70 Years Ago...

German soldiers prepare to enter Poland

World War II began seventy years ago today with the German invasion of Poland, and the world was forever changed.

I recall that on the 50th anniversary -- 20 years ago -- (I was living in Berlin and serving as the Director of the Berlin Document Center) I was invited to participate in an international conference on the start of World War II, which was held at the Reichstag building in West berlin. Our host was Rita Süssmuth, the President of the German Bundestag, and I recall having a tour of the building. This was, of course, still divided Berlin, and we were taken to a room on the east side for a photo-op of Frau Süssmuth gazing out at East Berlin.

The conference, which was by invitation only, was attended by a small number of historians from around the world. We were hosted one evening by Chancellor Kohl at Schloß Charlottenburg. I recall that he spoke from handwritten notes for perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes and then joined us for a glass of wine. He was particularly interested in speaking with a French scholar (whose name I can no longer remembe) whose work on the Third Republic had made a deep impression on Kohl. I was taken by Kohl's engagement and the level of his participation in this event.

Six weeks after this conference, on October 6th, I observed the preparations for the celebration of the 40th anniversary of the DDR. Erich Honecker invited Gorbachev, Ceauşescu and other leaders of East Bloc countries. There was a military parade and stirring oratory. Four weeks later, the Berlin Wall fell, and the world changed again...

Goodbye, Irène...

Irène Némirovsky and her family, August 1939.
(Courtesy of IMEC)

Seventy years ago the Némirovsky family had no idea of the tragedy that the next years would bring. They were a family intact with successful parents and beloved daughters, who believed that they had every prospect of continuing as they were. The photo above captures the last moments of this family before the beginning of the war that would change everything.

On Monday morning, we will begin to take down our exhibition, Woman of Letters: Irène Némirovsky and Suite Française. If you haven't seen this exhibition, Sunday is your last chance. If you miss it, you will have failed to see one of the most profoundly beautiful exhibitions ever mounted. Just having the opportunity to see the handwritten manuscript of Suite Française would be worth the visit. Seeing it in the context of the richly illustrated story of Irène's life, is an unmatched opportunity.

I am obviously proud of this exhibition and filled with admiration for its curator (and my Deputy) Ivy Barsky and its designer, Amy Forman, and the many others who worked so hard on it, including Sarah Griswold (who was the assistant curator) and Henrietta Foster (who made the brilliant films). My thoughts also turn to Denise Epstein, Irène's daughter, who gave so much, and to our friends at IMEC, who were the best possible partners. The entire experience of creating this exhibition was a remarkable one for all of us -- the things we learned, the friends we made, and the irreplaceable feeling of satisfaction that we did something important and did it so well.

I always feel regret when we take down one of our exhibitions. So much effort goes into them, and they become, for a while, such an integral part of the Museum. This weekend, I will feel not only regret, but a deep sense of loss. Thankfully, we can focus on the good prospect of Woman of Letters opening again (in a modified form) in Paris sometime in the future.

Julia!

Jonathan Wenk/Columbia Pictures

I saw "Julia and Julie" last weekend and was very moved. I suppose my reaction had much to do with my own relationship with Julia Child. I used to joke that I took Julia to bed with me most nights at college -- I meant the book, of course. I read both volumes cover to cover, and I cooked my way through most of the recipes. I also watched her various TV shows with rapt attention. My favorite was the Chicken Marengo show, when she butchered a chicken with a cavalry saber as she recounted Napoleon's victory in the decisive Battle of Marengo.

There is no doubt that memories of food and the social context of food -- preparing it and partaking of it -- are among the most potent that humans have. And I was reminded of this power as I reviewed the draft of a cookbook, Recipes Remembered, which will be published in association with the Museum some time next year. The author, June Hersh, interviewed a number of Holocaust survivors and others whose lives were disrupted by the Holocaust, and recounts their stories including one or more recipes of defining dishes. Altogether a charming project.

Getting back to the film. Meryl Streep's Julia is uncanny. She delivers a miraculous performance that captures Julia perfectly -- including Julia's saucy side. Streep is also a favorite of mine for many reasons, not the least of which is the magical job she did for us on our audio tour. She and Yitzhak Perlman accompany our visitors through the core exhibition with warmth and sensitivity.

Inglourious Basterds

Francois Duhamel/Courtesy of the Weinstein Company

We had a sneak preview of Quentin Tarantino's new film, Inglourious Basterds, last week at the Museum. The screening was introduced by Harvey Weinstein, and Tarantino hosted a Q&A after the film joined by Melanie Laurent, the female lead.

I will confess that I was nervous about this screening given the nature of our audience and the distinct possibility that some might have come to see the film thinking it was a serious movie about a serious history. Well, it's not. I had seen the movie several weeks ago in a mid-town screening room. It is, in parts, stunningly violent, and it departs from historical fact in both intended and unintended ways.

