{"id":2311,"date":"2024-12-12T13:11:38","date_gmt":"2024-12-12T19:11:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/uwm.edu\/yiddish-stage\/?p=2311"},"modified":"2025-01-19T17:19:14","modified_gmt":"2025-01-19T23:19:14","slug":"bertha-kalich-kalish-my-life-an-autobiography-pt-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/uwm.edu\/yiddish-stage\/bertha-kalich-kalish-my-life-an-autobiography-pt-1\/","title":{"rendered":"Bertha Kalich [Kalish], My Life: An Autobiography, pt. I"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Published in Der tog<\/em> (the day) \u2013 March 7-Nov. 14, 1925<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Translated by Amanda (Miryem-Khaye) Seigel<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

BERTHA KALICH (1874-1939) was a renowned actress on the Yiddish and English language stage. Born in Lviv, Ukraine, she began her career as a chorus girl in the Skarbek Polish theatre, becoming an early prima donna in Gimpel\u2019s Theatre and performing throughout eastern Europe, including at the Jignitsa Yiddish theatre in Bucharest. Brought to America by manager\/impresario Joseph Edelstein, she became a prominent actress on the New York Yiddish stage. Though a skilled singer, she preferred serious drama to operettas and musical melodramas, and advocated for better quality Yiddish plays and higher artistic standards. Kalich was among the first to perform works by Jacob Gordin, a pioneering playwright who introduced realism to the Yiddish stage. She was also the first Yiddish actress to achieve major crossover success on the English-language stage. She wrote a serialized memoir, \u201cMayn leben\u201d [My life] with journalist Tsvi-Hirsh Rubinshteyn, published in the New York Yiddish daily, <\/em>Der tog<\/em><\/a>, from March 7-November 14, 1925. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Previous excerpts from her translated memoir appear on the Digital Yiddish Theatre Project website:<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA day that tortured my body and tormented my soul\u201d: Bertha Kalich\u2019s Kol Nidre in Bucharest<\/em><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI would have run away, but there was only one path for me \u2013 onto the stage\u201d: Bertha Kalich at the Romanian National Theatre, Part I<\/em><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u200b\u201cI would have run away, but there was only one path for me \u2013 onto the stage\u201d: Bertha Kalich at the Romanian National Theatre, Part II<\/em><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

PART 1: CHILDHOOD <\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Translator\u2019s note: Bertha  grew up in a traditional, modest Jewish home in Lviv as the longed-for and indulged only child of Babette (Bashe) Halber Kalich, a fancy seamstress, and Zalmen Kalich, owner of a brush factory. Somewhat unusually, her parents supported her stage dreams, despite the financial obstacles.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Saturday, March 7, 1925<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mom-and-dad troubles<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSha, be quiet!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From all sides, heads turned toward a table in the middle of a garden theatre on Jagellonska Street in Lviv and looked angrily at a little girl with dark, sparkling little eyes, who in the very middle of the third act of Goldfaden\u2019s Kishef-makherin<\/em> [The sorceress], burst out with a cry and wanted to go onstage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI can sing, too!\u201d sobbed the little girl and stamped her feet…[The audience] soon began grumbling in earnest, and her embarrassed parents had to take their stubborn and spoiled child home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That very girl, as you can probably see for yourself, was me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
J\u0119drzej\u00f3w. Cheder, Jewish school for boys, 1915. Wikimedia Commons.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

March 14, 1925<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I don\u2019t wanna go to school<\/strong>1<\/a><\/sup><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was born ten years after my parents got married. I was their only daughter and their only child. My mother was the only daughter and the only child of her mother, and my Lillian is the only daughter of an only child.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The entire family thought only of me. All day they talked about Beylkele, as though nothing else in the world existed…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And as though out of spite, I was actually quite a mischievous child. I could jump better than them, play a trick; I was the greatest troublemaker.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not allowed\u201d\u2014I heard the same words from all sides. If it wasn\u2019t my mother, it was the nanny, and if it wasn\u2019t the nanny, it was my grandmother…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My grandmother, may she have a radiant paradise, was\u2014how should I say it?\u2014a kind of \u201cMirele Efros\u201d2<\/a><\/sup> in our family. Everyone trembled before her, and everyone loved her. Her strong character made her the boss of everyone and everything, her word was law. She ruled with the strength of her strong will and with the power of her healthy mind… <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was at her request that I used to go with my father and grandfather Friday nights and Saturdays to the synagogue. …Those Sabbaths and holidays were wonderful, just wonderful, for me. In my house the Queen of Sabbath reposed. The sun shone festively. Every corner of my home was filled with love for me. Everyone\u2019s eyes laughed and beamed when they looked at me. I was the radiant star of the house. The entire \u201cstage\u201d belonged to me. But it was not the boards of the stage floor that I felt under my feet\u2014it was a firm foundation. It was not spotlights that illuminated my face, but God\u2019s superb sun and the wonderful love of my parents… <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
Bertha Kalich by Manuel Rosenberg, 1926. Columbia University Libraries Rare Book & Manuscript Library.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

