‘Here There Are Blueberries’: Where Darkness Has a Human Face

‘Here There Are Blueberries’: Where Darkness Has a Human Face
The staff of the Holocaust Museum examines a Nazi photo album, in "Here There Are Blueberries." (Matthew Murphy)
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NEW YORK—There is great power in a photograph. It illuminates a hitherto unknown corner of the world, provides answers to questions never before asked, and serves as a historical record for all to see. Such is the case in Moisés Kaufman’s and Amanda Gronich’s quietly fascinating and deliberately disturbing “Here There Are Blueberries” at New York Theatre Workshop. A co-production with Tectonic Theater Project that’s based on actual events, the play looks at a time where the ordinary and outright horrific go hand-in-hand. 

The story begins at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum where, in response to a written inquiry, a photo album—purportedly containing images from the concentration camp at Auschwitz—arrives at the desk of archivist Rebecca Erbelding (Elizabeth Stahlmann). Erbelding is initially skeptical of the claim, as few such photos are known to exist. She notes that “the Nazis did not want to leave evidence as to what was going on.” But the album, containing 116 different images on 32 separate pages, turns out to be just that.

Rebecca Erbelding (Elizabeth Stahlmann) examines the photographs, in "Here There Are Blueberries." (Matthew Murphy)
Rebecca Erbelding (Elizabeth Stahlmann) examines the photographs, in "Here There Are Blueberries." (Matthew Murphy)

Erbelding, the museum’s photographic director Judy Cohen (Kathleen Chalfant), and the rest of the staff soon realize the album offers a visual diary of daily life at the camp, not pictures depicting horrors. Among them are photos of uniformed soldiers relaxing, gossiping and posing for the camera; a series of photos shows a group of young women sitting on the railing of a porch while eating blueberries; and a large group of officers and other personnel having an impromptu celebration. The photos show how life went as normally as possible in certain parts of the Auschwitz complex, which covered over 15 square miles and was far more extensive than the barracks that housed the inmates, the labor camp, and the gas chambers.

This disconnect between reality and the image the Nazis wanted to project to the world is apparent throughout the album. This fact is brought home through photos of a Christmas tree and a Christmas party for the children of the soldiers who lived at the camp in December 1944, weeks before Auschwitz was liberated.

Conceived and directed by Kaufman, with a cast that takes on multiple roles, the show has a docudrama feel as Erbelding, Cohen, and others unravel the meaning behind these photos, learn why and for whom these images were taken, and determine how the album had survived over the decades. The audience accompanies them on this detective story of discovery as they watch these photos become links to a much more detailed picture than they first imagined. Answers are found and conclusions are drawn thanks to research, assumptions, and a sometimes-unexpected connection, like when one man (Charlie Thurston) recognizes his own grandfather as one of the Nazis in the photos.

There’s a debate as to whether these photos should even be displayed as they put a spotlight on the people who worked at the camp, rather than the victims. It’s especially egregious because the photos include Dr. Josef Mengele, the “Angel of Death”; Rudolf Höss, the man who designed Auschwitz; and Otto Moll, who supervised the gas chambers. They are all standing around and smiling. David Bengail’s projection design when it comes to these images and lighting designer David Lander’s subdued effects accentuate the somber mood. Best of all, the production never talks down to those in attendance or simplifies the story or its messages.
The cast of "Here There Are Blueberries" against a backdrop of historical photos from World War II. (Matthew Murphy)
The cast of "Here There Are Blueberries" against a backdrop of historical photos from World War II. (Matthew Murphy)
The play’s primary emphasis is on the importance of preserving history, especially the parts that make us uncomfortable. Many today are more anxious to forget the past than come to terms with it. It is much easier to see those who commit atrocities as monsters, rather than as human beings complicit in their actions.

“Here There Are Blueberries” brings things home in a devastating way when the reason for the aforementioned sudden celebration becomes apparent. The photos also indicate just who knew exactly what went on in the camp; many Nazis there claimed to have no knowledge of the crimes because they worked away (for example, in administration offices) from where the inmates were located. 

Proving the old adage, “one picture is worth a thousand words,” and with some final moments that are nothing less than gut-wrenching, “Here There Are Blueberries” offers a powerful warning to not forget what the past can teach us. Hopefully, future generations can learn from what happened and prevent it from happening again.

Scott Barrow in "Here There Are Blueberries." (Matthew Murphy)
Scott Barrow in "Here There Are Blueberries." (Matthew Murphy)

‘Here There Are Blueberries’ New York Theatre Workshop 79 E. Fourth St., New York City Tickets: 212-460-5475 or NYTW.org Running time: 90 minutes (no intermission) Closes: June 30, 2024

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Judd Hollander is a reviewer for stagebuzz.com and a member of the Drama Desk and Outer Critics Circle.