2010 - Yiddish Song
2010 - Yiddish Song
Levine
EDITORIAL BOARD
Rona Black, Shoshana Brown, Gershon Freidlin, Geoffrey Goldberg,
Charles Heller, Kimberly Komrad, Sheldon Levin, Laurence Loeb,
Judy Meyersberg, Ruth Ross, Anita Schubert, Neil Schwartz, David Sislen,
Sam Weiss, Yosef Zucker
The Journal of Synagogue Music is published annually by the Cantors Assembly. It offers articles and music of broad interest to the hazzan and other
Jewish professionals. Submissions of any length from 1,000 to 10,000 words
will be considered.
GUIDELINES FOR SUBMITTING MATERIAL
All contributions and communications should be sent to the Editor, Dr. Joseph A. [email protected] a Miscrosoft
Word document, with a brief biography of the author appended.
Musical and/or graphic material should be formatted and inserted
within the Word document.
Footnotes are used rather than endnotes, and should conform to the following style:
A - Abraham Idelsohn, Jewish Liturgy (New York: Henry Holt), 1932: 244.
B - Samuel Rosenbaum, Congregational Singing; Proceedings of the
Cantors Assembly Convention (New York: Jewish Theological Seminary),
February 22, 1949: 9-11.
Max Wohlberg. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6
Bret Werb. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35
Joseph A. Levine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
Contrafaction
MAIL BOX
REVIEWS
IN MEMORIAM
Isaac Goodfriend (1924-2009).................................................... 257
Barry Serota (1948-2009)............................................................ 260
Samuel Fordis (1921-2010) ....................................................263
Despite the fact that everyday spoken Yiddish may be facing an uphill battle in
the United States, Yiddish song has provided the musical sound track for the
construction of a new progressive, secular, Yiddishist youth culture, writes
Alicia Svigals,1 noted klezmer violinist and teacher. Elements of Yiddish folk,
theater, and art song have been extensively appropriated by Klezmer, the
musical expression of todays hip Jewish youth. The starting point for that
genre was the style of Yiddish folk song, posits trumpeter Frank London,2
founding member of several klezmer ensembles. That borrowing put PAID
to an old debt, for Yiddish song had initially found its musical origins in the
modes of Hebrew prayer.
In THE MANY FACES OF YIDDISH SONG Max Wohlberg examines
the symbiotic relationship between songs of the synagogue and Yiddish folk
songs, and Bret Werb shows how composer Joseph Rumshinskys early Yiddish
theatre hits set the pattern for American Yiddish pop music. Joseph Levine
documents the improvisation of music and lyrics in Yiddish dance songs
early days, while Philip Bohlman and Otto Holzapfel find common cultural
elements in the folk songs of Eastern and Western Ashkenazic Jewry. Janet
Leuchter focuses on a surviving prototype of Yiddish religious song, and Joel
Colman explains why the recordings of bass-baritone Sidor Belarsky remain
popular among American Jewish audiences. Asya Vaisman unveils the hidden
song repertoire of modern Hasidic women, and Gershon Freidlin praises the
raucous Yiddish-English mixture that was Mickey Katzs trademark.
NUTS AND BOLTS presents essays by two authorities in their respective
fields: veteran voice teacher Michael Trimble writes on the breath-based biomechanics of great singing; and musician/scholar Joshua Jacobson surveys
the never-ending battle for supremacy between words and music.
MAIL BOX recalls longtime JTS Professor of Ethnomusicology Johanna L.
Spector, and pinpoints a growing trend in congregations to employ cantors
1
Alicia Svigals, Why Do We Do This Anyway? American KlezmerIts Roots
and Offshoots, Mark Slobin, ed. (Berkeley: University of California Press), 2002: 213.
2
Frank London, An Insiders View, American Klezmer, op. cit., p. 207.
Dm
Gm
Dm
A7
Dm
Corrected excerpt from Aaron Blumenfelds Nigun Waltz #1 (JSM FALL 2008: 235)
Editors Note: As this issue went to press, we were saddened by the untimely
passing at age 46 of our beloved colleague, Deborah J. Togut, Ritual Director
at Bnai Israel Congregation in Rockville, MD. We had the privilege of editing
a review she contributed to the 2007 Journal, on Hazzan Hans Cohns 2005
memoir, Risen from the Ashes. In re-reading her description of the author, one
is struck by how aptly it applies to Deborah as well, particularly to her personal
courage and professional integrity in the face of a long and debilitating illness:
a survivor and optimist by nature,... he harbors no resentment against God
or man, serving his community with grace and compassion.
Deborah thought that her own storyin comparison with Hans Cohns life
had been a privileged one. Yet, to cite the final words of her Journal review,
Deborahs actions were resourceful and persevering, [her] commitment to
survival unwavering and [her] love for her cantorial craft, passionate and
inventive... [she] was a credit to [her] profession. May her memory be an
eternal blessing to all who walked with her even a little way along the path of
her all-too-brief life.
JAL
In assessing the music of the Eastern European Jews one can say that the
features distinguishing sacred from secular song are not always well defined.
For example, Eastern European Jews have an abundance of zmiros (table
songs), Hasidic and liturgical tunes which may properly be assigned to both
categories. One can say, too, that it is equally difficult to ascribe primordial
status to either one or the other category or to derive ultimate conclusions
concerning melodic influence and cross-fertilization. Therefore, in addressing
myself to this distinction I subscribe to the popular view that liturgical music
is sung mainly in the synagogue (in Hebrew) while folksongs, as a rule, are
sung at social gatherings (primarily in Yiddish).
The study of Eastern European Jewish music is not strictly analogous to the
study of other music cultures. Its dissimilarity becomes most apparent when
examined in the context of religious history. When early Christianity with its
evolving liturgy reached Europe it encountered a variety of local folk traditions. Conversely, when Yiddish folk song began to flourish in Central Europe
and later in Eastern Europe, Jewish liturgical music was already established in
those locales. Abraham Zvi Idelsohn (1932b) drew our attention to a limited
influence of the synagogue upon Yiddish folksongs. Of the 758 songs included,
only thirty-two are singeled out as being based on synagogue motifs.
The aim of my study is to point out the existence of an infinitely larger and
more intimate melodic relationship between the songs of the synagogue and
Yiddish folk songs. Even without thorough analysis of the entire folksong
1 Because the material here is essentially of Eastern European Jewish origin I
have transliterated Hebrew words according to Ashkenazic pronunciation utilizing a
system adopted by the Library of Congress. For Yiddish orthography and transliteration I have followed a standardized system devised by the Yiddish Scientific Institute
(YIVO), New York. Translations from Hebrew are reprinted with permission from the
Daily Prayer Book ( 1947, 1977) and the High Holiday Prayer Book ( 1951) by Philip
Birnbaum. Translations marked A.W. are by friend and colleague, Albert Weisser; all
other translations are my own.
Zo - kef
ko - ton
Sof po - suk
Ya - a - mod
ti
Dia - tshe - go
Reb
Dia - tshe - go
ti
Ye - hu -
nye
nye
de
Ya
nye
pu - dzesh? Bo
Ya - nye
um - yesh? Bo
u - tsil? Bo - on
pu -
de
um - yem.
u - tshil.
sam -
krenk um - yal.
Arise to the Torah, Reb Yehudah! / I will not go. / And why will you not go? / Because I
dont know how/ / And why do you not know how? / My father never taught me. / And
why did he not teach you? / He was as ignorant as I. / 3
Example 1b. Cahan 1912: II, 149-150, No. 73; Cahan 1957: 426, No. 505; Idelsohn
1932b: 10, No. 23.
Motifs from the Ashkenazic High Holiday Torah cantillation (Ex. 2a.) appear in a charming song (Ex. 2b.) concerning Rabbi Meir ben Isaac (11th century), legendary author of the mystical poem Akdomus (Before), written in
Aramaic and chanted on the first day of Shavuos before the Torah reading.
Po - zer
Dar - goh
Es
iz
ge - ven
a Re - be Me - ir kha - zn
Hot
er
ge - volt
zo - gn
hot
er moy - re ge - hat
di
mal - o - khim
zo - ln im nisht me - ka - ne zayn
Hot er ge- zogt dem loyb oyf Tar-gum lo - shn Vaylmal - o- khim far- shtey- n nisht keyn Tar- gum lo - shn
un
er zikh:
v - ya - dir
v - e
matz.
There once lived a precentor, Rabbi Meir, who was inspired to chant a song of praise to
God, but he feared that the angels would envy him. So he chanted his song in Aramaic,
a language that angels do not understand, and fixed his signature thusly: Rabbi Meir,
son of Rabbi Isaac, may he grow in Torah and in good deeds / and be strong and of
good courage4 (A.W.)
Example 2b. Shtern: 1948: 58.
The fall of Tsar Nicholas I (1796-1855; Ex. 3a.) finds appropriate expression
in cantillation motifs from the Book of Lamentations (Ex. 3b.).
troy - rig
ya
zind
Ka
tso
res
bo - zhe Tzar
oyf
ay - e - re
Ki - nos
hint.
There is lamentation in St. Petersburg / There is mourning in Moscow / Sadly they sing,
God save the Tsar. / You peasants sing lamentations for your sins, / That dog, the Tsar,
is bloodied. /
Example 3a. Idelsohn 1932b: 11, No. 31.
4
The final section is derived from acrostic lines in the poems latter section.
See Birnbaum Daily Prayer Book (1949: 647-654).
Ma - pakh Pash- to
Mer - kho
tip - kho
sof po - suk
MiSinai tunes
The traditional Ashkenazic tune for chanting the aforementioned Akdomus
poem (Ex. 4a.) is undisguised in the following two examples, the first, a
humorous alphabet song.
Ak - do - mus
av - lo
lin
Vsho - ro - us
mil
har - mon
ur
sho - kel - no
shu
so.
shu
so.
Before reciting the Ten Commandments, / I first ask permission and approval /
Example 4a. Idelsohn 1925: 156.
lef
in
Beys,
di
kes
est
der
no
beyn - de - lakh
gid
o - re - man
A) The rich man eats turkey, / B) the poor man nibbles on little bones / (A.W.)
Example
4b. Kipnis 1925: 119, No. 55.
1
Ven
un
fun
fun
a - le
le
tay - khn
boy - mer
volt
volt
ge - vo - r n eyn
ge
taykh
vo - r n eyn
boym
If all rivers were to become one river / And all trees were to become one tree /
(A.W.)
Example 4c. Idelsohn 1932a: 5, No.12.
10
3
3
D - in - dar - no
ha
bo
u - d ish - ta - ba
u - sh - vu - o - so
no
l - to
le - nu
lo
sh - vu
no
vo
os
wherewith we have vowed, sworn / may it come to us for good / and our
oaths shall not be oaths / (A.W.)
Example 5a. Idelsohn 1932a: 52-53, No. 172.
D - in - dar - no
ya te - bye
i - bo me - nye
ho - ril - ku tre - ba
a-
be - lo - ho
per - ti - cha
na - pras - nik
Do please open the door. / Ive no more whiskey / Not a drop, no more. / And for the
holy day I promise, in lieu, / A beautiful white rooster / To bring to you. /
Example 5b. Kipnis 1925: 156-157, No. 73.
The autumn prayer for rain Geshem6 (Ex. 6a.), signaling as it does the arrival of cold weather in Eastern Europe, aptly serves for the lament of one
ill-prepared for the approaching winters rigors. Its motifs are also found in
a folk song (Ex. 6b.).
5
Kol Nidre, an Aramaic formula for the annulment of inadvertent vows to God,
chanted to open the Yom Kippur Eve service, is considered a treasure-trove of MiSinai Tunes; for further information see A.Z. Idelsohn (1931-32: 493-509), Johanna L.
Spector (1950: 3-4), Max Wohlberg (1971: 99-112), and Eric Werner (1976: 35-38).
6
Chanted on the eighth day of Sukkos (Festival of Booths) when normal
rainfall begins in the Near East; see P. Birnbaum (1949: 697-702).
11
A -
to - gi - bor
A - do -
to
l - o - lom,
noi,
rav
m kha - ye
me - sim
l -ho shi
Lord, You are mighty forever; You revive the dead; Your powers to save are immense
Example 6a. Oral tradition (Eastern Europe).
1
Af
b-ri
zu - mer geyt a - vek
e - sn
di
kuh
un kayn gelt
iz
der
ni - to
Oh Angel of Rain, / There is no fodder for the cow, / The summer has passed, / Winter
will soon be upon us, / And of moneythere is none. /
Example 6b. Cahan 1912: II, 269-270, No. 14; Cahan 1957: 432-433, No. 511;
Idelsohn 1932b: 6, No. 14; Beregovsky-Fefer 1938: 12.
7
The text of Eli Tsiyon is by the great Spanish Jewish poet, philosopher and
physician Judah Halevi of the late-11th and early-12th centuries. Tishah BAv (Fast of
the Ninth of Av) commemorates the destruction of both Temples and other historic
national calamities. On the Eli Tsiyon tune, see A.Z. Idelsohn (1929: 171) and Eric
Werner (1976: 93-95).
12
Tsvelf a zey - ger bay der nakht ven a - le ment - shn shlo - fn
12
fents - te - rl
bet
dort
iz
zi - tsn
o - fen
tsvey
al - te
layt
un
hent.
Twelve oclock midnightall are asleep, / All is shut tight. / Somewhere a small window is open, / A
dim fire burns. / An invalid lies on a bed, / As two old people sit by, / And ring their hands / (A.W.)
Example 7a. Cahan 1912: I, 234-235; Cahan 1957: 30-31, No. 16.
1
E - li
tzi - yon
vkhiv - su - lo
vo - re
ho
kmo - i - sho
btsi - re
ho.
kha - gu - ras
sak
al
ba - al
nu - re
ho.
Prayer modes
The Lern shtayger (Study mode) in major, as it appears in the traditional
Haggadah chant Mah Nishtanah,8 is well known. In addition, the Study mode
in minor appears frequently in the Jewish liturgy as witnessed in the following
examples (Exs. 8a, 8b and 8c).9
Sho - khen
ad
mo - rom
v - ko -
dosh
sh - mo
13
A - do - noy oz l - a - mo yi - ten
The Lord will give strength to His people, / The Lord will bless His people with peace /
Example 8b. Oral tradition (Eastern Europe).
Ha -
yom
lo
mer
Now observe how these motifs are applied to a naively idyllic folksong
(Ex. 9.).
1
Un - ter
kleyn
re - dn
fun
bey - me - le
zi - tsn
mey - de - le
keyn zakh
ying - lekh
kim - mert
tsvey
zey
zey
Under a little tree, / Sit two young men. / They talk of a young maid. / Nothing else
concerns them / (A.W.).
Example 9. Kipnis 1925: 100, No. 46; Idelsohn 1932b: 39, No. 144; Beregovski-Fefer
1938: 169.
Motifs of this mode, which would normally accompany the study of the
Talmudic disputations of Abbaye and Rava and the arguments of Rav and
Shmuel,10 also served such liturgical texts as Omar rabi elozor, Ba-meh
madlikin and Eilu dvorim (Ex. 10a.). They were also deemed suitable for
describing the tribulations of a maiden seeking a proper marriage partner
(Ex. 10b.).
10 Abbaye (c. 278-338 C.E.) was head of the academy in Pumbedita. He and his
colleague Rava (Abba bar Yosef bar Homa, c. 299-352) engaged in halakhic discussions
which are of major importance in the Babylonian Talmud. The same may be said of Rav
(Abba Arikha, c. 175-247), founder of the academy in Sura, and Shmuel (c. 180-250),
head of the academy in Nehardea.
14
v - ho - r - a - yon
ha - pe - oh
v - ha - bi - ku - rim
These are the things for which no limit is prescribed: the corner of the field, the first
fruits, the pilgrimage offerings, the practice of kindness; and the study of Torah excels
them all.
Example 10a. Oral tradition (Eastern Europe).
Vos- zhe vilst du, vos - zhe vilst du a shnay - der far
a man,
shnay - der far
zitz ikh oy - fn
a man
shteyn
What will you have, what will you have? / A tailor for a husband? / I will not have a
tailor for a husband. / I am not a tailors daughter. / All young girls are easily married. /
Only I remain alone / (A.W.)
Example 10b. Cahan 1957: 252-254, No. 268.
15
12
faykht
in mayn hartz - n
ge - vo - rn
klyoz - nit bla - ser kloyz - nik
mit
geyt
a - ri - ber
te - rets
dos
lib - er
Dayn
far - lo
oyg
iz
fn
zog vos hot mit dir
lib - er
Dayn
ge - tro - fn.
Why do you lament so at your Talmudic studies / Oh pale and dear theological student?
/ Your tragic song rends my heart. / There is a reason for your moist eye. / Tell me pale
and dear theological student, / What has befallen you? / (A.W.)
Example 11a. Idelsohn 1932b: 139, No. 489.
hon
peh
La - m - ya -
ha - lim lokh
sim -
ho
l - ar - tze - kho
4
3
3
v - so - son l - i - re - kho
utz - mi -
has ke - ren l - do - vid av - de
5
U - v khen ten ko - vod A - do - noi l a - me - kho t hi - lo li - re - e - kho v sik - vo l dor she - kho u - fis
kho
Now, oh Lord, give honor to Your people, glory to those who revere You, hope to those who seek You,
free speech to those who yearn for You, joy to Your land and gladness to Your city, rising strength to
David Your servant , a shining light to the son of Jesse, Your chosen one, speedily in our days.
Example 11b. Oral tradition (Eastern Europe).
12
16
With only a slight adjustment, the following folksong (Ex. 12a.) shares its
musical setting with a chant heard customarily during the Sabbath Morning
service (Ex. 12b.).
1
E - li - yo - hu ha - no - vi
on
ge - ton.
nemt
makht
bro - khe
zitst oy - bn on
dem
in
bro - khe
i - bern gants
ter hant
un
en
land.
Elijah the Prophet / Sits at the head of the table, / Bedecked in gold and silver. / With his
right hand he raises a goblet / And blesses the whole land. / (A.W.)
Example 12a. Idelsohn 1932b: 39, No. 146.
3 3
3
B - fi y sho - rim tis - ha - lol
uv - div - re tza - di - kim tis - bo-rakh
u vil - shon ha
-si3
uv - ke - rev k - do
shim
tis
- ka - dosh
By the mouth of the upright You are praised; / By the words of the righteous You are
blessed; / By the tongue of the faithful You are extolled; / And among the holy You are
sanctified. /
Example 12b. Oral tradition (Eastern Europe).
17
Tsu
ken
L - dor
fre - gn
ne - tzakh
a
-
darf
shiv
s - ken
pi - nu
bay
Gott
ntzo- - khim
oyf
lo
geyn
in
na
zoy
zayn
ha - kho,
es
E
der
velt
yo - mush
muz
lo
dokh
gor
l - o -
hi - ml
a - rayn
gid
kho
god - le
un
ul -
tsi
darf
k-du-shos - kho
a - royf
vo - dor
men
a
-
zayn,
a - zoy
nak - dish
zoy
he -
an - dersh
lom
Es
v -
zayn
nu,
mi-
nit
zayn.
vo - ed.
Can one ascend unto heaven and ask God, / Do things have to be as they are? / Yes,
things need to be as they are, / They must be as they are. / In the whole wide world / It
cannot be otherwise. / (A.W.)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Through all generations we will declare Your greatness; to all eternity we will proclaim
Your holiness; Your praise, our God, shall not depart from our mouth
Example 13. Idelsohn 1932b: 164, No. 571; Cahan 1957: 411, No. 498.
Lullabies
Of numerous Eastern European Jewish lullabies I have selected two in an attempt to indicate their obvious affinity with melodies of the synagogue. Once
again the two sets of texts are reproduced concurrently in the first example
(Exs. 14a.-14b.-and-14c.).
18
Ay le lyu le shlof
mayn li - bes kind
makh - zhe tsu di
Ti - kan - to shab - bos ro - tzi - so kor - b- no - se - ho tzi - vi - so pe - ru
12
un shtey oyf
ge - zint
si - du - re n - so - khe - ho
makh
man-ge - ho
o - fn
kho - lu
ey - ge - lekh
she - ho im
3
zey tsu
lo - lom
un
ko -
zol khay -
stu
yim
makh zey
vod
yin -
shlo - fn.
zo - khu.
Ai leh lyu leh / Sleep my dearest child, / Close your little eyes / And awaken in perfect
health. / Close and open your eyes / In perfect health. / (A.W.)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You have instituted the Sabbath and favorably accepted its offerings. You have
prescribed its special duties and the order of its libations. Those who observe it with joy
will forever possess glory. Those who enjoy its happiness merit eternal life.
Example 14a. Idelsohn 1932b: 149, No. 521.
Dos
kind
ligt
in
vig - e - le
mit
oys - ge - veyn - te
ma
me
di
fis
ni - to
oys - ge - tsoy - gn
ni - to
ni - to
oi - gn
di
ni - to
kayn ne - kho
kayn
me.
The child lies in its crib / Its eyes have no more tears. / The mother, with outstretched
feet / lies prostrate on the ground. / No mother / No solace . / (A.W.)
Example 14b. Kipnis 1910: 123-124, No. 54; Idelsohn 1932b: 134, No. 473;
Beregovsky-Fefer 1938: 290-291.
19
3 3 3
Va - ti - ten
lo - nu, A - do - noi
kol a - vo - no - se - nu
mik - ro
b - a - ha - vo
E - lo - he - nu,
3
ko - desh
You, Lord our God, have graciously given us this Day of Atonement wherein all our
iniquities are to be pardoned and forgiven, a holy festival in remembrance of the exodus
from Egypt.
Example 14c. Oral tradition (Eastern Europe).
The sheltered child, now in the Tsars army, recalls with nostalgia the
comforts of home. He intones the basic motifs he probably heard from an
old precentor during the Yom Kippur Morning service (Ex. 15.).
Di
mam - me tmikh ge
L - vo - khen
l - vo
4
pu - ter
din
ho vos
de - vet
un
fon - iet mir ge - ge - bn a
l - go - leh a - mu - kos
oyf
b -
milkh
yom
biks
ba
far
-
a
-
un
oyf
mu - ter.
din.
My mother brought me up on milk and butter but the Russian army suppliied me with
a gun to be my mother. (A.W.)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Who tests the heart on the Day of Judgement and brings to light profound things in
judgement
Example 15. Cahan 1938: 340.
20
Love songs
Among prayer modes in the Eastern European synagogues is one often referred to as Ukranian-Dorian (whose scalar outline is: G-A-Bb-C#-D-E-F).
It is applied to such texts as Mi shebeirakh, ov horahamim, Kevakoras and
Havein yakir li (He Who Blessed, Father of Mercy, As A Shepherd, and
My Precious Son). Both the reluctant soldier drafted into the Tsars army
and the love-struck maiden used this mode, recalled from synagogue chants,
to express their sentiments (Exs 16a.-16b.).
1
Dos fer - tsen - te yor
Ha - ven
ya
iz
ya
on - ge - ku kir
li ef - ra -
nu - men oy vey
shu - im ki mi
men
nu
oy oy oy oy oy oy
ra
yim,
-
men
yim
mikh ge - nu
ez - k - re
oy
ef
mikh ge sha
-
on - ge - ku - men
kir
li
12
iz
-
oy
od
oy oy oy oy
de
dab - ri
oy
oy
in
im
za
in
zo
oy
bo
oy
oy
Dos
Ha -
oy
oy
When I turned fourteen, oy, oy, oy / I was taken into the reserves, / oy, oy, oy /
(A.W.)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
21
13
kash - tshik
shiv - to,
mir far
vsif
-
oy iz
ken
zay - ne
kod
dos a
a
bokh - e - rl
ta - a - vir v - sis - por
beyn - de - lakh
fesh
ne
-
sheyns
v
-
un a
sim
-
kets - e - le
kol
fayns
ne
du mayns.
khai.
My mother sent me to buy a box. / Thereupon the sales clerk, a young lad, / Fell in love
with me. / Oh what a fine, handsome lad is he. / Dear to me is his every little bone / Oh
my little kitten. (A.W.)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As a shepherd seeks out his flock, making each sheep pass under his rod, so do You
make all living souls pass before You.
Example 16b. Idelsohn 1932b: 170, no. 594; Kipnis 1918: 38-39, No. 18.
The melodic pattern of the following love song (Ex. 17a.) has with negligible
alterations a likely source, or counterpart, in the Tfillas Shaharis (Weekday
Morning Service), as heard in many a Hasidic shtibl (prayer and study hall;
Ex. 17b.).
1
Trayb
di
ve
ln shnel - er
taykh
ster gi
- kher kum un
gris
ir
toy
zend mol
Drive these waves, oh swift river / Past mountain and valley, / Speedily come to my
beloved / And greet her a thousand times. / (A.W.)
Example 17a. Idelsohn 1932b: 68, no. 253.
22
o - shi - ro - la - do - noi
ki go - mal o - loi
ki go - mal o - loi
I have trusted in Your kindness; may my heart rejoice in Your salvation; I will sing to the
Lord, because he has treated me kindly.
Example 17b. Oral tradition (Eastern Europe).
The bulk of Yiddish folksongs are in a synagogue mode commonly designated as Mogein Ovos (Our Forebears Shield). In its Ashkenazic Eastern
European form its scalar outline can be charted as D-E-F-G-A-Bb-C-D, a
mode that resembles natural minor. A characteristic of its motivic patterns
is its frequent turns to the relative major and prompt return to its original
minor. The following folksong (Ex. 18.), whichin free rhythmcould easily
serve as a setting for the Sabbath and Festival Morning prayer Eil hahodoos
(God Crowned with Adoration), exemplifies this predilection.
13
harts
un
ge - ze - sn
po - nim
un
tsu
hal - tn
dayn
le - bn
a - nand
tsu
hant.
Paper is white and ink is black, / Sweet life, it is for you that my heart yearns, / I could
sit for three days / And constantly kiss your lovely face, / And hold your hand. / (A.W.)
Example 18. Cahan 1912: I, 78-79, No. 47; Cahan 1957: 109-110, No.100;
Beregovsky-Fefer 1938: 148.
While, admittedly, numerous Yiddish folksongs can be traced to non-Jewish
sources, a great many exhibit structural peculiarities that are embedded
in the fabric of synagogue music. To cite an example, one of the most well
23
known Eastern European zmiros is the traditional tune for Kol mkadeish
shvii (Ex. 19a.).
1
Kol
kol
m - ka - desh
ko
s - kho - ro
ka
har - be - m - od
al
ma - kha - ne
hu
- ro
ui
lo
me - kha - l - lo
[5]
[3]
dos
al
sh - vi - i
ish
pi
[5]
[3]
fo - o - lo
[4]
al
dig - lo
v - ish
[4]
[1]
Whoever duly observes the Sabbath, / Whoever keeps the Sabbath unprofaned, / Shall
be greatly rewarded for his deed, / Each in his own camp, each in his own house. /
Example 19a. Oral tradition (Eastern Europe).
mer-kho
tip
[5]
[3]
kho
sof
[4]
[1]
po - suk
24
mu - tik
kref - tig
13
mu - tik
kref - tig
zols - tu
has
Ay - le
lyu
zols - tu
[5]
a - tsind
tsay - gn
tsu
[3]
lyu
yetst
shi
[4]
on
[1]
tsu
dem
vil - dn
ti - ran
I, your mother, rock you to sleep, / Close your little eyes. / Courage and strength I wish
you now / Ai le lyu lyu shi, / For from here on, my child, / You must strive to show /
Hatred and contempt for the wild tyrant. / (A.W.)
Example 19c. Idelsohn 1932b: 138, No. 487.
13
mi - tn he - ln tog
klep mit di
ku - la - kes
shli - se - le ge - ri - sn
hot er
oys - ge - khapt
tay - er Yan -
ke - le
tay - er yan
ke - le
tay - er yan
tay - er yan
in
oy
ke - le
ke - le.
Whosoever knew my Yankele, that particularly dear Yankele, / One day he picked a
lock, my dear Yankele, / Oh whosoever caught him, beat him up, dear Yankele, / They
beat him with their fists, oh dear Yankele. / (A.W.)
Example 20a. Idelsohn 1932: 168, No. 586.
25
A popular love song finds natural affinity with Ahavoh Rabboh motifs
frequently heard in various prayers of the Sabbath Amidah (Ex. 20b.).
Tif
in vel - de - le shteyt a bey - me - le
Ki she - shes yo - mim o - so A - do - noi
un
bay mir
u - va - yom
en.
Deep in a little forest, / Stands a little tree, / Its branches are blooming / And in me,
poor little tailor / Something tugs at my heart. / (A.W.)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, and on the seventh day He
ceased from work and rested.
Example 20b. Cahan 1912: I, 22, No. 13; Cahan 1957: 75-76, No/61; Idelsohn
1932b: 153, no. 536; Beregovski-Fefer 1938: 142.
The tragic ballad of Brayndele (Ex. 20c.) finds its appropriate vehicle in
the same musical and liturgical source (Ex. 20c.).
A misfortune has befallen Brayndele / Alas, there is pain for her mother now. / In all the
streets they say / Brayndele has given birth to a child. / (A.W.)
tsind
men redt shoyn in a - le
ga - sn
oy
vey
iz
ir
ma - men a -
az Brayn - de- le
hot shoyn a
Example 20c. Cahan 1912: I, 204-205, No. 7; Cahan 1957: 60, No. 44.
26
kind
V - se - khe - ze - no
yon
ha
b - ra - kha - mim.
3
ma
- kha - zir
ne - nu
sh - khi - no
b - shuv - kho
Bo - rukh
3
so
to
l - tsi -
A - do
noi,
tzi -
yon.
May our eyes behold Your return in mercy to Zion. Blessed are You, O Lord, Who
restores Your divine presence to Zion.
Example 20d. Oral tradition (Eastern Europe).
A motif (Ex. 21a.), reminiscent of the High Holiday Musaf Kaddish,13 appears in the following song of unrequited love (Ex. 21b.).
Yis - ga - dal
vi - yis - ka - dash
sh -
me
ra - bo
rn
lib - ster
a - zoy vi an ay - ze - ner
iz
brik
un
glik
Our love was as strong as an iron bridge, and now my love, nothing remains of our
happiness. (A.W.)
Example 21b. Idelsohn 1932b: 152, No. 530; Beregovski-Fefer 1938: 188.
13 Musaf (Additional), service following the Torah reading on Sabbaths and
holy days. Kaddish (Sanctification), doxology almost entirely in Aramaic and recited
with congregational responses, it has five different liturgical forms. For the variety of
its traditional musical settings in the synagogue see Abraham Baer (1930: passim) and
Aron Friedmann (1901: passim).
27
Wedding songs
Until the early part of the 20th century the services of a Badkhn (or Marshelik)
were considered indispensable at a proper Eastern European Jewish wedding.14
His various tasks were not merely to entertain the guests with witticisms and
humorously sentimental semi-improvised rhymes, but also to impress upon
the bride the religious significance of marriage, the sanctity of a Jewish home
and the marital obligations of a pious Jewish wife. At the badekns (veiling of
the bride before the wedding rite) one could hear him intone the following
sermon in song (Ex. 22a.).
1
Du
Bald
du
vet men di khu - pe
na - ye velt
veys
ves - tu
shte - ln
der - zen
e - pes
nit
tsi
bald
bist
vet
di
kha - se - ne
zayn
oy
zogt men az
3
zi
You have pleased the bridegroom, / For you are beautiful and fine. / Soon the wedding
canopy will be raised, / Soon the wedding will take place. / You will see a new world
/ One hears that it is very beautiful. / Yet, its not certain whether you ought to be
happy. / So weep dear bride, oh weep. / (A.W.)
Example 22a. Idelsohn 1932b: 69, No. 258; Beregovski-Fefer 1938: 254.
Humming this simple chant, I recalled an old baal tfillah (literally, master
of prayer, frequently denoting an amateur or lay precentor in contrast to the
more artistic professional hazzan) who prefaced the chanting of the Yom
Kippur Eve prayer Kol Nidre in the following manner (Ex. 22b.).15
14 Badkhn (Hebrew Badhan, Yiddish: merrymaker ); Marshelik (Yiddish: jester).
For further selected literature see S. Weissenburg (1905: 59-74), Jacob Zismor (1923),
Ezekiel Lifschutz (1952: 40-43) and Barbara Kirschenblatt-Gimblett (1974).
15 This chant, in fact, was quite well known in both Eastern and Central European
Jewish communities. The distinguished American Jewish composer Hugo Weisgall
relates that his father, Hazzan Abba Yosef Weisgal, habitually chanted the Kol Nidre
introduction Biyshivoh in this manner.
28
3
Bi - y shi - vo shel ma - lo
u - vi - y - shi - vo shel ma - to
v al da - as ha - ko - hol
al da - as ha - mo - kom
nu ma - ti - rin
By authority of the heavenly court / And by authority of the earthly court / With the
consent of the Omnipresent One / and with the consent of this congregation / We
declare it lawful to pray with sinners. /
Example 22b. Oral tradition (Eastern Europe).
Another Badkhn song addressed to the bride before the wedding proper
occurs during the bazetsns ceremonial (traditional seating of the bride on a
chair in her home, during which her hair is braided prior to being cut; Ex.
22c.). It is clearly based on a concluding motif from the Sabbath morning
service (Ex. 22d.).
1
Shey - ne
li - be
ma - zl
zol
dir
ka - le
her
ikh
shay - nen
vi
di
zog
dir
for
zun
iz
dayn
klor
Beautiful, lovely bride, / Hear now I command you. / May your good fortune / Shine as
clearly as the sun. / (A.W.)
Example 22c. Cahan 1912: II, 53, No. 37; Idelsohn 1932b: 156, No. 547; Cahan
1957: 271-272, No. 301.
3
Bo - rukh
a - to A - do - noi,
ha - tov
shim - kho
ul - kho no - e
l- ho - dos.
Blessed are You, O Lord, Beneficent One, to Whom it is fitting to give thanks.
Example 22d. Oral tradition (Eastern Europe).
29
Drinking song
The following humorous drinking song (the opening of a longer childrens
rhyming song; Ex. 23a.) reveals pentatonic-like motifs of the Weekday Amidah (Ex. 23b.).
1
Ei - le
tol - dos
gle - ze - le
vayn
noy - ekh
iz der
fun
i - ker
bran - fn
fun
krigt men
bron - fn
vert men
koy - ekh
shi - ker.
These are Noahs generations, / There is a power in strong libations. / Without measure
pour each glass, / Sing heigh-ho, in vino veritas. / (A.W.)
Example 23a. Cahan 1912: II, 153-154, No. 78; Idelsohn 1932b: 12, No. 32,
Variant 3; Cahan 1957: 355-356, No. 448.
1
Slakh lo - nu
o - vi - nu ki kho - to - nu
3
3
Bo -rukh a - to A - do - noi,
3
3
Forgive us, our Father, for we have sinned; / Pardon us, our King, for we have
transgressed, / For You do pardon and forgive. / Blessed are You, O Lord, / Who are
gracious and ever forgiving. /
Example 23b. Oral tradition (Eastern Europe).
Conclusion
To sum up: Jewish liturgical music extended beyond the walls of the synagogue
and entered the homes, workshops and social gatherings of young and old,
male and female. As literary proof of this contention let me cite brief passages
from the so-called founding fathers of Yiddish literature: Mendele MoykherSforim (Sh. Y. Abramovitsh, 1852-1915); Isaac Leib Peretz (1836-1917); and
Sholem Aleichem (Sholom Rabinovitsh, 1859-1916).
30
In his novella Dos kleine mentshele (The Little Man; 1864) Mendele
describes the unbridled excitement that prevailed whenever a guest khazn
arrived for the Sabbath (Mendele 1928: ii).
The press of the crowd was frightful. People jostled and stepped on each
other as I squeezed in toward the khazn because like all Jews I love to
sing Shabbos afternoon everyone was busy. This one screamed, others
screeched. One rumbled like a bass, a second attempted to imitate a
falsetto, while a third grimaced and forced his vocal chords, and a fourth
one tried to sound like a flute. Then the whole gang ran up to the womens
gallery where we attempted to reconstruct the tune to which the khazn
sang Mi Shebeirakh.
And the tailor told her that he knew by heart practically all khazonishe
compositions, even those of great cantors who officiated at services where
admission was charged. How? He managed to sneak in through the window
in order to hear the music.
Until her fifteenth-sixteenth year Rokhele sang like a free little bird
whether a khazonishe Nakdishkho or Kvakoras, a Hasidic niggun or all
sorts of band music, Rokhele sang everything in her lovely voice that was
a delight to hear.
The creators of Yiddish folk songs often imitated, borrowed or transformed the melodies of their non-Jewish neighbors. In most cases,
however, especially in those songs where a mood of sadness, loneliness,
pain and despair prevail, they preferred a melodic style more intimately
related to their own folk spirit. Such a melodic repertoire was readily available in the synagogue. The musical material they adopted (or
adapted) was not limited to stray motifs but substantially incorporated
complete tunes from the liturgical repertoire.
31
References Cited
Avenary, Hanoch
1971
Baer, Abraham
1930
1938
Birnbaum, Philip
1949
Ha-Siddur Ha-Shalem (Daily Prayer Book) New York: Hebrew Publishing Company.
1950
Cahan, Yehude-Leyb,
1912-20 Yidishe Folkslider mit Melodyen, oysdem Folksmoyl, two volumes, New
York-Warsaw: Di internatsyonale bibliotek Farlag Co.
1938
1957
Yidishe folkslider mit melodyes, ed., Max Weinreich, New York: Yiddish
Scientific Institute (YIVO).
1951
Freimann, Jakob
1891
Friedmann, Aron
1901
Glantz, Leib
1952
The Musical Basis of Nusah, Proceedings of the Fifth Annual Conference Convention of the Cantors Assembly (Kiamesha Lake, NY);
16-25.
32
1929
1931-32 The Kol Nidre Tune, Hebrew Union College Annual 8-9: 493-
509.
1932a, The Synagogue Song of the East European Jews, Leipzig: Friedrich Hofmeister (Vol. VIII of the Thesaurus of Oriental-Hebrew Melodies).
1932b, The Folk Song of the East European Jews, Leipzig: Friedrich Hofmeister
(Vol. IX of the Thesaurus of Oriental-Hebrew Melodies).
1933,
1951
The Jewish Song Book (Sefer Shirat Yisrael), Third edition, enlarged and
revised by Baruch J. Cohon, Cincinnati: Publications for Judaism.
Kipnis, Menahem
1918
1925
Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, Barbara
1974
Lehman, Shmuel
1921,
1928
Lifschutz, Ezekiel
1952
Merry Makers and Jesters among Jews: Materials for a Lexicon, Yivo
Annual for Jewish Social Science (New York) 7: 43-48 (originally published as Badkhonim un Leytsim bay Yidn, Arkhiv far der Geshikhte
fun yidishn Teater un Drama, Vilna: 1930, 1: 38-74).
1928
Peretz, Y. L.
1947
Rubin, Ruth
1973,
33
Sholem Aleichem
1925
Collected Works, Vols. XXI-XXII, New York: Sholem Aleichem Folksfond Oysgabe.
Shtern, Yekhiel
1948
Spector, Johanna L.
1950
The Kol Nidreat least 1200 years Old, Jewish Music Notes, JWB
Circle (New York, October): 3-4.
Weissenberg, S.
1905
Werner, Eric
1976
A Voice Still Heard: The Sacred Songs of the Ashkenazic Jews, University
Park and London: The Pennsylvania State University Press.
Wohlberg, Max
1953
1971
The Music of the Yom Kippur Liturgy, Philip Goodman, ed., The
Yom Kippur Anthology, Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society
of America, pp. 99-112.
1956
Zismor, Jacob
1923
Hazzan Max Wohlberg (1907-1996) helped found the Cantors Assembly of America
and the Jewish Theological Seminarys Cantors Institute. He spent a lifetime
researching and collecting synagogue melodies and was a beloved teacher of nusah to
almost two generations of cantorial students until his death. He was a prolific composer
of recitatives and settings for sections of the liturgy, as well as the author of numerous
articles and a regular columnPirkei Hazzanut for the Cantors Voice Newsletter
from 1951 to 1963. This article first appeared in Musica Judaica 2, 1, 1977-78, and
is reprinted here with the Editors kind permission.
34
Introduction
Joseph Moshe Rumshinsky (1881-1956) composed more than a hundred
operettas for the Yiddish theatre,1 each with a dozen or more dramaturgically
relevant pop songsnot to mention overtures and interludes.
As a youngster in Lithuania, his singing was already noticed by a series
of local cantors to whom he was apprenticed, followed by a brief engagement
with the troupe of famed Yiddish actress Esther Rokhl Kaminski. He received
formal instruction in piano and theory from a private academy in Vilna, and
later studied conducting at the Warsaw Conservatory.
At 18 he founded the Hazomir (Nightingales) of Lodz, the worlds first
Jewish choral society. Facing conscription into the Russian army, he opted to
leave Poland and settle in London. There he became convinced that his future
as a composer lay with the Yiddish theatre, and that the Theatres future lay in
America. He arrived in New York City, then world center of Jewish culture,
in 1904.
