Present Music and ‘The City Without Jews’

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The Milwaukee Art Museum’s sleek, futuristic atrium has now hosted several Present Music concerts, each time with music that complements a current exhibition. It’s a beautiful ongoing partnership, and this past Sunday’s program was so far the deepest and most all-encompassing. The 1924 Austrian silent film Die Stadt ohne Juden (The City Without Jews) was screened with a live-performed score by composer Olga Neuwirth and preceded by a panel of academics discussing the historical context and notable elements of both the film and the music. The museum’s contribution: an exhibition of Dutch and Flemish art (primarily of scenes from the Hebrew Bible) from the collection of Alfred Bader, an Austrian Jewish chemist who had fled to North America and eventually made his home in Milwaukee, establishing a fine art gallery in his name.

All these elements together constituted an experience that was both intellectually rich and profoundly heavy. With the backdrop of the intensifying conflict between Israel and Palestine, and an alarming uptick in anti-Semitic incidents in the United States (according to one of the speakers, a 400% increase since this time last year), the panel and the film dwelled on some sad realities of the past and present.

Everyone on the panel deserves a shoutout, as all their contributions were excellent:

• Moderator Amy Shapiro, professor emerita of Philosophy and Women’s & Gender Studies at Alverno College
• Samantha Abramson, executive director of the Holocaust Education Resource Center (HERC)
• Yaniv Dinur, conductor of the night’s concert, former resident conductor of the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra
• Our own David Luhrssen, Shepherd Express film critic and author of Hammer of the Gods: Thule Society and the Birth of Nazism
• Lisa Silverman, professor of History and Jewish Studies at UW–Milwaukee

Giving Context

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Photo: Present Music - presentmusic.org

Yaniv Dinur

Yaniv Dinur

The conversation covered important ground and context for the film, including the social and religious climate of post-World War I Austria, the historical cycles of Jews being forced out and returning to their land, Jewish cultural contributions at the beginning of the twentieth century, and how certain characters in the film were analogues for real people. Some details hit hard. Hugo Bettauer, the author of the book from which the film was adapted, was assassinated months after its premiere. And some of the Jewish actors playing out the fantasy scenario would later face real persecution and death in the Holocaust.

When I arrived back in the atrium for the performance, I saw a totally packed crowd, as has become customary at Present Music concerts.

Maestro Dinur had joked around a bit during the panel, but before the film he gave some opening remarks in which he expressed deep internal pain as a native of Israel. Even in these comments he employed some humor, but ended by affirming the comfort and power of art.

In the film, Austria is experiencing economic troubles after World War I, and the antisemitic new Chancellor orders all Jews to be deported from the country. Non-Jews are thrilled at this until they realize that the absence of Jews is worsening the economic depression and impoverishing the arts. Meanwhile, Leo, one of the exiles, disguises himself as a Frenchman to return to his city and starts putting up posters (signed as “Federation of True Christians”) in support of repealing the antisemitic law. Eventually the public starts to come around, and in a final scheme Leo gets one of the parliament members drunk so he can’t vote, and the repeal passes with the needed two-thirds majority.

Music Transcends the Film

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Photo: Present Music - presentmusic.org

Olga Neuwirth

Olga Neuwirth

Given the absurdist, screwball-comedy treatment of the topic, Olga Neuwirth’s score helped to transcend the film and help the audience reflect on the real history that followed less than 20 years later. Scenes set in a synagogue had an appropriately mystical score. The clarinet and saxophone in the ensemble sometimes emerged in swells of klezmer, or in tired urban depression à la Taxi Driver, portraying the post-war psychological state. I was particularly struck by the scenes of separation between Leo and his girlfriend Lotte, and between a father and his son on a train platform. In these moments, the only score was a pre-recorded track of muted tenderness, with a touch of the surreal to suggest a feeling of “This is not happening.” Even in the context of a parody film, the music helped the emotions to leap off the screen.

Another notable aspect of the score was that every time the Chancellor came on screen, the ensemble greeted him with over-the-top strident tones, groans of disgust. Neuwirth clearly could not hide her hatred for this character. In a winking touch, the appearance of Leo’s posters from the “Federation of True Christians” were accompanied by heroic trumpet.

The program closed with the Woody Guthrie song “Gonna Get Through This World”, arranged for the ensemble by Aviya Kopelman, joined by singer Donna Woodall. This served as a perfect credits song (never mind the lack of actual credits), snapping us definitively into the present. The arrangement floated along with different instruments glowing in solos, with an especially fine clarinet solo from Zachary Good. Woodall’s smooth mezzo communicated the message of persevering through life “the best I can.”

This event was thought-provoking and somber at times, with images and sounds that are still resonating in my mind. I also want to recognize Kantara Souffrant, the Milwaukee Art Museum’s Curator of Community Dialogue, whose warm presence and thoughtful remarks helped to connect the different strands of art and media that came together for the experience.