Ronald John Vierling
m
wp8311544f.png

wp1b4741a8.png

wpb1af9bda.png

wp6f184e3b.png

THE  PLAYS
wpeee024a5.png
wpea7cb36f.png
wp3f2966a6.png
wpb526ff89.png

About the Plays

 

In August, 1969, when Ronald returned to the United States after summer study at Yad Vashem Institute, Jerusalem, Israel, his immediate ambition was to write a one-act play that would portray the struggle of a young, second-generation Jewish survivor of the Holocaust to achieve a personal identity in the face of her survivor father’s continuing and complex psychological anguish.  Little did he know as he wrote and then directed his one-act play that between 1990 and 1996 his first production would become a series of six two-act plays, divided into two volumes.  Yet that is exactly what happened.

 

Volume One: Beyond the Abyss

 

The three plays in Beyond the Abyss are all set in present-day Chicago.  While all three plays portray themes that attend the Holocaust, none of the plays is set concentration or death camps.  As sensitive as Ronald is to the subject of Nazi anti-Semitism, he does not believe it is appropriate for him to portray experiences that even survivors find almost impossible to convey.  Instead, the three plays in Beyond the Abyss portray the moral and social ramifications of the Shoah.

Thematically, because some of the major characters in the three plays are Jewish and some are not, the dramas argue that individuals who manage t o confront the moral abyss do so as a consequence of their ethical dispositions rather than their religious discipline; i.e., right-minded principles transcend any one religious system of belief just as right-minded people are not confined to any one historical time or locale.
 

Interestingly enough, as Ronald worked his way into the through the thematic requirements of each play, his theatrical techniques changed, evidenced by the numerical reduction in roles: the plays in Beyond the Abyss were written for casts as large as thirty-six and as small as five.

 

 

Adam’s Daughter

A dream play, Adam’s Daughter explores Natalie’s conflicted emotional and intellectual mindscape.  An American Jew and an actress in her mid-twenties and the daughter of a man brought to America after his liberation from Auschwitz by influential Jews who treasured his reputation as an Ashkenazi poet, Natalie is tormented by her father’s quiet but constant grief at not only losing his family in the Shoah but in losing his American wife, the mother of Natalie, who died in childbirth when Natalie was born. To further complicate her already complicated relationship with her father,   she does not learn until Adam is near death is that he also suffers from a profound sense of guilt, for while a prisoner of the German army his language abilities gave his access to lists of Jewish prisoners slated for execution.  By moving his own father’s name down the list until the older man eventually died of conditions in the camp, Adam sent other sometimes healthy men to their death.  Much of the anguish of the play, therefore, stems from Natalie’s inability to understand and/or resolve her father’s pain.
 

Growing up, Natalie is witness to the ways in which American Jews paid her father homage, tributes that too often cause her to feel that she is an observer rather than a participant in his life.  It is only years later, when she and a friend, Maggie, are raped one winter night in New York City, that Natalie finally faces up to questions about her own personal strength as she confronts the prospect of taking care of Maggie, whose emotional wounds from the violence—like Adam’s—do not heal.
 

By the end of the play, Natalie accepts that while she is surrounded by the ghosts of her father’s past, with effort—perhaps with courage—she can achieve her own “survivor’s” identity by incorporating her whole life into her on-stage art.
 

[Thirty-six speaking roles; cast size can be reduced by doubling or tripling.]

 

Common Ground

The Florida New Play of the Year, 1999-2000.

The second play in Beyond the Abyss, Common Ground begins as a play within a play and ends as a play about itself.
 

The first act takes place in a small Chicago theatre where six secondary age school girls—three of whom are Jews and three of whom are Catholics, all of whom attend the same Catholic girls’ school—are rehearsing a one-act play (“The School”), which is set in a Catholic girls’ school in Berlin, in 1938, less than a month before Kristallnacht.  During the first act of Common Ground, stresses in the young actresses’ personal relationships intrude on their ability to work together. Adding to the problem is the fact the director of “The School” refuses to acknowledge the girls’ real-life conflicts as issues that need adult attention.  The stage manager—both speaker for the Jewish actresses and the moral conscience of the audience—takes issue with the director.  Thus, the conflict between the two adult women is emblematic of the conflict that simmers and then comes to a boil among the actresses, for ironically, if the young women are to perform “The School” properly, they must internalize their roles; yet when they do that, they then experience more than just the conflict they are preparing to portray; they experience conflicts that invade their personal lives at their Chicago Catholic girls’s school as well.
 