By the mid-teens of the 20th century he was generally acknowledged
as the leading composer for the Yiddish stage. The period stretching from
just before the First World War to the mid-1920s marked the creative high
point of Rumshinskys career. By then, however, the Yiddish theatre faced
a serious crisis. A new generation of theatergoers, largely composed of the
native-born children of immigrants, demanded an entertainment reflecting
their own ideals and aspirations. Rumshinsky responded by entering into
an artistic collaboration with the American-born comedienne Molly Picon.
Spotlighting Picons farcical, new world persona, a subsequent string of
musical comedies set the tone for the long final phase of Yiddish-American
music theatre, during which Rumshinsky maintained a steady rate of production.
During his lifetime Rumshinsky was hailed as the creator of the modern Yiddish operetta, and praised both for his musical artistry, which was
likened to that of prominent mainstream composers Jerome Kern and Victor
Herbert, and for his decisive role in creating a Yiddish light opera equal to the
1
Macy Nulman, Concise Encyclopedia of Jewish Music (New York: McGrawHill), 1975: 210.
35
best products of the Euopean and American schools. Significantly, from the
standpoint of the evolution of the Yiddish popular song, he is credited with
being the first to infuse traditional Jewish music with American rhythms.2
The music of five early theatre hits
When Cole Porter wrote a brief, quasi-cantorial quasi-wail into the chorus
of his 1938 show tune My Heart Belongs to Daddy, he took for granted that
the allusionto Jewish music and to American Jewswould not be lost on
the mainstream Broadway crowd. Porter, as an outsider to Yiddish popular
music, seized on its most conspicuous features for his passing comment on
the Jewish manner; his outsiders insight makes an effective starting point
for an overall description of the musical style:
G7
heart be - longs
to Dad - dy
3
3
So I
Within the confines of this passage, Daddy touches upon the three most
salient and stereotypical affects of Yiddish popular music: minor modality;
melodic use of the augmented-second interval; and emulation of liturgical
chant. Of these, minor modality is the most fundamental, as basic to Yiddish
pop as use of the major mode was to contemporary mainstream popular
music. In fact, Alec Wilder, whose large-scale analytic study of American
popular music is a model of its kind, more than once in his commentary
presumes an ethnic cast to a Jewish piece simply because it is in the minor
mode.3 Minor modality was less pointedly ethnic in the Old Country. As
Beregovski4 observed, the Ashkenazic Jews shared minor-mode predilections
2
Zalmen Zylbercweig, Dos Rumshinsky-bukh, 1931: 40.
3
Alec Wilder, American Popular Song: The Great Innovators, 1900-1950 (New
York: Oxford University Press), 1972: 244, 246, 251, etc.
4
Moshe Beregovsky, Old Jewish Folk Music, ed. & tr. Mark Slobin (Philadelphia:
University of Pennsylvania Press), 1982: 294. Implied here is the subtle (even subliminal)
36
with their medieval Rhineland neighbors, and later and eastward, the various
Slavic peoples among whom they settled.
More tellingly an unambiguously Yiddish, however, is Yiddish pops
fondness for the melodic augmented second, an interval that, barring
conscious exoticisms such as Porters three-note motif, was unknown to
American popular music. In his important article The Evolution of a Musical Symbol in Yiddish Culture (1980), Mark Slobin traces the history of
the augmented second from its likely origin in the liturgical modes Ahavah
Rabbah and Mi SheBeirakh to its apotheosis as the Jewish national interval.
Traditional Jewish music of two augmented-second scales: the freygishalso
called frigishbecause of its lowered-second degree suggested the Gregorian Phrygian mode; and the altered Dorian (also called Ukranian-Dorian
or raised-fourth) variety, where the augmented interval appears between
the third and fourth steps of the scale. Ashkenazic cantors have historically
proclaimed the Jewishness of the augmented seconddespite the fact
that, as with minor modality, the feature is clearly characteristic of several
east European music cultures.5 Yet, as Slobin makes plain, provenance and
pedigree are beside the point; the heart of the importance of the augmented
second to Yiddish culture lies in its symbolic content, in the commingling of
melody-type and (at least aspects of ) self-identity.6
Porters lyric to the cited passage of My Heart Belongs to Daddy
supplies the third stereotypic feature of Yiddish pop (also the slipperiest to
isolate and detail): liturgical chant or khazonus. Every major composer for
influence Yiddish theatre music may have had on Tin Pan Alleys Golden Agea
separate study from the overt, acknowledged influences. Composers in both idioms
were close colleagues, geographically (New York City was the creative locus), culturally
(often sharing a common Yiddish-speaking immigrant background) and sometimes
socially (Rumshinsky associated with Gershwin and Berlin, among others).
5
Mark Slobin, The Evolution of a Musical Symbol in Yiddish Culture, Studies
in Jewish Folklore, F. Talmage, ed. (Cambridge, MA: Association for Jewish Studies),
1980, p. 319.
6
The mode has longstanding Semitic connotations at either periphery of the
former Islamic empire, i.e., India as well as Europe; and if, as Eric Werner (A Voice Still
Heard... The Sacred Songs of the Ashkenazic Jews, University Park and London, The
Pennsylvania State University Press, 1976: 56 -58; cited om Slobins Evolution article,
p. 316) suggests, its European presence derived from multiple Asiatic infiltrations. The
Ashkenazic cantorsSemites themselves for whom the mode was an item of culture
borne in exilewere quite justified in claiming primacy over their neigbors, who had
absorbed the style from intermediaries.
37
the Yiddish stage was well-versed in liturgical music, most having served
apprenticeships in the choirs of renowned touring cantors. At that time,
Rumshinsky remarked concerning the days of his own apprenticeship, the
shul (synagogue) and the khazn (cantor) were, for the Jews, the opera, the
operetta and the symphony.7 The composer might have added that for many
Jewish musicians, the synagogue choir served as conservatory as well. Khazonus was emebedded in the personal and collective music-consciousness of
these composers, and the liturgical style, including that of semi-devotional
Hasidic niggunim (textless melodies), inevitably redounded to the secular
Jewish music they were to create. The khazonus idea turns up on occasion
in Yiddish pop as citation or parody, but most often in an allusive manner,
as a suggestion of the liturgical style; hence the present terms khazonus (in
quotes) or the khazonus idea used in reference to this style. Although not
so easily reduced to music tangibles as other components of Yiddish pop, the
liturgical influence may be recognized in repeated-note (parlando or quasirecitative) or melismatic passages, most often over a suspended metric pulse,
and sustained or slowly changing harmonies.
Wilder disliked Porters burlesque of synagogue chant, admitting
that he found the inside humor of this song in poor taste. In his view, the
parodic trope Da-da, dada-da, da-da-da (-ad) was an uncouth reference
to Daddys Jewishness.8 Yet the same echo of the liturgy served the world
of Yiddish pop where, with its parochial and pious referents, khazonus offered no less obvious a clue to yiddishkayt than the symbol-laden augmented
second.
Abraham Goldfaden, the founding father of the Yiddish theatre, had explored the symbology of khazonus and the augmented second while forging a
popular Jewish style in his European Yiddish operettas. Yiddish pop reached
its definite shape, however, only in the New World, where, estranged from
its native sphere, it could be defined by what it was not. The transplanted
Jewish composer, explains Slobin,
... worked in an environment in which the local folk and popular materials
presented a radical disjuncture, both in language and tonal material, with
the Yiddish tradition. Anglo-American song simply does not make use of
the augmented second, and is not predominantly cast in the minor mode,
the favorite tonality of Yiddish and much East European folksong, but
rather stresses the major mode, along with the pentatonic, Dorian, and
7
Translated from Zylbercweig by Mark Slobin, Tenement Songs (Urbana:
University of Illinois Press), 1982: 32.
8 Wilder, American... , 1972: 246.
38
Mixolydian modes of England and Scotland. Thus, using the augmentedsecond melody-types has a new meaning in the New World.9
Entering its American phase, then, the style of Yiddish popular music coalesced around those traits most distinct from the music mainstream.
While its musical components were being assessed and renewed in the
light of turn-of-the-century America, Yiddish pop first became allied with
the formal scheme of the Tin Pan Alley tune; the prevailing pop idiom of the
mainstream. The Alley style, of course, evolved over time, and did not attain its
modern standard aspect until the mid-to-late teens of the 20th century, with
its second generation of composers. In form, however, it has remained stable,
the basic structure being verse/refrain, with the verse serving an essentially
introductory function to the refrains burden of the memorable music and
text. A quintessential formula refrain linked eight-measure phrases (melodically dominated by the initial phrase) to yield an overall AABB, 32-measure
song form.
Rumshinsky arrived on the scene at a time of transition in mainstream
music, and the style he adopted reflects both the early Alley and the later,
more mature pop idiom. To investigate the various factors (traditional as well
as New World) affecting his music, it is best to turn to the songs themselves.
In the following pages, five Rumshinsky hit songs selected from Zybercweig10
will be examined from a musical-analytical point of view.
SONG I
Mamenyu (1910)
E minor
Mamenyu, the Triangle Fire elegy, is cast in a conventional early Yiddish
pop form, with a brief instrumental introduction based on the refrain, and
verse and refrain built on four-measure phrases. Charles Hamm11 would have
considered the piece distinctly outmoded even by contemporary mainstream
standards 40 years ago. The verse carries the burden of the text, and verse and
refrain bear equal melodic interest; Hamm lists both traits as characteristic
of the post-Civil War-to-early Tin Pan Alley period of American song.
9
10
11
360.
39
wen
es
es
seht
sjdi - she
starbt
aus
Volk
wen sis
wie der
inbrecht die
yng
todt
hent
dima - me - niu.
blas
in
mied
klugt
in
weint
es
Mit
Es
ken
ge - wein
brecht
The effect of the ensemble unison is poignant in the orchestral setting, much
more so than the piano version which seems precariously thin-textured. Full
block chords appear at the end of this passage, again suspending the threequarter pulse, and over a tolling minor triad appropriate to the funereal content
40
of the text, the solo melody reaches to an antecedent phrase, the consequent
of which will be the first line of the refrain:
sol men be
ser
wen es wolt
kein
hu - ben spring-en - dig
mhot
a soi
men
kein
zwek
gesh - wind
wert shir - dil
a
dus
is
wen
de
ma - me shtarbt a
nit aus ge - strekt die hend
a
wei a ma-me klugt dort
in
der
wek
zind
still
rit.
shrek
kind
fil
Orchestral conception can be considered an important non-ethnic constituent of Rumshinskys songs, particulalrly those originating in the large-scale
operettas. In this regard, Rumshinsky remained steadfastly in the European
tradition. Fellow emigr operetta composer Victor Herbert, for example,
always wrote with the orchestra in mind; Rumshinskys Broadway contemporaries never scored their own shows.12
Suspension of pulse, reiterative harmony, and unison melodiesqualities
noted in the passage cited aboveare baldly evidenced by virtue of their orchestral origin. Yet those same qualities are intrinsic features of Yiddish pop
in their own right: orientalisms, such as the ornamental shake (Examples
3 and 4) that plainly controvert mainstream ideals (which dictate that the
accompaniment remain on-beat, the harmony unambiguous, and the proscription of melody/accompaniment unisons). Rumshinsky trades on these
qualities in Mamenyu; he also makes conspicuous use of the seemingly
endless augmented second, playing on both its symbolic and functional aspects. In what will become a favorite device of the composers, the augmented
second is introduced in a symbolic context, stated obliquely, in this instance,
at the Yiddish phrase mamme shtarbt avek (Mother is dying; Example 2, m
23). The symbolic bow of the augmented second at the very end of the verse
12
Even Gershwin, who eventually mastered the art, left the orchestration of his
Broadway musicals to hired professionals.
41
(which otherwise makes no use of the motif ) sets the stage for its functional,
or thematic use in the refrain:
1-2 Oi
3. Oi
weh
weh
ma - me niu
kin - de niu
Example 4b.
SONG II
The style of Yiddish pop is best perceived by marking its deviations from
mainstream practices. Granted the major points in common: functional
harmony from the European classics and formal structure from Tin Pan Alley. Underlying these, however, is an aesthetic at odds with the mainstream
ideal, one which comes into play is Tsurik keyn tsiyon. Rumshinsky, as the
cited anecdote attests, measured his success in part by the degree to which
his work remained faithful to the anonymous folk style. By way of contrast,
the notion of anonymity as an artistic aim was inimical to the mainstream
composer (no matter how derivative his work might actually be).
13
42
Zylbercweig14 noted in his chronology that Tsurik keyn tsiyon was adopted
into the anonymous Zionist repertoire not long after publication; the piece
was presumably sung at partisan gatherings throughout the United States and
Canada.15 Thus, before considering the relationship of Yiddish pop to Jewish
folk music through the context of Tsurik keyn tsiyon, the folk-Zionist connection requires some explication. Aron Marko Ruthmller has touched on this
subject, when dealing with Zionist songs in connection with folk music.16 He
traces the folkstyle of Zionist songs to the sudden popularity of the movement
at the time of the First World War. The number of partisan singing societies
(important social adjuncts to Zionist politicizing) had multiplied apace, and
the ensuing demand for choral music led to the rapid creation of a body of
works in an assimilable style, particularly folksong arrangements and original
works cast in a folk-like idiom. Perhaps the only clear-cut distinction between
the two repertoires is that Zionist songs were created to be sung en masse,
whereas, according to Beregovski,17 Jewish folk songs, in general, are solo,
performed by an individual. As a conscientious effort to remain true-to-folk
in a consciously folk-rooted style, then, Tsurik keyn tsiyon doubly qualifies
as a touchstone for the discussion of folk elements in Yiddish pop.
The folk quality of Tsurik keyn tsiyon is not evident in the verse, upholding
Sigmund Spaeths Tin Pan Alley axiom18 that only the chorus really matters
in a popular song. Here, rather, the art aspect, particularly Rumshinskys
sense of theatre, makes itself felt. The lyrics to the verse, a recitativein waltztime, toy with, but never directly state, the subject of Zion (i.e., the Jewish
national homeland, Palestine); that declaration is naturally reserved for the
refrain. Yet to underpin the plangent cry nur dort, nur dort... (only there,
only there... ), the composer allows the music to upstage the poetry, ringing
out the home and theme just prior to its first full verbal statement wth a
fragment of the Zionist anthem, Hatikvah, (Our Hope):
14 Rumshinsky-bukh, 1931: 40.
15 The songs American context is discussed with regard to the lyrics. The first
page of the sheet music bears the superscription original music by Joseph Rumshisky
(sicmy emphasis; Rumshinsky added the n to his native Rumshisky, according
to his son Murray, for ease of pronunciation)a formula not met with elsewhere.
Slobin mentions a Zionist hymn of the same name in his discussion of the Shapiro
broadsides (Tenement Songs, 1982: 100).
16 A. M. Rothmller, The Music of the Jews (New York: Thomas Yoseloff ), 1967:
137.
17 Old Jewish... , 1982: 292.
18 Quoted in Slobin, Evolution... , 1982: 121.
43
koi - mes
sho - lem
nur dort
nur dort
nur dort
nur dort
Among the older forms of expression, those elements survive that are
most suitable to the new demands and their corresponding new ideology.
Parallel to those internal new means of expression are those taken from
the external sound environment. Naturally these borrowings are not
mechanical. Not everything that resonates in the environment is
simply adopted, and remains as foreign matter. The borrowings enter
the repertoire transformed, in accordance with the ideology of the social
stratum that borrows. Finally, not all strata and groups with folkloric
demands borrow the same folkloric elements. Each group tends to adopt
what is consonant with its new content.19
Within the formal confines of its Tin Pan Alley structure, Tsurik keyn
tsiyon shares some telling points with the folk idiom. Rothmullers general
description of the Jewish folksong style, a simple melody, with a plain harmonic foundation, not particularly rich in modulations, and clear, definite
rhythm,20 comfortably delineates the Rumshinsky tune (and, not incidentally,
much European and North American folk and popular music). The tunes
first suggestion of folklore, then, is the singability of the refrain, much less
evident in the soloistic, quasi-recitative verse.
Phrase structure accounts for another semblance to the Jewish and Greater
European folkstyle. The melodies of Jewish folk songs, as well as textless
instrumental pieces, are symmetrical, Beregovski tells us,21 also stating that
in the overwhelming majority of cases, the melodies of Jewish folk songs
are divided into periods consisting of two parts, each of which is subdivided
19 Beregovski, Old Jewish... , 1982: 25.
20 Rothmuller, The Music..., 1967: 130.
21 Old Jewish..., 1982: 293.
44
into two musical phrases... Beregovski reports that the predominant phrasal
scheme in Jewish folksong is an ABCB quatrain structure. The archetypal Tin
Pan Alley tune is formulated in eight-bar phrases, the typical refrain scheme
being AABA, yielding an overall 32-measure structure. Within its ABCD
quatrain scheme and four-bar phrase structure, Tsurik keyn tsiyon exhibits
the legacy of both its Tin Pan Alley and Yiddish folk sources.
The Beregovskian concept of adaptive consonance is important to two
other, more categorically Jewish, folklike elements of Yiddish pop. Beregovski22
noted both of these characteristics in the Introduction to his posthumously
published collection of folk melodies. First, it is a not infrequent tendency of
tunes to juxtapose an initial minor phrase with a subsequent phrase in the
relative major (Beregovski took care to distinguish between juxtaposition of
modes and modulation to another key). In this respect, the harmonic scheme
of Tsurik keyn tsiyon, with its episode in the relative major, follows the folk
convention, juxtaposing a phrase rather than effecting a modulation:
Harmonic scheme of Tsurik keyn tsiyon
A4 B4 C4 D4
i-V V-i VI-V7/VI-VI-V i-iv-V-(i)
Stemming from folkloric notions of motivic contrast, the harmonic behavior of this tune (and a great many Rumshinsky pieces) differs sharply from
the often elaborate, classically-rooted modulatory schemes of mainstream
standards.
Another folk element consonant to Yiddish pop is the tendency to invoke the augmented-second sound. Folk practice, according to Beregovsky,23
typically called for the lowered-second scale degree at cadential points, or for
the raised fourth for heightened emphasis. Beregovski believed (with regard
to the altered Dorian mode) that folk musical practice was well aware of
the expressive qualities of melodies in this scale.24 The augmented-second
idea (whether Doric or frigish) was patently seized upon by pop composers,
and for similar ends as the folk. Rumshinsky upholds both its cadential and
expressive connotations in Tsurik keyn tsiyon, where the augmented interval
(representing the lowered II of V) is used to define the works major caesura;
22
23
24
Ibid., p. 294.
Ibid., pp. 294, 296.
Ibid., p. 296.
45
dort
hos
tu
dein
chay - lek
kein
The jargon style of Yiddish pop, though distinct from the folk idiom,
clung to its source in traditional music much closer than mainstream popular
music held to the tenets of the European classics. Statements by Rumshinsky,
his mentor Abraham Goldfaden and other composers, attest to a near-filial
devotion to their mothers song, one which paralleled their professional allegiance to the mother tongue, Yiddish. For Rumshinsky and other popular
composers, the folkstimme was (to paraphrase Eric Werners phrase out of
context) the voice still heard,26 an inspiration, and a resource.
SONG III
25 Just as the echo of Hatikvah was reserved for a critical transitional phrase,
so the augmented second is held in theatrical reserve until the penultimate measure
of the refrains first statement (where it is repeated).
26 After the title of Werners 1976 book on the sacred songs of the Ashkenazic
Jews: A Voice Still Heard.
27 Boris Thomashefsky (1869-1939), Yiddish actor and producer, gifted with
both a magnificent voice and stage presence.
46
ten.
3 3
Example 7. Intrit
wie tog
a - soi
nacht.
47
Yid
di - she
kin
der
in
land
in
dem,
A similarity of approach unites A grus fun der heym with the two previously discussed songs, Mamenyu and Tsurik keyn tsiyon. Each piece
precedes a metrically pronounced, cut-time refrain with a quasi-recitative
verse in three-quarter time. Each is constructed of four-bar phrases, the third
of which moves, by way of contrast, to the relative major.28 And each makes
telling use of the augmented-second idea. More clearly than the earlier works,
however, A grus fun der heym avows its provenance in grand operetta, in
the lavish and elaborate style that typified the Yiddish theatre at the time of
the songs debut. Ambitious productions were yet to come, but the War (as the
Groves author notes) signalled a new direction for light opera, as composers
began abandoning high art notions of technique and formal coherence to
embrace the forms of popular music.
SONG IV
Shema yisroel
D minor
Shema yisroel, another well-received tune from Thomashefskys 1918 hit
show Di khazente, adds to and elaborates the list of grand operetta elements discussed so far. Di khazentes Old World setting29 may explain its
retrospective musical style in contrast to a song like Fifty-Fifty, from the
chronologically earlier but determinedly American Up Town and Down
Town. Rumshinsky, at this stage of his career, evidently affected a European
manner and an American manner, depending on the plot and setting of his
various productions.30
28 This occurs in the verse of Mamenyu, in the refrain of the other two,
29 The plot of Di Khazente involved the temporary ascension of a shtetl rabbis
wife to her late husbands rabbinic throne. Their son (played by Thomashefsky) arrives for a visit from America, and by plays end has persuade the entire community
to emigrate back with him to New York City. Di Khazente was the operetta revived
for Broadway in English during the mid-1930s.
30 On the sheet music cover page, Up Town and Down Town is specifically called
48
style
inst vocal
inst
vocal
vocal/inst
bars
4 4
16
12
Voice
Shma
Music
49
Sh'ma yis - ro - el
her mich aus
e - lo - him
sha - dai
dein welt is
grois
The Coda offers the flashy complement to this soulful, deliberate style,
the hyperexpressive, ornamental melisma:
yis - ro - el
Shma
Sh-ma
A final aspect of cantorial influence is the improvisatory break occurring midway (m 8) through the verse. The break, in pop and jazz parlance,
is a spontaneous (or pseudo-spontaneous) melodic filler sometimes interpolated at phrase endings. Rumshinskys use of the break can be traced, or
at least related, to cantorial practice. According to Nulman,34 spontaneous
improvisatory elaboration of the prayer modes had long been part of the
cantorial stock-in-trade, cultivated by numerous khazonim. Of course, major distinctions separate cantorial improvisation and the breaks of popular
songs. For example, popular-song breaks characteristically maintain the
ongoing pulse, while cantorial improvisations typically suspend the beat
(Rumshinskys break employs a written ritard and fermata, making it more
cantorial than most). Here as elsewhere, however, the operating principle is
stylistic consonance rather than arrogation of styles. The framework of the
33 Nulman, Encyclopedia... , 1975: 168, 203-204.
34 Ibid., p. 117.
50
pop song, as conceived by Rumshinsky and his colleagues, allowed for the
fusing of such seeming disparaties.35
rit.
ch shrei un
ruf
shma
yis - ro
el
Shma yis-ro - el
shrayt der yd
fa - ren Toidt
ch ruf zu
dir a zind
35 Rumshinsky makes highly effective use of the break in some later, much more
pop-oriented tunes, notably Eyshes khayil (1938).
36 This typical placement also incidentally points out the harmonic function
of the augmented second in much of Yiddish pop, where it commonly facilitates the
harmonic movement from the penultimate verse phrase to the dominant half-cadence
traditionally preceding the refrain. In the present instance, the augmented second
serves to move the harmony from the submediant, Bb, to the dominant, A.
51
SONG 5
Rumshinskys Ikh benk aheym is a pop song in the sense that it enjoyed
wide popularity for a stretch of time. In structure and compositional style,
however, it more closely resembles an opera aria than a hit tune from the
Yiddish theatre. Yet, the aria it hypothetically resembles is also removed from
the conventional mold. In terms of its form, Ikh benk aheym remains sui
generis as both classical and pop music.
37 Wilder, American... , 1972: 155.
38 Zylbercweig, Rumshinsky-bukh , 1931, passim.
39 First published by Rumshinsky in The Daily Forward (Yiddish), 1927.
52
ritorn I
segu/intro/recit IV interlude ritorn III
14
534
18
grandfather uns reb
Perhaps the only clear impression to be gained from this rather woolly
outline is that the piece lacks formal clarity. Absent are the lucid formulations of the classic aria or rondo and the unambiguous profile of the Tin Pan
Alley tune. At the core of the work lies the ritornello, a Yiddish pop tune
in folk dance style.40 The intractability of the piece as a whole is reflected by
the anomalous tonality of the ritornellofrigish with a raised flat-second
degreea mode unknown and unnamed.41 Rumshinsky is emphatic about
40 A 32-bar form, with the somewhat unusual phrasal configuration AAAA ||
BBAA; the ritornello is played through in its entirety the first time only; subsequent
appearances are truncated.
41 It was standard practice for Rumshinsky and his Yiddish pop composer
colleagues to notate frigish songs in A minor, with the tonal center on E. Thus the
scale of a typical Rumshinsky frigish tune such as Eyshes khayil (1938) would be
E-F-G#-A-B-C-D. Ikh benk aheym is his only work I know of to use a mode with a
53
rit.
Allegro
Pno.
Ich beink
heim
mp
Allegro
Later in the work, Rumshinsky again shifts mode to work a similar transmutation of mood. Recreating the singers grandfathers Hasidic ecstasy (over
the prayers for Roysh khoydesh), the composer adjusts the prevailing modality
from minor to a rapturous Mixolydian (Adonai Malakh).
raised second, major third and minor sixth. The ethnomusicologically appropriate
notation for a frigish piece (without the raised second) would be a solitary G-sharp in
the signatureunusual by Western standards.
54
Moderato
3
3
Moderato
mf
Kei-voi - doi
mo
a - lim se - lo - se
lei
oi - lom
ke - voi
doi
ff
shoi -
lei
55
vi
git
oi wie voil
sein a
yid
is tzu
dolce
56
Ich beink
Kol me- ka - deish she - vi - i ko - ro - u loi
3
3
3
3 3 3 3 3 3
al
dig - loi
The source play for this songDem rebns nign (The Rabbis Melody)
was billed as a Hasidic Operetta, and Ikh benk aheym draws on elements
of the Hasidic style for part of its musical and emotive substance. Niggunim
were sacred to the Hasidim, who considered song to be a means of communion with the Creator. Perhaps the most distinctive quality of Hasidic song
is the subordination of text; many niggunim lack lyrics and are sung to filler
syllables such as ya-bam-bam or ay-ay-ay. The Hasidic movement, flourishing since the 18th century, had gone into decline by the end of the 19th, and
become an object of common ridicule among the so-called European and
otherwise enlightened Jews. Nulman42 states that the caricaturing of Hasidic
song became extremely popular in the 19th century among groups antagonistic
to the sect, giving rise to a considerable and influential musical repertoire.
42
57
I told him, A real Hasidic type will not suit your theatrethey can
only treat the subject as caricature, and I will not give my name to that.
Rumshinsky said, I will not bring caricatures of Hasidim on stageI will
depict an idealization of Hasidic life. The characters will be presented in
a more elevated manner than that which is now in the public mind.44
Rumshinsky kept his pledge to Bader; Ikh benk aheym successfully imparts a sense of Hasidisms mystical-ecstatic approach to song through the
singers intense, unaffected piety, and his implacable faith in the transcendent
power of melody.
Bret Werb is Director of Music at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in
Washington, DC. This article is excerpted with permission from his Masters thesis,
Rumshinskys Greatest Hits, the University of California in Los Angeles, 1987.
43 My own conjecture is that the Hasidic connection provides the missing link
between dance and comedy on the Yiddish stage.
44 Dem rebns niggun, Vilna, 1931: 26.
58
A Polka, a Hopke, a stately Quadrille
Let every person dance what they will...
For me, the Sher that my father danced
In childhood will do...
Or, in step with both generations,
Even a Freylekhs or two!
(after Motl Talalyevski)2
Behind all music of an instrumental nature lies the dance, and behind the
symphony lies the dance suite, wrote self-taught contemporary composer/
critic, Anthony Burgess. The bodily movements that dancers engage in when
performing a gigue or a gavotte or a sarabande (orwe might adda Freylekhs, a Kazatske or a Sher), do not directly relate to biological or utilitarian
action, he observed. Instead, they demand from the human body sets of
stylized movements.3 One result of this disconnect between dance steps
and the way we normally move in our daily life is the difficulty we encounter
in singing while dancingand in trying to do justice to both activities at
the same time. The obvious solution: For dance, play lively. For song play
in moderate tempo. So state the publishers instructions under a Freylekhs
that appears with song lyrics in the Kammen International Dance Folio No.
1
59
1, 1924.4 That is the first thing to keep in mind when discussing tantslieder.
When performance-oriented musicians play for dancing, it is a whole new
experience for them and we have to remind them to slow down, comments
dance instructor and researcher Helen Winkler.5
The second consideration is that dance existed as a widespread human
activity as early as the 9th millennium BCE. From hundreds of recently discovered scenes painted on pottery or carved on stone throughout the Balkans
and Middle East, Dr. Yosef Garfinkel of Hebrew University in Jerusalem has
developed an illustrated record of dancing from 9,000 to 5,000 years ago.
That was when humankind gradually made the transition from hunting to
farming,6 andthe theory goeshad the leisure time and settled place to
express itself through group dancing. This seems probable, since flutes and
pipes made of little marrow-bones dating back a millennium earlierfrom
the Late Paleolithic Agehave turned up in caves like the Grotte des TroisFrres at Arige in Southern France. There, a drawing of a man was discovered,
dressed as a bison and playing a kind of flute. Where music exists, dancing
is not far away, observed the English classical scholar Cecil Maurice Bowra
(1898-1971), and scenes of it are not uncommon in the art of the time.7
Concerning the evolution of song, musicologist Curt Sachs observed
that, no language proceeds in an absolute monotone. He was alluding to
speakers universal use of vocal inflectionchanges of tone in the speaking
voicesometimes from bass rumble to soprano whistle and back again, and
rises or falls in pitch of up to two octaves or more.
Sachs posited a three-phase progression between words and instrumental sounds, in which a) primitive song gave way to b) instrumental playing,
which then evolved into c) a more advanced type of singing that imitated
4
Song No. 11, Shpilt Mir Klezmorimlakh.
5
Personal communication, Jan. 20, 2008.
6
John Noble Wilford, In Dawn of Society, Dance Was Center Stage, The New
York Times, 2/27/01.
7
C. M. Bowra, Primitive Song (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson), 1962: 1-2.
8
Curt Sachs, The Wellsprings of Music, Jaap Kunst, ed. (New York: Dover), 1962:
35-37.
60
the pitches of various instruments found in nature (the wood or reed pipe,
for example).
Notwithstanding this and other theories, no one knows for sure just how song
and dance originated. Still, there is apparently something in our psyche that
gravitates towards action. Whenever we try to connect with a divine power
greater than ourselves, we channel that innate kinetic urge into a ritual act.
To ritualize is to make ourselves present, explains theologian Tom F. Driver,9
and thereby to simultaneously invoke the presence of that god or force whom
it is necessary for us to confront and relate to, if we are to make any sense of
why we were put on earth in a particular locale and during a specific time
frame. Song and danceseparately or singlyenable us to reconcile ourselves
with our experience of an environment that is, as Tennyson maintained, red
in tooth and claw.10 Earlier generations idealized that relationship; recent
generations have tried to neutralize it through creativeoften artistically
refined rituals that involve stylized dance.11 In a world of suicide bombers
and crying children, asks choreographer Jaamil Kosoko, why am I dancing?
To help us forget, if only for a moment, that we are dying.12
Ritual acts impart meaning to normal events. They sacralize moments which
at first glance appear to be mundane because they are in fact so universal,
so predictable and so cyclical. Among the most common of these recurring
moments is the event of young people meeting and courting one another
through social dancing. Jewish folksong anthologist Ruth Rubin reported that
Central and Western Europe during the 14th and 15th centuries saw hundreds
of men and women in every communityincluding those predominantly
Jewishdance themselves to exhaustion in the local Tanzhaus,13 following
the Black death that began in 1348.
9
Tom F. Driver, The Magic of Ritual (HarperSanFrancisco), 1991: 37.
10 Alfred Lord Tennyson, In Memoriam, 1850: 61.
11 Jamake Highwater,
(Pennington, NJ: Dance
Horizons), 1985: 28).
12 Jaamil Kosoko, The Power of Dance, Broad Street Review, Philadelphia,
1/2/08.
13 Ruth Rubin, Voices of a PeopleThe Story of Yiddish Folksong (Urbana, IL:
University of Illinois Press), 2000: 182-185, 196: The Tanzhaus was a type of hall where
weddings took place and where, during the holidays, Christian bandsmen were permitted
to play and the dancing of Jews to their music was tolerated. However much the rabbis
in Germany were not in favor of these practices, the dancing halls nevertheless spread
throughout France and Germany, until most of the Jewish communities had one.
61
Dance also offered younger people a respite from the rabbinical strictures
that forbade almost every other pleasurable experience in their lives. In the
Tanzhaus they were able to indulge their social instinct even on the Sabbath,
and later on Festivals as wellto musical accompaniment.14 Historian Alfred
Sendrey15 catalogues known instances where Jews engaged in recreational
dancing during the Renaissance in Italy: Palermo (1469) and Pisa (1524). They
conducted schools of music and dance in Venice (1443), Parma (1466) and
Ancona (1575). A century later a French JewIsaac of Orleansconducted
a school of dance in Paris.
With their enclosure in secluded ghettos beginning in 1516 (Venice),
Europes Jews were peremptorily excluded from the musical growth that
would continue all around them over the next few centuries: the flowering
of Polyphony, the Baroque and Classicism. The ghetto-Jews desire for entertainment found an outlet in dancing that featured leaps and bounds hopping in a circle and vigorous movements of the arms.16 To Christian eyes
it was more athletic than aesthetic, a travesty of folk dance encased in weird
rhythms and cacophonous harmonies. It earned the sobriquet, Judentanz
(Jewish Dance), which featured, among other specialties, a Totentanz. The
celebrated woman entrepreneur Glckel of Hameln (1648-1724) mentions in
her memoirs that at a relatives wedding celebration, guests concluded their
performance with a splendid Dance of Death.17
Walter Zev Feldman, a researcher into Ottoman Turkish and Eastern European music, informs that, on the basis of musical material, Yiddish dance
is referenced in a 1674 document [as existing] in Poland, but then almost
nothing appears in writing until the 19th century.18 At that time, observed
Ruth Rubin:
dance songs sprang up as the wild flowers in the field among young
men and women, in the main the working youth, of the cities and towns
of the Jewish Pale. The secular atmosphere of the Tanzhaus was perhaps
carried over, but the formality was gone and the environment was
markedly changed, as were already many patterns of life and mores in
14 Israel Abrahams, Jewish Life in the Middle Ages (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society), 1958: 381.
15 Alfred Sendrey, The Music of the Jews in the Diaspora (New York: Thomas
Yoseloff ), 1970: 250-252.
16 Ibid. page 323.
17 The Memoirs of Glckel of Hameln, translated by Marvin Lowenthal (New
York: Schocken Books), 1977: 99.
18 Defining Yiddish Dance, Internet Proceedings of Yiddish Dance Symposium,
Transcribed and edited by Ari Davidow, New York, Dec. 9, 2007, p. 2.
62
The rise of Hasidism with its espousal of unfettered joy, had meanwhile
led to a renewed interest in dance among the unlettered masses. Hasidic
dance assumed the form of a circle, writes Dvorah Lapson,19 symbolic of
the hasidic philosophy that every one of us is equal, each one being a link in
the chain, the circle having no front or rear, no beginning or ending. Built
on a strong rhythmic underpinning, the early hasidic dances began slowly
and accelerated very gradually until the music attained such a level of velocity, volume and pitch that the dancers reached a state of ecstatic exhaustion.
When this sort of religious fervorexpressed through song and dancewas
experienced by outsiders invited to hasidic weddings or circumcisions, it
could not fail to leave a lasting impression.
Perhaps the protracted struggle between emotionally driven Hasidim and
their rational-minded opponents (Mitnagdim) engendered a dampening
of enthusiasm for the development of dance as a pursuit unto itself. In the
minds of many Jews, frenzied dancing became identified with a fanatical
kind of Orthodoxy, something to be satirized or even ridiculed. Books of
Hasidic teachings were burned and adherents of Hasidic belief had been
excommunicated in the 18th century upon orders issued by Rabbi Elijah ben
Solomon Zalman (1720-1797), the acknowledged religious authority (Gaon)
of intellectually oriented Lithuanian Jewry, centered in Vilna.
By the time these internecine fires died out on both sides of the divide,
irreparable damage had been done. Hasidism had peaked temporarily, and
any chance for social dancing to keep pace with the innovations that had
spread across Europe during the 19th century was squelched by a rabbinic
misinterpretation of Proverbs 11: 21 that made it read: Though they walk
hand in hand [i.e., dancing], the wicked shall not go unpunished).20 This
reactionary rabbinic stance made it that much more difficult for Yiddish
folk dancing to find its own way among the many pan-European forms that
suddenly confronted it.
How did the borrowed terpsichorian garments fit their new wearers? We
cite three written accounts of that era, all from memoirs that have now been
placed online.21 The earliest report concerns a women-only affair that was
19 Dvorah Lapson, s.v., DanceHasidism, Encyclopedia Judaica (Jerusalem:
Keter), 1972, 5: 1268.
20 Sendrey, op. cit., 1970: 326.
21 JewishGen.org/ [plus name of town or country, in this case,] Litvak.
63
It lasted all day: eating, playing games, asking riddles, staging contests
and congratulating the bride-elect and the rest of the family. Some of the
games were very comical, requiring each losing player to forfeit a personal
possession such as a fine ring or handkerchief that could only be redeemed
by doing something comical: kissing the bride or anyone else, or confessing
to something funny about herself. The worst was for a young girl to have
to admit to being in love with a certain young man They also danced a
lot: Squares, Polkas and Kazatskes. The last was something like a Jig, with
two girls dancing towards each other. The dancers themselves furnished
the music by singing a different tune for each dance, as on the Sabbath it
is not permitted to play instruments.
The second and third references come from post-Holocaust Yizkor Books
that have been placed online, concerning the communities of Bobruisk in
Belarus23 and Borkhov (Borsczow) in the Ukraine.24
Bobruisk: In 1892 they brought two dance teachers from afar, and
Jewish Daughters learned to lift their legs and hop as one must. They
taught song and dance an hour a day, for a small price. With them stood
together some two or three single young men. The sessions were held
even during the Nine Days of semi-mourning preceding Tisha BAv
Also on the fast day itself they danced, and not only young women by
themselves, but with the single men, together.
Borkhov: In the years before World War I young people started to perform.
Around 1910 the first play put on, Moshe Richters comedy, Moshe
the Tailor, was performed to great success. The boys and girls acted no
worse than the professional troupes that used to come to Borkhov The
admission monies from such plays were given to a worthy cause. In
order to increase the income they would arrange a dance evening where
boys and girls used to dance well into the dawn. Orthodox Jews were
not particularly inspired by this new activity. Nevertheless, the forwardlooking ladies used to attend these performances and dance evenings as
guards for their growing daughters. Up to that time, girls would dance
only among themselves They hired a dance teacher and every mother
considered it her duty that her daughter learn the new steps because
22 Life in the Shtetl of Shnurel, The Memoirs of Mary Hellen Herr Bernard
(1886-1942; describing in 1938 the life and times of her great grandmother who had
been born in 1785 and died in 1893).
23 Memorial Book of the Community of Bobruisk and Its Surroundings, Y. Slutsky,
ed. (Tel-Aviv: Former Residents of Bobruisk in Israel and the USA), 1967.
24 The Book of Borkhov, Shlomo Reibel, How They Spent Their Leisure Time,
Miriam Beckerman, tr., Myrna Neuberger Levy, ed. (Tel-Aviv: n.p.), 1960.
64
shortly there would be another dance evening and the daughter might,
God forbid, remain at home.
The songs that were used to accompany or to teach dancing mitigated the
difficulty that young people had in trying to impress the opposite sex while
attempting to execute steps they had never before encountered. Its not that
these dances were routinely employed as a cure for emotional disorders,
explains social commentator Barbara Ehrenreich.25 Nor were they used by
our great-great-grandparents to vent frustrations over their poverty-ridden
existence. Instead, the transformational relief that these dance songs provided
were on a more humble level. It was consistent with an attitude towards unattainable artistry which centuries of enforced ghetto living had inevitably
instilled in their ancestors. Jewish folkdance dance instructor Steve Weintraub
sums it up:26
Klezmorim were not needed when young male and female friends of a
newly married couple met in their tiny apartment on a Friday night or
Saturday afternoonthose heymishe surroundings generally had no room
for both dancing and instruments. Instead, the young folk sang and danced
spontaneously, in complete release from the pressure of daily work and
troubles. The tunes they sang were plentiful, picked up from the dance
accompaniments of traveling Klezmorim at wedding or circumcision
celebrations. And just like the tunes, all sorts of dances were in the airan
international assortment to choose from.
The only thing lacking was a knowledge of the art of dancing, how to
execute the actual steps. From out of the resulting chaosof which all
participants were painfully awarecame an endless supply of satirical
songs next to which traditional folksongs seem pale indeed. 27
65
It was obvious to the young folk that they needed instruction, preferably
from one of their own.
Who, then, were their instructors? Anyone who could sing and dance well,
had the eye of a hawk, and could improvise a running commentarypreferably
in rhymewhile maintaining the rhythm! Assuming the honorific of tantsmayster (dancing master), this talented self-crowned expert had nothing to
go on but his own quick wits in getting dance novices to shape up. Hence,
such on-the-spot insults to grammar, rhyme and offending individuals as: Gey
azoysetdrey zikh oyset! (Go to the outerdont stand and pouter!).