***<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On a beautiful Sabbath day, when we were all sitting around the table, my grandmother said, \u201ctomorrow, as God wills it, on my word Sabbath, Beylkele will start attending kheyder,”<\/em>3<\/a><\/sup><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her \u201cstatement\u201d came so unexpectedly, so suddenly, that no one knew at that moment what to answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My mother responded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt is, it seems, still a little bit too early, maybe we should wait through the summer, and after that\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But my grandmother did not let her finish.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s already high time, high time\u201d, she said. \u201cShe is after all, your kadish<\/em>\u201d4<\/a><\/sup> … Sunday morning my father took me by the hand and led me somewhere down a side street and soon I was standing before the rebe.5<\/a><\/sup> …Before I knew it I was already sitting with a group of children on a long bench that swung and shook like a drunken Gentile\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My rebe<\/em> had no face. He was purely beard. The hair grew wildly and had all kinds of colors. Here a bunch of ash-gray, here a bunch of brownish-black hair, woven through with a sparkling silver thread. His eyebrows were as red as fire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From this bunch protruded a red, pointy nose, and over the little nose, two little holes, with which he looked at his world, which was probably no bigger than the kheyder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
Portrait of actress Bertha Kalich, 1914. The Theatre<\/em> 19, no. 158. April 1914. <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

***<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTell me, little girl, what is this?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAn alef<\/em>.\u201d6<\/a><\/sup><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t be shy, louder!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAn alef<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was not shy, but I was annoyed that I had to repeat the \u201calef<\/em>\u201d perhaps fifty times\u2014what use was it? I knew right away that it was an alef.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

But the rebe<\/em> was a stubborn man. Perhaps fifty times I repeated the alef<\/em>, until I was sick of it. The same thing happened with the \u201cbeys<\/em>\u201d and \u201cgiml<\/em>\u201d. Oh, if only I had had the strength then. I would tear up my rebe<\/em>!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was dark as Egypt in there, the ceiling was torn as though it had been bombarded by cannons. Spiderwebs\u2014here, there, everywhere. From the gray walls streamed sweat, one drop after another slid down and fell on the half-rotten floor. I never saw such weeping walls later in my life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

…There was a dresser, perhaps from Sobieski\u2019s times,7<\/a><\/sup> and two brass lights on the dresser coated in the mold of eternity, \u201cadorned\u201d with pieces of wax from melted candles. … A red, threadbare blanket on the seat of the chair covered a flattened and careworn cushion, upon which the rebe<\/em> probably rested his sick bones after a hard day of work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The melody with which the rebe<\/em> taught the children drew itself out monotonously, it throbbed with unhappiness, and it was only when the rebe<\/em> \u201ctreated\u201d the student with the whip that the kheyder became a bit livelier.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The rebe<\/em> taught well, but he could beat us even better.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Something trivial, a foolish thing, happened. While the rebe<\/em> was going over the sedre<\/em>8<\/a><\/sup> of the week with a boy, another girl tied a tail of the rebe<\/em>\u2019s coat to the chair leg. I swear to you that the other girl did this, and not me. I only laughed loudly. When the rebe<\/em> suddenly stood up from his chair, and wanted to run with his whip to one of the boys on the end of the bench, his chair dragged after his coat, and when he turned to see what was dragging behind him, he fell, poor thing, over the chair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When he stood up and untied the tail of his coat from the chair, I saw before me a strange figure. The heap of hair spun upon his throat here and there, the whip in his hand trembled, his splayed feet shook from anger, and in the first moment, I didn\u2019t know what to do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
Ivan Franko Park, Lviv. Lviv Official tourism Site.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

I laughed the greatest laughter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I don\u2019t need to tell you what happened later, but believe me, that the beating did not hurt me, but I could not get over the shame in my heart. It was an unworthy violation on the rebe\u2019s part, and I couldn\u2019t forgive him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Have you ever heard of this, that a complete stranger should lift up my dress and hit me so murderously for\u2014why? You are, after all, impartial people\u2014so, I ask you: Why?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

