A Fiddler on My Roof: Reuniting with a Special Musical Memory
Courtesy of the Fiddler on the Roof company from the 2025 Barbican Theatre production
Professor Joe Goldblatt
“We are going to the theatre!” My father exclaimed these words in 1966 when the first touring production of the acclaimed Broadway musical Fiddler on the Roof was appearing in its first national tour at our 3400 seat local music hall. I was fourteen years old, my sister ten, and we were both speechless.
This was totally uncharacteristic of our father who had survived the 1929 United States financial depression at six years old by selling newspapers on street corners as one penny each to provide food for his parents and seven siblings. Papa was always very careful with his pence and when he extracted the tickets from his vest pocket and flashed them before us I noticed the price was $7.00 (£5.15) or in 2025 currency £122.70!
Papa then commanded mama, my sister and I to quickly get dressed because the curtain would soon be rising. I did not at that time remember another occasion where papa took us to a live theatre production.
When we entered the gigantic auditorium papa quickly led us from the back past all of the cheaper seats. We were soon nestled into the centre of the third row from the stage, and our eyes were transfixed upon the huge seemingly mile high red and gold velvet curtain before us. Only a few minutes later the orchestra conductor appeared in a small spotlight, raised his baton, and the sound of a single violin was heard as the several stories high curtain slowly rose.
Upon the stage was a small hut like home with a thatched room and behind it a mural whose design had been inspired by the famous Eastern European Jewish artist Marc Chagall. On top of the roof our ears and eyes found the fiddler we had heard earlier and he was precariously balancing as he played the opening melody of the musical story that was about to unfold.
Only a few seconds later a soft follow spot discovered an actor dressed in what could best be described as modest workman like attire standing near the side of the stage. And then, the magic began as the actor in the character of the poor dairy man Tevye asked a typical Rabbinical question, “You may wonder how we manage to scratch out a pleasant simple little tune without breaking our necks? The answer is one word. Tradition! ”
At that very moment my father took my hand in his and squeezed it tightly. I look up at him and noticed that a tear was rolling down is left cheek. I whispered “Papa, are you alright?” He lowered his head, squeezed my hand and this time looking up at the stage whispered to me “That is my family.”
His own parents were similar to the characters on stage as they had escaped the pogroms (persecutions) of the nineteenth century to seek a better world for their family in the United States at the start of the twentieth century. Papa recognised the immediate connection with his own parents as the actors began to share their story with us.
And now, some nearly 60 years later I recently returned to Edinburgh’s Festival Theatre to experience once again the universal story of family, change, and survival that was unfolding upon the largest stage in Scotland. As the fiddler’s first notes sounded behind the lowered fire curtain I looked to my right and imagined Papa was once again seated beside me.
When Tevye once again asked the question about how we manage to survive I was immediately reminded of thousands of years of persecution the Jewish people along with other ethnic minorities including Palestinians, Ukranians, LGBTQ+ members, Muslims, Hindus, Sikh’s, Baha’is, Buddhists, and others have experienced over the centuries.
While the word tradition appears to be a simple answer to this age old problem of religious and ethnic persecution of the others around us, in fact, it represents the ability to hold fast to our beliefs with courage, persistence, adaptation, empathy, and compassion to insure a more just world for all of us.
As I witnessed the near capacity full theatre with audience members ranging in age from teenagers to eighty year olds, most of whom were not Jewish, I was heartened by the respect and affection shown for this 60 year old musical. Perhaps the reason for Fiddler’s long time universal success with productions by African Americans in the South Bronx in the USA as well as in Japan and all around the world, is that everyone of us, as the writer reminds us “Is a fiddler on a roof.” As our eyes turn toward that stage, we clearly see our own families, experience our own struggles, and deep within our hearts realise that within the family of mankind there is always hope for a better world if we choose move forward, one step at a time, together.
Over the centuries there have been many missteps in the pilgrimage toward a more peaceful world. From pogroms to national and international wars to in the United States the constant report of mass shootings at schools as well as the politically hate motivated violence evidenced by the recent assassination of Charlie Kirk. Therefore, I believe we need more than ever before the reminder that Fiddler on the Roof provides us that the inhumanity we witness daily is also not inevitable.
Rather, we may as human beings overcome our most base instincts by holding fast to the values embodied in the word tradition that remind us to hold fast to realising that despite our differences, we must once more come together as a cohesive community that cherishes respect, compassion, and indeed, love for one another.
I like to think that my father would have been heartened and indeed hopeful that nearly 2000 of my fellow citizens rose to their feet night after night in standing ovations to honour and encourage Tevye and his Jewish family as they moved forward into a new world where they hoped through their hard work and tolerance they might just find the right balance. In many ways similar to a Fiddler on the Roof.
Professor Joe Goldblatt is Emeritus Professor of Planned Events at Queen Margaret University at Queen Margaret University. His is co – chair of the Edinburgh Interfaith Association. His views are his own. For more information about his views visit www.joegoldblatt.scot