Friday, December 12, 2014

A00064 - Gilbert Marks, Historian of Jewish Food and Culture

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Gil Marks in a family photograph on May 30, 2014, his 62nd birthday. CreditElli Schorr
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Gil Marks, a culinary historian who wrote widely on the relationship between Jewish food and Jewish culture in a manner that was both scholarly and friendly, died on Friday in Jerusalem. He was 62.
The cause was lung cancer, his niece Efrat Altshul Schorr said, adding that Mr. Marks was not a smoker.
Mr. Marks studied for the rabbinate at Yeshiva University in New York, but he burrowed into the history and culture of the Jews more through the recipe book than the Talmud. Still, some would argue that his work was, in its way, Talmudic — full of information and interpretive wisdom on the foods of Jewish tradition and the governing principles of cooking and eating them.
He was the author of five books, an oeuvre that not only provided a recipe-by-recipe chronicle of kosher menus through the centuries but also examined the role of food in the establishment and growth of cultural traditions.
A writer of eloquent informality with a wide frame of reference, Mr. Marks was as apt to cite the song parodist Allan Sherman or the acerbic monologuist Lenny Bruce, as he was the Torah scholar Maimonides or the Yiddish author Sholom Aleichem. He spent a working lifetime not simply in the kitchen testing unusual seasonings and combinations of ingredients, but also in libraries poring over texts for the arcane details of food preparation.
“If you needed to know when they started eating carrots in Spain, he could tell you,” William Altshul, who is married to Mr. Marks’s sister Sharon, said in an interview on Tuesday.
Mr. Marks’s books included “The World of Jewish Cooking,” a vastly varied introduction to foods from around the globe; and “Olive Trees and Honey: A Treasury of Vegetarian Recipes From Jewish Communities Around the World,” which won a James Beard Award in 2005. He is probably best known, however, for his 2010 compendium, “Encyclopedia of Jewish Food,” an A-to-Z guide, nearly 700 pages long, through 2,500 years of comestibles both familiar and obscure.
“A filled pastry, either baked or fried,” Mr. Marks writes, by way of definition, in introducing the entry on the knish. Then, after citing an especially appetite-stimulating passage from a Sholom Aleichem short story, he traces the path of the pastry through the centuries, from Eastern Europe to the street carts of New York and Yonah Schimmel, the celebrated knishery on the Lower East Side of Manhattan.
“The knish is a classic example of peasant food evolving into comfort food and even sophisticated fare,” Mr. Marks’s history begins. “The origins of the knish lay in a medieval Slavic fried patty, called knysz in Poland, a peasant dish made from a cooked vegetable, most notably mashed turnips, or kasha; leftovers were typically used. These small cakes commonly accompanied a soup, and frequently the two dishes were the entire meal.
“Slavic cooks began stuffing the patties with little sautéed mushrooms, onions or chopped meat, and eventually began adding bread crumbs or flour to the outer portion.”
He added, “Eastern European Jews adapted the knysz to the dictates of kosherlaws and to their tastes, transforming it into the knish, a small, round, fried, filled pastry; this was a tasty way to enhance and stretch staples, most notably kasha, cabbage and curd cheese.”
Gilbert Stanley Marks was born in Charleston, W.Va., on May 30, 1952, a son of Harold Marks, who operated a linen supply business, and the former Beverly Rosenthal, a painter on Judaic themes. The family moved to Richmond, Va., when Gil was a teenager. He graduated from the Talmudical Academy of Baltimore, and then moved to New York to attend Yeshiva University, where he earned a bachelor’s degree, master’s degrees in social work and history, and his rabbinical ordination.
For a time, he was a guidance counselor and history teacher at Yeshiva University High School for Boys in New York, and he also worked in Philadelphia as a social worker before returning to New York for most of his adult life. He had recently moved to Alon Shvut, near Jerusalem in the West Bank.
At his death, he was at work on a book defined more by national than by religious tradition: “American Cakes,” some of which has appeared on the website The History Kitchen.
Mr. Marks’s interest in cooking began in boyhood when, according to family lore, he would complain about his mother’s cooking, to which she responded, “If you don’t like it, make something yourself.”
A self-taught cook, he became an excellent one, entertaining frequently in his small apartment on the Upper West Side of Manhattan but otherwise, according to Mr. Altshul, living an ascetic life in an austere home.
“He didn’t buy things for himself,” he said. “He bought kitchen utensils.”
Besides his sister Sharon, Mr. Marks’s survivors include his mother; a second sister, Carol Vegh; two brothers, Jeffrey and Arthur; and, in addition to Ms. Schorr, 30 other nieces and nephews and 25 grandnieces and grandnephews, the first, last and middle names of whom — all 56 of them — Mr. Marks could recite, Ms. Schorr said.

