In another episode
from those wandering years S. recalls:
"Sometimes we were a
troupe of actors in a city during winter nights.
We all remained seated in a station terminal
with our rags. The manager traveled about the
city to find a hotel or an inn for us. After
several hours he returned with nothing -- no one
wanted to admit any actors, and one of them even
cursed the actors. ...We were all strongly
frustrated, and they soon closed the station
terminal. ... And here there were small children.
...Suddenly the actor Fachler cried out to the
manager: "Give me the address of the hotelkeeper
(owner) who has cursed us." He disguised himself
like a merchant, chosen a few pieces of our best luggage, and a
second actor brought along two friends as his
attendants. The two actors hired a piker, who
traveled to the hotel and asked for two rooms,
large rooms, whichever were the largest, and that
these so-called merchants should be brought hot
samovars with side dishes, and they then
immediately sent for us in the station terminal.
We all came down into the hotel into the two
huge rooms. ...When the head of the hotel saw
us, his eyes became dark, and he would have
thrown us out, but he did not know the imminent
Russian law."
After an episode
that portrayed the material conditions of the
former itinerant trope, S. relates in his
memoirs:
"The town was called
Lukov. We arrived in the town as a troupe of
eighteen people playing theatre, and we
performed, entering an inn or a simple house.
...They had given us fine rooms. Midday time
they had prepared the table, a large, shared
table. They had prepared for a table for us
three times a day, and the gang hastened to eat
all the fine foods. It appeared that there
weren't any actors in the town previously,
because they treated us as true guests. In the
meantime we issued large posters, that on the
Saturday at night there would be a great
production, that we will play, "Khinke pinke." ...by
Thursday we already had taken in two hundred
rubles. From this we put down a deposit on the
posters, and the last of it we gave to the head
of the hotel. ...Friday we even added some
rubles, but on Saturday there was no money left
over... (Saturday for the production) we noticed that the
curtain on the stage would be appointed with two
zippers to the floor.
The audience in the
theatre was already restless. They clapped with
their hands, time had already begun, but we
didn't have the fifty rubles to pay for the
hall. ...In general, we came up with a plan --
one of the actors would come out from behind the
curtain and make an important "announcement,"
that the settings were not finished yet on time,
that we must save for the production until
Tuesday. All the tickets were good for Tuesday
night... We were sure that by Tuesday we would
have enough to
pay for everything... On Tuesday we already had
our disaster. We already saw that the production
would not be able to be performed because we
still didn't have fifty rubles to pay to raise
the curtain. ...The people who had (bought)
tickets, sat in the theatre, and one of our
actors sat at the (ticket) table and around him
stood a crowd of spectators that watched him, that maybe he
shouldn't run away. We then hired a large wagon
with two horses, which stood around one hundred
and fifty feet from the theatre, in the dark. We
already long ago had checked our rags out of our
hotel rooms and everything already was on the
wagon. All the actors already were seated in the
wagon. We only had to wait on our costumes ...I
had the job of getting involved with the public
(which had surrounded the cashier) in the
theatre, at the box-office table, that he
couldn't not run away. ...In the end I had to pierce through the public to the the
table and get out the kerosene lamp. In the dark
we both had to start running, and the entire
public with their tickets in their hands
followed us. We both caught up to the wagon,
which had moved, and the public had accompanied
us with high cries: "Bandits! Zhulikes!
Swindler!" So, is it a wonder that actors have
received a malignant name throughout the world?
Was it our fault? Was there no fault of guilt?"
The poet Z. [Zishe]
Weinper portrays the period as such:
"Menasha Skulnik has
not been received by the general public of the
Yiddish Theatre with the silvery trumpet in
their mouths, because he entered through a side
door, much more than his fellow players or
accompanists, and is among others a true performer.
Year-round he looked like a simple torchbearer
for other faces, for other steps across the
stage of Yiddish Theatre. For him it took a long
time to get the idea that he was intelligent enough,
evidence to
prove that, who has the value to become aware of
others.
True, he came to the
Yiddish Theatre from his earlier youth as a
child of a Jewish shopkeeper family;
felt greatly a boldness within himself to serve
the Yiddish Theatre as he had served his father
in his small shop, but the receiving him at the
former Yiddish theatre was not only the actor,
that one had seen in the young Jewish youth, but
due to his beautiful face and even his beautiful
soprano voice,
which comes out of the Jewish youth.
Menasha Skulnik quickly found a place in Yiddish
Theatre of Poland due to his beautiful soprano
[voice]. He was very useful in the chorus, and
because the subject matter of the Theatre was
felt very strongly in his heart, he also had
searched usefully to create his technique around
the stage. He had to create in his technique at
sites around the stage. ...The majority of
companies with which he worked during these
years were composed of quasi- and complete
dilettantes. An actor applied for this or that
role, and they were employed with whomever they
could. The young Menasha Skulnik sometimes was
used as a prima donna.
Small as he was, he
had a worthwhile weight, and there and an
excellent soprano too, and it was only for him
to be dressed in women's clothing, and he was
transformed into a complete prima donna. With
one word, Menasha Skulnik had begun at the
Yiddish theatre as a chorister, as a stage
technician, as a prima donna, but without the
slightest sign of it, that he puts on today
(written [in]1935) in the performing arts."
In order to avoid
military service, S. was smuggled across the
border to Krakow (Galicia, then a part of
Austria-Hungary), where he met a performing
troupe that didn't want to take him in, so he
went to Vienna and there put together a troupe
with three actors, [forming] a quartet, which
toured across Austria, Czechoslovakia,
performing in beer halls and bars, where they
would go around with a plate for their
"honorarium." From there S. traveled in
1913 to America.
|
In April 1913 S. arrived in
New York, where he visited his older brother, who was
entirely cold to taking him in. The next morning S. went
away to an actors' club, but not knowing anyone, and due
to his poor dress, he decided not present himself.
However, meeting his friend Harry Weissberg with whom he
had acted in Yiddish theatre in Europe, he joined
a Yiddish vaudeville house through him on Willett
Street, where S. became engaged by the director Bernard Elving for twelve dollars a week as an actor and stage
director. Here he debuted as "Ayzkl" in Moshe Richter's
"Hertsele meyukhes" and acted on Saturdays and Sundays
in the sketches, which consisted of "improvisations." In
the summertime he traveled to his sister in Albany,
where he became a "busboy" [assistant waiter] in a hotel, acted with
"amateurs" in "Brothers Lurie," and by this acquired a
great sum, and traveling back to New York he became
engaged by Mike Thomashefsky for his Arch Street Theatre
in Philadelphia, where the stage director Max Rosenthal
soon rewrote plays and roles for him. Performing in
small roles as a pitiful
"teacher" in "The Girl of the West," S. came on stage at
a certain time in a certain scene when the farmer, a
high burly man, wanted to hit an
orphan, to cry out, "Stop, you shouldn't stand up,"
which brought out laughter in the theatre, two
colleagues looking at the two opposing characters, but
that didn't matter to the co-director Anshel Schorr, who
maintained that S. had took part in the scene because
instead of weeping for the orphan, the audience laughed,
and S. didn't receive any more roles to play, and he
remained in the troupe as a role-writer, assistant stage
director, and very rarely did he play in small roles.
Indicating in his
autobiography that he spent six years in Philadelphia.
S. noted: |
By this time I had
wanted many times to give up the stage. I had
constantly thought that I was not born for the
stage as an actor. I completely lost my ambition
to play theatre. I hadn't seen any future for
myself as an actor. I even demanded from Anshel
Schorr, when it came time to restructure my
contract, that I should be the stage manager
[stage director] who would rewrite plays,
roles, provide it as a gift, only that my nose should
not appear on the stage. 'I don't want to be an
actor'--I told him. The roles that we tried to
play, they were not for me. It was 'upside-down;
or a policeman, a detective, or an evil
millionaire. In English they say the role is
"vacant"; in Russian, they call it
[timely]-roles. So it was really used to call
Yiddish. No actor had wanted to play the
"vacant" roles because it used to be a
humiliation for an actor to do this. I used to
do it. But I hadn't felt it, that I am [thereby]
an actor. ...Therefore I constantly thought that
perhaps I should go to school to learn a
profession, or open a small business, but it was
not for me. I never have been able to save a
little money through the season because from my
earnings, I had to send money to my wife in
Europe to live on. ... I had for an entire
winter paid bills that were incurred during the
summer, and when the season ended, I used to not
have a penny."
But a notice came from the Yiddish actors'
union,
that I should provide a fulfillment of six years
[of acting] for the exams, and they
should definitely perform for them in three
roles: "R' Akiva," in a scene from "Uriel
Acosta," "Motye Streichel" in "Chasia the
Orphan," and "R' Elie" in "God of Vengeance."
But here S. was
noticed by the Yiddish actors' union, that after
a period of six years he should undergo exams
that will consist of performances in three
roles: of "R' Akiva" in a scene from "Uriel
Acosta"; "Motye Streichel" in "Chasia the
Orphan"; and "R' Elie" in "God of Vengeance.
S. had to learn two of the
three roles, and he portrayed such an attempt for the
Actors' Union:
"When I was on the train
(from Philadelphia to New York), I knew the two roles,
even for the
[page 6063] greatest critic.
About the third role that I had to do, they said this,
that I had worked hard and hadn't any time to learn it
outright. "What is the difference?" I thought, they will
take me one by one. ..That day five people will make
probes. I would be the last. Each candidate had created three
roles. After each probe they would vote. The ballot is a
secret. Two-thirds are required to vote "Yes," against
one-third "No." It's up to the three hundred actors, and
for the two hundred and one needed votes, to vote "Yes,"
that the candidate should be taken in. Understand this,
that if no one hadn't received the needed votes (after a
great tumult in the hall, S. went on to perform the
scene from "Uriel Acosta") ... After a minute, in fact,
I was suddenly in a room. Somehow suddenly a great storm
of applause broke out, that
the walls actually shook.
Joseph Rumshinsky portrayed
as such this audition:
On that Monday five actors made their probe. Among them
was someone who had played theatre and was a "sure
thing." He was always at the theatre--a scene director
(sending out of the actors into a scene on time); stage
manager, publicity manager, [someone who] had often
faced a major move, at times acting in unimportant
roles, [was someone] who also wrote roles, as h at the
time was engaged in Philadelphia Yiddish Theatre [Arch
Street Theatre-- ed.], and yet on the same day he had to
travel from Philadelphia, having been given permission
to do so, so that he would be the first (?) of the five
new candidates.
It is not very
customary to make a probe for actors, especially
after knowing that it is to perhaps be arranged
for an older actor to star in, so that he could
make a living. When the chairman (the chairman
then was the president of the union, Jean
Greenfield) announced that the first to make a
probe would be the actor from Philadelphia and
called out his name, many asked out loud, "Who,
what is his name?" As I also had heard the
unknown name, they answered us: "Some
role-writer,
a scenario-holder, a
cake-eater." The candidate was to make his probe
from three various plays, in three various
roles.
When the unknown
actor demonstrated the role of "Akiva" in "Uriel
Acosta," in makeup, his mask of the old patriarch made a
great impression, and there became a dead silence. No
one had difficulty breathing, and when the unknown
role-writer had finished, it was like one presses
himself out into theatre language, a thunderstorm had
been dropped, and a proposal was made immediately that
they should not let him off [from undergoing] the two
other probes, over all protestations, because they
simply did not have enough of his good acting.
The second probe was
"Motye Streichel" from Jacob Gordin's "The
Orphan." Here already the locals reverberated
with hearty laughter, that the unknown actor had
evoked applause from the actors. The applause
was as great as it had been previously, and a
proposal again was made that they should let him
off from the third probe, because he is already
with us, so who needs to be tortured?, and again
one could hear hilarious protests: "No," because
the audience had simply wanted to be amused.
The third probe was
"Ali" from Sholem Asch's "God of Vengeance."
After the third probe the locals of the Yiddish
actors voiced the name of Menasha Skulnik, who
had been stumbled upon by the entire profession
as a literary actor who belonged in an art
theatre. He was very quickly engaged for the
next season in Schnitzer's Art Theatre, where
Ben-Ami, Schwartz (?), Rudolph Schildkraut and
others had played.
With the literary actor
Menasha Skulnik having the same effect on Professor
Bernardi (Rumshinsky recalls in detail how Bernardi, who
was an artist-pianist, had at one time played in a
vaudeville house. Playing with him, some things
happened, which have evoked laughter from the vaudeville
attendees, and from then on he became well-known as an
eccentric piano player, and always stayed that way.]
Then it happened with our Menasha Skulnik as a
character-actor in the drama and melodrama. Even in his
part in a classical production, such as "Uriel Acosta,"
Hirshbein's "[The] Blacksmith's Daughters," Nomberg's
"[The] Family," he sparkled in every supporting role and
the public reacted with every word and on every movement
that he had made. However, all of these secondary roles
did not satisfy him, and he was envious in the
recognized stars. His first lead as an
independent "star" was in "Getzl Becomes a Groom," where
he had drawn the attention of the entire New York
theatre public, even though they staged the play at the
Hopkinson Theatre. ..Even though Menasha Skulnik at that
time already was a big force among the Yiddish theatre
public, nevertheless he was not yet recognized as a
complete "star." He played with the Germans as a feature
actor, that is to say
as an important member in
the company, the well-known name as a permanent "star,"
it escaped him.
As to Rumshinsky's
portrayal of S.'s probe, Zalmen Zylbercweig
noted:
"Rumshinsky's report
is not enough when we compare him with the Bel
Dbrs [?] alone, with Skulnik's, which discounts the fact
that he had done probes for two roles, not
three, and that he was the last candidate that
day to make a probe, not the first, also not
chronologically S.'s theatre activities.
However, Rumshinsky's portrayal is very
characteristic for the situation, which used to
be created during the actors' probes, and the
voting, which had been heard during S.'s probe."
Z.
Weinper touches on the question, [about] when S.
came to his consciousness about his
opportunities as an actor:
"When
this occurred, when Menasha Skulnik had suddenly
discovered himself, what was the method that led
him from one success to another?
If you ask him he would tell you that his method
was inborn, what else? For many years he was
uncertain if his persona had any worth because
he was there in the provinces and therefore he
know that the audience in the provinces ate him
up with pleasure, whatever he performed. But
suddenly something happened with him, such a
thing that shook him up tremendously. And it was
the event that made him doubt his talent.
--It came across to
us like a miracle--Menasha Skulnik now recalls
about that event.
And the miracle
happened in eighteen nineteen at the
examinations, what he considered to be a great
collection of actors, in order to become a
member in the Actors' Union. In those years
there was admitted eight applicants for
examinations, and the only one who survived was
Menasha Skulnik.
--It was a true
slaughter. Seen people were rejected, and only
with me a miracle happened.
Menasha Skulnik even
now considers that this event was a miracle, but
the engagement with which the collected actors
had received their figurative sentence
nevertheless had an impact, that he should be
seriously trained.
--It was the first
time that I had begun to have faith that I am
something.
Nevertheless, after
the great success he had at the examinations in
the union, he had even indirectly
rejected/turned down an engagement that
Maurice Schwartz had asked him to join his Art
Theatre, having along with some faith in
himself, there was also an awful fear in him.
--Who knows whether I'm effective? Perhaps this
was just a coincidence?
In that year he went away to Boston, to his prior work
as a stage technician, where he had feared that for an
art theatre, he was still not mature enough for the Art
Theatre. Later, within a year, he already had developed
courage and became a member in Maurice Schwartz's Art
Theatre, but in the course of this the entire season, he
was not given any opportunities to appear, and the
season went away for him in vain. At first when he had
played with Rudolph Schildkraut, he had gained his
opportunity, and he drew strong attention from both the
public and the press."
S. decided that
he cannot destroy the impression that he had made at the
probe and spoke up, suggesting to become engaged as an
actor in Philadelphia and New York, and he went back to
Philadelphia with a decision never to play in New York.
From Philadelphia he traveled with his friend Harry
Weinberg to Detroit and decided to make a living as a
worker. In the span of ten weeks he went through various
"dark" jobs in about thirty factories, and then he
returned to New York, and for the season of 1918-1919
was engaged as a stage director in the troupe of Dinah
Feinman and Jacob Kalich in Boston. However, after
several weeks influenza broke out across America, and
the theatre had to close. S. was still there, "writing"
a play, "The Happy Jews (Di fraylekhe yudelekh)," which
was put on for his benefit (without his acting in it),
but soon thereafter he destroyed the play.
For the 1919-1920 season S.
was engaged to Maurice Schwartz in his "Irving Place
Theatre" (later called the "Yiddish Art Theatre"), where
he performed in episodic roles, and he performed due to
illness for the actor Gustave Schacht at his benefit, in
the role of "Avraham Gershoni" in Jacob Gordin's "The
Truth," S. had an incident with Schwartz, and as a
result thereof he quarreled there and received no more
roles to play.
