#1909-1993

[mapsontheweb]

Map of werewolf witch trials

by subthings2

   Mapping the location of 223 witch trials that included accusations of turning into a wolf, mostly based on Lorey's online list (just under 200 listed). Blécourt gives a few corrections to Lorey's list, Klaniczay has 13 Hungarian trials, and Madar, Metsvah and Winkler collectively give 14 Estonian trials; Metsvah says there are 30 recorded in Estonia in total, but data on the rest weren't provided. When a location has multiple trials, the crosses form a circle around the city so as to not overlap - this is most obvious for Tallinn, Riga, and Sopron.  

   The initial point was to visualise how the trials spread over time, but what it also makes really obvious is how tightly clustered most of them are - this matches how regional the witch trials in general were, but also that beliefs in werewolves weren't evenly spread across Europe; hence the lack of anything in Great Britain, Basque Country, but weirdly also Scandinavia where southern Sweden is known for having a decent number of werewolves in its folklore.  

   Finally, after going through all of Lorey's descriptions, there's a few that stood out that I wanted to share (machine translated from German):  

   1619 Tonnis Steven von Grevenstein, shepherd in Kallenhardt (Electoral Cologne Office of Rüthen). “Out of pain and unbearable torment, I had to say that  I was a magician and a Wehrwolf, but God in heaven knows that everything is a lie and I have never seen a devil in my life.”  

   1652 Wilhelm Scheffern, shepherd from Metterich (di Metternich near Münstermaifeld, Kurtrier). One of the reasons he was talked about was because - in contrast to his successors - there were never any losses due to wolf attacks during his time as a shepherd. "It is entirely believed that the defendant could turn himself into a werewolf" (6th count) and "that he ... once made himself invisible in the field" (point 15). However, previously in points 2 and 3 "that his "The father was burned because of the vice" and "that the defendant's sisters were burned years ago because of the vice of magic." (Court verdict not received; according to Krämer, however, probably executed.)  

   1661 Cuno Jung, a shepherd from Westerburg, had not defended himself strongly enough against being called a werewolf. Because his parents were already under suspicion and his sister had been executed as a witch, he spoke out against the witchcraft trials. He also refused to take part in an execution as a lay judge. He once even tried to buy his way out as an observer at a witch trial. Executed in Westerburg.  

   there's also the WAR WLF of Lemgo, featuring this funky little guy that's also had several people write about the rather unfunky little trial  

   the single case aaaall the way up in Finland is Erkki Juhonpoika  

   Sources:  

   Willem de Blécourt, ‘The Differentiated Werewolf: An Introduction to Cluster Methodology’, Werewolf Histories (2015), pg 7  

   Gábor Klaniczay, Bengt Ankerloo & Gustav Henningson (ed.), ‘Hungary: The Accusations and the Universe of Popular Magic’, Early Modern European Witchcraft: Centres and Peripheries (1993) pg 254, footnote 122  

   Elmar Lorey, ‘Werwolfprozesse in der Frühen Neuzeit’, http://www.elmar-lorey.de/prozesse.htm (2000)  

   Maia Madar, Bengt Ankerloo & Gustav Henningson (ed.), ‘Estonia I: Werewolves and Poisoners’, Early Modern European Witchcraft: Centres and Peripheries (1993), pg 270-271  

   Merili Metsvah, Willem de Blécourt (ed.), ‘Estonian Werewolf History’, Werewolf Histories (2015), pg 210 & footnote 25  

   Rudolf Winkler, ‘Uber Hexenwahn und Hexenprozesse in Estland wahrend der Schwedenherrschaft’, Baltische Monatsschrift, 67 (1909), pg 333-4  

[henk-heijmans]

Young girl, making tortillas, Mexico, ca. 1947 - by Fritz Henle (1909 - 1993), German/American

[davidhudson]

Fritz Henle (June 9, 1909 – January 31, 1993), Holland Museum, 1955.

[eddy25960]

Sam Steward (1909-1993) - scratchboard.