Saturday, December 6, 2014

A00063 - Leslie Feinberg, Writer and Transgender Activist

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A self-portrait of Leslie Feinberg in the West Village in 2011. CreditLeslie Feinberg
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Leslie Feinberg, a writer and activist whose 1993 novel, “Stone Butch Blues,” is considered a landmark in the contemporary literature of gender complexity, died on Nov. 15 at her home in Syracuse. She was 65.
Her death was confirmed by her spouse, Minnie Bruce Pratt, who said in a statement that the cause was “complications from multiple tick-borne co-infections, including Lyme disease.”
Feinberg, who resisted being called Ms. or any other gender-specific honorific, wrote fiercely and furiously on behalf of those she saw as oppressed because of their sexual, ethnic, racial or other identities. A longtime member of theWorkers World Party, a Marxist-Leninist group, and a prolific journalist for its newspaper, she wrote a 120-part series, from 2004 to 2008, explicating the role of socialism in the history of gender politics.
Feinberg was an advocate for minorities and for the poor, as well as for gay men and lesbians and others who identified as transgender — an umbrella term, distinct from transsexual, that describes people whose life experience straddles the line between male and female and between masculine and feminine.
She herself was biologically a woman but presented outwardly as male — and sometimes passed as a man for reasons of safety, a friend, Julie Enszer, said in an interview. Feinberg, in referring to herself, used the pronouns ze (for she) and hir (for her), though she often said pronoun usage was frequently a matter of context.
“I am female-bodied, I am a butch lesbian, a transgender lesbian — referring to me as ‘she/her’ is appropriate, particularly in a non-trans setting in which referring to me as ‘he’ would appear to resolve the social contradiction between my birth sex and gender expression and render my transgender expression invisible,” she explained in a 2006 interview with Camp, a publication in Kansas City, Mo., aimed at gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people and their supporters.
“I like the gender neutral pronoun ‘ze/hir,’ ” she continued, “because it makes it impossible to hold on to gender/sex/sexuality assumptions about a person you’re about to meet or you’ve just met. And in an all trans setting, referring to me as ‘he/him’ honors my gender expression in the same way that referring to my sister drag queens as ‘she/her’ does.”
Feinberg’s books included two nonfiction studies of gender issues, “Transgender Warriors: Making History From Joan of Arc to Dennis Rodman” and “Trans Liberation: Beyond Pink or Blue,” and a second novel, “Drag King.”
But her best-known and most influential work was “Stone Butch Blues,” a coming-of-age novel, drawn at least partly from her own life, about a young person, born female, who grows into adulthood at odds with her own family and comes to grips with her complicated, unconventional sexual and gender identity at a time when practicing a so-called alternative lifestyle invited stigma, open discrimination and, in many settings, menacing opprobrium.
“They cuffed my hands so tight I almost cried out,” the protagonist, Jess Goldberg, writes in a letter to a former lover, describing a night the police raided a club they were in together. “Then the cop unzipped his pants real slow, with a smirk on his face, and ordered me down on my knees. First I thought to myself, I can’t! Then I said out loud to myself and to you and to him, I won’t! I never told you this before but something changed inside of me at that moment. I learned the difference between what I can’t do and what I refuse to do.”
Leslie Feinberg was born on Sept. 1, 1949, in Kansas City and grew up in Buffalo. Her family was hostile to her sexuality and gender expression, and she left home as a teenager, rejecting them as well.
According to a biographical statement supplied by her spouse, Feinberg earned a living mostly in temporary low-wage jobs, including washing dishes, working in a book bindery, cleaning out ship cargo holds and interpreting sign language.
In addition to writing, she pursued many causes as an activist. In 1974, she organized a march against racism in Boston after white supremacists had attacked blacks there. She helped rally support for AIDS patients and those at risk in the early days of the disease. A longtime advocate for women’s reproductive rights, she returned to Buffalo to work for that cause in 1998, after an abortion provider, Dr. Barnett Slepian, was murdered in his home near there.
In addition to Pratt, a poet and an activist, Feinberg is survived by “an extended family of choice,” according to the statement provided by her spouse. She “identified as an antiracist white, working-class, secular Jewish, transgender, lesbian, female revolutionary communist,” the statement said.
In an essay after Feinberg’s death, Shauna Miller, a writer and editor who contributes to The Atlantic, wrote on the magazine’s website that “Stone Butch Blues” was “the heartbreaking holy grail of butch perspective,” a book that was instrumental in her coming to terms with her own sexual and gender identity. The novel, which has been translated into several languages including Chinese and Slovenian, “changed queer history,” she wrote.
“It changed trans history. It changed dyke history. And how it did that was by honestly telling a brutally real, beautifully vulnerable and messy personal story of a butch lesbian.”