For the 1920-1921 season S.
joined the "Garden Theatre" (called "Art Theatre"),
under the direction of Louis Schnitzer, who he played
together with Rudolph Schildkraut and other famous
Yiddish actors. About his playing there, according to
S.'s memoirs:
"The only one [in the
troupe] whom I am pleasing is Rudolph Schildkraut.
Schildkraut had made me a protege. I used to come to him
at his house. He taught me what to do on the stage.
Until then I did not like to see myself on stage with my
own face. I was able to get a heavy mask on my face,
such as a beard, grave wounds, in my hand I labored,
holding a stick or a tobacco box, or a handkerchief. Schildkraut gave me all the things that he had thrown
out. ..Until Schildkraut I had never in the theatre had
courage, or a compliment not given. "This role--he had
said--of Fallenberg was played by Reinhardt. But you're
getting a better actor such as Fallenberg. You going to
be a greater actor. Do not worry, do not miss out, throw
away the beard with the wigs. Play yourself, give
yourself to the public on the stage. Take each role, and
do it upon yourself. An actor, who doesn't have any
personality, should
disguise himself. However, you young, have personality,
and it is harmful to do it from under a mask. Give the
people ten percent, of the person you play, and ninety
percent of yourself."
S. participated in the
plays, "Tsuzeyt un tsuspreyt," "Eykele mazik" (for the
critique about his playing, see the history of the "New
Yiddish Theatre," Lexicon, pp. 6003-6030.)
S. summarizes this season
with these words:
"The 1919-1920 season was,
in fact, my spring season. By myself I had found and had
begun to have faith in myself. We were delighted with
serious theatre. We were pleased with the plays of
several giant writers, such as Shakespeare, Ibsen,
Dymow, Sholem Aleichem, and I had often wondered how the
"downtown" theatres, such as the National, People's,
Second Avenue, where they play operettas and musical
creations, still exist. I was certainly sure that the
popular theatres would close in a short time, because
the public was civilized, and they didn't want to
tolerate that sort of theatre, which they present
downtown."
However, in actuality the "New Yiddish Theatre" closed with its
serious repertoire, and the musical and melodramatic
Yiddish theatres were packed. Therefore, S. decided to
go along with the storm and became a comic in this
repertoire.
Not receiving any
engagements in any one of these theatres, and knowing
that he would specialize as a comic, S. familiarized
himself with the humor of the actor Jack Benny, Willie Howard, Bert
Lahr and Will Rogers. He did not leave any Broadway
production. At the time there opened a Yiddish theatre
with Boris Thomashefsky, whom directed Avraham Shomer's
play, "Hatikvoh." S. became engaged there, but after
several productions the theatre closed. S. decided to
apply anywhere to work, but he was called by Maurice
Schwartz for his "Art Theatre" to perform for the
departed Jechiel Goldsmith in the role of "Sender
Brinitzer" in Anski's "Dybbuk," but after several days
of playing, it was decided by the Actors' Union that S.
may return to the theatre, and S. begins to play various
roles across various Yiddish theatres, performing on one
evening in two of three theatres in various plays in
certain acts. At the same time he was, together with Berl Bernstein and Elias Rothstein, a partner to play
Sundays in the "Prospect" Theatre in the Bronx.
In 1921 S. also participated
in the only Hebrew productions, which the "Hebrew
Histadrut" had arranged. The plays, which were staged,
were "The New Ghetto" by Dr. Herzl, "Uriel Acosta" by
Karl Gutzkoff, "The Blacksmith's Daughter" by Peretz
Hirshbein, "Tarshish" by Itzhak Katzenelson, and "The
Family" by H.N. Nomberg. Breinin has written:
"Whoever says it, that there are no Hebrew actors in New
York, you should see Menasha Skulnik in "The New Ghetto"
by Reinhardt in Berlin, but to me he pleases me much
more."
S. became engaged for
Toronto (director--Avraham Littman, Isidor Axler and
Charlie Pasternak), and he participated in
the melodrama "An Eye for an Eye," in which he sang a
couplet and fell through with both singing and with
playing a comic role, copying other comics. However he
soon hoped to play "himself," not another, and in the
span of a very short time that he was there in Detroit,
where they played on Sundays, [he was] the darling of
the public.
Boaz Young writes about him
in his memoir book:
"The current great earner in
Yiddish theatre, Menasha Skulnik, had the opening play in Toronto, played a "fat role." The
main work consisted of singing and dancing with the
soubrette, and he is very courageous for the actors and
more to the public. The director has wanted to send him
away and write to the union, that they should send a
second for his position (it is clear that the fate of
many talented [people], that they should fail at their
first performance on the stage), but soon at the second
play in which Menasha Skulnik played a character-comical
role, they saw very much a new comic, a new Menasha
Skulnik ... I am still big with that, which I am
possibly the first to predict a great career in the
theatre."
His success is explained as
follows
"The real truth is that I
have found my way. During the season in Toronto I have
played in seventy-two various plays. I thought about
what my teacher Rudolph Schildkraut had taught me. I
have given the public seventy-five percent of "me," and
twenty-five percent to the role that I had played.
Naturally, when I had played an old person, I had white
hair. If I had played a religious Jew, I would have worn
a beard, but I continually saw that the audience should
know me. My personality has dominated every role. The
well-known populous that I had created this season in
Toronto..."
Menasha
Skulnik in
"A Faraway Corner" |
|
In the season S.
also played in the repertoire of guest-starring
Samuel Goldinburg, and in a series of Hirshbein
plays. Finding out that in New York there was
guest-starring the Moscow Art Theatre, and S.
ended the season by traveling to New York to see
the troupe act and befriended the most important
members.
From here
S. toured with the "Art Theatre" across the
province, playing the role of "Soloveitchik" in
Sholem Aleichem's "The Big Winner," and was
stiffly received by the theatre attendees in
Toronto.
He decided then to
partner with his brother-in-law and
sister-in-law Misha and Lucy German for the
1924-1925 season in Toronto, as he lived with
the terrible disappointment with his
partnership, and for the coming season of
1925-1926 he became a partner with Jechiel
Goldsmith and Isidore Hollander in Montreal, as
they were in the meantime playing a lighter and
end-of-the-week literary repertoire. |
During the 1925-26 season, S. became engaged in
Philadelphia's Garden Theatre (under the direction of
six bosses: Max and Sabina Rosenthal, Louis and Mina
Birnbaum, Sh. Steinberg, Nellie Casman). The season
ended with the guest-appearance of Boris Thomashefsky.
During the 1926-27 season, S. was engaged for Chicago
(director Elias Glickman), in the Folks Theatre. When he
traveled to Detroit, S. was feted with a banquet,
which his friend Harry Weinberg had prepared for him as
a surprise.
As a star in Chicago Yiddish Theatre, Michal Michalesko
engaged S. in the role that S. had [once] received
there, it was a little something, but thanks to the good
will of Michalesko, there began there the change in S.'s
career in America.
According to S. in his memoirs:
"When at the first probe there was heard the reading of
the play, I was not so good in the heart. Chicago is a
big city. Chicago has... I saw the great actors. The
great comics had even played there. They [the audience]
were understood. The role of mine which I had to figure
out, I did not know what to do, I did not realize that I
wasn't happy. A happy Jew who makes himself crazy, a
whole without character, a love and a life. An
antagonist role,
a human being who goes around with an automobile horn in
his hand and holding in one's bubbles. It isn't comical.
[The famous Jewish-English comic] Harpo Marx used the
tone in vaudeville throughout the year. Why should the
audience say that I'm doing Harpo Marx? I have had a
talk with Michal Michalesko. He gave me justice, and he
had permitted me to rewrite the role, to put a comic
dialogue with a situation. ...From there on I began to
virtually rewrite every role, which I had played in
Chicago. The plays, which Michalesko has acted in, were
specially written for him. The secondary roles were very
blase roles, and the comic roles were foolish, sheepish,
antagonist, roles, but as the plays were musical, it was
the place and time to write comical situations and
dialogue. I had taken from my "notebook."
When I decided to become a
comic, i bought a big, thick "ledger" book. I began to
make notes of everything in it, which made people laugh.
There were written jokes, threads, strikes, rhymes, wise
sayings idiomatic words.
when I used to, for example, see a motion picture
(film), and I heard laughter in the theatre, I used to
note this and that wisdom brings
laughter. Or when this and situation, and you turn your
head and get a look at the striking man, evoked laughter. If you fall and sit down on the
ground, you lift your head slowly, and give a look here
and there, laughter breaks out. ...I had noted each
notion, each idea, both when I was in the theatre, as in
vaudeville, as when I had read a book in Yiddish or in
English. ...In Chicago there is my collection, which was
very useful. I used to rewrite and make better each role
with acceptable
prose and comic dialogue. This my dear gave me much distress in the later years. The writer,
who used to supply librettos for the music comedies,
used to write nothing for me. That is used to come to my
performance, they used to leave behind five or six empty pages. Here's here--they use to
say--'Menasha will now write something.'
,,,In the province each
actor used to have a benefit. These evenings the actor
used to play his "successful" role. ...When it used to
come to my benefit, I never had any "best role." That
said, I had many roles, but a main role ...I didn't have
that play.
S. recalls exactly what
happened then, as soon as the playwright William Siegel
passed through Chicago, which later sent for him for his
benefit, which had later sent for him for his "benefit,"
the melodrama "The Green Bride." S. rewrote, on my way,
the main dramatic role, and from the melodrama it became
a comedy, and so a musical comedy, "Der groyser fardiner
(The Big Shot)" was created. The same thing happened
with S.'s other roles in Michalesko's repertoire.
After the season, the
director Elias Glickman worked out a plan for playing in
Hollywood in the "silent films." A "test" was made
(probes), and it was going successfully, but suddenly
"talkies" came out (talking films), and nothing came of
the entire plan.
For the new season S. joined
the "Liberty" Theatre in Brownsville, New York, under
the direction of Anshel Schorr. For the benefit there S.
readied himself to stage the comedy, "The Big Shot,"
whose third act he split and left himself to rewrite a
third act for the melodrama writer I. Solotorefsky. The
play pleased, and the press had said very good things
about it.
Dr. A. Mukdoini writes:
..."I saw the actor Menasha
Skulnik for the first time, and I owe a debt of
gratitude to this talented actor. In the operetta he
plays a comical role of a very unlucky person [shlimazl]
furrier-cap maker, [and] I must say that I have until
today not seen on our stage such a unique comic. He is a
very different type. He is comical and without compare,
something of a strange depression fall upon him in his
comedy. He begins to laugh, and at the same time he
grabs hold of your heart. His comic bits can cut into
you, fat, truly to grab hold at the same time lifted up
with a separate purity and refinement. A pair of
unfortunate eyes that are naive and helpless. An
unpleasant sight has this furrier-cap maker, they are
trembling and incompetent. The furrier-cap maker makes
two or three gracious movements. He takes hold of his
hat and puts away something in a very curious way,
with his hand into his
breast pocket, and with these smart, concerted
movements, you have an entirely new figure.
Menasha Skulnik is more than a talented actor.
...With a unique sharpness, and with a great original
expressiveness. He should be our welcome guest.
For the first time in my
life I have seen this type of comic. You begin to laugh,
and at the same time you are afraid to cry.
N. Buchwald writes:
"For his evening-of-honor in
the Liberty Theatre they had the not-so-well known, but
the very good comic Menasha Skulnik select a series of
custom piece to do ...One of the hundred other
pieces... from the Yiddish theatres, it nevertheless was
an unusual production, because Menasha Skulnik has shown
a miracle of creating gold from mud. Skulnik
himself, as we say, created a role. He edited
and worked, so that he can appear at his best. It is of this kind of plays,
when we play, no blood runs. ...The thing is called, 'The Big Shot,' and
here Skulnik plays the role of a good-hearted human
being, an American employee... When you analyze Skulnik's acting, you see that he has studied a lot from
the great comic of our time, Charlie Chaplin. He doesn't
make like Chaplin, but he has borrowed the "key," the
tone of acting. Not in the manner one recognizes from
the Chaplin style, but in that spirit, and in the soft
opposition that illuminates the unsuccessful and
illustrates the fool. Often times he created grotesque effects
and grotesque pieces, exaggerated poses and good moments...
Skulnik never rejected this small human
being.... In turn, through actorial means he brings out
and stresses the humanness... It is a shame that such an
actor should move forward with great troupes and play
the dark years knowing that. ...Under a good stage
director Menasha Skulnik was a big winner for the
Yiddish theatre."
In the summer of 1928 S.
toured with a production of Joseph Schoengold, who was
to guest-star in Argentina. Here S. continued to revise
his play, "The Big Shot," in which he needed to perform.
Gaining courage from Schoengold, S. writes to texts the
comic roles in the play, and that he should play with
him for the ten weeks, guest-starring, which resulted in
a very great success.
L. Melakh writes about
Argentina:
..."You come to gossip ...
The character-actor... Menasha Skulnik. Abraham Reyzen
had told me that I should unconditionally go, do not
hesitate, not pure art, but Skulnik has evolved. His
face is indeed blessed. He plays with every expression,
with every face and movement. His eyes speak for him.
His voice, his pace and forward movements-- is always
with laughter. Not that laughter that evokes a tickle;
no, he is blessed with some unique talent. He is filled
with humor, with a popular appeal. It knows from him
such a humility and sincerity, not looking on the
inherent cliches and character of the play, I
nevertheless became contented with the entire production
...I have only regretted that some performers "break
their tongue" in the cheap melodrama ....I
am jealous of what you are going to do, Skulnik, for a
piece of time ...He is one of us..."
Jacob Botoshansky writes about S.'s debut:
..." The comedy would have been a malicious half-comical
story...but for a story it is too crafty, and for a
comedy too primitive ...and the talk-- oy, the talk! Not
popular, not literary, but nothing good. However should
I become Kalmanowitz and Siegel, that Menasha Skulnik
alone is a beautiful, hearty comedy, a comedy with a
whine ...and when Meansha Skulnik would not have been a
comedy, they would say that he did a good Charlie
Chaplin and even Keaton,
but would not such
hearty laughter and not so seductive... The audience
laughed more from the movements, as from the words. Once
again it appears that the main comedy was Skulnik. ..He
also says couplets--that is to say he sings them. For
the sake of wit, he makes a circle and comes around as he
declaims with music, and he says
briesh
with
brishe
nuances and intonations...Incidentally,
I don't know how far Menasha Skulnik's popularity goes
in North America, but if he will be with a second
production not disappointed the hopes of the first [?],
that there will take place with him take the same thing
that happened with Molly Picon, who is went off to
Europe as an unknown performer, and has herself returned
to America....world-famous. With Skulnik the same story
will happen. He will indeed become a big shot in every
detail, an earner of money and triumph. I wish he would
look for a better repertoire. The audience should takes
whatever, with good things too..."
Returning to America, S.
became engaged to his brother-in-law, Misha German, in
the "Folks" Theatre in New York, which opened with
Libin's play, "New Melodies [Naye nigidim],"
which played for some weeks and then produced Harry
Kalmanowitz's play, "The Eternal Mother," in which S.
played the role of a bokher [student], a "loser," who receives from a marriage broker a forgotten ole
maid. The role had nothing to do with the handling of
the play, but it was necessary for her to use some
comical "tricks" (kuntsn). Doing this, S. in the
role had a great success. In the summer S. performed in
English in the vaudeville houses of R.K.O., in a sketch
by Samuel Schiffman, which he also had adapted for his
character and played him throughout New York, Baltimore
and Philadelphia.
In 1930 S. traveled, for the
second time, guest-starring in Argentina, together with
his wife, Sara (see "Lexicon," pgs. 1539-40), where he
again began with his "Big Shot," and then he played in
other plays, with which he also toured across the
Argentinean province. This journey is very
characteristic of the style of playing Yiddish theatre
across the Argentinean province. S. describes the
production thus:
"The theatre where we had
played was newly built. It was a hall with a stage, and
all around it were windows. The entire theatre was sold
out, and the cowboys, who could not find any places in
the theatre, sat on their horses. Their position (shtelung)....could be seen through the windows. At each window a
cowboy stood with a horse. They had all paid for
tickets. There we played for an entire week, six shows,
and they used to watch the production on their horses
through the window.
We had to travel
to some towns in a bus, because their weren't any trains
to take us there. We remained in the middle of the
field. It wasn't any type of a village, only a large
part with a building, a stall, "what have we left
there?"--I asked., and they answered: "Here it is. Here
we play today!." "Who will come here to the theatre?"--
I answer, and the answer is: "You will soon see," and I
see as, with their hand they dig a little hole in the
earth, insert a stick of dynamite, and out comes a great
noise. This was the sign for twenty miles around, that
the actors were here, that today we play theatre. ...In
the evening the horses begin to arrive, and wagons with
entire families. On the horses were seated the young
seated men, and in the wagons were seated the wives with
the older men. The stall, where we had played in, was
packed, but when we finished the production, there was
such a huge rain, exactly like it is in the tropical
countries. The audience was not able to go home until
the rain would pass, they came to us and asked if we
would play (right away) another performance, naturally
another play. They all paid for a fresh ticket, and we
put on another production. ...Chone Gottesfeld's
"Parnose (Income)."
