Elisheva Braun

 

He scans the room.

The high-ceilinged hall is packed with kids, some bouncing in their chairs, others squirming in their wheelchairs. Some wave their hands wildly, eager to be called up on stage, others stare wide-eyed at the puppets and props or gaze off into the distance, seemingly lost in a world inaccessible to anyone else.

“The boy in the red shirt, please come up.”

His counselor takes his hand, gently guiding him down the aisle and up the carpeted stage steps.

Ventriloquist Yisroel Silverstein is going to turn an audience member into a puppet. He bends over and secures the mask on the boy’s face.

“Everyone!” his voice rings through the hall. “Give a round of applause for our new puppet!”

He projects his voice, so it comes from the volunteer’s direction, manipulating the mask so the mouth and eyes match the narrative. The boy is bouncing on his heels, rocking and moving in tune with the words. Animated and alive, he looks like a different person than the nonverbal boy from moments ago.

When the segment is over and the mask comes off, the boy in the red shirt is beaming. His counselor rushes onstage, tears in his eyes.

“I’ve never seen him open up and react like that,” he whispers. “For the first time ever, he was expressing himself.”

For Yisroel, his act is about so much more than entertainment. It’s about bringing joy, reaching souls, and teaching worlds.

Act 1

“When I was a young teenager, I started talking without moving my lips, just for the fun of it. Sometimes, I practiced voice throwing in class, making it sound like my voice was coming from different spots in the room, much to my classmates’ delight. That drove my rebbe’im crazy!”

Later, as a 19-year-old staff member in a special needs camp, he learned that ventriloquism was a real thing.

“I bought a puppet, and in camp, my friends helped me name him Shleikes for some reason.

“My first show was in a special needs camp. Special-needs kids have a unique way of tuning into what’s around them. Before the show, I was very concerned about how it would go. I planned a twenty-minute show and showed up overprepared and with a lot more props than I needed. I didn’t know what I was getting into. It went pretty well; the camp ended up paying me,” Yisroel laughs.

In the 15 years since that first performance, Rabbi Silverstein has performed at hundreds of events. Still, the special needs community holds a special place in his heart.

“Even though I don’t usually get the same reaction from them laugh-wise, they’re very intrigued by the show. It’s very wonderous to them. It’s a big zechus for me to be able to give them that sense of marvel.”

In chinuch

Yisroel’s day job is on another stage: the second-grade classroom.

“The joke is that both teaching and ventriloquism involve talking to the wall—talking to puppets and talking to bored kids,” he laughs.

He sees both “inyanim,” as he terms them, as one calling.

“I’m teaching children about the reality of the world, which is Hashem.”

Hailing from a family immersed in psychology—his father, Avraham Yitzchok a”h, was a social worker for 40 years, his mother ybl”c, is a time management coach—he never dreamed he’d be a rebbi. Then, at 20 years old, Yisroel was asked to substitute at a local cheder.

“I jumped into the job, giving it my all. I noticed that the principal peeked into the window here and there. After class, he told me, ‘If you ever want to be a rebbi, I’ll hire you on the spot.’”

The following year, he was a first grade assistant teacher. Yisroel graduated with his class, continuing as their teacher in second grade.

 

G-d given vs. gained

Can anyone become a ventriloquist?

“I think anyone can learn the hard skills of ventriloquism. It takes a lot of practice and grit, like learning to play the violin, a skill I practiced for a while but never quite mastered. Then there are the soft skills. It takes a certain personality and wit, and maybe a touch of ADD, to stay on top of everything that pops up. You also need social intuition to read the crowd.”

Performing ventriloquism isn’t just talking without moving your lips. There’s interacting with the puppet, being both halves of the sketch, making different voices, following a script, and reading the room and making adjustments accordingly.

Tricks of the trade

There’s no training like experience.

“I’ve learned a lot,” Yisroel says. “These days, as I get more comfortable on stage, I can tune into the energy more, read the crowd more.

“There are different tricks I learned to implement that enhance my smoothness and my reacting and interacting with the audience. The show gets better as I grow older. I’ve learned that rather than focusing on getting through my material, I can try to give support to anything that’s needed—in a comical way, of course.”

Still, fifteen years and thousands of happy spectators into his career, Yisroel doesn’t take anything for granted.