Friday, October 17, 2014

A00062 - Marian Seldes, Broadway Stage Actress

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Marian Seldes, known for her work in Edward Albee plays, with Brian Murray in a 2003 production of “Counting the Ways.” CreditSara Krulwich/The New York Times
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Marian Seldes, a regal personality in New York theater for more than six decades in plays ranging from whodunits to the work of Tennessee Williams, Samuel Beckett and, especially, Edward Albee, died on Monday at her home in Manhattan. She was 86.
Susan Shreve, her sister-in-law, confirmed her death.
Tall, angular and dark-haired, with a commanding, patrician voice and liquid gestures, Ms. Seldes could dominate any scene — so much so that she was sometimes criticized for overacting. She shrugged at that: She knew very well that she cut a distinctive figure.
“I know I’m funny, because I’m eccentric, I’m odd,” she once told an interviewer. “I’m not what you expect.”
She also had it right when she described herself as a theatrical workaholic; she was seldom offstage. Acting, she once said, “defines my life, gives it shape and form.”
Her co-starring performance in Ira Levin’s 1978 thriller “Deathtrap,” for example, earned her not only a Tony Award nomination but also an entry in Guinness’s book of world records. In the play’s five-year run, she never missed one of its 1,793 performances, playing the wife of a playwright who, despite writer’s block, can still plot a murder. (In the process she outlasted a parade of co-stars: John Wood, Stacy Keach, John Cullum, Robert Reed and Farley Granger.)
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Marian Seldes: Her Many Roles

