Varda

Varda Yoran, Brooklyn-based sculptor with a profound history across multiple continents, has lived a life deeply intertwined with a rich tapestry of cultural narratives. Born in China to Russian Jewish parents, Varda's early years were shaped under the influence of Chinese, Russian, English, Jewish, and Japanese cultures. Her educational journey spanned from the Jewish School in Tientsin during the Japanese occupation to advanced art studies at New York's Art Students League and the New School for Social Research.

Her diverse professional background includes teaching, journalism, social work, and graphic arts before she fully embraced her passion for sculpture. Varda’s art is often a dialogue between her experiences and the viewer. Her sculptures, displayed in significant locations such as Tel-Aviv University and the Museum of Ghetto Fighters in Israel, narrate stories of heritage, resilience, and the human condition. Varda’s honors include the Eleanor Roosevelt Award for Women’s Equality and an Honorary Fellowship from Tel-Aviv University, underscoring her contribution to arts and culture.

With a nod to Charles Dickens, this is “A Tale of Two Borschts.” Or, more accurately, this is a journey of 3 attempts at this interview, the 7 months between them, the influence of 7 countries (China, Japan, Israel, England, United States, Russia, and Peru), the settings of one lake house and one apartment in Brooklyn — and two borschts, summer and winter.

I met Varda Yoran a few years ago. Varda’s life has intersected with 90+ years of world history and culture. Born in China to Russian Jewish parents, Varda grew up there through age twenty (spending ages 2-8 in a city called Darien which was a Japanese city occupied from Russia) . Over these formative years in China, she ate Russian Jewish food made by her mother, Eastern European food served in a restaurant owned by her father, Chinese food cooked by her beloved Chinese “Amma” at home, and Japanese food at local restaurants. From her childhood, she fondly recalls Chinese dumplings eaten with chopsticks, Japanese Udon enjoyed with chirirenge (Japanese spoons), and her father’s stuffed cabbage at the restaurant. But her favorite dish has always been borscht, a beet soup with both hot and cold preparations. 

When she was twenty, Varda and her sister moved to Israel (right after it was recognized as a country), where they lived and flourished for the next thirty years. They married and raised children while helping to build the country together with their fellow Jews who came from around the world – including South and Central America, Australia, and Japan -- and, like them, China.

After those three decades, Varda and her husband spent two years in London (getting acquainted with shepherd’s pie and authentic English muffins) and then came to the US in 1979, where they settled in Long Island, New York; joined the melting pot that is America; and were exposed to different cuisines through restaurants and relationships. Varda’s daughter Dafna married Peruvian artist Ana de Orbegoso, who is an excellent cook, and they have been together more than 20 years, sharing many Peruvian meals with Varda. One of Varda’s personal assistants, Roque, is also Peruvian and cooks for Varda often. Another of her assistants, Zhanna, is Russian – which brings us back to borscht.

The constant over all these food experiences — the dish that Varda says feels most like home — is borscht. Varda frequently ate borscht as a child both made by her mother and at her father’s restaurant. She then prepared it often for her children, who loved it as well, and continued to make it over her adult life until advancing age has made it untenable to cook for herself.

On a summer weekend in August 2023, I joined Varda at her daughter’s Pennsylvania lake house with a group of Dafna’s family and friends, and we all ate the borscht, discovering the amazing story behind it. We then planned the interview.

Schedules first aligned on a Sunday in October 2023 at Varda’s Brooklyn apartment, and Zhanna made hot borscht this time. But an unexpected ER trip for me derailed the day (thankfully, I was fine at the end of the day). Attempt #2 was a week later in Brooklyn, with another batch of borscht cooked by Zhanna, but signals got crossed and, again, the interview did not happen. Major life circumstances then intervened and our next attempt was March 9, 2024, where things finally came together. The third time’s the charm. On this cold, rainy and raw winter’s day, I happily sat down with Varda over hot borscht that was procured from a specialty store nearby, as Zhanna was not able to make the borscht that time. In line with Varda’s love of borscht, all borscht is good borscht – whether homemade or not.

In the span of seven months, this tale of two borschts had journeyed us from the summer borscht to the winter borscht. From the cold, summery, vibrant, creamy, light, and tangy borscht of August to the hot, wintry, nourishing, robust, saucy and meaty borscht of early March. But the constants were Varda’s appreciation for all forms of this dish, cabbage for the hot and beets as the central ingredient for the cold, the umami interplay of sour and sweet, and the intensity of flavor and color, from summer’s regal deep ruby to winter’s jewel-toned burgundy.

Cold borscht is made from boiled beets, pickled cucumbers, green onions (no cabbage, Varda says!) boiled eggs, mineral water, salt and dill and gets its tang from kefir and sour cream; hot borscht combines cabbage, beef, tomato paste/sauce, onions and garlic and gets its tang from vinegar and a sour cream garnish. Both are luscious and delicious in their own ways.

Like Varda, I believe we all have our borscht – the dish we will eat any time, any place, anywhere, any mood, hot or cold. The thing that delights us, soothes us, connects us. Its aroma, its taste dancing on our tongue, its appearance in our bowl – these elements envelop and embrace us and transport us home, to our families and ancestors and descendants, from China to Brooklyn. We all have our borscht. Across the miles or months or seasons. Across our life events and the company we keep. The dish that transcends time and place. This is universal. Each person’s borscht is eternally there – waiting for us.

Varda has lived in four countries – China, Israel, England  and the US – and has been significantly influenced by three more – Russia, Japan and Peru. In reflecting on her life, she says that she has been an “immigrant over and over.” And that “We don’t realize how our lives are run by politics and strangers,” as people in power who we have never met make decisions which affect our daily lives and destiny in profound ways.

Despite all the political forces that have impacted the course of her life, what I saw and heard when speaking with Varda is her unwavering resilience and self-determination. Varda’s life story, food memories and the tale of two borschts have made me think of my favorite Camus quote:

“In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.”

Through her complex journey, Varda has embodied both winter and summer. Her borschts have also combined and linked winter and summer. And that inspires me – and, like Camus, makes me happy.

Text by Margarita Garcia