Here is the short biography of Lazar
Freed, in its English translation, as it appeared in Volume 3 of
Zalmen Zylbercweig's "Lexicon of the Yiddish Theatre":
Lazar Freed was born on 3 May 1888 in Minsk, White Russia. His
father was a merchant, who for a short time managed a soap factory
in Mir (Minsk Gubernia). His father
also used to lead services.
Freed learned in a Jewish
elementary school, a
yeshiva and attended a Russian progymnasium and
Zarchin's Yiddish-Russian school. For a short time he
learned in Professor Justinian's class in the Warsaw
Conservatory. As a youth he sang as an alto-soprano for
Israelke Minsker, Cantor Sirota in Vilna (conductor Leo
Loew) and also in other synagogues.
As a child of six he saw
theatre for the first time. He possessed a good ear for
tunes and an ability to copy voices. Living in the
neighborhood of a circus, he often would understudy
there.
In 1905 he began to act
professionally with A. G. Kompaneyets in Vitebsk, and in
the "German-Yiddish" operetta went through all the
troubles that are experienced by beginners. Several
months later he was brought to Odessa by Sam Adler,
where he began to act in greater roles, but he had to
work hard to change his Litvak dialect.
In 1908 Freed entered into the
Hirshbein troupe. Dr. A. Mukdoni writes in his memoirs:
"Of the people who made a good impression on us was the
then very young and shy Jacob Ben Ami and his constant
friend Lazar Freed. These are all the new people."
After the breakup of the
Hirshbein troupe, Freed played the "singing lover" parts in
various Yiddish operetta theatres. He received special
attention from the Yiddish theatre critic when he
acted in the European operetta, "Eva," in Warsaw's Elizeum Theatre.
In 1913 Boris Thomashefsky
brought him to America, where he acted in the National
Theatre in Dymow's "The Eternal
Wanderer," later in Thomashefsky's "The Lost Sheep," and in other troupes where he
created "Moshe der griner" by M. Goldberg.
"During his first years in
America -- writes Sholem Perlmutter -- Lazar Freed, who
possessed a lyrical baritone voice with a warm, hearty
tenor, acted in all the Yiddish operettas in which he
had, due to his sweet singing, very strongly took off
with the American audiences. Several years later
(1917-18 season), when Henrietta Schnitzer with Jacob
Ben Ami played in the "Garden Theatre" in Madison Square
Peretz Hirshbein's "The Idle Inn," Lazar Freed for the first time received his
redress, when he completely gave himself over to serious dramatic theatre in America."
In the 1923-24 season
Freed
joined the Yiddish Art Theatre (Director: Maurice
Schwartz). From then on in his stage career, with hardly
any small breaks, he was exclusively associated with
this theatre, with which he also traveled as a guest
actor in Europe.
In the "Art Theatre" in
which he held a prominent place, Freed especially excelled
as "Khanan" in the revival of the play "Dybbuk," as
Nathan in Zulawski's "Shabtai Tsevi," as "The Worker" in
Leivick's "Rags," "Der yetser-toyv" in
Goldfaden's "The Tenth
Commandment, or Thou Shalt Not Covet,"
Hershele Dubrovner" in the revival production of
Gordin's "God, Man and Devil," "The
Visitor from America" in Sholem Aleichem's "The Gold Diggers," "Der eydem"
and "Stempenyu,"
in Sholem Aleichem's "Stempenyu," "The Uncle" in
Feuchtwanger's "Jew Suss," "Joseph" in
Leivick's "Chains," "Aaron" in Asch's "Uncle
Moses," and as "Tehilim-yid" and "The Jewish Student
Shneyerson" in Sholem Aleichem's "[It's] Hard to be a
Jew."
However Freed created an
unforgettable image in the title role of I. J.
Singer's "Yoshe Kalb.' Jacob Mestel writes:
"His 'Yoshe Kalb,'
the outlandish shell of a wishful, wandering man, on
the border between two types of characters." This figure of "the
"pious simpleton"
made many contributions, that the play became so popular
and as such continued its permanent association with
Freed's name, that when Maurice Schwartz guest-starred
with the play across Jewish America (1933), and later in
Europe, Freed acted with him in the title role.