CreditSara Krulwich/The New York Times
Her warm-up for that marathon was more than 900 performances in Peter Shaffer’s “Equus,” which opened on Broadway in 1974.
“The theater is my focus,” she said. “It is exactly what I want to do.”
If theater was her métier, Edward Albee was her forte. After serving as Irene Worth’s understudy in Mr. Albee’s “Tiny Alice” on Broadway in 1965, she won a supporting role the following year in another new Albee play, “A Delicate Balance,” as the hysterical daughter of feuding parents (Hume Cronyn and Jessica Tandy). She won a Tony for the performance.
Almost 30 years later years she received reams of praise for her work in a string of Albee plays presented Off Broadway, starting in 1994 with “Three Tall Women,” followed by “The Play About the Baby” in 2001 and “Counting the Ways” in 2003.
In “The Play About the Baby,” Ms. Seldes found her theatrical soul mate in her co-star, Brian Murray. As an older couple introducing their younger counterparts to life’s colder, darker truths, Ms. Seldes and Mr. Murray were by turns sinister, charmingly sophisticated and funny.
The Seldes-Murray chemistry worked again in “Counting the Ways,” the second half of a double bill that also featured three short works by Samuel Beckett. As a married couple engaged in a funny but stealthily serious fencing match over the depth and breadth of their affection for each other, Ms. Seldes and Mr. Murray performed, the reviews said, with balletic perfection.
“Ms. Seldes’s résumé — she is one of the few actors to have performed multiple roles in the Albee canon — puts her in the elite company of such stars of the stage as Colleen Dewhurst and Jessica Tandy,” Peter Markswrote in The New York Times in 2001.
Marian Hall Seldes — who was quick to point out that her name was pronounced SEL-dess, not SEL-deez — was born in Manhattan on Aug. 23, 1928. Her mother, the former Alice Wadhams Hall, was a socialite and descendant of a prominent New York family; her father was the author and critic Gilbert Seldes, a descendant of Jewish immigrants from Russia whose friends included Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald, the Gershwins and Irving Berlin. An uncle was the prominent journalist George Seldes.
A childhood accident weighed heavily on her. Six years old at the time, she was riding in a motorboat on a lake with her brother and other children when, following them into the water, she jumped and was hit in the face by the boat’s propeller. The wound required many stitches, done by an emergency-room doctor using thick black thread, and it left both her face and her psyche scarred.
“It was awful and gory for quite a long time,” her daughter, Katharine Andres, told The New York Times Magazine in 2010. “Her mother was beautiful, and Marian felt not beautiful enough. She felt like a failure.”
After attending the Dalton School in Manhattan, Ms. Seldes studied at the School of American Ballet before deciding that what she really wanted to do was act. She put aside her toe shoes in 1946 and enrolled at the Neighborhood Playhouse, where she studied with Sanford Meisner, whom she grew to idolize. “He did not teach us acting,” she wrote in a tribute after his death in 1997, “he prepared us to act.”
She made her stage debut in 1947 as a serving girl in “Medea,” directed by John Gielgud and starring Judith Anderson. She went on to appear in a 1954 Broadway staging of Jean Giraudoux’s “Ondine,” with Audrey Hepburn and Mel Ferrer. She attracted strong notice in 1964, again on Broadway, in Tennessee Williams’s revised version of “The Milk Train Doesn’t Stop Here Anymore.”
In that production, which briefly starred Tallulah Bankhead as Flora Goforth, a wealthy old eccentric nearing death in her Italian villa, Ms. Seldes created the role of Blackie, Flora’s troubled secretary.
Ms. Seldes’s credits were voluminous. She had the title role in “Isadora Duncan Sleeps With the Russian Navy” in 1977. (“Vibrant and funny,” Clive Barnes wrote in The Times.) She was a domineering but burdened patrician mother in Tina Howe’s well-praised “Painting Churches” in 1983. That same year, she was, as Frank Rich wrote in The Times, “a frightening, hard-driving” Queen Margaret alongside Kevin Kline in a Joseph Papp production of “Richard III” in Central Park.
In the 1990s she appeared in Chekhov’s “Ivanov” at Lincoln Center and in the Broadway revival of Jean Anouilh’s “Ring Round the Moon,” which had only a brief run but brought her another Tony nomination for her portrayal of a crusty grande dame who turns into a doting matchmaker.
Her most recent Broadway appearance was in Terrence McNally’s “Deuce” in 2007, in which she and Angela Lansbury played former doubles partners reuniting in old age to be honored at the United States Open.
Ms. Seldes published an autobiography, “The Bright Lights: A Theater Life,” in 1978, and wrote a novel, “Time Together” (1981), about a mother’s death and its effect on her two estranged daughters.
She also wrote book reviews and articles about her travels, some of which appeared in The Times. From 1969 to 1991 she was on the faculty of the Theater Center at the Juilliard School, where her students included Robin Williams, Patti LuPone, William Hurt and Mr. Kline.
Ms. Seldes’s first marriage, to Julian Claman, a TV producer, ended in divorce. In 1990 she married the writer and director Garson Kanin. He died in 1999.
Though mainly a creature of the stage, Ms. Seldes had a considerable television career as well, beginning in the medium’s early days in drama series like “Studio One” and “Philco Television Playhouse.” She also appeared on “Perry Mason,” “Alfred Hitchcock Presents,” “Law & Order,” “Murphy Brown” and “Murder, She Wrote.” In 1995 she was Eleanor Roosevelt in the HBO movie “Truman.” She also played Mr. Big’s mother in an episode of “Sex and the City.”
She had roles in a number of films as well, including George Stevens’s “The Greatest Story Ever Told” (1965); “Digging to China” (1998), with Kevin Bacon; “Town and Country” (2001), with Warren Beatty, Diane Keaton and Goldie Hawn; and “Mona Lisa Smile” (2003), with Julia Roberts.
But she never left the stage for long. In addition to her Albee outings, she played the bombastic director of an amateur theatrical in the 2000 revival of George Kelly’s comedy “The Torch-Bearers” and a dotty denizen of Times Square in 2001 in Neil Simon’s “45 Seconds From Broadway.”
In 2010, she was given a lifetime achievement award at the Tony Awards ceremony. To Ms. Seldes, it simply confirmed that she had succeeded in doing exactly what she had set out to do.
“All I’ve done is live my life in the theater and loved it,” she said. “If you can get an award for being happy, that’s what I’ve got.”

