I apologize in advance for the length of this post. The next couple of days are going to be some of the most impactful of my life, and I want to be able to remember each and every moment.
Today, our group of travelers had the honor, and I choose that word carefully, to walk the difficult steps into the concentration camp at Terezin. This was a walk I knew we had to take, and one with steps we will never forget. And it is a walk that changes us forever. It goes back to when I was in 7th grade and I got a flyer in my locker at junior high school saying the Holocaust was a hoax created by Jews in order to collect on fake life insurance claims. My parents had me meet with my rabbi, John Sherwood, of blessed memory, who showed me pictures taken as camps were liberated. He would show a photo with tears in his eyes.
There was silence in his office.
Another photo from another book, this one more horrifying than the one before.
More silence.
Another photo from another book. He looked at me and said “David, look at these pictures and tell me this is fake.”
More tears stream down his face.
Another photo.
“I went to Auschwitz and I saw it with my own eyes.”
It was those words that stuck with me all through my life and was the motivation for me to take a group from TAE to Poland in 2015 (some of these travelers are on this trip as well) and walk the impossible steps at Auschwitz.
In 2007, a dear friend and colleague Mark Saltzman wanted to commission me to write music for a special project he was creating for Yom HaShoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day. He wanted to have me take poetry written by the children imprisoned at the concentration camp at Terezin and set it to music. He wanted to give a voice to these children who were silenced by the nazis (by the way, I know I should capitalize the N in that word, I just refuse to). When Mark asked if I would do the project with him, I said no.
And he asked again, and I refused. I felt totally inadequate to try to give these precious children a voice. Who am I to think I have the ability to tell their stories through music?
He asked again, and said “Just look at the poetry and see what you think.” And I agreed.
I started reading the words of these precious children and, with great humility and hesitation, agreed to take the commission. And I am so grateful to Mark for being so persistent and insistent. What followed was the most profound compositional experience of my life.
I started studying about the camp, as I had little knowledge of it. I learned that it was a front for the Red Cross who came and did an inspection and found that the Jews were being treated so well by the nazis. I learned that the facade that the Red Cross was far different from the horrors of what happened behind fake world they created. There were no soccer games, no stores for the people to shop in, no candy being shared among the children there as was displayed in the footage of the propaganda movies made by the nazis.
As I wrote each of the pieces in the suite of music, I felt these children come to life. It was as if they were sitting next to me on my piano bench, encouraging me to keep writing their music. I could feel their voices singing the songs, I could see their faces. They were guiding me as I composed.
There was one piece that was terribly difficult for me to write. I struggled to find the voice in the poetry. It was just too devastating and honest and my music was not finding a suitable voice for this poor boy who wrote these words. And, as I sat struggling, I looked up from my desk into my backyard and saw Carly and Hayley playing on our climbing structure. Here they were, two Jewish children playing without a care in the world while I was writing music to the horrific words of this dear boy. And that is when I heard the first cello line, and the rest of the song wrote itself very quickly.
I am so grateful for these children who trusted me with their words and stories. Their presence in my life had a profound impact on me and my composition. And when the last note was written and I called the project complete, I mourned these children. It was like losing them all over again. I only hope my music does their memory justice.
Writing this music solidified my decision that one day I would travel to Terezin so I could feel these children once again, only this time on their turf. I wanted to bear witness with my own eyes, much like I did at Auschwitz and Majdanek.
The piece, entitled “Through Children’s Eyes” was performed only one time, in the Spring of 2008 in Los Angeles. I remember after the performance Mark Saltzman and I started to dream that one day we hope we can do this piece in the camp itself, in Terezin where the poetry was written. For many years it was only a dream.
As many of you know, the planning of this trip was not without complications. The first was COVID which delayed the trip once and then again a second time. The second was the closing of Da’at, the travel company I had always chosen to work with in planning communal travel. With the formation of J2 Adventures about 2 years ago, we began to rethink the trip and a new itinerary was born. One stop would have to be Terezin.
