Irene Ziegler's Blog, page 7
September 12, 2016
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February 1, 2016
Review of 'The Little Lion'
I am grateful to Tony Farrell for this review of my new play.
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Theater review: 'The Little Lion' 8 By TONY FARRELL Special correspondent
How smug we are to think that any of the seven deadly sins — pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth — might ever apply to us.
But beneath them all lurks an insidious eighth, forever haunting the human heart. It is resentment, leveling its corrosive, pedestrian gaze upon anyone it might blame for its troubles.
So let us be reminded yet again how Europe’s Jews fell squarely in its line of sight during the most shameful years of the 20th century with “The Little Lion,” playwright Irene Ziegler’s powerful and gripping masterwork now playing at Swift Creek Mill Theatre as part of the Acts of Faith Theatre Festival.
Expertly crafted by Ziegler from a young adult novel penned by noted local writer Nancy Wright Beasley, “The Little Lion” stares back, long and hard, into the face of creeping evil as Lithuania’s Jewish population is systematically decimated prior to and during World War II.
Hewing as closely to real-life facts and details as Beasley was able to determine from extensive research for her book, “The Little Lion” focuses on Laibale Gillman, a Kaunas, Lithuania, teenager who used his skills as a mechanic to ingratiate himself with occupying Russian and Nazi forces.
Through his special — if tenuous — status, Gillman eventually was able to smuggle food, medicine and even friends and family across the lines of the city’s Jewish ghetto.
But do not mistake “The Little Lion” for a broad-brush retelling of familiar stories about Jewish resistance to the Nazi extermination machine.
Instead, we are shoved roughly and intentionally into the tragedy’s chilling backstory: how non-Jewish Lithuanians murderously turned upon their own countrymen, riding a wave of European nationalism to blame Jews for income disparities, Soviet annexation, communist control and any other axes they could find to grind.
As Laibale, John Mincks leads a cast of 23 excellent actors as “Lion” opens on a scene of the boy’s victory in a motorcycle race. But even as finches tweet on the clear Baltic air, persistent, casual disdain for the Jews — along with acid epithets — cloud the sights and sounds of youthful abandon and family togetherness.
Ziegler carefully uses the smallest details of daily life, such as peeling potatoes and using a sewing machine, as portents of horrors to come. Laibale’s mother even senses the coming storm in the changing sound of the birdsong.
“Hunger turns to accusation, torment, grief,” she says.
Even as the Jews are abandoned, abused, segregated and murdered, first by their neighbors and then by the Nazis, Ziegler manages to salt the sober story with peppy humor, and director Tom Width keeps the pacing as tight as possible even as “Lion,” which resists easy trimming and runs more than two hours, samples the complicated ingredients of human anger and brutality.
Former U.S. Ambassador to Lithuania Anne Derse, who attended the opening-night world premiere of “The Little Lion” with current Lithuanian Ambassador to the U.S. Rolandas Kriščiūnas, noted that more than 90 percent of Lithuanian Jews lost their lives during the war era.
“History books are one thing, but when you hear the story of something, that history comes alive,” she told the audience before the show.
Derse, who served as ambassador from 2009 to 2012, added that U.S. assistance provided to Lithuania since the country’s formal recognition as an independent state in 1991 comes with a request that Lithuania continuously work toward educating its citizens about the country’s actions against the Jews during the war.
“Tolerance is something you have to teach every generation,” she said.
In pre-show remarks of his own, Kriščiūnas, who toured the Virginia Holocaust Museum with Derse prior to the show, praised “The Little Lion” and agreed that the Holocaust was a dark page of world history.
“You could not imagine darker ones,” he said. “But I can’t imagine any other time for when looking back is also looking forward.”
“The Little Lion” will not reward those who may yearn for an upbeat ending. Joe Doran’s careful lighting and Jason Herbert’s useful projections track the desperate strategizing and ultimate destinies of key characters, almost all of whom perished (though one Gillman family member, whose story of being spirited out of Kaunas by Laibale as a baby is depicted in the drama, also attended opening night).