S.R. [Shemu'el
Rozshanski] writes:
"Menasha Skulnik, the talented character-comic, who had
become acquainted with him as part of the Buenos Aires'
theatre attendees, debuts today in the evening in the
Excelsior Theatre ...Skulnik's actorial power lies in
genius. From the first until the last act he doesn't
leave his role, which he plays, even when they applaud
him and he needs a "bis"; he does not touch far
away from the type. Here lies his artistic method, which
he needs, even in serious plays ...a great actorial
power with which he evokes in the greatest mass comedy,
this is in the steps. Skulnik allows me more easily to
feel comfortable, almost always, just as they wanted to
do something extraordinary, but soon they hit the track,
stayed stuck somewhat unconscious, something similar to
that of a young man. Skulnik has a special power, his
singing, not singing, only saying a song ...from
his
his taking seriously each
joke of the Tamimut, and convictions
the laughter grows out, and the character ...with one
word--gesture [zhest], mimicry and words pour out
together, and through them create for Menasha Skulnik
all of his heroic heroes ...not any great research, but
a sensual human, thrilling and tedious in their
limitations."
Tsu zayn ernavnt was
said in the "YYidishe tsaytung":
..."In Buenos Aires Skulnik
had a great number of patriotn [fans] among the
the theatre audience. They not only had him. One did not
just gladly greet him, but also love, and not in vain.
He deserves this. Menasha
Skulnik is a sincere actor. The stage gestures that he
creates exist together with a unique character, voices--
good-natured...humor and more of everything-- popularity ...Skulnik
is a master of dribble character features. One sees step
by step that it is an artist with a sharpness of temper
and talent. A remarkable temperament, which he uses to
make his roles more personal, which are realistic, and
this stronger realism, humor and comical aspect in which
Menasha Skulnik is rich, makes it interesting,
entertaining and lovely these types that he creates."
S. returned to America
through the efforts of Reuben Guskin, the manager of the
Yiddish actors' union, was engaged for Detroit to
[Avraham] Littman, for the first time as an
"attraction." Thanks to the effort of his friend Harry
Weinberg, who arranged an interview for him for English
radio, and publicity in the English and Yiddish press, a
performance in a big nightclub, the joining in large
Yiddish organizations. S. played in Detroit instead from
two to four weeks.
For the 1930-1 season S.
became engaged in the newly built Rolland Theatre in
Brooklyn, New York, where he participated in unpopular
comical roles for which he had to write more of the
texts, until he performed with Berta Kalich in Abraham
Blum's "I Want a Child," in which S. came upon a new
idea that in his female partner (Mae Schoenfeld) should always repeat the last word from his
representation, and he regrets it with his intonation,
evoking strong laughter. This "trick" is later continued
as a people's joke by the theatre attendees.
S. continued to be engaged by his brother-in-law Misha
German for the "Folks" Theatre (1931-23), with the
efforts to become announced immediately with him and
Lucy German. The season began with Kalmanowitz's play,
"Such is Life," and then with his play, "In a Tenement
House." The season was "torn" partly due
to the repertoire, partly due to the crisis that broke
out over the country, and the troupe had to leave the
cooperative foundations, and after acting for several
weeks across the province, S. was kicked out of the
troupe.
Seeing S. play in the Folks
Theatre, the writer and radio star Gertrude Berg became
interested in him, and she engaged him to participate in
her radio program, "The Goldbergs," and since then, the
summer of 1932, S. performed there four to five times a
week in the span of fifteen years, playing the role of
"Uncle David." On the proposal of the actor and theatre
director Samuel Lowenfeld, S. put together his own
troupe with with he played on the weekends, at sold-out
houses, "the Big Shot" in the Lyric Theatre, where he
became, for the first time, announced as the star, and
he soon thereafter became engaged with his troupe by
Oscar Green for his Hopkinson Theatre, where S. played
for six weeks to sold-out houses and became through him
engaged for the coming season as a partner in the
Hopkinson Theatre.
For the 1932-1933 season S.
opened with "Shlumiel" on October 31 in the Hopkinson
Theatre, which Israel Rosenberg had dramatized from a
novel (H. Kalmanowitz gave it to him as his own play.)
S.
writes about it in his memoirs:
"It was a nice one, an
ideal, satirical comedy with fine roles for everyone.
Yablokoff had sung such fine numbers. Bella Mysell had
sung a number that Olshanetsky had specially written for
her. Also Yetta Zwerling and the others had had good
roles. I was very pleased for the fine troupe of mine.
The critics came and wrote: "So, what is this? One
swallow doesn't make a summer." That said, they praised
me, here there is only one good actor on the stage. This
caused me to slow down and I was very angry. This means
that I have strove to put together such a fine group of
actors, and they play everything so well, and they had
fine roles, and they, the critics, do not find the need
to be good about them? And how to tell them that it is
only here that is one actor on the stage?!" |
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L. Fogelman writes:
..."The shlumiel is Menasha Skulnik. The audience is in
love with him and calls him by his first name,
"Menasha." He becomes to our Yiddish audience a kind of
Charlie Chaplain, and just as Charlie Chaplain with his
hartn papelushl, with his extensive pants, with his
big shoes, and with the cane in his hand evoke a warm
and happy feeling, so also is our Menasha Skulnik for
our audience, who the audience wants to strongly laugh
at in the theatre, but at the time when in the comic
Charlie Chaplain there is something hidden and
inevitably grieving, that looks out from his entire
gesture, and from his big, sad eyes, one fills up with
Menasha Skulnik only the tormented, foolish shlumiel,
who evokes laughter. In truth, Skulnik almost always
plays the same type, and with the same actorial
resources. How many times have I seen him on the stage,
and for me every time there are the same gestures. He
does not even grudge a diverse way. He wants that I do
not want to ask every single day, because he wants to
know, to play every time only the one-and-only role, the
role of the shlumiel, but notwithstanding this,
the audience maintained themselves in one laugh from his shmendrik shlumiel. Playing together with Skulnik
shouldn't be very convenient for the other actors. he
diverts the entire attention to himself, and with his
comical gestures that he uses for the other types in the
play. Incidentally there already are the plays, which he
plays in, so tailored that the other actors have
virtually nothing to do on the stage. They only act with
him, nothing more..."
The two plays, which S. had
staged this season with "Getzl Becomes a Bridegroom," a
musical comedy by Israel Rosenberg and Isidore Friedman,
which played an entire season, then in the Prospect
Theatre in the Bronx, and on a tour across the United
States and Canada.
For the 1933-34 season, S.
opened the Hopkinson Theatre with the operetta, "Yoine
Seeks a Bride" by Isidore Friedman. The subject was a
free adaptation of Bernard Shaw's "Pygmalion," in the
manner of "My Fair Lady," and after the season S., with
his play, guest-starred in the McKinley Square Theatre
in the Bronx to sold-out houses In the season here were
also staged Isidore Friedman's "An eydem oyf kest"
(music by Benjamin Blank), which later became staged
under the name of "The Straw Soldier."
In the summer of 1935 S.
went again to Argentina, where he could play in another
theatre, for the first time with Ludwig Satz, and there
he continued to perform on, first of all with "The Big
Shot," and there was staged in the span of fifteen
weeks: "Getzel Becomes a Bridegroom," "Ay eydem oyf
kest," and "Yoine Seeks a Bride." Then S. guest-starred
for three weeks in Montevideo [Uruguay], and gave ten
productions in Rio De Janeiro and San Paolo.
In 1935 S bought Israel
Rosenberg's dramatization of Isidore Friedman's novel,
"A Year Between Life and Death," and looked for a
theatre in New York where it it could be staged, but the
season then was very bad, and S. wasn't able to obtain a
theatre, and he toured for four weeks, guest-starring in
Detroit, and for six weeks at the Arch Street Theatre in
Philadelphia, and he ended the season with his
brother-in-law Misha German in the Parkway Theatre with
Friedman's play, "The Straw Soldier" (songs by Isidore
Lillian, and music by Medoff.) The success was so great
that Lifschitz, the owner of the Folks Theatre (New
York, 12th Street), got it ready so he could accept it
for the new season, (1936-37), and when Joseph
Rumshinsky came to him with the same suggestion, they
both became partners and opened the season with Louis
Freiman's musical comedy, "Fishl der gerotener."
In this play the words "I
like soup," became very popular [I have love for soup],
which S. often had used in the play, and year long then
joined the audience. The play was produced in New York
for thirty-six weeks, daily, and then several weeks
across the province.
Hillel Rogoff writes:
..."The role of the
adolescent Fishl was played by Menasha Skulnik, and I
cannot say that he is getting out of it [er nemt
shtark oys]. Skulnik is one of our best comics. He
also possesses a special talent of singing comical
lyrics. In the play Rumshinsky provides him with two
songs, which take the house by storm..."
William Edlin writes:
..."not for no reason id Menasha Skulnik create a large
audience in Brownsville... He is a people's comic, an
artist who uses the entire process to complete and to
play comedy. The audience understands him well and
delights in all his needy style.
....., in "Fishl der
gerotener (Lucky Fishel)," he had every
opportunity to show the audience on the brighter
theatre avenue of New York, from which for a
special purpose art has to be cohabitated. I
laughed, as everyone knows, very stunned, one
can just stop at the theatre without a limit
...the walls shake themselves. Every word
brought out from the people's comic's mouth was
signal for laughter. This not mean anything
precisely, that from Skulnik's mouth there fell
out such pearl-like jokes... Many of the words
had already a little beard on them. But these
are the worst they have to take the correct toll
on the audience, appearing on his motives. When
Skulnik speaks out a little in his half-witted
style, it is unfair that such a talented actor
loses so much money (or: Where he speaks to them
on his motives, it's a bit disgusting that such
talented actors leave so much.) |
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This is partly his acting
ability. In the moment when he plays theatre and shows
off some flash from very fine actresses, which S. alone
would give greater opportunity to come up with the
expression..."
Menasha Skulnik and Joseph
Rumshinsky, the new partners in the Yiddish Folks
Theatre, were a fortunate and clever pair. They have been
engaging in publicity with a very friendly, very
sophisticated audience ...musical comedy... Here it is
altogether noble. I thought of many earlier
operettas. There he had taken the entire operetta style
for himself ...However, here he only took for himself a
piece... and so many of us won, because his industry is
good only in small parties ...in the operetta Menasha
Skulnik, the eternal shlim-mazl ... Menasha
Skulnik's shlim-mazl is pathetic, he is honest
Menasha Skulnik's shlim-mazl, is often
tragi-comical ...Menasha Skulnik's Fishl in the operetta
is about whom he speaks, is more concentrated and
therefore is sharper and significant. His large
calf-like face, his innocent eyes, his sleepy walk,
and his unaffected movements with his hands, with this
he found the correct theme. In the meantime, Skulnik's
Fishl is worn out. And therefore Skulnik's
shlim-mazl earns a better end..."
Moshe Nadir writes:
..."Our old, well-known 'Fishl der gerotener,' is a little more or less
talented... Menasha Skulnik's "shlumiel," is
probably today the "king toy"
of Second Avenue-teshl with worn-out tickets. In
"Shlumiel" Skulnik has transformed the Second Avenue
operetta from the former cheap vaudeville to more
modern, more precious "new club," "smart" (wise) in
appearance, inventive in tricks (ingenuity) ...less
moralization ..."Shlumiel" has overridden the last
barrier between Broadway and Second Avenue...
Skulnik must count on the
flavor of "folksiness" ...Skulnik in his "Shlumiel," as
in his "Fishl," has with his appearance mass-sense
appears that it addresses....is not inaugurated for the
masses of Yiddish theatre goers ...Skulnik gives the
most public in process, when the raw gold is mixed with
mud and sand ...Skulnik's humor is not refined ...the humor of
someone who day after day becomes more further into the
past. Menasha Skulnik's pitiful demeanor to the unhappy
fool with the soul of a Jewess where he alone talks
through the window with his neighbor about their
troubles is such a wonderful miniature of dried clay,
that she causes you to want to lend him without
interest, your eyes and your ears upon which a third of the hour
offends the spirit. ...It is like a pleasant
headache, a simkhas-torah at night, after you have gone
around too many processions, and too much hanging around
the bottle of liquor.
The second season (1937-38)
opened with "Senior Yosel" [Senor Hershl?-- ed.],
which lasted for several weeks, and then they staged
"The Galician Rabbi," by L. Freiman and Sh. Steinberg,
where the couplet, "Oy shloymele, oy malkele" became
very popular (music by Rumshinsky), which S. sang, and
since then it was sung and performed at Jewish "simkhas
(joyous events)" across the world. The play was produced
the next season, and then across the province, including
on a weekend at the Chicago Metropolitan Opera House,
which accommodated 5,000 attendees for each performance.
And about S.'s playing in
the Folks Theatre, Joseph Rumshinsky writes:
"Not only had the general
Yiddish theatre audience picked up our first production
in the Folks Theatre in the musical comedy, "Fishl der
gerotener," where the "gerotener" was
glaykh
arumgefaln, and it simply became "Fishl,"
which the critics--both the Yiddish and the
English--received it with open arms. There was felt a
freshness of both the production, as well as of Louis
Freiman's light and elegant text, and also from the
swing music, which was
played by my women's
orchestra. All together it demonstrated that through our
union, the comedy, especially the musical comedy, had
received a new repair.
And so Menasha Skulnik had
increased from day after day. He became the greatest
darling of the Yiddish theatre audience. We then went
over to a larger theatre, to the Second Avenue Theatre.
For the 1938-39 season, the
two partners, S. and Rumshinsky, in the Second Avenue
Theatre, they opened with "Yosl and his Wives," by L.
Freiman. The audience called itself
shvak ap, and
they brought the actor and playwright Itzhak Nozyk over
from Tel Aviv to perform in his revision. However,
nothing became of it and it barely made it through the
season Then there was staged the play, "The Happy
Village," by I. Friedman and under the direction of I.
Rosenberg.
Soon after the season, S.
went off to guest-star in Argentina, where he performed
in the Excelsior Theatre. S. portrayed along with it, an
interesting episode with the actor Abraham Morewski, who
at that time also came to guest-star in Argentina.
"Morewski sat in the first
loge, which is almost half on the stage. I had a
dramatic scene for which the audience in the theatre to
plotz with laughter. ...the theatre stormed with
laughter and in the middle of my speech, my eye fell
upon the loge, and I saw as Mr. Morewski sat with his
hand retracting his face, with a finger on his furrowed
brow. There was no smile on his face. He sits as
he would be listening to somebody's aptly philosophical
referendum. I am angry. He is nevertheless a performer!
Meaning he is nevertheless a theatre person!, as he can
sit so indifferently and be angry?! What am I playing
here--a social-psychological drama? I nevertheless play
comedy. ...and here a man such as Morewski sits for me.
He sits as if he is Rodin's famous statue, "The
Thinker," and he sits virtually on the stage and folds
the stars. I speak my role. I am angry. The audience
laughs deeply without end, and at times I am angry."
S. went on that the theatre manager should exploit
Morewski from the loge, but the theatre manager said,
"It's up to you to do that." S. came over to the
production and after the end came to him in the wardrobe
room.
"He embraced me. He did not listen to me, and
kissed, and kissed me without end, and he cried
enthusiastically:
--In my entire life I had
never seen such wonderful acting from an actor. When I
did not know that your name is Menasha Skulnik, I would
swear that Koklen stands there before me.. Have you
nevertheless ever seen Koklen act? --He asked me.
--No, I said, I know that
Koklen was the great French comic. But unfortunately I
have never seen him.
And he swore that I am like
a twin brother to Koklen, my appearance, my every
movement of the shoulder, my attire, everything reminds
him of Koklen, and he was sure that I copied the
well-known, great French comic.
--No, I assured him, I never
saw Koklen, and I never copy anyone, and I recall how
angry he had made me in my playing with his analyzing of
me. He declared to me again that he was bigger than I
was in my comedic situations."
Stopping himself on the way home, in Rio De Janeiro, S.
also performed in a concert, together with the actors
Irving Jacobson and Mae Schoenfeld, who also were
traveling back from their guest appearance in Argentina.
Here Abe Ellstein became
engaged in the theatre as a composer, and with his music
there was staged there Isidore Friedman's "The Straw
Soldier" (built on "Bravn soldat shveyk"), where
in the second act S. had to come up with a parachute,
which broke over him. S. became wounded, and he had to
be taken to a hospital, where he spent five weeks, and
in that span of time his part was taken over by Leo
Fuchs. Then the play with S. was staged in Philadelphia,
Boston and other cities.