At this point I started to reach out to the Terezin office via email and a few phone calls. I wanted to see if there was any chance we could do a concert of “Through Children’s Eyes” somewhere in the camp. I got no reply. I had the J2 office try to make contact. Again, nothing. I figured the dream would not be fulfilled and I would simply perform one of the pieces during a memorial service, and that would be enough.
And then, on February 23, 2024, I received the email I was waiting for from Stanislav Lada from the Terezin office saying that he was “ready to discuss my concert.”
What followed was a whirlwind of activity to try to figure out if we could pull this off. One miraculous moment after another followed. The camp told me that we could use the Attic Theatre, which is the actual space where musical performances happened in the camp. There is, quite simply no place more authentic to present this piece than this space. Most groups have to pre-reserve this 5 years and beyond in advance. They offered it to us with less than 6 months lead time. The next miraculous moment happened when I shared with one of our travelers Steven Shapiro, what we were hoping to do. He said, “We should film this,” with me responding, “Of course I would have my iPhone on a tripod recording it.” He laughed and said, “This would not be good enough, that this was an historic concert that needed to be documented in the right way.” He is a prominent business manager in the entertainment industry and he would see if he could find someone to film this for us. And find someone he did. He reached out to his longtime client Phedon Papamichael (twice nominated for an academy award) to see if he knew of someone local who would be best suited for this project. Phedon exclaimed that he wanted to do it, and he would assemble a crew to be sure we did it right. The next miraculous moment was Terezin giving us permission to use the Attic Theatre for no charge, and also giving us license to film anywhere in the camp we wished. The next miraculous moment was when Mark Saltzman said he wanted to go and sing his original part I wrote for him in 2008. He would handle hiring singers and musicians local to Prague thanks to a generous grant from our dear friend, Dr. Alan Mason and the Mason Glazer Charitable Fund. One miraculous moment after another.
And today, November 19, 2024, my dream of hearing these children’s voices through my music happened in the Attic Theatre at Terezin, in a concert presented to our traveling family and a few special guests. with a film crew of more than 20 from all over the world recording. I cannot wait to share the final product with you.
But first, we must see the camp and learn more about what happened here. We made the 45 mile drive from Prague to Terezin (or in German Theresienstadt which they renamed it after they conquered the land), the town that was a part of humanity’s inhumanity.
As we drove we learned that Jews were sent to Terezin by passenger cars and not cattle cars. And then we passed the location where Heydrich, the Czech butcher and the facilitator of the Wannsee Conference was assassinated.
As we were driving we could see mountain ranges surrounding us that were on the border between the Czech Republic and Germany. Before World War 2, these were heavily fortified as the Czech’s had a lot of advanced weaponry to protect themselves from a German invasion. The fortification on the mountains gave the Czech army a huge advantage over an attacking German army. There were some Germans living in these areas as well, and in 1938 the mountains were given to Hitler by the Allies (not the Czech’s) in order to appease him. If he had the mountains he would not attack, there would be no war. This meant that the Czech people had no ways to defend herself, and in 1939 he took the rest of it. I guess Hitler was not a man of his word.
As we enter Terezin, we learn that it was a hidden fortress built in the 1780’s for soldiers who were defending Prague. It was totally hidden, we could not see the fortified walls until we were right up against it. As Camilla said, we can’t see the camp through the trees, but they can see us…
We learned that Terezin was a military base from the 1780’s until 1941 when the first transport brought inmates to Terezin, and the base became a concentration camp. It would become a military base once again after the end of the Second World War.
The small fortified town was made for only 6,000 people, and during the Holocaust it had 58,000 people squeezed there. Obviously the living conditions were horrible, and while this is not a death camp (there are no gas chambers in Terezin), many died or were killed.
When you first enter you feel like you are entering a small town.
We were surprised to see many people who live in Terezin today as we were touring the grounds. I am not sure how anyone could live in a place where such horrors happened.
