We spoke to Clare Fraenkel about her monodrama, I Was a German.
‘Britishness’ isn’t about flags, royalty and historical wars, but about tolerance, thoughtfulness and welcome
Clare, your show seems highly topical, but it begins with your grandfather. So let’s start there – tell us his story.
My grandfather, Heinrich Fraenkel – known as Heinz – was a writer and journalist. He lived an eventful life! Growing up, my parents often told me the story of his escape from Nazi Germany: he was, very luckily, tipped off that the Gestapo were waiting in his Berlin flat to arrest him. So he had to flee the country with little more than his passport and the clothes on his back. But as he died when I was very young, my personal memories of him are quite hazy – his German accent, and playing with animal shapes I made from the pipe cleaners in his study.
Then a whole sequence of events kicked off after Brexit. Firstly, I discovered I was entitled to a German passport, but it came with a dilemma, as my grandparents were Jewish refugees, and my right to the passport was due to the way their citizenship had been stripped by the Nazis. Since both are long gone, there was no way of asking them how they’d feel about me ‘reclaiming’ a German nationality.
I decided to go for it, as it felt like quite a positive thing to do. It was only after I submitted my citizenship application that I made a slightly incredible discovery – it turned out my grandad had published a book, Farewell to Germany, explaining why he never returned. So of course, I read it – and was amazed that his reasons for staying in Britain weren’t what I expected. In fact, so much of his story felt like a version of history I’d never encountered before.
With that knowledge, you began a quest to discover your own roots?
Yes – in the sense that, as a third-generation descendant of refugees, my natural instinct had been to look forward and not dwell on the past. But suddenly I had all these questions. I wanted to understand what motivated my grandfather’s decisions – I realised from his book that his attitude to both Germany and Britain was far more complex than I’d imagined, and that his roots in Germany (and therefore my own) were much deeper than I’d ever allowed myself to explore.
It felt natural to me, as an actor, to explore our two stories through a play: intertwining the narratives to give voice to his story and try to understand how he might have felt about my decision to reclaim the citizenship that had been stolen from him. In a way, it made the conversation through the decades feel more present – and I’ve ended up getting to know a grandparent who died before I could really know him.
But your show broadens the personal into a reflection on migration, identity and antisemitism. How do you structure that, and how do you interweave music and visuals?
The music and visuals have been created in quite a playful way, to bring the audience along on my grandfather’s journey – I really wanted his historical migrant story to feel engaging, contemporary and relatable. We embraced the language of 1930s cinema in the use of projections, as cinema is a recurring theme in his narrative. We were also inspired by his enthusiasm for Berlin and its cabaret scene – that’s a big influence on the music (composed by Arran Glass), all played on instruments authentic to Germany of the era. We’ve used these aspects of his life to tell his story in a way that reflects him as a person and also clearly distinguishes the two narratives.
My own narrative is much more grounded in the present – breaking the fourth wall and engaging directly with the audience, to counter the distancing effect I sometimes feel when watching historical pieces – that sense of a story from ‘the olden days’. I’m a real person in the room with the audience, telling my grandad’s true story.
As far as the broader reflection on identity goes, it all stems from the specifics of his story. As they say, ‘the personal is political’ – and I Was a German explores the dehumanising impact of antisemitism and displacement on an individual, and the ripple effects through his family. After an early work-in-progress performance, I chatted with someone from a completely different displaced background, and they really related to the show because of its specificity.
Now I’d like to give you free rein to talk about your work in the context of today – how do you perceive the current climate and the issues we face?
I think the main thing is how incredibly pertinent this story still feels – the rise of the far right and the general intolerance within political debate make it feel like an increasingly urgent perspective to share. In this current age of divisive and fractured political discourse, I was really moved to discover how fervently my German grandfather believed in British tolerance, and saw it as the defining feature of British identity.
Imagine if the messaging we got from politicians today was that ‘Britishness’ isn’t about flags, royalty and historical wars, but about tolerance, thoughtfulness and welcome? That the very essence of being British is being open and accepting towards people who differ from ourselves? Wouldn’t that be fabulous? And is there any way of making it happen?
What would you like audiences to take away from the show?
I’d love them to empathise with my grandfather’s story, and the way he tried to choose his own path – at times more successfully than others – but ultimately the essential humanity of wanting to live on your own terms. I’d also love people to reflect: to be inspired to check in with their worldview – and see if there are any assumptions or beliefs they might want to question. And hopefully to be humming a song or two. And maybe even feel an urge to book a trip to Berlin!