In the seasons when the Art
Theatre did not play in America, Freed was associated
with several other theatres. Thus during the 1931-32 season he
participated in the "Ensemble Art Theatre" where he had
(under the direction of Egon Brecher) acted in the role
of "Maharal" in Leivick's "Golem," and in V. Ivanov's "The
Armored Train" (directors Snegoff and Mestel.) In the
1939-40 season he acted in "Khaver Daniel," and in I. J.
Singer's "Khaver Nachman" (directors Ben Ami and Mestel.)
Freed also acted in several
films and sound films. While in Europe he was in a film
together with Libert and Regina Kaminska; in 1924 during the guest appearance of the Art Theatre in Vienna
-- in Sackler's "Yizkor" [1924]; in 1925 in
America (a Yiddish poet and detective) in "Salome of the
Tenements," then in the sound films "The Holy Oath,"
"Overture to Glory," "The Great Advisor"
[1940], and "Eli Eli" [1940] by Izidor Frankel, "The Jewish Melody" [1940] by Chaim Tauber, and "Love and Sacrifice"
[1936] by Isidore Solotorefsky.
Freed translated "Samson in Chains" by Leonid Andreyev and
"Mendel Spivack" by Semion Yushkevich (which
was staged during the 1926-27 season by the "Yiddish Art Theatre.")
In his last years, Freed due to
his severe illness (tuberculosis), he could no longer
act.
"...He has a face that
is not well-known -- according to the writer Sholem Perlmutter --
as serious as his illness was, it was because of this
very difficult and painful to explain to him that in all his virtues there
was no fault; as only his horrible illness was..."
After having been treated in
a series of hospitals and sanatoria in New York, Freed went
to California where he entered into the "City of Hope"
sanatorium, and there he passed away on 11 March 1944.
His body was sent back to New York where he was brought
to his eternal rest, in order to honor his last request
to "lie among his own."
Freed was married to the
actress Celia Adler. Their only son is Dr. Selwyn Freed.
About his activity in London
during the guest appearance of the [Yiddish] Art Theatre, Morris
Meyer writes:
"A performer who played with
fine nuances and moods was Lazar Freed. He was with
Schwartz in London three times. He acted very
impressively as Nathan Levi in 'Shabtai Tsevi.' He
embodied the mystic appearance of the prophet, who
flamed and burned from an inner ecstasy and ignited all
those who were around him with the fire of his ecstasy. His appearance
was filled with mellifluence.
"With great understanding he
played the role of Shneyerson in 'Hard to be a Jew,'
although some moments for him were weak.
"With great understanding he
produced in "The Seven Who Were
Hanged" the stoicity that related to the coldness and
philosophy of death.
"He acted with artistic
radiance in the fine role of Nahumtche, thereafter Yoshe Kalb. Lazar Freed is an intelligent artistic
personality, and the role didn't give him the
opportunity to extract the full measure. The role had few
opportunities to speak, but he acted in his silence. He
brought out much expression in his face and in his eyes.
How many mtushtsh'dikes and even how many
farnunft and psychological truths he
expressed. In the role Freed found beauty in the forms that he
could give. He also was successful as "Hershele
Dubrovner" in "God, Man and
Devil." He had profoundly brought out his struggle
with a devil. One could feel a poetic spirit in his
speech, and a specific fine mannerism one could notice
in his movements."
Jacob Mestel writes:
"Freed had a hard but
tender artistic human life on this earth. Artistry was
in his veins, which was awash in his blood and nerves....
He was well-versed in yiddishkeit, in Yiddish,
Russian and English literature. He had read a lot. ...
And nevertheless he had seldom employed his intellect to
act in a role. This incorrectness would say to you that
Freed thought of his roles. No, he had not 'created' his
roles -- he satisfied them. ... To fulfill a role
intuitively he reached the boundary of exalted actors'
art. In fact he almost always played one role -- for his
wonderful acting measures were played there before him:
The lyric baritone member of his voice, the
trouble-veiled dark eyes, the flexible rhythm,
until during the last day [of his] "youthful" body. Even
his prominent, semitic "Adlerian" nose had given
character to his stage figure. His strong 'genre' was
'fanatical mysticism': his 'Khanan' in 'Dybbuk', 'Natan Hanavi' in
'Shabbatai Zevi,' 'Hershele Dubrovner' in 'God, Man and
Devil,' 'The Uncle' in 'Jew Suss,' his 'Tehillim yid'
(in an arranged scene from Asch's work, in the Folks
Theatre) -- they all reach the heights with their mystical
farhoylung,
religious ecstasy, rancorous sorrow and pious confidence,
with which he always has -- [seen by] the actors on the stage, and
the audience in the theatre -- conquered and baroysht.