We drove by what was left of the railway tracks that brought each and every prisoner to Terezin. I will never get used to seeing tracks like this.
We learned that as they entered the camp, inmates were given numbers and their names were never used. These numbers were not tattooed onto their bodies however.
We make our way to the main museum to learn more about Terezin.
We got to watch some of the footage from the Red Cross visit that happened on June 23, 1944. We learned that the nazis made temporary improvements to give the camp visitors a positive impression, with the deportations to the death camps pausing during the 90 minute visit. In preparation for the visit, the nazis deported 7,500 Jews to Auschwitz between May 16 and 18, 1944 in order to make the camp seem less overcrowded. The Red Cross was taken only on a pre-selected route and only talking to prisoners who looked well and who had been briefed beforehand. Who knows if the nazis were holding a gun behind a curtain at the children forcing them to smile?
The inspection went smoothly and we learned that the man who filed the report, Dr. Rossel, called this a “destination camp,” as if the Jews were there by choice on vacation. Sadly, the PR stunt worked and the nazis made a propaganda film with the footage in order to prove they were not mistreating the Jews. It angers me greatly to know that people were there and chose to look another way at a fairy tale instead of really looking for the horror story behind the scenes.
This wall is the art of Helga, age 12, whose father told her not to draw what she remembers from her life before Terezin, but to draw what she sees. We are all devastated she had to draw these horrible images. We learn that Terezin has a legacy of drawings, poems, music and other art that was created here. It was culture that fought against death.
Ron and Camilla share that Terezin was a temporary camp, a stop between the ghettos of where the Jews came from and the death camps where they were heading. They came in on passenger cars and left in cattle cars.
We learned that 15,000 children were imprisoned at Terezin between 1942 and 1944, with less than 150 surviving the war. Let that sink in. The loss of any life is terrible, the loss of children’s lives on this scale is unthinkable. The tears start to flow.
We learned that Terezin was a station, a stop on the way to Auschwitz. Of the 81,000 sent to the death camps from here, only 3,500 survived.
We have some free time to explore the museum and learn more about the horrors of the camp.
We walk into a room that has walls covered in names, much like the walls of the Pinkas Synagogue we visited earlier. These names are all 15,000 children who were held here. There was no way to stand back and capture all the names in one photograph. There was an audible gasp from our traveling family, but not the same as when we first laid eyes on the Old Town Square, this was filled with devastation.
In another room in the museum they have original artwork by the children of Terezin. With each picture painting a story that is so tragic, especially when it comes from the mind and through the eyes of such precious children. A description of the display reads “The children’s paintings exhibited in this museum bear eloquent witness to the world of their authors. The children who painted them put their feelings, desires, ideas and memories of home into them. The lives of the great majority of these young artists were annihilated. Their artwork thus remains an indictment against those who had a part in such a horrific crime.”
I am grateful that Marcia Gordon captured this photo of me standing in front of this display of a poem by Franta Bass. This display stopped me in my tracks because this is one of the poems I set to music in my “Through Children’s Eyes” that we will hear later today. I stood there and silently wept as I remember the little boy, now seen in a photo, who helped me create my music.
Despite the brutalities in Terezin, somehow faith was not destroyed. We made our way to the Hidden Synagogue that an inmate, Arthur Berlinger, created out of a tiny storage space.
As we all piled into this small room, made holy because of the souls who created the artwork and Jewish prayers on the walls, we knew that the only thing we could do is to bring prayer back to this holy space. And so, with great love and care, we softly sang the Shema together. I tried to make eye contact with each person in that small space. I know when we are back at TAE after this journey is complete, we will never sing the Shema the same again. It was filled with such love and such despair.
We then made our way to the recreation of the barracks that also housed an exhibit on music, art and theatre. We had free time to explore these exhibits. At Terezin, they fought not with guns, but with culture. Each, in and of itself, an act of heroism.
I loved seeing the Hebrew written in musical notes. Thanks, Alan Roll, for sharing this with me!