Sam Steward, born Samuel Morris Steward (1909 – 1993), also known as Phil Andros, or Phil Sparrow. The talented and charming Samuel M. Steward began his career as a novelist, professor of English at Chicago’s DePaul and other universities, and an editor of the World Book Encyclopedia. His letters to Gertrude Stein in the early ’30s led to a close friendship with her and Alice B. Toklas. “Sammy” periodically visited them in France, shared artistic insights, and befriended many in their circle. A fine draughtsman, he was also an American tattoo artist.

(Don Bryson publication)

[lascitasdelashoras]

Ernst A. Heiniger (Swiss, 1909-1993) Bahnhofplatz, Zurich. 1933 © Fotostiftung Schweiz

[camisoledadparis]

Sidney Horne Shepherd.1909-1993. Male model. Oil on canvas.

[thefugitivesaint]

Nino Carbe (1909-1993), 'The Little Mermaid', ''Heavy Metal'', April 1980

[francesca-70]

Sono donna anche oggi, anche se non è l'8 marzo e nessuno mi porta una mimosa.

Sono donna anche oggi, che non ho nessuna serata in discoteca con uomini nudi che dovrebbero farmi divertire ballando e invece, poveretti, mi fanno solo pena...loro e chi ci va quel maledetto 8 marzo.

Sono donna ogni giorno, quando mi alzo e ho la forza di dire ''tocca a me'', senza nessuno che mi impone qualcosa o senza obblighi legati ad ormai morte tradizioni ed usanze.

Mi piace essere donna, non sono una femminista sfegatata che difende ad ogni costo e ad oltranza il mio genere, perché le stronzate le facciamo anche noi e non siamo sante, almeno io aureole in testa non ne vedo proprio a nessuno, ma mi piace la mattina pettinarmi i capelli, mettere il mascara e perdere quegli intramontabili venti minuti davanti ad un armadio, sempre pieno di cose che a me in quel preciso istante non piaceranno.

Mi piace essere donna, perché in quel lontano 1907 e poi 1909 e infine in quel 1910 qualcuno finalmente capì che anche io ho un pensiero, e posso renderlo libero come ogni altro maschietto del tempo stava facendo; mi piace essere donna perché mi piace esser come tutti gli altri, in fondo cosa cambia?

Al posto di averle in basso due palle, le ho appiccicate sul petto.

Non voglio dire frasi e luoghi comuni come "grazie a noi avete i vostri figli, uomini", perché a riguardo nessuno ha un merito superiore, perché se qualcuno ci ha creati entrambi siamo complementari e non subordinati.

Se qualcuno ha lottato per una parità di diritti, se esiste questa benedettissima uguaglianza voglio lottare e conquistarla ogni giorno, voglio esser donna anche quando le cose si metton male e c'è da rimboccarsi le maniche, voglio esser donna quando c'è da lavorare anche se non si tratta di gonna sexy ma di una tuta grigia e sporca di nero a fine giornata, voglio essere donna e voglio combattere tenacemente in una società "evoluta" e dinamica, in una società dal libero pensiero e dalla mentalità aperta che ancora boicotta l'espressione di ogni genere e di tutti i generi.

"Dichiarazione universale dei diritti umani" e "Dichiarazione dei diritti umani di Vienna", 1945 prima e 1993 poi... vi dice nulla? A me sì, e dice che se io voglio studiare, laurearmi e lavorare in un'azienda e starne a capo, posso farlo perché ho la stessa brama, grinta e forza che avrebbe il mio collega dalle palle attaccate in basso che il colloquio non lo ha superato. Mi dice anche che la mia mansione non è esclusivamente accudire i figli e sfornare lasagne e torte al cioccolato per il mio amato maritino che, povero, al rientro dal suo faticoso lavoro deve trovare qualcosa in tavola e il figlio che già dorme, pulito e profumato. No. Non sono una serva, una schiava, un'allevatrice e macchina di procreazione. Gli antichi romani si sono estinti e siamo nel ventunesimo secolo.

Io sono donna e ho diritto di vivere, io sono donna e ho diritto, io sono donna, io sono. Io. Quell' "io" promotore di soggettività, indipendenza ed esistenza. Non esiste moralmente, eticamente, metaforicamente (chi più ne ha, più ne metta) UOMO e DONNA, esiste io. E quest'ultimo devo ogni giorno, ora, minuto confermarlo senza che altri io prendano il sopravvento.