The second act of Common Ground is a performance of “The School” which, in its historic and moral themes and psychological conflicts, raises questions about courageous and cowardly behavior.  Thus, the Common Ground audience sees the painful story of pre-World War II German Jewish and German Catholic schoolgirls trapped in a society they did not create and which they cannot change as well as evidence of the personal turmoil that shaped the acting in “The School.”  In the end, then, the audience, like the stage manager, ponders the question: does art imitate, or does life imitate art?  When the director indicates she is not concerned about what acting in “The School” did to her young actresses, the stage manager’s last lines are her angry response: “No, it wasn’t just a play!  It wasn’t just a play!”  What the audience then decides to decide is up to its individual members.
 

[Eight female speaking roles; one male speaking role (from off stage)]

 

 

Seder

 

Act one of Seder begins in 1990 with four of the five Poliker sisters, ages 59 through 67, arriving from their homes in South Africa, Chile, Scotland, and Israel, to share Seder at the Chicago home of the second eldest of the five women.  The significance of the meal is that the last time they were all together for Passover was fifty years before when they were living with their parents in Poland.  However, just as the family was sitting down to celebrate the meal on that fateful day in 1940, their Jewish village was overrun by Nazi Gestapo forces.  Fortunately, Rabbi Poliker had arranged for his daughters to be secreted away in three different directions in the hope that some of them might survive.  Tragically, the parents did not.  Thus, motivated by a desire to memorialize the father and mother and to reaffirm their relationships, the women prepare the meal.  However, just as it is about to begin, the second youngest sister, Sarah, tormented by years of pent-up anger and resentment, refuses to go on.  In an outburst, she attacks the two oldest sisters for having refused to take the two youngest sisters, Sarah and Rachael, with them into the forest.  As a result, forced the travel the Catholic underground with strangers, Sarah and Rachael lived with constant fear.  Thus, haunted by memories of dark rooms and dank cellars, as well as extraordinary sacrifices made on their behalf by Catholic nuns, she knows she cannot let go of her anger until she tells her story.  When she does, the Seder meal is ruined.

Act two begins before dawn of the next morning as, one by one, the sleepless sisters emerge from their rooms.  As they do, each of the other four women, in turn, bares her own private pain, relating what happened to her during the war.  For the audience, each story is so dreadful, each account so moving—from Ceil’s tale of helping Jews to escape to Chile, to Helene’s and Eva’s story of rape and murder and death among the Polish resistance fighters—that there is no way to judge one tale more or less horrific than any other.  Ironically, while sharing the pain each has harbored for fifty years threatens to undo them as a family, it is also only by sharing their stories that they can exorcise their pain and reunite at the Seder table, free to begin again the ritual words that acknowledge their heritage and celebrate the sisterhood and their survival.
 

[Five female roles.]

 

 

Volume Two: The Chronicles of Zion

 

While all three plays in Beyond the Abyss are set in modern-day Chicago, the three plays in The Chronicles of Zion are set in widely differing places at widely differing times.  In addition, while the casts in Beyond the Abyss varied in size, all three plays in The Chronicles of Zion were written for two person casts.  

 

 

The Attic Room

 

The Attic Room signals a change in focus from plays that portray the direct impact of the Holocaust on Jewish society to plays that portray the more indirect if no less profound impact of the Holocaust and anti-Semitism on Jewish European and Jewish and Muslim Middle Eastern culture.
 

A dream play, The Attic Room is set in a building that once housed the headquarters of the Jewish Committee in the Warsaw ghetto, but which no longer exists.  However, because dreams often times express more  than waking reality, the play enters into realms of the imagination that require that the audience accept a reality that is painful beyond words.
 

The Attic Room centers around two characters, Adam Czerniakow and Rachael Wyze.  Adam Czerniakow, a real historical person, was Chair of the Jewish Council in the Warsaw ghetto from 1939 to 1942.  A labor activist before the war, he was put in charge of administering the ghetto imposed on Poland’s Jews, a task no person could have accomplished, for in reality the Germans had determined to annihilate the Polish Jews either there in Warsaw or in the death camps to which thousands were deported.  Czerniakow eventually committed suicide, for while he could, under unimaginable duress, face deporting adults to their deaths, he simply could not do the same to the children the Nazis demanded he round up and hand over.  Thus, the “attic room” is Czerniakow’s personal hell where he pours over maps, documents, and lists that defined Jewish life in the ghetto, performing what he calls his task, an act of eternal contrition.
 