But the events, personalities and courage we witness in “The Little Lion” tell us that the act of remembering may be the first step in helping to prevent the unthinkable from happening again.
“May we always know who we are, from whence we came, and what we have endured,” a clutch of Jews prays as they bury a box of photos, sketches and journals that will prove to the future that the Holocaust really happened.
Thanks in part to them, today we say two simple, somber words: “Never forget.”
Add now three more to mark this excellent, essential premiere of “The Little Lion.”
Don’t miss it.
Contact Tony Farrell at tlcoryell@aol.com.
Clement Britt Nancy Wright Beasley, author of The Little Lion: A Hero of the Holocaust, poses onstage at Swift Creek Mill Theatre. January 13, 2016 'The Little Lion'Theater reviewWhere: Swift Creek Mill Theatre, 17401 Jefferson Davis Highway, South ChesterfieldWhen: through March 5Tickets: $38 theater only; $55 buffet and theaterDetails: www.swiftcreekmill.com or (804) 748-5203Similar articles
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Theater review: 'The Little Lion' 8 By TONY FARRELL Special correspondent
How smug we are to think that any of the seven deadly sins — pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth — might ever apply to us.
But beneath them all lurks an insidious eighth, forever haunting the human heart. It is resentment, leveling its corrosive, pedestrian gaze upon anyone it might blame for its troubles.So let us be reminded yet again how Europe’s Jews fell squarely in its line of sight during the most shameful years of the 20th century with “The Little Lion,” playwright Irene Ziegler’s powerful and gripping masterwork now playing at Swift Creek Mill Theatre as part of the Acts of Faith Theatre Festival.
Expertly crafted by Ziegler from a young adult novel penned by noted local writer Nancy Wright Beasley, “The Little Lion” stares back, long and hard, into the face of creeping evil as Lithuania’s Jewish population is systematically decimated prior to and during World War II.
Hewing as closely to real-life facts and details as Beasley was able to determine from extensive research for her book, “The Little Lion” focuses on Laibale Gillman, a Kaunas, Lithuania, teenager who used his skills as a mechanic to ingratiate himself with occupying Russian and Nazi forces.
Through his special — if tenuous — status, Gillman eventually was able to smuggle food, medicine and even friends and family across the lines of the city’s Jewish ghetto.
But do not mistake “The Little Lion” for a broad-brush retelling of familiar stories about Jewish resistance to the Nazi extermination machine.
Instead, we are shoved roughly and intentionally into the tragedy’s chilling backstory: how non-Jewish Lithuanians murderously turned upon their own countrymen, riding a wave of European nationalism to blame Jews for income disparities, Soviet annexation, communist control and any other axes they could find to grind.
As Laibale, John Mincks leads a cast of 23 excellent actors as “Lion” opens on a scene of the boy’s victory in a motorcycle race. But even as finches tweet on the clear Baltic air, persistent, casual disdain for the Jews — along with acid epithets — cloud the sights and sounds of youthful abandon and family togetherness.
Ziegler carefully uses the smallest details of daily life, such as peeling potatoes and using a sewing machine, as portents of horrors to come. Laibale’s mother even senses the coming storm in the changing sound of the birdsong.
“Hunger turns to accusation, torment, grief,” she says.
Even as the Jews are abandoned, abused, segregated and murdered, first by their neighbors and then by the Nazis, Ziegler manages to salt the sober story with peppy humor, and director Tom Width keeps the pacing as tight as possible even as “Lion,” which resists easy trimming and runs more than two hours, samples the complicated ingredients of human anger and brutality.
Former U.S. Ambassador to Lithuania Anne Derse, who attended the opening-night world premiere of “The Little Lion” with current Lithuanian Ambassador to the U.S. Rolandas Kriščiūnas, noted that more than 90 percent of Lithuanian Jews lost their lives during the war era.
“History books are one thing, but when you hear the story of something, that history comes alive,” she told the audience before the show.
