If you think you’ve contemplated every possible question about the Holocaust—from “What would I have done when Hitler rose to power?” to “Are people basically good, like Anne Frank wrote?” to “Does God even exist? How could it have happened there, then?” to “Could it happen here, now”—“Here There Are Blueberries” may prove that you have not, that there are further mysteries and self-doubts to explore.
The play, written by Moisés Kaufman and Amanda Gronich, conceived and directed by Kaufman (“The Laramie Project” and more) and performed by Kaufman’s Tectonic Theater Project at Berkeley Repertory Theatre as part of a nationwide tour, is cleverly structured as a mystery.
When the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington D.C. received, unexpectedly, a set of photos that the sender, an American World War II vet, believed to be of Auschwitz, the recipients realized that the images were unique.
Unlike the photos in the museum’s extensive archive, these pictures were not of the extermination camp’s prisoners, but of the Germans who lived and worked at Auschwitz: the camp commandants, the cadre of women employees, the administrative staff, and even, as it turned out, the most notorious Nazi villains, including Auschwitz head Rudolf Höss and Dr. Josef Mengele.
The museum archivists set out to discover who took the photos in the album and exactly what they would reveal about the lives of those who, as became increasingly clear, were rewarded with time off at a nearby mountain resort, who had parties, whose children frolicked within sight of the watchtowers. And those who were treated to blueberries.
The mystery of it all, and the questions it provoked, are meticulously detailed through the play’s narrative. A colorblind cast of nine, playing multiple roles—from the museum’s investigative team to survivors both German and Jewish whom the team interviewed, to German grandchildren of Nazis—tell the story sequentially.
Along the way, the photos themselves, beautifully lit and magnified, are projected onto the wall and discussed in detail. There is not a moment in the entire play that is not enormously involving, including the doubts among the museum staff itself; the museum’s commitment is, after all, to humanize and honor the victims. These photos are of perpetrators.
Particularly interesting is the discussion of the cadre of young women—pictured sitting on a ledge and happily eating blueberries—who worked as radio operators, stenographers, etc.
“What did they actually know?” wonders the head archivist/lead narrator. We’ll find out the answer. And, over the course of 90 minutes, the answer to a lot of questions that arose among the archivists as they became more and more immersed in dissecting, down to the last detail, the significance of every single photo in the album.
Also particularly resonant is an interview with Höss’ grandson (played with focused intensity by Marrick Smith). How the troubled descendant processed his history feels unexpectedly meaningful.
With an intricate and clever stage design by Derek McLane and Bobby McElver’s background score that varies from ominous to the faint oom-pah of a beer hall accordion (plus an occasional onstage accordionist), this layered exploration is both heartbreaking and suspenseful.
If only the actors—especially the lead narrator, Delia Cunningham, whose performance is fussy and over-animated—were not so intent upon emoting. The text, the photo images, the elegant staging: that’s all we need. Trust us, the rapt audience, to feel what we feel.
“Here There Are Blueberries” continues through May 11, 2025 at Berkeley Repertory Theatre’s Roda Theatre, 2025 Addison St., Berkeley. Tickets are $64-$134 at berkeleyrep.org.
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