MTG Pre-Pitch — Canvas Presents, Inc.

A teen-aged Dutch Jewish violinist and composer (IDA) makes an ambitious goal that reflects her passion: she wishes to write one hundred pieces in her lifetime. When Amsterdam - her beloved hometown - becomes an occupied Nazi territory, she must go into hiding. With resources scarce, and the unbearable weight of fear and loss upon her, music becomes her sole tie to humanity.

Historical composers HENRIETTE BOSMANS (1895-1952), DICK KATTENBURG (1919-1944), LEO SMIT (1900-1945), and ROSY WERTHEIM (1888-1949) come to life as featured members of the vibrant Dutch Jewish musical community surrounding Ida that becomes suppressed by the Holocaust.

Story by Lynn Hutchinson (USA). Visual development by Julia Veldman C. (Netherlands). Musical score by Merima Ključo (Bosnia). Ida’s story is guided by Holocaust education standards set by USC Shoah Foundation.

PROLOGUE:

A young woman donning a violin case on her back is rushing across 57th Street in New York City. She is late for rehearsal at Carnegie Hall. Anxiously awaiting her arrival are the other members of her small ensemble. Setting down her iPhone and taking off her hoodie, she hands a new piece to the players, titled only with a number: “22.”

ACT ONE:

It is pre-War Amsterdam. People are seen walking, biking, and taking trams across town. Het Concertgebouw - the city’s orchestra hall - stands proudly at the end of the square. Grey and brown canal houses crowd together on cobblestone streets underneath the spinning wheels of IDA’s bicycle. As is customary in Holland, ground floor windows have open curtains, revealing to passers-by the happenings of its inhabitants. Street musicians and barrel organs provide the city’s soundtrack.

The dominant soft brush strokes and warm palettes of people and places are interrupted by occasional hard lines and monotones - visual representations of hearts hardened and Nazi collaboration.

As IDA pedals towards home, she passes the apartments of composers - working on their next pieces. We hear their music playing and see vibrant colors and shapes showing each artist’s inner thoughts as they create. We see/hear LEO, ROSY, DICK, and HENRIETTE as IDA passes each of their homes.

IDA arrives at home to the loving embrace of her mother. The home is humble and small. Not well-appointed with furniture or art, but characterized by a small silver menorah, three framed photographs, a coffee can filled with sharpened pencils, a tea kettle that rattles and whistles, and a large antiquated upright piano in the corner.

IDA unloads her bag. It is stuffed with music manuscript paper. She excitedly shows her mother her latest work, marked “7.” With enthusiasm, she crosses off the same number on a sheet of paper fixed to the wall. The paper shows numbers from 1 to 100.

IDA’S MOTHER tends to the tea, returning to a small round table with a chipped cup. She reaches in her pocket, pulls out a small piece of paper, and sets it on the table in front of IDA. It is a ticket to see the orchestra at the Concertgebouw. IDA’s eyes light up at the sight and embraces her mother. Scene closes with close-up of “7” crossed off on the paper on the wall. FADE OUT

We see IDA’s progress move forward, as numbers 8, 9, and 10 are also crossed off. IDA is getting ready to leave for the orchestra concert. She kisses her mother on the cheek, walks out the door, and gets on her bike. IDA heads towards the Concertgebouw.

As she travels through the city, we see far more straight lines and menacing black and white interjections. There is more propaganda, more signs of building distrust and anger…even young people joining in on signs of collaboration. IDA is at slight disease, but pedals forward.

While she moves on, the sky begins to change color. Slowly at first, then drastically. We hear crowds starting to murmur - then yell - as they run towards the square. IDA becomes worried. She pulls over. Everyone is fixed on the sky. What is it? What is there? It looks like hundreds of large black birds are falling to the ground. The puzzle is solved quickly as the ferocious sounds of bombs and destruction consume the space around her.

There is chaos. People are running. Gasping. Crying. Yet some are smiling. Saluting. Others are looking around to see how people around them respond. These people look afraid. And cowardly.