....With this he had limited
the tifazhn of his helpless people, the 'La
Yutslkhm': 'The
Worker' in "Rags,' 'Aaron' in 'Uncle Moses,' his 'Zaydl'
in '60,000 Heroes.'
"....Freed has had an
honest attitude to his stage work. Perhaps he did not
know many
"names" of stage directors, but he always
tried to walk on the marked-out
line. Rarely did his partner complain that Freed had
'spoiled' a scene. He used to keep himself honest, and
according to his powers also help his friends. We came
out to play a role with Freed -- 'Avraham Yakov' in 'Green Fields.' With all his poorly paid
opportunities for expression, he diligently
explained the scenes and situations to us, which might
help us carry out the role.
"....Did Freed die an
"abandoned" person? It seems to us that he alone had
created a kind of loneliness that had outlasted his
life. This is like lying in his personal identity.
For in his long and rich stage career -- which began in
his early youth while still in Europe, with the 'Ben hadorot,'
'Absaloms' and later the the Hirshbein
repertoire, until his 'Song of Songs,' 'The Lost Sheep'
and afterwards the artistic-dramatic repertoire in
America -- Freed had always found love and recognition
from the broad theatre audience, as with his
professional colleagues. Each artist felt happy with
such success -- Freed always remained a sad person. Not
having this gave him perhaps too few to satisfy. He
was never forced to make a being for his artistic
performance -- he was possibly too modest, too shy for such
pretenses. .... However there is somewhere in his soul
that laid a grief that had made him feel like an
orphan.
Social, almost always with a
smile, a sad smile, not infrequently even with humor --
he had, however, isolated himself, and he was closed in.
Nevertheless, even his laughter used to roll out like a
wave in a covered tone, with his hand in front of
his mouth. Something of a hermit, there was an ascetic monarch
that lied within him. His private life, possibly his
family life, presented a shock from which it was
difficult to receive oneself. And if he was tired
in those sleepless nights, he would seek comfort in a
book, [though] he had squandered his grief for entire
nights at the coffee table."
Sholem Perlmutter:
.... "His greatest pay was a
good critique and an evaluation of his acting, and for
his serious attitude to Yiddish theatre. He was one of
the beloved personalities in our theatrical world.
Everyone had love for him, and to us all he was a good
friend. ... Each issue in which it he been asked
to handle had interested him, and it soon became near to
his heart. And even when an issue came up that hadn't
affected him directly, he was always willing to help,
whether on a council or with thoughts. And therefore he
had in his last few years, be it that the cruel fate had
almost, as if by violence, expelled him from the
theatre, and he became a
lost
resident of the hospital, and in the sanatorium, he had
very many complaints about the theatre profession. He
also had complaints about his own people, friends and
colleagues, and for the entire world. It is perhaps
poetic that in his last few years that they did not give
him the proper attention, they did not give him enough
hospitality.
If one is not sufficiently sincere, even when they do a favor, he used to say -- it is not
with the entire heart.
.... Lazar Freed had in his
repertoire the important, prominent roles that were
created in the last years in the Yiddish theatre. And he
had created Jewish types of an eternal worth, and just as "Stempenyu," "Khanan," "Yoshe Kalb,"
also "Moshe der griner," which remains marked
in the memory of every Yiddish actor, and every theatre
lover. And every showman who wants at times to sit in a
theatre where that play will be performed, will before
his eyes continually float the image of Lazar Freed, who one
never wants to forget"....
N. B. Linder:
"Lazar Freed was the master
of bringing forth onto the stage with the
fullest
entirety of those chasing [something], troubled--always for
those people suffering from hard knocks, who speak little and suffers much. Very little
do Yiddish actors know such silence, and so masterfully
act silently, as those who have known Lazar Freed."
And Maurice Schwartz writes:
"Lazar Freed, Samuel
Goldinburg, Abraham Teitelbaum and now Izidor Casher!
These four actors were pillars of the Yiddish Art
Theatre. With their loss it is not possible to bring so
quickly onto the world stage, to Yiddish theatre, others
who may represent them...." |