Derse, who served as ambassador from 2009 to 2012, added that U.S. assistance provided to Lithuania since the country’s formal recognition as an independent state in 1991 comes with a request that Lithuania continuously work toward educating its citizens about the country’s actions against the Jews during the war.
“Tolerance is something you have to teach every generation,” she said.
In pre-show remarks of his own, Kriščiūnas, who toured the Virginia Holocaust Museum with Derse prior to the show, praised “The Little Lion” and agreed that the Holocaust was a dark page of world history.
“You could not imagine darker ones,” he said. “But I can’t imagine any other time for when looking back is also looking forward.”
“The Little Lion” will not reward those who may yearn for an upbeat ending. Joe Doran’s careful lighting and Jason Herbert’s useful projections track the desperate strategizing and ultimate destinies of key characters, almost all of whom perished (though one Gillman family member, whose story of being spirited out of Kaunas by Laibale as a baby is depicted in the drama, also attended opening night).
But the events, personalities and courage we witness in “The Little Lion” tell us that the act of remembering may be the first step in helping to prevent the unthinkable from happening again.
“May we always know who we are, from whence we came, and what we have endured,” a clutch of Jews prays as they bury a box of photos, sketches and journals that will prove to the future that the Holocaust really happened.
Thanks in part to them, today we say two simple, somber words: “Never forget.”
Add now three more to mark this excellent, essential premiere of “The Little Lion.”
Don’t miss it.
Contact Tony Farrell at tlcoryell@aol.com.
Clement Britt Nancy Wright Beasley, author of The Little Lion: A Hero of the Holocaust, poses onstage at Swift Creek Mill Theatre. January 13, 2016 'The Little Lion'Theater reviewWhere: Swift Creek Mill Theatre, 17401 Jefferson Davis Highway, South ChesterfieldWhen: through March 5Tickets: $38 theater only; $55 buffet and theaterDetails: www.swiftcreekmill.com or (804) 748-5203Similar articlesSign in Username or Email Password Forgot PasswordUsername or Email Forgot PasswordUsername or Email
January 28, 2016
The Little Lion
My new play, The Little Lion, which I wrote while housesitting in CA this summer, will have its world premiere January 30th, 2016 at Swift Creek Mill Theatre in Virginia. Adapted from the novel by Nancy Wright Beasley and inspired by true events, it follows the courageous efforts of a Jewish adolescent during World War II as he attempts to free his family from the Kovno ghetto in Lithuania. Photos by Robyn O'Neill.
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June 10, 2015
Housesitting in Sonoma, CA
I am a member of a website called TrustedHousesitters.com. If you end up joining, please give me credit for sending you there. I get points.
As a member, I get a daily email listing want ads from selected places around the world, all pet or home owners who want somebody to stay in their homes while they are away.
I've spent six weeks in England, one week in San Francisco, one week in Portland, four days in Asheville, and now, seven weeks in Sonoma, CA, which ends July 7.
[image error] I am having the best time in Sonoma. I am sitting two ragdoll cats and a mellow Sheltie.
[image error]
The homeowners very generously gave me use of their car, so I am drinking in the sights in wine country, CA. Today, I visited the redwood forest in Guerneville, CA.
I came across an outdoor theatre among the redwoods and felt like I was in church.
I also visited the Korbel Champagne winery in Guerneville, CA. I happened to have voiced their ad for Sweet Rose and Sweet Cuvee.They were not particularly impressed with that fact, but hey. I was amused. If you'd like to listen to that ad, here's the link:
http://www.ispot.tv/ad/7Ysy/korbel-sweet-cuvee-sweet-rose-two-colors.
I am writing a play while here, so I have to discipline myself. Mornings are for the animals, and writing. Afternoons are for me.
I love my life.
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As a member, I get a daily email listing want ads from selected places around the world, all pet or home owners who want somebody to stay in their homes while they are away.
I've spent six weeks in England, one week in San Francisco, one week in Portland, four days in Asheville, and now, seven weeks in Sonoma, CA, which ends July 7.
