Ronit Rubeinstein | Photo by Matthew McLaren (left) Rubinstein family photo featuring Mordechai and Ronit Rubinstein | Photo by Ora Amar-Rubinstein (right)
Presented by Mom & Pop Productions
Ronit Rubinstein candidly confesses that her show is exactly the sort of thing she herself would avoid—a solo show about herself. It’s a solid ice breaker. Having chiselled a cozy path through that barrier, she further dispels any potential coolness in the room with some crafting! She knows if you keep someone busy with a low-pressure task, defences will drop. And so, raising my hand to confirm myself part of the “Dead Dads Club”—having lost mine two years ago—I felt right at home in her mediation on grief, the gentle and intimately profound Things My Dad Kept.
The theatrical conceit here is that she’s invited us into her late father’s office to sift through the artifacts of a life—a chore that was both arduous and deeply enlightening for her. He was a hoarder, but that is such an ugly and dismissive word for what Mordechai Rubinstein was doing. Sharing the stage with a metal filing cabinet and a cork board, our gracious, vulnerable and witty host indulges in some memories evoked by this loving man’s diligent archive of his family’s existence.
From their email correspondence to academic records, Rubinstein affectionately regards each item before launching into the specific memory it triggers and so leads us through her life with him. Towards the end of each segment, she isn’t so much overcome with the emotion as allowing tears to viscerally mark the significance of still having that memory—something she absolutely does not take for granted.
There are goofy bits and poignant bits and bits that defy easy classification. It’s a life, right? Lives go all over the place and so must our reminiscences. Together with director Janelle Hanna, Rubinstein crafts a persuasive atmosphere of communal vibes with her audience. There isn’t much in the way of theatrical artifice, just a focused, purposeful warmth. And a very genuine sense of being present for an unpacking of treasured personal effects.
Being a descendant of European Jews, her family history can be traced back—without going all that great a distance—to a very dark episode in human history. Yes, her dad’s story is also one of Holocaust survival, featuring some astonishing anecdotes.
Mundane rituals, so often overlooked during life, are also given some love. One quite lovely example figures into the final gesture of her show, an offering that, without the context behind it, could so easily be dismissed. Perhaps above all, Rubinstein amplifies the importance of not taking people, our memories or random little expressions of care and attention for granted.