Our next stop was the crematorium. As we walked towards the cemetery we were able to get some rocks from under this monument below to place on the unmarked graves.
As we walked towards the crematorium and cemetery, we learned that at the beginning, when Jews would die, they would be buried. And we saw that there are row after row of unmarked graves, nameless victims of Hitler’s final solution, It was here that we placed our rocks.
Each person in our group found their own private place to lay their stones down. It was a devastating and touching personal moment for each of us.
We learned that eventually the camp had to ask for a crematorium to be built because people were dying so fast here that they couldn’t keep up with the burials and, during the winter it was impossible to bury because the ground was so hard. In 1942, the crematorium was active. The ashes of the victims were buried at first, but eventually dumped in the river, with inmates standing in an assembly line, shoulder to shoulder, handing the remains from person to person until they reached the water. The nazis wanted all evidence of wrongdoing destroyed and I guess mass nameless graves might raise suspicion.
We then entered the crematorium.
This is the autopsy room.
We decided to do a memorial service by this tree, that was planted by the children of Terezin. Ron shared that they danced around this tree in celebration of Tu B’shevat, doing the hora and bringing light into the darkness of the camp. Sadly, each of these children were murdered in a death camp at the hands of the nazis. The thought of these children, who are only now a memory, dancing around a tree brings the horror of the Holocaust to a whole new level. The devastation was indescribable. At the end of our service, as we said Kaddish, Milt placed flowers at this memorial in honor of his great grandmother. We all cried with Milt, and comforted each other.
Just as we finished the service, a gentle rain began to fall, almost as if God started crying with us.
We then made our way to the Attic Theatre for the presentation of “Through Children’s Eyes.”
For so many years, I have dreamt of this moment. And after walking the camp and seeing how these children lived, and seeing the original artwork of these children that was discovered hidden in the walls of Terezin after the war, I was an emotional wreck. I felt the presence of these children all day long, and I knew that hearing the music in the actual space where music was played during the war would level me in every way. As we entered the theatre I literally held my breath.
At the beginning of the presentation, Mark and I addressed our group, explaining the piece and preparing them for what they were going to experience. As I stood there, I could hear these children silently screaming at us through the walls. We were literally standing on holy ground, and I felt so grateful to share this moment with Leasa and the rest of our TAE traveling family. And behind them, was this massive film crew to capture each and every moment. Mark and I finished our introduction, and I sat down, ready for the performance to start.
Mark introduced the 5 performers who were joining him in presenting the piece, and we were ready to go. There was a silence in the room that seemed to last forever.
I gently closed my eyes as the clarinet sounded the first measure of the piece. Her tone was so beautiful and touched me to my core. And then the cello comes in with a warmth and beauty that is not describable. I sat in awe for the 30 minute concert. I wept almost the whole time, and poor Leasa’s leg has bruises from me gripping it so tightly, from all of the moments made so meaningful by the talented performers. I felt the children through their voices and instruments.
Following the performance we had a chance to share feelings and emotions. I was so touched by the questions and the reflections shared by the audience and the performers.
There are moments in one’s life that defy description. This concert was the realization of a 17 year dream, and I am so grateful for being able to be there to see this come to be. My gratitude is endless for all of the work it took to make this happen and those who would not let this dream fade away. I cannot wait to share the film with you all once editing is completed.
Baruch Ata Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha’olam, shehechianu, v’kimanu, v’higianu lazman hazeh.
Thank you God, for giving me life, for sustaining me, and for allowing me to reach this moment.
Here are Mark and I with Phedon, our incredible cinematographer.
Here I am with Harry, our steady cam operator and the one who will edit the footage.
The incredible cast and orchestra.
Some behind the scenes shots.
Thanks to my dear friend Steven Shapiro for making all of this possible. And thanks to Dr. Alan Mason for the grant from the Mason Glazer Charitable Fund to pay the performers, all local talent from Prague. The caliber of the musicians was matched only by the care they put into their work and the piece.
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