The timeline advances in this moment at a fantasy pace. IDA looks towards the Concertgebouw to see Jewish instrumentalists being escorted out of the building. Some are angry. Others, confused and bewildered. While she continues to look, a Nazi flag unfurls over the front of the building.

She looks away and surveys the street in front of her. A crowd has gathered on a sidewalk, as if a parade were about to start. Many in the crowd stand with right arms pointed upwards in a 45-degree angle as a line-up of German tanks approach. The tanks are followed by soldiers on motorcycles and even more on foot. The response from the crowd is mixed. Not all are angry or defensive against the intruders. Some warmly welcome the occupiers.

IDA is disoriented, struggling to put together what is happening. Snapping out of her haze, she thinks of her MOTHER and panics. IDA grabs her bicycle and speeds home. She and MOTHER embrace. They are crying and trying to comfort each other. We hear the sound of a siren approaching the house.

Without a moment’s delay, MOTHER pushes IDA into a closet, throws the hanging coats on top of her, and shuts the door. There is a pounding at the door. Two Dutch POLICEMEN enter without permission. They walk past mother and survey the piano. MOTHER begins to argue with them, gestures with hands, upset about the intrusion. NAZI SOLDIER enters, police stop what they are doing and stand at attention with a “Heil Hitler.”

IDA watches through a keyhole in the closet door.

Returning to the room, the NAZI points to the piano, then to the door. Being given a command, the POLICEMEN turn, pick it up, and take it away. As they do so, the framed photograph on the table falls to the floor. We see the wallpaper around where the piano once was is lighter, having faded from the sun. The “100 Pieces” paper remains fixed to the wall.

Through the keyhole, IDA sees MOTHER crying into her handkerchief. NAZI grabs MOTHER by the arm. MOTHER tries to resist. In the struggle, the “100 Pieces” paper is knocked off the wall. The paper floats in the air towards the closet, blocking the IDA’s view just as NAZI leads MOTHER out the door.

In only a brief moment, as the paper lands on the floor, MOTHER has been taken away. There is silence. And IDA is in the closet, all alone. Her eyes are darting, her breath is stunted, she is stifling sobs.

IDA opens the closet door. Her eyes dart about the room. When she assesses it is safe, she comes out - in a wide-eyed shock / daze. She kneels on the floor, next to the broken framed photograph of her and MOTHER. We see the “100 Pieces” paper on the floor. PROTAGONIST picks it up. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices something on the back of the paper. She turns it over and sees the name Jacobus written in her mother’s handwriting on the bottom right-hand corner of the page.

She is processing what needs to happen next.

Stunned, she stands up, walks about the room, grabbing the framed photograph, three pencils, the menorah, and the “100 Pieces” paper. She puts the meager items into her sack. She looks around her home one last time. Then turns with a sense of resolve (a decision to *appear* strong in this horrible moment), and exits.

As she walks away from her home, she looks to where her bike had been. It is gone. A truck marked “PULS” is seen driving away. Looking nervously about her, she starts walking. At a brisk pace. Although this is the neighborhood in which she grew up and loved, it is now a place of danger and risk. She walks on. She looks small.

She reaches the door of a house. She knocks quietly, looking around nervously to see if anyone sees her. We see the door open just a crack. IDA shows the person behind the door the back of “100 Pieces.” We see his face. This is JACOBUS. He nods briefly and opens the door. IDA hurries inside.

JACOBUS holds a lantern that leads IDA up a series of poorly-lit staircases and into an attic room. There is one window, but it is boarded with wood planks. There is a small pile of blankets and a pillow on the floor. There is a pot on the floor for a toilet. There is a small wooden stool next to the blankets with a damaged tin cup sitting on it.

The ceiling is so low, IDA can only stand up in the middle of its A-frame. The girl is both disturbed by her new surroundings and grateful for the man’s help. We see his face for a moment. He smiles gently, with understanding, kindness, and dedication. He hands her the lantern and exits.

In the flickering light of the lantern, we see IDA’s face. A single tear travels from her eye down her cheek. The light starts to fade, then goes out.