“Before every show, I get a brachah from my wife and kids that I have a safe trip and a successful show.”

Illusions

Yisroel loves to weave ruchniyus into his work. It’s how he frames his entire act.

“Kids, and even adults, get lost in the act. Our brains are wired to be fooled by what we see; we think there’s an actual conversation going on when I’m really just talking to myself. A funny example of this is once, when I put a mic in front of a puppet as a prop, a woman in the audience called out, “I can’t hear Shleikes. Can you move the mic closer to him?”

I tell the kids that my act is an optical illusion—although it looks like the puppet is running the show, he isn’t. I explain that my show is similar to This World. It seems that people are in control, making decisions and charting the course of their lives, but actually, it’s all Hashem. The world is an illusion, and only Hashem is real. Just like in my show, even though we know there’s a puppeteer, we still get confused, we sometimes get caught up in the illusion, forgetting that it’s the Eibershter’s world we live in. We have to be detectors who sniff out the illusion.”

 

My two cents

The first recommendation I’d give anyone starting out in entertainment is: Connect what you’re doing to Yiddishkeit. You might think that kids want a break from ruchniyus. They don’t. The foundation of your work should be a lesson, something meaningful for kids to connect to.

I would also tell beginners to keep going. Yagata u’matzasa tamin. If you’re feeling stuck, you just might need to tweak or pivot a bit to find the right niche, venue, or audience.

I’d love to…

Explore puppet therapy.

I once visited the wife of a Holocaust survivor in the hospital. I pulled out a puppet and had a conversation with her. Someone videoed the visit. When the woman’s husband watched the video, he was blown away. “I never saw my wife open up in that way,” he later told me. He suggested that I go into puppet therapy.

One day, I’d love to start a puppet therapy branch to help children open up and heal.

Oh, the places you’ll go

I performed at the Boro Park simchas beis hasho’evah on 13^th Avenue. That event was something special. Another interesting venue was a Chanukah show held in a city courthouse. I sat in the judge’s seat for the act.

Rolling with the punches

Many years ago, when I was first starting out, I had a challenging show like I’ve baruch Hashem never experienced since. The show was late at night, the kids kept coming up and touching the puppets and equipment, and for some reason, the staff decided to serve pizza in the middle of the act. I didn’t know how to react, so I smiled and laughed and tried to keep cool. Gam zu l’tova, it was a learning experience.

Everything that happens is for purpose. When things are a bit challenging either onstage or in the classroom, I’ve learned from years on the job to focus on the good and not react to negativity. Feeding positive energy always works.

My favorite crowd

I enjoy all different audiences, though I have a special place in my heart for those with special needs.

My most memorable audience…

Was an audience of one. I was called to the hospital to visit a boy who unfortunately had a serious illness. The kid was in such a positive mood. He was giving out Thank You Hashem stickers, cracking jokes, and trying to make everyone around him happy. After I performed with a small puppet named Avraham Avinu, the boy asked if Avraham Avinu could lie in his bed. I placed him in the bed and told him that he could keep it.

Ad-libbing

Though I come with a script, the life of the show is the ad-libbing. I like to tune into the energy of the crowd, picking up little clues and putting them into the show. On the same note, I’m very sensitive to never put anyone down.

We talk about things like middos and dealing with social issues, for example. I do scenes with Shleikes where someone teased him and he got into a fistfight. I teach him how to respond with humor rather than answering back. Kids really connect with these topics and appreciate the humor in the skits. They walk away with a laugh and perhaps a reflection that can help them in the next social challenge they have.

Platforms

Today, if someone has talent, there are plenty of platforms to showcase it. There are incredible opportunities for self-expression. As long as our goal is to make the world a better place, we should utilize them.

Secret fans

When Yisroel performs for kids, the adult onlookers are just as enchanted. His wit and impeccable sense of timing has the grownups in stitches.

Cast of characters:

Some of the Shleikes Show puppets:

with pictures

Shleikes Hoizentrager is a little boy who enjoys learning things in cheder and always has a funny twist on lessons.

Zeidy is funny but serious and full of life advice.

Chatzkel is a very fluffy, very happy-go-lucky puppet.

Baby usually wakes up in the middle of show. I have to take care of him because I couldn’t find a babysitter.

Yetzer Hara is a tiny guy with a loud voice.