[image error] I am having the best time in Sonoma. I am sitting two ragdoll cats and a mellow Sheltie.
[image error]
The homeowners very generously gave me use of their car, so I am drinking in the sights in wine country, CA. Today, I visited the redwood forest in Guerneville, CA.
I came across an outdoor theatre among the redwoods and felt like I was in church.
I also visited the Korbel Champagne winery in Guerneville, CA. I happened to have voiced their ad for Sweet Rose and Sweet Cuvee.They were not particularly impressed with that fact, but hey. I was amused. If you'd like to listen to that ad, here's the link:
http://www.ispot.tv/ad/7Ysy/korbel-sweet-cuvee-sweet-rose-two-colors.
I am writing a play while here, so I have to discipline myself. Mornings are for the animals, and writing. Afternoons are for me.
I love my life.
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May 3, 2015
So This is Happening
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December 1, 2014
Ashes to Water
My DAD died.
Six weeks prior, I was performing in a play in Idaho when I called home, and was told he went into the hospital for pneumonia. I called him and he said he'd be fine. My mother said he'd be fine. My sister, in confidence, said he wouldn't be fine. Dad's medical team had discovered a large mass in his lungs, and he didn't want me to know because I was having too much fun in Idaho.
I went to DeLand, FL, the place I still call "home." He and mom had decided together that he would refuse treatment. A hospice team made him comfortable in his bedroom, and he went about the difficult business of shuffling off this mortal coil.
It wasn't pretty. Because the cancer was so advanced, his decline was rapid, the only thing for which I'm grateful. I still wake at night with visions of his eyes, marbled before passing; his gaunt frame, his disappointment each time he woke, welcoming and believing the end would come even sooner.
Right up to the end he remained conscious, lucid, irreverent, and Dad. I told him he had done everything right, that the only thing I ever lacked was a pony. He said, "Get my checkbook."
Two months after he died, the extended Ziegler family assembled at the lake where I learned to swim, and watched my mom scatter his ashes over the water. It was a profound yet austere moment--primal, iconic, and searing. Mom felt badly that some of the ashes landed on the lily pads. She felt it was undignified, somehow.
I loved it.
Here's my dad's obit. He gave me the first line. It's a good first line.
Bye, Dad. Catch you on the flip side where I'm sure there will be a pony waiting.
Ronald Edward Ziegler of DeLand earned his second pair of wings on August 4, 2014. He died at home, surrounded by loved ones. He was 85.
After attending the University of Connecticut, Ron served in the Air Force from 1950 to 1961, and earned a set of wings during the Korean War. While at Travis Air Force Base, he met Adeline Simonis, a nursing supervisor, as she read a book on beachcombing, an interest he shared. They married in 1952. Ron and Del moved to Florida in 1956. They built a home on Lake Byron in DeLand, and raised four girls. In addition to his military service, Ron was most proud of his work as a private investigator; he successfully tracked down missing children during the 1970's. He also worked for many years as an insurance adjustor for Retail Credit Company.
Ron lead a full and active life. He was a regular at the DeLand YMCA, and an avid carpenter, gardener, mechanic, craftsman, treasure hunter, and outdoorsman. He solved The New York Times crossword puzzle daily. He was fond of scattering pennies on playgrounds, then watching as children discovered them.
Ron is survived by his wife of 61 years, Adeline Simonis Ziegler, and four daughters: Karen Ziegler of Winter Springs; Irene Ziegler of Richmond, VA; June Ziegler White (and spouse Paul White) of Galveston, TX; and Patte Ziegler Campbell of DeLand. He has two brothers, Wayne Ziegler of Port Orange, and Melvin Ziegler, Jr., deceased. He has three grandchildren, Tracy White Price (and spouse Jason Price), Christopher White, and Addison Ziegler Martz; and one great-grandchild Jacey Price.