Hence, also, an inevitable disconnect between the gallant form of address used in pan-European ballroom dancing and the desperate attempts
of tantsmaysters to maintain both their composure and the illusion of high
society comportment: Damen un Herrena klog tsu aykh! (Gentlemen and
Ladiesdamn your Zeydies!).
Under these surreal conditions, the Gentlemen and Ladies gave their
tormentor tit for tat (but politely, of course):
This was improvised folk poetry, and all parties took the liberty of a certain
license.
66
If you read about shtetl30 dances or watch old Yiddish movies, you will come
to realize that the dances usually involved a good deal of improvisation,
i. e., they werent choreographed dances. You will also notice that the
dance descriptions in all of the old folk dance books are choreographed
to suit the recreational dance setting. The dances now being taught at
the klezmer dance workshops tend to be more like the shtetl versions.
Hopefully, there will soon be videos and books that reflect this.
Then there is the pervasive influence of what Ari Davidow terms Modern
Israeli Orthodox, at a Brooklyn wedding he recently attended, which revealed
a striking absence of Klezmer style.31
28 (Yiddish for the Hebrew Huppah), Beregovsky, Old Jewish Folk Music, 1982:
192.
29 Helens Jewish Dance PageDances of the Jews of Eastern Europe.
30 Shtetl is the generic Yiddish designation for any small, out-of-the-way mostlyJewish hamlet in Eastern Europe.
31 Internet Proceedings of Yiddish Dance Symposium, Transcribed and edited by
Ari Davidow, New York, Dec. 9, 2007, p. 24.
67
now pays some attention to footwork (although the steps were not
sophisticated the theatrics and efforts were intense). Most of the action
still appeared to take place above the waist, as is traditional.
Dance-types
The following descriptions are for dance-types pertaining to the songs cited
later in this article. Their number, limited by the need to present only as many
Yiddish dance songs as space permits, regrettably precludes such favorites
as the Israeli Hora, along with the standard Freylekhs variationThreading
the Needlewhose execution lies beyond the scope of this music-oriented
survey. The expositional material derives principally from the Dance Descriptions section of Helen Winklers Dance Page, a comprehensive and
ever-growing website recommended to researchers of all levels. Contributors were webmaster Winkler and those listed in bold type below, whom she
credits throughout:
Michael Alpert et al,32
Erik Bendix et al,33
Fred Berk,34
Milton Blackstone,35
Jacob Bloom,36
68
69
Henry Sapoznik,50
Lillian Shapero,51
Myron Shatulsky,52
Maja Trochimczyk,53
Nathan Vizonsky,54
Sonny Watson,55
Steve Weintraub,56
Every dance-type description that follows lists one or more songs that can
be sung to the dance. In each case, the song title in bold type is given with
music later on, mostly from Cahans collection. The other songs listed with
it are equally suitableif a bit less accessible to researchers.
It was customary at a shtetl wedding for two individuals who had perfected
the characterizations and habitually used the Broyges Dance as a vehicle
for entertaining those gathered, to dance a pantomime of fighting and then
making up, a life lesson for the newly married couple. To underscore the
point, the music was played slowly as the couple danced away from each
other. When they forgave each other and embraced, the music became more
lively. Quite frequently, the designated couple turned out to be the two
mothers-in-law.
Nathan Vizonsky, Florence Freehof and Dvorah Lapson all offer varying
choreographed versions. Jack Kugelmass cites a descriptive excerpt from a
Holocaust Yizkor book, while several artists in the CD compilation, Klezmer
Music: A Marriage of Heaven and Earth, provide relevant narratives. In
50 Henry Sapoznik, Klezmer! Jewish Music from Old World to Our World (New
York: Macmillan,), 1999.
51 Lillian Shapero, The Patsh Tants, in Lapson, Dances of the Jewish People
(1954).
52 Myron Shatulsky, The Ukranian Folk Dance (London: Kobzar), 1980.
53 Maja Trochimczyk, Mazur (Mazurka), Polish Dance website.
54 Nathan Vizonsky, Ten Jewish Folk Dances, a Manual for Teachers and Leaders
(Chicago: American-Hebrew Theatrical League), 1942.
55 Sonny Watsons website, Streetswing.com.
56 Steve Weintraub, Winnipeg Klezmer Dance Workshop, November 2001.
57 Steven Zeitlin, A.M.J. Kotkin & Holly Cutting Baker, The Wedding Dance,
A Celebration of Family Folklore Tales & Traditions from the Smithsonian Collection
(New York: Panteon Books), 1982.
70
71
With Attitude
rop - ge - lozt
di
noz.
Refrain:
Day
day - day
day - day
tog
day,
2. Bulgar
Zev Feldman asserts that the Bulgar will be familiar to anyone who has experience with dances of the Balkans, where it appears under different names
in the various countries (e.g., Sarba in Romania). The Bulgar became the
predominant dance in the early 20th-century American Jewish community,
due to a perception that it was a secular danceBulgareascapicked up by
European Jews from the surrounding community of Moldavia. The fact that
it did not have a strong association with Orthodox Jewish weddings gave it
an additional appeal to many. In subsequent American-born generations the
Bulgar did not survive, due to the overall decline of Klezmer music and dance
in the United States. Jacob Bloom describes a Bulgar as taught by Michael
Alpert at KlezKamp in 1994:
Formation: Shoulder hold, circle or line, revolving either right or left, or
snaking around the room; if a circle, some people can move into the center
and show off their moves (a feature that is permitted in most Yiddish
dances, according to LeeEllen Friedland).58
Basic step: Resembles that of the Israeli Hora.
A) Right foot steps to right, left foot crosses in front (or behind)
B) Right foot steps to right, left foot swings across
C) Left foot steps to left, right foot swings across
72
Ikh vel mikh shtekhenWords: Cahan, no. 253; Music: Kammen, 1924,
no. 19
(PINSK)
Music: Kammen (1924, no. 19)
1
Lively
1.
17
26
2.
lier!
un
fay - nem,
un
fay - nem
ka - va -
va
lier;
73
Fine
vos
er
ruft
bay
1.
2.
17
un
fay - nem,
un
fay - nem
ka - va -
lier;
Fine
1.
26
zhans - kin,
lier!
2.
vos er
35
vos
ruft
er
ruft
bay
shey - nem
un
fay - nem
ka - va -
va
1.
ter.
42
bay
fens
lier;
ter;
2.
far
dem
DC al Fine
using 2nd verse
lier.
3. Freylekhs
A cheerful dance in 2/4 time that Helen Winkler identifies in her Dance Description section as the major group-dance of the East European Jews the
one you see in all the old movies at most weddings and Bar Mitzvahs. The
concept is simple: either a line or a circle (or both formations interchanging);
everyone steps in their own way to the music. That doesnt mean its a freefor-all. There are characteristic movementslike a shuffling sort of walka
two-step, alternately stepping and stamping. The circle/line can move to the
right or to the left, snaking around the room. People can go into the middle
of the circle to show off their moves.
A spontaneous Freylekhs works best with a large group interacting. For
smaller groups of 10 to 15, the choreographed versions are sometimes safer.
This would ultimately depend on the experience level or preferences of the
dancers and the dance leader. For some enthusiasts, a totally improvised
Freylekhs will work no matter how small the group. For others, who are
uncomfortable with the idea of improvising, a choreographed version might
work better.
The community at large probably gets confused about a Hora vs. a Freylekh.
The Hora can mean many things. The Israeli Hora is a fast-paced dance done
with a shoulder hold and several characteristic stepsnot really much like
the Freylekhswith the basic step being the same as the Roumanian Sarba
(i.e., Bulgar) step.
There is also a slow (or Roumanian) Hora, done to very leisurely 3/8-time
music, with its own distinctive footwork; again, its very different from either
74
the Israeli Hora or the Freylekhs. In Roumanian dancing, the Hora seems to
be a generic word for dance, but quite often refers to a saw-toothed pattern that moves in and out of the line or circle. when traveling through the
Balkansincluding Greeceone finds many Horas, Horos and Orosall of
which are really non-specific terms for dance.
Just as steps seemingly migrate from dance to danceso, too, do dance
tunes migrateto the point where melodies that have proven themselves as
effective vehicles for a particular dance will inevitably be applied to other
dances as well. The Freylekhs offers a parade example: more settings exist
for it than for any other Yiddish dance. Here are a half-dozen that will do
nicelyin various musical modes and moodsbut you might also hear them
accompanying Hopkes (see immediately below).
Du zolst nit reydnWords: Cahan, no. 251; Music: Cahan, no. 252
3. FREYLEKHSSoreh-Rivkeh
Soreh-Rivkeh, turn to the center,
Soreh-Rivkeh, drey zikh durkhn mitn ,
Tra-la-la Tra-la-la
Khaykeleh, gey zhe du baym zayt,
Khaykele, nows your time to enter,
Tra-la-la. Tra-la-la.
Nu, tu zikh a drey (a brokh tsu dir)!
Why wont you twirl (or break a leg)!
Sashay down the line
Gey zhe durkhn mitn
Honor your partner (or catch the plague)! Nu, tu zikh a drey (a klog tsu dir)!
Youre really doing fine.
(Ikh brekh dir dayn gorset)!
Make way, Tamara, see how its done Zey, Tamareh, makh a vareh
Watch! Gekhele (oi, what fun)!
Zey, Gekheleh, vi ikh gey!
Lift her, Yenkele, shes not a nun
Un du, Yenkele, durkhn mitn
(Even though she weighs a ton)!
Khaykeleh, tu zikh a drey!
75
(MINSK)
Words & Music: L Cahan, 1957, no. 217
1
Animated
10
So - reh Riv - keh, drey zikh dur - khn mi - tn, tra, la,
zayt,
23
tra - la - la!
tu zikh a drey, a
Khay - ke - leh,
Nu, tu - zikh a drey,a brokh tsu dir! Gey - zhe dur - khn mi - tn. Nu,
17
la!
Zey Ge -khe - leh, vi ikh gey! Un du, Yen-ke - le, dur - khn mi - tn, Khay - ke - le, tu zikh a drey!
76
Refrain Refrain:
Hot tea turns to frigid tea,
Heyse tey, kalte tey,
Cookies and biscotti,
Teyglekh mit fasolyes,
Girls who when young are pretty
Alle sheyne meydelekh
Often act quite haughty!
Hobn miyuse dolyes!
61 Based upon Mishnah Sukkot 4.9.
62 Babylonian Talmud, Sukkah 53a (more probably it was Shimon ben Lakish,
a noted athlete, cf. JT, Gittin IV. 9; BT, Gittin 47a).
77
All week she cooked trs gourmet:
Vos hostu gekokht a gantse
vokh?
Chicken cacciatore;
Teyglekh mit fasolyes;
Shabbos, much to my dismay:
Vos hostu gekoht oyf Shabbes
nokh?
Bread crumbs, end of story!
Farfel mit barbolyes!
Refrain:
Hot tea turns to frigid tea,
Cookies and biscotti,
Girls who when young are pretty
Often act quite haughty.
(PODOLIA)
Words & Music: Cahan (1957, no. 239)
1
Very Fast
Refrain:
Heyse tey, kalte tey,
Teyglekh mit fasolyes,
Alle sheyne meydelekh
Hobn miyuse dolyes!
Refrain:
mit a char - la - tan - ka!
Hey - se tey,
kal - te tey,
teyg - lekh mit fa 12
sol - yes;
al - le shey - ne
mey - de - lekh
ho - bn
mi - yu - se
po - lo - nyez,
dol - yes!
Sonny Watson relates that the Lancers Quadrille was introduced in France by
M. Laborde in 1836 and spread to England two decades later. Solemnly slow,
with graceful salutes and delightful curtsies, the Lancers Quadrille became a
salon favoritethe men referred to as Cavaliers and the ladies as Dames. Its
music (Cahan no. 219) reflects that courtliness. Written in 6/8 time, it recalls
a Tarantella, only more deliberate and minus any hint of the madness associated with the Italian folk dance.63 The Lancers directions still bore classical
ballet nomenclature: jet, croissez, balancez, etc.
Opening formationThe Rose:
1. The first lady and opposite gentleman advance and retire, turn with both
hands and return to their places.
63 Resulting from a bite by the poisonous Tarantula spider, whose venom supposedly could be countermanded only by continuous and energetic dancing (Wikipedia).
78
2. The leading lady and her partner cross over, hand in hand, and the opposite
couple do the same, separately and passing on the outside.
3. All turn and set at the corners.
Fourth formationThe Star:
1. The first couple pays a visit to the couple on the right hand, and bows,
2. Then to the couple on the left hand, the same, while assuming an
arabesque-like pose.
3. Back to places, right and left.
5. LAANSEMotl, motl
Motl, Motl, turn your head towards me,
Motl, Motl, tsu mir mitn
ponim,
Yente, Yente, try to bend your knee.
Yente, Yente, gey in der mit!
Gitl, Gitl, its your turn to advance,
Gitl, Gitl, gey shoyn aher
Dvoreh, Dvoreh, why dont you
Dvoreh, Dvoreh,
Give the dance a chance!
Gey shoyn tsurik!
64
65
Part 3, section 6.
Websters Third New International Dictionary, 1981: 2016.
79
With Spirit
Mo - tl, Mo - tl, tsu mir mi - tn po - nim,
10
git.
mit!
1.
a - her,
15
2.
80
6. MAZURKEHayntikeh meydelekh
Women today (who speak like Okies)
Hayntike meydelekh di
fonferonkes,
Zey geyen oyf khasunes un
Go to weddings and dance the Polkies
tantsn polkes;
They can twirl the whole night through,
Polke-mazur iz zeyer lebn,
Zey hobn keyn groshn dem
To pay the band they havent a clue!
klezmer tsu gebn!
Bandleader, play it hot
Klezmer, klezmer, shpilt mir
sheyn,
A drayer meyn iz gor keyn sakh,
For that Ill give you a five-spot
A five-spot and perhaps youll sing a song Khvel aykh gebn a drayer meyn!
While tootin a clarinet the whole night long Ir zolt mir shpiln a gantser nakht!
A wedding gig is not as bad a drag
A gantser nakht iz keyn sakoneh,
Mtor nisht khasune hobn mit an
As gettin hitched to an ancient nag
almoneh;
Whose knee-bones rattle and dentures click An almoneh hot kalte fis
Id rather snuggle with a cute young chick! A sheyn meydele iz tsuker zis!
(WARSAW)
Words & Music: Cahan (1957, no. 245)
Staccato First Beat
1 Accented Second Beat
tan - tsn
pol - kes;
ho - bn keyn
gro
Pol - ke Ma - zur
shn
der
iz
ze - yer
klez - mer
tsu
ge
le
bn,
zey
bn!
7. Mitzvah Tants
It fulfilled the Talmuds injunction to dance before the bride.66 The Badkhn,
acting as master of ceremonies, traditionally called up male wedding guests
to dance with the bride, one at a time. Isaac Rivkind differentiates the term
66 Babylonian Talmud, Ktubot 16b-17a, Our Rabbis taught: How does one dance
before the bride? the school of Hillel say, while singing her praises asgraceful and
beautiful!
81
Mitzvah Tants as being danced with both bride and groom. Sefer minhagim,
a Book of Customs published 1590 in Venice, describes the Mitzvah Tants
as a form of group involvement in which the men danced with the groom and
the women with the bride. Little more than a century later, the primer Derekh
ha-yashar (The Righteous Path; J. M. Epstein, Frankfort, 1704) stipulates
that men took turns dancing with the bride after wrapping something around
their hand as a symbol of separation (general use of a handkerchief came into
play early in the 19th century). Some have called this the Kosher dance, since
the bride had undergone ritual purification in a Mikvehritual bathprior
to the wedding. The bride was usually seated amidst a circle of chosen guests
while the Badkhn called each by name to step forward and dance with her.
First honors went to the parents on both sides, the next ones went to scholars
and community leaders, etc. During the weeklong festivities, neighbors and
townspeopleeven beggarshad the right to dance with the bride. She, in
turn, would look down modestly in order to avoid making eye contact with
any of the men she danced with.67
In the shtetl, everyone would have improvised their own steps when they
took a turn dancing with the bride, and that would have worked. In todays
climate of group-centered folk dancing, however, no participant wants to
sit on the sidelines watching others dance with a fictitious bride. So the
Mitzvah Tants has been modified into a vehicle for couples or for mixing. To
avoid chaos it is choreographed, yet participants ought not to worry if they
dont get the footwork quite right, since this was originally an improvised
dance. The only concern is that people change partners at the same time or
they might collide.
Music:
a 4/4 (i.e., moderately slow) Freylekhs or Bulgar will do; for faster
music use two beats per step, for slower music use one beat per step.
82
(PINSK)
Words & Music: Cahan (1957, no. 233)
1
Gracefully
Hey,
ho - ber un
ko
Yen - kl hot es ge - fu -
rn,
nen,
rn,
un
Several different versions exist, the one most people know being by Lillian
Shapero, given in Dvorah Lapsons book. All the sources agree that it belongs
to the later phase of a wedding celebration, when the mood is notably lighthearted. Nathan Vizonsky believed that it was used to welcome the bride into
the fold of married women. Given that relaxed atmosphere, it is but a small leap
to adapt a rather cynical text from Cahans Family Songs sectionreflecting
on how easy it is to fool a prospective bridegroomto a well-established
melody for the Potsh Tants (see the recommended song, below).
As a mixer, the dance provides great fun for families; children enjoy the
clapping and the stamping that goes on. In fact, it can even be performed a
cappella in situations where musical instruments may not be appropriate. Isaac
Rivkind cites a Hasidic belief that the dance was created by Rabbi Zusya of
Hanipoli to be accompanied only by clapping and stampingexpressly teach-
83
84
(VILNA)
Music: Kammen (1937, no. 5)
1
Playfully
Ot,
ot
sakh na - dan,
a - zoy un
zogt im
nit
oy
a - zoy
nart men op
m-git
15
im
Zi
keyn ti - ger.
(clap)
(clap)
nit
a - zoy
nart im
tsu zay - dns ge - bn
(clap)
un git im
Ot a - zoy, ot a - zoy
nart im op,
op
di shvi- ger.
(clap)
nart
im
ku - shn a
ber!
op
der
20
shver.
Er Zogt im tsu
im
9. Polke (Polka)
This is a vivacious couple dance of Bohemian origin, writes Lori Heikkila,
using a basic pattern of hop-step-close, in 2/4 time. It was first introduced
to ballrooms in Prague, 1835. Its Czech namePulkameans half-step,
and refers to the dancers characteristic rapid shift from one foot to another.
(Some sources believe that the later Polish versionechoing this shuffle
was at first performed in a manner that deliberately mocked the way local
peasant girls danced.) It spread throughout the Austro-Hungarian empire
and, by 1840, had reached Paris.
Troy Hawlak theorizes that the Polka caught on so quickly and so universally
because it was a very informal dance that required the two partners to be quite
close! When it arrived in the United States in 1849, reported Thomas Balch in
his book, Philadelphia Assemblies, Breiters Band was prepared for ithaving
already composed and rehearsed a new Polka for that years Assembly.68
68 Philadelphia, then the nations capitol, had shed its plain and simple Quaker
manners and dress right after the Revolutionary War, and by 1849 had been holding
an annual Assembly or Coming-out Ball in a center city hotel for over half a century;
Kate Haulman, Fashion and the Culture Wars of Revolutionary Philadelphia, The
William and Mary Quarterly, 62:4, October 2005.
85
The Polka is one of the few dances originating in the 19th century that has
remained widely popular. To be sure, when Ragtime, Jazz and Swing burst
on the scene early in the 20th century, the Polka did decline for a while.
After World War II, however, with the arrival of Polish immigrants and the
inception of a weekly TV showcase for Polkas provided by Lawrence Welks
Band, interest in this heel and toe and away we go dance with its variance
in style from robust stepping to smooth gliding and ever-happy music picked
up again.
86
(PODOLIA; VILNA)
Words & Music: Cahan (1957, nos. 221. 222)
Bouncy
1
2.
13
di - di dom;
finf
zeks
zi - bn,
Refrain
Bom
ta - da di - di
bom, ta - da di - di
a-zoy vi de ro - ze - ve
bom
ta - da dom,
1.
bom
ta - da di - di
dom.
87
Sheyn iz zi vi a kalineh,
Zis iz zi vi a malineh,
Gut iz zi vi di malke Ester,
Vi a kalleh iz zi di besteh!
Ta ra-ra ram
Ta ra-ra ram
(UKRAINE)
Words & Music: Beregovski (1982, no. 53)
1
Coyly
ra - ra
ay
ra;
13
ta ra - ra ra ra
19
Ta
25
ta - ra ra - ra ra - ra
ra.
ra
Ta ra - ra ram, ta ra - ra ram, ta
ra
ra - ra - ra ra
ram
ra - ra
Ta
ta - ra ra - ra ra - ra
ra ra - ra
ra
ra.
ra
ra - ra.
Fine
ra.
29 1. Shvi - ger,
fe - ln
iz tsu
gut
mir
helf aykh,
frey - er,
tzu di
shnur
shey - ne shnur
88
ge - felt
in
aykh?
shley - er.
Ge -
Dal Segno
al Fine
11. Sher
An old dance of the Eastern European Jewish communities, its name may
derive from sherYiddish for scissorsbecause the crossing movements
of the couples resemble the crossing motion of scissor blades. Dvorah
Lapson therefore speculates that it originated as a Jewish Tailors Guild
dance. The name might also be associated with the traditional cutting off
of the brides hair with a scissors on her wedding day, a custom alluded to
in Judith Brin Ingbers video, Dancing into Marriage.
Nathan Vizonsky claimed that the Sher in its present form seems most
directly influenced by the Quadrille, a square dance of four couples, that was
popular in the courts of European monarchsespecially in Franceduring
the 18th century. In its tempered movements and graceful bowings, the Sher
still retains the trappings of its courtly beginnings. At the same time, its elements are equally representative of the Hasidic devotional attitude known as
dveikut or clinging to God, a gentle hesitance that in other circumstances
could be taken as the shyness which dominated relations between the sexes
in the ghettos. The partners in this dance do not actually join hands, but hold
the opposite corners of a handkerchief.
LeeEllen Friedland70 explains the often-confusing nomenclature of Jewish group dances, especially for the Sher.
70
The group dances generally had simple patterns that encouraged a wide
range of participation. There were two patterns, a circle dance and a
dance in square formation. In many areas the circle dance was called a
Freylekhs; in other areas it was called a Redl [small group]. It was, in all
areas, the dance performed most often. It consisted primarily of everyone
dancing in a circle, every person doing his or her own individual variation
of stepping. A winding snake figure was often introduced, in which the
dance leader would lead the rest of the circle through a series of arches
and then back out those same arches.The dance in square formation was
known as a Sher. Although its configuration resembled that of the Kadril
[Quadrille], dancers have been adamant about the fact that the Sher was
considered a Jewish dance and the Kadril was not a Jewish dance. This is
especially interesting in light of the fact that most of the figures performed
in a Sher are pan-European patterns! In a Sher, figures that involved the
whole groupsuch as circling or a snakewould alternate with figures
that involved the two couples facing opposite each other, such as the two
ladies dancing to the center and crossing over to change partners.
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Formation:
A square formed by four couples, male to the left of the female. Each man
holds in his right hand a handkerchief, which his partner grasps with her
left hand.
The Steps:
Since the Sher is not a fast dance, most people dance it in a sort of shuffling
walking step or in an ordinary walking step, two steps to each bar of the
melody. The steps remain the same throughout, while the choreographical
groupings change.
The Music:
I am not ashamed
Of my secret love
One fine day she will be named
Before the One Above.
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na - yem
sher
vos
iz
a - roys - ge - ku - men,
15
ken tsu
nit
ku - men. Kh
layt
21
ir
1.
volt mit ir far - brakht di tsayt, az key - ner zol nit zeyn;
Ikh
2.
Dance Songs
Instrumentals and Vocals
Klezmer has always meant instrumental music, from its early-17th century
beginnings with Violin/Cimbalom71 duets to modern ensembles consisting
of ten players who alternate between eighteen instruments:72
Accordion
drums
piccolo
alto saxophone
flute
poyk73
baritone saxophone
guitar
tambourine
bass
mandolin
tenor banjo
clarinet
percussion trombone
cornet
piano violin
71 Cimbalom is what the dulcimer was called in Hungary, Romania and Bohemia
(The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Music, 1977: 168.
72 Garnered from Personnel Lists of the Klezmer Conservatory Band, given in
various Klezmershack KCB reviews, Winter 2007-2008.
73 Yiddish: large double-headed bass-drum with a brass cymbal mounted on
top (Michael Alpert, All My Life a Musician, American Klezmer, Mark Slobin, ed.
(Berkeley: University of California press), 2002: 77.
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Like Flamenco, another intensely emotional folk music that was first
playedthen danced and sungKlezmer has undergone a series of evolutionary cycles in which it spiraled closer to popular culture and legitimacy
before being forced to reinvent itself to avoid assimilation and disappearing
for good.74 After World War I, Flamenco was saved by two Spanish folklorists who were also musicians, the writer Federico Garcia Lorca (1898-1936),
and the composer Manuel de Falla (1876-1946). Simultaneously, Klezmer
was rescued by two rival virtuoso clarinetists, Dave Tarras (1897-1989) and
Naftule Brandwein (1884-1963). The impetus of their brilliant playing carried
Klezmer music in the United States until the immigrant generation began to
die out in the 1960sand with it the Yiddish language in which the dances
had been taught by myriad instructorsand the wedding rituals had been
parodied by countless Badkhonim.
As Jason Webster observes concerning Flamenco, salvation came a second
time around for Klezmer in the 1970s, when a younger group of enthusiasts,
spurred by the general renewal of interest in folk music spearheaded by Pete
Seeger, The Weavers, Oscar Brand, Peter Paul & Mary, and other performers
and anthologists. Unfortunately, our analogy ends at the point where the heart
and soul of Flamenco beginswith its deep song (cante jondo)which is
completely foreign to Klezmer, an exclusively instrumental art form despite
the vocals that permeate recent Klezmer recordings.
The Role of Yiddish Dance Songs
Simply put, they fill the gap between Klezmer and folk songs. They cover
seams that might otherwise separate what musicologist Walter Zev Feldman
postulates as Klezmer Genres.75 These are:
the Core Repertoire of Old Style Freylekhs and Shers;
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This continuum was set in motion after the Jewish Enlightenment, says
Feldman, when
it became more common for men to dance with women76 and models for
such music were sought outside of Jewish life. In particular, Roumanian
music grew in popularity after dances such as the Bulgareasca and
Suba became, in effect, dance crazes among Jews at the end of the 19th
century.
Two of thema Bulgar from Minsk (2.) and a Slow Hora from Romania
(10.)are Transitional Repertoire.
Two othersa Laanse from Warsaw (5.) and a Poylke from Podolia
(8.)are Cosmopolitan Repertoire.
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limited to only one for each of the Dance-types discussed above, the 15 songs
are remarkably versatile. Example 3., Soreh rivke, drey zikh durkhn mitl, from
Cahan (no. 217)sung Allegro (metronome mark 120) but played Presto
(M.M. 150)can accompany not only Freylekhs, but also Bulgars, Hopkes
and Kazatskes when it is judiciously ritarded or accelerated. Its melodys A
section opens in G harmonic-minor when ascending (with the F sharped)
and G natural-minor when descending (with the F remaining natural). The
B section moves to G minors relative-major key of B-flat. The C sectionin
the synagogue mode of D-Ahavah-Rabbah (meaning, With Abundant Love;
a major scale on D with E-flat and B-flat)quotes the well known folk song
from the town of Talnoye in the Ukraine: Reb dovidl (Rabbi David, formerly
of Vasilkov, now resides in Talnoye).77
If we carefully examine the tunes and texts presented here, it quickly becomes evident that they epitomize the term, folksong. Motifs repeat in the
music and the poems, in true folk fashion for a given cultural group. These
dance songs emerged from the common usage of a people at play; they were
never intended for concert performance. In fact, the concept of performance
is extraneous to the process by which they evolved. Neither does the label,
Gebrauchmusikmusic composed for a specific usequite fit, for the songs
were never composed; they simply happened over time. As for their lasting
value, Ruth Rubin puts the question in a realistic perspective.
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syllables that a mother made up on the spot and sang to her children as instant
Yiddish nursery rhymes.79
There is also no doubt that some of the resentful patter disguised as dance
instruction in songs like Motl motl (Cahan no. 219, a Laanse)80 or Soreh-rivkeh
(Cahan no. 217, a Freylekhs) were reflective of a social dynamic peculiar to
Yiddish-speaking Jews whod recently emerged from a cloistered existence
that might be described as medieval. Lyrics such as, [Women] can twirl the
whole night through, but to pay the band they havent a clue, reveal an evident naivet about the way things really work in the modern world (Hayntike
meydelekh, Cahan, no. 245, a Mazurka).
The dance songs under discussion lie much closer to folksong than to
Klezmer music which, as Helen Winkler observes, had no vocals whatsoever
Traditional Klezmer bands had the Badkhn, but he didnt sing for the dancing.
She concludes that songs collected by ethnographers like Beregovski, Cahan,
Mlotek and Rubin were most probably used in the home or in smaller social
gatherings, rather than weddings. Dvorah Lapson concurs:
This appellation perfectly suited the place (dedicated and secure) and time
(the weekly Sabbath). The Joc is an old Roumanian circle dance, similar in
pace (slow) and mood (solemn) to the Yiddish Roumanian Hora, though in
4/4 rather than 3/8 time. The feeling of sameness in both is imparted by a
delayed trillor a delayed accentin each measure of the Joc.82
Finally, readers who detect a soupon of misogyny mixed into the English
lyrics, are assured that an effort was made to paint all players in these J-dating
games a bit outlandishlyyet appealingly. From the Broyges Tantss quarelling
couple (Perhaps we should seek some professional advice) through Rivkah
79 Ibid. P. 184.
80 Cahans endnote to this song is revealing: A dance-improvisation, with bitingly humorous remarks regarding a Laanse.
81 The dancing would have been accompanied by a cappella singing, given the
rabbinic prohibition against playing instruments on the Sabbath; Dvorah Lapson, s.
v., Sabbath Dances, Encyclopedia Judaica (Jerusalem: Keter), 1972: 1267.
82 An video of this Roumanian dance is accessible at folkdancemusic/jJoc
BatrinescVideoSeminar Ulm 1998Brbel & Jacques Lonneaux.
95
and Yenkel among the barley and milletwho are made for each othernot
like sister and brother, to the rapacious father of the groom whose daughterin-law, gentle as a feline pretty as a fox, would summarily box his ears if
ever he stepped out of linethe lads and lassies (and old bucks) who cavort
without end in these slightly naughty musical rompsall seem to know the
score, even if their footwork might need a bit of attention.
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97
persist in being negative, it would mean that the past would forever scar the
present.
The Folk Songs of Ashkenaz, a volume of folk songs whose variants are
Jewish and German, poses the German and the Jewish questions too, but it
employs a body of empirical evidence and a set of perspectives on history
that the public debates at centurys end do not. Historically, the German and
Jewish questions took as their point of departure that Jews and non-Jews in
Germany not only practiced different religions, but lived in different societies
and affiliated themselves with myth, history, and the nation-state in vastly
different ways. The debates remained so fixed on difference that the possibility
of cultural traditions in common was beyond consideration.
The songs gathered in The Folk Songs of Ashkenaz provide clear evidence
that there were rapprochement and a common culture shared by Germans
and Jews. The question posed by the songs in the volume is not about difference and dual identities, as postulated by Franz Rosenzweigs Zweistromland,
land of two rivers, or in Hebrew, naharayim, but rather about an historical
and geographical folk-song landscape produced by the many tributaries of
a single river. The identities these songs document, or at least represent as
traces, did not necessarily fall into German and Jewish components, but were
remarkably more complex. The versions of these songsthe tributaries of
this vast river on the cultural geography of Ashkenazreveal common cul
ture at the everyday level. They reveal that song was occasionally common to
Judaism and Christianity. They narrate the attempts to transform Jewish folk
song into a language for staking out positions in nineteenth-and-twentiethcentury Bildungsbrgertum, the educated middle-and-upper-middle class
that opened new paths of emancipation for Jews in Central Europe. These
songs also lay bare the complex contradictions of prejudice and anti-Semitism
and the inscription of Otherness.
The songs in this volume, then, reveal that there was a common culture,
made of fragments, shared repertories and practices, and occasional moments
of rapprochement and leveled differences, even if there was ultimately no
culture of commonality. The collection gathers songs from specific places
and times, and to the extent it has been possible, it endeavors to identify who
the individuals were that sang the songs, collected and transcribed them, and
published them within specific contexts. No individual version or variant
stands for an entire repertory or song family, but rather it offers one type of
evidence, a fragment or thread. The volume does not represent the whole
of Ashkenazic folk song in some sweeping sense. Instead, it is organized in
98
such a way as to illumine some of the ways in which parts were connected to
create a whole: historically speaking, probably several wholes.
If we speak of the fragments and threads of a common culture, we do not
wish to suggest that these deny the conditions and tragedies of dual identities.
The seams and ruptures that produce dual identities are hardly invisible in the
anthologys songs. Many of the songs probably circulated between Jewish and
non-Jewish communities in spite of the seams and ruptures, which therefore
makes the common culture of which they were a part even more complex
and remarkable. The authors do not wish to claim that the folk songs in this
anthology answer the German and Jewish questions, but they do believe
that the songs provide evidence for posing those questions in new, perhaps
more nuanced, ways. Their answers, like those offered at the beginning of
the twenty-first century at an historical moment of renewed passion for the
questions, insist that the crucial lesson of these questions lies in posing them
repeatedly. The lasting value of the German and Jewish questions lies not in
settling their answers, but rather in being unsettled by their answers.
Ashkenaz
If one looks in a modern Hebrew-English dictionary, the single definition
offered for the entry Ashkenaz is simply Germany. The Germany in that
entry is not the modern nation-state of Germany, with Berlin as its capital city;
that Germany is referred to as Germaniah in modern Hebrew. Ashkenaz
is another Germany, historically situated, but not in the present, or even in
the modern era of European history. Searching again in the modern HebrewEnglish dictionary under Ashkenazi, an individual living in Ashkenaz, one
finds two meanings: German and Eastern European Jew. Lexicographically, separating a German from an Eastern European Jew is not possible. The
meanings may seem to be geographically contradictory, but etymologically
they overlap. And this is precisely the case with their folk songs.
The term Ashkenaz appeared first in the Bible, where it refers to both
people and places. In Genesis 10:3, Ashkenaz is one of the sons of Gomer,
hence a grandson of Noah. Elsewhere, there are references to a place, even a
kingdom of Ashkenaz (e.g., Jeremiah 51:27-28), which lay between Assyria
and Armenia, in other words, in a border region that would today include
northern Iran and the southern Caucasus. During the first century C.E., in the
diaspora that dates from the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 C.E. and
includes the inscription of the Babylonian Talmud, the location of Ashkenaz
shifted from western Asia to Europe. The exact location of Ashkenaz in Tal-
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mudic sources of the first millennium is not fixed, but it inevitably includes
regions settled by Germanic tribes, in both Scandinavia and Germany. By the
beginning of the second millennium C.E., however, the geographical identity
of Ashkenaz has become fixed, for it increasingly refers, for example in the
commentaries of the great eleventh-century religious authority, Rashi, to the
Jewish communities of the Rhine valley, especially those near the centers of
administration for the Holy Roman Empire: Worms and Mainz.
In Hebrew writings of the High Middle Ages, Ashkenaz increasingly
ascribes a distinction of selfness to the Jews of Germany; various writings
concern themselves with the atrocities against the Ashkenazim committed
during the crusades. By the end of the European Middle Ages, in other words
by the fifteenth century, Ashkenaz possessed a double meaning, not only
describing the intensive Jewish settlements of the Rhine valley, but the areas
in which Jews spoke a Germanic language. Historically, this is the point at
which The Folk Songs of Ashkenaz picks up its story.
It was also in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries that Jews from the
Rhine valley, fleeing massacre and persecution, migrated eastward into the
regions of Eastern Europe. They brought with them many of their religious
traditions, among them traditions of Ashkenazic prayer and liturgy (i.e., a
distinctively Ashkenazic religious discourse), and the vernacular language of
medieval German communities: Middle High German. As emigrants from
the land of Ashkenaz and bearers of culture from Ashkenaz, the Jews of Eastern Europe were increasingly referred to as Ashkenazim. During the early
modern era, especially in response to the spread of Jews expelled from the
Iberian Peninsula in 1492, who settled on the European and North African
littorals thereafter and acquired the name Sephardim (lit. Spaniards), the
distinction between Ashkenazic and Sephardic cultures became culturally
more pronounced, forming the essential dichotomy between European and
Mediterranean/Middle Eastern Jewish communities. Later in the modern
era the boundaries of Ashkenaz were increasingly fixed to the larger region
of Central and Eastern Europe, and in this region Jews spoke vernaculars
derived from Middle High German. But for various reasons, not least among
them administrative, they also acquired fluency in modern literary German,
that is, High German.
If the external boundaries of Ashkenaz lent themselves to clearer definition by the era of European modernity, the internal boundaries were more
indistinct and fluid than ever. The vernacular languages-and the presence of
vernacular language in folk culturewere incredibly varied, bearing many
different relations to High German and modern literary Yiddish. These lan-
100
guages were still inchoate in Jewish communities at the end of the eighteenth
century. Ashkenazic culture, it follows, was a mosaic of local forms far more
than a single landscape with larger Central and Eastern European regions.
The distinction between East and West followed the German Enlightenment
(Aufklrung), but alsoand very significantlythe Jewish Enlightenment
(Haskalah), which itself followed different paths in German-and-Yiddishspeaking Europe. The responses to modernity were, therefore, all Ashkenazic,
if indeed they revealed the increasingly disparate responses to modernity
that would also lead to a proliferation of folk-song repertories and traditions.
Some responses to the variant folk-song traditions exaggerated the differences
within Ashkenaz. Others celebrated those differences, and still others sought
ways in which rapprochement might eliminate tendencies toward divisiveness
and usher in a new era of common culture in Ashkenaz.
Ontologies of Ashkenazic Folk Song
Just as the historical and geographical concepts of Ashkenaz accommodate
a multitude of identities, so, too, do the ontologies of Ashkenazic folk song
that emerge from the book. The folk song of Ashkenaz has historically assumed many forms, and each form of Ashkenazic folk song embodies many
identities. What Ashkenazic folk song is, then, depends on many variables
and the ways in which they interact. Some of the variables that constitute a
given repertory or song-type might result from sameness (e.g., variants of
the same song in a linguistically and culturally unified region as in the case of
Ryti-Rssli-Lied,), while others may result from the juxtaposition of variables
that are different or even distinct in essential ways (e.g., related melodies that
appear with entirely) unrelated texts, as in the melodies for Frau von Weissenburg. Similarity and difference may fuse in some songs, while in others
they may enter into competition. The ontologies of Ashkenazic folk song,
therefore, result from the processes that allow individuals and communities,
performers and audiences, to accommodate and respond to the complex
patterns of identity that are themselves evident in the identity of each song,
variant, and repertory.
Because the ontology of Ashkenazic folk song bears witness to multiple
identities, the theoretical framework of this volume rests on the premise that
the Jewish and non-Jewish cultures of Ashkenazic Europe were not isolated
from each other. There were pre-modern, early modern, and modern conditions that tended to produce separationthe medieval Judengasse (lit. street
of the Jews) on the outskirts of the medieval village or city, the ghetto of late
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102
103
throughout Central and Eastern Europe, and these, too, contained musical
cultures that responded to the relative degrees of isolation from or interaction with non-Jewish neighbors. Jewish village life also responded to the
rapid urbanization of Europe in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries,
with shtetl dwellers from the Austro-Hungarian Empire moving to the urban
centers, where Jewish populations swelled, but often in specific districts or
neighborhoods, which in turn sustained the cultural geography of the village.
The shtetl gave way to the ghetto, and the cultural geography of modernity
formed along the historical paths connecting the traditionally rural places in
Ashkenazic Europe to the increasingly urban.
Diaspora, too, contributed to the mapping of a cultural geography of Ashkenazic folk song. The historical discourses of Ashkenaz were shaped by a
recognition that the German-and-Yiddish-speaking Jews of Europe did not
live in the Land of Israel. Folk song absorbed this recognition of diaspora,
for example, by sustaining song variants in Hebrew and German or Yiddish;
in other words, the languages of a diasporic and a non-diasporic people.
Diaspora left its imprint on the cultural geography of modern Jewish folk
song, not least the continued expansion of diaspora through mass-migrations
to North America from the late nineteenth century to World War I, and later
as responses to European persecution and the Holocaust. The cultural geography of Ashkenazic folk song, then, expanded the idea of diaspora to include
specific places in American cities (e.g., the Lower East Side of New York City)
and the settlements taking root in Palestine (e.g., the kibbutzim).