The theatre again was taken
over by William Rolland. S. remained there to perform.
At the same time he performed for several weeks in the
nightclub, "Martinique." About this he writes in his
memoirs:
"To us the nightclub was not too much for me, because I
was afraid to amuse people who were screaming a little,
or a lot. I was afraid to perform for people who were
not coming to see me, but they were very well coming for
other purposes, and I was not happy. Perhaps when I had
to do this to make a living, I would have done it
exactly like all the other "entertainers," but I had not
needed to. I had the theatre. I was wrapped up in the
theatre. I had also played in television, on radio, and
in a motion picture, and now a nightclub. But to me the
theatre feels the best. In theatre the audience is
prepared with prior tickets. They come to the theatre
with one purpose--to see a production. I play for sober
people, not when the waiter goes around and carries
plates with what to eat, or meat with grease. I love my
work in theatre. I love to be on a theatre stage for an
audience every night of the year. I am accustomed to my
entire life, and when I don't hear the laughter and
applause of the public, I feel that it's missing
somehow, and nevertheless I would rather sit idle than
perform in a nightclub."
In the 1939-40 season S
played in New York's Public Theatre (under the direction
of William Rolland), where he was directed in Anshel
Schorr's "With the Rabbis' Might [?]." The season
materially was catastrophic, and S. therefore took the
offer of Oscar Ostroff in Cleveland to guest-star there
for a month's time, and for the coming season (1940-41).
S. opened Ostroff's
Douglas Park Theatre in Chicago, with Ostroff's
"adaptation of William Siegel's play, "Khayim Shaye
Becomes a Father." After playing there for ten weeks, S.
played for several weeks in Philadelphia, and in the
Bronx's "McKinley Square" Theatre, ending the season
again in Chicago's Douglas Park Theatre, and then he
toured with with the troupe across the United States and
Canada.
About his guest appearances
in Cleveland, Yehoshua Itzki, writes:
"Menasha Skulnik has in the
last two weeks brought in fresh, new life in the
Manhattan theatre. For each production the theatre was
overpacked and loud bravos were heard after every
curtain call. The audience enthusiastically
called out again and again the star performer Menasha Skulnik, who has played
"Getzl Becomes a Bridegroom" and "The Big Shot." Menasha
Skulnik was not recognized for naught as a great artist.
He earned the artistic mark as a true talent, and the
power to excite his audience, who were not sated with his playing. ...He makes
the audience laugh through his tears and weep through
his laughter. In the light comedy Menasha Skulnik
preaches and acts, as if he plays the great drama, the
high tragedy."
About his guest-appearance
in Philadelphia's "The Yiddish World" writes:
..."Menasha Skulnik is a true humorist, because his
humor comes out from him from a natural spring,
and it is in his playing there is nothing artificial.
Skulnik possesses in himself the rare proportions of a
Charlie Chaplin, who when he came onto the stage, you
think so he is like this in life. So it goes, so to
speak, he had such an understanding, a comical, curious,
sympathetic tormented type of person, who they met from
time to time in the large, fragrant human herd, which
goes around the world.
Skulnik is not a "type." He
is natural. He is what you see. He is more form than
content. But under this one comic, helpless, ridiculous
figure, You often end up the helpless cuddle likeness of
the entirely kind man, the comic side of human life in
general, the comedy of every tragedy, the foolishness of
the "wise men," the powerlessness of the "strong," the
ridiculousness of the "serious." In short: The entire
tragic-comical opposition, which lies in the nature of
that living person on guest earth--each remarkable
opposition, which lies among his big "wish," and his
small "ability" beyond his unlimited wishes and
dreams, and its strongly limited boundaries, strengths
and abilities."
In 1941-2 S. became engaged
to Herman Yablokoff's and New York's Second Avenue
Theatre, which opened with Yablokoff's adaptation of
Isidore Friedman's operetta, "Goldele, the Baker's
Daughter," lyrics by Isidore Lillian and Herman
Yablokoff, and music by Ilya Trilling), and on the
weekend he played in a new adaptation of "Getzl Becomes
a Bridegroom)." After playing the two
plays in the span of the entire season, S. guest-starred
with the troupe across the larger cities of America,
where he played on radio in the role of "Papa Cohen" in
"Abie's Irish Rose" by Ann Nichols, initially for
seventy-six dollars a week. When he became a big
success, he decided to request a raise of fifty dollars
a week. The broadcast lasted for several years, until
September 1944, to thirty-nine weeks a year.
S. received an offer by
Isidore Edelstein to perform together with him in his
Second Avenue Theatre, but as it happened, William
Rolland took over the theatre and engaged S. as the star
and regisseur of the troupe.
S. writes about this in his
memoirs.
I do not know what caused,
that it should suddenly become a prerequisite to run to
see a Yiddish production. I think that all the years in
that theatre, the audience consisted of older people.
Younger people were rarely seen in the Yiddish theatre,
but suddenly there came to me a young audience of "boys
and girls," second- and third-generations of
American lawyers, doctors, judges, business-layt, and the
Broadway theatre profession and many comics and "gag"
writers, began to come to the theatre. Those who used to
write jokes for radio and nightclubs on the "Avenue"
used to come with "paper and pencil," to acquire fresh
material for themselves. It was a happy [time] on the
Avenue. Second Avenue had risen up. It was packed in the
theatre every night. I used to play two musical comedies
every year, not because they needed two plays because of
business. One play was enough, but we used to sell many
benefits and theatre parties, and because of this we
even had to put on a new play in January. William
Rolland suddenly became overwhelmed. He used to make
thousands of dollars profit every week. Our theatre had
really lit up. The prominent people of the country used
to come to us in the theatre. In fact it was as much a
"must" for a guest in New York to go see Radio City, as
it was to go see Menasha Skulnik's theatre. The Shubert
brothers used to continually come see "the little
comedian from Second Avenue" As if it was a hunger, so
they had run frequently to the Second Avenue Theatre.
If a comic crossed the country, and he wanted to get a
laugh from the audience, he used to say, "Who do you
think I am, Menasha Skulnik?"
Here a disaster happened.
S.'s wife, Sarah, became ill and was taken away to a
hospital, and several days later, on June 13, 1943, she
passed away.
For the second season, under
the direction of Rolland, they hired the composer Sholom
Secunda, but from the start of the season (summer of
1944), S. received an offer to perform for a week in the
Loew's State Theatre in English vaudeville, in a program
of twenty minutes, but due to his success, he remained
there for two weeks, and from there for several years he
needed to come up with two or three times a year.[?]
During the second season in the Second Avenue Theatre,
it had opened very successfully.
S. writes in his memoirs:
"The walls of
the theatre used
to tremble from the laughs and applause of the audience.
With every day more and more English speakers
came to the theatre. Also Broadway producers, managers,
theatre agents began to come. The critics of all the
American newspapers began to write articles. Such
phrases as "Menasha Skulnik is brilliant," "Menasha is
the master of comedy." Walter Kerr had employed the
phrase: "Uplifting, elegant, funny and
lovable." Robert
Sylvester had expressed himself: "Menasha is the
funniest man [comical man] who has ever lived. It
doesn't bother me if his play is good." Sidney Harris
says: "Menasha Skulnik does need either language or
translation. As a big clown, he is every man, and he
lives in everyone of us. The play may be flat, but the
star is "a delight," Whitney Bolton says in summary:
"Menasha Skulnik warms up like the sun in spring."
...there was a letter for me
from Eric Bentley ..a dramatic professor at Columbia
University. He is one of the great American showmen. He
has written ten books about the theatre. He writes: "I
have tried to make it my job to try to say what actors
are doing on the stage. but when I see them, I lack the
words. What you, Menasha, do on the stage, should make
you happy because you were born do to it. You did not
live in the world in vain. ...I'm jealous of you."
Others have constantly written, "Why doesn't he come to
Broadway? What's wrong? He can speak in Turkish and we
will understand him."
This was at a time when
Yiddish writers had not treated me well because I had
acted in plays by Siegel, Freiman, Kalmanowitz, Freiman.
They used to torture me, why I didn't perform in plays
by Ibsen, Tolstoy or Pinski, Sholem Asch, I.L. Peretz,
Hirshbein and Sholem Aleichem. Didn't I want to be seen
acting in plays by such authors? The worst thing for an
actor is to play Ibsen, Peretz, Asch and Hirshbein, or
Sholem Aleichem. With such composers the actor struggles
to have success. The play works for itself. But what did
I do, was able to do, that my public did not want me to
receive plays of Ibsen and Pinski? My public came to the
theatre with the expectation to be amused through
musical comedy, and Ibsen with Pinski hadn't written any
musical comedies. The public had expected to hear a
comic sing songs and hear happy music. I myself would
have been the perfect person to play these supreme
composers."
S. received on the New Year
a large bonus by Edelstein, and he decided not to take
any offers from Broadway, and he continued to stay in
Yiddish theatre.
Ab. Cahan writes:
..."Menasha Skulnik ... took
a place with the simplicity of his play, he is simply
wonderful, without a wee bit of fabrication. In this
context the main effect of his acting, and the main
secret of his colossal magic. ...this said, he plays
himself. He also amuses and by himself, and
nevertheless, in truth, he takes the entirety seriously,
that is the impression he makes. And to do so, in
addition it requires a special blessing from nature.
This gives him such a spiritual grace, which contains
the true key to his bright and honestly deserved
success. He says: Skulnik is now the same. He stands for
only one type--a naive, amusing living thing, an idiot.
But how does this come from this "always the same"
idiot, is never the case for the audience? The answer is
that, for him, he is always authentic, without a spit of
consciousness of fabrication, always filled with the
primal grace of sedentary simplicity and warmth ...with
the special grace, which describes his grimaces and
tone."
About "The Wise Fool," L.
Fogelman writes:
..."Menasha Skulnik plays
here, as he always has, the role of stupid,
foolish man, who almost always appears as the sage in
the play. His humor consists mostly of reeled-off jokes
and the singing of naive vaudeville couplets. He does
it, as always, with success, but I think, also
with the same offering, because he is lighter, offering
his true acting talent for the price of the cheap laugh,
and often even for a price of a vulgar, fat joke. This
is a huge, risky way for a performer...
The theatre cracked from
laughter, at times there were intervals of laughter,
even the jokes and couplets on the stage, and it is no
wonder when the beloved comic Menasha Skulnik and his
year-long, faithful assistant Yetta Zwerling make jokes, sing couplets and go into a
dance together, one must truly be incurable, mentally
cloudy, depressed in order
not to laugh, or at least to grin. They both can even
divert the madness even from the saddest faces.
On the stage there turns
around a figure of a silly, dull shlumiel with a
wild men's hat in his hand, with a jacket that hangs on
his shoulders in an awkward fashion, with a pair of
pants that look as odd on his two legs, which are not in
place. ..that the figure of the shlumiel evokes the
entire laughter in the theatre... and the shlumiel is
Menasha Skulnik. The audience is visible in him ...he
has become to our Jewish audience a kind of Charlie
Chaplin ...Skulnik continually plays in his truth the
same type, and with the same acting measures. How many
times I have seen him on the stage, for me every time
there was the same figure. He does not even grudge a
diverse way. He does not even want to pretend.
He wants every time to play only the one and only role,
the role of the shlumiel. However notwithstanding this,
he always keeps the audience in one constant laugh as a
shlumiel.
A look on this comic figure
is enough for Skulnik, who came up in the stage with his
unique dance steps, with his idiotic grimace
of a shlumiel in his exaggerated suit of clothes, which
constantly lies on him in an uncomfortable way, you can
immediately stop smiling, which sounds like something
like a metallic resonance, the theatre is going
topsy-turvy.
In the middle of the Yiddish theatre season S. received
an offer from the Theatre Guild to play the role of
"Jakobowsky" in "Franz Werfel's "Jakobowsky
and the Colonel," which he however had to reject because
they wanted him to free himself from the Second Avenue
Theatre.
In 1949 S. decided to
withdraw from Yiddish theatre. For several months he did
not do anything and went on a "cruise" with his wife,
Anna (Teitelbaum), and stopped in Buenos Aires, where he
gave ten performances of "The Big Shot," to sell-out
houses, at very high prices.
About S.'s playing in Argentina, much was written about
it, such as that which was written by
Shemu'el Rozshanski after his arrival:
"Menasha Skulnik has become
a known thing to the Buenos Aires theatre public ...his
evening presentation showed very well. Not
looking at the various so-called undertakings,
which occurred on the same evening, it is to his
production that a riotous audience comes. ...the play
..."Parnose (Income)" ...by Chone Gottesfeld... staged
by Skulnik ...made a weak impression. The scenes were
too long ...Menasha Skulnik played a broken hero, not
any comic, but a tragic [person] who is a comic in his
clumsiness. The loss, however, also lies in his gait, in
his hand, even ...in his style from straightening out
his hat. However he also sharply broke out in his
eternal struggle, by screaming and wishes immediately to
negate the sin of screaming. In general, it is a model of Skulnik's
role... however, it should be said that Skulnik has this
is what happened precisely in "Parnose," going into
"songs, verses and play-words," which were shouted out
with a lot of poetic ambiguity ...such cheap effects do
not drive the audience, not for Skulnik..."
S. Beilin writes:
"Menasha came again. Now
already for the third time, as a native, as someone who
comes to his own people. What haven't they said about
him? -- Buster Keaton, the Jewish Charlie Chaplin, and
still other comparisons. But one always wants to compare
them to Menasha Skulnik himself. And do you know why?
Because it is far from the Yiddish theatrical comical
cliché, and it shows the naturalness,
the true Yiddish comical aspect, at times even with a
laughter through tears. Thus you see this
perfect Jew, who is coming with his kaftan, beard and
payes, in the great Paris, New York or Buenos Aires,
shouted across the streets a wonderful, and sudden,
unexpected delay occurs in his mind ...he suddenly
remains standing... he looks around on all sides and
says to himself: "I have you in my kaftan" ...and even a
secret: the Jew is an elderly man, he is our well-known
Menakhem Mendl, and he is very young, a little boy, he
is indeed our good, well-known Motl Peisi the cantor's
boy. It looks good. You'll see both our shlimazels
in Menasha Skulnik...."
About S.'s playing in "Yosl
the Galician," T. Beilin writes:
..."It is a most accessible
operetta, for which they have created a role for Menasha
Skulnik ...as in an entirely new genre, Menasha Skulnik
shines here. He plays positively in a comedic role and
shows that in that genre he stands out, not less than in
a tragi-comedy. It is effectively a life to see with
what an incredible thing and intelligent way he performs
comedy."
About S.'s playing in
"Senior Shlumiel," Dr. L. Zhitnitsky writes:
"In terms of content is the
operetta as a shelled nut: from above one sees the
shell, but inside it is empty. But Menasha Skulnik
himself already creates the content. He has a fitting
joke for everyone, a half-witted grin and comic
movements, and this is not only content, but also the
acting and the plot. At that time he shines enriched in
a theatrical way. ...Menasha Skulnik displayed his own
great sense of self.
His shining on the stage is enough, that the viewer
should smile at him and laugh. But he never abuses. He
would never exaggerate, and every time remains in the
framework, which is permitted on the stage and in the
play. Really, when his comedy is a humiliating, humorous
piece, and for that reason, the audience believes him,
even when he tells an exaggerates story... he wishes to
point out the style in which Menasha Skulnik tells,
which he presents the framework, in which and around
which Menasha Skulnik conducts himself....a unique and interesting
performer."
Shmuel Rozanski writes:
"For the debut of his fourth time guest-starring in
Argentina, Menasha Skulnik brought us something new; not
only himself alone, but also a spectacle. In "Senior
Shlumiel," Menasha Skulnik does not take all of the
applause for himself. He left everything to ...what
matters to Menasha Skulnik, he has himself refined,
concentrated, and even more caring as in days gone by... He says and
does only what evokes laughter, and what deserves
laughter ... he measures his words, but he talks,
because a star must talk a lot..... He says only what is
in character for him, which presents him in his
innocence, in his foolish innocence, and in his wise
innocence. He isn't guilty, the shlumiel was, if
he says something foolish, and he isn't guilty when he
says something wise.
...an open lung and liver. Clear in his joy, and clear
in his sorrow. This is Menasha Skulnik's prototype ...a
Yiddish conversation from a Charlie
Chaplin, and that shameful tragic.... Skulnik's trick
back and forth, Skulnik's bending and standing still in
the same place, Skulnik's stating of every phrase of
words ...Skulnik's cap is lifted up on both rims. All of
these things come out so genuinely... that it's all
about his inferiority that one laughs and laughs. In the
quiet and in the loudness. The bottom line is a spectacle and
Menasha Skulnik."