Then, without warning, a young fictional character, Rachael Wyze, interrupts his routine. An Israeli journalist whose mother escaped the Warsaw ghetto as a small child without her family, all of whom perished after her flight, Wyze, who has read Czerniakow’s diary notebooks, has come ostensibly to learn more about the difficulties Adam faced while running the ghetto.  However, in reality, she has come to confront Adam with her mother’s story.  In the process of doing so, she tells her own story as well. Thus, Rachael enters her own moral dungeon, for while serving in the Israeli army in the occupied West Bank, she was an accessory to the killing of an innocent Palestinian girl.  Only an artful cover-up kept her out of trouble until a true account of the event emerged years later. As a consequence, Rachael finally realized she was caught in a situation she could not endure: if she were honest, she would have to injure Israel; if she were to lie, she would injure Judaism.  Like Czerniakow, suicide becomes her solution.
 

As the play ends, Adam and Rachael sit across the attic room speaking to but not facing one another, surrounded by the bitter truth of moral dilemmas they cannot change.  Thus, they become powerless  if well-meaning innocents trapped by political violence they did not make and cannot change.  So all Adam can do is continue to task his maps at the same time Rachael begins to read the blood spattered Qu’ran that she took from the body of the murdered Palestinian girl.
 

[One male role; one female role.]

 

 

The Tower

 

Act One, Scene One of The Tower opens in an army command post on the West Bank in 1983.  Rella Shofar, an Israeli soldier, has been assigned to guard Fatima Aziz, a young local Palestinian, who has been detained for allegedly throwing rocks at Israeli occupying forces.  The solitary nature of the situation and the fact the young women are about the same age cause them to begin to talk to one another despite the tensions of the circumstance.  As might be expected, when they stake out their political postures ands explain their individual religious alliances they find themselves in bitter conflict.  Ironically, it is also obvious that each hears the sentiment of the other’s argument.  However, despite that one small note of hope, the scene ends with each of the young women expressing the kind of distain for the other that is part of her cultural identity.

Act One, Scene Two takes place later when the women meet again, this time by chance, at Hebrew University, Jerusalem.  Again, they are in an anteroom, but this time there is a scholarly conference going on in an effort to create a dialogue between Jews and Muslims.
 

Aziz has become a photographer for a news service that is covering the conference.  Shofar is a master’s degree candidate who advisor is participating in the meetings.  Once the young women recognize each other, they begin to argue much as they did before, albeit less confrontationally.  Rella admits she has read some of the Qu’ran since they first met.  Fatima has spent time reading parts of the Torah.  In her own way, each is trying to sort out the political and social constraints of Jewish and Muslim Israel.  Unfortunately, the scene ends on as bitter a note as did scene one, for the two young women are still prisoners of long-held prejudices.
 

Act Two, Scene Three, brings the two young women together after a three-year interval, this time in Madrid, Spain, at the International Peace Conference hosted by Spain’s King Juan Carlos in 1991.  Rella, by then a doctoral student in Torah literature at Edinburgh, Scotland, is a consultant to the Israeli delegation. Fatima, who has become an established photojournalist, begins to question Rella rather than argue, for she had read extensively in Middle Eastern history and literature since they two of them last met and argued in Jerusalem.  Despite their continuing differences, by the end of the scene the two decide to go together to visit the Catholic cathedral they can see from the window of the royal palace where the conference is being held.
 

Act Two, Scene Four take place in Dublin, Ireland, in 1994, more  than ten years after the first of Rella and Fatima’s conversations, this time atop the Martello Tower made famous in Irish author James Joyce’s novel Ulysses. At this point, Rella teaches Torah literature at Trinity University, in Dublin; Fatima is a photojournalist for a small, independent Muslim peace-movement news service working out of London.
 

As the two of them converse in what they both understand is the most unlikely of settings—and they realize their religious differences still distance them in many ways—the also share experiences that have, on one hand, freed them from many of their cultural prejudices while, on the other hand, rendered each woman less secure in the world. Thus, aware of her own religious ambivalence, Rella has invited Fatima to visit her in Dublin after seeing Fatima momentarily on English television in the midst of a press conference crowd.  What Rella learns is that Fatima has abandoned the Middle East, working in London because she was fired from her job in Syria when she circulated a photograph she took at the Madrid Peace Conference of an Israeli and a Palestinian diplomat in friendly conversation.
 

Standing on the tower overlooking Dublin Bay, far removed from the West Bank, the two exiles discuss the past and their prospects for the future.  The question the audience must ask as the end of The Tower is: have the two young women abandoned Israel/Palestine because they were finally weary after generations of rancor and violence, or have they found answers that their families simply refuse to understand?  Like the issues raised in Common Ground, the issues raised in The Tower are not answered in or by the play.  Rather, it is the audience’s obligation to decide what to decide.
 

[Two female roles.]

 

 

The Children of Moses Davar

 

Historically, there has only been one Shoah, but there have been other expulsions, other genocides.  Set in Spain in 1492 during the Inquisition, The Children of Moses Davar personalizes the devastation visited on Sephardic Jews by introducing Esther and David Davar, sister and brother, whose family is part of Madrid’s Jewish elite.
 