Io sono donna anche oggi, che non è l'8 marzo, ma in ogni attimo della mia esistenza pretendo reciproco rispetto e fedeltà, detengo la mia dignità e manipolo senza vincoli i fili di un burattino chiamato Vita.

Silvana Blasco

[citizenscreen]

Joe DeRita (July 12, 1909 – July 3, 1993)

[importantwomensbirthdays]

Marianne Straub

Textile designer Marianne Straub was born in 1909 in Amriswil, Switzerland. Straub moved to Britain in the 1930s, and became one of the country's leading textile designers from the 1940s to the 1960s. In 1964, she designed the moquette for London tubes and buses that remained in use until 2000. Straub's fabrics were also used in airplanes, hospitals, ships, and government buildings. She was also an accomplished art educator who taught at the Central School of Art, Hornsey College of Art, and the Royal College of Art. In 1972, Straub was named a Royal Designer for Industry, the highest honor for designers in the UK. In 1993, she won the Sir Misha Black Medal.

Marianne Straub died in 1994 at the age of 85.

Image: DCA-30-1-POR-S-87-1. Design Council Archive, University of Brighton Design Archives

[website-com]

Vittorio Reggianini 1800s, Pascal Dagnan-Bouveret 1882

Frédéric Soulacroix, Bernhard Osterman 1870–1938

józsef arpád koppay 1903, frederic leighton 1830-1896

Artemisia Gentileschi 1623-1625, Sophie Anderson 1823–1903

horst kristner 2015, micheal leonard 1993

Vlaho Bukovac 1909, lothar von seeback 1898

louis anquentin 1886-1887, halyna mazepa 1946

evgeny sedukhin, Andrey Mikhailovich Ponomarev 1960s

scheherazade 1921, willem gerard hofker 1948

albert besnard, clement serneels 1939

Georges Lepape 1912, viktor zaretsky 1989

Makinti Napanangka 2001, Jean-Michel Basquiat 1981

james gleeson 1984 dino, buzzati 1967

[barnsburntdownnow]

Sentinels of Time Michele Russo; American, 1909-2024 Acrylic on canvas, 1993

[henk-heijmans]

Hawaiian beauty in surf, 1947 - by Fritz Henle (1909 - 1993), German/American

[davidhudson]

Joseph L. Mankiewicz, February 11, 1909 – February 5, 1993.

With Marilyn Monroe during the making of All About Eve (1950).

[broadwaydivastournament]

Movie Musical Divas Tournament: Round 1

Maxine Sullivan (1911-1987): Going Places (1938 - Specialty Singer) | St. Louis Blues (1939 - Ida)

"Her film career is quite humble unfortunately, but only because she was underutilised! But what a vocalist she was, and so charming. She's criminally underrated nowadays!" - anonymous

Ruby Keeler (1909-1993): 42nd Street (1933) - Peggy Sawyer | Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933) - Polly Parker | Footlight Parade (1933) - Bea Thorn | Dames (1934) - Barbara Hemingway | Ready Willing and Able (1937) - Jane Clarke

"Originated the role of Peggy in 42nd Street and was the most fantastic dancer. Wish she'd been in more" - anonymous

This is Round 1 of the Movie Musical Divas tournament. Additional polls in this round may be found by searching #mmround1, or by clicking the link below. Add your propaganda and support by reblogging this post.

ADDITIONAL PROPAGANDA AND MEDIA UNDER CUT: ALL POLLS HERE

Maxine Sullivan:

Photos and video submitted by: anonymous

Ruby Keeler:

"a frequent star of busby berkeley musicals. you may have seen her tapdancing on a giant typewriter" - anonymous

Photos and video submitted by: anonymous

[mariacallous]

NOVI SAD, Serbia (JTA) — In the heart of downtown in Serbia’s second-largest city, nestled between brick buildings on a leafy street, sits a large synagogue.

With its 130-foot-high central dome and faded yellow brick facade, along with its Jewish school and offices on either side, the synagogue’s three-building complex has become a must-see tourist attraction, with multilingual panels in its courtyard explaining the area’s Jewish history.