German folk song, too, was inseparable from a vocabulary imbued with
strong connections to place and to literal, metaphorical, and discursive cultural geographies. No geographical metaphor affixed itself more powerfully
to the spread of German culture into Eastern Europe than the Sprachinsel,
or speech island. The Sprachinsel, as its name made clear, was a place of
isolation, created as a concept that described the survival of the German
language and culture in regions surrounded by non-Germans, for example,
the Siebenbrgen and Banat settlements of Romania or the so-called Volga
Colonies. Like the shtetl, the Sprachinsel increasingly became the stage for
stereotype. As a discursive cultural geography, it plays a role in The Folk Songs
of Ashkenaz not unlike the role played by the shtetl.
It is also significant that the cultural geography of emigration, at least
obliquely comparable to diaspora, plays an important role in the collection.
Many of the song collections, historical and ethnographic, upon which the
authors have drawn for the edition, come from the periphery rather than the
center of a larger German folk-song tradition. Accordingly, they have been
104
shaped by history and geography in ways not unlike those shaping Jewish folk
song within the cultural geography of Ashkenazic Europe.
Even more crucial than the distinctive German and Jewish cultural geographies represented by the songs in the volume is what is called the cultural
geography of Jewish betweenness. The map of betweenness highlights
border regions and regions that overflow historical and political boundaries. Betweenness results not from isolation in shtetls or speech islands, but
emerges in zones of exchange and hybridity. The cultural geography of Jewish
betweenness depend: on historical and political realities such as the Habsburg
monarchy which comprised the larger region known today as Mitteleuropa
and which included the most intensively Jewish areas of Ashkenazi Europe.
Whereas cultures of betweenness may form along borders, they also tend to
negate the divisive impact of borders, increasing instead the possibility for a
new common culture. The conditions that supported common culture were
also those that created the places in which German and Yiddish folk song
intersected, and, accordingly, they are particularly important for the cultural
geography of betweenness that the folk songs in the book represent.
Folk Song and the Common Culture of Border Regions
Border regions dominate the cultural geography represented by the folk
songs of Ashkenaz. These border regions range from those created by political boundaries, topographical boundaries, linguistic boundaries, historical
boundaries, and, perhaps most often, all of these. Whereas such boundaries
would seem to divide repertories and traditions of folk song into distinct parts,
just the opposite has taken place in those border regions where Yiddish and
German, Jewish and non-Jewish folk songs have formed from the threads of a
common culture. The possibility of a common culture, particularly in border
regions where it is unexpected, is critical to the larger narrative of The Folk
Songs of Ashkenaz, for it is not simply enough to identify songs that happen
to exist in German and Yiddish variants. There were reasons that encouraged
exchange and shared repertories. These reasons were specific to the places
where common cultures themselves took shape, where linguistic and regional
differences blurred, and where religious and cultural differences were not
debilitatingly divisive.
The border regions from which many of these songs came were of very
different kinds, and accordingly, so too were the common cultures. One of
the border regions most frequently plumbed in the anthology formed along
the northeast frontier of the Austro-Hungarian empire, consisting of two
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106
Border regions were also the products of modernity and urbanizing Jewish communities. If the applicability of the notion of a border is somewhat
different in the cases of urban Jewish districts such as the Scheunenviertel in
Berlin or the Leopoldstadt in Vienna, these districts nonetheless became the
crucibles for a common culture precisely at the metropolitan border crossed
when rural Jews entered the city. The music of these urban common cultures
is best recognized in the new genres of folk-like and popular music, for example the Viennese broadsides that constitute the anthologys Group 16. In
the urban border regions, common culture underwent dizzying change, but
music responded quickly and decisively to that change.
In the longue dure, the border regions separating Ashkenazic from
Sephardic Europe also played a role in shaping the common culture of Ashkenazicand, of course, Sephardicfolk song. The Ashkenazic-Sephardic
border regions are, moreover, vital to the larger narrative of the volume. There
were significant bastions of Sephardic musical culture in both the northwest
(stretching from the Netherlands to Hamburg) and the southeast (primarily
the Balkans) of Ashkenazic Europe, and these areas possessed all the functions
of border regions. The nineteenth-century transformation of Ashkenazic liturgical music, for example, was particularly indebted to Sephardic influences.
In some of the more localized Jewish border regions of the Austro-Hungarian
Empire, notably Burgenland, from which many songs and variants in the collection have come, Sephardic influences unleashed complex forms of Jewish
interethnicity. The folk song from such border regions with Sephardic populations reveals that Ashkenazic Europe had permeable Jewish boundaries,
which more often encouraged than stifled musical border-crossing.
Any attempt to identify the common culture from which Ashkenazic folk
music formed, especially from the mid-nineteenth until the mid-twentieth
century, cannot ignore the questions of diaspora and immigration. Jewish
immigrants to North America, for example, shaped distinctively American
Jewish music cultures, such as the Yiddish musical-theater scene in New
York City or the transformation of liturgy in the Reform movement. Zionist
settlements in Palestine aggressively laid the foundations for modern Jewish
song, taking what was necessary from Ashkenazic traditions and recasting it in
Hebrew. Historically, immigrant settlements in North America and Palestine
demonstrated all the earmarks of border regions, and in the second half of
the twentieth century it was in these settlements that the modern common
culture of Ashkenazic Europe gave way to that of a post-Holocaust world.
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dents, we discover vast differences between and among the villages or within
specific villages. The Seven Holy Cities (sheva kehillot) of Burgenland, for
example, could claim Sephardic and Ashkenazic residents, as could Vienna,
some fifty kilometers away (Bohlman 1997). Within the villages, moreover,
varying degrees of observance split the Jewish communities into different
ethnic alignments, as did the variety of vernaculars, which ranged from
German and Yiddish in multiple dialects to Slovak and Hungarian. The folk
songs in this volume often thematize such ethnic tensions, which at times
dramatically illustrate the complex multi-ethnic Jewish culture of rural and
urban Ashkenaz.
In this study, cultural and ethnic diversity is assumed as a background for
focusing on folk song as a component of the common culture of Ashkenaz.
Granted, of course, that pairing diversity and common culture seems on its
surface to be contradictory. Crucial to the authors argument, and ultimately
to their theory, however, is that diversity actually encouraged exchange. They
have drawn on the theoretical work of several scholars, notably Ingeborg
Weber-Kellermann (1978) and E. P. Thompson (1991), both of whom have
contributed extensively to the literature on interethnicity and customs
in common, in both cases from modified Marxian perspectives. WeberKellermann has examined the processes of exchange that characterize folk
music in Southeastern Europe, arguing with very convincing empirical
evidence that folk-song traditions flow back and forth between the Germanspeaking communities of Sprachinseln and the Slavic-or-Romanian-speaking
neighbors. Indeed, every aspect of folk musiclanguage, symbolism, musical
structureis subject to negotiation and transformation.
Thompson brings a more strictly historical approach to the emergence
of the English working class in the eighteenth century, arguing that a new
culture took shape because the customs in common made it possible for
rural and urban workers to respond in similar ways to industrialization, to
growing literacy and the spread of print culture, and to the restructuring of
English society through the Enlightenment. Folk music plays a particularly
important role for both Weber-Kellermann and Thompson, providing not
only a cultural commodity with new exchange value, but also a specific and
palpable vocabulary for the common cultures of Southeastern Europe and
the English working class.
The songs in the present volume reveal that exchange across cultural, ethnic,
religious, and linguistic boundaries also accompanied the entry of Ashkenazic
Jews into the public sphere of early-modern and modern Europe. It is not the
books aim, however, to claim that this entry was widely successful or that it
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in any sense leveled boundaries. It is not claiming that a common Jewish and
non-Jewish culture was ever achieved, even exceptionally, but rather that folk
song comprised a tentative, if occasionally flourishing, locus of common cul
ture. Exchange took place from song to song, when one repertory enriched
itself by drawing upon traditions shared with another. Each of the twentyseven song groups in this volume documents different sites and processes for
the formation of common culture, again contributing to the theoretical point
that diversity is the precondition for common culture. It was also the case
that the many forms of common culture documented by these songs may well
have precluded more extensive forms of rapprochement. But recognition of
that fact can only sharpen the analytical tools that lead us to the real sites of
common culture and the folk songs of Ashkenaz sung at those sites.
Sites and and Stages for Ashkenazic Folk song
The places in which Ashkenazic folk song was sung, performed, collected and
published were very specific. These places. moreover, fall into two general
categories: private spaces and public spaces. Folk songs private spaces were
occupied by the family, by children playing together, by ritual and custom in
the home, and by local religious communities. Because the folk songs in this
anthology acquire some measure of their cultural importance through religion
and identity, it might seem reasonable to presume that the private sphere
would actually dominate the volume. This is not entirely the case. Among the
forms of expressive activity occupying the public spaces of Ashkenazic folk
song were the dances accompanied by klezmer bands, the Yiddish theater of
Eastern Europe, Jewish mens singing societies in Central Europe, and the small
stage for couplets and cabaret in the growing metropolises. In contrast to the
private sphere, the public seems more modern, less unequivocally Jewish, and
more properly serving the performance of popular rather than folk song.
This, too, is not entirely the case.
Whereas private and public spheres are both evident in this collection,
they rarely stand apart. More often than not, songs move between them,
and that movement maps historical change onto the folk-song landscape
of Ashkenaz. There are several reasons why the distinction between private
and public is important, even if it does not form a neat dichotomy. First of
all, folk song, though it may depend on the intimacy of the private sphere,
often bears the public with it when circulating within the private spaces of
the home. The synagogue, whose musical life exclusively embodies liturgy
and ritual, for example, exemplifies many traits of the private. Yet, when new
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melodies enter the music of the synagogue, it is often the result of pressures
coming from the public sphere, be these the changing role of the cantor, or be
they new repertories accompanying Reform in nineteenth-century Germany.
In quite different ways, the revival of Yiddish folk song at several historical
moments (e.g., in Germany between the world wars or in North America in
the decades after the Holocaust) relies on stereotyped images of the private
sphere: songs that accompany rites of passage; play songs; songs that narrate
the integration and disintegration of the family.
The transformation of print culture in modern European Jewish culture
also recalibrated the relation between private and public. Broadsides introduced (and reintroduced) folk songs into an increasingly cosmopolitan Jewish
society, bridging the gap between public performance and private consumption of songs. The broadsides and couplets gathered as the sixteenth group
in this volume, for example, expose complex processes of exchange between
the new Jewish popular-music stage and changing Jewish neighborhoods in
Vienna. The explosion in the number of Jewish literary journals, too, combined private and public in new ways, for example, when Der Jude or Ost und
West included sections with folk songs, some meant to look authentically
Yiddish and Eastern European, others arranged for piano and solo voice, as
if best suited for performance in the intimate literary salon. The folk song of
Ashkenaz, therefore, juxtaposes the private and public, thereby creating new
repertories that mix stability and change.
The exchange between private and public is not without agency, and the
agents whose activities set in motion the historical processes documented
by the present volume are very clear. Many of the songs bear witness in one
way or another to specialized musicians. There are cantors and village church
musicians, choir directors and rabbis, school teachers and intellectuals.
There are also semi-professional and professional musicians, ranging from
klezmer players to the troupes who brought couplets to the nascent Jewish
cabaret stages of the fin de-sicle metropolis. Finally, there are the collectors
themselves, whose activities and whose imprint should not be overlooked
in this volume. All these agents encountered the folk music of Ashkenaz in
sites of private and public music-making, and they gathered, performed, and
transcribed these traditions in such ways that they would represent German
and Yiddish folk-song traditions in decisively modern ways. Each performance
and each edition redefined the historical trajectory of songs traveling between
the private and the public, transforming the sites and stages of Ashkenazic
folk song itself.
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112
The intersecting axis of Hebrew variants also includes more than a single
language, for not all Hebrew texts are the same. The Hebrew texts that enter the vernacular tradition in Europe, especially in Eastern Europe, utilize
Ashkenazic pronunciation, whereas those that enter the tradition in Israel
reflect the linguistic reforms that have transformed modern Israeli Hebrew
and Israeli liturgical repertories to reflect Sephardic pronunciations. Such
distinctions are evident in the variants of Yavo Adir and Tsur Mi-shelo.
The historical axis of the linguistic continuum has unfolded in parallel
with the entry of Ashkenazic Jewish society into European modernity. At
the earliest stage of that history, prior to the advent of printing and to the
major pogroms and emigrations of Ashkenazic Jews from Central Europe
in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, it may well have been the case that
the vernaculars of a Germanic language spoken by Jews and non-Jews in
the Rhineland were closely related, or at least that the distinctions between
them were blurry. The entry into modernity begins with a second phase, the
evidence for which comes from the earliest printed collections. Graf von
Rom survives as one of the clearest pieces of empirical evidence for early
modern Ashkenaz, for the song appears in a sixteenth-century version with
Hebrew characters, which nonetheless adheres closely to the printed versions of late Middle High German (Mittellhochdeutsch), albeit with overtly
Christian references expurgated. The printed Hebrew version, therefore, is
not yet a Yiddish version, though there are some telling signs of its shift away
from Middle High German.
In the German Enlightenment (Aufklrung) and Jewish Enlightenment
(Haskalah) of the eighteenth century, the gap between Low and High languages, vernacular and printed versions, widened at an ever increasing rate.
The languages of folk-song collections either responded to the processes of
modernization, or they resisted them, retaining the markers of dialect and the
vernacular. In the course of the nineteenth century, the languages of German
and Yiddish folk song responded to the influences of both Romanticism and
Nationalism. Canonic repertories of songs in the literary language developed,
such as the German Ballade, or ballad. As Jewish national consciousness
grew along with Zionism in the second half of the nineteenth century, a
canon of Yiddish folk songs emerged to give voice to a type of national song.
It was not until roughly the turn of the past century that the term Yiddish
was used exclusively to name the vernacular language of Eastern Ashkenaz,
which was referred to by names such as the common Jdischdeutsch, literally Jewish-German.
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By World War I, the language of Ashkenazic folk song had become relatively standardized, not least because individual songs and collections were
appearing in print in relatively large numbers. The Holocaust, however, would
undo the transformation of vernaculars in Ashkenazic folk songs, for the
destruction of European Jewry would eliminate the possibility for oral transmission, and alter the relation between oral and written transmission. After
the Holocaust, the collectors of Yiddish folk song attempted to bring about
a form of discursive survival. Memory and the politics of memory, therefore,
provided new contexts for the ways in which Yiddish song provided a font
for revivalists in Central and eastern Europe. German singers rediscovered
Yiddish as a Germanic language, and they approached the language with the
fervor of Wiedergutmachung (literally, making things good again), as if
to atone for the Holocaust through song. Yiddish songs, therefore, entered
German repertories again, with revival extending and altering the historical axis of the linguistic continuum that the songs in this collection map on
post-Holocaust Ashkenazic Europe.
Ashkenazic Folk Musicians
With the rise of modernity that followed the Haskalah, new forms of musical professionalism began to tranform the landscape of Askenazic folk song.
Whereas there had been musical specialists in the Jewish communities of
Central and Eastern Europe prior to the Haskalah, their specialtiesand,
hence, their degree of professionalizationhad not been solely or even
primarily limited to the performance of folk music. The professionalization
of musicians performing Ashkenazic folk music accompanied the economic
transformation of the Jewish community and the growing social interaction
with non-Jewish European society that made the transformation possible.
For example, financial records in the northern Italian court of Mantua, as
well as contracts and petitions of various kinds, reveal that the late Renaissance Jewish composer Salamone Rossi (ca. 1570-ca. 1628) performed with
various ensembles within and outside the Jewish community, thus encouraging scholars to designate him the first professional Jewish musician of early
modern Europe, perhaps even a proto-klezmer musician.
By the eighteenth century, the Jewish communities in many areas of
German-speaking Europe were required to make their financial records available, in part as a means of extracting more taxes, but also in part to liberalize
interaction between Jews and non-Jewish governments. These records, too,
indicate the presence of Jewish specialist musicians, for example, those with
designations such as cantor (probably a synagogue hazzan) and musikant
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115
Other others also joined Jews in the ensembles that accompanied the
expansion of professional music making. The most notable of musicians
from outside the mainstream were Roma (Gypsies), who were particularly
evident in ensembles in border regions such as Burgenland and the Carpathian
Mountains in Romania, where large populations of Jews and Roma cohabited
the same folk-song landscapes. In such areas, it is impossible to think about
klezmer, or Jewish instrumental music, without also recognizing that Roma
musicians were contributing to it. Similarly, Jewish musicians were often
active players in professional Roma ensembles. Growing specialization and
professionalization therefore, were inseparable from intensified hybridization,
and all of these processes of change characterized the Ashkenazic folk-song
landscape presented in this collection.
Anti-Semitism and the Language of Modern Ashkenazic Folk Song
There is a truly remarkable play of images, stereotypes, and symbolic representations of numerous Others in the folk songs of Ashkenaz. Several of the
genres that appear in this volume have historically depended on stereotype;
others have survived in oral tradition or in the traces of written tradition
because of the durability of stereotyped images. Some stereotypes seem to
belong fully to the common culture of both Jewish and non-Jewish repertories.
For example, the exotic representation of Africans in the third song, Zehn
kleine Negerlein, spills over into much more pervasive forms of European
prejudice and racism. Other stereotypes, however, depend on more localized forms of prejudice and racism, not least those forms that constitute the
profound presence of anti-Semitism in the European history this collection
documents.
The folk songs of Ashkenaz, therefore, have not mapped a path of cultural
history that somehow circumvents anti-Semitism. Quite the contrary, these
songs bear witness to the complex ways in which anti-Semitism came to
shape European discourses of otherness. Already at the advent of print culture
and the publication of broadsides in the sixteenth century, folk songs drew
upon the stereotyped images (e.g., in woodcuts or engravings accompanying broadsides) and descriptions (i.e., in song texts) of Jews. Particularly at
historical moments of tension between Jewish and non-Jewish communities,
anti-Semitism assumed the form of a flagrantly racist imagery. Characteristically, those moments, in which Jews might be gaining entry into the public
sphere and enjoying greater success there, spawned a proliferation of anti-
116
Semitism. The couplet tradition at the turn of the past century, for example,
was notable for the dissemination of songs with anti-Semitic contents.
Stereotypes also appeared in Jewish songs, and there, too, they formulated different languages for representing and then inscribing otherness.
The otherness historically encoded in Ashkenazic folk songs emerged from
the social and religious fissures implicit in the songs in this volume: East
and West; Yiddish and German vernaculars; secular and religious Jews; or
tradition-bound and acculturated communities. Some stereotypes expressed
an attempt to understand coreligionists more fully, even to use folk song as
a means of bridging the fissures; this was unquestionably the case with the
bilingual anthologies published between the world wars (e.g., Eliasberg 1918;
Kaufmann 1971; Nadel 1923).
Other stereotypes depended on self-hatred, functioning to distance one
community, usually that with more social mobility, from the other. As the
Viennese broadsides reveal, the prejudice that appeared in such songs may
have wantonly crossed the border into a domain marked by anti-Semitism. It
may well be that one explanation for such forms of prejudice and anti-Semitism
is that the genres their creators and performers employed (e.g., couplets and
cabaret) depended on parody, and parody by its nature communicates by
means of stereotype. Still, there can be no question that stereotype, prejudice,
and anti-Semitism produced images and stylized languages within folk song
that were recurrent in the common culture of Ashkenaz, proving it to be not
only complex but contradictory.
Between the German and Jewish Questionsan Ashkenazic Question?
The 1920s were a heady, almost frenzied time for the Jews of Ashkenaz. World
War I had been devastating in its impact on Europe, but it had nonetheless
created several palpable openings in the old imperial public culture, that
would prove fruitful for the Jewish citizens of Central and Eastern Europe
who had served with distinction on all sides of the Great War. In Weimar
Germany, Jewish cultural activities would accelerate so decisively that some
were sufficiently emboldened to speak of a Jewish Renaissance, reaching
back to a moment in European cultural history, or a New Babylon, drawing
on a much earlier moment in Jewish cultural history. In the imperial capital
of the imploded Habsburg monarchy, too, the cultural revolutions ignited
by Jews at the turn of the century would explode and resonate with their
public political presence in Red Vienna. In the new communist regime of
the Soviet Union, too, a moment of Jewish cultural efflorescence swept into
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public life with the winds of reform and rebirth. For the Jewish communities
in many areas of Central and Eastern Europe, it seemed as if the promises of
cultural rapprochement, which had proceeded only in fits and starts in the
nineteenth century, might be fulfilled.
The acceleration towards rapprochementbetween German-and- Yiddishspeaking Jews, between Jews and non-Jewsfound an increasingly audible
voice in Jewish folk song. Already in the final years of World War I and then
in even greater numbers during the 1920s, collections of ostjdisch and
Yiddish folk songs were appearing in rapid succession, providing staples for
several emerging Jewish publishers in Germany, such as Schocken and Jdischer Verlag. Collections with new folk songs, including those in modern
Hebrew, documented traditions from all regions of Ashkenazic Europe and
extended those regions to the yishuv in mandatory Palestine and secondgeneration settlements in the New World, especially the urban centers of
the United States. Jewish composers, too, perceived in Jewish folk songs
new possibilities for investing the language of folk identity with the impulse
of national identity. Throughout the 1920s and into the 1930s, Jewish folk
song occupied an increasingly central position in a public discourse about
Jewishness in music and music in Jewish Europe.
If in the 1920s there seemed to be signs of a final rapprochement between
the various sides of the Jewish question, the 1930s would divert European
Jewish history along a dramatically different route. By the mid-1930s the narrowing of differences, that hopeful praise of renaissance in the 1920s, had all
but ceased. By Kristallnacht in November 1938 and then with the outbreak
of World War II, new answers to the Jewish question were unequivocally
scripted. And these answers bore little resemblance toone might say they
even mockedthose proposed by Jewish folk-song collections in their effort
to represent the accelerating pace of modern Jewish history in Europe.
This edition of songs from Ashkenazic Europe, a musical landscape occupied by both Jews and non-Jews, who sometimes lived in close cultural and
geographic proximity to each other, has gathered empirical evidence that leads
us again to the Jewish question and to its twenty-first-century counterpart, the
German question, along routes not yet charted by modern cultural historians,
ethnomusicologists, and folklorists. The authors decidedly do not propose to
answer either the German or the Jewish question, nor do they suggest that
they be re-posed. Their aim has been to explore their inner workings and
broaden their dimensions. Their hope is that the book contributes a new form
of empirical evidence and suggests new forums for debating these questions.
They remain of the opinion that posing the questions incessantly and critically
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119
Introduction
The foregoing quotes encapsulate the extraordinary death, revival and transformation of East European Jewry and its popular music in the 20th century.
Traditional instrumental (klezmer) music has undergone a remarkable worldwide revival in the last 30 years, bringing in its wake a smaller revival of songs
in Yiddish, the principal vernacular of East European Jewry. In the rich legacy
of Yiddish songs that has been reclaimed, one major sub-genre has been overlooked: religious songs. And although Yiddish as a spoken language has been
preserved among Hasidim here and around the world, and as an educational
1
Editors note: The data for this article was researched from the late 1980s
to the late 1990s, and the bulk of it is extracted from the unpublished thesis Janet
Leuchter submitted in 1999 as part of her Masters project for the School of Sacred
Music at Hebrew Union College in New York. For a note about the subsequent use
of this researched data and an updated view, please see the Epilogue at the end of this
article.
2
Noyekh Prilutski, Yiddishe Folkslider, vol. 1 (Warsaw: Farlag Bikher-far-Alle),
1911, from The Forward.
3 Mark Slobin, Studying the Yiddish Folksong, Journal of Jewish Music and
Liturgy 6 (1983-84): 10.
4
Mark Kligman, The Media and the Message: The Recorded Music of Brooklyns
Orthodox Jews, Jewish Folklore and Ethnology Review 16, no. 1 (1994): 9-11.
120
121
rial in two different categories: 1) customs and beliefs, which she further
delineates as songs about the Sabbath, the Messiah, superstitions and death,
Bible heroes, as well as mixed-language songs; and 2) Chasidic melody and
song. The two anthologies of Vinaver,11 one of Jewish and one of Hassidic
music, are both devoted entirely to religious material. Dov and Meir Noy,12
in their publication of songs collected before the War by S.Z. Pipe, divide the
religious material between religious and national songs and songs for the
festivals and holidays. In their second popular collection, Eleanor Gordon
Mlotek and Joseph Mlotek13 scatter religious songs among humorous songs
and songs for celebrations and parties, our beloved Rabbi, and songs of
survival and national aspiration. In their third volume,14 religious songs can
be found under the renamed category of hassidic and national songs, as well
as under songs in a quiet and reflective mood and songs of the Holocaust.
In his second volume of Hasidic songs, Velvel Pasternak15 includes a songs in
Yiddish category (which also contains an Hungarian and a Russian song).
So how shall we define religious songs? For the purposes of this article,
I am defining religious folksong as is customary: though the texts subject
matterrather than through musical traits or performance context. Excluded
are those whose composer is known, except if it has become folklorized, such
as songs attributed to Rabbi Levi Yitzkhak of Berdichev. Somewhat arbitrarily
but simply to narrow the field down, I also exclude the following categories:
songs about or for use on holidays and weddings, and ballads about love
and topical subjects, even though many of their texts include entreaties to
God and statements embodying religious beliefs such as Divine reward and
punishment.
And what are the core topics about which there could be broad agreement?
11 Chemjo Vinaver, Anthology of Jewish Music (New York: Edward B. Marks Music
Corporation), 1955; Anthology of Hassidic Music, Eliyahu Schleifer, ed. (Jerusalem:
Jewish Music Research Centre at Hebrew University), 1985.
12 Dov and Meir Noy, eds., Folklore Research Center Studies, volume 2., Yidisher
folkslider fun galitzye, collected by Shmuel Zanvil Pipe (Jerusalem: Hebrew University),
1971.
13 Eleanor Gordon Mlotek and Joseph Mlotek, Perl fun der yidisher poezie/Pearls
of Yiddish Song (New York: Workmens Circle), 1988.
14 Eleanor Gordon Mlotek and Joseph Mlotek, Songs of GenerationsNew Pearls
of Yiddish Songs (New York: Workmens Circle), 1996.
15 Velvel Pasternak, Songs of the Chassidim, vol. II (New York: Tara Publications),
1971.
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2. Yiddish plus the East European non-Jewish vernacular [the most common
being Ukranian, but also including Russian, Polish, Hungarian and even
Czech];
3. The addition of loshn koydesh to #2.
If, then, a noticeable part of the East Ashkenazi repertoire is in more than
one language, why define it as Yiddish altogether?
To explore this issue, I will start with my own place on the complicated
Jewish map. Like most American Jewish children educated Jewishly in the
1950s and 1960s, I was oriented toward Hebrew, the language of Jewish
prayer and the spoken language of our present and future. Yiddish and Ladino (Judeo-Spanish) were languages of the past, period. The intense Zionist
indoctrination I received as a teen-ager underscored this outlook. However,
as I began to realize the cultural differences between American and Israeli
Jews, I beganperhaps unconsciouslyto look for an alternative source of
Jewish cultural identity.
I found much of it ultimately in East European Yiddishkaytand particularly in Yiddish song. As I had grown up loving the sounds of traditional prayer
along with the songs of the Yishuvfirst in Palestine, then in IsraelI was
delighted to discover that both musical traditions were essential components
of Yiddish song (albeit that the former is a source and the latter an offshoot).
Moreover, I had studied and performed Balkan and Russian traditional song,
123
and was delighted to find that they shared their beautiful musical language
with a folk repertoire I could call my own. Finally, I was happy to discover that
the repertoire included popular, theater and even art songs, so that I could
put my classical vocal skills to good use.
In short, the Yiddish song repertoire is diverse enough to appeal to a
post-modern fragmented identity like mine. But it was not always viewed as
such. Indeed, the socio-historical reality of Yiddish-speaking Jews in the 19th
century dictated a different view: the use of Yiddish had then been intimately
connected with ideology.16 To speak Yiddish, to write and sing in Yiddish,
to use Yiddish expressions in another vernacularor not to do any or all of
theseare statements about Jewish identity in a particular time and place,
and are often decisions made consciously by both individuals and groups.
The framing of this article as being about Yiddish religious songs, rather
than as the wider genre of east Ashkenazi or Hasidic religious songs (which
could include cantorial chants, wordless niggunim, and traditional religious
songs in Hebrew and/or Aramaic), itself reflects an outlook that is modern
but not contemporary. That is because the topic Yiddish religious songs
takes as its standard a Jewish identity based on language, which is a kind of
Yiddishist perspectiveonce shared by a mighty portion of Ashkenazic Jewry
whose Jewish identity meant secular Yiddish culture.
Pre-war scholarship
Most of the classic pre-war Yiddish folk song collectors and scholars shared
this perspective and defined their work in its terms. With few exceptions,
they collected only those religious songs that included some Yiddish in their
texts. These songs were then laid side-by-side with the non-religious songs
in the same collection. While this approach can certainly be useful and even
illuminating, it misses the larger religious-music context of the songsthe
context of traditional prayer modes (nusah), cantorial recitative, and Hasidic
nign (Yiddish for Hebrew niggun).
Only two collectors in print took this more comprehensive approach to
religious song: Bernstein and Idelsohn. Monumental and sophisticated as
Idelsohns collecting and analysis was, the fact remains that his locus of activity was the Ashkenazi communities of Jerusalem, where repertoire was not
developing along the same lines as the main body of Yiddish-speaking Jews
in Europe. Paradoxically, political conditions in Palestine were more favor16 For a good overview of this topic, see Emanuel S. Goldsmith, The Language of
Ashkenaz, Modern Yiddish Culture (New York: Shapolsky Publishers and the Workmens Circle Education department), 1987: 27-44.
124
able to his activities than conditions in the USSR were to Yiddish scholars
there. Had the Soviet Jewish musicologists been permitted to publish a truly
representative sample of items from S. An-Skis and Joel Engels voluminous
pre-World War I field collections, which after the Revolution were reposited
in St. Petersburg and later Kiev, we would today have a far more complete
picture of religious song in Yiddish,17 and perhaps even of the totality of East
European Jewish song. The survival of a good portion of this mother lode
of wax cylinders in the Ukrainian Academy of Sciences in Kiev has recently
been confirmed, and limited scholarly investigation by Western and Israeli
scholars is being allowed by the Ukraine government. A single Compact Disc
with 40-odd items has been pressed in limited quantities, and is available at
the YIVO Institute of Jewish Research in New York (I have heard selected
songs). So perhaps we may all yet see and/or hear more of these treasures.
In any case, during the last 30 years, scholars have shifted their gaze to
the multi-cultural aspects of Yiddish language and culture. Benjamin Hurshavski/Harshav18 describes east European Jewry as internally and externally
polylingual, with Yiddish as mediator among all the languagesboth Jewish
and non-Jewishthat Jews had to negotiate. In the field of Yiddish ethnomusicology, scholars like Barbara Kirshenblatt-Gimblett and Mark Slobin have
pioneered the study of a folksingers total repertoire in all languages.19 And
Mark Kligman20 has taken a contemporary ethnological approach to contemporary Orthodox and non-Orthodox popular music, showing how language
choices continue to be ideological markers within the Jewish world.
Post-war scholarship and the new Yiddish-speaking Orthodox
After World War II, the division persisted between the treatment of Yiddish
religious songs as, on the one hand, a subset of the entire corpus of Yiddish
song (Rubin 1963; Mlotek and Mlotek 1972, 1988, 1996) and, on the other,
as a subset of Ashkenazi or Hasidic religious song. Andre Hajdu and Yaakov
17 Eleanor Gordon Mlotek, Soviet-Yiddish Folklore Scholarship, Musica Judaica,
Vol. II, 1 (1977-78): 75.
18 Benjamin Harshav, The Meaning of Yiddish (Berkeley: University of California
Press), 1990: passim.
19 Barbara Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, Patterns of the Jewish Song World; Mark
Slobin, Patterns of Musical Style, both in booklet accompanying Folksongs in the
East European tradition: from the repertoire of Marian Nirenberg, Global Village LP
GVM117, 1986.
20 Mark Kligman, The Medium and the Message, op. cit.
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126
127
29 Because Lubavitcher Hasidim make it a point to interact with the outside world,
their primary language is not Yiddish (see Ester-Basya ((Asya)) Vaisman, She Who
Seeks Shall Find: The Role of Song in a Hasidic Womans Life, Journal of Synagogue
Music, Fall 2010: n.4).
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129
Another clue of the recordings origin comes from a songster called HaShir Vha-Shevah.32 Printed in Bnei Brak, its title page33 lists the same
songs that are sung on the Zmires Yisroel recordings. A golden-covered
bentcher34also titled Zmires Yisroel (subtitled: Songs of the God-fearing
and Hasidim)offers complete texts of all the songs on the identicallynamed cassettes, in addition to the usual bentcher texts of zmirot for
Sabbath and Festivals as well as prayers to be recited before and after
meals. The bentcher was printed in New York State and is also carried by
stores on Lee Avenue.
The Zmires Yisroel selections form part of the Old Core repertoire but
include songs not found elsewhere, except on Suki and Ding volumes 2 and
3, which copied them. The adult male singers are clearly non-professional,
and the instrumentation is acoustic: accordion and violin.
Arrangements appear to have been improvised on the spotneither
player sounds sure of what the singer is doing or about to do. The mood
is definitely Old World, and probably intended as such.35
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131
2) whether they knew specific songs whose titles I supplied (most of these
songs I took from recordings currently circulating in the community).
This was far from a scientific survey, but from the answers it elicited I began to discern the lay of the land. Only one of the interviewees considered
him/herself a singer or musical, which is unfortunate, for those who love
to sing are usually the ones who remember songs. I also asked Mendy, the
Music Department manager of Eichlers Jewish Bookstore in Borough Park,
to describe what types of people buy the Yiddish-song tapes. His answer was:
yeshiva-age boys and young men, primarily.
Three major factors emerged as determinant of the level of knowledge of
religious songs with a Yiddish component: gender, dynasty affiliation, and
residence. Three of the four women interviewees, ages 25-ish, middle-aged
and 80, did not know the Yiddish songs I asked them about, nor could they
remember others. The fourth woman did, with prodding, remember a few of
the songs on Zmires Yisroel 36 as ones she had sung or heard in childhood. This
woman, in her mid-50s at the time, grew up in Borough Park in a Galitzianer
Hasidic family. The other women belonged to Satmar, a smaller Hungarian
dynasty, and Lubavitch. The youngest had lived all her life in New York, the
others had lived in New York since the end of the War.
The level of familiarity with Old Core repertoire was slightly higher among
the men, but here dynasty and personal predilection seems to have proved
decisive. This bore out what I had learned in conversation with performers
of Yiddish songs. The popular American-born Lubavitcher singer Avraham
Fried, known for his original compositions, told me he knew a few Lubavitchrelated songs, but otherwise nothing. Hazzan Isaac Goodfriend of Atlanta
(since deceased), a Holocaust survivor then in his 70s who had grown up in
Lodz among Alexander Hasidim (an off-shoot of Ger), knew several Yiddish
religious songs, not from his childhood but from post-war collections and
recordings.
Only Michael Wex, who grew up after the war in a Strykover family (also
an off-shoot of Ger) among assorted Hasidim in Western Canada, was familiar with many of the songs on Zmires Yisroel and with other parts of the old
repertoire. He had heard them at public gatherings in his home community
of Alberta as well as at a Winnipeg yeshiva hed attended as an adolescent.
Shmuel Weiss, a younger ex-Hasid then in his early twenties whom I had met
twice but never interviewed extensively, also indicated that he knew significant
parts of the Old Core repertoire. He grew up in Omaha among Hungarian
36 Zmires Yisroel 1 and 2niggunei yreim v-hasidim b-idish, Kol Yeshurun
cassette TS 106, n.d.
132
133
For example, Kotsk (about making pilgrimages to the rebbe, using a triple
pun on the Hebrew root R-G-L) and Fun Kosev biz Kitev (about R. Israel
Baal Shem Tov, the founder of Hasidism) are two apparently authentic or at
least folklorized songs from the Old Core repertoire that can be found in the
post-war collections of Belarsky41 and the Mloteks.42 Kotsk is mentioned in
a non-scholarly English work sympathetic to Hasidism.43 In fact, according
to Hazzan Goodfriend, Elie Weisel knew Kotsk as Vizhnitz, and the late
Grand Rabbi Menachem Schneerson knew it as Lubavitch. This points to a
wide diffusion of the song, from Poland to Belorussia to Bukovina. The different versions could conceivably fit Idelsohns definition (above) of Hasidic
meditations set to music. Yet these two songs do not seem to be part of the
Hasidic repertoire of the last 30 years. It is puzzling why todays Orthodox are
not singing some of these old songs, like the song Tseydo ladorekh (discussed
next), while continuing to sing others. Perhaps the songs located specifically in
European centers of Hasidism would be irrelevant to non-European Hasidim,
whereas religious texts are still in use. But this is only a guess.
The song Tseydo ladorekh: Sources
Tseydo ladorekh is a genuine find for Yiddish song researcher, since neither
text nor tune has previously been documented. I know it in two forms:
a) the version sung by Moti Friedman of Jerusalem, recorded by me in 1986,44
and the same source recorded again by Itzik Gottesman in 1998,45 the
recordings being virtually identical;
134
135
136
(Refrain):
Tseydo, tseydo ladorekh nemt aykh,
brider, mit.
Der ver es tit zikh furbraytn
der laydet kayn mul nisht.
Tseydo nemt aykh, brider, mit ahin,
vayl oyfn veyg ken men shoyn
gur nisht tin.
Tseydo ladorekh nemt aykh,
brider, mit.
(Refrain):
Provisions for the journey,
brothers, take with you.
The one who prepares never
suffers.
Provisions, brothers, take with you,
for on the road nothing more
can be done.
Provisions for the way, brothers,
Take with you.
137
(Original
Pitch)
13
kimt
for zey - er
oft,
az der ban
shlekh - te
tsay - tn
up -ge -
In es
um - fer - hof,
Tsi
ist
di
5
3
veg iz in gan - tsn fer veynt, der ban ken nisht vay - ter geyn. Der - um ven ay - ner geyt uf a ray - ze
6
3
10
shpay-ze
hin - ger - ik vet er nit dar
fn zayn.
15
18
21
mul nisht.
23
oy - fn
tsey
veyg
do
la - do
rekh
nemt
138
nisht
aykh,
hin
vayl
tin.
bri - der,
mit.
3
25
Tsey- do tsey - do tsey - do la do - rekh nemt ir, bri - der, mit.
28
hin - gert
30
keyn
mul
nisht.
tsey - do nemt
ir mit
a - hin;
tsey - do
nemt
ir
mit
a - hin,
verserefrain,
verserefrain,
half-verserefrain.
139
140
Of particular interest is the fact that our textas a sermon on the importance of helping the poorremains practically sui generis as a song form. So
far, I have been unable to locate any songs like iteither in print, on recording, or in the oral tradition.
The song Tseydo ladorekh: analysis of the music
The melody for the verses is a non-rhythmic, non-metrical recitative, in
the style of a baal tfillah. The melody for the refrains is less easily categorized. Our informant sings it as a semi-recitative, non-metrically. The
endings of each line are at the least syncopated and even a bit rusheda
traditional style also characteristic of the ends of phrases in klezmer music.
(This may be related to the phrase-shortening that seems to typify unaccompanied solo singing in Yiddish.)61 This hybrid style could mean that
the refrain was originally metric, but that the informant and/or his father
adapted it to a non-group style of singing in which meter could have given
way to individual expressiveness. Or, perhaps this is simply a co-temporal
variant of the Gottesman familys metrical version.
The melodic pattern is as follows.
Verse: a-a-b-b, refrain: a-b-c-d-e, with the opening interval of (c) being
the same as that of (a).
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The refrains closing tag line (e) also opens the song. In other words, the
same textTseydo ladorekh nemt aykh brider mit is set to two different
melodies. This is quite unusual, but consistent with the Gottesman version.
The difference between the two lies in the fact that the Friedman version
is strophic, with the last line tagged on almost as an afterthought. It is not
needed harmonically, as the previous line has brought the melody back to
the tonic. The Gottesman version of the refrain, on the other hand, resembles
the melodic form of an English limerick:
The last line of this version brings the melody from the b lineswhere it
outlined the dominantback to the tonic. It thus has an essential function.
This limerick-like form (my term) also crops up in Yiddish folk song, yet
Hurshovski does not mention it.
The song Tseydo ladorekh: the performance practice
Moshe Beregovsky62 classified folk singers according to three types:
1) moderate tempo, mezzo forte, minimal ornamentation;
142
In the Gottesman interview he prefaces his singing with the words, I didnt
sing it for a long time. This implies that he has no ongoing life-context of
his own in which to sing the song, even though as a Modern Orthodox Jew
he sings Shabbat zmirot regularly. It is also possible that Friedman falls into
Beregovskys category #3 (if one accepts this schema); he is a collectorat a
distance from the folk traditionwho never varies in his treatment of it.
During the course of my interview with him, Friedman talks of his Orthodox
upbringing and his study at a yeshiva in Bnei Brak, and he contrasts it with
his current hatred of the Hareidim (ultra-Orthodox). Even though he loves
their music, he says, they have made me hate them. This revealing statement
illustrates the same cognitive dissonance experienced by countless numbers
of people throughout the centuries who love, perform and are entertained by
the music of particular ethnic groups in their societies, and whose own music
derives from it, while disliking the group itself. This phenomenon has always
been true of Jews and is evident among todays Orthodox, in their desire for
American Pop arrangements.