From a poll that "Der tog
[The Day--newspaper]" had done about the "who is one of
the most beloved Yiddish performer," Mrs. Gorstein
declared, "I feel that the best is Menasha Skulnik. He
plays his roles so artistically, as he would have lived
by the truth. He is the best today. I was in a lot of
trouble when we saw hi for a couple of hours on the
stage." David Dorfman declared, "Menasha Skulnik is an
exceptional comic and a good actor. He has demonstrated
many talents and abilities as an experienced actor. I maintain that there is no one
other way to forget for a couple of hours as to see Menasha Skulnik on the Yiddish stage. I go to
see him when I have only the opportunity...."
Sh. Zamd writes:
..."Those who saw Menasha Skulnik in Chicago, more than
a quarter of a hundred years back, play in Glickman's
Palace Theatre (with the Germans and Michalesko),
already then had seen in Skulnik the talent-filled
comic, who could evoke laughter, even with his adorned
appearance. However it then would never have fallen,
that after several years later the "adorned comic" would
not only occupy the highest step on the Yiddish stage,
but that he would become so strongly popular to the
non-Jews, and that the non-Jews would rush over to him
to get the "magnificent Menasha" for their radio and
television, offering him fat contracts.
When Menasha Skulnik should
not be the talented comic as he has been for three
decades, he should not have such a pure success in
Yiddish theatre, and also now too for the non-Jews.
...Comics are here who are "burning a world." Menasha
Skulnik has taken on another way and presents a type of
a humble shlumiel and shlimazl, who produces clothing,
genuine work, and a small cap on his head. As such
appears Menasha Skulnik, virtually in every role, as a
nonentity, a god-stricken [being.] He does not tell any jokes and
does not sing. What is enough is his "waddling gait,"
and moreover when he gives a look with his big,
frightened, innocent
eyes, he
arises in you immediately a pitiful love."
In February 1950 S. began to
play in a half-hour television program on NBC, under the
name, "The Magnificent Menasha."
About his performance on television, S. recalls:
"I know that went I play
Yiddish theatre, the critics and also other writers,
accuse me that I speak too much English, that I have
forgotten the Yiddish musical comedy. What do you think
was in the studio where I
played on TV? All the
technicians there took to speaking Yiddish, and
nevertheless, no one has attacked nor accused me, that I
am for Yiddish on English television."
About his departure from Yiddish theatre and going over
to the English stage, S. writes:
"Because my Jewish people
have all of their greatness and weaknesses all the years
of my acting on the Yiddish and on the English stage, on
radio or television, until I predictably was given
attention, that No one may hesitate to disassociate my
essential Jew. In every one of my contracts for
Broadway, every time there is put in a paragraph that
from Yom Kippur to Kol Nidre I don't play. For me
Yiddish is something I love and hold dear..I have a tongue that's endowed with my mother's milk.
Until I had gone onto the Yiddish stage, I had and knew
no other language. I haven't gone into any "schools" or
gymnasia. I had captured a little of the Russian
language on the street. My entire time and energy I have
from my early youth that I drew out from the Yiddish
theatre and Yiddish literature. ...The first ten or
fifteen years of my acting career in Europe, and in
America, I had constantly played in dramatic roles. I
never thought that from my type in Yiddish theatre, I
was going to be a comic on the Yiddish stage. This has
all happened by chance. ...My star suddenly took shine,
high and wide in the Yiddish theatre... I began to earn
more, as the greater stars of the Yiddish theatre
sometimes did, such as Adler, Kessler and Thomashefsky.
I, Menasha, had until then was the lowest paid in the
Yiddish theatre.
When I was poor, and when I
was hungry, the Yiddish writer was my friend. They were
always good luck for me and would keep me informed about
their entire written article, verified with praise. Just
when I began to stop starving, the same writer began to
cast out pins with spikes in my side. ...It made me mad,
because they began to attack my private life. I had, for
example, organized a mass demonstration against Hitler,
and against his Nazis in 1938... I had worked hard to
arrange it. And now, when I used English words in my
role as a cloak operator (tailor), such as: table,
chair, window, sofa, dinner, refrigerator, that a
Yiddish writer had written, that was because of Hitler
coming into the world.
"What more the American critic had praised me,
everything great was on the Yiddish streets to throw
dirt
on me, and I began to think entirely serious
that I should play here where they don't want me. I want
to play better here, where they want me, where people were into me."
ENGLISH PERIOD
On 19 December 1952 in
Philadelphia's Locust Theatre, he performed under the
stage direction of Gregory Ratoff, in English in the
comedy, "The Fifth Season," by Sylvia Regan, with
Skulnik in the main role.
"THE FIFTH SEASON"
The play on 23
January 1953 was given in New York in the Cort Theatre,
where it played 597 times.
S. writes about it:
"In New York the play did
not draw any strong praise, but the theatre word had
given it a shiver, because they had seen a new age. It
was my first appearance on the American [English] stage,
and the press and the public had given a laz to
me with open arms, and it stopped for two years until I
left it due to the
"Flowering Peach."
N. Swerdlin writes:
..."Menasha Skulnik himself
has over the years seized onto Broadway, in the
respect... he is not an only son on the avenue ...one
wants to leave ...to me, that I'm going to join the
world ...Menasha Skulnik's name, just think, with
electrical, Latin letters, on the marquis
from the Broadway Cort Theatre, but the world
nevertheless did not even accepted it... For the theatre
fans, however, we had good news; Menasha Skulnik plays
this time in theatre. ...On Second Avenue Skulnik had,
for the last years, told jokes, "lifted the house," made
for himself a lightweight Yiddish, making rough speeches, but not playing any
theatre ...he is a first-class comic when he wants, In
the "The Fifth Season," Skulnik's comedy did not go
away. ..How long Skulnik will stay on Broadway is
difficult to say. We already know this, however, that
with his debut he is still entirely far from his
"Menasha the Magnificent" ,,However painful the
determination is, that the Yiddish actor Skulnik has
during the years and years moved easily through the
Yiddish audience and filled it with meat. He has regard
only for non-Jews. But it does: for them he did well to
play the theatre ...let's remember it."
L. Fogelnest writes:
"I am with great interest going to see
our Menasha Skulnik on Broadway. Throughout the year we
have come out to see him in the Second Avenue Theatre.
Throughout the year we have maintained the belief about
his talent, and in
criticizing his relationship to the
play and to the role that he has played ...now we have
had to see Skulnik in an English play, and in the
English language, and a remarkable thing--the Broadway
air, the Broadway stage, and the English language has
given us this, which we haven't been able to get with
Skulnik on the Yiddish stage. We have finally seen him
in a more efficient play, and we have seen Skulnik in
his true role as a genuine comic and character actor,
without his constant "trimmings"
(confessions), without these commonplace couplets with
the undecided words and persistence, without the
vaudeville and burlesque mannerisms, and without the
cheap theatrical effects, which he used to use on the
Yiddish stage. It was surely a shame to see him now, a
distinguished and well-known man. It points out that for
the "goy
(non-Jew)," and for the [linguistically] English Jews,
they had a Yiddish performer in much higher regard. And
for me, for the entire time, the following thought
concerned me: Why is this so important to us?
The play itself is a
characteristic comedy about the life of the Jewish dress
manufacturers in New York ...The role of the second
abandoned partner is played by Menasha Skulnik ...You
see Skulnik in his well-known role of a good-natured and
good-hearted old
friend who is ...very clever and cunning, even
though ...he creates the impression of a nobody ...It is
Skulnik's constantly loved role in which he has become
engaged, that he plays already has nothing, but he lives
it ...Skulnik has his own voice, his own tone, with a
certain intonation, his own gestures and mimicry, which
is all together his. You can tell him what he
cannot play, because he actually plays constantly by
himself."
John Gassner writes in his
book, "Theatre on the Divide" (in the translation of
Alex Rabin):
"What does Sylvia Regan's
comedy, "Fifth Season," which Broadway would usually be
indifferent to that offering, looked up to the masterful
stage direction of Gregory Ratoff, and the good ensemble
in which Richard Whorf has so excelled as Mr. Goodwin,
but the play has had good luck, and thanks to Menasha
Skulnik's foolishness, which is known to the Yiddish
theatre attendees. It is without doubt that this is the
best-selling exultation that New York has put on in many
seasons. In the course of many seasons, his mourning and
sharpness are such that they may even abandon him in a
perplexing situation or crisis. When this smallest actor
begins to move his eyebrows to the heavens, and his hand
flatters, it is fickle. It will cause him to conquer
humility, which is characteristic of it, in which the
world is treated as a stepchild, and they have to wait.
The journal "Varhayt
(Truth)" has written that the acting is certainly good
from Menasha Skulnik, because it is extended with this
sentimentality, and also because everywhere his skill
comes out and [we are] enjoying it. His humanity which
appears in his innovations, and which he involves the
audience--at times even incidentally by him
alone--recognizing his entire body a function or
reaction.
His sincerity is from the
entirety of the human being. Yes, for the loss of the
entire person, days are in bullying, morbid conditions.
Looking at him, you have the feeling that the entire
human being is looking at the temptations.
At the production of "Fifth
Season," which I attended, it appeared to me that no one
was so far away in the
play as Professor James
Campbell, the Shakespeare expert. For me his suffering
evoked the thought that it is maybe here a trust between
Skulnik and Shakespeare's clowns. Perhaps our theatre
has a better face when we give it to the clowns..."
"THE FLOWERING PEACH"
On 10 November
1954 there was staged in Wilmington the drama "The
Flowering Peach" by Clifford Odets. Then the play was
staged for a week in Baltimore, for two weeks in
Washington D.C., and on 6 December 1954 in Boston, and
on 20 December 1954 they began to perform the play in
New York at the Belasco Theatre, with S. in the main
role of "Noah."
The entire press very warmly
received S.'s performance, especially praising the
involvement of a popular comic such as S., in such a
serious role as "Noah."
In a letter to S. that was
published by the well-known English theatre critic Eric
Bentley:
"I am still coming to see
again the performance of Odets' play. I have made for my
profession published views on what actors can do.
However, when I see you act, I miss my words. What you
do in the play, should also make you feel happy, that
you are glad to have been born. You did not live in
vain. I am also jealous."
Chaim Ehrenreich said that
Clifford Odets, the author of "The Flowering Peach,"
[was asked] why he had
chosen S. to play the role of Noah." |
|
|
..."It was also not easy to find an actor to play Noah.
At first Odets had in mind Spencer Tracy and Fredric
March. Then he was miserable, seeing Menasha Skulnik in
"The Fifth Season." Several times he saw Skulnik in the
comedy, and in the end the decision was made. "It was a
decision on which I had not regretted"-- said Odets.
--Why precisely Skulnik? His comicality, if you are well
familiar with Skulnik's talent, ending... with sadness. I want to say that his soul cast out from
his eyes. Besides this, he is a good actor. Not every
time ...is a good comic, also as a performer, Skulnik is
a character-actor of a very high level."
Leon Crystal writes:
"It is indeed an entire
phenomenon that good work from literature should become
translated and have success in other languages. It is,
however, a rare and surprising phenomenon that an actor
who has made a name for himself in one language should
play successfully on the stage, also in another language. So rare and surprising is the acting of
Menasha Skulnik on the American stage, especially today
in the play of Clifford Odets about Noah with his ark.
This is the play that is called "The Flowering Peach"
("The Blind Peach Tree") ...Menasha Skulnik created with
his acting on "Broadway," everything more and more to
honor the name of the Yiddish stage, from which he
descended, and on which he grew up despite steadfast
tensions.
...When Menasha Skulnik had
his first great success on Broadway in the play, "The
Fifth Season," by Sylvia Regan, he played a role in
which he had very often mentions the audience in the
happy scenes, which he alone has created in the plays in
which he has performed many times--as a "star comic" on
Second Avenue. However, both the American theatre
critics, as well as the serious American theatre folk,
soon have recognized that Menasha Skulnik is much more
than a talented comic, although he isn't any small
matter on the stage. They have recognized in him an
interesting and versatile stage artist, who can play
drama, and even tragedy with the same naturalness, with
the same simplicity, but with much more depth, and with
no less magic than comedy.
One of the serious American
theatre people who knew and recognized these properties
in Menasha Skulnik was the dramaturg Clifford Odets.
Thus today Skulnik plays the role of "Noah" in Odets'
play, which possesses partially the magic of the
biblical wonder-story, partly the property of a highly
modern symbolic piece ...that If you wish you can think
of it as a comedy, but to tell the truth it is a
tragedy. The play by Clifford Odets is really written
with a good amount of insight and humor. However it is
difficult to imagine another actor who would have
allowed the complicated and very interesting role.
As for Noah, he was able to play the part with so much
sincerity and depth and yet with so much humor and
frivolity.
Just as the playwright, Odets is a Jew, who grew up in a
Jewish home, so too are Noah and his Ark and his
household presented, to a certain degree, much like a
Jewish child imagines Noah when he begins to study the
Torah in his tender youth. Despite this, this is not
really a play from a Jewish point of view, rather it is
written from a universal point of view. The hero, Noah,
in this play is portrayed by Menasha Skulnik. This is
one of the more difficult parts for an actor to play,
because the character is a mixture of fantasy and
reality; tragedy and humor. The role is also extremely
long since Noah is practically on stage the entire time.
However, Menasha Skulnik plays the role so effortlessly
and naturally, that it seems as though he was not
playing a part, but that he was actually living out this
persona before our eyes. He never presents any cheap
antics such as some comedians can do (including Menasha
Skulnik himself). He uses refined, often profound
acting, speech, thought and movement. He also elicits
tears in the eyes of his audience, for example in the
scene when he speaks about the mother of his three
sons--his wife and lifelong companion and later when he
dies in the Ark ...In the Torah it is written: "Noah was
a righteous man, innocent in his times." The meaning of
this is "Noah was a righteous man, a complete man in his
generation." With his portrayal of the role of Noah,
Skulnik earned the epitaph in the memoirs of the
American Yiddish theatre: Menasha is a personality, an
artist, complete in his generation."
John Gasner
writes in his book, "At the Crossroads," (in the
translation of Alex Rabin):
In
"The Blooming Peach," an allegory, which blossomed with
such simplicity that there was no impression of a
man-made object, the great folk-comedian Menasha Skulnik
created the role of "Noah" so perfectly, that he came to
be a real type. Great sections of "At the Crossroads"
staged in 1954-55, thanks to Skulnik's performance, were
metamorphosed into pleasurable theatre. For example, the
way in which he squeezes his shoulders, the manner in
which he clasps his hands, his embodiment of the glare
in a lion's eyes, along with the helpless patience of a
sheep's glance; his glance, his silent intonation are to
all opinions the work of a true artist."
Skulnik with all of his worldliness and world weariness
was able to capture and take hold of his fidelity to
humanity, even though today's humans are too precarious
to be concerned about humanity and even more to love it.
What's more, this is especially true about one who
uncovers this through the sharpest pains, which are
borne in the intimate reality of his love for his wife
and family.
That which at first appears to be a shortcoming in
Odets's dramatization, the actor Skulnik is able to mend
on the stage.
|
"THE PLUNGE"
On September 26, 1956 S. performed on television in a
play, "The Plunge," but his performance was called a
pretext, that he didn't feel too good. In an article,
"Why Menasha Skulnik Will Not Play Today on TV,"
according to Herman Quince (sp) (Chaim Ehrenreich), that
the real reason why S. didn't perform is because of
this, because he had played the role of a Jewish
clothing manufacturer whose business is going so badly
that he burned down his factory in order to collect the
insurance money. S. maintained that the role did not
seem to fit the character, and that it was not good to
play. The television producer, however, had definitely
required that S. should play the role. This was the
reason that the garment manufacturers, [clothing
factories], which explains the company that sponsored
the program, that will declare a boycott against its
products. They changed the character to one who owns a
doll factory, and the role was played with a non-Jewish
actor.
"UNCLE WILLIE"
On November 12, 1956, in New Haven [CT], there was
staged with S. in the title role of "Uncle Willie," by
Julie Berns and Irving Elman, then in Boston and
Philadelphia, and on December 20, 1956 in the Golden
Theatre in New York, as the play lasted an entire
season.
|
"THE LAW AND MR. SIMON"
On June 5, 1959, S. performed in Long Island's Westbury
Theatre [Westbury Fair?] in the main role of "The Law
and Mr. Simon," by Julie Berns. The play continued for
fourteen weeks, and then it was played in Atlantic City,
Baltimore, Washington, Detroit and Chicago.
In the summer of 1960, S. was engaged by the
Cambridge Drama Festival to play in Cambridge,
Massachusetts, in "Helen of Troy, or, La Belle Helene,"
libretto by Phil Hoffman, lyrics by Marshall Bader,
music by Offenbach. The play was there for eight weeks
with a symphony orchestra, fifty singers and dancers, in
an open theatre of five thousand attendees for each
production. |
|
"THE 49TH COUSIN"
On 10 October 1960, through the "Guild," there was
staged in Philadelphia's Locust Theatre, the comedy,
"The 49th Cousin," by Florence Lowe and Caroline
Francke. The play was with S. in the main role and was
staged in New York on October 27, 1960.