The synagogue was built to accommodate up to 950 worshippers in the first decade of the 20th century. But like the city and Serbia more broadly, the building has clearly seen better days. On two recent days, a family was camped outside the entrance, begging passersby for money.

Before World War II, Novi Sad had roughly 60,000 inhabitants, 4,300 of whom were Jews — about 7% of the total population. Most were affluent merchants, lawyers, doctors and professors. Their wealth was reflected in the city’s opulent synagogue, constructed between 1906 and 1909 by Hungarian Jewish architect Lipot Baumhorn, whose work incorporated elements of the Art Nouveau movement.

Today, however, the prominent building serves a dwindling community that, like others decimated by the Holocaust and further eroded by the Balkan wars of the 1990s, fears for its future as residents disperse abroad. Only about 640 Jews remain in Novi Sad; others have sought a future in Israel or countries that offer more economic opportunity.

“We use our own shul only for Yom Kippur,” said Novi Sad native Ladislav Trajer, the deputy president of the Federation of Jewish Communities of Serbia.

“We get six to 10 people for Shabbat — maybe 15 — but fewer than half are male so we can’t make a minyan,” said Trajer, referencing  a Jewish prayer quorum of 10 men. He spent eight years in Israel and also served in the Israel Defense Forces. “Even in Belgrade, which is much larger, the rabbi doesn’t always get a minyan. And nobody here keeps kosher. You can’t get kosher meat.”

Novi Sad was a thriving center of Jewish life in prewar Yugoslavia and the city — now a metropolis of 370,000 sometimes called the “Serbian Athens” — was named a European Culture Capital of 2022 for its arts, food, architecture and other cultural scenes.

But most local Jews see few prospects for themselves in a country beset by economic turmoil. Between 1990 and 2000 — following Yugoslavia’s collapse; the ethnic wars in Croatia, Bosnia and later Kosovo; and the imposition of crippling sanctions by the United States, the European Union and the United Nations — Serbia’s GDP tumbled from $24 billion to $8.7 billion. By 1993, nearly 40% of Serbia’s people were living on less than $2 a day, and at present, the average Serb earns approximately $430 to $540 a month.

Despite those difficulties, Serbia agreed in 2017 to pay just over $1 million annually over the ensuing 25 years to its remaining Jews as compensation for property nationalized by the postwar communist regime. Half of that money goes directly to Jewish community organizations, 20% to Holocaust survivors and the remaining 30% to projects that aim to preserve Jewish traditions.

Since 2012, the Novi Sad community has also earned income by renting out its huge synagogue to the municipality for classical music concerts. In return, the city maintains the complex as a historic monument, and it is now repairing the synagogue’s roof and fixing leaky water pipes.

“These buildings were close to collapse,” said Trajer. He added that the city’s neglected Jewish cemetery can look like a forest. “So we are cutting the trees and struggling to put up fences.”

Although antisemitic incidents are not too common, Serbia, like most other countries in Eastern Europe, also contends with a strong nationalist streak. Trajer, who monitors antisemitism closely, said around 1,500 Serbs belong to extremist groups, of which perhaps 120 are active. Serbian Action, a small group of neo-Nazis, occasionally holds rallies and spray-paints antisemitic, anti-immigrant and anti-gay graffiti on public buildings.

“In high school, my history professor joked that Hitler couldn’t get into an art academy, and that’s why he decided to kill the Jews,” said Teodora Paljic, a 20-year-old Jewish university student. “I don’t talk about these things with people I don’t feel safe around.”

She said that “Life in Serbia is very difficult” because “all the prices have gone up, but salaries haven’t increased since 2019.”

Novi Sad is the capital of Vojvodina, an autonomous province that covers much of northern Serbia, and at the local Jewish community’s zenith, 86 synagogues flourished in the province. Today, only 11 remain standing, and most have fallen into disuse.

Mirko Štark, president of the Jewish Community of Novi Sad, said Jews first settled in the city in the 17th century, shortly after its founding in 1694 under the Hapsburg monarchy.

“When the Austro-Hungarian Empire, where most Ashkenazim lived, introduced new laws that restricted Jews from living in cities, many people ran to the border area, where these laws were not so strictly enforced,” Štark said. Later, when the Serbs captured Vojvodina, those restrictions were rescinded, and the Jewish community blossomed.