In Act One, Scene One David returns to Madrid after a six months’ journey to Alexandria, Egypt, where he has been managing the family’s commercial interests for his sister and himself since the death of their father.  While his sister is thrilled at his homecoming, Esther finally admits that very troubling things have been taking place; old friends do not call; the young man who had been courting her no longer visits.  Furthermore, a family friend has died under “mysterious circumstances.”  Most of all, threats from Juan de Torquemada, the Royal Confessor, are being taken seriously by Sephards of the Davars’ class, and many have converted to Christianity, however insincerely.
 

Upset by the news, an angry David details the Jews’ cultural, political, and commercial contributions to Spanish life.  His sister, who surprises David with her newly cultivated knowledge of Sephardic literature, decries the situation as well.
 

Then, in a letter Esther delivers from their grandfather, Moses Davar, David learns he has been summoned to their grandfather’s house immediately, though the hour is late.  Equally concerned, Esther determines to wait up for David to return, for their grandfather’s instructions that David should come through the family orchard and then enter Moses’s home through a side door causes both of the young people great anxiety.
 

Act One, Scene Two begins with David’s return to detail a complicated plan.  In order they escape the anticipated expulsion of the Jews from Spain, Moses Davar has arranged the unthinkable: yes, the family is preparing to leave Spain.  However, because the arrangements will take time, both Esther and David are to convert to Christianity and take Holy Orders.  David is to become the Bishop of the Church at Valencia; Esther is to enter a convent under David’s control; i.e., Davar gold has changed hands so the conversions can protect the Davar family during the time the elder Davar needs to arrange the transfer of family funds to Alexandria.
 

Horrified, Esther protests vehemently, for she had no desire to deny her Judaism.  Thus, the first act closes with David, miserable but resigned to the necessity of the scheme, trying to reassure Esther that their grandfather’s plan is their only hope.
 

Act Two, Scene Three opens with David—who was originally educated to be a Sephardic scholar—now in his role as Catholic bishop, visiting Esther’s convent as part of his official duties.  Though they cannot acknowledge each other openly, the Mother Superior has arranged for Esther to serve her brother his evening meal in a private room.  Cloaking their conversation in coded phrases, they exchange valuable political and personal information.  Esther learns that the situation for Jewish converses has worsened.  Prominent Sephards have been burned at the stake.  At the same time, Esther confesses she has found another young Jewish woman hiding in the convent with who she shares confidences.  Much to David’s consternation, Esther also admits she has found a sense of tranquility in the Catholic meditative life. Thus, while David is in conflict with the lie he is living, for he has been well received by the working people of Valencia, who find his warmth and kindness reassuring, Esther has discovered a refuge from the chaos that has enveloped Spain.
 

Act Two, Scene Four, the final scene, takes place three months later when David rushes to the convent in the middle of the night to rescue his sister, for the expulsion order has been issued.  They must flee Spain; even their elaborate cover will not keep them safe.  Sadly, Moses Davar has died, but their grandmother is to meet them at the ship they have hired to carry them to Egypt.  Confused, Esther hesitates.  She had developed a loyalty to the Catholic sisters; she feels guilty at the idea she must abandon her converso confidante.
 

In a bitter outburst at his sister’s apparent divided loyalty, David tells Esther that Columbus, an Italian Jew, has that very day set sail to chart a new route to India in the pay of the same Spanish government that is persecuting Sephards.  Esther’s protest that she has found peace in the convent angers David even more.  Only when he reminds Esther that their grandmother will fall victim to the Spanish if they do not meet her in Valencia, Esther relents.  Tragically, it is too late.  An ominous voice from offstage accuses the brother and sister of blasphemy against the Church and that they are both under arrest.  In their moment of doom, David and Esther turn first to each other and then to the ancient, comforting words of their faith:
 

                  Bar-ruch a-taw a-do-noi elo-hay nu.

 

 

                                         Blessed art thou, O Eternal, Our God, King of the Universe.

                                        Who hast made a distinction between the holy and not holy,

                                        between light and darkness, between Israel and the other nations.

                                        Baw-ruch a-taw a-do-noi elo-hay nu.

 

                                        With those last words, the stage fades to black, for all hope is lost.

                                        (One male role; one female role.  One offstage male voice role.]

                                           

                                                                                                               Joyce Davidsen

                                                                                                             B.A., University of California, Berkeley

 

 

                 Interested directors and/or producers may obtain manuscript copies of any  of the six plays, all of

                 which have been successfully staged in Central and South Florida, by contacting Ronald Vierling at

rvielring@cfl.rr.com.