Work won’t set you free. Perhaps Dancing?

The story behind "Dancing Auschwitz"

by Michael Orbach

Online Exclusive 7/9/2010

A family of Jews stands motionless before the gates of Auschwitz, below the newly replaced sign that reads “Arbeit Macht Frei,” work will set you free. Near the center of the group an old man wears a white t-shirt that says “Survivor.” And then, to the strains of the cheesy pop song “I Will Survive,” the five begin to dance. As the video continues, the settings alternate: the black and white arch of Terezin concentration camp, the stairs that lead to Dachau, the Lodze ghetto, the railway tracks to Auschwitz, and finally the Maisel Synagogue, where Adolph Hitler planned to place his museum of the Jews.

But as the backdrops change, the five jerk their limbs like marionettes as bemused onlookers walk by.

Titled, “I Will Survive: Dancing Auschwitz,” the video is the latest and perhaps unlikeliest hit on YouTube, the video sharing web site. It is the work of a Jewish conceptual artist, Jane Korman of Australia, who created the video as part of an art installation after a family trip through Poland and Germany last summer.

“I really wanted to approach the Holocaust and the memory of it in a different way,” said Korman, who is now visiting Israel. “I wanted to keep it alive and I didn't know how it could be done. What I picked up from non-Jewish people was they're tired of hearing the word Holocaust. Also, for the third-generation [of Jews] sometimes they think we're far removed [from the Holocaust]. I wanted to create an artwork that keeps this historically traumatic memory alive.”

The dance concept, she says, was also inspired by a music video for the musician Fatboy Slim that features an impromptu dance troupe at a movie theatre.

Korman’s parents, Adelak, 90, and Marysia, 86, Kohn met after both survived Auschwitz. She received a mixed reaction when she approached them with her idea.

Korman's mother refused to accompany the family. “She still felt betrayed,” Korman explained.

But her father was more than agreeable. “[When] I approached my father about the idea and I explained, ‘You are alive today, you went through so much. You have grandchildren that are accompanying you to the places of your past.’ He got it in an instant. He just danced. He's even dancing more vibrantly than we are.”

The video was shot during a visit to Germany and Poland in June and July of 2009. The family danced quickly so as not to offend other visitors. As for the dancing, Korman is happy it wasn't too professional.

“I didn't want it to be smooth choreography,” she said. “I'm happy it was awkward at times. It symbolizes the difficulty. As Jews, we're always trying to survive and just continue and there's always something. We're trying very hard in spite of it all — life [is] difficult.”

The video and the art installation have generated their share of controversy in her hometown of Melbourne, though Korman said she received mostly positive feedback. Even her mother, who refused to accompany them, was enthusiastic about the final version.

“We came from the ashes, now we dance,” Korman's mother told her.

Korman's son, Gil, who dances in the video with his grandfather, two sisters and his mother, defended the project.

“The fact that we are dancing doesn’t disrespect what took place 65 years ago,” he maintained. “The dance is a tribute to the tenacity of human spirit.”

The video was posted in January, but received scant attention until several weeks ago when it was picked up by a neo-Nazi website. Since then, the video has received over 80,000 views. The irony is not lost on Korman. “It's taken on a life of its own,” she said.

Two subsequent videos of “Dancing Auschwitz” are much less viewed. The second in the series is a home recording featuring Korman, her parents and several other Holocaust survivors dancing in a forest in Melbourne to the tune of Leonard Cohen’s “Dance Me to the End of Love.”

That dancing, a group of middle-aged men and woman doing the hora, was unplanned, Korman said.

“That was my parents attitude towards life, they were always dancing,” said Korman.

The final video in the series replays various conversations between family members during the trip. In one segment, Adelak Kohn, Korman's father, stands in a cattle car. With his face to the barred window, he reenacts what his trip to Auschwitz was like.

“Can you tell me where we are?” Kohn asks in Polish and then translates it to English.

“You are not far from Auschwitz.” he answers himself and then asks for some water in Polish and English, as he did some 60+ years ago. Then he begins to laugh. Later in the video his grandson asks why is smiling.

“How many people can come here with their grandchildren? One percent?” Kohn answers with another question, then answers himself: “Not even one percent. Half a percent? I don't think even half a percent. All were killed... I think every day about them. A hundred people were in our familyand they all perished in Lodze. But here, I am very happy.”