. Beat.(referring to the cigarette) Thank God for I bought these at the airport and I just fucking love them. Beat. When I lived here, in Paraguay, I smoked packs and packs of cigarettes.

TheyI dont knowhelped me, somehow. Now I only smoke to mark significant events in my life. Beat. Births. Beat. Deaths. Beat. Paradigm shifts. Beat. Prodigal returns. Beat. Prodigal returns.

To countries of origin. Paraguay. Although, I wasnt actually born here. Im not Latin American; well, look at me. Beat. No.

I was born in a little hospital, in Berlin. In 1945. Right as my father was losing the war. RUDI takes a drag of his cigarette. He regards the audience. Thats right. My father lost the war, so he must be a Beat. Cigarette? Beat. I can give you a moment to take that in.

Ive spent my whole life trying to take it in, so, please. RUDI turns away, smokes.(singing) Deutschland, Deutschland, ber alles, ber alles in der Welt. (turning back to the audience) Do you want to meet him? Hes here, hes in here, in his study, if youd like to meet him? Im going to go in there, in a minute, and say hello, let him know Im here, in Paraguay, in his house, let him know Ive come home. Right after I smoke this cigarette. Beat. Hes been here since the late forties. Beat. I still dont know who provided us with the emigration papers. Beat. I still dont know who provided us with the emigration papers.

I think there was an invitation from the government of Argentina. I was ten months old at the time. I have my German passport, a picture of me as a baby and the name Otto Henrick printed on it. Who the fuck is Otto Henrick, Id really like to know. Well, or, maybe I wouldnt. Beat.

There was a very pretty little apartment in Argentina. I liked my nanny there, her tits were huge, and she was always vacuuming, I found the sound soothing. Beat. At one point a house by the sea, a beach; Chile, I think. There were these girls in theseI think they were meant to be attractive, or, at least, suggestivegrass skirts. Beat. Beat.

In Colombia, ah, now this youll like, my fathers military jacket. When we arrived in Colombia, the house was flooded, a burst pipe, I think. We left all of our packages and suitcases in the front hallway. My fathers military jacket was lying out, so I tried it on. My father caught me at it. I thought he was going to be angry with me, but he wasnt.

He kept saying, So you like my jacket! Beat. And on and on like that. A series of Latin American countries, a series of Latin American sympathizers. All financed by ODESSA. Not familiar with it? Thats the organization that helped people like my father disappear. Beat. At some point we settled down, we stayed here. In Paraguay.

But, dont imagine we tried to fit in. Oh no. In the middle of this colossal South American sewer, a small, shining German oasis. A whole expatriate community here, Third Reich refugees, Germans, Austrians, there was even a newspaper, Die Morgenpost. We had our own school, and our own beer hall, and most of the time we pretended that Hitler didnt lose. Beat. I barely spoke Spanish.

Well, no, I spoke Spanish. I did speak Spanish. I tend to exaggerate. Its another habit. I get the exaggeration and the smoking from my mother. Our house, there was always smoke drifting out of the ashtrays, and my mother would be going on and on about how the neighbours were going to hand us over to the Russians.

Or, after Eichmann, to the Israelis. Beat. What I get from my father? Well. Beat. It strikes me as stupid, even now, that I didnt realize, that I didnt put it together. That I spent so many years leading an ordinary life here. On the other hand, life seemed so ordinary. My father had his business, we were well off, big house, cars, servants.

Nothing ever struck me as Beat. Children. They have such a remarkable capacity for either accepting their circumstances, or dying. Who said that? I hope it wasnt Hitler, sometimes I quote him accidentally. Beat. I knew there was something, some part of the war that wasnt spoken about. If I asked too many questions about the war, my father shook his head at me.

But then, if I asked too many questions about Latin girls, I got the same response. Beat. And my father, himself, was so very Beat. He had a set of stock phrases he liked to repeat, such as, You know we eat dinner at seven. You know we dont walk on the lawn. He wore the same black suits. He had an incredibly methodical way of cleaning his nails.