March 25, 1925<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I can sing\u2026<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Friday night, when my father finished singing zmires<\/em> and saying the prayer after eating, such a discussion almost always transpired in our house.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat do you say, Zalmen, should we perhaps take a walk in the Jesuit Garden?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo,\u201d answered my father. \u201cSomehow I don\u2019t feel like moving from my spot. I\u2019m so tired.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, you\u2019re certainly right, Zalmen, I\u2019m tired, too\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A minute later:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf you do want to go, Bashe, I\u2019ll come along, but not for more than an hour. We\u2019ll drink a glass of beer and go home\u2026:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAs though I had nothing to do but dress myself up for a glass of beer,\u201d answered my mother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My father was silent, but a minute later my mother responded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou know what, Zalmen, if you\u2019re going to be stubborn, there\u2019s no use. Here I go, putting on another dress\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And once\u2014indeed it was on a Friday night\u2014my fate was decided in the Jesuit Garden\u2026.that I must go on the stage. The decision was approved by my mother, by my father, and by a certain Mrs. Shapiro.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mrs. Shapiro was perhaps entirely responsible for that which Bertha Kalich is an actress, and I always remember her fondly. She was a dear woman, a heartfelt person, though a little too forward-thinking for my parents. She lived with us as a neighbor, and her husband was the first violinist in the Lviv music society \u201cHarmonia.\u201d Besides being radical in her worldview, she was able to win my mother\u2019s friendship. Mrs. Shapiro had no children, and perhaps for that reason she loved me so fiercely. She was the pioneer of the women\u2019s rights movement in Lviv, and she later became the midwife-doctor in the city.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One Friday, all four of us went to the Jesuit Garden. My father, my mother, Mrs. Shapiro and me. …We were all sitting on a bench. A fifth person was sitting near us, an older man with a large mustache. He sat there like a mummy, learning on a big walking stick, listening to the music.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I sang back every aria that the music played… I had a beautiful, melodic voice, and I only had to open my mouth, and it sang out of me. No other girl among my neighbors could sing like me,  nor dance, nor pose\u2014of course not.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Today, I am sure that the older gentleman with the big mustache…enjoyed my singing more than the music itself…He stopped my father, and told him that he had to send the child, me, that is, to study. The child is a great talent. The entire world will recognize her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My father thanked the old gentlemen for his good advice, and when he recounted to my mother and Mrs. Shapiro what the old man had said, Mrs. Shapiro jumped for joy. That is after all what she has been claiming! She\u2019s been yelling about this for a long time. Beylkele\u2019s voice is a gift from God, and neglecting such a gift from God is a sin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That night, Mrs. Shapiro insisted to my parents, like she did all the time, that they should do something about this matter. They must let me study. I must grow up to be a great prima donna, a great actress. It will be, she said, an honor for my parents, for the entire city. Beykele Kalakh (we were called Kalakh) will be known throughout the world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

You\u2019ll see, you\u2019ll see. Never, I swear to you, did my mother listen to Mrs. Shapiro with such attention as that night. My father also did not say anything against it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Yes, my mother said. She needs first to go to school\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

–What does that have to do with it? Answered Mrs. Shapiro. School is school and music is music.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Well, never mind, we\u2019ll see, added my father.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Soon Dr. Kalakh will come from Brody, and we\u2019ll talk it over. What he says, that\u2019s what we\u2019ll do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

***<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I lay down in bed that Friday night, I couldn\u2019t sleep. For a while, I listened to my father discussing with my mother about conservatory, theater, music…Their speech slowly put me to sleep and I dreamed beautiful but foolish dreams…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

March 28, 1925<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

My aristocratic uncle<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

All the Jews have Passover once a year; we had two Passovers\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Truly, at our place it looked like the eve of Passover, when my uncle let us know that he was coming. We turned over the furniture, cleaned and scoured, decorated the rooms, my mother gave up her work almost completely, and just went around thinking about what kinds of meals to prepare for this grand guest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Never mind that one had to make chopped onions with livers, this she knew. Uncle Felix really loved this particular dish. But at home, where his aristocratic wife presided, the regiment doctor did not even dare to dream of such a food; in the society he moved about in, one also did not look kindly upon chopped onions with livers. So, he really missed it all year, and he only refreshed himself when he came to us in Lviv.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Little of his Jewish identity remained beyond his love for chopped onions. He was a proud Austrian citizen and believed that Jews should assimilate. He grew up under the strict guidance of my religious grandfather; nonetheless he set out on another path, and he succeeded in becoming a big shot for Franz Josef<\/a> and took from the world what he deserved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
Franz Joseph I.Wikimedia Commons.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