About S.'s acting in "The 49th Cousin," Dr. N. Swerdlin
writes:
Menasha Skulnik once again is on Broadway, and this time
he is performing in English. However, although this is
theoretically true, in fact Skulnik is still on Second
Avenue, minus the double entendres and the half-Yiddish
and slow English. One more thing; Skulnik on Second
Avenue never before appeared in a Broadway play. And
perhaps even on Broadway he is not in a play. "The
Forty-Ninth Cousin" is not an ordinary play. If you
don't want to be too critical, you can say that it is a
"weak" play. In the end it doesn't matter. I had the
impression that this comedy was "especially" constructed
for Skulnik according to a Second Avenue "recipe."
Skulnik the rather thinly gifted comedian stands out in
this rather shallow context. For the Jewish audience it
is not new, even when Skulnik gives a monologue where he
speak to God or later when he twists his leg around
...In the Ambassador Theatre they laugh. It is our duty
to correct this. The laughter is created mainly by
Menasha Skulnik himself.
D. Segal [I. Bashevis] writes:
The Yiddish theatre has gone downhill because of such
plays. For Broadway it is a chronic condition. This is a
play where one person has to keep the audience's
attention, that one has to normally be highly talented,
in order for him to appear on the stage and maintain
this skill. Menasha Skulnik has already demonstrated his
extraordinary talent countless times. We have to
consider the action, and see how it was handled, despite
the logic of the events. Menasha Skulnik appeared in
many such plays on Second Avenue, but now he has been
allowed to show us what what he can do by those who are
in charge of English-language theatre.
The truth is that due to the play, "The 49th Cousin"
specifically written with him in mind, he is able to
show us his skill. There is more logic and realism here
than in many of the other plays that Skulnik
demonstrated his talent and skill to us till now. The
play is custom-made, although it sticks to the facts.
What's more this play is full of comic moments. Menasha
Skulnik can, through this performance, demonstrate all
of his artistic strengths. It is astonishing how Menasha
Skulnik was able to bring onto the English stage all of
his theatrical ability. Even though the situations are
overdone, and at times even obviously fabricated, there
is never a false note in Mr. Skulnik's acting. He is
able to sustain his gift from the beginning to the end
for the public. One never grows tired of watching him.
He is a heaven-blessed artist.
It
is not easy for me to recommend this play because of its
tendency to support that ugly idea of assimilation as a
good thing. But from the point of view of entertainment,
"The 49th Cousin" is a masterpiece. The audience laughs
without stopping. "The 49th Cousin" at least doesn't mix
up two languages. Only English is spoken.
Also lacking are the common vulgarities which are so
often sprinkled onto the scripts on Second Avenue by the
directors. If you're going to see this play, you must
not take its moral, its ethical essence, too seriously.
Mixed marriages are a tragedy for Jews. They are a
bitter pill to swallow. It is so sad, that such a
marvelous Jewish talent, like Menasha Skulnik should
need to compromise himself to the assimilators and to
play their game..."
|
R. Yukelson writes:
"The 49th Cousin" that is now playing on Broadway is
made to measure for Menasha Skulnik, who plays the
leading role in this comedy. Skulnik plays the role of
a German Jews in Syracuse, Isaac Lowe. He is the central
figure on the stage. If only he could be featured in a
more artistic manner for the audience. If the director
had not had Menasha Skulnik as his starring performer...
Menasha Skulnik is brilliant in his role. He
demonstrates masterful acting abilities as he reacts to
the various situations in which he finds himself. He is
the stubborn despot, who had not even the tiniest bit of
insight for anyone else. But, at the end he is awakened
by his fatherly instinct of warmth and empathy. Humorous
and impressive are the few moments when Isaac Lowe
speaks to God: "Noble Lord, you cooperate with me, and
I'll work along with you." Or when the end results are
against him and he severs all of his connections with
the Almighty and declares himself to be an atheist.
These are magnificent theatrical scenes, which make an
impression upon the spectator. "The 49th Cousin" will
without doubt be one of the "successful shows" this
season on Broadway and will add an interesting new
"type" to the gallery of Menasha Skulnik's theatre types.
Upon a question that Ehrenreich put to S., if he has
plans, once more to appear on the Yiddish stage, he
answered:
-- I want you to understand that I am "through and
through" a Yiddish actor. Though I perform in the
English theatre, it does not mean that I am finished
performing on the Yiddish stage. And if I should be
offered a play that touches my heart, I am prepared even
in the coming season to perform in the Yiddish theatre,
which is after all, my theatre. By us in the Yiddish
theatre, everything is upside down; First of all, we
rent a theatre, then we set up a theatrical troupe and a
star, and only after that do we start to look for a
play.
A Broadway manager, if he has a play, looks first
of all for a director. After that he puts together a
cast, and then he searches for a theatre ...I am,
believe me, far from being a wealthy man. I am, however,
thank God, taken care of as far as income is concerned,
therefore I can now allow myself the pleasure of
choosing a play, and if a part doesn't please me, I can
return it."
"LA
BELLA HELENA"
Skulnik writes:
"Throughout the winter, when I was busy playing 'The
49th Cousin,' Albert Mohr prepared to present 'La Bella
Helena' in New York, due to its great success in
Cambridge, however he engaged a literary co-worker from
the 'New York Times,' who rewrote the libretto. They
invested over half-a-million dollars in costumes and
scenery, and we began to play in Philadelphia. I think
the same play that we played in Cambridge, where we had
so much success, could have, instead of the originally
planned two-week run played for eight weeks, but Albert
Mohr wanted to redo the play. As a result it lost its
charm. The magic had disappeared. They had 'fixed' it so
well that we ended up losing half a million dollars, and
after only one week of performing in Philadelphia the
theatre was closed and we never came to New York. Over
one million dollars had to be paid out for tickets that
had been purchased by various organizations."
|
"COME BLOW YOUR HORN"
In 1962-1963 S. toured
across America with the play, "Come Blow Your Horn," by
Neil Simon, which was a success.
"SEIDMAN AND SON"
In the summer of 1964 S. toured through Philadelphia,
Boston, [New] Jersey and Long Island with the comedy,
"Seidman and Son," by Elick Moll, adapted by him from a
novel.
"ENTER LAUGHING"
In 1965 S. played across many cities of America in
"Enter Laughing" by Joseph Stein, adapted from Carl
Reiner's novel.
"THE ZULU AND THE
ZAYDA"
On 18 June 1966 S. performed as the "Zayda" in "The Zulu
and the Zayda."
Walter Kerr writes [in the
translation of Alex Robin]:
Menasha Skulnik is such a
pleasant person that it's hard to imagine
someone saying something bad about him. Because
of this it is hard to spin an intrigue around
him. Felix Leon and Howard Da Silva were able to
demonstrate substantial proof of this in their
play, "The Zulu and the Zayda," using the
various South African racial laws that appear in
a story by Dan Jacobson, which they adapted. At
the end of this play love conquers all. Mr.
Skulnik is the grandfather (zayda.) He moves
with his son and family to Johannesburg. He's as
agile as a youngster and escapes from his house
unnoticed, and it's hard to find him. His son's
family has to hire a guard, a Zulu, whom they
hired from a nearby village, who had the
inclination to learn Yiddish. Mr. Skulnik is
splendid when he goes out with this new
companion, as though he was hanging around with
Michelangelo's David. He stretches his neck up
to the decorations which the Zulu wears in his
ear, or to make an effort to read his thin white
ID pass. Mr. Skulnik is a very short man, not
even five feet tall. It was as if he was created
to crawl under a table. ...He starts to speak
Yiddish even before the Zulu appears. By the
way, it's really a bit too early in the
performance, since the audience doesn't
understand Yiddish, and they're not too happy
about this because they can't understand the
zayda's witticisms. Mr. Skulnik gets lost, very
quickly in his own United Nations (the
multi-language organization.)
Perhaps, best of all, is
that he doesn't use his usual chirp. He doesn't
even complain, "Who will give me a day off?," or
to complain when he has to part with is newfound
friend, even when he's in a prison cell, 'I'm
locked up in prison cell.' The clarity of his
voice does not allow him any despair. The winds
among palm trees grow higher and higher till
they are able to carry him away, and everything
disappears with it. His good-humored smile, his
patch of hair and his audiences hopes.
|
Mr. Skulnik is enchanting."
Richard Watts Jr. writes (in
the translation of Alex Robin):
This not an actor who is capable of portraying
endearment and an honest lovability like Menasha
Skulnik. This is the impression one has upon seeing "The
Zulu and the Zayda," the new play from Howard Da Silva
and Felix Leon ...It is light and unashamedly
sentimental. But Mr. Skulnik, under the direction of
Louis Gossett who is the co-star, really moved the
audience very much..
The play can be classified as a limited
treatment of a much larger theme on the subject
of apartheid in South Africa. More specifically
it is a simple and pretentious story about a
friendship between two people from completely
different backgrounds; an old fashioned
grandfather, a Jew who is living out his last
years with his wealthy son in Johannesburg, and
a young Zulu, a servant, who has been put in
charge of looking after the grandfather. There's
nothing more to it than that. There's not even a
hint of something more. There's not even an
inference about a secondary subject, which is
the growing closeness between the two men. Only
twice throughout the play is there a proximity
to a dramatic climax. In both cases it is hinted
at in a very subdued manner. Mr. Skulnik brings
to his role his unusual personal magic and
warmth. He also demonstrates his artistic skill,
humor and emotionality.
The stage director Dore Schary writes (in the
translation of Alex Robin)
I believe that "The Zulu and the Zayda" is a
play that can enchant. It is full of joy and
laughter. It could have become a tragedy or a
drama if the writers would have decided to
handle it that way. The nauseating and racial
inequality in South Africa and their outgrowth,
when Harry Grossman and his father an immigrant
don't see eye to eye. But instead we chose to
write a musical-comedy and as a high-point to
demonstrate the love and depth of feelings
between the black Zulu from the village and the
Yiddish speaking Zayda.
But on a lighter tone, although they didn't
speak the same language, their hearts met. The
play in song and dance with the strong overtones
of Yiddish, which to my mind is a rich, wondrous
and vital language, said something important
about human relations.
Towards a larger polemic about S.'s role on the Yiddish
stage and his departure. This raises the issue of B.
Seffner's criticism of S.'s appearing in "The Zulu and
the Zayda." |
|
|
S. writes to Shefner:
I am very grateful to you for all of the nice
compliments that you gave me personally for my
appearance in the play. And although I am not
responsible for the play, I extend my thanks to you for
both--for me and for the play itself. However, you write
in your article that I am the one who put the Yiddish
language to shame on the Yiddish stage, therefore I must
bring to your attention, that this is not correct. I
used to see, with much effort, that all of the actors in
my company (troupe) should speak a good and pure
Yiddish. I was the only one on the Yiddish stage, who
used to use Englishisms, Russian and Polish in the roles
I played. I might have been a pushcart peddler or a
tailor, and I would naturally speak as they spoke. I
would imitate one of them. For me this was a sort of
satire. It hurt me greatly that you the journalist did
not understand this. I love Yiddish, it is dear to me. I
was raised in Yiddish. My children speak a pure Yiddish,
and even my grandchildren speak a good Yiddish. When the
Yiddish press began to pursue me, I no longer could
remain on the Yiddish stage. That was the reality of why
I left the Yiddish theatre, because I could no longer
remain on the stage with a press that hated me so much.
I then went where the press received me with open arms
and appreciated my work. I sacrificed my youth, my best
years to the Yiddish theatre. I gave my best work to the
Yiddish stage. It is true that for the last years I
played musical comedies that are not always the purest,
most earnest form of literature. That's how it is on
Broadway, and so it is in England and in France. We call
this musical comedy and you call it "shund."
There are, naturally, exceptions. If the play is by
Bernard Shaw like "My Fair Lady," or from Sholem
Aleichem like "Fiddler on the Roof," however, the
majority of musical comedies are produced by
professional writers who have the urge to amuse the
audience.
B. Shefner's response to S.
I am certain that for many of our readers this letter
will be a pleasant surprise. First of all--the good,
pure Yiddish, and the strong connection to Yiddish, a
connection which he inculcated into his children and
grandchildren, with this alone Skulnik could serve as an
example not only for Yiddish actors, but even for many
Yiddish writers. Also the content--his comments about
his acting, his presenting a particular point of view,
his own complaints of injustices, all of this shows us
another Skulnik, as compared to the one many of us
thought we knew.
As for me, I do not agree with many of his opinions, and
I am certainly thankful that with his letter to me he
gave me an opportunity to bring out another
perspective. First of all, I must take a justified
stand. In my article about "The Zulu and the Zayda," I
did not write that Menasha Skulnik was the one who used
to embarrass our Yiddish language on the Yiddish
stage. I simply expressed the concept that "the
strongest defender was the very one who drove Yiddish
from Yiddish theatre on Second Avenue." This was not
only my impression, but the impression of most of the
Yiddish writers, Yiddish teachers and certainly Yiddish
cultural icons, who in these last years sat in on a
Skulnik's presentations on Second Avenue. This
impression arose not only from Skulnik's "Englishisms"
which appeared in so many of his roles, but also from
the "half-Yiddish, half-English" delivered by other
performers on the Yiddish stage. Most importantly, the
younger actors in the more romantic roles do the same.
Menasha Skulnik assures us in his letter that he put a
lot of energy into seeing that the actors in his
companies "should speak a pure and an excellent
Yiddish." But it appears that Skulnik had a much greater
success with his audiences than with his actors. The
actors didn't listen to him. I declare that they
listened to him all week long. What's more, on any
evening when I was in the theatre...this would have been
an extraordinary occurrence and even more remarkable,
would have been, if he had been there too and would have
met with Chaim Grade, at a time when many other Yiddish
writers were present in the theatre. The Yiddish writers
came with complaints to Skulnik. Why? Because the whole
play depended upon him and because of him people came to
see the play. Was it all for nothing? Prestige is
always accompanied by responsibility. Menasha Skulnik
calls these complaints-- "persecution." Hence, he has
removed himself from the Yiddish theatre; "because of
the hateful press I could not remain there." Meanwhile
he complains that he gave the Yiddish theatre to the
younger generation as well as his best years. ...I don't
understand what sort of extraordinary sacrifice he
brought. Doesn't the tailor, the teacher, or the coal
miner also give away his best years? The question is not
that we give away for the sake of one's work, but what
we receive for it. Make a reckoning of what he has
received, for example, the good coal miner and his work,
and what does the good performer or the good writer
receive, and you will see who of them has more right to
remind us about compensation for their sacrificed years.
...I mean that...the Yiddish press, the Yiddish critics
meant to do well for the Yiddish theatre. They sinned
with... "Philanthropy" they allowed too much to pass by,
and too much was overlooked, all for the same reason:
It's a pity." It struggles to breathe, so here are your
compliments. Let it not be said later, that the play
closed because of us, or due to us this frail actor lost
his bread and butter.... I am not talking this time
about praiseful reviews, which he received for his
acting. Menasha Skulnik earned his good reviews for his
acting in a kosher manner. Yiddish writers supported him
without reserve. The only wondered what kind of joy to
have from his talent when they had to swallow in one
gulp a "shund play."
Menasha Skulnik said that in all truth that the plays he
appeared in were "musical comedies," just like those
that are performed on Broadway, nothing more. We the
Yiddish writers called them "shund." ...I
mean that Skulnik is committing an injustice when he
compares them to "musical comedies" from Second Avenue
Theatre. First of all -- the difference is the
execution, the acting, and the illusion that appears on
Broadway, which allows one to fools himself. While on
Second Avenue this was never possible.
...Even larger is the difference in the plays
themselves. On Broadway we see light comedies, which
allow themselves to offer what they promise:
entertainment. When you come out of a Broadway show, you
take nothing with you. But there is no aftertaste in
your mouth either. However, when you leave the Yiddish
theatre's "musical comedy," which is based on fact (if
it manages to play another show) a worthwhile mixture of
melodrama and vaudeville. They have managed to lower
both the Yiddish language and the human spirit... The
last few years there seemed to arrive on Second Avenue a
new plague--that began to entice the youth. So they told
the actors to use as much English as possible, with the
hope that the new generation will attend more shows. So
they created a tragic-comical situation. They were
talking to those who were not in the theatre and ignored
those who were actually present. So they didn't say
anything. You can see that Menasha Skulnik said that he
felt like a homeless person in the half-empty (This
doesn't make sense. The theatre was always packed)
Second Avenue Theatre and had a good reason to leave it
for Broadway, where they took him in with open
arms. What touches me personally is that not only did I
not have any grievances against him, but that I was
expressly thankful to him when I saw him in "The Zulu
and the Zayda." Certainly I would have like to have seen
Menasha Skulnik in such a neat and human play in the
Yiddish theatre. But in as much as I know that this is
(let us say for the present) not possible. If he would
only have been prepared from his side to bring
sacrifices, it pleases me that he received the
opportunity to play good theatre on the English stage,
and that I and a lot of other Jews can derive pleasure
both from his great talent and from his promoting
Yiddish on Broadway.
