Suzy Ultman is Playing with Purim
Two weeks before Purim, Eitan Gutenmacher, the creative director of Havurah, sat down with illustrator and artist Suzy Ultman to chat about play, Buddhism, war, and finding creative humanity within some of the darkest experiences we endure. Their transcription below has been edited for clarity.
Suzy Ultman: Thank you for taking the time to interview me right before your trip to Israel. You must be super busy.
Eitan Gutenmacher: It’s my pleasure. Thank you for making the time as well.
SU: Can’t remember the last time I went to Israel. We lived there when I was in second grade, and we were supposed to go back as a family sometime in the 90s. And you know how stuff is always happening there. I think another war broke out.
EG: When was it? Was it the Intifada?
SU: It might have been.
EG: Probably a good time to avoid travel, yeah. I am curious in terms of your connection with Israel as an artist. As well as, just a Jewish person and your connection to the country before October 7, and after October 7, how that maybe has shifted, if it has at all?
I guess I just mean to ask– What is your connection to Israel? It sounds like you did grow up with a connection.
SU: Yeah, it's such a good question. And I really appreciate you asking it in the way that you did. Because, as you know, it’s a nice time to talk and connect with other people that understand it. And also that appreciate the space that we're all sharing and trying to communicate around it.
That piece that Havurah released by Alex Woz– that was really helpful for me because I haven't really been able to put my finger on the fact that part of my identity was being politicized.
Because I've been openly Jewish, it's influenced one aspect of my creative journey significantly in the past five years. I feel there's a space needed for kids to see themselves reflected in contemporary Judaism. Navigating this publicly since October 7 has been a challenge. My connection with Israel and my family's history, particularly their survival through the Holocaust and our time living in Israel, has deeply impacted me. My grandparents moved close to us, and we had this tradition of Friday night dinners before Shabbat, connecting me to my Jewish roots and personal history.
Growing up, Israel felt magical. I remember the vibrant celebrations of holidays, the community, and also the underlying tension due to security concerns. I learned Hebrew quickly because I was little, playing with people on the playground. The holidays were celebrated differently, very festive. I remember Sukkot, living in an apartment building, and how people built sukkahs on their balconies for dinner. Purim there was very developmental for me, remembering the smells and tastes. We brought some of those traditions back with us. My cousins had a farm on a moshav, and visiting them became a big part of my DNA, as well as my family.
That time in second grade, around eight or nine years old, was magical. Running around the moshav, getting eggs from a chicken coop, and the sense of community was a joyful time but also interesting. My parents warned us about the dangers, like not picking up anything off the ground because of security concerns. This sense of caution, alongside the fun, was definitely part of my experience.
EG: Yeah. I think living in Israel, even briefly, leaves you with joy and nostalgic memories but also a sense of collective trauma from the conflict. It’s an interesting duality. Your work, geared towards children, is playful and positive, even though it seems to carry a richness of human experiences –both traumatic and joyful. I've noticed, though, that while it’s born out of this real human experience, it never invokes bad thoughts, which I assume is intentional?
SU: Yes, it is. For me, creating is a healing process. My aim is to challenge in a joyful way. A significant shift happened when my sister passed away from cancer eight years ago. She lived a positive and adventurous life, despite her struggles. Losing her, I discovered a book that helped me process my grief, emphasizing carrying forward what the person represented. I've always associated her with play, which was a crucial part of our relationship since childhood. To honor her memory and for my healing, I embraced "Make Time for Play" as a principle. This concept became central to my work, shaped further by someone who suggested it encapsulate my brand.
I've learned the importance of play in my life, not just as a creative outlet but as a vital part of my being.
The concept of play is deeply embedded in my approach to life and work. It's about being present and engaging joyfully with the world. This mindset helps me connect with others, fostering creativity and happiness.
EG: Does your Judaism influence this play?
SU: Yeah, we may have talked about this before, but my rabbi was very playful. He played the guitar, and back then I don't know if a lot of Rabbis were playing guitar. I was just singing the song to my husband, who's not Jewish, and I was thinking about Rabbi Jeff playing every time we’d come upstairs after Sunday school. We'd all come upstairs, all the classes, and sit together and he would play us in and play us out with his guitar. So I think he instilled that joy for me, for sure. And also Judaism can be approached in different ways, it doesn't have to be one way or the other. It's about sharing that space and being good to each other. And, the more contemporary idea of Mitzvah’s is what it means to be there for yourself and for your family and for your community. But generally, like there was, it was just about sharing that space together. And so he made every service very joyful, and very, very playful. And I think he probably, for the time, he was Rabbi and was like breaking a lot of rules to make it accessible.
We did have traditional Hebrew school, and we did have traditional Bar Mitzvah and services, but he also did a lot to make it accessible for people and make it very playful. And I think my parents, my parents did that too.
EG: Seeing your work, inspired by play and early childhood, and how you describe those times with such potent, beautiful memories always involving the senses - something you could smell, taste, or see - it all just sounds like vivid childhood memories. It's interesting, because your work is so playful and positive. I see all these scenes as scenes of play, which seems fundamental, but maybe it's more subconscious for you.
SU: I think that's accurate. Drawing and doodling, for me, is play, and I've been engaging in this since I was really young. But I see myself more as a maker. When I'm truly happy, it's when I'm using my hands to create something. That's where I've always felt most at home, with myself. This connection to making, something I shared with my parents from such a young age, was incredibly formative. And then, Rabbi Jeff, he was really open to any type of conversation, which made our space of Judaism akin to a play space, where there's no fear, and plans don't exist, allowing you to exist in the moment.
I found out from my mom that we were Reconstructionist, but I always thought we were conservative. My parents leaned conservative, but growing up under Rabbi Jeff's teachings was more open, allowing for an exploration of Judaism in a freer way. This openness made me think about not passing generational trauma onto my children, encouraging them to fully embrace their Jewish identity in a positive light.
EG: On Judaism and play, do you see an obvious connection between Purim and play, or at least Purim as this time to play?
SU: Purim was one of the few big holidays centered around a woman, Queen Esther, which was exciting because she saved the day. We always had a big Purim Carnival, and that had it all for me. Dressing up in costumes, marching by class, and baking with my mom or my grandparents because we were making hamantaschen. So there was sewing, making, baking, and then the Purim Carnival itself. My mom, being the kindergarten teacher, had us decorate the fishing booth, a classic carnival game. But for Purim, it felt special, celebrating through these acts of making and playing, and the services were so much fun because of the story's focus on Esther's heroism. It was like all the elements of things that made me happy were present during Purim.
EG: It's interesting because the Purim story is this age-old tale of someone trying to destroy the Jews, and here we have a holiday that's all about joy, community, and essentially play, despite the shadow of antisemitism.
SU: Exactly, and that's the unique thing about Purim. We focus on Haman, the antagonist, but it's his defeat and Esther's bravery that we celebrate. It's empowering, and the way we celebrate, by dressing up, making noise to drown out Haman's name, and enjoying hamantaschen, it turns the narrative into one of triumph and joy. The triangle cookies, the costumes, the carnival - it's all designed to pull you into the celebration, making it about victory and happiness, embodying the essence of play even amidst a story of attempted destruction.
I think what Purim taught me, fundamentally, was the power of narrative and the role of play in shaping our understanding of ourselves and our history. By stepping into different costumes, we're exploring different facets of our identity, both as individuals and as a community. It's a time when the boundaries between the fear and the joy blur. I love it.
Preorder Suzy’s book “I Like Your Chutzpah: And Other Yiddish Words You'll Like” Here