Thursday, October 9, 2014

A00061 - Michael Harari, Israeli Agent Likened to James Bond

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Michael Harari in 1990.CreditIsrael Broadcasting Authority, via Agence France-Presse
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Michael Harari, an Israeli intelligence agent who led the hit squad that was sent to avenge the murders of 11 Israeli athletes byPalestinian terrorists at the 1972 Olympic Games in Munich, died on Sept. 21 in Tel Aviv. He was 87.
His death was reported by The Associated Press, citing a statement by Israel’s prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, who called Mr. Harari “one of the great warriors for Israel’s security.”
Mr. Harari, who was sometimes referred to as the “Zionist James Bond,” spent decades in the shadowy and dangerous echelons of global espionage, working for more than 25 years under the aegis of the Mossad, the Israeli intelligence agency, and participating in the 1976 rescue of Israelis held hostage at an airport in Entebbe, Uganda.
In the 1980s, after retiring from the Mossad, he was an aide to Gen. Manuel Antonio Noriega, the Panamanian dictator who was ousted in an American invasion in 1989 and imprisoned in the United States for drug trafficking, racketeering and money laundering.
Mr. Harari’s precise relationship to General Noriega was the subject of much speculation. He was variously said to have been a military adviser, an organizer of security forces, an intermediary in arms deals and a business partner, but Mr. Harari denied all of it.
“I’m not Noriega’s adviser, and I never was,” he said in an interview on Israeli television shortly after he vanished from Panama on Dec. 20, 1989, the day of the American invasion. “Noriega is not my partner. I didn’t run his business. I didn’t manage or instruct his forces. I didn’t organize his personal bodyguards.”
Mr. Harari joined the Mossad in 1954 and was appointed to lead its special operations division, known as Caesarea, in 1970. For a decade, he was at the forefront of the Israeli fight against Palestinian terrorism. Reportedly, it was Mr. Harari who established within Caesarea the unit called Kidon (Hebrew for bayonet), which specialized in assassinations.
Shortly after the massacre in the Munich Olympic Village by a Palestinian group known as Black September, Golda Meir, then the Israeli prime minister, approved a Mossad plan to seek out and kill those deemed responsible.
It is uncertain how many of those targeted had actually taken part in the Munich attacks. But in a calamitous error in July 1973, members of Mr. Harari’s team who had traveled to Norway in pursuit of the terrorists mistook an innocent Moroccan there for a Black September leader, Ali Hassan Salameh, and gunned him down as he walked with his wife on a street in the city of Lillehammer.
Mr. Harari escaped from Norway, but six Israelis were arrested there and charged with complicity in the killing. Five were convicted and given sentences of one to five and a half years in prison; Norway later pardoned three of them.
Mr. Salameh was killed in Beirut, Lebanon, in 1979 by a remote-controlled bomb, in an operation said to have been engineered by Mr. Harari. In Steven Spielberg’s 2005 film about the massacre, “Munich,” Mr. Harari was portrayed by the Israeli actor Moshe Ivgy.
Mr. Harari was born in Tel Aviv on Feb. 18, 1927. As a teenager, he joined Haganah, the Jewish militia that preceded the Israeli Army. Some sources say he enlisted at 16 after lying about his age so that he could be admitted to Palmach, Haganah’s elite fighting unit.
After World War II, he was sent to Europe to help Jewish survivors of the Holocaust immigrate illegally to Palestine, which was then controlled by the British. After the State of Israel was established in 1948, he worked for the government security agency known as Shin Bet.
Mr. Harari’s survivors could not be confirmed, but Israeli and English news reports said they included a wife, two children and five grandchildren.
In 1976, Mr. Harari participated in the planning and execution of Operation Entebbe, a counterterrorism mission to rescue 103 hostages being held at the Entebbe airport in Uganda. Seven men — five Palestinians and two Germans — had hijacked an Air France flight bound for Paris from Tel Aviv after a stop in Athens. They demanded the release of Palestinian prisoners held by Israel and four other countries.
Israeli paratroopers and commandos killed the hijackers and flew back to Israel with the freed captives. Three hostages died during the operation, along with 20 Ugandan soldiers and the commander of the Israeli troops, Lt. Col. Jonathan Netanyahu, a brother of the future prime minister.
Mr. Harari was said to have done advance work in Entebbe in which he managed to talk his way into the airport control tower disguised as a businessman from Italy.
But much of his career remains shrouded in secrecy. The Israeli defense minister, Moshe Ya’alon, told the Israeli newspaper Haaretz that Mr. Harari belonged to a “rare breed of builders of the state.”
“Most of Mike Harari’s actions for the security of the State of Israel as a fighter and a commander in the Mossad are unknown and will never be known,” Mr. Ya’alon said.