The General Secretary of "Arbiter Ring" B. Gebiner,
writes:
On
Wednesday, December 10, 1952 in the "New York Post"
there appeared an interview with Menasha Skulnik ...In
his interview he said among other things, and I cite
Skulnik's words from this interview: " Downtown (on
Second Avenue) I had to search for jokes ...Down town I
knew that the majority of the audience came to see
me, and they never knew even the name of the play that
they had come to see. They came for a "good time" and it
was my duty to provide this for them. I always had to
pull down my pants. But now I have a play, which
unfolds. And I can now hold my pants up, and this is
what I love most of all about my appearance on the
stage." Skulnik, in his interview, said even more
outrageous words of wisdom ...no one can disclaim that
Skulnik has talent. But the talented Menasha Skulnik not
only thought, and in reality accomplished, that which he
boasted about. Not only did he pull his own pants down,
but he also pulled down Yiddish theatre and the Yiddish
stage through cheap humor as well. Now that Skulnik
thinks that he's grabbed on to the English-speaking
Broadway by the beard, he can spit on Second Avenue and
now he can throw away his audiences, which come to see
him downtown... Menasha Skulnik forgets the witticism
"We don't dare spit in a well from which we drink. Who
knows, we might one day have to drink from the same
well. So let him, in his own interest beware, that the
well should not be full of spit."
AN
EVALUATION
The poet, Z. Vaynper characterizes him thus:
"The same surprise that accompanies him in his daily
life is with him when he is on the stage. Compared to
the manner in which other famous Yiddish actors receive
the applause from their audiences when they are on the
stage, and the manner in which Menasha Skulnik receives
them, you can immediately detect a difference.
Every other famous Yiddish actor accepts the applause
from his audience as a natural thing, which he deserves.
However, Menasha Skulnik always receives it as a
surprise for which he was not prepared. Every other
well-known Yiddish actor moves immediately to the front
of the stage, even when the applause is not meant for
him. It doesn't enter his mind that it's possible to
become confused in the theatre with someone else apart
from him, but Menasha Skulnik always remains standing on
the stage somewhat confused. We can see, clearly, that
he's not sure of himself. We can clearly see that he
thinks that they are applauding for him, really for him,
and that he bows in a posture of uncertainty and
helplessness.
Lack of uncertainty and helplessness is altogether very
characteristic for Menasha Skulnik: it blows with the
uncertainty and helplessness of his daily life, although
there isn't the smallest pretense and appreciation in
Skulnik's bearing. When actors, who don't even reach his
shoulders, meet in a coffee house with the pretentious
style of their clothes and gesticulations, he always
appears to be unnoticed. His small figure is a bit bent
over, and when people look at him, they often have the
impression that he made himself small in order that he
might avoid appearing too large in their eyes. There are
no theatrical mannerisms in his voice when he speaks to
someone, as it might be with other actors of his status.
In his posture he is one of them. He is through and
through one of the people. So it is when he is on the
street, and he is the same when he is at home where they
speak a homey folksy Yiddish. He is happier about this
fact than the fact that his two daughters graduated from
the Sholem Aleichem folk school and middle school, and
that his youngest daughter shows signs of becoming a
gifted actress too. This simple, daily, folksy way of
life of the Jews is closer to him than anything else. He
himself feels often that he is of the folk. Perhaps it
is his uncertainty and lack of confidence in himself to
carry on his shoulders, and on his head his feathered
hat of fame.
It is interesting that this uncertainty and lack of
confidence, which is so apparent in Menasha Skulnik's
character, has become the source from which he takes his
emotional nourishment. Count, once again, all of the
characters who Menasha Skulnik, with great success,
presented on the Yiddish stage before he became so well
known, and you will see that they are all uncertain and
unconfident personas. Menasha Skulnik's success on the
Yiddish stage is based in this artistic secret, when he
himself discovered how to transpose pieces from his own
"I" from the "I"s of the people whom he portrays on the
stage. It is as though he himself in the deepest manner
grabbed hold of his own weaknesses in order for him to
free himself from them. He demonstrates this through the
living figures that he creates because they come from
his own strength. Therefore they are so human that they
appeal so much, to the hearts of the audience. Menasha
Skulnik's little figures which he created for the
Yiddish stage are not hidden shlimazls, who tell jokes
in order to amuse the audience, but they are themselves
pieces of our life. With their curious, tragic-comic and
comic-tragic reminders they often recall moments from
our own lives. Therefore, who among us has not felt at
times in a circumstance of Menasha Skulnik's shlimazl?
The dramatist Ossip Dymow characterizes him in this
manner:
About forty years ago (written in 1956) I became
acquainted with Menasha Skulnik regarding the inquiry
into the Irving Place Theatre under Max Willner's
direction. We began to study my comedy "Nudnikes." This
new actor was a stranger to me. I saw, before me, a
small person with a very impressionable face, thick
black hair, and with smart, sincerely laughing eyes.
However, his eyes were not sincere due to sadness. I
noticed a similar sincerity in the eyes of Romanian
Mogulesko, The Galitzianer Satz, the Russian Buloff, the
German Max Fallenberg, the Frenchman Koklen, Mikhail
Chekhov, Perhaps it only appeared to me at that time in
my old age. I remember one thing clearly; I felt
closeness with the young actor, by the way we did not
get together very often, as can frequently happen in
show business. From time to time Menasha would stage
plays from the old repertoires: Gordin, Pinski,
Hirshbein. It was a pleasure to see him in these
presentations. Suddenly, he became quite different, very
serious, you can understand without jokes. The
presentations were successful, When Menasha appeared on
the stage, his clever eyes smiled with great joy.
Rudolph Schildkraut, the greatest expert in theatre
immediately detected something about this young actor.
Schildkraut said to him: "Always appear on the stage
without make-up, without a beard, and without a wig. The
audience must immediately see your face when you are on
the stage. Your face is your 'address,' your 'passport.'
Menasha kept Schildkraut's advice as a holy command. The
outcome of all this was the Skulnik's face became one of
the most recognizable and most beloved faces upon the
Yiddish, and now the American stage.
The "Irving Place Theatre" closed. I went to Berlin to
Reinhardt, and when I returned six years later I found a
completely different theatre world... In the "Cafe
Royale" I met up with Menasha Skulnik--What are you
doing in the theatre? Are you successful, I asked him?
His answer was surprising to me. He answered me:
--I have commercialized my art.
--What does that mean?
--The Yiddish theatre has changed. I had to change too.
Come to my theatre, you'll see for yourself, By the
way, (simultaneously) can you, perhaps, give me new
interesting jokes, German, French...
I recalled several jokes. I told them to him, and he
wrote them in his notebook.
I came to his theatre on Second Avenue, and there I saw
Menasha's commercialized jokes ...to tell the truth, the
"art" really appealed to me: Many jokes, a long line of
anecdotes, several of them were quite successful, some
of them were spicy, every third word was in English ...I
didn't know if the presentation was Yiddish or poor
English. But the audience liked it.
"We have to listen to the public. They know
better"--Menasha said.
Year after year Menasha presented the same material. The
theatre critics became very little interested in him.
They practically cut him off. He followed his way,
stiff-necked. He went on with his own ideas: "The old
generation is long gone, they grew old, they lost
interest in the theatre, anyone newer than Gordin did
not interest them. But a new young element has appeared
that demands amusement, laughter, humor, jokes, in
either English or Yiddish. It's all the same to them.
See how packed my theatre is. Am I now correct?"
On Broadway, in English, he became different, more
original, more interesting. His language was clear and
succinct. He knows what he's doing up on the stage, and
he also knows what not to do. The English theatre goers
love him. He is frugal with his language, no big
monologues. A son of the people, coarse, his words are
sharp, exactly on time. It appears that his expressions
are coming out of his mouth for the first time. He's
matured into an artist, and he's growing still more. His
role as the wine-taster Noah, interestingly, was a very
difficult undertaking, seemingly light and tender. He
played out his role, and with great joy he gave pleasure
to his audience, as he played his role. I am certain
that when he donned his wig, he himself had true
pleasure as an artist, as a person, and as a Jew.
|
Sh.E. and Sh.E. from Jacob Tickman and Harry
Weissberg.
-
"Lexicon of the
Yiddish Theatre," Warsaw, 1934, Volume 2.
-
Dr. A. Mukdoni
-- In un arum teater, "Morning Journal,"
N.Y., 18 November 1927.
-
B. [N. Buchwald]
-- M. skulnik, komiker, "Frayhayt,"
N.Y.,
24 February 1928.
-
L. Melakh -- Vegn menasha skulnik, "Prese," Buenos Aires,
25 May 1928.
-
Jacob
Botoshansky -- Der debut fun menasha skulnik
in teater "ekselsior," "Prese," Buenos
Aires, 11 June 1928.
-
H. Zakhak --
Menasha skulnik, der aktyor vos makht lakhen
un veyben, "Di Yidishe tsaytung," Buenos
Aires, 11 June 1928.
-
Sh. R.
[Rozhansky] -- Tsu menasha skulnik debut in
"ekselsior," kharakteristik fun talentfuln
kharakter-komiker, "Yidishe tsaytung," Buenos
Aires, 21 August 1929.
-
Nun Tsadik [N.
Tsuker] -- Der debut fun menasha skulnik,
"Argentiner tog," Buenos Aires, 23 August
1929.
-
Jacob
Botoshansky -- Sara un menasha skulnik in
"ekselsior," "Prese," Buenos Aires, 26
August 1929.
-
Sh. R. -- A
leykhte komdeye, oyfgefirt fun m. skulnik,
"Yidishe tsaytung," Buenos Aires, 5 September
1929.
-
Dr. L.
Zhitnitsky -- Menasha skulnik, "Prese," 27
September 1929.
-
Sh. R. -- A
leykhte-faarveylndike komedye in
"ekselsior," oyfgefirt fun menasha skulnik,
"Yidishe tsaytung," Buenos Aires, 20 October
1929.
-
Shmeul Rozhansky
-- Menasha skulniks ern-ovnt in "ekselsior,"
"Yidishe tsaytung," Buenos Aires, 25 October
1929.
-
Sh. R. -- "A sud
fun a meydl" fun semuel kohn, oyfgefirt fun
menasha skulnik, "Yidishe tsaytung," Buenos
Aires, 3 November 1929.
-
Sh. R. -- "Di
bobe yakhne" oyfgefirt an a rezhiser (fun
menasha skulnik), "Yidishe tsaytung," Buenos
Aires, 25 November 1929.
-
Shmuel Rozhansky
-- "Di groyse frage" fun z. libin, oyfgefirt
fun menasha skulnik, "Yidishe tsayt," Buenos
Aires, 9 December 1929.
-
M. G. [Giser] --
"Di groyse frage" (fun z. libin) oyfgefirt
durkh m. skulnik, "Argentiner teg," Buenos
Aires, 9 December 1929.
-
F. Chaims -- Di
gastshpiln fun der ekselsior-trupe mit der
batgeylikung fun menasha skulnik, "Rozarier
vokhnblat," N' 288, 1929.
-
Chaim Reich [Z.
Zylbercweig] -- Shpasige teater mesh'lekh
vegen menasha skulnik, "Di yidishe velt,"
Philadelphia, 18 March 1932.
-
S. Regensberg --
Menasha skulnik's oyftrit in "artsh" als
"fishl der gerotener," "Di
yidishe velt,"
Philadelphia, 28 March 1932.
-
Ezriel Fleishman
-- "Mister shlumiel" -- in hopkinson teater,
"Tog," N.Y., 7 October 1932.
-
L. Fogelman --
Menasha skulnik in a neyer piese in
hopkinson teater, "Forward," N.Y., 21
October 1932.
-
T. Beilin -- Notitsn un bamerkungen, "Di prese," Buenos
Aires, 8 June 1934.
-
Hillel Rogoff --
Rumshinsky's operete "fishl der gerotener"
in folks-teater, "Forward," N.Y., 11 October
1935.
-
William Edlin --
"Fishl der gerotener," "Tog," N.Y., 11
October 1935.
-
M. Ring --
Menasha skulnik iber ales, "Morgn frayhayt,"
N.Y., 11 October 1935.
-
Dr. A. Mukdoni
-- "Fishl der gerotener," "Morgn frayhayt,"
N.Y., 11 October 1935.
-
Ab. Cahan -- Di
shpas-makher fun der tsveyter evenyu,
"Forward," N.Y,, December 1935.
-
Moyshe Nadir --
Teatrale ekspursyes, "Signal," N.Y., Nov.
1936.
-
Dr. L Zhitnitsky
-- Der debut fun menasha skulnik in der
operete "senior shlumiel," Di prese," Buenos
Aires, 26 June 1938.
-
Shmuel
Roszhanski -- Teater retsenzies, "Di yidishe
tsaytung," Buenos Aires, 26 June 1938.
-
T. Beilin --
Teater notitsn, "Di prese," Buenos Aires, 17
July 1938.
-
Shmuel
Roszhanski -- Teater retsenyes, "Di yidishe
tsaytung," Buenos Aires, 24 July 1938.
-
Shmuel
Roszhanski -- Teater retsenyes, dort, 7
August 1938.
-
Sh.R. -- Teater
notitsn, dort, 21 August 1938.
-
Shmuel
Roszhanski -- Teater retsenzies, dort, 21
August 1938.
-
L. Fogelman -- "Der
kluger nar," "Forward," N.Y., 14 October
1938.
-
B.Y. Goldstein
-- Di naye operete "der kluger nar" in
poblik teater, "Tog," N.Y., 16 October 1938.
-
Yehoshue Itski
-- Menasha skulnik, barimter komiker in
manhatn, "Di yidishe velt," Cleveland, 7 May
1939.
-
L. Fogelman -- "Ikh
bin farlibt," di naye offirung in dem sekond
evenyu teater, " "Forward," Province
edition, 6 December 1946.
-
Mordechai
Rubinstein -- Vos denkt dos folk?, "Tog,"
N.Y., 5 July 1946.
-
Samuel Pasner --
AS WE SEE MENASHA SKULNIK, "The Jewish
Review," New York, February 10, 1949.
-
Richard Watts
Jr. -- CATCHING UP TARDILAY ON MENASHA
SKULNIK, "New York Post," November 14, 1947.
-
Vernon Rice --
WONDERFUL IS THE WORLD FOR MENASHA SKULNIK,
"York Post Home News," February 16, 1949.
-
Bn-min Gebiner
-- A brif vegn menasha skulnik's shpogl
nayem interview, "Forward," N.Y., 19
December 1952.
-
W.W.V. -- "OF
SEASON" PLEASANT STAGE STORY, "Waterbury
American," December 26, 1952.
-
Vernon Rice --
CURTAIN CUES, '"New York Post," December 30,
1952.
-
Jerry Gaghan --
"THE FIFTH SEASON," AT WALNUT; MENASHA
SKULNIK IN STAR ROLE, "Philadelphia Daily
News," December 30, 1952.
-
R.E.P.
Sensenderfer -- LIVING THEATRE, "The Evening
Bulletin," Philadelphia, December 30, 1952.
-
Henry T. Murdock
-- "THE FIFTH SEASON," OPENS AT WALNUT
THEATER," -- "The Philadelphia Inquirer,"
December 31, 1952.
-
N. Swerdlin --
Menasha skulnik oyf brodvay, "Daily Morning
Journal," N.Y., 30 January 1953.
-
William Hawkins
-- A GAY "5TH SEASON," "World Telegram,"
January 24, 1953.
-
Robert Coleman
-- "THE FIFTH SEASON" IS A HIT FILLED WITH
LAUGHS," "Daily Mirror," New York, January
24, 1953.
-
Robert Sylvester
-- SKULNIK'S HERE IN 5TH SEASON" AND HE'S
FUNNY, "The News," New York, January 24,
1953.
-
Whitney Bultom
-- SKULNIK'S TALENT RISES ABOVE "FIFTH
SEASON," "Morning Telegraph," New York,
January 24, 1953.
-
John McClain --
A SLICE OF HYSTERIA THAT SHOULD LINGER, "New
York Journal American," January 24, 1953.
-
Brooks Atkinson
-- AT THE THEATRE -- "The New York Times,"
January 24, 1953.
-
Richard Watts
Jr. -- TWO ON THE AISLE -- "New York Post,"
January 25, 1953.
-
Walter F. Kerr
-- "THE FIFTH SEASON," "New York Herald,"
January 25, 1953.
-
Kahn -- PLAY ON
BROADWAY, "VARIETY," New York, January 28,
1953.
-
Richard Dyck --
EXODUS AND DER 2ND. AVE. -- "Aufbau," New
York, January 30, 1953.