BLACK / SILENCE

ACT TWO:
There are distinct visual changes to the environment of Amsterdam. Darkness. Rough edges. Jagged lines. Vibrant colors replaced with browns and greys.

We get a sneak peek of each composer’s new situation. ROSY is in her home, hiding one of her young piano students with her. LEO narrowly escapes being captured in a razzia - a random round-up of Jewish men. HENRIETTE is playing at a black evening - a secret concert in a private home. DICK is hiding at home, composing new pieces and partaking in secret composition lessons with LEO by mail.

We see each composer taking care of their scores: some, by erasing or cutting their names off of the paper. Others, by preparing them in boxes to be hidden.

LEO begins to daydream. He imagines himself bowing in front of a packed audience at the Concertgebouw. His fantasy zooms out to the audience applauding the performance. In this imaginary audience is IDA and MOTHER, applauding voraciously.

We are now in IDA’s dream.

IDA and her MOTHER walk arm in arm out of the Concertgebouw. IDA is excited by what she just saw and heard. Mother stops her, reaches into purse, and hands her a gift: a roll of music paper, tied with a leather strap, three pencils, and a chart written to one hundred. Ida lights up with delight, smiling, hugs MOTHER.

CLOSE-UP of their embrace. CLOSE-UP morphs back to real time...IDA is hugging a blanket, not her mother. She is in her hiding place. Her mother isn’t there. It was a dream. We see her mother’s hair clip sitting on top of the “100 Pieces” in focus on the floor next to where IDA is laying. The floor board underneath lies a little crooked, not fully flat.

There is silence. IDA stares at the crooked floor board, then focuses on “100 Stukken”. Numbers one through ten are crossed out on it. She stares at the paper for a moment then quickly turns away. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She opens her eyes and sees her mother’s hair clip. She picks it up and stares at it for a moment. She wants to write again - a melody for her lost mother. She places the clip in her lap and begins to write.

TIMELAPSE:

Hands writing music
Hands “playing” piano on her lap
Looking out a small uncovered portion of the window, IDA sees Amsterdam. We see / hear indications of other hidden Jewish musicians making music in their hiding places.
The list of compositions on “100 Pieces” progressively gets crossed off.
Representations of SILENCE, STILLNESS, FEAR, HUNGER
She begins to place her meager items around her as though they are members of an orchestra.
Newspaper headlines from underground newspapers

The stories of the other composers advance:

ROSY helps her young student hide. She also stays in hiding
Together with the CKC Resistance Group, HENRIETTE’s girlfriend FRIEDA bombs the registry office
DICK captured in a raid at a movie theater.
Leo gives divides his scores and notebooks between a student and a colleague.

Time-lapse ends with seeing the “100 Pieces.” Ida is on Number 17.

IDA reaches out to the crooked floor board and sees if she can either push or pull it. With some wiggling, it comes loose and lifts straight up. She holds a candle near the opening.

IDA is writing music by candlelight, her “orchestra” of items scattered around her, when she hears a disturbance from outside the house. Shouting. Pounding. Loud footsteps. She jumps up and peeks out the window. Down on the street, we see Co being dragged away by Nazi police. He turns his head slightly her direction and sees IDA in the window. He turns his head quickly forward, so as to not alert soldiers to IDA’s hiding place.

IDA is panicked. She freezes in place, listening to every pin drop of sound around her. She decides to move. Fumbling as she goes, IDA grabs her sheet music, the “100 Pieces,” and her mother’s hair clip. In a hurry, she tosses them on the floor next to the loose board. With shaking hands, she opens to the board. She puts her papers and the clip inside.

She hears footsteps and voices, causing her to freeze. A second later, she quickly closes the floor board and steps to the corner of the room. The sound of footsteps and voices is coming closer. CLOSE-UP of IDA’s face in the dark, lit by candlelight. The sounds get louder still during the close-up. A big crescendo. As the sounds get right outside her room, she blows out the candle.

BLACKOUT. SILENCE. PAUSE.

The sun rises on the hiding place. In our CLOSE-UP view, we see the crooked floorboard. Shot widens to include the whole hiding space in our view, but the crooked floorboard is the only thing that stays in focus.