My father, his brother, was another sort of person. He walked in the footsteps of my grandfather…He served God, tied brushes at the factory, played the violin from time to time, and awaited the Messiah. He never wanted to turn the world upside down…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Despite that, he greatly respected his older brother, the regiment doctor. Not only did he consider his opinions, but he didn\u2019t do anything important without my uncle\u2019s agreement.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Somehow we were all rendered speechless when my uncle showed up. He himself was friendly, but uncomfortable. First of all, the man spoke German, and as well as my father knew the German language, he nonetheless stuttered, and my mother\u2019s tongue was also not at home. When Herr Dr. Kalakh spoke, only my grandfather was happy. He spoke Yiddish with his son and was not even ashamed. My uncle answered him in mistake-filled German that he called Yiddish. Even the regiment doctor had respect for my grandfather, so in his honor, he had to go wash his hands before eating bread\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It didn\u2019t take long for the discussion to focus on me. My father wanted to know, first of all, if they should send me to the Czacki shule, which was an unofficial Jewish school, or to the \u201cSaint Anne\u2019s,\u201d which was a Christian institution. My mother and father naturally were drawn to the Czacki school, but my uncle gave them such a look, that they immediately \u201crealized\u201d that the Christian school was better. And when they started speaking of letting me study singing, my uncle nearly jumped up in anger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat?!!\u201d he yelled. \u201cMaybe you want yet to make a Yiddish prima donna out of her, too?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I really can\u2019t tell you how much sarcasm lay in the words \u201cYiddish prima donna.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Note: As a young teenager, Bertha Kalich attended the Lviv Conservatory and at thirteen, joined\u00a0 the chorus at the Skarbek Polish theatre. There, she met Regina Prager and Jacob-Ber Gimpel, and was one of Gimpel\u2019s first actresses in his Yiddish theatre in Lviv, established in 1889. She performed throughout Eastern Europe. She married Leopold Spachner and for a time retired from the stage. In the following episodes, she describes her early marriage and a crisis that occurred when her legendarily jealous husband learned of a strong rival for her love.<\/em>
<\/p>\n\n\n

  1. Ikh vil nit geyn in kheyder, <\/em>the title of a well-known song by Sholem Aleichem, with music by Joseph Cherniavsky. \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li>
  2. Mirele Efros<\/em> is a play by Jacob Gordin (1853 \u20131909), in which the titular character is also known as the \u2018Jewish Queer Lear.\u201d \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li>
  3. Traditional Jewish school where small children learn the Hebrew alphabet and other rudiments of Jewish religious learning. \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li>
  4. The Aramaic prayer Kadish is traditionally recited by a son for a deceased parent. \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li>
  5. The Hasidic rabbi or teacher. \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li>
  6. Alef, first letter of the Hebrew alphabet, followed by beys and giml. \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li>
  7. Very old; the historical figure Jan III Sobieski (1629-1696)<\/a> was, King of Poland and Grand Duke of Lithuania \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li>
  8. Weekly Torah portion. \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li><\/ol>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

    Published in Der tog (the day) \u2013 March 7-Nov. 14, 1925 Translated by Amanda (Miryem-Khaye) Seigel BERTHA KALICH (1874-1939) was a renowned actress on the Yiddish and English language stage. Born in Lviv, Ukraine, she began her career as a chorus girl in the Skarbek Polish theatre, becoming an early prima donna in Gimpel\u2019s Theatre […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":35946,"featured_media":2363,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":"[{\"id\":\"f7f8f974-00eb-4c8e-8f8a-14171826874a\",\"content\":\"Ikh vil nit geyn in kheyder, <\\\/em>the title of a well-known song by Sholem Aleichem, with music by Joseph Cherniavsky.\"},{\"id\":\"94bd240d-44ba-4375-8dbe-885e2a7d8911\",\"content\":\"Mirele Efros<\\\/em> is a play by Jacob Gordin (1853 \\u20131909), in which the titular character is also known as the \\u2018Jewish Queer Lear.\\u201d\"},{\"id\":\"16064edf-ee0a-42af-95cd-b3aea1369f10\",\"content\":\"Traditional Jewish school where small children learn the Hebrew alphabet and other rudiments of Jewish religious learning.\"},{\"id\":\"2a12e804-9fb3-478b-9e66-97384725aec6\",\"content\":\"The Aramaic prayer Kadish is traditionally recited by a son for a deceased parent.\"},{\"id\":\"72fa81ae-bff0-4797-9701-8897ac5d4eec\",\"content\":\"The Hasidic rabbi or teacher.\"},{\"id\":\"966458ec-2ba2-42fa-9e7d-f3ee5838556f\",\"content\":\"Alef, first letter of the Hebrew alphabet, followed by beys and giml.\"},{\"id\":\"8671cac9-7a83-42a7-8628-316dc0af26ea\",\"content\":\"Very old; the historical figure Jan III Sobieski (1629-1696)<\\\/a> was, King of Poland and Grand Duke of Lithuania\"},{\"id\":\"10f0af18-89f8-4312-9b8d-ce8ac4bc3d42\",\"content\":\"Weekly Torah portion.\"}]","uwm_wg_additional_authors":[]},"categories":[47,11,19],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2311","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-1918-1945","category-actors","category-north-america"],"yoast_head":"\nBertha Kalich [Kalish], My Life: An Autobiography, pt. 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