Following World War I and the establishment of the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes — later Yugoslavia — Novi Sad’s Jews enjoyed a cultural and economic renaissance that saw the formation of a Jewish community center, athletic clubs, choirs and several Jewish newspapers.

That renaissance ended abruptly in 1941, when the Hungarian army, in collaboration with Nazi Germany, occupied Novi Sad, making life for Jews intolerable. Over a three-day period in January 1942 now known as the Novi Sad Massacre, the Hungarians rounded up more than 1,400 Jews, seized their property, shot them in their backs and threw them into the freezing Danube River.

After Hungary’s capitulation to Germany, armed guards herded the city’s remaining 1,800 Jews into the synagogue and kept them there for two days in deplorable conditions without food or water. On April 27, 1944, the Nazis marched their weakened Jewish captives to the train station, then forced them on a train to Auschwitz that took two months to arrive due to Allied bombing.

Only 300 of Novi Sad’s Jews survived the Holocaust, and rebuilt the community virtually from scratch in the ensuing postwar chaos.

“There were no religious people anymore, and no rabbi,” said Štark. “Many went to Israel in the first aliyah. The small number of Jews remaining tried to keep the community alive, opening a kitchen to provide food for people who couldn’t buy for themselves. My grandmother survived Auschwitz. She worked in that kitchen.”

According to Trajer, from 1948 to 2022, no Shabbat services were held. These days, Trajer conducts all religious services because he’s the only one who knows the Hebrew prayers fluently.

With 640 members, Novi Sad has the nation’s second-largest Jewish population after Belgrade. The capital is home to more than half of the country’s 3,000 Jews, out of a total population of 7.1 million. Smaller Jewish communities can also be found in Subotica, Niš and other cities. Only the synagogues in Belgrade and Subotica — the latter located a few miles from the Hungarian border — still function.

Most members of the Novi Sad community, including Štark, have married non-Jews.

“My wife is not Jewish. Neither was my mother. Only my father was Jewish,” he said. “After World War II, the choices for finding husbands and wives within the community was limited. For this reason, we accept non-Jewish spouses as members. This is the only way to survive.”

Štark, 70, is a retired professor of media production who worked for years at Novi Sad’s main TV station. He’s also the longtime president of the synagogue’s choir, HaShira, which sings in Hebrew, Ladino and Yiddish and recently won an award for its performances in neighboring Montenegro. Only three of the choir’s 35 members are Jews.

“When I began my mandate as president a year and a half ago, we woke up many activities in the Jewish community that had existed only on a small scale before,” he said.

Besides the choir, these include the Zmaya dance troupe as well as a Jewish culture club that meets every Tuesday at 6 p.m. to discuss books and Israeli movies. There’s also a “baby club” for small children and another club for teens, whose activities are led by two adults. Hanukkah and Passover are celebrated by families together, and on Tu B’Shvat, the community plants trees.

The community is also investing in its members, and Paljic is emblematic of that hope.

Paljic, interviewed at the trendy Café Petrus, a 15-minute walk from Novi Sad’s Jewish cemetery, is the daughter of Jewish parents who met at a Purim party in Belgrade.

“My grandparents were killed in Jasenovac [a notoriously brutal concentration camp], but my best friend’s grandmother survived Auschwitz,” she said. “The problem is, people don’t talk about Judaism because they’re scared. There is still antisemitism. Last year, somebody drew a swastika at the entrance to the Jewish cemetery in Belgrade. We were all shocked.”

This summer, Paljic worked as a counselor at Hungary’s Camp Szarvas, which brings together young Jews from throughout Central and Eastern Europe. The camp welcomed 20 children from Novi Sad this year; the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee paid their tuition.

While she would like to be close to her family, Paljic said she must be practical.

“I want to go somewhere outside Serbia when I finish college,” she said. “I don’t see my career here. I love art history and photography, but there’s no money in that in Serbia.”

Despite the challenges, Štark isn’t ready to say kaddish for Novi Sad’s Jews just yet.

“We will keep the Jewish spirit alive here. We are working hard, starting with the children,” he said. “If we don’t, everything will die in five or 10 years. So it depends on us.”