M. Osherowitz says this
about her move to the Yiddish stage:
“Here, her Yiddish song
found itself a home. She felt that she was among her own
people, in her own atmosphere, and the sad tenor of her
Yiddish song found an echo in the hearts of thousands of
her own people who longed for them.”
Several wealthy people were
interested in her and wanted to give her the chance to
study to be an opera singer, but just at that time,
Abraham Goldfaden came to Lemberg to stage his plays,
and learning that P. wanted to abandon the Yiddish
stage, convinced her that on the non-Yiddish stage she
would come to play roles in which she would have to make
the sign of the cross. This had such an effect on her
that she gave up her aspiration to become an opera
singer.
P.’s fame as a leading lady
in Yiddish theatre reached America. She was particularly
well-known in the Galician neighborhoods at that time,
and several attempts were made to bring her to America.
To that end, the actor Berl Bernshtayn (who had appeared
with her on stage before) came to Lemberg several times,
until in the end, P. went to America in August, 1895.
There she appeared in New
York’s Windsor Theatre (manager, Professor Hurvits) as
Dina in Goldfaden’s Bar Kokhba. The impression
that her performance made in America was described by
Bessie Thomashefsky, who appeared with her:
“Regina Prager performed in
Shulamis, Bar Kokhba, and other plays from the
repertoire, and her success was enormous. She charmed
the public with her wonderful singing.
… whomever heard the sweet,
holy song of Regina Prager experienced a soulful
pleasure that could not be measured, just as one cannot
measure the soul itself. We were justly proud of Regina
Prager.
Several weeks later, when
Regina Prager had already played in the limited number
of musicals in our repertoire, we presented a new play
with a singing role written especially for Regina Prager
by Professor Hurvits. The play was titled, Khazari,
and the music was by Zigmund Mogulesko. The play was a
great success.”
Bessie Thomashefsky also
quotes critic of that era:
“The offering of The
Sacrifice of Isaac on the Yiddish stage in the
Windsor Theatre was completely successful … Who can
compare to the world-famous leading lady, Miss Regina
Prager, in the role of Sara? She abandoned her whole
self to The Sacrifice of Isaac, with great
triumph as a result.”
Among the different plays
that P. performed in the Windsor Theatre is Prof.
Hurvits’ Destruction of Kishinev (1903, soon
after the pogrom), in which she sang Frug’s poem with
the well-known verse, “Give shrouds for the dead, and
for the living—bread”, and with that, according to J.
Kirschbaum, P. helped to gather the first assistance for
the victims of the Kishinev pogrom.
P.’s success as a leading
lady forced the other troupes to bring new leading
ladies from Europe. Thus, Bertha Kalich came to America
and began—according to Bessie Thomashefsky—a competition
between the two new leading ladies:
“The new leading lady Bertha
Kalich appeared in Shulamis (the hallmark for
every leading lady) together with a new actor, Shramek,
as Avishalom and … our Regina Prager emerged as
the leading lady of singers. Certainly, Kalich could
act, but [in] singing Prager is an only daughter in
Yiddish theatre.”
Just as with the other
stars, a group of “patriots” created a club in P.’s name
and conducted “struggles” with the rival “patriots”—as
described by B. Balzam [B. Botwinik] from a conversation
with one of these “patriots”:
“Madame Prager’s 'patriots'
expected a sudden ambush, an attack from Madame Kalich’s
'patriots,' who could not bear to witness a stranger,
Madame Prager, take on a role that earlier belonged to
their star, Madame Kalich. The first thing that the
Prager “patriots” did was to provide themselves tickets,
so that they could not be thrown out of the theatre.
This was a standard custom, as genuine 'patriots' such
as those were recognized by the managers would not pay
for tickets, but in this case the Prager 'patriots' did
not look for 'bargains' [deals] and made a point of
paying. Immediately afterward, supposedly, the
'patriots' took up their 'weapons.' They armed
themselves, each with whatever he could—sticks, clubs,
bats (wooden sticks that are used to play baseball),
iron pipes, and similar 'weapons.' Before the
performance began, the gallery was already seated.
The plan of the “patriots”
was not to start a fight, not to make any trouble, and
to keep the gallery quiet as usual, so that Madame
Prager would not be disturbed in her singing. For this
reason, the “patriots” did not hide their “weapons”.
They held their cudgels high and ready to use. But that
was only a demonstration to show the Kalich “patriots”
that here, they could do nothing, because they would end
up with broken heads if they so much as opened their
mouths.
But in order for the plan to
succeed, the Prager 'patriots' were forced to stand the
whole time during the performance with their backs to
the stage and their faces toward their enemies, the
Kalich 'patriots.' They knew that as soon as they let
their minds wander for even one minute, the Kalich
'patriots' would immediately 'knock heads.' because
those others were a nimble brotherhood and also had the
means to strike back. Their determination deserted them.
They wanted to take a look at their dear Prager. They
could hear her sweet nightingale voice. But how could
they stand that way all night in the theatre and not
even steal one glance at the star, who was as beloved to
them as a family member, dearer than their lives? They
were forbidden to do anything, and it was for the sake
of her alone, because she was performing her role for
the first time, and they had to be still and quiet so
that she could display her art.
