Joseph Buloff

A 1935 article from the Jewish Telegraphic Agency heaps praises upon the great Yiddish actor Joseph Buloff. In this article, it is written thus:

"An actor and director of rare talents  -- as attested by the critical acclaim achieved this season by his four New York productions – Buloff is also a personality wholly apart from his acting ability. His has been a checkered and hectic career that has taken him all over the world, that has seen him serve in four armies, -- the imperial Russian army, the German army, under the Red flag in the early days of the Russian revolution and finally under Polish colors.

At fifteen, Buloff, a stripling just graduated from a Vilna high school, enlisted in the old Russian army because he was informed that if he wanted to attend a university, war service would ease his path. In a uniform that was much too big for him, he began his war service. Perhaps there was something in the solemn youngster in his baggy uniform, for he was laughed at and began to entertain his officers and his fellow soldiers with impersonations of the Jews as they imagined them.

“I played the traditional Jew for them,” he said. “I may not have been pretty, but it was the only way a Jew could exist and be let alone.”

But army life was not all theatricals and laughing at the Jews, and soon the Germans were in Vilna and young Buloff was a prisoner. Therein came his first change of uniforms and again his natural sense of mimicry and his ability to portray others came to his rescue, and he was made an interpreter.

Then came the Communists, and the German troops fled. Left behind was Buloff. He was then a member of the Red army. But not for long. Vilna was taken by the Poles and Buloff with it. Then followed a period in the Polish service, and here we come to Buloff’s real theatrical beginnings.

When he was finally discharged from the Polish army, ragged and hungry, in a world that had gone mad and showed no signs of returning to sanity, Buloff was in Warsaw, wondering how he could get home. He finally heard that the Vilna Troupe was playing in Warsaw, and he went to see them, hoping, as he explained, not for work but that there would be someone in the troupe who would help him return home.

Joining the troupe, by one of those queer quirks of fate that so often determine one’s career, he soon recognized that he had really found his work. His rise was rapid and since 1932 when he joined the group, he has toured Europe, the United States and South America, conducted an experimental theatre of his own in Chicago, played with Maurice Schwartz in his Yiddish Art Theatre, and now is the guiding spirit of the New York Art Theater, a group that picked up where Schwartz left off when he departed for the gold fields of Hollywood.

Thirty-four years old, Buloff has appeared in 123 roles. He is equally at home in the works of the great masters and in plays by contemporary Yiddish authors. He scored notable successes as the Pope in Sholem Asch’s “The Witch of Castile,” and as the jailbird in Franz Langer’s “Peripherie,” as the peasant in Gorki’s “The Lower Depths,” as the shlemiel in the “Kibitzer,” a role made famous on the New York English stage by Edward G Robinson; both as Khonon and the Rabbi in Ansky’s “The Dybbuk,” and as the old man in Moliere’s “The Miser.” He has played in Shaw's “Pygmalion,” in Pirandello's “He, She and the Ox," and in the works of other well-known authors.

This season with his New York Art Theater, he has directed and starred in “60,000 Heroes,” a play about a false Messiah who got together an army to win Palestine for the Jews. Written by an unknown, Benjamin Ressler, it has been hailed as one of the finest contemporary plays presented in the Yiddish Theatre. This production was first played by Buloff in South America, where he is tremendously popular.

Buloff has high hopes for the future of the Yiddish theatre in America. He realizes its difficulties, but he believes there is a real need for it. And then he adds:

“Perhaps the lack of Jewish talkies and movies will prove a factor in saving the Jewish stage.”

Of the Yiddish theatre in Europe, Buloff says it is poverty-stricken, as are the people.

“But how hungry they are for the theatre,” he says. “They come to the theatre ragged and hungry, sometimes without shoes, but they drink it all in and beg for more. Many times I have seen poor Jews come to the theatre carrying a hen or perhaps a bag of flour and beg to be admitted.

“The poverty of the audience is reflected in the poverty of the theatre. There is very little scenery and few costumes, but we showed a wide range of plays, from original musical comedies to the great classics.

“But here in the United States, things are different. The poorest group here is better off than most of the European Jewish theatrical groups.”

With his whole heart centered in the problems of the Yiddish stage, Buloff has hopes that the radio experiment he will launch shortly will be of aid in the perpetuation of the Yiddish stage. The Yiddish theatre, he feels, can and will live. And many skeptics of the past few years, knowing of the re-awakened interest invoked by Buloff, are inclined to agree with this talented young artist."