Epilogue
In recent years, Dr. Walter Zev Feldmannow Professor of Music at New
York University in Abu Dhabi and a researcher with The Hebrew Universitys
Jewish Music Research Centrehas placed the thesis from which this article
derives in the library of the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. He has used it in
classes on Ashkenazic music which he taught at Bar Ilan University and at the
Rubin Academy. He has also used our 2001 recording of Tseydo ladorekh
from a concert in New York, featuring me on vocals and him on the tsimbl.
I, too, have successfully incorporated some of the researched materialat
least one rescued tuneinto the regular High Holiday and Festival repertoire of my congregation, which they now sing with gusto. It is a melody to
the Amidah text Atah vhartanu (You have chosen us), that I found in the
Stonehill field recording collection in the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research
sound archives.
Moreover, since I wrote the thesis, important new efforts in research and
documentation of Yiddish song have been made in the Americas, Europe
(including the former USSR) and Israel. Even some Hasidim are themselves
collecting and performing this older repertoire. A few seminal academic works
have been published (e.g., Itzik Nakhmen Gottesman, Defining the Yiddish
Nation: The Jewish Folklorists of Poland, Wayne State University Press, 2004)
and documentary CDs released (e.g., The Hasidic Niggun as Sung by the
143
144
Sidor Belarsky (1898-1975) emigrated from Russia in the year 1930. He therefore belonged to the wave of Jewish immigration that has since been labeled
the East European immigration of Jews to America. Although there were Jews
who arrived in America from other parts of the world, the overwhelming
number at the turn of the twentieth century hailed specifically from Eastern
Europe. It is important to note that Belarskys life in Europe was far different
from that of the the average East European Jew. Most Russian-Polish Jews
had been employed in trade, tavern keeping, brokerage, makeshift occupations, as rabbis and other religious functionariesabout twenty-five percent
artisansand the rest were servants, beggars and paupers.
In contrast, Belarsky devoted himself to studying music and singing. His
experience differed from those of most East European Jews, especially those
who lived in the small towns of the Pale of Settlement, because Belarsky gravitated to the cities that offered gifted Jews like him opportunities for musical
training. Belarsky, whose hometown of Kreshopel in the Ukraine was not far
from the Black Sea, found ample training ground for his talents in Odessa.
By the beginning of the twentieth century, Odessa had a population of approximately 200,000 and constituted a center of intellectual and cultural life.
That is where Belarsky learned to sing with such skill and musicality.
Belarskys Contribution I
Significance of the Yiddish Language to American-Jewish Audiences
Although Belarsky performed in many concerts and operas throughout his
career for the general American public, it was his connection to American
Jewry in particular that was central to his success. The majority of his records
are of a Jewish nature, that is either Yiddish or Hebrew music, and his popularity was rooted in singing such music to Jewish audiences throughout the
United States and abroad. It is important to note that Belarsky did not sing
the Yiddish theater music that was so popular with Jewish audiences in New
York. Belarskys daughter Isabel claims that her father was not comfortable
singing this genre of Jewish music, though he was no doubt capable of doing
so, if one were to judge by his operatic repertoire. Moreover, by the time Belarsky was establishing himself as a performer in America in the mid-1930s,
the heyday of Yiddish theaters on Second Avenue had passed. Their number
shrank from approximately twenty in 1920 to no more than four or five in
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1940. Rather, Belarsky was best known for singing Yiddish folk songs with
simplicity and pathos.
Every artist needs an audience, and Belarsky needed an audience that could
understand what he was singing. He found such an audience in America. By
the time he arrived in the United States in January 1930, immigrants from
Eastern Europe had swelled the overall Jewish population in America to three
and a half million.
146
the second half of the 20th century, those Jews who had been raised on the
Mother Tongue clung more tenaciously to it. They wanted to be recognized
as a group that continued to retain its roots, and that was done through the
Yiddish language. Belarskys prominence gave an effective boost to maintaining their heritage, for he sang Yiddish songs that reminded them of the Old
Country. As the historian Irving Howe so eloquently put it: Yiddish had served
as a kind of secret sign, a gleeful or desperate wave to the folks back home by
a performer who liked it to be known that he was still a Jewish boy. Howe
goes on to explain how local politicians of the time deliberately peppered
their speeches with Yiddish to win over Jews. Belarsky did not need to do the
same. Being secure in his knowledge of music and the Yiddish language, he
brought Jews toward him naturally. He sang to an audience that understood
every nuance of the language as it was articulated through the music.
Despite his connection to the Old World, Belarsky was not one to remain
solely in the past. He constantly studied new music. In the early 1950s he
recorded Songs of the Holocaust, for he wanted to represent musically the
grief of that horrific event. When Belarsky concertized he could thus evoke
both sadness and joy from his audiences by singing Yiddish folk songs, Hasidic
songs or Holocaust songs. As Chana Mlotek suggests, Much scholarship
and aesthetic taste were contained in his compilations of songs devoted to
specific themes, notably the songs of the Holocaust, songs of Soviet-Jewish
poets, the immigrant experience, Hasidim, holidays, etc.
Cantor Samuel Rosenbaum expands on this theme:
The songs of Israel, and the songs of the Jews of the Soviet Union (who
can forget his early recordings of Vulai and Kakha Kakh, or his album
of songs of the Jewish-Russian underground?); all of these responded
to his special genius. But to me he will always remain the spirit and the
substance of those little towns that were caught in the web of love and
artistry of Sholom Aleichem and I. L. Peretz and Mordechai Gebirtig
and Itzik Manger. I contend that Belarskys popularity with the people
stemmed not only from his knowledge of the Yiddish song, but also from
the fact that he succeeded as a musician in the non-Jewish world. Jews
in America, I believe, took delight in a fellow Jew fitting into the secular
world as well as the Jewish one. It was a source of pride to his fans to hear
Belarsky sing opera both at the New York City Opera and on the radio.
It is important to add that many who remember hearing Sidor Belarsky sing
did not belong to the first waves of immigrants from Russia at the beginning
of the 20th century. Indeed, numbers of Belarskys fans belong to the second
and third generation of American Jews who grew up hearing Yiddish being
147
spoken by parents and grandparents. They, too, have an emotional bond with
Yiddish, but do not identify with the Yiddish folk song in quite the same way
as their parents or grandparents. For some of these people Yiddish is not
their mother tongue. Yet as the linguist Joshua Fishman explains, although
their Yiddish is quite limited, their comprehension level is still substantial.
Moreover, many wish to sustain their East European heritage through song
and language. Historian Jack Kugelmass, describing the current upsurge of
interest in Yiddish language and culture claims: For others, the East European
Jewish past has reemerged as the bulwark against assimilation, as evidenced by
the recent revival of klezmer music and current attitudes towards Yiddish.
Belarskys language skills certainly helped him when he sang to JewishAmerican audiences. His Yiddish skills enabled him to engage the audience,
not only through song, but when he would speak to the audience. However,
there are many types of songs that can be sung in Yiddish. Knowing what
they wanted to hear, Belarsky carefully chose the songs he sang to Jewish
Americans. The next section surveys the lyrics of eight of Belarskys songs in
an attempt to understand the connection between the words and Belarskys
audience.
Belarskys Contribution II
What the Songs Actually Said to American-Jewish Audiences
Although Belarsky was capable of singing more sophisticated musicas
both his musical training in Russia and his ability to sing challenging operatic
roles would suggesthe was popular among Jewish audiences primarily as a
result of his eloquent presentation of the Yiddish folk song. During a career
that spanned over forty-five years, Belarsky produced over 350 recordings,
the majority of which are in Yiddish. His daughter Isabel has been actively
preserving many of her fathers Yiddish, Hebrew and Hasidic recordings and
has had them transferred first to cassettes, later CDs, and more recently online
(see note at end of article). Additionally, two song books are still available in
bookstores: My Favorite Songsarranged by Sidor Belarsky (1951) reprinted
by Tara Publications, Cedarhurst, NY; and Sidor Belarsky Songbook (1970),
published by Ethnic Music, NY.
Let us now explore why the lyrics of these two collections containing his
most popular songs captured the hearts of generations of American Jews.
The first song to be analyzed is Der kremer (The Grocer) by A. Liesin.
It begins:
148
There is a poor and modest grocer, among hundreds more on the street. He
sits and he waits for a customer, it is dark and the rain is like sleet. As he sits
he thinks about how much better things would be if there were a Jewish State.
While his fantasy is wondrous and sweet, a government run by our people, a
Jewish one, you understand.
While he dreams about a Jewish state a short man comes in and asks to
purchase a very tiny portion of fish, which immediately ends the grocers
dream and brings him back to reality. The lyrics continue:
All of a sudden a customer, as big as a peanut, comes in. He asks for a pennys
worth of herring and knocks every dream out of him.
Typical of many of these songs are the visual images that the words paint:
a vivid picture of the poor merchant on the main street of some backwater
shtetl (hamlet) in Poland or Russia. The listeners imagination will then provide a sense of the onerous burden carried by the Jewish people living under
Tsarist rule.
The second song is Dem milners trern (The Millers Tears), with words
and melody by Mark Warshavsky. As in Der Kremer, this song describes a
working-class Jew, an old man thinking about a bygone time when he was a
miller, wondering if he had had any joy at all in his life:
While passing by me, the years did try me, I was a miller long ago.
Remembering those who wanted to drive him away from his town and his
work; he laments how the years pass
The rumors try me, they want to drive me from out the village and the
mill,
but like the previous song, this one indicates the desperate financial conditions of Russian Jews:
The days will never come back as ever, when I could claim a little luck.
Comemy childto shul with me, God will be most merciful toward
you.
149
Now, however, the grandson bemoans the fact that he never joined his
grandfather in shul. For this misdeed he has suffered, his years have been
filled with suffering.
You meant well, Grandfather dearest, but your prayers for me were no
blessing. Instead, my years were filled with sorrows, every day brings new
misfortune.
Thus a young man with initial hopes for achieving success in Eastern
Europeeven with the blessings of his pious grandfatherstill grows up
with difficulty and sadness. The song explains why so many young men would
venture alone from their homeland to America, bringing the rest of the family
only once some money had been earned. There was little hope for any kind
of a future in Eastern Europe.
The fourth song, in addition to portraying community life in the shtetl,
discusses personal relationships. Reizele, with words by Mordechai Gebirtig, is
one of Belarskys signature songs. Although this song does not speak directly
of poverty, the listener can imagine love overwhelming any concern over it.
The song speaks of a young man who is thinking only about his love.
ReizeIe, I Iove you so much. I love your mama. I love the streets. I love
the old house. I love the stones next to the house, because you walk on
them.
This song differs from the previous three in that instead of singing about
poor old men we now hear about the all-consuming feeling of love that a young
man has for his beloved. All four songs cited describe a time when Jews lived
in small towns and for the most part in poverty. For many first-generation
American Jews these scenes would not have been difficult to imagine. Even
second-generation American Jews might have been attracted to the songs
because they could conjure up the image of immediate relatives such as a
parent or grandparent living in such circumstances.
The songs Belarsky sang touched the hearts of many people because they
speak of harsh times in Eastern Europe. But many Jews in America continued
to have financial difficulties at first. Almost two thirds of the new immigrants
settled down in the big cities of the Northeast, especially in crowded downtown neighborhoods such as the Lower East Side of New York City. There
they found employment in manual labor of various kinds. Over half entered
the ready-made clothing industry in which entrepreneurs, contractors, tailors,
and seamstresses were mainly Jews. Wages were low, hours were long, and
working conditions poor in the small, unventilated and dirty sweatshops.
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It would seem that to some degree Belarsky was consoling his listeners
by reminding them of a time when life was even more difficult; as arduous
as life was in America, the hope persisted that eventually conditions would
improve (and in fact, for most they did). It is important to add that Belarsky
did not sing to Jewish Americans when they were new to the country at the
turn of the century, but during the 1930s when they had already established
themselves in the United States. By 1951 when Belarskys book of Favorite
Songs was published, singing about troublesome times in Russia may have
been easier, considering the more comfortable circumstances of Jewish
Americans at mid-century.
Sociologist Marshall Sklare observes that at that time American Jewry
seemed optimistic about its future. Older Jews will recall the celebration of
the American-Jewish Tercentenary in 1954, honoring the 300th anniversary
of the arrival in New Amsterdam of a small band of Jewish refugees from
Brazil as a bright and joyous occasion. The reason for the festivities is easy to
locate: Nazism had been destroyed, the State of Israel had been established,
and the enemies of Israel did not seem to pose any immediate threat to its
survival. Also, while the main outlines of the tragedy of the Holocaust were
known, American Jewrys illusions had not yet been shattered by revelations
about the Roosevelt Administrations lack of resolve to rescue Jewsfirst
from persecution and later from annihilation.
Another common theme in Belarskys repertoire is the desire to go to Palestine, a popular topic in the East European Jewish press in the 1880s. One
historian observes that when East European Jewish emigration increased, the
Jewish press debated whether it should be directed to America or to Palestine.
Most of the emigrants opted for the United States, but the idea of re-establishing the land of Israel as the center of Jewish life took hold among many
of the intelligentsia (maskilim) and Russified Jews. Zionist ideology played a
central role in Belarskys life. He visited Israel eight times, including a concert
he performed the very evening that Israel was declared a State. He played an
important role in the Histadrut Israel Foundation for many years.
In the song Yerushalayim, with words by Avigdor Hameiri, the Zionist
theme is unmistakable:
151
Though Belarsky did not make aliyah to Israel, he still sang about the importance of going there. Given his strong relationships with Labor Zionist
organizations, it is no wonder that his repertoire included a number of songs
with a powerful Zionist theme.
Belarskys musical selections take us to the cold and barren land of Siberia,
about which he sings in Ergetz vayt (In the Distant Land), with words by
H. Leivik and music by Lazar Weiner. It tells the story of one man who was
exiled there:
It is important to mention that this is not a simple folk song, for Weiners
music plays on the lyrics with jarring dissonance, leaving the listener with
a sense of bleak emptiness. A song like this gave Belarsky an opportunity to
paint a vivid tableau for his audience.
The last song, Moyshelakh shloymelakh with words by J. Papernikoff and
music by Israel Alter, portrays the aftereffect of the Holocaust on a town in
Poland.
Under the green Polish trees, little Moses and little Solomon
do not play anymore, no little Sarahs and little Leahs,
not on the grass and not on the snow.
152
who had been born in this country during the first half of the 20th century.
Many were raised in areas that were primarily Jewish and where Yiddish was
spoken at home. So for many second-generation Jewish Americans as well,
there was a strong emotional attachment to what he sang.
In choosing his programsincluding Yiddish folk material, Hasidic niggunim and Yiddish art songsSidor Belarsky was ever careful to pick items
that meant something special to Jewish Americans. Whether to conjure up
images of the Old Country or to evoke the desire for a return to Zion, he was
extremely aware of the texts that he sang and how they affected his audiences.
We know this because Yiddish songs were included in his programs year after
year. Belarskys use of Yiddish texts made for a powerful combination that
usually evoked a strong emotional reaction from the audience. However, there
is still another element of Belarskys popularity among American Jews: the
melodies to which these texts were set, folk-like and often based on synagogue
motifs, which signaled to the audience that this was Jewish music.
Belarsky employed his musical artistry to relate many folk talesthrough
Yiddish songsabout Jewish life in Eastern Europe. American Jews wanted
to assimilate into the American landscape, but they did not wholly reject
certain ethnic expressions, such as music. Yiddish folk song gave Belarsky
the opportunity to musically transport this socially and culturally mobile
audiencebeginning in the 1930s and continuing through the 1970sback
to a time that reflected many different events, both sad and happy, in the lives
of their parents, grandparents and great-grandparents.
153
When the Masters essay from which this article is excerpted first appeared in the
Journal of Synagogue Music in December 1995 (Vol. 24, No. 2), Joel Colman was
cantor and music director of Greenwich Reform Synagogue in Greenwich, CT. He
graduated from the School of Sacred Music at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute
of Religion in May of 1995 and later served as a cantor in New Orleans.
To hear Sidor Belarskys artistry on records, visit the Jewish Sound Archive at
Florida Atlantic University (www.fau.edu/jsa).
154
I. Introduction
You wont even know it existsthese telling words, spoken by Suri Gold, a
young Hasidic woman who lives in Borough Park, are indicative of the private
status of contemporary Hasidic womens songs. I met Suri while I was doing fieldwork for my dissertation on the Yiddish songs and singing practices
of contemporary Hasidic women. Kol bishah, a Jewish religious regulation
on a womans voice, prevents Hasidic women from publicly performing or
commercially recording songs, as the law stipulates that their voices may
be sensually attractive to men.2 Thus, while Hasidic mens music has been
collected, published, and analyzed to an extent, virtually no research exists
outside of the community on the enormous repertoire of the Hasidic womens
songs.3 Due to the insular nature of Yiddish-speaking Hasidic communities,
1
Suri Gold, a 25-year-old Tosh Hasidic woman, interview with the author, April
2007. The names of all informants have been changed to protect their anonymity.
2
The Kol bIshah prohibition can be traced to the Babylonian Talmud, Berachot 24a, which states A womans voice is ervah (an erotic stimulus), as it is written,
For your voice is pleasing and your appearance attractive (Song of Songs 2:14). This
line has been interpreted to mean that a womans voice could lead a man to engage in
impure thoughts and possibly actions, and thus it is prohibited to him; it is generally
accepted that this prohibition applies only to a womans singing voice, and not to her
speaking voice. Kol bIshah usually does not apply to a womans immediate relatives,
such as her husband, brother, father, or son, except when the man is praying or when
the woman is menstruating, though in Hasidic circles there are restrictions even on
family members.
3
The studies most relevant to this paper include Mark Kligman, The Media
and the Message: The Recorded Music of Brooklyns Orthodox Jews, Jewish Folklore
155
156
sometimes do not realize that they know songs and engage in singing until
prodded with specific questions.
Yet singing does indeed occur among women and especially girls. This
paper will explore the role that singing plays in the lives of Hasidic women
and girls at different stages of their life cycles. Varying with a womans age
and Hasidic group, the opportunities for listening to and engaging in singing
are numerous and diverse, ranging from simply listening and singing along
to tapes while doing housework to writing songs and directing choirs for
elaborate school productions.
I observed three kinds of singing events at schoolssinging used as an
educational tool in the classroom, practicing singing at graduation rehearsals,
and singing at school performances. I also attended charity events at which
singing took place. Because of the private nature of many of the other occasions
at which female singing occurs, however, I was unable to personally observe
many of the events that I will describe. Fortunately, the in-depth interviews
that I conducted with women of different ages provided much information
about the way Hasidic women use song in everyday life.
During my interviews, I noticed that women gave very similar answers
when asked about singing contexts; it seems that both within and across
Hasidic groups, the venues for listening to and participating in song are fairly
consistent within each age group. Because of these similarities and because
of my inability to observe events firsthand, I found that the most efficient
method of describing my findings is to offer a composite picture of the role
of song in a typical Hasidic womans life cycle using the device of a fictional
family. This approach offers a more complete look at the various occasions
when singing occurs. I extend the composite device only through the first half
of the paper, subsequently moving on to a more conventional, documented
discussion of provenance, authorship, and perceptions of singing.
Current trends in anthropology prescribe using an ethnographic approach
to describe findings (depicting events observed first-hand) and underscore
writing reflexively to account for the subjectivity of the ethnographers perspective (see works by Ellen Koskoff, Michelle Kisliuk, Clifford Geertz, and
Jean-Paul Dumont, for example).5 The composite approach is often criticized
5
See for example, Gregory F. Barz and Timothy J. Cooley, eds. Shadows in the
Field: New Perspectives for Fieldwork in Ethnomusicology (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2008); Clifford Geertz, The Interpretation of Cultures: Selected Essays (New York:
Basic Books, 1973); Ellen Koskoff, ed. Women and Music in Cross-Cultural Perspective
(Champaign: University of Illinois Press, 1989); Michelle Kisliuk, (Un)doing Fieldwork:
Sharing Songs, Sharing Lives, in Shadows in the Field, eds. G. F. Barz and T. J. Cooley,
183-205; Jean-Paul Dumont, The Headman and I: Ambiguity and Ambivalence in the
Fieldworking Experience (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1978).
157
158
thus represents one stage of the life cycle. Now I am pleased to introduce to
the reader to the Berenboim family.
II. The BerenboimsA Composite Life Cycle
From the time Rivky Berenboim is born, her mother rocks her to sleep in the
evenings with a lullaby.12 Shluf shoyn, mayn tayere sheyfele, makh shoyn tsi
dayne zise oygelekh, shluf shoyn, shluf, in a zise shluf, ay-li-liu-li-liu (Sleep
already, my dear lamb, close already your sweet eyes, sleep already, sleep, in
a sweet sleep, rock a bye).13 Mrs. Berenboim, a Satmar woman in her late 30s
living in Williamsburg, had sung this same lullaby to her two older daughters,
Gitty and Suri.
As Rivky grows older, she starts to pick up words and phrases from the
childrens songs her mother sings with her, often accompanied by related
motions: Ikh hob tsvay fiselekh tsi kenen gayn, ikh hob a zise kepele tsi farshtayn (I have two legs to be able to walk, I have a sweet head to be able to
understand).14 Even from the early age of two or three years, the songs Rivky
hears and sings teach her important lessons about faith in G-d.15 Vus zugt
men far dem alemen? (What do we say for all these things?) asks the next
line in the body-part song; Burekh hashem! (Thank G-d!) is the emphatic
answer.
Rivkys little brother, Moishy, less than a year younger, hears and sings
most of the same songs as Rivky until they start kindergarten at the age of
six. Mrs. Berenboim, like many other Williamsburg mothers, gets many of
these songs from Yiddish childrens tapes, which are readily available in the
local neighborhood bookstore. Rivkys favorites are the Kinder Classics (Childrens Classics) albums, which teach her about giving charity and honoring
12 Rivky and her family are imagined composite characters based on information about contexts for singing in a Hasidic womans life provided by a number of
informants.
13 Song: Shluf shoyn, Sleep, already. Note on Yiddish: Yiddish text, as quoted in
the speech of Hasidic women and in song lyrics, is transcribed in Hassidic Yiddish,
a mixture of Polish and Hungarian dialects (using a modified YIVO system). Yiddish
words that appear individually within the text are transcribed using Yivo orthography
with an English translation (as it appears in the Oxford English Dictionary) where applicable. Titles of albums are spelled the way they appear on the album cover.
14 Song: Ikh hob a matuneh, I have a present.
15 In keeping with Hasidic avoidance of committing to written form any name
that can be construed as a direct reference to the Holy One, I have used the incomplete
spelling: G-d.
159
her mother and father. The tapes (or CDs), recorded by male singers or boys
choirs, are often playing in the background when the children play, keeping
them occupied while their mother tends to her chores.
On Fridays, Rivky and Moishy sing along to the Heyliger Shabbos (Holy
Sabbath) album from the Momme Lushen (Mother Tongue) series, learning
through song about preparing for the Sabbath by putting away their clothes
and toys and helping their mother set the table. After their father comes
home from shul (synagogue) on Friday night, the family sits down to a festive Shabbos meal, throughout which they sing zmires (traditional Sabbath
songs in Hebrew), led by the father. By age three, Rivky already knows that
it is forbidden to use electricity on Shabbos, and when Moishy crawls to the
tape player on Saturday and tries to turn it on, Rivky runs over to stop him.
After Rivky starts kindergarten at age six, she learns many new songs from
her teacher. The lyrics to most of these songs are made up by the teacher or
the principal of the kindergarten and are printed in newsletters that Rivky
brings home every week to share with her mother.16 The melodies of the songs
are usually borrowed from old niggunim (tunes traditionally composed and
sung by Hasidic men) or other well-known songs, which makes it very easy
for Mrs. Berenboim to learn the new songs.17
The songs taught in kindergarten and elementary school are on a wide
variety of topics, and they are generally short and simple, consisting of one
or two stanzas. Many of these songs teach Rivky and her classmates about
the stories in the Torah with simplified rhyming vignettes, like
A kalle zolsti zikhn far Yitskhok mayn zin,
Nisht kayn fremde maydl, nor a yiddish kind.
Vaser far di kemlekh hot Rivke gegeybn,
Tsi tin a toyve iz geven ir shtreybn.
There are also songs associated with rituals and with activities for the day.
As one teacher (a Belz woman) said about the varieties of childrens songs,
Every subject has a song. If its cleanliness, its a cleanliness song, if its days
of the week, what month, when the moon is small, the moon is full, all that is
in Yiddish [childrens] songs.19 Heres one about the Penitential season.
16 Dvoyre Horowitz, interview with the author, March 2007.
17 Horowitz 2007, and Esty Kahan, interview with the author, March 2007.
18 This story is based on Genesis 24, in which Abraham asks his servant to
go back to his home to find a wife for his son Isaac. The servant finds Rebecca, who
demonstrates her worthiness by offering to water the servants camels after he asks
her for a drink.
19 Rokhl Steiner, interview with the author, November 2004.
160
In the spring, with Passover approaching, Rivky practices the four questions that she will recite during the Passover Seder. The teacher teaches them
line by line, each Hebrew phrase followed by the Yiddish translation. While
they are learning, the girls yell out the questions together as loudly as they
can, encouraging enthusiasm and participation. After much practicing, the
teacher calls up the girls, one at a time, to sing a verse in front of the class
to demonstrate their knowledge. Each girl gets a star sticker for successfully
passing the challenge. Rivky proudly brings her lyric sheet home, the shiny
star next to each verse signifying that the whole song is memorized.20
As the school year draws to a close, Rivky prepares for the pre-one graduation, a festive event marking the completion of preschool. There are many
songs to learn and stage directions to memorize from the script prepared
by the principal. Mrs. Berenboim helps out by sewing some of the colorful
costumes to be used in the performance. Since there are only girls in the class,
Rivky will be playing the role of a little schoolboy, and the skirt of her costume
has to be gathered at the bottom to make it look like trousers.21
The graduation is not the only performance in which Rivky participates.
Halfway through first grade, there is a party to honor the fact that the girls
have begun praying from the siddur (prayer book), after having learned the
alphabet. Mothers, grandmothers, and even great-grandmothers attend
this celebration, at which there is much singing.22 In the winter, there is a
big party and auction to raise money for tzedakah (charity), at which Rivky
sings in a choir.
Rivkys older sister, Gitty, is 12 years old and already in the 6th grade. The
songs she learns in school and summer camp are much longer and more
complex than the ones Rivky knows, ranging from two to ten stanzas. The
songs fall into several categories. There are songs that teach Gitty about her
responsibilities as a Hasidic woman, particularly her future role as a mother
and preserver of tradition in her family: Shtayt a boym (There Stands a Tree).
These songs often overlap with the Shabbos songs, which describe the mother
161
lighting candles and praying for her family: A Haylike Shtilkayt (A Sacred
Silence). Other Sabbath songs emphasize the festive yet soothing atmosphere
and review the commandments for the day, much like the Hebrew Shabbos
zmires that the men sing: Oy shabbos koydesh (Oh Holy Sabbath).
Songs about faith and trust in G-d belong to another significant category
in Gittys repertoire. They teach Gitty and her classmates that they are never
alonein every hardship, through all troubles, G-d is with them, and everything happens according to His will: Dertsayl ikh (I Tell You). Related to
these are songs about golus (exile) and geulah (redemption). Sung year-round,
but particularly around the time of Tisha BAv (the Ninth of Av, a midsummer
fast day commemorating the destruction of the first and second Temples),
these songs remind the girls that however comfortable their lives may seem,
they are perpetually in danger until the coming of Moshiakh (the Messiah)
Bi-yerusholayim (In Jerusalem). The perils of exile are illustrated most forcefully in the final major category of teenage girls songsHolocaust songs: Di
Dray in nayntsik kadoyshes (The 93 Martyred Young Women).
In school, Gittys day is split up into two halves: Yiddishor Jewish
subjects in the morning with one teacher, and Englishor secularsubjects
in the afternoon with another teacher. It is the Yiddish teacher who teaches
Gitty the songs mentioned above. She hands out lyric sheets to all the girls
and teaches them the melody by ear, line by line.23 Gittys 55-year-old aunt
remembers that when she was growing up, before photocopying was available, the teacher would have to dictate the songs to the girls, who wrote them
down in their notebooks.24 Sheet music is not used for singing by girls in the
Hasidic community.25 Sometimes the girls bring a tape recorder to class and
record the teacher singing, so that they can practice the melody at home by
listening to the tape.26
In Gittys class, her Yiddish teacher brings in a new song every week to
teach the girls, but in other classes, songs are taught more sporadically, or in
preparation for an upcoming school play.27 While in the Satmar school there
is not a specific subject with which singing is associated, at the Pupa school
a few blocks away, the fifth-grade English teacher teaches a separate subject
23 Leye Levinsons daughter, interview with the author, April 2007.
24 Khave Bernstein, interview with the author, November 2007.
25 Several informants have told me that only the girls who learn how to play an
instrument know how to read sheet music, and even within that group, not everyone
learns notation, since many girls learn by ear or experimentation (interviews with
Khave Bernstein, Dvoyre Horowitz, Suri Gold, and Leye Grinberg). Also see Ruth
Rosenfelder, Hidden Voices, 140.
26 Leye Levinsons daughter 2007.
27 Simi Spitzer, interview with the author, May 2008, and Gold 2007.
162
of poetry and songs.28 The school plays always include much singing. Some
songs are sung by a choir of 20-30 girls, with several girls soloing, while others
are sung entirely by one soloist, usually in place of a monologue.
Gitty also learns songs in the choir she sings in, after school. Sixth grade is
the last year when Gittys choir can perform at all-womens charity evenings,
since Satmar girls are not allowed to sing outside of the school or camp setting after age twelve.29 The charity evenings are for a variety of causes and
usually involve an auction and a slide show with singing.30 For instance, when
the grandfather of one of Gittys friends passed away, the choir performed
at a charity evening in honor of the grandfather, singing songs about him in
his memory.31 At another party with singing, money was raised to help out a
mother of a newborn baby.32
After age 12, Gitty is still able to perform songs at summer camp, for a
haymish audience (usually used to mean Hasidic, the term in this case also
implies a closed audience of other camp attendees and sometimes close family members, at events where tickets are not sold to outsiders).33 Every Friday
night, the girls gather together after the Sabbath meal to sing. At Gittys camp,
there are two heads of singing, and there are four singing counselors who
help them. These six (older) girls are usually considered to be good singers,
and they sing together for a little while in front of the other campers. After
this portion of the evening, song booklets are distributed, and everyone sings
together from the booklets, led by the counselors. Some of these songs are
written by the counselors themselves each year, while others are older songs
from previous years of camp. Every week, the singing heads prepare new
song booklets. Gittys mother, Mrs. Berenboim, remembers that when she
was young, there was only one booklet for the whole summer, and the same
songs were sung every week.34
28 Kahan 2007.
29 Leye Levinson, interview with the author, April 2007, and Leye Grinberg,
interview with the author, June 2008. For more on this prohibition, see Ruth Rosenfelder, Hidden Voices, 147-148. In London, Belz Hasidic girls are allowed to act until
age 16 (interview with Belz woman, March 2008).
30 Simi Spitzer, interview with the author, May 2008.
31 Horowitz 2007.
32 Levinson 2007.
33 In an interview, Leye Grinberg, said In camp for example they can be older
than 12 years old [when they] go on stage and sing. But not for strangers. Only for their
own camp. For example, Satmar makes beautiful, really nice color wars (explained in the
paragraph below) and all those things, they could make a lot of money [by selling tickets
to outsiders]. But the Rebbe didnt allow. Only amongst themselves (June 2008).
34 Interviews with Leye Grinberg (June 2008), Simi Spitzer (May 2008), Dvoyre
163
Singing is also a big part of the camp-wide color war. For this activity,
each bunk in the camp is assigned a color, and it competes with the other
bunks at ball games, making a banner, and making a song.35 Each event can
earn points for the bunk, and Gitty is very excited when the song she helped
to write wins in color war. In addition to color war and Friday night gatherings, singing is part of camp assemblies and plays, which are very similar to
the ones done at school. When Gitty returns from camp and shares the new
songs she learned and helped write that year with her mother, Mrs. Berenboim laughs, exasperated, at the complicated melodies. During the school
year, Gitty often gets together with friends to talk and sing, repeating the
songs from camp and school.
At the end of eighth grade, Gitty spends several weeks preparing for her
graduation, which will mark the transition to high school the following year.
She learns two new songs for the graduationa song thanking her mother
and asking G-d to heed her prayers, and a song about the Satmar Rebbe.
As the day draws nearer, the girls go to the auditorium to rehearse. They
sit around the stage in assigned chairs, and three head teachers give instructions into microphones. Gitty is in the first group of girls to come up to the
front of the auditorium to sing. Sing loudly, on the beat, says a teacher. She
directs the singing by using her fingers to count off the beats and moving her
hand up and down to keep the rhythm. She addresses some of her remarks
to the harmony maydelekh (harmony girls), telling them to sing faster or
slower. Male construction workers pass through the auditorium, but the
singing continues.36 At the end of the song, a different group of girls comes
up to the front. As they sing, the teacher instructs them on ways to sing different parts of the song: Shtark! (Strong!), Ruik! (Peaceful!), Es zol zayn
hartsik! (It should be heartfelt!). One line of the song is particularly difficult.
Di pauzes zaynen nisht genig shtark (the pauses are not strong enough),
she tries to explain.37
Horowitz (March 2007), Leye Levinson (April 2007), and Suri Gold (April 2007).
35 Gold 2007.
36 Ruth Rosenfelder (Hidden Voices) observed similar occurrences at Satmar
and Lubavitch performances that she attended. Men assisted with changing scenes at
the Satmar girls production, and a male camera operator was present at the Lubavitch
one. Rosenfelder writes that her informants justified the presence of men by saying
that they are strangers to the community, so the same rules do not apply to them.
Another explanation was that a mans presence among women is tolerated as long
as there is no alternative (149).
37 This episode is based on the authors observation of a Satmar eighth grade
graduation rehearsal in Williamsburg, May 2007.
164
165
166
is home alone, she has a tape playing on the stereo, and she sings along to
it. Once a week, Mrs. Berenboim gets together with some other women to
sing and say psalms.
Mrs. Berenboims singing activity is somewhat unusual for her community.
Many other women her age feel that they have no time to sing, as they are busy
taking care of their large families and often working on the side. By the time
women are grandmothers (usually from the age of 40), they think of singing
as something that happens mostly in schools and camps or that can be found
on tapes. When asked about the role of singing in their lives, women in their
40s, 50s, and 60s respond with statements like Im too old for singing, ask
the younger women; I cook and I bake,44 I dont remember any songs,45 and
Im too busy with my 12 kids to sing.46 Older women sometimes sing along
quietly in synagogue or at other mens gatherings when they are sufficiently
far away from the men not to be heard, a practice seen by younger women
as bobbedik (grandmotherly).
Some limited opportunities for singing do exist, and a womans willingness
to find them depends on her affinity to song. One 32-year-old mother of five
said that she is too busy on the phone and with other things when she is home
alone to have time to sing, so she usually sings only on Friday nights, after
lighting candles. She finds that she has more time to sing, however, when she
goes to the country during the summer. Many women and children from the
community go to the Catskills when the kids have summer vacation, and there
women can sometimes get together and sing if they are in the mood.47
A 25-year-old woman with only one child, in contrast, finds time to get
together with a cousin occasionally to sing together. She feels that singing is
her expression, noting that If I want to comfort myself, I sing. If I want to
laugh, I sing That is, I really love to sing. Though she has less time now that
she is married, she sometimes sings with her sister-in-law, and every once in
2007), who said in an interview, When I work, I sing, when I cook [I sing], and a lot
of times I sing in my sleep! [Laughs.] When I cant fall asleep, I sing a little.
44 Statement from a Satmar woman in her 50s.
45 Statement from a Satmar woman in her 60s.
46 Statement from a 37-year-old Vizhnits woman.
47 Levinson 2007. In her dissertation, Hella Winston notes that vacations at
bungalow colonies can provide an opportunity for women to indulge in their relative freedom. In the absence of men [who come up only on the weekends], Hasidic
women do not need to concern themselves with modesty issues [as much as usual]
and often do not. Hella Winston, Edgework: Boundary crossing among the Hasidim
(PhD diss., City University of New York, 2006), 191. Since modesty (in the form of
kol bisha) is a central constraint on singing, relaxed modesty facilitates singing opportunities.
167
a while she even sings with her friends over the telephone. Every Tuesday, her
fathers sick unmarried sister comes over to visit, and they sing old songs.48
While active singing involvement dwindles with age, older women still find
enjoyment in listening to vocal music. Mrs. Berenboim attends girls performances on khol hamoed (the semi-festive intermediate days of a festival) and
on Saturday evenings, paying $15 to $20 for tickets to shows that raise money
for the school. A widowed friend of Mrs. Berenboims who lives in Borough
Park describes one evening gathering of widowed women at which a female
performer, herself a widow, came to sing some songs in English and Hebrew
with her daughter.49 Some of Mrs. Berenboims cousins, who are not Satmar,
attend English performances produced by Beis Yaakov (ultra-Orthodox nonHasidic) schools and musical evenings at which adult women sing in Yiddish,
English, and Hebrew, called Taste of Music.50 Women in their 80s and 90s
who live in nursing homes are able to hear songs from girls choirs that come
every week to sing at the home.
Mrs. Berenboim stands in the doorway of her guest bedroom, watching
her oldest daughter Suri, who is visiting for the weekend, put her daughter
Malky to bed. Shluf shoyn, mayn tayere sheyfele, sings Suri, remembering
the lullaby of her childhood. Mrs. Berenboim walks back to the kitchen, smiling and humming quietly to herself.
III. Provenance and Authorship
Where do the songs come from? Some are older, some are newer, said Esty
Kahan when I asked her if she knows the authors of any of the songs that she
sings.51 In the Hasidic community, unless a song was written and recorded by
a popular Hasidic musician, or the author was a Rebbe or another important
spiritual or religious figure, songs are almost never associated with an author. It is thus very difficult to track down the exact origins of a song, though
general information, such as it was written by a teacher or it was written
in camp is sometimes available. This section will describe the provenance of
the songs sung and listened to by women on the occasions described in the
previous section, such as lullabies, childrens songs, and camp songs. Most
commonly, the songs are either written by Hasidic women and girls or by
Hasidic male songwriters, or they originate from outside of the contempo48
49
50
2007).
51
Grinberg 2008.
Bernstein 2007.
Interviews with Esty Kahan (March 2007) and Dvoyre Horowitz (March
Kahan 2007.
168
169
here, from there. What I was taught; from other teachers.55 Another teacher
said, The songs that I taught my students at school, I didnt make them, the
principal made them.56 The same woman later added that during her first
year of teaching, she made up some of the songs herself.
Songs sung by teenage girls in middle school and high school are for the
most part original works set to borrowed melodies, although this seems to
be changing. Leye Grinberg told me that a lot more of the songs (lyrics and
melodies) that girls sing in camps today come from tapes than when she was
in camp. She explained, Today is already a more sophisticated world [At
camp gatherings], first theres a [small] choir with songs made by girls, and
afterwards the whole camp [sings together], songs that everyone knows, and
everyone knows tapes.57 Nonetheless, new songs are being created all the
time. At camp, counselors and older girls are involved in writing lyrics. Music
is almost always taken from other sources.
One teacher, Suri Gold, described how she created a song for one of her
classes: [This is] a song I wrote myself. I made it for my class for before davening [prayer]. I took a tune of the Yerushalayim song, a song that I remember
singing as a kid, [and wrote new words].58 She also explained that in general,
when women and girls create songs in school and camp, tunes are written
probably less often. Theyll probably take it from interesting places, a tune,
like from not common tunes, not common tapes. Theyll take an old, old,
old song like from Modzits or from Bobov, like an old zmires song they would
sing on Shabbos I mean there are hundreds and hundreds, thousands of
songs, khasidishe songs, that people dont sing.
What Suri did not initially mention is that girls also often take melodies
from non-Hasidic songs and instrumental pieces. While this practice is officially frowned-upon by teachers and principals, it often goes unpunished
or unnoticed, since authorship is almost never attributed to musical pieces.59
If the teacher or principal in charge is not familiar with the non-Jewish or
non-Hasidic melody, she will not be able to recognize its appearance in a
Hasidic girls song and prevent its performance.
55 Levinson 2007.
56 Grinberg 2008.
57 Ibid.
58 Gold 2007. The Yerushalayim song that she is referring to is a song with a
new Yiddish text about the destruction of the Temple, set to a melody that comes from
Tisha BAv liturgy; the original text is in Biblical Hebrew.
59 For more about the prohibition against listening to and singing non-Hasidic
music, see Ruth Rosenfelder, Hidden Voices, 143, 156.
170
Girls take these prohibited melodies from various sources. Most commonly, they use melodies that come pre-programmed into the Yamaha
or Casio keyboards that they sometimes use for musical accompaniment.
