Orna Porat was a beloved Israeli actress who passed away at age 91. She was born in Germany and joined the Hitler Youth as a child, but became disillusioned with it. She later converted to Judaism after moving to Israel in 1946 and marrying a Jewish man. Porat struggled to join an Israeli theater at first but eventually became a leading actress. She founded a children's theater in Israel and directed it for 25 years. Porat had a remarkable passion for Israeli theater and Jewish family life until the end of her life.

1. AUGUST 28, 2015 | OLAM | 13
BY PROFESSOR LIVIA BITTON-JACKSON
F E AT U R E
O
rna Porat, one of the most beloved
Israeli actresses, passed away earlier
this month at the age of 91. Yet, it
seemed to all who knew her that she
died too young. Her youthful enthusiasm
for life in Israel, for the Israeli theater and
for her Jewish family was remarkable.
Orna Porat was a former Christian and
a member of the Hitler Youth. Born Irene
Klein in Cologne to a Catholic father and
a Protestant mother, she joined the Hitler
Youth movement at age ten because she
was attracted to its pageantry and songs.
She became aware of its true nature when
the Gestapo assigned her the task of
informing on fellow members – she was
fourteen at the time.
Deeply disillusioned, she moved to
Schleswig where she attended drama
school. It was while performing in a
repertory theater there that she met her
future husband, Joseph Proter. He was an
officer in the British Army and had been
serving in the British Mandate of
Palestine. He was both a Jew
and an Israeli.
It was love at first
sight. In 1946, she
went to Palestine
with Proter, and
married him in a
civil ceremony. But
all along she desired
to become a Jew. Her
wish was finally grant-
ed with her conversion in
1957. At heart she was a Jewish
mother and needed to embrace children.
To fulfill the need, she and her husband
adopted two children, Lital and Yoram.
After being refused by two Israeli
theaters, she managed to join the Cameri,
the top Israeli stage. Its manager, Yemi-
ma Millo, suggested she
change her name to a
Hebrew-sounding
one, and she be-
came Orna Porat.
Her roles,
on stage and
on screen, ran
t h e g a m u t
from Viola in
“Twelfth Night”
to Rebbetzin Feige
in “Sheindele,” from
Shente Shui Ta in “The
Good Person of Szechwan” to
the title role in “The House of Bernada
Alba,” from Joan of Arc in the Shaw play
to the title role in Schiller’s “Mary Stuart.”
In 1958 she was appointed to the Cameri’s
administrative board. In the early 1960s,
Porat spent three years in France and
England studying children’s theater.
Upon her return to Israel, she founded a
children’s theater, under the wing of the
Cameri because, as she explained: “Chil-
dren need good theater, not intellectual
pap that talks down to them.”
In 1970, the children’s theater be-
came the independently funded Children
and Youth Theater, and Porat ran it for
twenty-five years and directed several
productions. When she retired the theater
was renamed the Orna Porat Theater for
Children and Youth.
Orna Porat is survived by her children,
Lital and Yoram, and their children, her
grandchildren, and her true legacy.
Orna Porat:
The First Lady Of The Theater
I
’m not sure why anyone rents office
space these days. For the price of a
cup of coffee, you can conduct your
business from your local coffee shop.
Just bring your laptop and cell phone.
I love coffee shops and frequently visit
them. They’re wonderful places to relax.
I can think about important issues. Or
write an article if I want. One thing I can
tell you – most people don’t go to coffee
shops to get coffee. The only exceptions
are those folks who buy coffee to take
out. For the rest of us, coffee is the last
reason we’re there. We go to unwind, get
work done, conduct interviews, form busi-
ness partnerships, and get together with
friends. Buying coffee is just an excuse to
rent the table.
I do have to admit, though, that some-
times coffee shops can get annoying.
It’s not like the library. People try to be
quiet in libraries. In coffee shops people
rightfully feel they can talk normally. But
what seems to happen is that people start
to raise their voices to be heard above the
din and, before you know it, you’re in a
chicken market.
To an extent, I’ve learned to tune out
the chickens and get some work done.
What’s harder to tune out than a general
racket, though, is a single interesting con-
versation taking place near me.
Sometimes I’ll be sitting in a coffee
shop minding my own business, when a
group of men walk in wearing expensive
suits and ties, every strand of their hair
in place. They’ll take a table not far from
me, and speak in loud voices about their
multimillion-dollar business deal – while
I pretend I’m not listening.
But usually it’s just friends having a
fascinating discussion. For example, I was
once sitting in a coffee shop when two
gentlemen took a seat at the next table. I’ll
never forget their conversation.
“You should get your-
self a job and earn some
money.”
“I don’t want to work
all day. I’m lazy. I’d rath-
er sit and relax in coffee
shops.”
“I understand. But one
thing – just make sure you
have enough money for
your old age.”
“Oh, I’m not worried
about that. By then I’ll be in
a nursing home. The nurses
will take care of me.”
How can I concentrate
on anything with this type of entertain-
ment?
Thankfully, things have gotten worse
for me. Being not only kosher but cholov
yisroel as well, I’m very limited as to what
I can have at our local Starbucks. I can
only have black coffee with sugar, or one
of their few bottled drinks with a hechsher.
Their sandwiches, salads, lattes and cap-
puccinos are all prohibited to me.
But recently, two kosher cholov yisroel
coffee shops opened up in my neck of the
woods. Now, not only can I be lazy in
coffee shops like that guy, I’m getting fat
and poor while I’m at it.
Your Local Coffee Shop
By Henia