We see, in blur, items and people come and go in the background, depicting the passing of time. Of years. Of decades. Objects get put in the attic, and taken away. Bit by bit, the attic gets filled with stuff. We see bodies, legs, hands moving around the space. Fashions on these bodies change. Objects change. But the crooked floor board remains perfectly in focus, untouched.

Until one day, someone notices.

A body, pair of legs, hands (no head/face) who has put a box in the space stubs her toe on the crooked floorboard and goes in for a closer look. She kneels on the floor, feeling the outer edge of the floorboard. She wiggles it a little. It doesn’t budge. She rumbles around in some boxes behind him/her and finds a crowbar. She wedges it between the board and surrounding floor. With some struggle, the floorboard pops upward. She sets down the crowbar. Using both hands, he/she lifts the floor board gently up and out.

With caution, the hands reach into the space and pull out: a rusted hair clip, a faded piece of paper with “100 Pieces” written on the top, and a dusty stack of sheet music.

ACT THREE:
We see an ensemble - the ensemble from the Prologue. But now, the players are in concert dress. They are tuning instruments and warming up. There is a growing din of voices as the audience comes into the theater.

In the balcony, scattered among faceless modern audience members, are the ghosts of famous composers past: Mozart, Duke Ellington, Copland, and Debussy. They smile and gesture in greeting to each other. Unnoticed by the modern humans, the door behind the balcony opens. The ghost composers turn their heads. With caution, curiosity, and a touch of optimism, in walk DICK, ROSY, HENRIETTE, and LEO. J.S. BACH stands and greets them warmly and gestures for them to sit down. We see five empty seats, each with a reserved name on it: ROSY, DICK, LEO, and HENRIETTE.

We can’t see the name on the fifth seat. But in the seat immediately next to it, we see - very slightly - someone familiar who is turned in her seat, looking in the direction of the door, as if waiting for someone.

Focus on the balcony door again. It opens slowly. In a blurred foreground, we see the ghost composers turn toward the door to see who it is. It is IDA. The composers greet her with a smile / wave then return to their conversations. IDA walks in slowly, trying to understand what is happening. She looks around to see if there are any familiar faces.

Then, she sees a face she knows. With a smile and tears, she walks proudly to her mother who reaches out her hand to hold IDA’s. IDA sits in the fifth chair, not letting go of her mother’s hand and looking at her the whole time. She leans her body against her.

In her mother’s lap, we see a program. On it are Beethoven, Schumann, Price, and the name Ida [LAST NAME].

The lights go dim. The concert is about to begin.

With a single violin beginning, we hear the song IDA wrote when inspired by her mother. IDA smiles and closes her eyes, listening and imagining all the music in her mind.

As the music plays, close-ups on each featured composer as they face the stage, listening to the performance. This is the moment we briefly share 1) a real life photograph, 2) his/her fate, and 3) how their music came to be found:

HENRIETTE BOSMANS was able to use her connections to Concertgebouw conductor Mengelberg to keep her and her mother out of a concentration camp. Her girlfriend and resistance fighter Freida Belinfante fled the Netherlands. Henriette survived the war.

After spending time at Westerbork Camp, JOHNNY & JONES were sent on the last train out of the Netherlands to Auschwitz. They were killed only days later.

ROSY WERTHEIM remained in hiding throughout the Occupation, helping other Jews hide as well. She survived the War but died shortly thereafter.

DICK KATTENBURG composed in hiding, receiving secret lessons from Leo Smit via mail. Decades later, his compositions resurfaced through his sister and an old girlfriend. He never heard any of his pieces performed in his lifetime. Dick was captured, sent to Auschwitz, and murdered shortly thereafter.

LEO SMIT and his wife were forced into the Jewish Ghetto in Amsterdam. During this time, Leo methodically removed his name from his compositions and ensured safe delivery of his scores and notebooks to two different locations. Leo’s is the namesake of the premiere lost music research organization in the NL. Leo and his wife were murdered in Auschwitz.