These demo tunes are also very frequently used as musical accompaniment
to choreographed interpretive dances that form a large part of school and
camp performances. When I asked Suri about the usage of these melodies,
she responded, Im opposed to that [using non-Jewish music for dances in
Hasidic girls plays]. A lot of times it looks ugly, it looks very bad; the message
theyre trying to bring across with the play will not match, like, whats the
point of that music? Because girls do not often compose music themselves,
however, it is hard for them to find suitable music to use. Suri explained, They
do want something good, so theyll either take it from the demos on the Casio,
or I think there are just tapes floating around from camp to camp, from girl to
girl, someone who had access got a bunch of them and they would use them.
Maybe a course on a tape, a tape without words, stuff like that.
Practices also vary between Hasidic groups. A Belz woman in London
told me that her daughter was naughty once and used songs by the musical group ABBA for the melodies in one Hasidic production.60 Because the
headmistress was not familiar with the groups songs, she did not question
the provenance of the melodies and approved their use. The mother did not
mention where she and her daughter had learned the songs. A 57-year-old
Bobov woman, Khave Bernstein, used to teach in a kindergarten and told me
that she sang If Youre Happy and You Know It and You Are My Sunshine
with her students.61 When she was young, the attitudes towards music from
outside the community were much more lenient, and she grew up listening
to non-Hasidic tapes and records. It is thus possible that another source for
non-Jewish melodies used by Hasidic girls today is melodies taken from songs
taught by teachers such as Khave.
In a later part of my interview with Suri Gold, outside music sourcing came
up again. We were discussing the fact that Yiddish theater and folk songs,
which had been popular before World War II even among Hasidic women, are
no longer sung by Hasidim today, with a few exceptions. Suri was explaining
that before the popularity of commercial recordings, Hasidic music was not
widely available for people to listen to, whereas Yiddish theater songs were,
as they were broadcast on Yiddish radio. Suris view is that once tapes and
records of Hasidic music started being produced, however, such as those
60 ABBA was a Swedish pop music group, internationally popular from the
mid-1970s to the early 1980s. Their albums continue to be sold and played on the
radio to this day.
61 You Are My Sunshine is a popular song credited to Jimmie Davis and Charles
Mitchell. It was first recorded for Bluebird Records in 1939 by The Pine Ridge Boys.
171
of Yom Tov Ehrlich, people stopped listening to the secular Yiddish music.
Today, Suri believes, no one would use non-Hasidic songs in a production;
however, The music they might yes take without the words, not everybody
is so careful. Some people would take the music off a non-religious Jew, write
different words to it, and use it. Like in camps.
Occasionally, girls and women who are particularly talented do write music
for the Hasidic songs. As Suri noted, [There are] very selected people who
really sit down and work on a tune The professionals will make tunes. And
sometimes talented girls will too. This work is almost never acknowledged,
however. Both for lyricists and composers, the emphasis placed on humility in
the Hasidic community proscribes pride in creative accomplishments. Thus,
on the vast majority of lyric sheets for songs, neither author nor composer is
indicated. Dvoyre Horowitz, a 24-year-old Satmar woman, said, The teacher
could say where a song comes from if she knows, but she usually doesnt know.
Its not important. In the English/Goyish [non-Jewish] world the author is
very important, but not for us. Most interviewees agreed.62
Simi Spitzer, a 22-year-old Satmar woman, elaborated:
The teacher doesnt really say who wrote the song. Unless if its something
special, for example, have you already heard of Yom Tov Ehrlichs tapes?
If there is something of a special background, she says; otherwise not.
Generally people dont know where songs come from. Sometimes a name
can be written on the lyric sheet, but I have no idea who it is.63
172
Even when the author of a song is initially known to her friends and
classmates, as in Leyes case, once the song is distributed outside of her immediate circle of friends, the link to the author is usually lost. Suri Gold gave
an example of how song lyrics get distributed. In order to teach her class a
song, she needed to create sheets with the lyrics for the students to look at
as they learned the words together. She said, I probably saw [this song] in a
song booklet and just copied it out of there, and I just changed the border,
put on the graphics, stuff like that. But the original print, being that theyre
all identical, if I dont find it in print, I would type it or write it.64 With such
informal methods of distribution, any additional information that may be
associated with a song, such as the author, can easily get lost.
Suri also provided much insight into the way teenage girls think of songwriting and the reasons that authorship is not stressed:
The kids in camp, theyre not even doing it for anything, they have a knack
to it and they just do it. Theyre so into winning the games and winning
the color war [They want the song to] become a popular hit and for
the summer to be great, [rather than being recognized] Because its
not going to be a future for them, unless theyre really into it, and then
theyll get into it much, much later. Theyre just doing it now because its
camp. They dont even [make a big deal about it], Oh, I made that song.
Its like, Oh, I made it, and next. If someones great at it, then everyone
knows, oh shes great, she makes songs in seconds she can make songs
out of you know, just standing on the street. But people who would
work a whole night and then theyd make a song for color war, its like
three kids working together: one kid, oh I have a paragraph, I have this
or that, lets compose our own tune. But when they make major plays,
theyll hire real gifted girls, and theyll compose, and theyll work with
music and theyll stay up nights, but then again its also for the whole
performance, they dont concentrate on the song alone.
Suris comments indicate that when girls create songs to share with their
friends and classmates, their main motivation is the good of their community
rather than self-promotion. They are thus not focused on acquiring recognition or associating their names with the songs they create. Sociolinguist Miriam Isaacs observed this phenomenon in her research on Hasidic creativity,
as well; she writes, Conscious artistry for its own sake is discouraged. Piety,
and not artistic virtuosity, is the motivation for music or the shaping of words.
Thus Art for the glory of the artist is peripheral to cultural norms.65
64 Gold 2007.
65 Miriam Isaacs, Creativity in Contemporary Hasidic Yiddish, in Yiddish
Language and Culture Then and Now - Proceedings of the Ninth Annual Symposium
of the Philip M. and Ethel Klutznick Chair in Jewish Civilization,, ed. L. J. Greenspoon
(Omaha: Creighton University Press, 1998), 178.
173
The situation is markedly different in the case of songs with male authors
and songs from outside of the community. Songs that appear on commercial
recordings are generally attributed to the singer, whether or not he is also the
actual author. Most women can identify which of the songs that they sing were
written by artists such as Yom Tov Ehrlich, Yonasan Schwartz, and Michoel
Schnitzler. When lyric sheets of these songs are distributed, however, the
name of the author is still often omitted. I asked Suri Gold how she knows
who the author of the songs is in those cases, and she responded, I think
of the song, of how it sings on the tape, and I recognize the voice. And then
again I keep on hearing the same songs over and over again.66
Occasionally, women misattribute the author of a song, especially for older
songs or songs that were not written by Hasidim. The most notable example
of this that I have found appears in a book of Yiddish songs published in the
Hasidic community, Dos flam fun amol: nigguney yisroel.67 G. Engel, the
books compiler, included the names of some of the songs authors, but many
songs were unattributed. Based on the books contents and the fact that only
the first initial was used, I believe that G. Engel is a woman, though this fact
is difficult to confirm.68 Among the songs in the book that appear with an
author are several songs attributed to Reb Yossele Rosenblatt, zl, including
Vos vet zayn az moshiakh vet kumen (What will happen when the Messiah
comes) and Mayn yiddishe momme (My Jewish mother). Yossele Rosenblatt
(1882-1933) was a very well-known Russian-born cantor who flourished in
Hungary, Germany, and the United States.69 Although he wrote many original
66 Ibid.
67 G. Engel, ed. Dos Flam fun amol: nigguney Yisroel (The Flame of the Past:
the Melodies of Israel) (Brooklyn: G. Engel, 2007).
68 Dos Flam reprints some of the songs that appeared in another Hasidic songbook published a year earlier, Anim Zemiros VeShirim Eerog (Brooklyn: Zalman Leib
Blau, 2006.) This earlier publication (compiled by a male author, Zalman Leib Blau)
consisted of two sections: liturgical texts in Hebrew and songs in Yiddish. The Yiddish
songs were for the most part attributed to male authors, both Hasidic leaders (such as
the Rebbe of Berditchev) and contemporary songwriters (such as Yonasan Schwartz).
Dos Flam, in addition to selections copied verbatim from Anim Zemiros, also contained
songs with no authorial attribution that are not found on any recordings. Unlike the
songs in Anim Zemiros, which may be considered mens songs, many of these latter
songs are sung frequently by my female informants during interviews and appear in
school and camp song booklets. In contrast to the mens songs, the unattributed songs
often feature female characters (most commonly the mother) and gender-specific
subject matter (such as raising children).
69 For more on Rosenblatt, see Jeffrey Shandler, Jews, God, and Videotape:
Religion and Media in America (New York: NYU Press, 2009), pages 26-35.
174
compositions and performed both Jewish and secular music, he did not write
either of the aforementioned songs.
While Vos vet zayn az moshiakh vet kumen originated as a folk song from
Eastern Europe about the coming of the Messiah,70 My Yiddishe Momme (in
English) was written by Jack Yellen (1892-1991) in 1925 in the United States.71
An instant hit popularized by Sophie Tucker, the song describes a mother as
a valuable gift from G-d and declares the importance of appreciating ones
mother for her unconditional love. Jack Yellen had been born in Poland and
came to America with his family at the age of five. Although Jewish, Yellen was
neither Hasidic nor religiously observant. As an extremely prolific lyricist and
screenwriter, most of his works were secular, written for an English-speaking
popular American audience.
Cantor Yossele Rosenblatt, on the other hand, was an Orthodox Jew who
came from a family of Ruzhiner Hasidim. Despite numerous offers of lucrative jobs at the opera, he stayed true to his observance and refrained from
accepting engagements that would have required him to break the Sabbath.
Rosenblatt did perform and record Yellens Mayn yiddishe momme (in Yiddish), popularizing it for a religious Jewish audience. The fact that the compiler
of Dos flam attributed the song to the performer is thus not entirely surprising.
Mayn yiddishe momme appears on two of Rosenblatts record albums: Songs
of my People and The Incomparable. Notably, neither album cover indicates
the authors of the songs on the record, but Songs does state: With very few
exceptions, the Yiddish songs sung by Cantor Rosenblatt were not his own
compositions. The recording itself has Yellens name next to the song title in
parentheses, but it does not explicitly state that he is the lyricist.
Whether or not G. Engel was aware that Yossele Rosenblatt did not write
Mayn Yiddishe Momme, the reasons for attributing the song to the cantor
are fairly clear. Including a song by a non-religious author in an anthology
published by and for Hasidim would be unacceptable in the community. The
fact that a respected and well-loved religious performer had the song in his
repertoire, however, legitimizes it in this context. Attributing the popular
song to an acceptable source allowed for its inclusion in the book.
70 First published in 1911 by Susman Kisselgof, ed. Song Collection for the Jewish School and Family (St. Petersburg, 1911). The editors of a Leo Zeitlin anthology
add, Although it looks as if it could be a Hasidic song, Chana Mlotek thinks that it
is not, and Idelsohn labels it as parodic. Leo Zeitlin, Chamber Music, eds. P. Eisenstein
Baker and R. S. Nelson (Middleton, Wisconsin: A-R Editions, Inc., 2008).
71 Jack Gottlieb, Funny, It Doesnt Sound Jewish: How Yiddish Songs and Synagogue Melodies Influenced Tin Pan Alley, Broadway, and Hollywood. SUNY Series in
Modern Jewish Literature and Culture (New York: State University of New York Press,
2004), 253.
175
176
solely for the educational or spiritual enrichment of the community and not
for personal advancement, women and girls almost never seek to attach their
names to their works, unless they earn their livelihood from commercially
selling recordings of their pieces. Furthermore, the most common method
of distributing songs among girls in the community is on lyric sheets that
provide no additional information; thus, any association a song initially had
with an author easily becomes lost. The resulting lack of attention to provenance nurtures a tradition of freely borrowing melodies and occasionally even
songs from sources from both within and without the Hasidic community.
As the outside pieces are incorporated into the Hasidic female repertoire,
they undergo the process of acquiring kosher Yiddish lyrics and a folk
status with no connection to the original objectionable author. Those songs
in the Hasidic womens repertoire that are recorded by male Hasidic artists,
however, usually are associated with their apparent author.
IV. Perceptions of Singing
Er zingt zeyer hartsik (the way he sings is very heartfelt) thus answered
almost all of my informants when asked how they would describe a good
singer. The perceptions that Hasidic women have of singing reveal much
about the values of Hasidic society and about the role of Kol bishah. This
section of the article will explore what Hasidic women value in the singing
of others, how they perceive their own singing, and how Kol bishah affects
their singing.
During interviews, I asked Hasidic women, What words would you use to
describe someone who sings well? The answers are revealing: The way he
sings is very hartsik [heartfelt], hartsik is very good. Sometimes someone
will have a nice voice, or he sings hartsik. He sings so that it reaches your
soul. He sings hartsik, he makes someone happy or makes someone cry. He
sings with heart, naturally, not forced, warm, lively. I would say he sings so
heartfelt When you hear him singing, your heart is captured.
The pattern that emerges from these answers is that importance is placed
primarily on the emotive quality of the performance. Although a few of the
women mentioned the value of carrying a tune or singing like a bird, most
of them spoke little, if at all, about pitch, volume, vocal range, arrangement,
or ornamentation. It appears that listening to singing is perceived as more
of a spiritual experience rather than an aesthetic one. Since the Hasidim feel
that music can affect your soul, the effectiveness of a singer depends on
his or her ability to successfully touch the listeners heart or soul. Suri Gold
elaborated:
177
What makes a voice good? I guess the heart, a big heart. Devotion, a love
for songs and singing, wanting to inspire other people, make peoples lives
happy Some people can go very high, some people just carry a tune very
well, some people sing very heartwarming.
Analogous to the preference for heartfelt singing over pitch or vocal range,
when I asked informants what kind of music they like and whom they enjoyed
listening to, they emphasized song content over singing ability. I dont look
up to someone just because they can sing nicely. Its really not important. If
someone makes a nice song, then Ill be impressed. But singing nicely is not
important, said Dvoyre Horowitz. Esty Kahan declared, For me, content
is important, not the voice. Because singing plays the most active role in a
womans life during her school years, women tend to think of songs as vehicles
for education and carriers of moral messages. They are thus used to identifying more with the songs content than performance, looking for meaning in
the words: I like [songs] with words, I like when words have a meaning, I
like more with [words] than not, said Suri Gold.
My observations of girls performances confirm the relative insignificance
of pitch and vocal range in singing. In most performances, girls perform in
choirs, with occasional solos. In performances that are based on a play, the
main characters of the play have some solo numbers. I have found that in most
cases, the girls chosen to have the solos and lead parts generally do not have
the best pitch or vocal range; they often sing off key, sometimes so tunelessly
that it is difficult to discern the melody. What does seem to be valued, albeit
not consciously, is volume. Women who can sing loudly identify themselves
as having good voices, while women who maintain pitch better but sing softly
insist that they are not good singers.
There are several possible explanations for this phenomenon. One of the
fundamental tenets of Hasidism is the necessity for kavoneh, or intent, during prayer. Among men, kavoneh may manifest itself in increased volume,
singing, and/or dancing to reach higher spiritual levels. Because the vast
majority of the songs that women sing are religious or spiritual in nature, I
asked several informants if the emphasis on volume was related to kavoneh.
The informants, however, did not believe this to be the case. Simi Spitzer
said that kavoneh is reserved for prayer and does not apply to Yiddish songs,
regardless of their content.
Simi proposed several other potential reasons for the importance of singing
loudly: When a teacher tells students to sing louder, maybe she wants them
to have more spirit and make it more lively, or maybe they were practicing,
maybe she wanted it to stick in their heads better? Maybe she wanted them
to remember it well. Several informants agreed that increased volume makes
178
the singing more lively, which improves the learning experience. Suri Gold
added that girls who get solos have to be courageous enough to get up on a
stage and sing, and this courage is often expressed with loud voices.
The preference for loud singing in the performance setting stands notably
in contrast to the great care taken to observe the rules of Kol bishah. In a
recently-published book of interviews with female Hasidic educators in Israel,
the principal of the Belz Bais Malka school is quoted on this topic:
With regard to the girls singing, even within the school, we are very
careful because kol bishah ervah (it is forbidden for a man to listen to
the sound of a womans singing voice because is considered erotic). We
have very specific conditions for where and when they may sing. Under
the age of nine, the student is considered not yet at the age of khinukh
[education] in this matter. After the age of nine, singing is only allowed
with all windows closed and in a place where it is certain that no men
are in the vicinity. When we have a school sholosh seudos (third Sabbath
meal) for the students, it is much easier today than it was years ago. Even
ten years ago, without air conditioning here in Eretz Yisroel (the Land of
Israel) we closed all the windows and it was very hot. But we cannot allow
our singing to be heard by men.75
Yes often when the brother-in-law comes over and sits at the table [on
Friday nights] so I cant sing along zmires, oftentimes I would want to sing
along but I cant [Also] it happens sometimes for example that one hears
a truck and theres music [coming from the truck] and I would want to
sing along, but I dont sing. On the street, you dont sing. Is it hard? No.
Doesnt matter. I know that [one must not sing] outside. I grew up with
it, so its not hard.76
The description of a brother-in-law preventing women from singing recurred in several other interviews. In every case, the woman expressed feelings of frustration but quickly added that she does not really mind it, since
it is mandated by the Torah. Leye Grinberg explained:
Once I had a situation, I was at my father-in-laws house. All the men went
to synagogue. We [the women] wanted to sing. But it happened that my
75 Interview with the principal of the Belz Bais Malka school in B. C. Glaberson,
Educating Our Daughters, Why?: Extraordinary Interviews with Women Educators
(Jerusalem: Feldheim Publishers, 2006), 92.
76 Spitzer 2008.
179
brother-in-law was there. Then I feel frustrated, because just like that I can
feel often frustrated, but we are Jews, we have a Torah and thank G-d!77
Leye also mentioned that she can not even always sing in her own home,
because she has paper thin walls and when her male neighbor is home,
he can hear her. During our interview, Leye was able to sing, because the
neighbor was at work. She continued, Friday night, when I hear he goes to
synagogue, then I know that I can sing.
Hasidic women, particularly young women, are very conscious of Kol
bishah and learn to modulate their voices according to the occasion. Later
on in the interview, Leye became concerned with the volume of her singing
voice, because the window was open. Since I had told her that I have interviewed many other women, she began asking me how the volume of her voice
compared to that of my other informants:
I dont want people to hear me outside. Do you think they can hear me
outside? Do I sing loudly? The window is open a little. Do I sing more
loudly than youve heard other people singing? My voice is loud. Youve
heard already, you go around listening to singing. Do I sing louder? I have
a very loud voice. I ask if it can be heard outside. I hope not.78
I assured Leye that it was very unlikely that anyone outside could hear her,
considering that her apartment is on the fifth floor of her building.
As with many other aspects of singing, older women tend to be somewhat
more lenient with adhering to Kol bishah. At one point during an interview
with Leye Levinson and her daughters, Ms. Levinson opened the window,
because the room was getting very warm. Her 11-year-old daughter expressed
concern: Mother, its Kol bishah, leave it closed. Ms. Levinson responded
confidently, Nobody can hear.79 The disagreement occurred partially because
girls are taught to be especially stringent with the law until they learn when
there is or is not a danger of being heard. Older women, however, have more
experience and can make educated decisions about when the prohibition is
applicable.
The commitment to avoiding Kol bishah affects women in other ways,
as well. I would like to propose that because they associate singing with the
dangers of being heard by men, women often have the perception that they do
not ever sing or know any songs, even when this is clearly not the case. On a
number of occasions, at the beginning of an interview, a woman would deny
knowing or singing songs; after some specific leading questions, however,
77
78
79
Grinberg 2008.
Ibid.
Levinson 2007.
180
she would agree that she does sing in certain contexts and would proceed to
sing extensively.
For instance, when I asked Blumi Klein if she ever sings, she said no. When
I prompted, Even when youre at home? Or to your children? she responded,
I sing to myself, to my children a little bit.80 Taybl Glickman had told me
over the phone that she knew a number of Yiddish songs but did not have
a good voice; when I came to her house for the interview, however, she said
Im not into singing and insisted that she never sings.81 When I reminded
Taybl of our earlier conversation, she reluctantly conceded that she did know
a few songs. When she began singing, it turned out that one of the songs was
actually a lengthy ballad to which she knew all of the words.
The most telling example came from Mrs. Brandwein. When I first approached her on the street in Williamsburg, she told me that women do not
have time for singing and therefore she could not help me. When I insisted,
asking if she could suggest someone else for me to contact, she revealed that
she had a notebook full of songs in her purse. The fact that she was carrying
songs around was particularly remarkable, because it turned out that Mrs.
Brandwein lives in Monroe, not in Williamsburg, and she was in Brooklyn
just for the day to visit her elderly mother. I asked why Mrs. Brandwein had
brought the notebook, and she replied, My mother likes me to sing for her
she doesnt listen to all these tapes and CDs.82 Despite Mrs. Brandweins initial
claims to the contrary, it turned out that she does have time for singing: she
sings at least once a week when she visits her mother.
While the restrictions of Kol bishah do complicate the relationship of
women to singing, obliging them to be vigilantly conscious of their environment and the volume of their voices, women, and particularly girls, are able
to express themselves uninhibitedly in this medium on various occasions. As
Suri Gold observed, So because we dont have a drive for it, its not public,
and its not so professional, but its great, and the songs really touch people,
and that everyone knows.83 Even without voice lessons or formal training,
women and girls are able to engage in performances that delight the haymish
female audience, as it is the content and emotive quality of singing that is
valued in the community.
If I were to leave my readers with one set of lyrics that summed up the role
of song in a Hasidic womans life cycle while epitomizing the emotive quality
80
81
82
83
181
Mother
182
Ester-Basya (Asya) Vaisman holds degrees in Yiddish and Linguistics from Barnard
College and Harvard University, where she is currently writing her dissertation on
the subject of this article. A native of Chernovtsy, Ukraine, where seemingly even
the air is filled with Yiddish, she has undertaken to counteract the trend among
most American Jews to dismiss Yiddish as either a dying language or one that is
confined to the ultra-Orthodox world. For Asya Vaisman and other researchers
like her, the study of Yiddish means not only to read about it in libraries, but to
internalize its rich culture by speaking the language every day of ones life.
183
This cat cut the 20th century in halfhis career having flourished at its midpoint, 1947- 1957.
He wasnt really a cat, but a Kohenwhose family name, rather than Katz,
likely had been Kates, whichafter adjusting for the Lithuanian inflection
stands for kohen tsedek, i.e., p.c. priest.
Mickey Katz, 1909-1985his dates correspond to those of Benny Goodmanwas a virtuoso clarinetist, vocalist, swing/klezmer band leader-arranger,
comic and bal-mishpokhe (family-man), who successfully passed on much
of his trade to a son, Joel Gray, (the other one also is no bum). Listen to his
original sides, recorded on major labels, plus, to the 1993 CD of his songs
by black clarinetist Don Byron, who has been associated with both the New
England Conservatory of Music and the Klezmer Conservatory Band (KCB)
formed by one-time NEC students.
The Katz presentation at its best is a raucous Yiddish-English mixture, cascading into klezmer riffs and returning to a slightly slower reprise. In purely
instrumental selections, hed take a Hava Nagila, and play it not as a bonfire
dance nor as a symphonic special, but as a working band would play it.
Although American-born, his Yiddish was faultless and earthy. He represented the children of immigrant America of that time. His core audience
was familiar with Yiddish, but it would pass from their lives. If their children
took it up, it would come through the academyyou can demonstrate Katzs
language leaps onstage, but you cant teach it in a classroom. You wont hear it
at Jewish Studies departments at Columbia, Harvard, NYU or YIVO. His was a
stage language, one a salesman might pick up in retelling a joke to prospective
customer. Katz ended an era, but he did so consciously and without complaining. He knew and loved show business and accepted its hardships.
So rooted was Katz in the Jewish America of his day that he directly derived
from U.S. cultural mustering for the fight against Hitler. Heres the sequence:
In 1942, for a Disney movie cartoon, Donald Duck in Nutziland, Spike Jones
and His City Slickers contributed the song, Der Fuehrers Face, sung by
Carl Grayson. This ditty became a patriotic anthem; I, a generation later, as
a rabbi in Connecticut, interpolated it into my Purim Megillah reading. Yet,
its popularity did not stop after the World War II dismissal of Grayson from
the band, for being more shikker than Slicker.
Thats when Katz joined Jones as a clarinet sideman and maker of gluggglugga series of throat noises associated with the Slickersthat Katz, after
a brief stay with that groupoccasionally also used with his own ensembles.
184
Such sounds would link for the listener Katz with Jones, and showed that
Mickey prided himself on two traditions: one Yiddish, the other American.
His own bands often included major Jewish-American swing instrumentalists, also practiced in the Yiddish-wedding repertoire.
I have three Katz favorites that parody pop hits of their time: Mechaye
War Chant itself a parody of Spike Jones parody of Hawaiian War Chant,
Kiss of Meyer, and Geshray Fun a Vilder Katshke. The last is spelled in
various ways, and is covered (given its own later rendition) by the KCB.
Its lyrics bear comparing those of Chicken, originally recorded by Nellie
Casman, and later covered by Henry Sapoznik. The mortal danger to highly
articulate fowl strikes close to home, certainly for Jews, where the shoykhet
(slaughterer) is not a mitzvah-performer, but a villain.
A good parodist brings out meanings from a song that might have escaped
even an author; Katz and Jones were major American mid-20th century
parodists. The aforementioned three of my favorite Katz performances are
distinctive for their lack of shmaltz, their listenabilitywhere features can
be picked out and isolated, and the dexterity of their blend of languages and
musical formssectioned off by abrupt halts before jumping to a new section of a song.
Katz could talk grob (grossly; read his 1977 autobiography, Papa Play for
Me), but that was not the essence of his oeuvre; nor was it of the Barton Brothers, whose work had inspired Katzs own career on the Jewish circuit.
In 1968, I chanted High Holiday services at a mid-sized hotel in the Catskills.
To my shock and pleasure, after the meal on the first night of Rosh Hashanah,
out came the Barton Brothers with their repertoire and vulgar rhymes. They
were accompanied now not by the Epstein Brothers Orchestra, as in their
prime, but by a solo pianist, kind enough to lend me their microphone the
next morning for Musaf.
For years afterward I listened repeatedly to the Barton records. The melding of their jokes and singing with the Epsteins playing provides a musical
comedy treat of a high order. Gross? They, like Katz, were performing just as
the sexual revolution was getting under waynot that they were promoting
it. Part of their job was to help listeners adjust to greater social freedoms while
still maintaining family life. Their vulgarities hopefully aided in achieving
that goal. One can still hear the Bartons occasionally on mainstream radio.
Michael Savage, a nightly talk-show host, plays their signature song, Joe and
Paul, when he feels like recreating a more genteel era.
Current Yiddish musical theater offerings often address groups who have
till now been deprived of both Yiddish and its lorelike recent immigrants
from Russia, or the American-born youth who pick up their knowledge, often
185
Coda yeteira:
Shortly before I came up with these lyrics, a student taking a doctorate in
computersa neighbor who used to babysit our catswhose English was
186
competent but carried the inflection of his native China, asked me for a
sentence in Yiddish or Hebrew that he could surprise a professor with who
was always bumbling to him some phrase in Chinese.
Sholem aleykhem, reb yid, came to mind, but soon passed. The choice
became obvious, which the neighbor heard, rehearsed and inflected better
than his English-language speech: Som fon iz shlekht?! (Whats wrong with
some fun?!)a line from Mechaye War Chant.
The professor was bowled over; his soul had been touched from an unlikely
source.
If you, too, wish to try the Katzism, remember: everything is in the inflectionplus, do not forget the leer; it will not make you a sleazeball, as it did
not make one of the Cutting Edge Cat.
A frequent contributor, Rabbi Gershon Freidlin, Pittsburgh, serves on the Journals
editorial board. His article Ad Yom Moto: Lifes a Game? appeared in the Fall
2008 issue. In 1998, at the 50th Anniversary Convention of the Cantors Assembly, he
sang, It Shouldnt Happen to a Dog, by Menashe Skulnik, a contemporary of Mickey
Katz.
187
188
In fact, all bad habits of the throat are merely efforts of protection against
clumsy management of the breath. Faulty singing is caused by awkward
respiration. The foundation of all vocal study lies in the control of the
breath. The stroke of the glottis (violent attack) which many singing
teachers advise is absolutely harmful to the voice.1
It is indispensible, for the singer, to properly take and control the inhalation
and exhalation of his breath; for breathing is, so to speak, the regulator
of singing.2
The lungs and diaphragm and the whole breathing apparatus must be
understood by the singer, because the foundation of singing is breathing
and breath control A singer must be able to rely on his/her breath, just
as he/she relies upon the solidity of the ground beneath his/her feet.3
The first two rules of the historical Bel Canto era of singing4 (approx. 18201920) are: no action in the throat, and no change of emission. Every singer of
the golden age of beautiful singing who wrote a book about their approach to
the production of the singing tone, repeatedly emphasizes the importance of
the relaxed, totally free throat and proper breathing techniques which permit
the throat, tongue and facial muscles to remain free. Professional singers
are expected to be able to fulfill the requirements of the operatic repertoire
1
Giovanni Battista Lamperti (1839-1910), Vocal Wisdom (New York: Taplinger),
1931/1957: 5, 13, 6.
2
Manuel Garcia II, A Complete Treatise on the Art of Singing, Part I (New York:
DaCapo Press), 1984: 45; Garcia is credited with the invention of the Laryngoscope in
1854.
3
Luisa Tetrazzini, The Art of Singing (New York: Dover edition) 1975: 11.
4
A Note of Interest: The reign of Sir Rudolph Bing at the Metropolitan Opera
from 1950 to 1972 is considered by avid opera fans to have been the second Golden
Age of Bel Canto.
189
(and great cantorial repertoire), genre(s) of vocal music that require, by their
nature, beauty of tone, projection, flexibility, range, emotional expression,
vocal stamina and vocal longevity. At one point in his book, Enrico Caruso
(1873-1921) refers to the massive breathing essential to good singing.5
A list of these singing authors includes Enrico Caruso, Luisa Tetrazzini
(1871- 1940), Lilli Lehmann (1848-1929) and Lillian Nordica (1857-1914). I
recommend that singers read as much material as possible about the vocal
methods of these artists, especially the books written by the artists themselves. It seems obvious, therefore, in order for the throat to remain free
while singing or speaking, action must happen elsewhere in the body. It is
this process and the combined activities of the muscles of the body and the
breathing system that we will explore, and hopefully, begin to understand
and practice correctly.
The ability to know what is good for you is so rare among singers that it
is often never discussed at all. It does not occur to many coaches and teachers to even broach the subject. Yet, when the Metropolitan Opera baritone
Robert Merrill (1917-2004) presented a Master Class for singers during my
summer opera program at Sarah Lawrence College in 1978, he answered this
question very succinctly. During the question and answer period following
the Master Class, Mr. Merrill was asked by a young singer what was the most
important consideration in order to make a professional career. He answered:
You have to have the talent, gift or intelligence to know what is good for you
specifically. You have to be able to run everything through your mind You
will hear a lot of nonsense and garbage, most of which, if you followed the
advice given, would eventually ruin your voice!
Mr. Merrills insight brings to mind Mahatma Gandhis famous admonition: It is because we have at the present moment everybody claiming their
own right of conscience without going through any discipline whatsoever,
5
Enrico Caruso.,The Art of Singing (New York edition: Dover) 1975: 46.
6
Pamela Kordan Trimble, Kol Hazzanit: Alternatives to the Vocal Requirements and Expression of Traditional Hazzanut for Women Cantors, Journal of Synagogue Music, Vol. 32 (New York: Cantors Assembly), 1972: 105.
190
191
Fig. 25Vowel A
In this illustration the great tenor is singing the vowel A, with very dramatic expression.
Note how wide his mouth is open, which his lips are completely relaxed, and his tongue lies
flat on the floor of the mouth, its tip in contact with the interior of the lower lip
192
Fig. 26Vowel E
This illustration shows Caruso singing the vowel E, with lyric expression. The mouth is half
open when compared to the size of the vowel A. Note the marked relaxation of the masque
and tongue which, as in A, is in contact with the interior of the lower lip.
achieve it the singer must learn to use only the essential muscle groups at the
correct time, as one unit (this is the biomechanical function that becomes
habitual with proper training), necessary to produce a free and healthy tone,
relative to the individuals vocal potential and at that particular moment in
each singers development.
One of the reasons I have the patience necessary to re-train singers with
damaged vocal cords is that I was and still am totally fascinated with the
idea that human beings can use their voices to create extraordinary musical
193
Fig. 27Vowel I
In this illustration Caruso is seen singing the vowel I. Besides the relaxation of the masque,
as in the vowels A and E, and its characteristic expression which make it almost evident when
the focus of the voice is centers, his lips approach withour the slightest evidence of tension.
sounds combined with emotional expression. The basic musical scales and
various exercises never, for an instant, bore me. I find the process challenging; it requires intense concentration, physical development and dedication
by both teacher and student. Repetition of correct function under expert
supervision is essential to incorporate the physical concepts into a singers
working technique as quickly as possible. I can still sit at the piano, day after
day, playing the same simple scales and feel the way a prospector must feel
during the search for buried treasure. As the singer achieves looseness of
194
Fig. 28Vowel O
This illustration shows Caruso singing the vowel O. The prominent feature lies in the shape
of the lips, which are protruded, making a megaphone for the vowel. The lips, however, are
in completer relaxation.
the tongue and throat, first a little gold dust, then a few nuggets and signs of
beauty of tone begin to appear or reappear. The excitement I feel as a teacher
whenever a pupil succeeds in finding the zone must be similar to what the
prospector feels when he first finds gold dust. Somewhere beneath the dust
are the nuggets and then, with enough digging, the mother lode!
Wilbur Gould, MD (1919-1994) was world renowned as the great throat
specialist for professional singers. He was Chief of Otolaryngology at Lenox
Hill Hospital in Manhattan, and throughout my New York City teaching years
195
Fig. 29Vowel U
This illustration shows Caruso singing the vowel U. In this vowel the prominent role is
played by the lips, which by protruding markedly give the shape to for the vowel U.
10
If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where
they should be; now put the foundations under them.10
Henry David Thoreau, On Walden Pond.
196
Down to Basics
The essential building blocks which are integral to my teaching reflect many
influences, including the encounters and friendships I nurtured with great
singers during my developmental and professional years as an operatic tenor.
From 1960 through 1975, I met, sang for, and took lessons and coachings with
a number of historically famous singers. My great friend, Lawrence Shadur
(1935-1991), a wonderful baritone with the Metropolitan Opera, was Lauritz
Melchiors god-son. Through Larry I had the opportunity to meet Melchior
(1890-1972) and Richard Tucker (1913-1975). Trying to find out technical
secrets from these masterful singers was like attempting to study with the
inscrutable Zen master described in Eugen Herrigels book, Zen in the Art of
Archery.11 I was young and full of enthusiasm, and the advice given by these
legendary singers seemed so vague and undefined. Management and use of
the breath, however, lay at the root of all discussion.
When I first sang for Richard Tucker his immediate reaction was: Get a
good breath under that. How? I asked, what should I do? Now, one must
understand that Tucker was the master technicianthe so-called tenors
tenorbecause of his great technique. He could sing everything from Mozart
to Verdi, and beautifully. My favorites among the roles he sang were from La
forza del destino, Un ballo in maschera and I vespri siciliani. He was simply
the best Verdi tenor I ever heard (but I loved his singing in Mozarts Cosi fan
tutte, as well).
At a later coaching session Mr. Tucker said: Ive only got two things to tell
you, kid. Breathe behind you and keep it light, like this. He then demonstrated
via a gigantic, thrilling, free high note that seemed to threaten the layers of
paint on the walls. I was sure the rafters would come down from the incredible
vibrations bouncing from the walls and off my head. When the tone ended,
Mr. Tucker said, See what I mean? Always keep it light. It is all done by the
breath and not with the vocal cords.
Ill never forget that day! It was 1962, I was a 24-year-old lyric tenor with
great promise. After a few months of study, Mr. Tucker said, too bad Paul
Althouse died (his only voice teacher) he could have helped you. He repeatedly added: Breathe in your lower back and dont let the belly wall or
the chest move at all, especially on the attack. This was the same approach
to breath control I learned in conversations with Cantor Charles Bloch in
New York and with Cantor Irving Bushman in Cleveland (at the time I served
as Chair of Vocal Studies at the Cleveland Institute of Music where Cantor
Bushman taught.) Cantors Bloch and Bushman were both beautiful singers
who enjoyed very long and successful careers.
11 Eugen Herrigel. Zen in the Art of Archery (New York: Vintage Spiritual Classics), 1989
197
Great singers echo again and again the same approach to breath control.
Here are some insights from the very best among them:
To take a full breath properly the chest must be raised at the moment
that the abdomen sinks in. Then with a gradual expulsion of the breath,
a contrary movement takes place. It is this ability to take in an adequate
supply of breath and to retain it until required that makes or, by contrary,
mars all singing With the acquisition of this art of respiration, the student
has gone a considerable step on the road to Parnassus.12
I learned this: To draw in the abdomen, raise the chest and hold the breath
in it by the aid of the ribs; in letting out the breath gradually to relax the
abdomen A horn player in Berlin with the power of holding a very long
breath, once told me, in answer to a question, that he drew in his abdomen
very strongly, but immediately relaxed his abdomen again as soon as he
began to play. I tried the same thing with the best results... The breath
pressure, which includes abdomen, diaphragm and chest muscles, is
often named Atemstauen (breath stop) or appoggio, the breath lean
or breath prop.14
Role models
We need to discuss the singing methods that have proven successful for singers
in avoiding vocal problems over the length of their careers. As mentioned, all
vocal success and all vocal problems result from management or mismanagement of the breath. An example of the latter, breathiness, is considered bad
12 Enrico Caruso. The Art of Singing (New York:Dover edition), 1975: 53-54;
first Publication by The Metropolitan Co., 1909.
13 Luisa Tetrazzini. The Art of Singing (New York: Dover edition) 1975: 11-12,
15-16; first Publication by The Metropolitan Co., 1909.
14 Lilli Lehmann, How to Sing (New York: MacMillan), 1949: 14, 23.
198
in classical singing and it can cause many vocal problems like hoarseness,
nodules, bowed vocal cords, etc. Any excess breath passing through the glottis, especially under pressure, can be disastrous for the vocal cords.
I met the great tenor Giovanni Martinelli at the Metropolitan Opera in
1961. He was seventy-seven years old at the time and still singing! I, of course,
asked him what his ideas were about how to sing. He answered very energetically, primo respirare (first breathe), poi appoggiare (then lean). I asked him,
how should I breathe? He grabbed my lower ribs in the back and said qui,
qui, e profondo (here, here, and deeply).
I heard Lauritz Melchior sing a concert when he was seventy years old. His
voice was still clear, strong and remarkably youthful. When I asked him to
describe his singing technique, he began to explain how he breathed. It was
the same story. Breathe into the lower back, lean on the diaphragm, never
sing into the nose. Let the breath open the throat. No action in the throat,
only reaction to the low back breathing.
George London (1920-1985), with whom I had a wonderful working relationship, said, The rib cage should not move independently. The ribs move
only if the breath moves them. He called the process the machine and said
to me many times, Mike, make the students work the machine. Open the
back, close the back, repeatedly!
There were many instances over the years when I would ask singers how
they sang. Cesare Siepi (1923- ) and Cornell MacNeil (1922- ) would not say
a word about technique. Jan Peerce (1904-1984) told me, Dont move anything in the front of your body when you breathe or sing. Dame Eva Turner
(1892-1990) was the only singer I ever met who used the term psychomotor system. In 1962, long before computers were so common, we sat down
together and talked about vocal technique. The mind must be programmed
through repetition to do the right thing as a habit, she explained, thus training
the psycho-motor system to sing for you. How and what must I repeat over
and over, Dame Eva? I asked. Again I heard those magic words: Breathe,
breathe, breathe, and no action in the throat!
What she then added has stayed with me for decades: Even a grain of salt
or sugar dropped in the throat would be too much action.
In sum, to this point
Breathe into the lower back, either drawing the abdomen in or not allowing the
belly to move outward (to remain still), thus sending the inspiration toward the
back, into the lower portion of the lungs. Make no action in the throat or jaw
or tongue (imagine an invisible throat, an invisible jaw, an invisible tongue, as
199
if you could pass your hand through them, as if nothing were there). Only the
tip of the tongue should be allowed to move to make the dental consonants,
which is an up-and-down movement that does not react in the throat. No
forward or backward movement of the tongue is needed. Try not to pull the
tongue back into the throat (i.e., no action in the tongue or throat). Breathe
in a way that relaxes the throat, much like yoga breathing.
