
I read a
story in
The Forward last week about a production of
Fiddler on the Roof in New Delhi, India, a place where there are very few Jews, and very little familiarity with Jewish culture or history.
But despite those barriers, and the difficulty of translating the songs into Hindi, the musical still resonated with the audience. “The character is so universal, he could be an Indian for all that it matters,” Rakesh Gupta, who played Tevye, told writer Ben Frumin. “It’s a very Indian thing,” Gupta said. “The problems being faced by Tevye, the problems being faced by the family about traditions, these challenges are faced by all people, all families. It sounded very familiar.”
The story about
Fiddler on the Roof in India resonated with me because 10 years ago last month I saw the show for the first and so far only time, in Tel Aviv, in Hebrew, with Israeli actor
Chaim Topol in the role of Tevye the milkman.
Topol has had quite a career with Tevye. He starred in the role in London's West End in 1967, then was nominated for an Oscar for the 1971
film version, and 20 years later, received a Tony nomination for the Broadway
revival. (Topol is pictured at top, from a
2005 production in Sydney, Australia.
When I say I'd never seen
Fiddler on the Roof before I saw it in Israel, I mean never. I'd never even seen the movie. (Yes, I know, you're shocked. I was probably the only Jewish person who'd never seen it). In fact, I was proud of my ignorance. I guess I was under the mistaken impression that the story of Tevye and his family romanticized the harsh lives of Jews in Czarist Russia in the early 20th century. I didn't want any part of it.
I've always joked that living in Israel was like being in an alternate universe. Saturday is the weekend and Sunday is a regular workday. Hebrew is written from right to left, instead of left to right. And in Israel, my natural resistance to
Fiddler on the Roof evaporated. Even though I wasn't a regular theatergoer, as soon as I saw an ad for the show in the newspaper, I wanted to go see it.
Granted, I couldn't understand most it, although I picked out words and phrases and bits of dialogue. You have no idea how quickly people speak in their native language. Luckily, I went with two friends, both more fluent in Hebrew than I was. They sat on either side of me and would occasionally whisper key plot points. (If any children are reading this, I'm not condoning our behavior. I don't think we disturbed anyone, but I certainly wouldn't do it today.)
And I'm not ashamed to admit that I was wrong about
Fiddler all those years. I loved it. It was a thrilling experience. I was in tears at the end, when Tevye's daughters go their separate ways and the Jews are forced by the Russian authorities to leave their homes in Anatevka. And
masoret, masoret! (Hebrew for tradition) was ringing in my head for days afterward. There is one difference between the Hebrew and English versions. Instead of "If I Were A Rich Man," Tevye sings "If I Were A Rothschild."
I think the connection I felt was similar to
Steve on Broadway's experiences watching
Wicked in
Germany and
Japan. The essence came through, even if I couldn't understand every word. I just wish I'd had the same level of familiarity with
Fiddler that Steve had with
Wicked. It definitely would have helped.
I knew enough of the plot and I'd heard enough of the songs over the years that
Fiddler on the Roof wasn't entirely unfamiliar. And certainly, I knew the history behind the story. But about six months later, when I finally saw the movie, I realized how much I'd missed. I missed some of the subtleties, some of the funnier parts.
I'm sure there are some musicals I wouldn't want to watch in a foreign language. Believe me, it can be pretty difficult to sit for two hours listening to words you don't understand. But if you have an inkling of the story, if you've seen the show in English, it's a pretty interesting experience.
Sure, seeing
Fiddler on the Roof in Israel, with an overwhelmingly Jewish audience, helped cement the connection. When you're in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem is only an hour away, when you see some of the Israeli soldiers who keep you safe on a daily basis in the audience, you realize how different your world is from Anatevka. It made the experience very powerful.
In any language, the music and lyrics by
Jerry Bock and
Sheldon Harnick, along with
Joseph Stein's book, are truly memorable. The themes, of a close-knit, devout community fighting oppressive outside forces, of a family's struggle to maintain its traditions, of the sometimes rocky relationship between parents and children, are universal. When I saw
The Color Purple on Broadway last summer, it reminded me a little of
Fiddler on the Roof.
Fiddler on the Roof opened on Broadway in 1964 and played for 3,242 performances. When it closed in 1972, it was the longest-running musical in Broadway history. Alisa Solomon, a professor at Columbia University who's writing a book about
Fiddler on the Roof, tells the Forward that there have been "thousands of productions in dozens of languages." Here' s a
sample of
Fiddlers from around the world.