The cast of The Huntington’s production of Tom Stoppard’s “Leopoldstadt,” photo Liza Voll. Projection design by Yuki Izumihara.
Presented by The Huntington
Produced in association with Shakespeare Theatre Company
Written by Tom Stoppard
Directed by Carey Perloff
Fight Director and Intimacy Consultant: Jesse Hinson
Movement director: Daniel Pelzig
Dialect Coach: Lee Nishri-Howitt
Dramaturgy by Charles Haugland and Drew Lichtenberg
Digital Playbill
September 12 – October 13, 2024
The Huntington Theatre
264 Huntington Ave.
Boston, MA 02115
Approximate run time: 2 hours and 20 minutes, plus one 15-minute intermission.
Article by Kitty Drexel
BOSTON — The Huntington presents Tom Stoppard’s Leopoldstadt at 264 Huntington Avenue in Boston. Leopoldstadt is a two-act play that dissects the scarring consequences of Vienna’s existing early 20th-century anti-semitism and later genocide of its Jewish citizens during WWII on one extended family. It plays through October 13.
Writing this response to Wednesday night’s performance has been difficult. Leopoldstadt is a powerful play. Its cast performs brilliantly. Director Perloff gives this epic play life and believability. I wept bitterly during Act 1 and Act 2.
Stoppard shows us how well his Viennese family showed love through the generations. We crack their jokes, participate in their discussions, and watch their babies grow. We attend as a conservative political regime causes this family’s social and fiscal decline. Finally, our attentions are glued to their pointless murders. Mine were not the only eyes weeping on Wednesday evening.
It is impossible for me to write an unbiased critique of Leopoldstadt. My paternal grandmother, Margaret “Gretl” Metzner (nee Vogl), was born in Vienna in 1917. Her first husband George Drexel was born in Munich, Germany in 1923. Her second husband Adam Metzner, my beloved grandpa, was born in Kirchaich, Bavaria in 1917. The family records are incomplete, but family lore and photographs lead me to believe that at least one of my grandparents was a Nazi.
We must discuss our shame to prevent it from happening to others.
I cannot say if my grandfathers were conscripted into the army or if they joined willingly. I suspect Grandma’s parents toed the party line so she did too. It doesn’t matter why. A Nazi is a Nazi is a Nazi.
I love my deceased grandparents. As a toddler, I remember being rocked in a cradle while my Grandma Gretl sang offkey tunes to me in German. I have sleepy memories of Grandma and Grandpa Adam creaking open the door of our shared bedroom in the early morning to watch us kids sleeping. They’d coo at us in delight because they were so happy and then close the door again with excited whispers.
Gretl celebrated our quarterly visits to her home like the birth of Christ: plates of freshly steamed root vegetables, fresh Gurkensalat, lamb or duck, steaming potato dumplings with a crouton in the center, a mountain of buttery mashed potatoes with smooth brown gravy, bottles of champagne, froufrou cakes, pies, sugary Vanillekipferl, and a bottomless pot of rich coffee that put a hop in your step. She and Grandpa Adam loved watching my brothers and I tuck into dumpling soup and crispy pork schnitzel at Easter. She wanted to make us fat like the gingerbread children in “Hänsel und Gretl,” and she did.
Grandma supported my theatre education. She loved to hear me sing and gathered the family to listen to whatever I was working on at the Conservatory when we visited. Gretl wanted to show me the Vienna from her childhood but never got the chance.
I don’t know for certain if Grandma Gretl and Grandpa George were Nazis. My family didn’t discuss their origins pre-immigration. There is one undated family photo of Grandpa Drexel in German military dress uniform. Ancestry.com has some of their naturalization papers but much of the paperwork is confusing or incomplete.
Grandpa Adam occasionally shared WWII stories. He said he deserted his post in Bavaria by driving his smaller tank over a much larger tank to freedom. I was once proud of Adam’s tenacity when I thought this was just another funny story about Grandpa’s stubborn nature. That was until I pieced together when this might’ve happened and why. Now I feel shame.
Many things can be true at the same time. It is possible to love someone who has done unspeakable things. It is possible to grieve for a family you will never know from the time before you were born.
My beloved Grandparents were on the wrong side of history. I shudder to think, were neo-Nazis to take power in the US, I might be one of the millions of people massacred as a matter of logistics: gay, disabled, free-thinking, educated, recovering Catholic. My grandparents didn’t have to personally assist Hitler for their hands to be soaked in blood. All they had to do was do what they were told.
I air this filthy laundry because good people are capable of horrendous acts of prolonged cruelty and violence. People like to claim they’d never do such a thing, but here we are facing an election year with a known anti-semite, neo-Nazi fascist, and Christian nationalist bigot as the Republican presidential candidate. It’s as easy as saying nothing as the Niemöller poem says.
My grandparents loved me, and at least one of them enabled the deaths of millions of Jewish people by merely doing his job as a Nazi soldier. I love my grandparents, and I will never forgive them for their part in history. Because even if they weren’t Nazis, they did run from Nazi fascism without assisting anyone else. It’s not enough to save yourself; you must also intentionally save others.
Leopoldstadt is a splendid work of art featuring many great performances. A recent discussion with a friend (who would also be murdered by Nazis) reminded me that tickets to professional theatre are expensive. If you’re waffling between seeing it and not seeing it and can afford the ticket: do attend. The Huntington has ticket discounts available on its site. Please check to see if you qualify. You can still borrow the play from the library when it’s published.
UPDATE 9/23/24: Reps from The Huntington have graciously notified us that there are oodles of discounted tickets available. There are Pay-What-You-Wish tickets for in-person purchase at the box office. The Huntington also offers initiatives to community members: $40 for patrons under 40, Student tickets, and Huntington Community Membership Initiative (HCMI) tickets. More info is HERE. Many thanks to Lyndsay Allyn Cox and Gabrielle Jaques for the website details!
Internet folklore can be good.