Robert Merrill and the Danish tenor Helge Roswaenge (1897-1972) were
advanced yoga practitioners and when asked how to breathe, they both demonstrated deep, slow, low back yoga breathing. Strong yoga breathing, like any
strong form of back breathing, causes a completely relaxed tongue, allowing
the tongue to depress in the back using only the power of the inhalation and
thus creating a v-shaped groove down the center of the tongue (sometimes
called inhaling the tongue). This type of breathing will also cause the soft
palate to rise in an upward and forward direction. Such action will seal off
the naso-pharynx, creating a resonating cavity behind the nose. This is the
resonance referred to as the mask. Singing in the mask is different from
singing in the nose. If the singer sings NG as in the word hung, a resonance
line can be identified across the bridge of the nose. Here is Caruso again:
Never sing into the nasal cavityit is against all the rules of song. There
are a number of wrong sorts of voices, which should be mentioned to be
shunnedthe white voice, the throaty voice, the breathy voice, the nasal
voice and the bleat (goat) voice... After all, those who have practiced the
art of right breathing need have none of the defects mentioned above.15
The singer must avoid placing the voice into the hung line. Below the
hung line causes the voice to resonate in the throat cavity and bring up a
predominant chest resonance into the tonewhich has no carrying power
over an orchestra. The true mask is found over the hung line. If a singer wishes
to direct the voice by singing into the mask, every tone and every vowel
must be placed over the hung line. This would explain whyto eliminate
nasalitythe Swedish tenor Jussi Bjoerling (1911-1960) and the Bulgarian
soprano Zinka Milanov (1906-1989) insisted that young singers practice
holding the nose closed with the fingers to make sure that no tones escaped
into the hung line.
Metropolitan Opera baritone Leonard Warren (1911-1960) used to vocalize using the B consonant. We could hear him backstage at the met singing
bah, beh, bee, boh, boo, and blah, bleh, blee, bloh, bloo. Vocalizing on the
consonant B causes the nose to close (as opposed to the consonant M
which opens the nose). The students called him The Genie because he lived
in a bottle (he sounded so stopped up!)
15
Enrico Caruso, The Art of Singing (New York: Dover edition), 1975: 57-58
200
Both the Australian soprano Joan Sutherland (1926 - ) and the Italian tenor
Lucianno Pavarotti (1935-2007) used to lean forward while singing, as did
the Polish tenor Jan Kiepura (1902-1966). They held the chest out, keeping it
still and not allowing the resonating breath within it to collapse. The Italian
tenor Benjamino Gigli (1890-1957) also kept the chest high and out while
singing.
Much of this discussion could be eliminated if todays young singers would
go back to the old, proven system of breathing and/or learn yoga breathing.
The soft palate will automatically find its correct function and position.
One of my students counted the number of times Enrico Caruso mentioned
breathing in his book. The count was 60 times! Considering the small size of
the book, Caruso was obsessed with the art of right breathing.16
It seems strange that contemporary singers dont avail themselves of books
written by great singers of the past. Both Enrico Caruso and Lilli Lehman
described their breathing function very clearly (as we have seen from the
many quotations above, drawn from both of their books. The gist of their
vocal wisdom is that the abdomen be drawn in while inhaling and let out
while singing. Caruso said to draw the abdomen in while inhaling and do a
contrary motion while singing. Lilli Lehman described the breath jerk, a
deliberate violent jerking in of the abdomen when inhaling.
My wife and I once interviewed Dr. Maurice Sheetz who, at that that time
was a Pulmonary and Critical Care Medicine Fellow at St. Lukes/Roosevelt
Hospital in New York City. I asked him what he thought about the type of
breathing technique that Caruso, Tetrazzini and Lehman describe in their
books. Why would these great historical singers develop a breathing technique
(the inhalation and exhalation of the breath/ appoggio, etc.) in a manner opposite to what is being taught to our young singers in universities and music
conservatories of today?
Dr. Sheetzs response amazed me in its immediacy and directness. He said
that it was obvious that Caruso, Tetrazzini and Lehman wanted to force the
back half of the diaphragm down, thus increasing the breath capacity to almost
double the amount that is achieved by letting the belly go out while inhaling.
He went on to describe that image in more technical terms:
16
It is like saying that at one end of your body youve this tremendous pressure
of breath against your sternum, but at the same time you are learning to
relax the muscles from the neck upThere are these little muscles that
surround the vocal cords; the ones in the back that change the length and
tension of your cords are called the Arytenoids. What happens is that
you build up pressure against your sternum; then you have to learn how
to relax the muscles surrounding the vocal cords so that you can open
Ibid. p. 58.
201
your throat and at the same time slowly release some of the pressure, not
all of the expiration, directly against your vocal cords. It is analogous to
banking a pool ball off a side cushion instead of going directly through;
you divert that air so that it goes through in a controlled amount, as little
as possible.
Enrico Caruso, The Art of Singing (New York: Dover edition), 1975: 54.
202
definitely help develop breathing control and capacity. The guiding principle
here is: Ritual eliminates choice.
As with all physical exercise systems, the person involved is all-important
and the exercise should be helpful and not harmful in any way. This is not
to say that a little pain must be avoided! As the sports adage goes: no pain,
no gain. Almost every physical exercise we begin has some discomfort that
is part of the price we pay to get into good physical shape. Every artist must
ultimately find his or her way. There is always a threshold of difficulty in everything we aspire to accomplish. The art of singing is fraught with problems
and mountains of material that has to be learned. It is up to the individual
artist to decide how many languages to learn or how many roles to learn,
and how much physical exercise to undertake. I recommend that all forms
of exercise such as aerobics or weight lifting be avoided, unless a doctor who
is familiar with the individual aspirant should approve these or any other
forms of exercise.
If the doctor approves physical exercise for you, I would recommend that
it be the old exercise systems that have had the bugs worked out of them.
Yoga and Tai Chi are ancient, as are the other Martial Arts practiced in Eastern Asia. Any of these systems taught in a reputable school by a qualified
instructor are safe for practitionersincluding singers. Running is good for
general conditioning but does not seem to increase breath capacity. Yoga,
swimming, and playing a wind or brass instrument increase breath capacity
dramatically.
Posture #1: Lolling About
Sit in a large easy chair and lean back all the way. Slide the pelvis forward
toward the edge of the seat while leaning the head well back. The neck should
be totally relaxed and supported by the high back of the chair, thereby avoiding any form of tension in any part of the neck.
Place both hands on the lower abdomen, right above the pubic bone. Inhale
through the nose silently with the lips closed for as long as possible by drawing
the abdomen in slowly with the hands pressed against the abdominal wall.
The breath should be drawn into the lower rear quadrant of the lungs. At this
time dont worry about the chest, which should be very relaxed. Expansion
of the chest will be developed through other exercises at a later time. At this
stage, we are concerned with the freedom and expansion of the lower back
and the lower lungs while maintaining a totally loose throat and neck. Hold
203
the breath for a moment as the lungs are completely filled. There should be
no tension in the vocal cords.
As mentioned earlier, to avoid the glottal stop, Lilli Lehmann taught the
breath jerk, a sudden jerking in of the lower abdomen at the moment of inhaling. Geraldine Farrar (1882-1967), Carusos favorite singing partner, used
this same breathing method, learned from Lilli Lehmann, her teacher. At this
moment, reverse the process by relaxing the belly (abdominal wall) outward,
slowly. sing a low, comfortable note without any particular criteria in terms
of volume or quality, avoiding a glottal stroke or any tension in the throat.
Avoid any flexing of the muscles in the abdomen. While sustaining the sung
note as the lower belly (abdomen) moves continually outward, use the hands
to disturb the tone by moving (shaking or wiggling) the abdominal wall in
and out (not up and down) rapidly until a rhythmic disturbance of the sung
tone is achieved. It is sometimes better to make a fist with one hand and use
the other hand to press it inward. It is important to note that the movement
of the fist or hands must be in an inward (towards the spine) direction and
outwards (away from the spine) direction, alternating fairly rapidly.
As soon as the rapid movement causes an audible response in the voice,
change the tempo of the pulsing with the hands to a slower or faster rhythm,
eventually creating a range from slow to a very fast, almost quivering speed
and back again to very slowly. The movements should not be vertical (up
and down) in relation to the body, but at a 90-degree angle relative to the
abdomen. All of this movement should be done while holding a long note in
a comfortable part of the voice. The pitch can be lower or higher, and even
to the very highest notes of the range, as long as the voice responds and the
lower belly remains flexible. It is important that the sound be continuous
and not crack or break.
The abdominal wall should be completely loose during inhalation and exhalation. This can be achieved by continually moving (wiggling or shaking)
the belly with the hands during inhalation and exhalation.
The object of this exercise is to loosen all tension in the abdomen, throat
and viscera in general, and to encourage breathing into the lower back. It is
not necessary to pull in the abdomen while breathing in (or to use the breath
jerk) if the inhalation sinks deeply into the lower back. However, most singers tend to create tension in the abdomen and all abdominal tension must be
eliminated in order to maintain a free throat. Lolling is a loosening and freeing
exercise, dedicated to the neutralization of the muscles that affect the throat
and the breathing process. It is generally beneficial to the practitioner because
it encourages total relaxation in the body and mind while beginning
204
a. Inhalation
b. Exhalation
205
She has no choice but to breathe in her back! A pregnant woman who has
the nearly impossible task of pulling the belly in while inhaling or singing
can get into a state of severe conflict with her voice and diaphragm if she
was taught to pull in while exhaling. It is better to do what comes naturally
and breathe into the back with the belly hanging out. Let us all learn from
Mother Nature! If it were necessary to pull in the belly while singing, a pregnant woman couldnt sing!!
Singers who are not pregnant should practice pulling the abdomen in
while inhaling in order to eliminate the possibility of tension in the abdomen.
While it may feel like tension is being created by pulling the abdomen in, an
examination using the shake the lower belly test will reveal, that although the
abdomen is pulled in while breathing, there is no tension (flexing or hardness)
in the muscles of the abdominal wall. This is crucial to good singing. Singers
who activate abdominal muscles while breathing or singing must compensate
by creating an opposite and equal force somewhere else in the body, usually
in the throat. Everything we do is done for the purpose of total relaxation of
the throat. This exercise is conducive to a very free attitude concerning the
quality of the sound and helps the singer to relax.
Posture #2: The Primitive (Campfire) Squat
From a normal standing position, squat down all the way, with the heels on
the floor. Most adults cannot squat down and keep their heels on the floor the
first time they try. However, it can be done, believe it or not! In some cases,
it is as difficult as learning to ride a bicycle or learning to ski, because it is all
about balancing and centering. Every child we see playing in the sand on the
beach squats this way heels down. It will require a lot of practice in some
instances, but it is possible to learn to squat correctly. All primitive people
squat this way around their campfires. It is the natural way to squat, and
must be relearned by most modern adults. Moreover, since it is essential for
proper centering and energy flow, it should be learned.
The mechanics of squatting are simple. From a normal standing position
with the arms relaxed and hanging down and the feet apart at shoulder width,
bend the knees deeply and completely. It will be necessary to shift the weight
forward with the arms well in front of the body as the body goes down. Ideally,
the squatter will be able to rock back and forth without a loss of balance. In
attempting this, most people lose their balance and fall backwards. While a
little embarrassing, this is harmless and is a natural part of the learning and
adjusting process, just as falling off the bicycle is part of finding your balance
and coordination. Dont give up! Keep trying until you are successful!
206
207
The main thing to remember with the tree is that we are not floating away
into space. Gravity is all we need to hold us down on the earth. Therefore, it
makes sense that gravity can hold the breath, viscera, and diaphragm down if
we can relax and allow it to happen. This is the secret of those obese singers
who seem to sing so beautifully without the problems and tendencies that
seem to plague most singers. We know that obese singers who lose a lot of
weight invariably develop vocal problems. Some are very famous, magnificent singers who lost control of their voices after losing enormous amounts
of weight, sometimes over 100 lbs. Having been obese since childhood and
having relied on the weight to keep the breath dropped down in the lower
body, when the loss of the extreme downward pull was no longer there, the
singers developed huge wobbles and the voices became hard and strident.
The breath is no longer held down deep in the body by the weight carried in
the abdomen.
This loss of control can be corrected after a severe diet by teaching the singer
how to get the breath down again. By exercising, through Yoga posturing and
consciously thinking deep, the concept of where to place the breath in the
body can be relearned. In this posture, the feeling of heaviness and weight are
all-important. The voice itself seems to drop down into the body, as if each
tone weighs several pounds and is sitting right in the center of the floor of
the pelvis. The sensation of the voice sitting securely down in the lower body
is essential to having secure and easy high notes. The feeling of the body being heavy helps especially with the high soft notes. It is obviously something
to be desired for any singer! This is one of the most important postures for
developing the upper register of any voice.
Ten-count Breathing
This exercise is the same for both men and women. Stand or sit erect (in a
straight-back chair if sitting); your spine in proper alignmentchest slightly
raised; arms slightly behind the body, allowing the air box to be fully open
and expanded.
Exhale, releasing all of your breath, allowing the abdomen to fall out as
you exhale.
Inhale to a count of 10 seconds (start with 5 if necessary and build up to a
10-count). Inhale through the nose silently, slowly, as if smelling a fragrant
flower for 10 seconds; as you inhale, simultaneously draw in the lower abdomen slowly with the inhalation.
Hold the breath for 10 seconds and then, exhale slowly and evenly for 10
seconds, relaxing the abdomen outward as the breath is released.
This exercise can also be done while walking or standing still.
208
209
A final series of images that I would like to leave with readers is from
Giovanni Battista Lamperti, who taught the Old Italian Bel Canto method
of singing:
The breath is the ocean-the voice is the boat that floats on the ocean!
Michael Trimble won both the Metropolitan Opera Auditions and the American Opera
auditions in 1963 and made his debut in Milan at the Teatro Nuovo as Cavaradossi
in Puccinis Tosca. He has sung over 60 leading roles in the Italian, French and
German repertoire throughout Europe, Canada and the United States, performing
with such celebrated conductors as Karl Bohm, Christoph von Dohnnyi, Charles
Mackerras, Nello Santi, Ferdinand Leitner, Wolfgang Sawallisch and Karl Richter.
Mr. Trimble served as Chair of Vocal and Choral studies at the Cleveland Institute
of Music, as Professor of Voice at the University of Texas in Austin, as Guest Professor
at the University of Miami, and on the voice faculty of the Aspen Festival for over 25
years. In 1992 he established the Trimble Vocal Institute and, despite his attempts
at retirement, still maintains an active voice studio and vocal consultation service in
Bainbridge Island, Washington, where he and his wife, Cantor Pamela Kordan Trimble,
relocated in 2001. At the Journals request, Michael Trimble graciously excerpted this
article from his forthcoming book, The Encyclopedia of Great Singing: A Complete
In-Depth Guide to Great Technical Singing, Vol. I plus DVD; scheduled for
publication in September 2011.
19
G.B. Lamperti. Vocal Wisdom (New York: Taplinger), 1957: 131-132, 144.
210
Contrafaction
By Joshua R. Jacobson
Four hundred years ago Samuel Archivolti, a rabbi in Padua, Italy, wrote about
the synagogue music of his day:
There are two categories of song. The first category is a melody which is
composed to fit the words in consideration of their ideas. For by melodic
changes we are able to distinguish between pause and continuation, a
fast tempo and a slow one, between joy and sadness, astonishment and
fear, and so forth. And this is the most excellent type of melody in music,
for not only does it consider the ears pleasure, but it also strives to give
spirit and soul to the words that are sung. This type of song was used by
the Levites [in the Beit hamikdash], for it is the only way they could have
arranged their music, and it is the proper type to be written for songs in
our sacred language.
The second type [of song] is the vulgar sort of tune in which the words
[must] fit [the music], and its only concern is for the ears pleasure. So a
single popular melody may be applied to many songs whose subjects are
as distant from one another as the West is from the East, so long as they
are all written in the same meter and rhyme scheme.1
One doesnt have to read between the lines to understand that Archivolti
prefers the first category to the second. In fact, Archivoltis classification is
nearly identical to that of Italian secular vocal music from the same period.
Madrigal composers in Italy were divided into two camps: those who composed in the first style and those who composed in the more modern second style.2 In 1607 Giulio Cesare Monteverdi wrote in defense of his famous
composer brother, Claudio Monteverdi, The first style is the one that considers the music [or the harmony] the master3 of the words The second
style makes the words the master of the music.4 The author is saying that
composers of the first style accommodated the lyrics to the music, whereas
1
Samuel Archivolti (1515-1611), Arugat ha-bosem (Venice, 1602), in Hebrew
Writings Concerning Music in manuscripts and Printed Books from Geonic Times up
to 1800, ed. Israel Adler, (Munich: G. Henle Verlag), 1975: 100. Translations in this
article are by the present author.
2
In Italian, prima prattica and seconda prattica.
3
Literally mistress, but given the other connotations of the word mistress,
and given the relative paucity of gendered nouns in English, compared to Italian, I
think master is a better translation.
4
Oliver Strunk, Source Readings in Music History: The Baroque Era (New
York: W. W. Norton, 1965), 48-49.
211
composers of the second style made the music fit the lyrics. The second style
gave birth to the recitative, in which the accompaniment took a back seat
to the free declamation of the words in their natural rhythms.
In the context of the synagogue, Archivoltis first category refers to the
cantillation of the Torah, haftarot and megillot, as well as traditional nusah
davening. As is the case with operatic recitative, a flexible melody fits the
flexible rhythm of the text, which is primary. Music makes the text more
meaningful.
Archivoltis second category seems to refer to metered tunes that are sung
in unison by the congregation. The focus is on the pleasure of singing rather
than on the meaning or mood of the text. Whether in the seventeenth or
the twenty-first century, congregants love to sing tunes. I am using tunes
in the sense of songs that have a strong rhythmic pulse, a limited range, a
strong tonal (or modal) center, predominantly stepwise motion and syllabic
text allocation (i.e. generally no more than one or two pitches per syllable).
Tunes must also be simple and easy to learn, characterized by repetition and
recurrence of melodic and textual segments. Tunes expanded into extended
songs will be strophic in form, and will usually have a refrain (in which lyrics
and music recur after each verse). Fondness for this kind of singing seems to
be universal. In fact, some anthropologists have speculated that music may
have originated as a means of achieving tribal unitybringing people together
and binding them through communal singing.5
The texts that are best suited for such treatment will themselves have regular meter and strophic form. In other words, each line has the same number
of syllables in a consistent alternation of weak and strong accents, and each
verse has the same number of lines.6 Among the liturgical hymns that best
fit this description are Lkha dodi, Adon olam, Eil adon, and Yigdal. But even
texts such as V-Shamru, with its irregular meter and non-strophic structure, have been set to tunes. And in many cases the text has been altered to
suit the tune: the wrong syllable is forced to receive metric stress, words are
repeated to accommodate the length of the musical phrase, the text is broken
in nonsensical phrasing, and one line of text will recur artificially in order to
create a refrain. This is exactly what Archivolti was describingthe vulgar
sort of tune in which the words [must] fit [the music].
5
Oliver Sachs, Musicophilia (New York: Knopf, 2007), 244.
6
Most English poems are qualitative in meterhaving a pattern of alternating
stressed and unstressed syllables. The meter of classical Hebrew poetry is generally
quantitativehaving a pattern of alternating long and short syllables.
212
One can further differentiate synagogue tunes into two categories: (1)
melodies that have been composed specifically for a liturgical text, and (2)
pre-existing melodies that have been adapted for use with various prayers.
For the most part congregants dont know and dont care who composed
the tunes they sing. Some tunes, such as Avinu malkeinu (Example 1.), are
traditional, that is, they are relatively old, and no one knows who composed
them.
Example 1.
1
Avinu malkeinu (excerpt)
Trad.
A - vi - nu Mal - ke
nu
ho - nei - nu va - a - nei - nu
vi - nu - mal - kei - nu
ho - nei - nu va - a - nei - nu ki ein ba - nu ma - a - sim.
A-
Mi
mi
ka - mo - kha
ne - dar ba - ko
213
desh
Freed
Example 4.
Ein keiloheinu (excerpt)
Freudenthal
Example 5.
Vhayah Adonai (excerpt)
V - ha
yom
- yah
ha - hu,
ba - yom
L dor va - dor
yih - yeh
A - do - nai
e -
rets,
ba -
had,
Eits
Zim
Example 8.
Oseh shalom (excerpt)
hu
Example 9.
Eits hayyim hi (excerpt)
Klepper
l - o - lam
l dor - va - dor
ta - sim
Example 7.
Ldor va-dor (excerpt)
ha - hu
kol ha - a
l - me - lekh al
Example 6.
Shalom rav (excerpt)
A - do - nai
Goldfarb
Hirsch
nu
Portnoy
hay
yim
hi
la
ma
ha
zi
kim
bah,
to
m - khe
ha
214
shar.
la - a - sot
V - sham ru
Example 10.
VShamru (excerpt)
v - nei
et
Yis- ra - eil
ha -
sha - bat
et
l - do - ro - tam b - rit
Example 11.
Mkhakeil hayyim (excerpt)
M - khal - keil hay
-yim b - he - sed,
ha -
Rothblum
shab
bat,
o - lam.
m hay
- yei mei-tim b - ra-ha-mim ra- bim,
Wohlberg
Many of our popular melodies were originally composed for choral performance. The Sephardic Mizmor l-david (Example 12.) was composed
by Michele Bolaffi (1768-1842) in Livorno, Italy in 1826. Salomon Sulzer
(1804-1890), the great Viennese hazzan, composed Ki mi-tsiyon (Example13.)
for his renowned choir at the Seitenstettengasse synagogue.8 And Louis
Lewandowksi (1821-1894), who served as chief choirmaster of Berlin in the
second half of the nineteenth century, created Tsaddik ka-tamar yifrah (Example 14.). The traditional Adon olam (Example 15.) was composed by
the Russian hazzan, Eliezer Gerowitsch (1844-1914) around the same time.9
Gershon Ephros (1890-1978) wrote the melody often heard for the Torah
service, L-Kkha Adonai ha-gdulah (Example16.). Due to their popularity,
these choral compositions were spontaneously adopted by their congregations, transformed into monophonic tunes (based on the soprano part), and
then passed through oral tradition to synagogues around the world.
8
Congregations apparently enjoyed singing Sulzers Ki Mi-tsiyon melody so
much that they applied it to the subsequent texts of the Torah service, Barukh shenatan torah and Shema yisraeil.
9
L. Gerowitsch, Schirej Simroh: Erster Theil (n.d., n.p.). Adon Olom (p. 28) is
marked A.W. (Alte Weise), suggesting that the tune may have already been traditional
in Gerowitschs time. Gerowitschs setting is not strophic; the familiar tune is found
only for the first verse.
215
Miz - mor
nei
ei
Ki
lim
tsei
tei - tsei
u - d - var
A do - nai
dik
ka
rez
o - lam
l-eit na - a - sah
bal - va
A - don
ta
mar
oz.
ki
mi -ru - sha - la
non, bal -
yif
va
Example 14.
Tsaddik ka-tamar (excerpt)
Tsad
to - rah,
b -
va
to - rah,
ka - vod
Example 13.
Ki mi-tsiyon (excerpt)
Bolaffi
la - do - nai
la - do - nai
Ha - vu
Da - vid
ha - vu
Example 12.
Mizmor ldavid (excerpt)
non
rah,
yis
b - hef
- tso kol,
a - sher ma - lakh
tei -
yim.
Lewandowski
k -
geh,
Example 15.
Adon olam (excerpt)
Sulzer
Gerowitsch
a - zai
216
me - lekh
y - tsir
niv - ra.
sh - mo
nik - ra.
Example 16.
Lkha Adonai (excerpt)
L - kha,
A - do - nai,
ret
v - ha
ha - g - du
nei
tsah
v - ha
-
lah v - ha - g - vu
Ephros
rah v - ha - tif -
hod.
Now, these are all cases where someone set out to create a melody to fit
a specific text. Presumably, if the composer knows and cares about Hebrew
vocabulary and grammar, the melody will match the mood and the meter
of the words.
But frequently someone is inspired to adapt a tune from one context and
apply it to another. Musicologists have a term for this process of retrofitting
contrafaction. Some listeners, unaware of the original source, will associate
the tune only with its new context. For example, in 1814 Francis Scott Key
wrote the lyrics to The Star Spangled Banner, intending it to be sung to the
tune of The Anacreontic Song, a popular British drinking song written by
John Stafford Smith. And in 1882, Samuel Cohen, a resident of Rishon Letsiyon, suggested that Naftali Herz Imbers poem, Hatikvah (or Tikvateinu)
be sung to the tune of Carul cu boi, a farmers song he remembered from
his native Moldavia.11
10 Louis Lewandowski, Kol Rinnah UTfillah (Berlin, 1871), in Geoffrey Goldberg,
Neglected Sources for the Historical Study of Synagogue Music: the Prefaces to Louis
Lewandowskis Kol Rinnah UTfillah and Todah WSimrah Annotated Translations
Musica Judaica XI (1989-1990): 41.
11 When congregations sing va-havieinu l-tsiyon irkha to the tune of Hatikvah, they are actually singing it to the tune of Carul cu boi, creating a double
contrafaction.
217
Miz
mor
lim,
ha
da
vu
lA -
vid.
do
Ha - vu
nai
lA - do - nai
ka
vod
b - nei
ei -
va - oz.
12 Archivolti, 100.
13 Ben Zion Solomon, ed., Shlomo Shabbos: The Shlomo Carlebach Shabbos
Songbook (Meor Modim: Kehilat Jacob Publications, 1993), 15.
14 Solomon, 9.
218
Example 18.
Ki va moeid (excerpt)
Carlebach
ta - kum t - ra
heim
tsi - yon
ki eit l -
he - n nah
ki
va
Ki
10
va
mo -
eid,
va - mo -
eid,
Example 19.
Shiru ladonai (excerpt)
Shi - ru
ki
a - tah
mo - eid,
shir
ha
- dash, shi-ru lA- do - nai kol ha - a - rets.
lA- do - nai
Carlebach
sha
vo
do
r - tav
sho -
mor
be - sa - mim
ma
lim
zeh
lei
nei - tsei
le
vo - nah
na
el
o - lam
Example 21.
Erev shel shoshanim (excerpt)
after Hadar
m -
la - zeh
Yosef Hadar
ha - bus - tan.
15 Shemers song itself is said to have been based on a Basque lullaby, Pello
Joxepe composed by Juan Francisco Petrarena (1835-1869).
219
Example 22.
Kdushah(excerpt)
V - ei
nei - nu
tir
e - nah
mal - khu - te
kha
Example 23.
Shalom aleikhem (excerpt)
Israel Goldfarb
after Goldfarb
V - ei - nei - nu
var
mal - a - khei el
tir
ha - a -
mur
e - nah
mal - khu
b - shi - rei
te -
ze
yon.
after Shemer
kha,
ka - da -
kha.
E - li
Tsi - yon
L - kha
do - di
v a - re
ha
k - mo
i - shah
Example 26.
Lkha dodi (excerpt)
lik - rat
kal - lah,
220
v tsi - re
ha
n - kab - b - lah.
Trad.
Ma - oz
tsur
y - shu - a - ti
Mi
Example 27.
(excerpt)
Maoz tsur
kha -
l - kha
na -
eh
l - sha - bei ah.
Example 28.
Mi khamokha (excerpt)
mo
kha
ba - ei - lim
Trad.
Trad.
A - do - nai
* * * * *
221
But now, in this generation they know not, they do not understand,
they walk in darkness, they abandon the ancient melodies and toss them
behind their backs, they laugh and make fun of them saying, thats old
stuff, and we get no pleasure from them, and they fabricate new melodies
to take their place, either [melodies] of their own, or they borrow them
222
from their theaters and bring them into Gods Temple, and they sound
like the melodies that go with mixed dancing. And there are even some
of them who learn melodies from the uncircumcised and sing them in
our synagogues. Have you ever heard of such evil? Could God desire this
kind of song and music?23
223
mouths of liars and the singing of sensual songs will be blocked, and they will
no longer think about love songs when they see [my] songs.26 His collection,
Zmirot yisrael was published in 1587 in Safed and subsequently reprinted
in an expanded edition in Venice in 1599. In the introduction, Najjara wrote
that his piyyutim are all based on the characteristics of Arab melodies and
other songs.27 Of the 346 songs in this collection, 150 are based on Turkish
songs, 60 on Arab songs, 30 on Spanish (Sephardic) songs, and a few others on Greek songs. Furthermore, Najara created a superscription for each
piyyut, which included the word lahan (to the tune of ) and then the title
or incipit of a well-known non-Jewish popular song. For example, lahan
Istanbuldan ektim Turkish.
But Najara was not clumsily superimposing a foreign melody on an inhospitable text. Najara was creating new lyrics, modeled after the very structure
of the song he was imitating, thus ensuring a perfect fit of music to lyrics. In
some cases he borrowed and transformed the content of the original song.
The Ladino song Arvolera, in which a forlorn wife is faithfully awaiting the
return of her missing husband Amadi, becomes a piyyut in which the Jewish people faithfully await their redeemer. In other cases Najara consciously
created a phonological link from the parody to the original. His piyyut Anna
Eil, shomrah nafshi is based on an Arab song, Ana al-samra wa-sammuni
sumayra. Najaras songs were deliberately demotic, rejecting the learned
esoteric style of earlier payytanim such as Eleazar ben Kallir. His songs were
not limited to liturgical use, but could be sung on many occasions. Their
content was often nationalistic, emphasizing the intimate relation between
the Jewish people and their God, often using metaphors of the love of a man
for a woman. The refreshing poetic style quickly caught on among the people
of Safed and were transmitted far and wide by the many seekers who made
pilgrimages to this center of spirituality. In all, Najara composed some 800
paraliturgical songs, many of which are still popular in the Sephardic world.
The only song of his that is widely recognized among Ashkenazim today is
the Shabbat table song, Yah ribbon alam.28
While Najaras songs enjoyed tremendous popularity, even among such
prominent rabbis as Isaac Luria, not everyone endorsed his methods. Rabbi
Menahem di Lonzano (1572-1619) denigrated Najaras work. Was it because
26 Abraham Z. Idelsohn, Yisrael najara v-shirato, Hashiloah 37 (Nisan-Elul,
1920), 25-36 and 122-135.
27 Hanokh Avenari, Ha-shir ha-nokhri k-makor hashraah l-yisrael najara,
in The Fourth World Congress of Jewish Studies (Jerusalem: The Hebrew University,
1965), 283.
28 Idelsohn, Yisrael najara vshirato, 25-36 and 122-135.
224
Lonzanos own piyyutim never achieved the same level of popularity as those
of his rival?
I have noticed that a few scholars are complaining [and saying] evil [things]
about the composers of songs praising God using non-Jewish melodies.
But they are wrong; there is no [problem] in this. But what are truly
despicable are some [sacred] songs that start with [Hebrew] words that
resemble the words of the non-Jewish [song] [Najjara] thinks he did
something great, but he has no idea that a song like this is an abomination,
it is not acceptable. Because the person who sings it will be thinking about
the [original] lyrics about an adulterer and an adulteress; his emotions
and thoughts will be with them. Thats what happens when people sing
shem nora [Gods mighty name] instead of seora, etc.29
A melody is a holy spark. When you play love songs the spark is hidden
in its shell. Therefore in every new melody that the gentiles compose
you must establish words from the scribes, words of holiness, in order to
extract the spark from the other side [i.e. Satan] to the side of holiness.
And this is an obligation no less than preventing sinners from sinning,
causing many people to turn from sin, to extract that which is precious
from that which is evil, to choose the sparks of holiness.31
And I testify by heaven and earth that when I was in Smyrna, the great
city of scholars and mystics, I saw some of the outstanding religious
authorities who were also great creators of the science of music, headed
by the wonderful Rabbi Abraham Ha-Kohein Ariash of blessed memory,
who secretly used to go (behind the screen) of the Christian church on
their holy days to learn the special melodies from them and to adapt them
to the High Holiday prayers which require great humility. And from those
same melodies they would arrange the most remarkable blessings and
holy prayers, and it is clear from this that the tune is not of the essence,
but the sacred words.32
225
[Borrowing melodies and providing them with new, sacred Hebrew texts
is done for a] good reason, a reason of fundamental importance, and it
is correct that it is said about it that it is good. This is so because the
melody is a holy spark. Because when one plays sensual love songs, the
spark is submerged in the klippot [waste coverings]. It is for this reason
that it is necessary to establish a foundation of holy wordsdrawn from
the mouths of scholars and from the mouths of booksfor any tune with
a non-Jewish source, in order to lead the spark from the realm of evil to
the realm of holiness. This is an obligation in the same way that it is an
obligation to draw sinners to good, to turn away from iniquity, and to bring
out the precious from the vile. It is an obligation to make clear the holy
sparks. So it is with holy songs. The holy sparks bring light to the just.33
In 1976 Rabbi Ovadyah Yosef (former Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Israel) wrote,
I have been asked if it is permissible for the cantor to graft the melody of a
secular love song on to the blessings or other prayers or whether a distinction must be made between the holy and the profane. His response was that
removing the melody from its original context is likened to the performance
of a good deed: it is a mitzvah to do so, and implies sanctification of Gods
name in that something has been transferred from the realm of the profane
to the realm of the sacred.34
But Yosef then qualifies his hekhsher, indicating that the transformation
will be successful only if the cantor chooses the songs out of the purest
motives, to praise and sing to the Lord, blessed be He, and only if the adaptation is sensitive to the prosody of the Jewish text. He condemns the cantors
who contort the meaning of a verse, put the accent on the ultimate syllable,
where it should be on the penultimate, and vice versa. These are boorish inversions, the way fools sing; they transform the words of the living God and
subordinate the prayers and blessings to a secular tune.35
Among the Ashkenazim, it is primarily HaBaD,36 the Lubavitch Hasidim,
who allow, even embrace, non-Jewish melodies into the liturgy, provided they
are sung with spiritual enthusiasm. These Hasidim believe in the importance
of the mitzvah of kiruv: bringing Jews closer to Judaism, closer to God. They
Press, 1992), 82.
33 David Matouk Betesh, ed., Shir ushvahah hallel v-zimrah (New York: Magen
David),
/ (accessed June 20, 2008).
34 Shiloah, Jewish Musical Traditions, 82-83.
35 Shiloah, Jewish Musical Traditions, 84.
36 Acronym for Hokhmah (wisdom), Binah (understanding), Deiah (knowledge).
226
believe that through this act they are redeeming a soul. They also believe
that you can redeem a song; that you can take a secular song, remove it from
its original profane context, outfit it with sacred words or even just with
vocables such as ai di di di dai, and not only do you have a sacred song, you
have performed a mitzvah: you have converted something from profanity to
the service of God.
But perhaps that is an oversimplification. To achieve dveikut [adhering to
God], one must have the proper state of mind. The transformation of a secular tune into a sacred niggun, the process of musical tikkun, is a four-stage
process, as described by Ellen Koskoff.37 First an appropriate person must be
able to recognize the potential in the song, to perceive the holy spark dormant
in the music. Second, the redeemer must spend time with the song, creating
a sense of ownership. Third, the secular lyrics must be discarded. Finally, the
remodeled song will be performed by the devout with proper intention and
in the appropriate style.
The Hasidim believe that once a song has been redeemed, it is no longer
available to its original owner. The story is told that Shneur Zalman of Lyadi
(1745-1813), the first HaBaD rebbe, one day heard an organ grinder sing a
beautiful song. The rebbe tossed some coins to the street musician so that
he would sing the song over and over. Eventually the rebbe was able to sing
the song himself, to take ownership of the song (stage two above). From
that time on, according to the legend, the organ grinder lost his ability to
remember that song.38
Another story: In 1812 the rebbe heard Napoleons March played by the
French army as they crossed the Russian border. He understood it was time
to escape before the arrival of the enemy forces. As a sign of gratitude to God
for his deliverance, the rebbe designated Napoleons March to be sung as
a wordless niggun each year at the Neilah service, symbolic of the victory of
the Jewish people over Satan.39 Koskoff writes that this tune also signals the
ultimate defeat of Napoleons power through the mystical transformation of
his armys music and its redemption as a niggun.40
The rebbes great-great-grandson, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson
(1902-1994), is credited with another unusual contrafaction.
37 Ellen Koskoff, Music in Lubovitcher Life (Chicago: University of Chicago
Press), 2001: 77-78.
38 Ibid., 75.
39 Macy Nulman. Concepts of Jewish Music and Prayer (New York: Cantorial
Council of America), 1985: 90.
40 Koskoff, 99.
227
[In 1974] a large group of Jews from France who were looking into
their roots came to Crown Heights (Brooklyn, New York) to acquaint
themselves with the Lubavitcher movement. At the hakofos [the dancing
on Simhat Torah], they were unable to join in with the singing, being
unfamiliar with the melodies of the niggunim. Suddenly the Lubavitcher
Rebbe, shlita, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, began to sing a tune
they knew well, that of the French national anthem (La Marseillaise),
accompanying it with the words of a prayer, Ho-aderes vho-emunoh [Power
and Trustworthiness]. The singing began softly, as most of the Hasidic
multitude were unacquainted with the song. But the momentum built
up and before long, French guests and bearded Hasidim were singing the
rousing march in unison. As the Rebbe kept them going, over and over,
the newcomers felt that all these bearded people were not strangers at
all, but brothers, with one soul and one God binding them all together.
Feelings of love and yearning toward God were welling up and gripping
them with their intensity.41
* * * *
Is contrafaction a vulgarity or a mitzvah, a distraction from the words of
prayer or an effective shortcut to successful congregational singing? There
are rabbinic sources to support each of these views. But perhaps the keys to
any successful congregational singing can be found in two of the examples
we examined. Israel Najara took great care to fit the structure of the lyrics to
the tune. The HaBaD Hasidim adopt a tune only if it has a holy spark, only
when its original identity has been forgotten, only if it can be sung with the
proper intention, and only after it has been transformed into a vehicle for
spiritual transcendence.
Joshua R. Jacobson is Professor of Music and Director of Choral Activities at
Northeastern University and Visiting Professor of Jewish Music at Hebrew College. He
is also founder and artistic director of the Zamir Chorale of Boston. Over one hundred
of his choral arrangements, editions and compositions have been published, and are
frequently performed by choirs around the world. In 2004 the Cantors Assembly
presented Prof. Jacobson with its prestigious Kavod Award. His book, Chanting the
Hebrew Bible: The Art of Cantillation, published by the Jewish Publication Society
in 2002, was a finalist for the National Jewish Book Award. Dr. Jacobson holds degrees
in Music from Harvard College, the New England Conservatory, and the University
of Cincinnati.
41 Gitty Stolik, Musical Rhapsodies, Womens Youth Organization Book of the
29th Annual Convention (May 24-28, 1984), in Mordechai Staiman, Niggun: Stories
behind the Chasidic Songs that Inspire Jews (Northvale, New Jersey: Jason Aronson,
1994), 154. That melody is still sung in many HaBaD shuls. I heard it myself in the
HaBaD House in West Palm Beach, Florida, on Shabbat, March 11, 2006.
228
229
Lastly, she became a very dear friend and mentor over the course of my
studies with her that culminated in my 1979 Masters thesis, The Middle
Eastern Roots of East European Hazzanut. Her several books and numerous
encyclopedia and scholarly journal articles as well as her documentary films
continue to reinforce the professional skill that I and all of my colleagues, her
former students, bring to our sacred calling.
May her memory be a blessing.
Edward W. Berman
West Orange, NJ
230
The Rabbi of Zambrow, in his 90s during the 1930s, was a Litvak (Lithuanian), but no flaming opponent of Hasidism. In fact he never distinguished
between Hasidim or Mitnagdim, but gathered to him all who feared and
adhered to Gods word. He demonstrated this love for all Israel by singing
and dancing the Habad Rabbis Niggun (see p. 236) with Yeshiva bakhurim
on every yom tov.
Helen Winkler
Toronto
231
Moderato
REFRAIN: Hoy
tsom - oh
l-kho
naf -
shi;
b-so - ri.
ho - ro,
ker dir
yet - ser
gey dir vay - ter
vi - der;
Bav - lim - lekh;
mis - nagdim - lekh, Yeru - shal - mim - lekh,
mar - ku tshtsho - ti
yar - mor - ku;)
du - ren
rub - yash na
Akh! du,
VERSE 1:
VERSE 2: Khasidim - lekh,
(UKRANIAN: Ekh - ta
7
gey
dir
VERSE 1:
ve - ln
dir
VERSE 2:
(UKRANIAN: nyit kop - lyayesh
tsu
day - ne
lib nit
fol - gn,
veln
nyi - pro - da - yesh, shol-ko
ste
dir
rab
nit
- yish
bri he smar -
der.
rn.
ka.)
I read with interest this article by Joseph Levine in the Fall 2009 Journal, and
wish to clarify several matters.
1. Hazzan Levine seems to indicate that the earlier publication of Glantzs
arranged recitatives by Bloch Publishing Company in the late 1940s,
relative to the publication of Pinchiks arranged recitatives by the Cantors
Assembly some fifteen years later, relates to a lesser degree of accessibility
on the part of Pinchiks approach. He cites Glantzs Shema Yisroel and
Pinchiks Rozo Dshabbos as cases in point. The three pieces by Glantz that
Bloch published were not necessarily issued because of public demand.
Bloch generally published with the financial support of the composer in
question; funds were raised even to facilitate the publication of Cantor
Gershon Ephros six-volume Cantorial Anthology (1940-1953). Hence
it is probable that the publication of Glantzs Shema Yisroel, Uvnucho
Yomar and Holoch Vkoroso was made possible by a subventionif not
by Glantz himselfthan most certainly by Sarah Wachs, who served
selflessly as his manager for many years.
232
Jack, I thank you for your thoughtful review of my book and CDs. Undoubtedly you read the book and considered your review deeply. and for that Im
grateful to you. I do think it would have been a better, more balanced review
233
had you left your own biases at the front door and really reviewed all I had
to say.