-
Bob Francis --
THE FIFTH SEASON, "The Billboard," New York,
January 31, 1953.
-
Radie Harris --
BROADWAY AND VINE -- "Los Angeles Times,"
L.A., February 8, 1953.
-
Jack Gaver --
STAGE AND SCREEN -- "Sunday News," L.A.,
February 8, 1953.
-
Mark Barron --
YIDDISH COMIC IS BIG HIT, "Democrat
Chronicle," Rochester, February 8, 1953.
-
Jesse Zunser
--DEBUTANTS FROM DOWNTOWN -- "CUE," February
14, 1953.
-
Richard Watts,
Jr. -- TWO ON THE AISLE -- "New York Post,"
May 7, 1953.
-
Arthur Gelb --
"SEASON'S" HAPPY MAN, "The New York Times,"
N.Y., June 14, 1953.
-
Leonard Lyons --
THE LYONS DEN, "New York Post," July 5,
1953.
-
Marcy Elias --
CURTAIN CUES -- "New York Post," July 16,
1953.
-
Robert Wahls --
MENASHA HAS ARRIVED BUT IT TOOK FIVE
SEASONS, "Sunday News," New York, September
27, 1953.
-
William A. Raily
-- SKULNIK'S "NO SCHLEMIEL, "Long Island
Press," New York, November 20, 1953.
-
Shimon
Wincelberg -- REPORT FROM THE OTHER COAST,
"The National Jewish Post," December 25,
1953.
-
Thomas R. Dash
-- PLAY ABOUT GARMENT TRADE LIGHTS BIRTHDAY
CANDLE, "Women's Wear Daily," January 29,
1954.
-
Robert Coleman
-- "FIFTH SEASON," IN SECOND YEAR, GETS NEW
COSTUMES, "Daily Mirror," February 3, 1954.
-
Leon Gutterman
-- OUR FILM FOLK, 'California Jewish Voice,"
May 14, 1954.
-
Elinor Hughes --
"Boston Herald," December 7, 1954.
-
Peggy Doyle --
"Boston Eve American," December 7, 1954.
-
Elliot Norton --
"Boston Post," December 7, 1954.
-
Elliot Norton --
"SECOND THOUGHTS OF A FIRST NIGHTER, "Sunday
Post Boston," December 12, 1954.
-
Brooks Atkinson
-- MENASHA SKULNIK IN "ODETS" PLAY ABOUT
NOAH, "New York Times," December 29, 1954.
-
Walter Kezz --
"World Tribune," December 29, 1954.
-
John Chapman --
"News," December 29, 1954.
-
John McClain --
HAIL ARTISTRY OF SKULNIK, "New York Journal
American," December 29, 1954.
-
Richard Watts
Jr. -- Post," December 29, 1954.
-
Walter Kezz --
"World Tribune," December 29, 1954.
-
Rowland Field --
"Newark Eve News," December 29, 1954.
-
Richard B. Cooke
-- SKULNIK AS "NOA," "Wall Street Journal,"
December 29, 1953.
-
Thomas R. Dash
-- "Women's Wear Daily," December 29, 1954.
-
Hal Eaton --
SKULNIK MAGNIFICENT IN FLOWERING PEACH,
"Long Island Daily Press," December 29,
1954.
-
Richard Watts
Jr. -- NOAH THE ARK AND MENASHA SKULNIK,
"New York Post," December 29, 1954.
-
William Hawkins
-- THEATRE, "New York World Telegram and
Sun," December 29, 1954.
-
Harold Stern --
"American Hebrew," December 30, 1954.
-
Sidney Fields --
MENASHA SKULNIK TRIP UPTOWN, "Daily Mirror,"
N.Y., December 31, 1954.
-
Sidney Fields --
ONLY HUMAN, "Daily Mirror," December 1954.
-
"Newsweek
Magazine" -- January 8, 1955.
-
"Times News
Magazine" -- January 10, 1955.
-
Chaim Ehrenreich
-- Kliford odet, der farfaser fun der piese
vegn noakh un dem mbul, "Forward," N.Y., 19
January 1955.
-
William Raidy --
HIGHEST FORM OF COMEDY IS TRAGEDY, SAYS
MAGNIFICENT MENASHA, "Long Island Free
Press," January 30, 1955.
-
Silvia Regan
-- TAILOR MADE FOR A STAR, 'Theatre Arts
Magazine," July 1956.
-
Herman Kuvins
-- [Chaim Ehrenreich] -- Farvos menasha
skulnik vet haynt nit shpiln oyf t-v, dort,
26 September 1956.
-
F.R.J. --
MENASHA SKULNIK PLAYS COMIC ROLE IN "UNCLE
WILLIE," "New Haven Journal--Courier,"
November 15, 1956.
-
R.J.L. --
"UNCLE WILLIE" PROVES PLEASING BILL AT
SHUBERT, "New Haven Evening Register,"
November 15, 1956.
-
Walter B.
Howard -- "UNCLE WILLIE" STARS SKULNIK AT
SHUBERT, "Yale Daily News," November 15,
1956.
-
B.C.W. --
HAVE YOU SEEN "UNCLE WILLIE" AT THE
SHUBERT?, "Meridon Record," November 16,
1956.
-
Cyrus Durgin
-- MILD AND MELLOW COMEDY SKULNIK IN "UNCLE
WILLIE," "The Boston Globe," November 20,
1956.
-
Peggy Boyle
-- SKULNIK PLAYS UNCLE ROLE WITH WARMTH,
"Boston Evening American," November 20,
1956.
-
Edwin F.
Mervin -- "UNCLE WILLIE" AT THE PLYMOUTH,
"Christian Science Monitor," Boston,
November 20, 1956.
-
Alta Maloney
-- "UNCLE WILLIE" OPENS NEW COMEDY PLYMOUTH,
"Boston Traveler," November 20, 1956.
-
Elinor Hughes
-- THE THEATRE, "The Boston Herald,"
November 20, 1956.
-
Bone -- SHOWS
OUT OF TOWN -- "Variety," New York, November
21, 1956.
-
R.E.P.
Sensenderfer -- "UNCLE WILLIE" BOWS AT
LOCUST, "The Evening Bulletin,"
Philadelphia, December 4, 1956.
-
Henry T.
Mordock -- SKULNIK STARS IN "UNCLE WILLIE,"
"Philadelphia Inquirer," December 4, 1956.
-
Jerry Gaghan
-- MENASHA SKULNIK STARS AS "UNCLE WILLIE,"
"Philadelphia Daily News," December 6, 1956.
-
Wayne
Robinson -- "UNCLE WILLIE" BUY CLOWN AT 10;
LEARNED ACTION ON ARCH ST. THEATRE, "The
Sunday Bulletin" -- Philadelphia, December
9, 1956.
-
Ossip Dymow
-- Menasha skulnik, "Daily Morning Journal,"
N.Y., 20 December 1956.
-
Ward
Murehouse -- SKULNIK FUNNY... PLAY ISN'T,
"Long Island Star Journal," December 21,
1956.
-
Walter Kerr
-- THEATER, "New York Herald Tribune,"
December 21, 1956.
-
John McClain
-- SKULNIK TRIES BUT PLAY FAILS TO COME
ALIVE, "New York Journal American," December
21, 1956.
-
John Chapman
-- "UNCLE WILLIE" SIMPLE COMEDY, BUT SKULNIK
IS A SUPERB COMEDIAN, "Daily News," New
York, December 21, 1956.
-
Richard Watts
Jr. -- TWO ON THE AISLE, "New York Post,"
December 21, 1956.
-
Tom Bonnelly
-- THERE'S A GOOD SCROOGE TONIGHT, "New York
World Telegram," December 21, 1956.
-
Brooks
Atkinson -- THEATRE -- "UNCLE WILLIE," "New
York Times," December 21, 1956.
-
Whitey Bolton
-- PLAY'S NOT THING, BUT SKULNIK IS!, "The
Morning Telegram," December 22, 1956.
-
Robert
Coleman -- MENASHA SKULNIK IS SUPERB IN
"UNCLE WILLIE," New York Mirror," December
22, 1956.
-
--The
Theatre, "The Wall Street Journal," New
York, December 24, 1956.
-
Hobe -- SHOWS
ON BROADWAY, "Variety," New York, December
26, 1956.
-
Walter Kerr
-- WATCH OUT FOLKS, HERE ARE THE "20'S,"
"Herald Tribune," December 30, 1956.
-
Charming
Menasha -- "Newsweek," January 7, 1957.
-
FRANCES
HERRIDGE -- ACROSS THE FOOTLIGHTS, "New York
Post," January 7, 1957.
-
WILLIAM
PEPPER -- SKULNIK, YOU MADE THE SUIT TOO
LONG!, "Telegram and Sun," January 18, 1957.
-
--UNCLE
WILLIE, "Theatre arts," February 1957.
-
HELEN ORMSBEE
-- HIS THIRD GENERATION OF FRIENDS," "Herald
Tribune," February 10, 1957.
-
ELEANOR
ROOSEVELT -- MAY DAY, "New York Post,"
November 11, 1957.
-
JIM GOODMAN
-- SCOOP LEWIS -- BROADWAY MUSICA LURE FOR
MENASHA, "Courier Times," July 31, 1958.
-
JOSEF MUSSMAN
-- SKULNIK STORIES GOOD AS ACTING, "The
Detroit News," August 13, 1958.
-
GLENNA SYSE
-- THAT LITTLE MAN SKULNIK IS BACK AGAIN,
"Chicago Sun-Times," August 19, 1958.
-
MARJORY ADAMS
-- MILD DOMESTICALLY INCLINED COMEDIAN
MENASHA SKULNIK DOESN'T LOOK LIKE ACTOR --
"The Boston Sun," November 25, 1958.
-
RAE GILDER --
"49TH COUSIN," "Miami Beach Sun," February
15, 1960.
-
JOHN GASSNER
-- "THEATRE AT THE CROSSROADS," New York,
1960, pp. 53, 237.
-
ELLIOT NORTON
-- CLASSIC HELEN OF TROY BEAUTIFUL, "Boston
Post," July 29, 1960.
-
JULES
WOLFFERS -- ARTS CENTER HELEN OF TROY,
"Boston Herald," July 29, 1960.
-
STALEY
RICHARDS -- A VISIT WITH MENASHA SKULNIK,
"Theatre Magazine," September 1960.
-
WAYNE
ROBINSON -- SKULNIK COMEDY SKILL IN 49TH
COUSIN, "Philadelphia Bulletin," October 11,
1960.
-
JOHN CHAPMAN
-- MENASHA SKULNIK IS WONDERFUL IN AN
ENDEARING COMEDY, "News," October 28, 1960.
-
R. YOUKELSON
-- Menasha skulnik in a fayner komedye, "Morgn
frayhayt," N.Y., 3 November 1960.
-
DR. N.
SWERDLIN -- Baym farhang, "Daily Morning
Journal," N.Y., 3 November 1960.
-
D. SEGAL -- [I.J.
SINGER] -- "Der 49t-ter kuzin" oyfgefirt in
ambasador teater, "Forward," N.Y., November
1960.
-
WALTER KERR
-- FIRST NIGHT REPORT, "New York Herald
Tribune," November 10, 1960.
-
CARL FELD --
MENASHA SKULNIK'S TRIUMPH IN THE 49TH
COUSIN, "American Examiner," November 10,
1960.
-
HOWARD
TAUBMAN -- MENASHA SKULNIK STARTS AT THE
AMBASSADOR, "New York times," November 10,
1960.
-
JOHN MCCLAIN
-- THE 49TH COUSIN, "Journal American,"
November 10, 1960.
-
RICHARD WATTS
JR. -- "TWO ON THE ISLE," "New York Post,"
November 10, 1960.
-
CARL FELL
-- MENASHA SKULNIK'S TRIUMPH IN "THE 49TH
COUSIN," "American Examiner," Nov. 10, 1960.
-
HOWARD
TAUBMAN -- SKULNIK A RIOT IN 49TH COUSIN,
"New York Times," November 19, 1960.
-
LEON
CHAIMOWITZ -- SKULNIK HAS SOME OLD TROUBLE,
"Newsday," November 30, 1960.
-
GEORGE BOURKE
-- SKULNIK GREAT IN "49TH COUSIN," "Miami
Herald," February 15, 1961.
-
HELEN MUIR --
MENASHA SKULNIK SHINES IN COMEDY AT
PLAYHOUSE, "Miami News," February 15, 1961.
-
LEON MENDLEK
-- NEED OF AN AUDIENCE BROUGHT SKULNIK TO
ENGLISH, "Jewish Floridian," Feb. 17, 1961.
-
BOURKE --
POPULAR SKULNIK IS INVITED BACK, "Miami
Herald," February 23, 1961.
-
PAUL M BRUUN
-- OVER MIAMI, "Miami Beach Sun," March 17,
1961.
-
JOHN
FINLAYSON -- PLAY JUST FITS SKULNIKS SKILL,
"Detroit News," June 21, 1961.
-
JOHN
FINLAYSON -- SKULNIK A LIFE TIME IN THEATRE,
"Detroit News," June 22, 1961.
-
JAMES POOLER
-- POOLER TALKS TO MENASHA SKULNIK, "Detroit
News," June 22, 1961.
-
WILLIAM
LEONARD -- AN EVENING WITH MENASHA SKULNIK,
"Chicago Courier," July 15, 1961.
-
JERRY GAGHAN
-- "Philadelphia Daily News," August 1,
1961.
-
HELEN MUIR --
SKULNIK SHARES A LAUGH, "Miami News,"
January 9, 1962.
-
Chaim
Ehrenreich -- Menasha skulnik zayne memauren,
"Forward," N.Y., 21 December 1962.
-
SKULNIK FACE,
FINGER AND PHRACE [sp] -- "Chicago Sunday
Times," June 4, 1963.
-
JERRY GAGHAN
-- "Philadelphia Daily News," July 2, 1963.
-
WAYNE
ROBINSON -- "Philadelphia Daily News," July
2, 1963.
-
NINA JONES --
THANKS TO SKULNIK, "Nayack," July 23, 1963.
-
KENNETH G.
WALLACE -- SKULNIK GENIUS SHINES IN RIOTOUS
PLAY, "Nayack," July 23, 1963.
-
MILTON
BERLINER -- "Washington Daily News,"
September 5, 1963.
-
FRANCIS
TAYLOR -- THE STAGE BELONGS TO SKULNIK,
"Long Island Press," October 2, 1963.
-
KENNETH G.
WALLACE -- SKULNIK A HIT AT MEL IN "SEIDMAN,"
"Paramus," October 7, 1964.
-
HELEN MUIR --
SKULNIK HIT IN GROVE COMEDY, "Miami News,"
January 27, 1965.
-
LOVABLE
MENASHA SPARKLES IN "SEIDMAN AND SON" --
"Miami Herald," January 28, 1965.
-
MARGARET
CAMPBELL -- ENTER LAUGHING TICKETS ALL THE
WAY, "Journal News," July 13, 1965.
-
KENNETH G.
WALLACE -- SKULNIK YOUTH SHINES IN TOPPEN
ZEE COMEDY, "The Record," July 13, 1965.
-
SANET CHUSMER
-- MENASHA JUST OPENS HIS MOUTH, "Daily Sun
Miami," August 3, 1965.
-
LOUIS COOK --
A CELEBRITY IN DETROIT, "Freepress,"
September 19, 1965.
-
HOWARD DA
SILVA -- THEY TALK ACROSS HEDGES, "Journal
American," October 24, 1965.
-
WALTER KERR
-- "THE ZULU AND THE ZAYDA," New York
Herald," November 11, 1965.
-
RICHARD WATTS
JR. -- TWO ON THE AISLE, "New York Post,"
November 11, 1965.
-
JERRY TALLMER
-- BROADWAY'S ZAYDA, "New York Post,"
November 29, 1965.
-
JOHN CHAPMAN
-- SKULNIK'S ZAYDA, "News," November 29,
1965.
-
ELLIOT NORTON
-- MENASHA EARNED 12 A WEEK IN HUB DEBUT,
"Boston Post," June 14, 1966.
-
NORA TAYLOR
-- ZAYDA BACK STAGE CHOOCHEM NEXT, "The
Christian Monitor," June 18, 1966.
-
ALAN BRANIGAN
-- SKULNIK STARS, 'Newark Eve News," June
29, 1966.
-
JOSEPH M.
GRANT -- SKULNIK TALENT GROWS IN ZUZU,
MILDURM, N.J., June 29, 1966.
-
DORE SCHARY
-- "THE THEATRE AS A SOCIAL FORCE," "Jewish
Heritage," New York, Summer 1966, pp. 24-26.
-
SKULNIK AND
HIS COLONEL TO ESCAPE ALL TOO SOON --
"Newsday," June 21, 1967.
-
JERY GAGHAN
-- MENASHA RETURNS TO PARK, "The News,"
Philadelphia, July 19, 1967.
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