The World of Yesterday
While adaptations of novels and memoirs are becoming quite trendy in the world of British theatre, works about Jewish people have remained far from the norm. And even though productions like Revenge: After the Levoyah shine at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, I still lament at the dearth of Jewish theatre or, theatre about Jewish people, across the United Kingdom. I was very much looking forward, then, to Anya Ostrovskaia’s stage adaptation of Stefan Zweig’s memoir/autobiography, The World of Yesterday. The original work captures the experience of Austrian Jews in the early 20th-century through the author’s perspective.
Staying faithful to the novel, Ostrovskaia’s production covers a lot of ground; from the end of the Habsburg Empire to both World Wars and, of course, the rise of fascism and Nazi Germany, the play is perhaps just as dense as the 1942 novel. To provide colour to the verbal foliage, a light projector with transparent overlays (a là Sam Rees and Gabriele Uboldi’s Lessons on Revolution) marks historical checkpoints, often adding imagery to Zweig’s text. Often, this is quite literal, as the actors lay down a page from the original novel, layering photos, newspaper clippings, and even some added drawn-on material to create a brand-new historical collage. Many other playful storytelling devices intervene in the novel, like chalk drawings on the floor to rewind to childhood memories and the building of a toy railway track to illuminate the destruction caused by the Great War. And then, there are the more experimental additions, such as a strip tease to “It’s a Long Way to Tipperary” or a new wave ensemble dance to what I can only describe as a Calvinist sermon.
This should give you but a small taste of the interdisciplinary nature of the piece, which is also billed as “a cabaret performance.” While these directorial additions added some much-needed texture and colour, however, it seems they did little to move the story along. The cabaret performance (an appropriately sensual performance from Nadav Antman Ron), for instance, was perhaps a nod to 1930s Berlin. But I can’t say precisely how it served the story being told. Additionally, I spent so much time trying to interpret what the building and destruction of the train track meant and how it connected to the larger story that I lost track of the text spoken by the performer. The light projections were probably the most useful contribution to overall storytelling, but I did feel that, on the night I saw especially, some overlays were rushed and not given time for the audience to digest fully. Ultimately, I found myself asking, what is this all about? Mildly concerning, given the epic nature of the piece. But I felt that Ostrovskaia’s additions to the source material were fighting for a voice. And I lament that the audience never got a full taste of what was being said through these additions.
Other aspects of the performance, too, are still finding their groove. In the first half especially, I sensed some under-rehearsed scenes, as actors struggled to maintain pace and energy. Overall, it seemed that the ensemble had little connection to the text that was spoken. It was only in the piece’s second half, when a clown-like Hitler (Tanya Lyalina)- faced caked with white makeup and a small, recognizable moustache- is revealed that the piece really finds its stride. Even here, I felt they could have moved further into the realm of the absurd. But it was only at this point that I got a real sense of conflict. It was only then that those small squabbles between certain characters (which were quite frequent and out of place in the first half) felt warranted. It finally felt like something was at stake for our main character as he slowly lost aspects of his day to day life which would be unfathomable to modern-day audiences.
And speaking of modern-day, I was also struck by the missed opportunity to delve into contemporary context. Though Theodore Herzl- the founding father of Zionism and the very concept of a Jewish state- was featured, nothing more was mentioned about the origins of Zionism. What’s more, at the end, newspaper clippings of our exodus from the Afghan War were shone on the light projector. The absence of the present War in Israel and Gaza was palpable— searing, even. In a production that doesn’t shy away from experimentation and playing with form, I have to admit, I was quite surprised to see some shying away from this very omniscient, all-consuming present-day event.
And it would normally be here that I would end my review, but, as a fan of those discussions that happen in the bar, in the theatre toilets, in those small hallways and train rides home, I have to say that this production was probably the most successful I have seen in my three years living in London, if only for the dialogue and conversation prompted after the show. As an American Jew, the biggest culture shock for me was how much Jewish people are (quite frankly) in hiding here. After the show, there were many candid conversations held about precisely this: How do we, as Jews, fit into this country? How are we viewed currently? It’s a bit ambiguous, and it’s especially hard for migrants like myself to grasp. We do exist, and we are not ashamed of our existence, and yet, we still fail to be seen here. Even writing these words now feels like a risk I am taking, and I am simply existing, stating and affirming a part of my identity that cannot be ignored. This, I feel, is also important to state given this production is right on the verge of finding its own voice— what it has to say about Zweig’s experience, and what this can offer to a contemporary audience that still fights similar battles today.
⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️
The World of Yesterday is playing at the Courtyard Theatre until 25 August 2024. More information and tickets can be found here.