… The Prager 'patriots' had
a comforting name, the best. People thought that was
because in private life, she [P.] did not make a big
fuss, kept herself unpretentious, and was friendly to
everyone, above all to her admirers. She was often at
the meetings of the society that her 'patriots' held.
She often used to spend time with them, and she pressed
the hand of almost every one of them when she arrived
and when she left.”
In a belletristic manner,
Zalman Zylbercweig described P.’s “first appearance” in
America in the chapter, “Modesty” in his book Theatre
Mosaic:
“Men ... had certainly
turned up their noses at the new actress. She was far
from pretty, although completely pleasant. Her face was
more maternal, motherly, like a married woman. Although
she was still young, the new leading lady, Regina
Prager, nevertheless did not tempt or arouse the young.
Furthermore, her acting and her speech were not
spirited, but when she opened her mouth and released the
first note, she enchanted everyone … Streams of tender
melody flowed from her and surged over the stage and
over the theatre. The audience was lured to her song,
and it was as though they rose from the earth. A
forgetfulness subdued everyone, and at the moment when
she finished singing, everyone awoke and applauded her …
with avid eyes, after the performance they [the
enthusiastic theatre-goer, the so-called
“theatre-patriots”] waited for the new leading lady, who
gone quickly home through a back door to shed the
trappings of the falsely modest Delilah and resume her
identity as a pious, pure Jewish wife, whom God had
burdened with a beautiful voice and formed her a
temptation—for theatre.
Similarly, Joseph Rumshinsky
writes:
“… The theatre-life, the
Russian nightlife, the women’s styles, even the theatre
politics, the babble of meaningless talk and the delving
into love-intrigues, had no effect on Madame Prager.
Tragedies played out before
her eyes, murders, weddings, legal and illegal loves—she
noticed none of it. It’s better to say, she more than
noticed it, even knew all the details, but it had no
effect on her and made no impression. She was at the
synagogue on the Days of Awe and the rest of the year
she was at home. In the theatre she sat in her dressing
room, where she got dressed. Everywhere, she remained
Madame Prager. She didn’t impose on anyone with her
piety and her modesty, but by the same token, the
theatre atmosphere had no effect on her.
…The house would be
thundering like cannons with applause. After such cries
of “hurrah” and applause from the public, she would
shrink, as if she didn’t want to be noticed by anyone.
She would sit in her little room, looking at a book or
doing something for her home. Her fear of God was
reflected in her theatrical performance. When she came
on Friday nights to bless the lights on the stage, she
never kindled the lights before the public—they had to
be burning earlier, or they be kindled electrically.
On Rosh Hashana, she refused
to perform. And when she couldn’t avoid it and had to
perform, they had to delay the matinee performance until
Madame Prager returned from the synagogue, where she had
a good cry and prayed earnestly to God.
“God, don’t humiliate me!”
—Madame Prager used these words every evening before her
appearance on the stage, and with these words did she
retire from the stage, perhaps because she began to feel
that the younger generation was waiting to take her
place. But we can comfort her by saying that to our
regret, although it has already been a good two years
since she left the Yiddish stage, no other Madame Prager
has appeared, not even someone almost as good as Madame
Prager.
… Her voice, besides being
rich in color, strong, loud but at the same time
agreeable, had a naturally affective tone, which is the
case with all great opera singers. But her retiring,
modest lifestyle was a great hindrance to her opera
career.
Her voice had a dramatic,
even and rich sound that could easily changing into
coloratura and staccato and obtain the lightness and
suppleness of a real lyric soprano. This skill enchanted
her listeners. When she sang, a breathtaking stillness
presided in the theatre, and no one dared to break it
until her last finale of a song or waltz-number, when
the whole theatre burst in a storm of cheering.
… Because she didn’t have
much training, she sometimes missed the correct breath
and the correct intonation, but the richness of her
tone, the timbre, her blessed throat was enchanting and
the audience forgot everything.”
For a long time, P. was not
engaged to appear in any New York theatre and would
appear from time to time only around the state, or she
took part in special performances from the older
repertoire. In the beginning of the 1917-1918 season,
she had, through the initiative of Joseph Rumshinsky, an
engagement in the National Theatre (manager, Boris
Thomashefsky), where she substituted for the ailing
leading lady, Regina Zuckerberg, in the operetta,
Mazl Tov, and soon after in Thomashefsky and
Rumshinsky’s operetta, The Female Cantor, where
she returned to her former, customary popularity by
playing the role of the cantoress and singing the song,
“The Kaddish” and (together with Kalmen Juvelier) “Honor
your Father and Mother.”
Regarding her performance in
The Female Cantor, Joseph Rumshinsky writes in
his book, Sounds from My Life:
“The transition in Madame
Prager’s career happened before my eyes—from the beloved
leading lady role, to the singing-mother roles. It was I
who brought this about and it is quite likely that at
first, she was a little angry at me, because no actor,
and particularly no actress, would admit so quickly that
it was time to start playing older roles; and even such
a reserved person as Madame Prager would not, at first,
admit it so lightly.