He was a hero to his family, and loved them well. body {font-family:helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:12px;} a.stbar.chicklet img {border:0;height:16px;width:16px;margin-right:3px;vertical-align:middle;} a.stbar.chicklet {height:16px;line-height:16px;}
April 1, 2014
In Which I'm Featured in "The Walking Dead"
I'm in the last episode of season 4 of THE WALKING DEAD. That's my voice in the trailer (link below). Cool!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=En-PD...
And thank you to Laura Morland and her niece, who found my character's wikipage: (who knew?)
http://walkingdead.wikia.com/wiki/Bro...
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March 24, 2014
In Which My Voice is Featured in "The Walking Dead"
I'm in the last episode of season 5 of THE WALKING DEAD. That's my voice in the trailer. Cool!body {font-family:helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:12px;} a.stbar.chicklet img {border:0;height:16px;width:16px;margin-right:3px;vertical-align:middle;} a.stbar.chicklet {height:16px;line-height:16px;}
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BYvL-3nPBOE
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BYvL-3nPBOE
February 2, 2014
Meanwhile, thirty-odd years later...
I've been having professional headshots made every three years or so, since my mid-twenties. Black and white was the order of the day for actors in the 1980s. Then, as in the second half of The Wizard of Oz, color was invented. Looking at these two selves, I notice the older me is more engaged, though thinner of lip and extremely low on melatonin. Both have that oh-so-employable "Whaddayoulookinat?" attitude, and I particularly like the weird eyes in the recent shot. "Come another step closer and I may have to bite you," it says. Not exactly the message one wants to convey to a director, but hey, it beats, "I'm desperate," although not by much. I'm more in demand than I was in 1980-something, a testament to persistence rather than anything else. In this business, longevity pays. Stick around long enough and you might get lucky.And we have been lucky. And we're grateful.
Now go on, get outtaheah before I get desperate.
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November 12, 2013
In Which I Create a Spark
<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi; color:black;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} </style> --> <div class="MsoNormal">So I’ve been having trouble bonding with my house. We didn’t choose one another. It used to belong to my former husband and now it belongs to me. We’ve been cordial, the house and I, but really, we’re missing that spark. So I’m going to create one. A spark, that is.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">I’m building a wood burning fireplace. Well, I’M not building it. I’m paying out the nose to have it built for me. It’s not finished. Right now, it looks like this:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PU5MmRQPG0Y..." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PU5MmRQPG0Y..." width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">And this:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xo0WPvkXwHE..." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xo0WPvkXwHE..." width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">I’m putting a lot of pressure on this fireplace. I’m convinced this fire place will bridge the gap between the house and I, make me want to come home to it, make it okay to sit quietly and read. Or write. Neither of which I’m doing enough of. In other words, I’m banking on this fireplace to make me fall in love with my house, and by association, my life.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">I could be setting myself up for rejection and/or major disappointment. What if the fire place does nothing more than make my house smell like smoke?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">That’s already happened, by the way. I lit a fire last week (after talking with the contractor, mind you, and getting his go-ahead) and everything went really well. Until it didn’t. I forgot about the tarp over the chimney.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">The good news is, all the smoke detectors in my house work.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Did you know that you can yank the battery out of a smoke detector and it will CONTINUE to screech? True fact. Here’s another: it takes a day to air out a house that has been smoked. And it was a LITTLE fire. Teeny tiny. Like, it could hardly even melt a hunk of brie on a stick. Not that I tried that.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">But things will be different tonight. Tonight, they’re calling for snow, and I’d REALLY like to fire up this sucker, move the couch back where it belongs, pour a brandy, sit down and pretend to read a book while smoke goes UP AND OUT of the chimney. That would make me really happy. That would make me love my house. That would make me love my life.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">And if it doesn’t, then I’ll get a pony and name it Sparky. THEN I'll be happy.</div><script src="http://w.sharethis.com/button/shareth..." type="text/javascript"></script><style type="text/css">body {font-family:helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:12px;} a.stbar.chicklet img {border:0;height:16px;width:16px;margin-right:3px;vertical-align:middle;} a.stbar.chicklet {height:16px;line-height:16px;} </style>