You suggest that my background and environment is Classical Reform
(which doesnt even exist anymore), but a look at my bio would have told you
that I was brought up Orthodox, went to a yeshiva, and have composed for
Conservative synagogues as well. I even can read Hebrew!
I never implied that all art is midrash. I did suggest that the best art can
function as midrash and most often does.
I dont understand how you can laud one aspect of the overtone system
and yet call the evolution of western music silly when it follows the direct
path of overtones from the fundamental to its higher more dissonant partials.
Believe me, microtonal music is one of the possibilities for the future and in
synthesis it is alive and well today.
Tell your singers whom you teach not to be concerned about textual matters
like diction and meaning as well as musical issues and just sing the gestalt.
Art is in the details... you know that... and so is active listening. Not so intellectual ... just honest instruction.
You accuse me of focusing only on music performed in the synagogue,
but what about my chapter on Life Cycle music? Did it not fit into your
agenda?
This comes down to your less-than-subtle personal bias of active participation. When a rabbi has the congregation talk along with his drash, Ill buy
into your blanket thesis of dynamic engagement. Until then Ill continue
advocating moments of thoughtful listening by the congregation (which, as
you know, can be just as actively engaged) initiated by skilled hazzanim and
not merely by expedient song leaders.
I also spent a great deal of time talking about the balanced bimahand balance in all repertoire. Did you miss these words? or did they also not fit into
your own bias? I have nothing against Klezmer but refuse to extol it as the
art form that you seemingly adore. As a matter of fact, when I was growing
up, second rate musicians, who only played wedding and Bar Mitzvahs, were
known as Klezmorim. I guess this echelon is more than enough for you... it is
neither for me nor for many Jews who have been turned away from Judaism
by its present musical banality.
Finally, I have nothing against mindful ecstasy, but that does call for some
intellectuality (or at least a functioning mind), which you repeatedly seem
234
reticent to acknowledge or support. I dont think you can have it both ways,
unless unconsidered ecstasy is enough for you, too.
The bottom line for me is that unless cantors begin to act like hazzanim
again, all this active participation will lead to song leaders replacing trained
synagogue musicians. Could that replacement be your bottom line thesis?
Michael Isaacson
Encino, CA
235
236
the-art in the 1960s, but was old-fashioned by the 1980s when this recording
was made; but even in the 1990s when its obsolescence meant you could not
get spare parts, it was still so admired that visitors at a wedding would come
up to the organist (the present writer) almost as much in awe of the organ as
of the cantor.
CD2 is mainly music by Israeli composers, as well as other material with
Hebrew texts. There are beautiful songs by Ben Chaim (Ruah, ruah, and
Ha-geshem) as well as the colorful Boi na roati of Esther Brik, an evocation
of an idyllic Palestinian pastoral scene that surely could not be
performed today without embarrassment. There is also Mirons charming Ufi
ruah and some Israeli Song Festival-type numbers. An unexpected track is a
niggun recorded in 1989. Despite the poorly-miked choir in the background,
Danto gives a soulful performance. (This niggun, arranged by the present reviewer
who learnt it from an elderly member of his congregation, is published by
Neil A. Kjos Music Company, as Niggun/Hasidic Melody, Catalog #8779).
There are 17 tracks altogether on this disc, but the titles just mentioned
will give you a sense of the whole disc.
CD3 is devoted to Yiddish songs, ranging from Goldfaden operettas to songs
composed in the shadow of the Holocaust, such as the almost unbearably
moving Unter di poylishe grininke boymelekh, here poignantly paired with
its pre-Holocaust model Unter di grininke boymelekh (regrettably not listed
in the liner notes). These 21 selections are noteworthy for Dantos limpid
Yiddish enunciation, his sense of humor, his bel canto control of dynamics
at the service of the text, lovingly caressing the mommeh loshn (in truth, his
mother tongue.) These are all expressive performances informed by his own
life experiences, but especially noteworthy are Gebirtigs Dray tekhterlekh
and Secundas setting of Leivicks starkly dramatic poem Eybik.
CD4 contains 19 tracks of arias, lieder and Neapolitan favorites. Included
are four selections from a recital given in 1954, which demonstrate that right
from the start of his career Danto has been a master of the voix mixte, a vital
component of bel canto that enables the lowest register to flow seamlessly
into the highestand vice versa. This is particularly well shown in the wide
compass of Unaura amorosa from Cosi fan tutte. We forget today that Mozart
in the 1950s was a minority taste waiting to be rediscovered, as Handel still
was in the 1960s (see below). In fact, Cosi had only had its U.S. premiere 30
years before this recording was madethere were undoubtedly listeners in
Dantos audiences who had never even heard of this opera! Louis Danto has
often remarked on how even celebrated singers at that time would shmir
(grease) Mozarts vocal runs instead of singing each note because they simply
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did not have the technique to tackle bel canto repertoire. This is of course not
a fault in this CD, although there are no conspicuous runs to show off in this
aria, nor in the other Mozart selection, Dalla sua pace from Don Giovanni
(which was actually written for a singer of limited ability at the Vienna production of 1788). Dantos very selection of this repertoire in the 1950s indicates
an exceptional musical talent at work and a commitment to bel canto from
the very start of his career, developing into a life-long mission.
Also noteworthy is Handels Non lo diro col labbro from Tolomeo (once
known to English audiences as Did You Not See My Lady)a brave choice for
a concert in 1965, before the Handel revolution of the 1970s. Although this
track is poorly recorded, encumbered with a ponderous accompaniment,
yet we can discern here also at this stage in Dantos career the control of a
bel canto expert, especially in the sensational messa di voce leading into the
da capo (which sadly lacks embellishment). By the way, the liner notes give
this aria its alternative English title: Silent Worship (Alexander, the character,
is singing I shall not say it [my passion] with my lipsinstead he will rely
on his fervent gaze to indicate his feelings.) It would be very unfortunate if
anyone listening to this track thought it was Handels setting of part of the
Amidah.
Although these early operatic recordings lack much sense of drama, there
is certainly enough vocal technique for todays students to learn from, not to
mention a mastery of Italian that we do not generally associate with hazzanim.
Danto also sings in German, French, English and Russian, the latter of course
being a specialty.
My personal highlights of these CDs include: the Baroque-era cantata
Shokhen brum eil elyon by Lidarti, with its breathtakingly beautiful oboe
obbligato performed by a no-name soloist on a recording made for Israel
Radio; the Ravel-like shimmering music of Paul Ben-Haim; and the chamberensemble versions of Yiddish songs, of which we may particularly mention
the elegiac arrangement by the late Srul Glick of Gebirtigs Moyshele mayn
fraynt (with Rivka Golani, viola).
Perhaps the most awe-inspiring track of all is Secundas Dos yiddishe lid:
a scratchy recording, with a pianist playing wrong notes, and in the background the audience scraping their chairs. But waitthis was recorded in
Italy in 1948. Here is a teenaged Louis Danto, just emerged from the ashes
of Poland, singing to an audience of Displaced Persons: fun a brenendike
oyvn kumt er lebedig aroys (from a burning oven the Jew comes out alive),
as a memorable phrase from the lyric so aptly put it. This song was written
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in the 1920s; but can it ever have had a more meaningful performance than
this one in 1948?
The Music Collection
Cantor Dantos Music Collection is an archive of printed music, manuscripts
and recordings that he collected and donated to Beth Emeth Bais Yehuda
Synagogue, 100 Elder Street, North York (Toronto), ON M3H 5G7, where it
is now housed.
During his 50-year career, Cantor Danto performed a vast range of material: classical arias and lieder in Russian, Italian, Hebrew, Yiddish and other
languages; Baroque music in Italian and Hebrew (yes, there is a wonderful
repertoire of Baroque-era Jewish music, and it is largely due to Cantor Danto
that we can hear it); Yiddish folk and modern Israeli music; and of course a
vast range of cantorial music. All these categories, and more, make up the
Danto Collection, which is not only the largest collection of its kind in Canada,
but one of the major collections to be found anywhere, drawing admiration
from the worlds leading scholars.
Cantor Dantos own life-story is the background to this collection: As a boy,
he went from Poland to study music in the Soviet Union. By the time he left
school, World War II was over and his family had been destroyed. He went to
Italy and would have gone on to Palestine had he not been befriended by the
Yiddish composer Dovid Botwinik, who was studying with Professor Mortari.
Through Mortari, Danto was introduced to Biniamino Gigli, who encouraged
him to continue his vocal studies. Danto became a student of Tito Schipa (and
indeed sang Handels Lascia chio pianga at Schipas funeral).
The Collection contains many treasures collected by Danto as his career
took him around the world. It was augmented by rare editions and manuscripts
acquired through Dantos friendship with leading singers and cantors, notably
Chaim Kotylansky and Rabbi Dov Aryeh Lebel, who taught many of todays
generation of cantors (as well as being Dantos father-in-law). To get a feel of
the Collection, consider what I found when I visited it recently. I pulled out
a box of hazzanut at random and this is what was inside:
This was just the first box I pulled out. There are shelves and shelves of
more boxes waiting to be catalogued
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In the Yiddish section, I found a box containing a neat pile of books arranged by size, a large anthology at the bottom, and a tiny paperback on top,
whose title reads: Noten tsu Yosef Magilnitzis Kovets shirei tsiyon vshirei am:
geshribn un aranzhirt fun berimten Musiker (Collection of folksongs, notated
and arranged by famous composers). The author is Rev Bezalel Vaysblum of
Philadelphia (no date, but from the appearance of the ads for corsets it must
be pre-World War 1). The volume includes music and words for patriotic
songs in English and Hebrew (Ashkenazi pronunciation), such as this:
Hagidu no ha-se-he-zu
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For a cantor or educator who wished to introduce Yiddish into their religious
school curriculum, the CD Lomir Zingen, performed by the Bialik Hebrew
Day School Students of Toronto, could be of great assistance in beginning
this process and in helping to motivate both instructors and pupils.
Here is a comprehensive 33 song, feel-good collection of traditional and
more modern Yiddish melodies, everything from joyous freylekhs and waltzes
to mournful songs of loss and yearning. It features vocals enhanced by guitar,
keyboard, tambourine, clarinet, string, electric bass and piano. While it may
not contain every melody ever written in Yiddish, it most certainly provides
an uplifting and empowering Jewish musical experience.
The CD evokes a joyous party mood, each piece capturing some facet of
the lives of East European Jewry. As the children singmostly in unison with
an added vocal solo here and therethey express the very soul of a people
from its darkest hours to its moments of ecstasy. Moreover, these day school
students introduce us to what they characterize as being their own personal
language from the first selection, Dos iz yiddish, siz mayn shprakh, mit a
veyn un mit a lakh, (This is Yiddish, it is my language, with crying and with
laughing), suggesting that Yiddish songs are a reflection of our lives. This
is particularly true of Jewish life in Canada, where Old World traditions like
the language of everyday speech lag at least a generation behind the United
States in the process of cultural assimilation.
Who would have imagined Mary Poppins singing Chim-Chiminey in
Yiddish? Yet, Zingt kinderlakh, zingt kinderlakh, zingt sheyn dos lied actually
captures the essence of Marys love for her young charges. And to simply have
fun with a class, one might try Miki mayzl, shtelt zikh kinder alle oys, lomir
shpiln kats un moys; miki mayzl, miki mayzl, ta-ra ra-ra miki mayzl, kum
arayn, un gey aroys. A loose translation would be: Mickey Mouse, lets play a
game of cat and mouse ta-ra ra-ra, Mickey Mouse, in and out the house.
One could effectively engage senior members of a synagogue with Shabbes
zol zayn (Let there be Shabbat, Yom Tov and peace all over the world). For
congregants who happen to be totally unfamiliar with Yiddish, the ya-ba baba, ya-ba ba-ba, bai bai bai bai refrain of this song will surely do the trick!
Anyone responsible for setting the religious schools music curriculum will
be interested in knowing that Lomir zingen includes many holiday songs as
well: Sukkot, Hanukkah, Tu BiShvat, Purim, and Pesah.
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The insert booklet covers all 33 songs, with Yiddish words for every selection appearing in Hebrew characters, most with brief English translations.
However, the booklet is incomplete in so far as the children sing many verses
for which no corresponding text is given in either Yiddish or English, nor any
transliteration for non-Yiddish speakers.
The engineering quality on this recording is adequate, considering that the
students were recorded in live class performance during May of 2007. The
instruments and vocals are distinct, with a good sound stage and depth of
tonal quality. Although it is evident that the performers on this CD are not
professionals, clearly the intent was to have all of the children attending this
Hebrew Day School deeply involved in mastery of, and appreciation for, the
Yiddish language.
Anita Eckhaus, vice-principal of the Bialik Hebrew Day School, who conceived the project and saw it through to completion, reminds us that, this
CD is a testament to the resilience of the Jewish culture and its ability to
evolve over time. The children of grades 3 to 8 who are heard singing from
the depths of their hearts on this recording are honoring their Yiddish teacher,
Anna Berman, who sang these songs with them during every lesson. Anita
Eckhaus, hearing these lovely sounds as she meandered through the halls
between classes, sought and found a way to capture and preserve them. For
Anna Berman, it was a dream come true, as she told the Canadian Jewish
News in an interview, a tremendously valuable resource for students as
well as anyone interested in experiencing or learning about Yiddish through
song.
This CD should appeal to all Jews, but especially to professionals who have
the responsibility of maintaining a connection with our complete musical
heritage and to preserve it for future generations.
Errol Helfman recently retired as hazzan of Temple Beth El, Birmingham, Alabama,
after a half-century in the cantorate. A native of Montreal, he studied with Tevele
Cohen, well-known cantor of the traditional Congregation Beth Itzchok in Chicago
(1932-1959), and at the Hebrew Union Colleges School of Sacred Music in New York. As
a long-time member of the Cantors Assembly he served as co-chair of its Southeastern
Region and on its Executive Council. Yiddish song, particularly in its role of helping
to establish and maintain community spirit, has held a lifelong fascination for him.
Lomir Zingen is available from the Bialik Hebrew Day School: [email protected] .
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British Jews are proud of the fact that most of the standard editions in English
of the great classics of our peoples literature: Humash, Tanakh, Mishnah,
Talmud, Zohar, Midrash, and of course the siddur were first published in
England, rather than by the much larger and wealthier Jewish community in
America. The standard siddur for Britain and the Commonwealth has since
1890 been the so-called Singers Prayer Book of the United Synagogue (the
main Anglo-Jewish association of Ashkenazi Orthodox synagogues). It got
its nickname from the clear and literate translation by the Reverend Simeon
Singer (1848-1906). It might have been equally fittingly called the Baer siddur, since for the Hebrew texts of this and all subsequent siddurim we should
acknowledge the great scholarship of Seligman Baer (1825-97).
After a long delay and much taking of opinions, the latest Singersor better
to say the first Sacks siddurappeared in 2006. That long delay has meant
quite a moderate penetration of the ArtScroll siddur in some synagogues
in Britain. For us the ArtScroll siddur has two immediate advantages over
the old Singers: its layout and typography are much superior. Those things
apart, the ArtScroll is not much liked among many regular daveners here.
Its Hebrew texts are defective (see below), its English is graceless, its rubrics
enjoin minhagim and practices not recognised by our community, and its
whole outlook is backward and blinkered.
The new siddur begins with a 22-page masterly introduction by Chief Rabbi
Sacks Understanding Jewish Prayer. He looks afresh at all the well-known
aspects of our worship: its sources, structure, study as prayer, mysticism,
history, sacrifice, kavvanah, and whether prayer is answered. (Did he mean
us to read this during services? it might prove more inspiring.)
The Sacks siddur covers all services throughout the year except those of
the High Holidays, and has all the weekday parshiyot. To achieve this the
siddur runs to nearly 1,000 pages, so with its small format the paper has to
be very thin. One wonders how durable the books will be. The Hebrew text
is in a strong, black, very sharply square font designed by Nadav Ezra. The
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inserts for special occasions, e.g. in the Amidah, indicated in the ArtScroll
by shading the text, are less clearly shown by Sacks: they are set in smaller
font and between lines. Time will tell if this works. An important innovation
is the marking, by elongation, of the short kamats, though there are some
mistakes both of inclusion and omission. (But no guidance is given as to the
pronunciation of the kamats before a hataf-kamats.) More importantly, there
are much-needed rubrics, stage-directions, guiding all the physical aspects of
worship: tsitsit, tephillin, three steps, feet together, bowing, Shma, Tahanun,
aliyot, lulav, Hoshanot, etc; though breast-beating in the Weekday amidah
is not called for. While these instructions in Traditional prayer books were
pioneered by the ArtScroll, It is our custom or According to our custom
occurs pointedly from time to time in the Sacks rubrics.
In marked contrast to the ArtScroll, our loyalty to Israel is emphasized
with the services for Yom haatsmaut and Yom Yerushalayim with, of course,
the regular prayer alongside that for the Queen and her government, for the
welfare of Medinat Yisrael and its defenders.
Some corrections to ArtScroll Hebrew: in the Kedushat Yotseir: bsafah
brurah uvinimah kedoshah, kulam etc; i.e. pure speech and sacred
melody as the utterance of the angels, is obviously right grammatically. So
also in the Hazkarah: tahat kanfei hashhinah must be right, since the metaphor is btseil knafekha, i.e., sheltered in the shadow of the divine wings;
the shadow must be beneath the wings. (The ArtScroll al kanfei seems to be
based on al kanfei nesharim (from Yitro): on eagles wings. But that was a
method of transport, not of protection. (The thought of spending all eternity
as air passengers is not appealing!)
A general point correcting ArtScroll is the supplying of the missing makeif
(hyphen) in locutions like brov-hasdekha, shmor-tam, miyordi-vor, al tizkorlanu, etc., to make the two words one. This is necessary for the recognition
of the short kamats and its pronunciation. ArtScroll is either unaware or
dismissive of this need, as it is also of the necessary hyphenation of kol (when
spelled with a kamats) to the following word, and for the same reason of pronunciation. (The one exception, correctly observed by Sacks, is in the phrase
kol atsmotai tomarna, quoted from Psalm 35, where the Masoretes made the
word stand on its own with a merkha, unhyphenated, and may therefore be
pronounced kal.)
On the other hand, Sacks and his committee have not been as bold as one
might have hoped. We are still praying in Rtsei for the acceptance of our nonexistent fire-offerings; whereas at least one edition of the ArtScroll siddurim
punctuates more appropriately: vhasheiv et haavodah lidvir beitekha vishei
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Yisrael, utfilatam, asking God to restore these offerings and meanwhile accept our prayer. Similarly, the misplaced bracket which for no reason prevents
us saying Eloheinu veilohei avoteinu on Yomtov when not Shabbat, is retained,
despite Rav Yakov Emden and others pointing it out as an early printers error.
In the Shabbat Shaharit Amidah, Chief Rabbi Hertzs siddurthough based
on the Singers had lo yishknu rshaim instead of lo yishknu areilim, but
this has not been adopted in Sacks. So the uncircumcised still cant have any
benefit from Shabbat. And the censored sentence she-heim mishtahavim
l-hevel va-rik (For they bow to vanity and emptiness...) in Aleinu remains
absent, whereas ArtScroll discreetly brackets it as optional.
There are throughout very helpful running comments or explanations to
various prayers. A minor complaint is that where these prayers occur repeatedly (the Shma, Aleinu, Kaddish, Adon Olam, etc), while we cant expect the
comments to be repeated on each occasion, there could be a cross-reference
to where they first occur. Not everyone comes to every service.
The first edition has several small typos or errors, notably the masculine
form where a memorial prayer is for a woman, and in the last refrain of Geshem
a singular in the translation for the Twelve Tribes. These may be corrected in
later impressions. However an interesting Orwellian omission is in the Preface,
where what purports to be the Preface to the first edition of 1890 is included
for historical interest. It states the Biblical passages were translated by an
accomplished scholar In the true 1890 preface he was named: Mr. Claude
G. Montefiore. But he later became an unperson because of his prominence in
the Liberal Jewish movement. This mean-spiritedness is not to be attributed
to Sacks himself but to one of his predecessors, as the suppression occurred
in previous Singers editions. (Was Sacks aware of it?)
Sackss translations (S. below) are not only literate but elegant, and especially when compared with the clumsy wordiness and obscurity of ArtScroll
(A. below). For example:
A. Our oxen are laden; there is neither defection nor outburst, nor wailing in
our streets
S. Our oxen will draw heavy loads. There will be no breach in the walls, no
going into captivity, no cries of distress in our streets
(Psalm 144)
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(Psalm 30)
A. For His anger endures for a moment; life results from His favour
S. For His anger is for a moment, but His favour for a lifetime
(Psalm 30)
A. Long has my soul dwelt with those who hate peace. I am peacebut when
I speak they are for war
S. I have lived too long among those who hate peace. I am for peace, but
whenever I speak of it, they are for war
(Psalm 120)
In these and many other examples, not only is the language more thoughtful
and graceful (and often also rhythmical) but the meaning is so much clearer.
ArtScroll is particularly unintelligible with medieval poetry, for example in
Geshem:
A. May He obligate [the Angel Af-Bri] to give us portions of the segregated
rain to soften the wastelands face when it is dry as rock
S. May He make him apportion due portions of rain,
Moistening the earth with drops pure as opal
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For readers of this Journal, I regret that there is no music included, nor
even a mention of the importance of music as the inseparable vehicle of our
prayer, and despite Sackss affirmation in the introduction that the Siddur is
the choral symphony the covenantal people has sung to God across forty centuries When the original Singers was published by the United Synagogue
in 1890, they at the same time published their large Blue book of choral and
congregational music (referred to in the 2008 issue of JSM, pages 205-6). The
Singers siddur and this musical compendium have gone along in tandem for
over a century. However the English Sephardi community have done better.
Their daily siddur has 117 pages of music as an addendum in the siddur itself.
Perhaps if the Ashkenazim had done likewise there might be less ignorance
of basic nusah and less scope for the unsuitable tunes that characterize much
Anglo-Jewish worship today. But that is a subject for another day.
Victor Tunkel, a London barrister and law lecturer, has had a lifetime involvement in
Jewish music as an amateur chorister, cantor, cantillator, collector and educator. His
elegant taste is evidenced by his pairing of the Halevi poem with the Duarte Sonatina
in JSM 2007 (Music of the First Jewish Woman Composer). His book, The Music
of the Hebrew Bible: The Western Ashkenazic Tradition, was reviewed in the
2006 Journal.
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248
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Tefillin shel Yad. Here Kaplan combines vocal sonority, sinuous line and
supportive accompaniment into a very moving rendition.
15. El Mistater: Kaplan chants this unaccompanied piyyut from the Husyatiner
Hasidim without the varied coloration and vocal agility that is so evident
on every other track on this recording.
16. Ashrey: This is a jazzy version of the deservedly popular responsive setting
for Psalm 145 by Pinchas Spiro. In the middle of itfrom Tov HaShem
la-kol through L-hodia livnei ha-adam(verses 9-12 ), Kaplan inserts a
Gregorian chant as sung by Joel Cohen and the Boston Camerata on their
recording, The Sacred Bridge: Jews and Christians in Medieval Europe. The
chant actually originates in Sephardic practice, as Eric Werner showed
so clearly in his book The Sacred Bridge (1955: 419f ).
17. Yemeni Shema: This melody is verifiably Yemenite, and Kaplan is once
again in his comfort zonecombining his beautiful voice with musical
sensibility to create an impressively novel rendition of a familiar text.
18. Grandfather Sang a Song: The prayer ha-maariv aravim from the Evening
serviceis first chanted in Mizrahi (Middle Eastern) style. That is followed
by the personal tale of how Kaplans family emigrated to America. The
chant then re-emerges in a jazz version interposed with Yiddish. This
story of the American Jewish Experience interweaves cultural elements
from all over the diaspora, and transforms them into something new and
unique.
Richard Kaplan is an artist well worth getting to know. His varied interests
and musical acumen make this recording a listening pleasure from beginning to end. Whether accompanied or a cappella, the music is served with a
conviction that allows for setting aside ones critical ear in order to make the
journey with Kaplan. Moreover, his innovative melding of piyyut texts with
disparate musical traditions points a plausible way toward the re-invigoration
of Jewish music generally and Jewish worship in particular.
Ira S. Bigeleisen has been cantor at Adat Ari El congregation in Valley Village, CA,
since 1993. A graduate of the Belz School of Jewish Music of Yeshiva University,
he has appeared as a guest hazzan and concert artist all over the United States,
Europe and Israel. Considered an authority on the nusah of prewar Germany, he
led services at the re-opening of the Rykestrasse Synagogue in Berlin. Adat Ari El
has won top awards for worship programming under his leadership, including
One Shabbat Morning, the innovative Saturday morning service. He is currently
composing music for children aged four-and-up to sing in the traditional service.
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Readers of this journal surely know what to expect in a volume of congregational melodies compiled and edited by the indefatigable and diligent Jeffrey
Shiovitz. Volume III of Zamru LoThe Next Generation continues the high
standards and comprehensive scope Shiovitz established for Volume I (published in 2004, and devoted to Shabbat melodies), which was reviewed by
Robert Scherr.1 In fact, many if not all of Scherrs basic observations on the
editorial, liturgical, musical and textual qualities of Volume I are also applicable
to Volume III, and I refer the reader to that review for those observations.
Not reviewed in these pages, however, was Volume II, Shiovitzs 2006
compilation of melodies for the High Holidays. The present review of Volume
III will therefore also glance at Volume II while taking the measure of the
entire three-volume Next Generation anthologyparticularly as it relates
to its predecessor, the three-book Zamru Lo collection compiled and edited
by Moshe Nathanson. These books were originally published by the Cantors Assembly in 1955 (Congregational Melodies and Zemirot for the Friday
Evening Service), 1960 (Congregational Melodies and Zemirot for the Entire
Sabbath Day) and 1974 (Congregational Melodies for the Shalosh Rgalim
and the High Holidays). When necessary, the six Zamru Lo volumes will be
referenced here individually by their respective editors surnames and year
of publication.
In his preface to the Sabbath collection (Shiovitz 2004) the editor only
foresaw a single second volume which will contain congregational melodies
for the Yamim Noraim and Shalosh Regalim. This was a reasonable prediction considering that his Volume I covered ground (Friday night and Shabbat
day) similar to the earlier Volumes I and II (Nathanson 1955; 1960), and one
additional book would logically correspond to Volume III (Nathanson 1974).
It is a tribute to the dedication to his mission that Shiovitz did not keep to that
plan, but when faced with the wealth of available material he instead created
two more handsome Next Generation volumes that round out a magnificent
library of traditional and modern synagogue melodies.
1
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That Shiovitz completed this project in only five years (compared to the
nineteen-year publication spread of Nathansons Zamru Lo) earns him an
extra Yasher Koah. The shorter production time may have been a factor in
why the new Zamru Lo is a somewhat more cohesive anthology than the
older one. For example, the original first two volumes (Nathanson 1955; 1960)
were transliterated according to Ashkenazic pronunciation while the third
(Nathanson 1974) transitioned to the modern Israeli pronunciation. All of
Shiovitzs volumes use the same modern transliteration system. The earlier
project had sixty-two Hallel selections divided equally over two separate
books (Nathanson 1960; 1974), but in The Next Generation all of the Hallel
pieces can be found between the same two covers (Shiovitz 2009), and their
total number has increased almost threefold.
The fact that the Hallel service constitutes substantially more than half of
Shiovitzs Volume III explains why it gets top billing in his title, while Hallel
does not appear in any of Nathansons titles.2 Whether this new quantitative
emphasis on Hallel represents a new reality in current synagogue practice or
simply reflects a greater abundance of published music available to the editor
is an open question that is also applicable to other liturgical areas that Shiovitz
has expanded, like the sixty-two item Weekdays section.3 But even more significant than the comparative numbers is the fact that twenty-five of Nathansons
original sixty-two Hallel settings are also included in Shiovitzs one hundred
and seventy-fourwhich hints at the many decisions that Shiovitz had to make
in compiling a Zamru Lo for the the 21st Century.
This ratio of the old incorporated within the new nicely illustrates how the
two Zamru Lo anthologies complement each other, and similar examples of the
interdependency between the two Zamru Lo generations abound throughout the
collections. For the newest synagogue melodies its The Next Generation; for
2
Regarding this newfound congregational status of Hallel one can ironically
albeit hyperbolicallyapply a verse from Hallel itself: Even maasu habonim haytah
lrosh pinah (Psalm 118:22, the stone that the builders cast aside has become the
cornerstone).
3
This portion of the book consists of an entirely new Shaharit section plus a
virtually new Maariv sectioni.e. fifteen new settings as opposed to the earlier five
snippets of Maariv inserted between the Zmirot for Sudah Shlishit and Motzaei
Shabbat (Nathanson 1960). Shiovitzs Weekdays selections are based largely on the
works of Max Wohlberg, Samuel Rosenbaum, Pinchas Spiro, and Jack Chomsky. It is
noteworthy that Wohlbergs contributions to this Next Generation section come from
his Shahar Avakeshkha, a forward-looking collection of melodies that was published
in 1974the same year as Nathansons third previous generation Zamru Lo.
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traditional chestnuts and even some of the old masters its The Next Generation
and/or Nathansons Zamru Lo. The older Zamru Lo settings included by Shiovitz
have not merely been reprinted, however. They have also benefited from two
important features of the new collection: completely notated texts for passages
that contain repeated melodies (more so in Volume III than in the Shabbat and
High Holidays volumes), and full chord symbols for every measure (and often
every beat) of music. These chords are not the perfunctory basics, but rather
interesting musical enhancements that make the pieces inviting and enjoyable
whether or not one uses accompaniment in performance.4
Comparing the two collections for the fate of individual texts can be illuminating. For example, the famous Selihot passage beginning with the words
hanshamah lakh (Yours is the soul) was classically a favorite spot for hazzanic improvisation rather than congregational singing; it is thus plausibly
missing from the first Zamru Lo High Holidays section (Nathanson 1974).
After Shlomo Carlebach, the progenitor of Neo-Hasidic music, released
his first record album with Hanshamah lakh as the title song, the melodic
preferences for this text gradually changed from cantorial to congregational.5
This is duly reflected in four congregational melodiesincluding Carlebachs
presented in The Next Generation (Shiovitz 2006, 710).6
A similar, if more subtle, trend can be discerned in the concluding verses
of Min Hameitzar (Psalm 118) in the Hallel service (Shiovitz 2009, 94-126).
While the end of this psalm has long standing as a passage sung chorally or
congregationally, such treatment would logically begin at odkha ki anitani, the
first of the set of four repeated final verses. Indeed, of the eleven melodies for
4
One assumes that it is Jeffrey Shiovitz who provided the careful chording,
though it is not explicitly mentioned. This reticence typifies the lower profile that
Shiovitz maintains throughout the pages of The Next Generation series. Whereas
Moshe Nathansons name appears all over his Zamru Lo books as arranger and/or
assumed composer of many passages (especially those labeled traditional), the name
Shiovitz does not appear at all beyond the preface. Unfortunately, in this volume the
reluctance to acknowledge sources of arrangements often affects pieces whose arrangers are known, including those documented by Nathanson.
5
For a full discussion of the development of Neo-Hasidic music in the synagogue see Sam Weiss, Carlebach, Neo-Hasidic Music, and Current Liturgical Practice,
Journal of Synagogue Music, Fall 2009, vol. 34, 55-75.
6
The fact that the Carlebach version is first of the four is strictly due to alphabetical
order. Shiovitz continues Nathansons model of organizing all melodies for a given title
in alphabetical order by composers surname (including the name Traditional, which
comes before Unknown). This proves useful when searching for a particular version
among the twenty or thirty settings of some of the more popular titles in this book.
253
the end of this Psalm in the first Zamru Lo (Nathanson 1960; 1974), ten begin
at odkha ki anitani and only one (by Jacob Beimel) begins at the preceding
verse, pithu li shaarei tzedek. Beimels version is also included in The Next
Generation (Shiovitz 2009, 96), along with three others that begin at pithu li
and twenty-one more that begin at odkha ki anitani. But this slight difference
in the ratio of one starting point over the other is not nearly as striking a change
as the twelve additional settings of the verse pithu li shaarei tzedek by itself,
i.e., without continuing into odkha ki anitani. This liturgical development, too,
is part of Shlomo Carlebachs legacy: Pithu li shaarei tzedek was the opening song on his iconic album At the Village Gate, which featured this verse in
Hebrew letters on its cover.7
Along with the expanded liturgical sections there are abridged ones as well.
Totally absent from The Next Generation are any Haggadah melodies (save for
the incidental Hallel psalms, of course), which is in marked contrast to the earlier
full inventory of tunes for the Passover Seder (Nathanson 1974). This sound
editorial decision reflects the fact that compared to thirty-five years ago, only a
minority of hazzanim conduct Seders for their congregants, so the main locus of
this repertoire has shifted from the synagogue to the Hebrew School. Similarly
gone are the former Zmirot sections (Nathanson 1955; 1960). In this case the
missing items have not really disappeared; they are actually flourishing in their
new home, the popular BKol Ehad booklets also edited by Jeffrey Shiovitz.
Although they are mainly books of congregational melodies, both Zamru
Lo series contain a fair amount of material that is not meant for congregations
to sing, such as various versions of the Kaddish and other nusah passages that
may contain only brief congregational responses, or pieces which unrealistically assume that the congregation will imitate a hazzanic phrase by the cantor.8
In Volumes II and III of The Next Generation, however, there is yet a greater
amount of solo music. Examples include pieces that are clearly choral rather than
7
This cover design was, of course, a bold play on the words shaarei tzedek
(gates of righteousness) and Village Gate, the name of the nightclub where Carlebachs 1963 live performance was recorded.
8
E.g. the Min hameitzar verses in the Shofar ceremony (Nathanson 1974;
Shiovitz 2006), or the complete piyyut for Tfillat geshem (Nathanson 1974; Shiovitz
2009).
254
255
famous incipit Yom LYabashah as the title but rather a phrase that is identical
to a nearby daily liturgical passage, this Passover gem may very well remain
unnoticed by those seeking a setting for Yom LYabashah.
Since not all users of The Next Generation collection will have an equally
solid grounding in Hebrew pronunciation (a consideration which may not have
been as relevant in Moshe Nathansons days), the key to transliterations page
at the beginning of the book is a welcome touch. Unfortunately, however, two
of the nine keys on this page (which is identical in all three volumes) are problematic. It is a common editorial time-saver in transliterating Hebrew lyrics to
coalesce the sounds of kamatz katan and holam into the single symbol o. But
to compound this shortcoming by giving only the holam pronunciation (o as in
oh) for these two distinct Hebrew vowel sounds is simply incorrect.
The second problem is not as serious, but is still worth noting. The shva na
is quite properly transliterated throughout the Zamru Lo series as an apostrophe
(though not in this books title word Regalim). Shiovitz gives the key to this
apostrophe as follows: shva [when pronounced]: i as in easily. Since the only
type of shva that is represented in lyrics using the English alphabet is the one
that is pronounced, to say when pronounced in this context is unnecessarily
confusing. More importantly, the pronunciation keyword given for this vowel (i
as in easily) is an infelicitous choice. While it is true that most native English
speakers will pronounce the middle vowel in easily as a neutral schwa sound,14
it is also a fact that too many English speakers confuse the sound of the Hebrew
shva with that of the hirik (e.g. Mi Yimaleil, liolam, etc.) so a keyword like
easily will only reinforce that tendency.15 A much less ambiguous keyword
like a as in above or e as in given would have been preferable.
Such minor critical observations aside, Jeffrey Shiovitz has done a yeomans
job in assembling and editing the three grand volumes of Zamru LoThe Next
Generation. Appreciative hazzanim and Jewish music lovers worldwide will
thank him for generations to come.
Sam Weiss, hazzan at the Jewish Community Center of Paramus, NJ, is a recitalist,
lecturer and Jewish Music consultant in the fields of liturgical, Yiddish and Hasidic
song. A frequent contributor to the Journal of Synagogue Music, his article, Carlebach,
Neo-Hasidic Music and Liturgical Practice, appeared in the Fall 2009 issue.
14 Furthermore, some British and most non-native speakers will pronounce that
vowel closer to a weak i rather than a schwa.
15 The editor himself seems to have fallen into this trap, spelling and titling
Mkimi meiafar dal correctly as Mkimi, but also incorrectly as Mikimi (Shiovitz 2009,
5, 6, 8, 10).
256
257
[JAL]
Di zelbe gasn
Tango Rhythm
REFRAIN:
Baritone
Piano
Zi
darf
es a - zoy zayn,
258
zi
muz
es a - zoy
2
4
zayn
vert,
12
az far ey - nem
15
zoy
rit.
Er
hot
a tempo
zayn,
es
fregt
tsi
muz
parlando
un fregt
a - zoy
a tempo
iz zikh ba - shert
a tempo
velt,
dos
harts
zayn?
rit.
a - zoy
zol zayn di
mayn
259
iz alts far -
tsi darf a -
An irreplaceable bridge between the golden age of yesterday and today, Barry
Serota had made aliyah and settled in Modiin in the spring of 2009. He died
suddenlyon his way back to Israel six months laterafter a brief visit to
his former home in Chicago.
Barry was a walking encyclopedia of hazzanut, a friend of hazzanim,
whom he never hesitated to help either in his professional capacity as an
attorney or in any other way. His passion was to singlehandedly produce an
entire library of re-mastered old recordingsthrough his foundation, Musique Internationaleand to make them available for fellow lovers of hazzanut
everywhere. He was also an entertaining and informative speaker who filled
hundreds of requests over the years for lectures that included recordings and
videos from his vast collection.
260
One of Barrys favorite anecdotes concerned Cantor Pierre Pinchiks ingenious solution for a tessitura problem. Halfway through Pinchiks setting
of Rozo dshabbos (The Mystery of Sabbath), a mystical introit to the Arvit
service proper on Friday night, the music moves up a fourth and remains
centered there until the end. That particular vocal tessitura felt uncomfortably high for Pinchik on the day he recorded the prayer (Let all evil powers
flee before the Sabbath).
Since he was accompanying himself at the organ, he solved the problem
by playing the second half a semi-tone lower, in E minor instead of F minor.
The change went unnoticed because it occurred just after listeners had
turned the 12 78 RPM platter over on their phonograph turntable. Those
few among Pinchiks adoring public who did notice, simply thought it was
part of the original composition, yet another indication of their idols quirky
musical genius.
Inspection of that part of the published score proves otherwise. It shows
no key change, and confirms Barry Serotas expediential reason for the pitch
suddenly on the recording. The artist simply didnt feel up to it, and since he
was the accompanist as well (as Pinchos Siegelhis given nameyoung
Pinchik had supported his musical studies by playing piano gigs in clubs), he
improvised an unobtrusive way out of the situation.
Along with the Journal staff s deepest sympathy to his widow Yvonne and
the childrenperhaps the finest Envoi we can offer Barry are his own words,
which appear in the MAILBOX section of this issue, and reveal the acuity of
his perception when it came to matters hazzanic.
261
[JAL]
...Rozo dshabbos
Ending, first side of record: F minor...
6
yach - das ve - is par - shas mi - sit - ro acha - ro,
i - hi sha- bos.
262
Kad
i - hi is -
In the 19th century there were only two great violin soloistsWiniawsky and
Joachimand none from Russia. In the 20th century most great violin soloists
were Russian, and most of them were Jews.
Why? Social reasons. Because of Russian restrictions, the only way a Jew
could get to Moscow or St. Petersburg was with special permission. Since
higher education was a closed door for Jews, the natural detour was via
the arts, whose patronsthrough their connectionscould bring talented
young Jewish violinists (easier to carry around that a piano) into the big city
conservatories, salons and halls.
Israel in the 1950s was like America at the turn of the last [19th] century,
so the European tradition of violin playing as a key to social climbing still
prevailed. Hence: Izkhak Pearlman, PInchas Zukerman and Gil Shajam. And
263
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This collection of original settings by Cantor Meir Finkelstein contains many of the
prayers sung on Erev Shabbat, with piano accompaniment. Pieces include: Shabbat
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Love, Hashkiveinu, Mi Chamocha, Vshamru, Shalom Rav, Vaychulu, Magein Avot,
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266
For over four decades A-R has published critical editions for performers and
scholars.
Our Recent Researches series encompasses music from the middle ages
through the early twentieth century, especially the Renaissance and Baroque
eras, and including oral traditions.
Chant, motets, masses, madrigals, lute music, trio sonatas, and other genres are
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Performance parts are available for many editionsplease inquire.
267
SIDOR BELARSKY
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268
Tr a i n i n g t h e N e xt G e n e r a t i o n : A H y p h e n a t e d
Cantorate?
The Journal no longer charges for subscriptionsbecause its raison
dtre has always been to elevate Jewish music standards and to aid
cantors and interested lay leaders in this endeavor. By eliminating cost
as a factor, the Cantors Assembly hopes to put this scholarly publication
into more hands individually, and collectively via institutional
libraries.
Current and past issues are now accessible online, through a Journal of
Synagogue Music link on the Cantors Assembly website ( www.cantors.
org ) or as hard copies (only 2005 through the current year) @ $10 each
plus postageVISA, AMEX, DISCOVER, MASTER cards acceptedby
contacting the Cantors Assembly ( [email protected] ).
269