But with her first
singing-mother role, for which I wrote for her the music
to Boris Thomashefsky’s text, The Female Cantor,
those of us on stage, together with the public, felt
that Madame Prager embraced the role—the holy,
patriarchal figure of the cantoress suited her. She
spoke and sang the pious words from the female cantor’s
prose and melodies with such a full heart and soul, that
people used to feel that she was delighted with the
words that she spoke and sang, and that she experienced
them.”
“The Female Cantor—writes
M. Osherowitz—was a big success, and Madame Prager had a
considerable part in it; she was a big hit, with her
heartfelt singing and with her fine acting; for the
first time on the Yiddish stage, people saw something
new—a leading lady in an older role; a leading lady as a
mother, a leading lady as a grandmother, but one who
could sing beautifully and act sincerely and naturally.
And from then on, the
Yiddish operetta stage was enriched with a whole array
of types of singing mothers, of singing grandmothers,
and all these types were created especially for Madame
Prager, and she graced them with her authentically
Yiddish singing.”
In the 1918-1919 season, P.
continued to appear at the National Theatre and
performed in Thomashefsky-Rumshinsky’s The Merry
Little Jews and in their operetta, The Little Old
Song.”
In 1919-1920, she was
engaged at Kessler’s Second Avenue Theatre (manager
Joseph Edelstein), where she performed in Gershom Bader
and Rumshinsky’s The Rabbi’s Melody, and in the
1919-1920 season she appeared in the same theatre in
Lillian and Rumshinsky’s The Stepchild of the World,
and in Michael Goldberg and Rumshinsky’s The
Grandmother’s Legacy. In 1921-1922 she performed in
the same theatre in Siegel and Rumshinsky’s Shmendrik
on Broadway, and in Lillian and Rumshinsky’s The
Rabbi Demands Happiness and The Rebitsin’s
Daughter.”
M. Osherowitz writes about
this play:
They took the play [A
Jewish Child, from which The Rebetsin’s Daughter
was adapted], cut passages; changed the monologues,
modified the words, and moved everything around so that
Madame Prager would have a good role in the play that
required a lot of singing. The way it occurred was that
the role of the rabbi was removed from the old text and
in the new text it was replaced with a rebetsin, a
ready-made role for Madame Prager.
… And it would be no
exaggeration to say, that thanks to Madame Prager and
who she is, the Judaism was maintained, or, to say it
better, the Jewish tone of our operatic stage … with her
personality, with her character as an actor and as a
human being, she inspired the need to adapt operatic
roles for her that are authentically Jewish and where
the melodies must be truly Jewish.”
With the earlier
participation of Jenny Valiere and the later
participation of Molly Picon in the Second Avenue
Theatre, a change occurred in the repertoire, and there
was no longer a place there for P. She performed on
various occasions in different theatres, and in the
beginning of the 1927-1928 season she was again engaged
in the same theatre (under the management of Jacob
Kalich, Willy Pasternak, Max Sager, Nathan Parnes, and
Joseph Rumshinsky) and performed in Chone Gottesfeld and
Rumshinsky’s Reyzele and Latayner-Rumshinsky’s
Lucky Blessing. In the 1929-1930 season, she
performed again in the same theatre and took part in
Segal-Rumshinsky’s The Comedienne.
From that time on, she
appeared only in various occasional performances, until
she retired completely from the stage.
P. was married to Harry
Vaysberg, a relative of Professor Hurvits, who at one
time was a theatre manager. Their son, Maury, is a
cashier in Yiddish theatres.
M. E. from
Joseph Rumshinsky, Sholem Perlmutter, and Moshe Shorr.
-
B. Gorin – The
Story of Yiddish Theatre, II, p. 143.
-
Bessie Thomashefsky –
My Life Story, N.Y., 1916, pp. 231-232,
236-238.
-
Jacob Mestel,
“Galitsianers in the American Yiddish Theatre”,
Togblat, Lemberg, March 29, 1926.
-
M. Osherowitz –
“Regina Prager, the Famous Singer of the Yiddish
Stage, Stories about her Life in the Theatre”,
Forward, N.Y., Sept. 25, 1926.
-
M. Osherowitz – “The
First Role that Regina Prager Played on the Yiddish
Stage, Some Thirty Years Ago”, Forward, N.Y.,
Sept. 29, 1926.
-
M. Osherowitz – “The
Struggle Between Young and Old Actors on the Yiddish
Stage”, Forward, N.Y., Oct. 2, 1926.
-
B. Balzman [Botwinik]
– “What has Become of the Former Yiddish Theatre
Patriots?”, Forward, N.Y. Nov. 4, 1928.
-
Joseph Rumshinsky –
“Regina Prager, Leading Lady, Entreats God before
She Appears in a Performance”, Forward, N.Y.,
March 13, 1936.
-
J. Kirschenbaum–
“Through Her Song, Regina Prager Provided the First
Assistance for the Kishenev Victims”, Morning
Journal, N.Y., June 30, 1939.
-
Zalman Zylbercweig – Theatre Mosaic, N.Y.,
1941, pp. 11-15.
-
Joseph Rumshinsky –
Sounds From My Life, New York, 1944, pp.
429-433.
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