By now, most people are aware of its premise: a rag-tag group of Jewish soldiers are dropped into occupied France to kill --and scalp -- Nazis in dramatically violent ways. The denouement involves the kind of revenge that some people dream about: A movie theater filled with Nazi leaders and the German High Command that is.... well, I won't spoil it.

Now, we were careful to warn everyone about the explicit violence and the fantasy nature of the film, but nevertheless, as I scanned the faces of the audience as they arrived at the Museum, I was concerned.

My worries were misplaced. With one or two exceptions, the audience remained throughout the screening, and the general reaction to the film was overwhelmingly positive. I think Inglourious Basterds has every prospect of becoming a sensational success. It is brilliantly acted, with sharp and intelligent dialogue, and is chock full of subtle --and not so subtle-- film allusions. I also think that it will attract its share of criticism from those who will claim that it trivializes the Holocaust, champions revenge at the expense of morality, and devalues historical truth.

Harvey Weinstein anticipated such criticism in his introduction to the screening by saying the first words of the film are, "Once upon a time," emphasizing its fable-like character. And Quentin Tarantino responded to one critic during the Q&A by saying, "It's a war movie, dude." For my part, I am perfectly willing to suspend my disbelief -- and perhaps some of my better judgment -- in the face of such a thoroughly entertaining and well-made movie.


Quentin Tarantino, Rita Lerner, DGM, Ann Oster at the Screening
(Photo by Max Lewkowicz)

90th Birthday

Robert M. Morgenthau during WWII

I attended the 90th birthday party of our Chairman Robert M. Morgenthau last night. It was a wonderful celebration for family and friends. One guest remarked that Morgenthau was one of the few people he knew who had to leave work early to attend his 90th birthday. It is indeed remarkable that "the Boss" is still so active and engaged, not only in his day job as Manhattan DA, but also for the benefit of the Museum. Here is the toast I delivered at the party:

Judy and I are honored beyond words to have been invited to celebrate your 90th birthday with you. On behalf of all of my colleagues, I raise my glass to you, Boss, and convey a museum-full of good wishes and affection.

Your impact on all of us has been so rich and profound, it is no wonder that our next exhibition, opening on November 15th, will tell your story and the story of your family. We know that the legacy of public service that inspired you, and to which you have added so remarkably, will move and inspire our visitors as it has all of us.

Thank you for devoting so much of your precious time and prodigious energy to the Museum, thank you for your wise counsel, thank you for the example you have set for us all.

L’Chaim!

The exhibition that we are working on, The Morgenthaus: A Legacy of Public Service, will examine three generations of the Morgenthau family and their contribution to American life. With the help of Robert Morgenthau and his two siblings, Henry and Joan (both of whom were there last night), we have collected extremely interesting artifacts and stories. More about this wonderful exhibition later.

New Homepage Design for JewishGen

We launched a new design for the JewishGen website homepage this week in advance of the annual meeting of the International Association of Jewish Genealogical Societies (IAJGS), which opens this weekend in Philadelphia. If you haven't visited JewishGen, now would be a good time to try it. There is a special introduction for beginners, and the JewishGen FAQs offer a comprehensive guide to getting started with Jewish geneaology.

Officer Johns

(Note: This post was originally published on June 14th, but got lost somehow in the ether...)

Yesterday, I had just started my walk. I was in the City by myself (my wife was on an annual weekend retreat with her book group) and was looking forward to an uptempo crossing of the Brooklyn Bridge -- a route that offers a surprising incline and the most dramatic views of Brooklyn and Manhattan. As I was approaching J&R, the famous electronics retailer, with my head filled with the Philip Roth novel on my Ipod, I was startled by a hand on my back. I turned quickly to confront whomever it was who had invaded my personal space, and found myself face to face with the kind and funny Rabbi Katz from the Chabad in lower Manhattan. "Are you doing anything now?" he asked, obviously not thinking that my purposeful pace and deep, Roth-inspired concentration represented meaningful occupation. "I'm taking a walk," I replied, "heading for the Brooklyn Bridge." "I need you for a minion, " he told me, and so off we went to the Chabad's small room on the second floor of a nondescript building a block off of Broadway.

At the end of the service, during which I was given the honor of being called up to say a prayer before and after the reading of a portion of the Torah, Rabbi Katz spoke of the shooting at the Holocaust Museum in Washington. He spoke of the murdered guard, Stephen Tyrone Johns, and of his courage and of his status in the Rabbi's mind as a righteous gentile, who had given his life to save others.

Of course, Rabbi Katz was right. Officer Johns performed a heroic deed and quite likely helped save many lives. The shooting in Washington brought significant focus to our Museum as well. Local news focused on our institution and the security we had in place. My colleagues and I participated in more than twenty press calls and we were given broad coverage in the local broadcast media.

Our message was that our Museum has always had a high level of security. In the wake of the shootings, we have examined our security program and taken additional steps. We believe that a visit to the Museum is more important now than ever as a statement against ignorance and hate.